#my sewing skills are questionable at best

[tea-time-terrier]

Breaking my no selfie streak for this important update: I made my first coat!

[prettieinpink]

HABITS TO IMPLEMENT BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

DAILY AFFIRMATIONS

You can choose whatever time you’d like to say positive and affirmative statements to yourself. When saying affirmations, use the first person and present tense. E.g I am healthy, I take care of myself, and I am strong academically. 

Affirmations are so helpful because our brains struggle to tell the difference between imagination and reality. So, when we visualise ourselves doing something that's not actually happening, it stimulates the brain areas as if we were actually experiencing it.

So, repetitive affirmations will encourage your brain to treat it as fact. While this only works to an extent, it does help with self-sabotaging thought actions and thought patterns. 

EATING MINDFULLY

Eating mindfully is the practice of when consuming anything, you put your full focus on that meal. There are no devices that may distract you, you’re eating slowly and paying close attention to how different meals make your body feel. 

To eat mindfully, focus on the time it takes for you to finish your food. Is it enough time for your body to give signals about your meal? To chew thoroughly? Another thing is to turn off and eliminate any distractions. Such as being on any devices or multitasking. 

Eating too quickly means that your body may not have enough time to tell you that it's full. When you eat mindfully, it's easier for your body to register when it's full. Furthermore, it's easier to distinguish between true hunger and non-hunger triggers for eating. 

CREATIVE OUTLETS

For a lot of us, 2024 was a stressful year. We’re constantly hustling and not letting ourselves process what's happening in and around us. Having a creative outlet helps us to release and detach from those emotions. It allows us to experience that feeling, but leave it all behind in the end. 

Some examples are painting, clay artwork, creative writing, designing, sewing, crocheting and music. There’s a lot more you could do, but ultimately you have to do what's best for yourself. 

LEARNING SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY

At least one thing each day: aim to learn something completely new to you. Other than the fact that you are learning something new, it allows for your curiosity to grow and expand outside of your typical education institution. With curiosity, comes with the skill of being able to explore complications and come up with solutions. 

There are many ways you can learn, but I think the best way is by coming up with your questions in an area you’re unfamiliar with and then looking for an answer to your question. 

My favourite way has to be watching video essays. Doesn’t always have to be social commentary, but anything that seems interesting enough for me. 

COMPLIEMENT-A-DAY

I love receiving compliments from strangers. It leaves the widest smile on my face and I swear I feel so much lighter like I’m floating around. However, I never think to give a compliment to someone else who I don’t know. So, whenever you see the cutest outfit or the perfect lip combo, make sure to say it!

For those who may be shy in those kinds of interactions, practice saying it in your head. You don’t have to say it out loud to them, but thinking positively of other people will reflect on how you think about yourself. 

That is it for this post, thank you for reading until the end ♥︎ Until next time, take care of yourself ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[russellsppttemplates]

Uh oh, I'm falling in love (Lando Norris)

Y/N and Lando both have jobs that require good sight and attention to detail and yet they're oblivious to their feelings for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. I'm in a very fluffy mood, so I got really excited when I got this request! This also makes my expectations even higher and calls me single in about seventeen different languages at once...

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions a needle (for sewing)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey guys! How's everyone?", Max said to the camera as you made sure the set up was right, the screen showing his and Lando's faces on one screen and the table on the other like it was supposed to.

"As per your many, many requests, we have brought our graphic designer at Quadrant, Y/N", Lando announced as you appeared on camera, sending a very awkward first wave to the camera, "today's stream is little different than our usual programming, but it was the only way she agreed to be in one! You guys really wanted to see her, so we had to be creative!", Max said as he moved the friendship bracelets making kit into view on the table.

"Hey, Queen Taylor said we should make the friendship bracelets, so we're just following her!", you chuckled, looking at all the coloured threads and colourful beads, sorting them out and grabbing a pen and paper so you could draw your ideas.

"Since you guys wanted to get to know Y/N, can I tell them to send in questions?", Lando questioned you, "sure, I'll answer them to the best of mu ability", you smiled.

You were picking the letters you needed for the bracelet you were making when Max spoke up, "first one: how did you start working with Quadrant? I'd love to work on the team when I finish my degree!".

"I saw the job offer, and I must admit at first I didn't really know much about the company. I looked it up, looked cool enough and I sent my CV and portfolio in. So keep your eyes peeled for any offers, I guess? We have them now on the website, which was my doing, so you can check them out there if you want to be part of the team", you offered.

"I need help, guys", Lando said as he fiddled with his bracelet, the orange and grey beads with his initials sliding on the elasticated material, I can't do the closing knot on my own", he pouted as you placed your bracelet down.

