#expecting one to bloom this late in the year. poor thing is frozen. but anyway. yaaayy

[zivazivc]

Say hello to my bug eyed baby boy 🐛👀👶

He was in an egg since September but about a week ago he finally hatched! 😊😅 jk jk but it did take me this long to finish this plushie of baby Leslie that I can hold close and snuggle. 🥰🧡

In the last few days I took him out with me so he could explore the woods for the first time, and so I could take some photos of him for you guys (and me lol).

No I could not trim this photo set even more, do you have any idea how many photos I took?? and he's precious in all of them. 🥺

I don't have a sewing machine or any other special equipment so he's entirely handmade with a pattern I made myself by trial and error, but I did use two of my plush toys as reference to study how they're stitched together.

I was pretty limited with my material choice because I had to find everything in Leslie's colors or at least the closest I could get to his colors, and I've realized that they're not very popular colors. His hair sadly ended up being the most off, but I'm still happy with it.

His body is something like sweatshirt fleece but the fabric being turned the wrong way so that the soft fuzzy side is on the outside. But I had no luck trying to find sherpa fleece fabric that would fit his coat colors so his fur is all embroidered using a stitch called turkey work.

And his lil pickle dreads are made with the same technique as friendship bracelets, just that they loop around. I've made so many friendship bracelets in my time that this wasn't hard to figure out how to do lol. And in the end I also sewed shiny pearls onto them to act as sparkles, since I'm not a fan of glitter or sequins. 😅

And lastly his hair is made out of genuine hand dyed sheep locks! Wondering how to tackle the hair gave me the most trouble. I was thinking of sewing it together out of fabric, or tying together fluffy yarn in the style of macramé and other ideas I can't recall anymore, but either the idea didn't sound good enough or I wasn't able to find the right material to try to pull it off. In the end I stumbled on sheep locks kind of on accident while browsing etsy and the idea was just too tempting. They're the only part of him that I ordered online and I was really worried it wasn't going to be what I needed, or that I won't like the color once I see it irl, won't like the feel, etc. But I'm super happy with how it came out in the end. Yes it's much lighter in color and now he's curly, but I think it really suits him, and it feels soft like actual hair. 🥰

Some details from up close:

[xxlovendreamsxx]

Title: patience (or lack thereof) Summary: Exasperated by the slow process of Sasuke and Sakura getting together, Kakashi and Naruto discuss their relationship. Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto. Prompt: An Outsider’s Point of View Rating: K A/N: I tried to get this out for ssmonth but couldn’t manage to before a very important visit arrived! Oh well, at least I still whipped this out ahhaa. I think many of you will love this one :)

“Those two are impossible.”

Never looking up from his forever-favored little orange novel, Kakashi merely hummed in reply, distractedly stirring his chopsticks into his miso soup’s steaming broth. “Give them time, Naruto,” he drawled. “It’s only been six months since he came back from his journey.”

But his former student didn’t seem to feel the same, throwing his arms up expressively. “Exactly, Kaka-sensei—it’s been six months!” he exclaimed. Naruto leaned his head back against the frame of the chair, groaning hopelessly. “What the hell is Sasuke doing?”

At this, Kakashi glanced at him, lips tugging lightly under his mask. Naruto only proceeded to lean forward again and shove a handful of noodles into his mouth, features annoyed. It was just like him to get frustrated that things weren’t moving along fast enough between his two best friends.

“Sasuke is healing and trying to put his life back in order,” Kakashi calmly settled to explain, returning to his beloved book. He absentmindedly poked at a piece of grilled eggplant. “He’s spent years away from us on a path that he knows now did neither him nor anyone else any good, and now he’s trying to come to terms with all that.”

A snort of pure disbelief sounded beside him. “Oh come on, he’s had two years to work through that—and you know he’s been doing great lately!”

That was true enough. Still, Kakashi simply shrugged in response. “Maybe not well enough to his standards.”

Naruto groaned again. “But his standards are ridiculous, Kaka-sensei,” he lamented. “If Sakura waits on him to get up to his own standards, she’ll be waiting forever!”

