#‘lighter glove’

[savetheghost]

i wish i had a workshop i could fill with tools and materials like a sponsored renaissance man

[its-stimsca]

Crowley stimboard. I wish British people were real…

🕶️ 🛞 🕶️ / 🛞 🕶️ 🛞 / 🕶️ 🛞 🕶️

[vannpirestims]

Robbie Reyes stimboard for @silkekruse

X|X|X X|X|X X|X|X

[rubybloodhound]

Local useless reptile draws at 11:01 AM (Not clickbait)

Just the image and an unedited version of it :3c The white thing is Arthur btw

[currentbrainworms]

gallagher stimboard

🧼|🍊|🖌️ 🎀|💗|🍸 🔥|🧤|💜

[moonstruckdraws]

okay- yeah- okok look- yes- alright- okaaaay @hellishgayliath

This. This is my favorite outfit.

I figured I wouldn't be able to make the dress look like the flower & then I stumbled upon a dress that had a rose on the hip with fabrics flowing out of it. Then it hit me & I made this draft

I love how the band & top of it kinda looks like petals & the heavy and light materials over the actual dress!!

I do think it might be too light? like I could've made the colors deeper, but i color dropped from the flower so. I was also going to make the gloves white, but the darker color fits more, I think so.

It's giving prom dress to me which I'm not entirely sure if I like or not. But I still think it's my favorite.

[spicyicymeloncat]

First attempt trying to draw all of them :)

[mariocki]

Edward Woodward stars as The Man (named Frank in dialogue), a neurotic adulterer in midlife crisis, in Play for Today: Evelyn (BBC, 1971), Rhys Adrian's adaptation of his previous radio play

[lunar-moji]

hobos shearing a just chilling. succ (dude on the left) belongs to PatateroArt

[malachitezmeyka]

Not to jerk myself off but I genuinely think Suiren's UtOS design was a stroke of genius on my part

[ivanadragmireartwork]

“Share a Light” 

[the-precious-sugar-chan]

also seems like kino wears one glove with his mmb uniform. one glove. one.

points for the asymmetrical madness once again

[nazumichi]

shirou “so constantly exhausted that they eventually reach a point of being out like a light in the worst situations” ogami, shirou “passed out on the floor after a fight, falls asleep standing up like a horse” ogami.

[mouthfulofdirtandmoss]

#chaos

i think what’s on a person’s nightstand is very telling so reblog this and put in the tags the things you have on your nightstand

[koushirouizumi]

{D I G I M O N} Adventure x {KARATEZ} ~ {Merch Collaboration} for 25th A n n i v e r s a r y of Series

Cap'd by @izzyizumi {Do Not Repost} {Do Not Copy} {Do Not Re-produce without my Permission Under any Circumstances!} (Please Ask to Use)

Rules under the 'read more'!

[beloveds-embrace]

part 2 of baker!reader + do not ever ask me to write accents lmao i suck at those 💀😭 and a huge thank you to all the sweet and dessert suggestions! i couldn't add all of them, but oh my god did i love all of them and choosing between them was sooo hard (that's what she said). if your dessert didn't make it here im soo sorry 😭

It was a quiet morning when you finally decided to reopen the bakery. The town had been whispering, speculating about the sudden disappearance of your husband—tragic, they said, to be found mauled by a bear in the woods. You hadn’t shed a tear, hadn’t flinched at the news. Maybe that was cruel of you, but after what you had endured, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything for him anymore. Not fear, not sadness—just relief.

And now, with the bakery open once again, you felt lighter. Freer.

The 141 boys were there first thing, as you had hoped. Each one walking into the cozy space like they belonged there. Their heavy, winter boots made the wooden floors creak, their towering frames somehow making the space feel intimate rather than intimidating. You smiled as the familiar smell of fresh bread and sugar lingered in the air, the warmth of the ovens cocooning you and the rest of the bakery in comfort. Free from that terrible man you’d called a husband, it was as if the world itself was taking on a more vibrant color.

“Morning, sweetheart,” John greeted you, his eyes crinkling beneath his hat, though there was something watchful in his gaze.

“Bonnie,” Johnny chirped, leaning on the counter, his eyes sparkling as they usually did when he spoke to you. “Place smells heavenly as always.”

“You’re open today, huh?” Kyle said, grinning as he eyed the display of pastries lined up neatly behind the glass. “Missed our favorite baker, honestly.”