True again, Kakashi mused. Reaching to flip to the next page of his book, he simply said, “Probably.”

Out of the corner of his visible eye, he watched as Naruto scowled at him. “Stop acting like you’re fine with that!” the blond snapped, hand flying out to snatch the erotic novel from him.

Fortunately, Kakashi managed to safely pocket it in time. A sigh fell from his mouth. “I’m not,” he eventually replied, propping an arm to the table and his head onto his palm. “I called them in the office last month just to have them in the same room together, didn’t I?”

Naruto rolled his eyes. “Some good work you did…” he muttered, turning to his meal again.

Kakashi wasn’t fazed by his sarcasm. “It was,” he said. “Sasuke walked her home after that.”

Snorting, Naruto waved him away. “Whatever. It’s not like he’s never done that before, anyway!”

“True,” Kakashi replied, lone eye crinkling. A real smile finally tipped to his lips, barely visible under his mask. “But they’ve been walking a whole lot together since then, haven’t they?”

With a sense of satisfaction, he watched as his former student reluctantly crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned. “…I guess.”

Kakashi smiled wider. “Progress,” he declared, all too pleased with himself.

Naruto rolled his eyes once more, shoving another handful of noodles into his mouth. “Slow progress, you mean,” he grumbled, still chewing as he spoke. “Way too slow.”

Kakashi shrugged. “Progress anyway.”

Swallowing, Naruto gestured Teuchi for an additional order, before taking another full bite, brows still furrowed. “How long do you think it’ll take before they end up together, anyway?” he asked, nodding in thanks as his favorite restaurant owner handed him a brand new steaming bowl.

Patient, Kakashi waited until Naruto had wolfed down the rest of his ramen and begun on his new portion, before casually proclaiming, “They’ll be married by next year, most likely.”

Naruto promptly choked, sputtering on himself and hacking wet coughs. The sight almost sent Kakashi laughing.

“What!” he rasped, still coughing, blue eyes widened impossibly. “You—You’re insane! Why would you ever say that? At this rate, Sasuke will only have held her hand by next year!”

Amused, Kakashi shook his head, and took out his beloved piece of literature again, resuming his reading. “Tsk. You’re too focused on the present, Naruto,” he said, sounding positively confident despite his composure. “The two of them have always had an intensity to their bond—they just need a little push to get going, that’s all. Once they do, I’m sure things will unravel rather quickly between them.”

“No way!” Naruto replied, scowling again. “As if the bastard would know what to do!”

Flipping to the next page, and gaze never straying from his novel, Kakashi merely said, “Bet you a hundred ryos.”

There was a pause, then; slight, weighted, and transparently stunned—but completely expected, if Kakashi was honest with himself. When the moment was over, he could practically feel Naruto’s eyes narrowing at him.

“You’re sick, you know that right?” the blond said, clearly unhappy with him. “I am not making deals on my two best friend’s relationship, Kaka-sensei! What kind of guy do you think I am?”

Smiling, Kakashi turned to him, visible eye crinkling. “Two hundred ryos?”

Naruto practically reddened with anger. “No!”

“Oh—one thousand, then.”

It was almost comical how quickly Naruto stiffened at this, scandalized features receding to something more complicated. He was clearly fighting with himself.

Then: “…Alright, alright, fine,” he said, reaching out to present a hand in finalization of a bargain. Naruto’s eyes hardened with determination. “One thousand ryos says it takes them at least two years if they keep going at this rate.”

Kakashi shook his hand without hesitation, smiling wider. “Deal.”

.

.

Two weeks later, as they sat at Kakashi’s favorite restaurant on a pleasantly calm evening, Sasuke and Sakura revealed their intentions to travel.

Completely taken off guard, Naruto and Kakashi both took a moment to pause and stare at them, limbs frozen in the act of eating. After a short while, they turned to look at each other, blinking with surprise.

“For how long?” Kakashi asked, trying not to sound as curious as he felt. Had he and Naruto underestimated how close the two were already? Maybe Sasuke and Sakura spent more time together than they thought.