Simon didn’t say anything at first, just gave you a long, steady look from behind his mask. You knew he had seen the signs. He was the only one who had seen the bruises, had taken your hands so gently that day and whispered that promise. You hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t said anything in return, but you had trusted him all the same. You are glad you did. You are so glad it’d been him to see.

Now, as you wiped your hands on your apron and stepped out from behind the counter, your heart was lighter than it had been in months. “Everything’s on the house today,” you said, your smile wider than it had been in ages. “For you guys, at least. After all… I’ve got a few new things for you to try.”

Soap raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that so? Then we’re in for a treat, eh boys?”

You went back to the counter, pulling out a few trays and plates, your hands moving quickly as you started setting them down in front of the men, watching their eyes light up at the spread. “I’ve been experimenting,” you said, your voice light, almost teasing. “For John, I’ve got pecan pie. Thought you might like it—something a bit rich, a bit warm.” Like you, goes unsaid but you hoped he still heard it.

John’s eyes gleamed as he accepted the slice you placed in front of him. “Always knew you were a mind reader,” he murmured with a chuckle, cutting into the pie and taking a bite. The smile that spread across his face was slow, but appreciative.

“For you, Kyle, lemon meringue tarts. Something sharp, refreshing. A little tangy,” you said, setting the plate in front of him. “And a bit sweet, too. Had a feeling you’d like it!”

Kyle laughed, picking up the tart and admiring it at first. “You know me too well.” He took a bite, his eyes widening at the burst of lemon on his tongue and then groaning in delight. “Perfect, as always.”

Simon watched you closely, and when you placed a plate of apple fritters in front of him, his gaze softened just slightly. “Made these with you in mind,” you said, your voice gentle. “Thought you’d appreciate something classic, Si. Simple, but comforting.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just nodded in that way of his, taking the fritter in his gloved hand. When he took a bite, his eyes closed briefly, and you could see the silent approval in the way his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly.

“And for you, Johnny,” you giggled, setting down a small bowl of Cranachan in front of him. “Thought you might like something traditional- whisky, raspberries, oats, and cream. Feels like a bit of home, doesn’t it? At least I hope so. It was my first time making it.”

Johnny beamed all the same, eagerly reaching for a spoon. “Ah, bonnie, you’re spoiling us.”

But it wasn’t just them you were thinking of. You had made a fresh batch of focaccia bread for yourself, but this wasn’t just any bread- it was bold, spiced with rosemary and topped with chilli flakes and garlic. It was a reflection of your own newfound boldness. You’d been quiet, subdued for so long. Now, you wanted to feel alive again.Perhaps it might seem corny, but this focaccia bread meant to signify that for you.

You set a slice of the focaccia on a plate for yourself, taking a bite as you sat with them, your smile not faltering for a second. It was savoury- settling warmth in your stomach. “I think this might be my new favorite, actually.” you said with a soft laugh. In your mind, you were already thinking of making and selling more of it.

They didn’t say much in response, still tasting their own desserts, but you could feel their appreciation, their understanding, in the quiet way they accepted it.

The rest of the bakery was alive with the smell of freshly baked treats: rich brownies, soft sugar cookies, fluffy cronuts, and delicate eclairs. Tres leches cakes sat next to pumpkin pies, while apple and custard empanadas filled the air with their sweet, warm scent. Cheesecakes, cardamom rolls, strawberry lamingtons—the selection was almost overwhelming, but everything sold well. Especially the bear claw pastries. You smiled softly to yourself at the irony. The bearclaw pastries might also be your new favorite, right alongside the focaccia.

Johnny noticed it immediately, the little twitch of your lips, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny, bonnie?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. “Oh, nothing. Just… the bear claws. They’ve been selling really well lately. Thought it was… fitting.”

Simon’s eyes flicked to you, then to the bear claw pastries sitting neatly in a display case. A slow understanding crossed his gaze, but he didn’t say anything. Just a slight nod, the corner of his mouth twitching, the silent acknowledgment of the truth that you all shared. You had no doubt the others knew about it as well- maybe even had a hand in it. Such incredible men.

And for the first time, standing in your bakery, surrounded by warmth and the quiet camaraderie of the men you had come to trust, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The past was behind you. Now, you had a future to look forward to—one filled with new beginnings, layers to unfold like a mille-feuille crepe cake, and the quiet reassurance that you were no longer alone.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” you said, raising your cup of coffee, your smile bright and genuine.

The boys raised their cups in return, their expressions soft but full of unspoken promises. “To new beginnings,” they echoed, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. Especially because you could see the way they were looking at you.

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