Naruto, alternatively, remained silent at this, seemingly speechless at the news.

“I’m not sure,” Sakura replied, cheeks reddening faintly as she glanced at the man at her side. This alone was almost enough to confirm his thought. “Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke merely shrugged. “Don’t know. We’ll decide as we go,” he said, sparing Sakura a seemingly soft look.

Kakashi watched as her features brightened in return, blush blooming deeper across her cheeks, making her look particularly happy. He knew then that he was right: the two of them were much closer than he and Naruto previously suspected. His chest warmed contently, pushing him to throw a knowing stare Naruto’s way—one which the latter only responded with a brief glare.

This doesn’t mean anything, he knew Naruto would say to him, were the other two not here. Sasuke is still obviously moving at a snail’s pace, so you’re still wrong in your bet!

Fortunately for them, neither Sasuke or Sakura seemed to notice their muted exchange, perhaps too caught up in their own line of thoughts judging by the pensive look on Sasuke’s face and the sweet, bashful smile to Sakura’s mouth. Kakashi felt oddly pleased at this.

(they were both transparently excited, in their own ways.)

“And when are you two leaving?” he inquired to them both, reaching to nonchalantly flip over some still-grilling meat, feigning mild indifference to it all.

(after all, if sasuke somehow came to know how big of a deal this really was, there was a chance he could pull back from it all, crushing sakura’s heart once more.)

Naruto still didn’t know what to say.

Blinking out of her girlish daze, Sakura merely smiled wider and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hm. Three weeks, maybe?” she said, putting a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “I have to make sure my responsibilities at the hospital are all delegated properly. I don’t want to cause trouble…”

A noise of disbelief fell from Naruto’s mouth. Kakashi beamed beneath his mask in the hopes they would brush him off.

“That’s wonderful,” he said. “I hope you two will have some most interesting travels.”

As you explore each other, his impish mind added. Kakashi merely beamed brighter.

Glancing shyly at Sasuke, Sakura merely blushed once more and said, “Yes, me too.”

There was no mistaking the contentment painted across Sasuke’s features when he looked at her, too.

And when the waitress arrived to see how their meals were doing in the moment that followed, Kakashi took the opportunity to silently lean Naruto’s way, murmuring, “I’d like to change my bet. I say they’re going to have a child by this time next year.”

It was hard to hide his smile as Naruto made a strange sound in reply, face contorting with absolute mortification, flushing into a deep shade of red.

“Naruto?” Sakura questioned, apparently immediately taking notice of his state. “Are you okay? You look like you have a fever. Maybe you should—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” her flustered teammate replied, voice a bit strangled. He threw a furious glare Kakashi’s way. “Just, uh, choked on my water, that’s all.”

A poor excuse, Kakashi reflected, forcing himself to cough in an effort to hide the light chuckle that escaped him.

Judging by the manner in which Sasuke’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at them, he evidently thought so, too.

.

.

Surely enough, three weeks later, Kakashi and Naruto found themselves standing at Konoha’s worn gates, arms crossed over their chests and warm smiles to their lips, watching the quietly enamored pair trekking away from the village they called home.

(side by side, brushing arms, gazes locked softly as they began an adventure of their own; a journey of trust, and peace, and love.)

It was only as they were nearly faded out of distance that they noticed Sasuke’s lone hand reaching out for Sakura, seemingly grabbing for her own.

Kakashi cleared his throat to keep from laughing; he’d never seen Naruto’s eyes widen so much.

“One thousand ryos, hm?” Kakashi mused aloud, positively pleased. He stroked his chin lazily through his mask, and threw Naruto a teasing glance. “I think that will be just enough to buy the newest special edition of Icha Icha.”

Glowering at him, Naruto’s face reddened, before he scowled. “Don’t get cocky, old man,” he warned, pointing a finger at him indignantly. “Just because he held her hand, it doesn’t mean they’re going to get married and have a child by next year!”

Swirling on his feet, he began to stomp away angrily, completely flustered. “It took him eight months to hold her hand alone!” he exclaimed, arms flailing around expressively. “EIGHT MONTHS, KAKA-SENSEI!”

Kakashi simply shrugged. “And by next week he’ll have kissed her already,” he said, unhurriedly following after him.

He couldn’t help the light laugh that left him as Naruto shouted a furious denial in response.

.

.

It took a year and a half of waiting before Kakashi and Naruto finally received a letter informing them of their teammates’ impending return. Minds buzzing, the two of them impatiently made their way to Konoha’s gates with pounding hearts, overtly eager to see their friends again—and to find out what kind of progress was made during their lengthy travels.

Fortunately for them, barely an hour passed before Sasuke and Sakura finally came to view far into the distance, spurning Naruto to jump into place, flailing about frantically as he yelled both their names. Kakashi wasn’t surprised when only Sakura responded to his call, waving a hand back happily, shouting back at them.

“Hey, Kaka-sensei,” Naruto said, then, tone dripping with smugness, urging Kakashi’s head to turn in the direction of his former student. He’d never seen him look so cocky. “I don’t see a baby,” Naruto went on, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.

Shrugging, Kakashi merely relented and sighed, moving to dig into his pocket for his money pouch. Oh well, he mused, flipping through his bills to amass the amount of ryos he now owed the man beside him. He gave them up without fuss. Maybe I overestimated Sasuke a little too much.

But, he found, it wasn’t really much of a loss when the two slow-burning lovers finally neared enough to allow him to discern the transparent changes to their features. There was no more bashfulness now; no more hidden insecurities. Only glowing contentment, boundless trust and an unspoken intimacy—indicative of a bond now so strong Kakashi was sure could only have been strengthened in marriage.

At least I was right about that much, he thought, smiling as Sakura trotted forward to give them both hugs, giggling most excitedly.

“Oh, I missed you two so much!” she gushed as she pulled away from them, the smile to her lips blindingly happy. She reached to ruffle her blond teammate’s hair. “Did you grow a few inches, Naruto? I swear you look taller!”

Grinning proudly, Naruto seemed to blush a little, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck. He merely felt sheepish, Kakashi knew, the crush he harbored for Sakura already long gone with the years. These days, it was clear that all Naruto wanted was to see her with Sasuke, happy and in love—the both of them.

(a wish already fulfilled, really, but he wouldn’t know that just yet.)

And then, a faint whining noise snatched all of their attentions, sending Naruto and Kakashi jerking in surprise towards Sasuke’s form, eyes unbearably wide.

“Oh,” Sakura started, before either of them could properly take in this new situation, “she must be hungry—this sounds about the right time for her next feeding.” Smile softening with such immense fondness, she made her way towards Sasuke, who was already pushing his cloak aside with the stump of his arm. “Here, let me take her, anata.”

With lightly gaping mouths and astonished minds, Kakashi and Naruto both watched as Sasuke gently transferred the barely-month old child cradled snuggly in his single arm into the arms of his (now indisputable) wife, mismatched eyes warm as ever. It was several moments before Kakashi seemed to be able to catch his thoughts again, a flurry of exhilarating feelings bubbling intensely at his heart.

He was right!

Fighting against the urge to grin, he lowered his head to sing cheerily to the still-gaping man at his side, “One thousand ryos...”

Snapping out of his stunned gaze, Naruto glared at him fiercely before quickly shoving him his money back and tossing out his frog wallet as well, feet stalking towards his two best friends. “You guys got married?” he screeched, voice shrill with a strange mix of happiness, anger, and disbelief. “Scratch that, you had a baby?” Waving his arms around expressively, Naruto went on, “A year and a half ago, you weren’t even dating! What happened!”

Amused, Kakashi watched as Sasuke simply scowled in response and moved to seemingly try and shelter his wife and baby from Naruto’s cries. His glare was sharp as he said, “Tone it down, you idiot! You’re scaring my daughter.”

For once heeding to his warning, Naruto then somehow managed to skirt and duck around Sasuke’s form, eager to peer down at his best friends’ baby girl. “Oh gods, Sakura-chan, she’s so beautiful! Can I hold her?” he cooed, wrapping a proud arm around Sasuke’s shoulders. He ignored how the latter grunted and tried to pull away in vain, clearly annoyed.

(it was clear that he appreciated the gesture, to some degree—kakashi knew just as well as naruto that had he really wanted to, sasuke could have easily slipped out of the hold.)

“Not right now, Naruto,” Sakura replied, smiling proudly at the child in her arms. “I need to feed her.”

She shooed him away, afterwards, laughing lightly as Naruto pouted, but listened anyway. Then, she turned to present her back to them, and seemed to fiddle with her shirt, her smile taking a particularly glowing shade as her husband offered her his cloak for additional privacy.

“I can’t believe this,” Naruto said, as Sasuke turned to face them once again. “What happened over there, Sasuke-bastard?” he demanded. “You need to tell me everything!”

“I don’t need to tell you anything, blockhead!” Sasuke snapped, throwing him a dirty look.

It was Naruto’s turn to scowl at that. “Shut up, asshole! I’m your best friend and you didn’t even have the decency to invite me to your secret wedding? If anyone had the right to be there, it’s me!”

Watching them bicker from his place a few spaces back, Kakashi smiled, feeling accomplished at last. Sighing contently, he pocketed his well-earned money and started walking towards them, eyes crinkling. “Now, now,” he said, “both of you settle down—you’re going to upset the little one if you keep shouting like that…”

.

.

Nothing had ever been so worth the wait.

(...and money.)

[hawthornewhisperer]

On promises made and kept

For @bgonemydear, who wanted reunited childhood sweethearts in a historical au. The train hadn’t finished slowing down when Bellamy hopped off.  It had been years since he had been back to Arkadia— six, as a matter of fact— and already he could tell things were different.  There was a train station, for one.  No more walking to Polis and catching the train there.  There was a bank now too, and soon enough there would be a law firm, too.  

Bellamy left the station and turned down the main thoroughfare.  His mother and Octavia wouldn’t be expecting him until tomorrow, but he had decided last night he couldn’t wait.  He’d taken an earlier train and would come back for his things with the wagon tomorrow.

Murphy saw him first.  He waved from the porch of the general store and went back to sweeping, a very different man from when Bellamy had left.  He was married now, Octavia said, and far more settled.  The town had changed and the people had too, which he supposed was the general order of things.  He wasn’t the same boy who left.  The Bellamy Blake who had left Arkadia had been a boy from a poor claim who only owned the shirt on his back and two tattered books and now he was a lawyer with an expensive suit and a position at Charles Pike’s firm, coins jangling in his pockets as he walked.  

He had paid off the mortgage the first chance he got, and now his mother rented the land out to other farmers for pasture.  That was all it was good for, anyway, and Bellamy made more than enough to keep them comfortable.  He rounded the corner separating his mother’s land from the Millers’ and heard a joyful shout in the distance.

Octavia had seen him from a quarter mile off and she was running to him, her skirts flying as she pumped her arms.  She threw herself into his arms with a screech and he swung her around.  “You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow,” she scolded, and he laughed and set her down.

“I got impatient.  Are you complaining?”

Octavia grinned and punched him in the shoulder.  “Never.”

His mother’s reaction was more subdued but no less joyful, and she insisted on making a roast even though he protested that the chicken she was going to make for herself and Octavia was more than sufficient.  But all throughout dinner she cast him careful, measured looks, and when Octavia was preoccupied with the washing she pulled him aside.

“Have you seen her?”

“No,” he said quickly, but his eyes darted to the window towards the Griffin homestead anyway.

“I thought you might have gone to see her first,” she said.  “I would have understood.”

Even after all these years, it hurt.  By all rights he should have been going to see Clarke first.  He should be coming back to marry her; he would be, in fact, if she had agreed to wait.  That was all he wanted— all he’d ever wanted.  Almost as much as he’d wanted an education.  

But she didn’t want him.

As the sun sank below the horizon he found himself pulling on his boots.  “Want some company?” Octavia asked, but he shook his head.  

“Just want to take a walk,” he said, and that was some of the truth.  Mostly, he wanted to show himself he could remember Clarke without falling apart.

He went straight for the tree on the rise between their property.  There had been some dispute over who found it first, him or Clarke, and for the first year they warred over it like opposing armies.  But at some point their enmity had shifted to friendship, and soon they used it as a meeting spot.  There was a hollow in it the perfect size for hiding treasures, and for years they left notes for each other there.  

The tree had been host to other things too, hesitant kisses and fumblings that were sweet and bright in his memory, with a clarity he had spent six years hoping to shake.  The sky turned orange and purple and pink and he sat down, thinking of all the times he had been in this very spot, his back leaning against the tree while Clarke sketched.  Sometimes she would lay her head in his lap and let him card his fingers through her hair, lulling her into a doze until their mothers shouted for them.

The tree was where he asked her to marry him, and where she broke his heart.  That’s not the life I want, she had said, her face immobile and cold.  He had left angry but that anger had turned to sadness by the time he arrived in his boarding house, but by then it was too late.  He started dozens of letters to her but none of them felt right, so in the end he simply told himself it was a childhood love and nothing more.

Sitting next to the tree now, six years later, he knew that was a lie.  He reached into the hollow out of idle curiosity, but his hand brushed something that didn’t belong.  It was hard, wrapped in waxy canvas, and when he pulled it out and unwrapped it, he recognized it.

Abby Griffin had kept it on the hutch near her doctoring kit, a plain, unremarkable wooden box except for the initials JG carved into the top.

It was Clarke’s.  That much was certain.  It was Clarke’s and he had no right to pry, but he told himself this tree didn’t just belong to her.  And he had spent so long yearning for anything of hers that the temptation was just to great.  He lifted the lid and all the air left his lungs at the sight of his name in her deliberate, careful cursive.  

Dozens and dozens of letters, and as he flipped through them he saw each one was addressed to him, all with a date marked neatly in the corner.  He chose one at random and looked at the date— three years ago.  Another was from five years ago, and one on the top was dated that very year.

His vision swam and he felt lightheaded.  Behind him the prairie grass rustled and he turned to see Clarke frozen five feet away.  “You found them,” she said, breathless.  “I heard you were back, and—”

He drank in the sight of her— she was just as he remembered but different too, like everything.  Some of her curves were softer and some of the lines of her face were sharper, but she was still Clarke, still so beautiful it hurt to look at her.  “You wrote to me,” he said dumbly.

Clarke sank to her knees and snatched the letters away.  She stuffed them haphazardly into the box without looking up.  “I never sent them,” she mumbled.

“You wrote to me,” he repeated.  “You— I thought you— you said no.  You said you didn’t love me,” he stammered out.  “Right here.  Six years ago.  I asked you to wait for me, and you said no.”

She sniffled and kept her eyes on the box.  Her hand shook as she fumbled with the latch and she shook her head.  “I never said I didn’t love you,” Clarke said quietly.

“I asked you to marry me,” he said again.  “You said no.”

“Because I didn’t want you to come back,” she said and looked up.  Her eyes gleamed but her chin was lifted, proud and fierce.  “I didn’t want this life for you.  You deserved better.  It wasn’t because— I never said I didn’t love you.  I did.”

“And right did you have to decide that for me?”

She tore her eyes away from him.  “None.  But I also knew I would never forgive myself if you came back here just for me.  I wanted you to be free-- free to choose without feeling beholden to me.”

Bellamy picked up a letter she had missed and looked at the date.  “You wrote to me last week,” he said.  A hope he thought was long extinguished bloomed in his chest.  “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you still love me?”

“What does that matter now?”

Bellamy lifted her chin with his finger so she was looking at him.  “Do you still love me?”

“How could I ever stop?” she said with a half-laugh, half sob caught in her throat.

Bellamy had won awards in school for his speeches.  He was devastating in the courtroom with them, and he could marshal them to win any argument, convince any opponent.  But here, words failed him.  

So he caught her face in his hands and kissed her instead.