"You have to flip it like this, here. Just put it on your wrist and I'll do the rest", you ushered him, your fingertips gingerly touching his hand and wrist as you quietly laced it, "this way we don't get frilly bits out and it looks pretty, see? Pretty!", you smiled, modelling his wrist for the camera.

Pretty, that's what he often thought about you. Not only pretty, but it was one of the first physical traits that came to mind.

"We should all have matching ones!", Max said as he completed his bracelet, impressively on his own, revealing the colourful beads with Quadrant spelled in white round beads with black letters, "I'll make one for each of you", he said as he watched you show your own, pink beads and a lyric he assumed was from a Taylor Swift song.

"I'll make Y/N's, she helped me after all", Lando said as one brave fan sent a comment into the chat.

He's so giddy to make Y/N a bracelet, it's a shame it will snap because of his lack of skills

Am I delusional if I say that they'd make a great couple?

If you're delusional, then what do I call myself? I still think they're making heart eyes at eachother whenever they catch the slightest glimpse!

We're joining forces, I think it's a noble pursuit!

He's a dork, Y/N, but you should give him a chance

Have you always known you wanted to be a graphic designer?

"I thought about different careers before I settled on this one, for now at least", you explained, "engineering was in the running up, but then I figured out that I was curious about how things worked, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be the one working on it. And this was a way to express my creativity, my strategy planning as well, and at the moment it's been quite good", you smiled as Lando grabbed your wrist softly, "I need to make sure this fits", he interrupted, "and it won't snap because I've learnt how to do it, thank you very much", he blushed. So he, too, was reading the comments, choosing not to dwell in them.

"Look, this way you always have a lucky charm with you everywhere you go, even if we're not together. We're eachothers lucky charms!", Lando announced as Max mafe a fake gagging noise.

.

"Are you all ready?", you said as you and Tara walked inside the room, clasping your watch on your wrist and hoping to find the boys ready.

Quadrant had been invited to a gala dinner that celebrated the companies in the same line of business, inviting five people to take part in the meal. After some team members politely declining the invitation since they had things booked already, the group ended up being Lando, Max, Callum, Tara and yourself.

The dress required everyone to up their usual style, hence the long dress you were wearing. Even though it was far from your usual everyday attire, you felt beautiful in the dress you ended up with after browsing the online shops for a while. The cut was simple, the skirt widening from your waist down and complimenting your curves as the sheen from the midnight blue fabric looked soft and sweet against your skin.

Lando seemed to think the same, trying his best to not let his mouth hang open when you and Tara walked inside their room, heels clicking on the wooden floor as you hurried them, "does it really take that long to put on a suit? I had to help Tara with the laces on her back and we still got ready faster than the three of you?", you asked, shaking your wrist to check if the dainty watch wasn't going to fall and that it wasn't too tight either.

Looking up to meet Lando's eyes, you were sure you physically and audibly gulped. No one should look that good in a plain white shirt. The cuffs were still unbuttoned, but the shirt itself was tucked in his black pants. He didn't have any jewellery, so his tanned skin caught your eye as it contrasted with his clothes.

"Lando has a problem with his shirt and we are trying to solve it", Max said, a little bit too antsy given that, at the naked eye, there didn't seem to be a big issue with the piece of clothing you had been inspecting quite closely.

"There was a loose button, and I tried to fix it, but I made it worse", Lando said as he pointed to the button on his hand, the slight movement showing you the place where it was supposed to he holding the piece together and closed.

"Three people in this room and no one thought about grabbing the sewing kit from the amenities?", Tara suggested, looking for it in the box that was the same as it was in your room, "see? Simple as that! Can you sew it, Y/N? My hand isn't fully healed yet, I can't quite grasp something that small yet".

Tara had injured herself earlier on in the week, prompting her to ask to tag out of the gala until you pleaded her to go so you wouldn't be alone, so she couldn't do it. None of the other guys seemed to even know how to pull the thread through the needle, so you grabbed the kit from Tara's hand, "sure, I'll do it", you said, "if that's okay with you, that is", you looked over at Lando.

"Sure, anything to solve this. Do I keep it on or should I take it off?", he questioned, wanting to slap himself straight after at his offer. Why would he volunteer to be shirtless in front of you? It certainly wasn't the way to go, shoving himself like that.

"On should be fine", you muttered, missing the snickers going on behind you as you wet the thread with your tongue, careful to not transfer any of the lipstick on it and ruining the piece without point of return for good, easily looping it through and adjusting the size of the ends.

"Button", you put your hand out so Lando could place it in your fingers, "I will do my best not to poke you, let me know if I do so accidentally", you mumbled at the closeness to him you found yourself in. It was the third button from the top, and as much as you loved the sight of the shirt slightly undone, the dinner required his shirt to be done up. Looping the thread on the button a few times, you moved to pierce the crisp white fabric so it would be secure, your hands dangerously close to his skin as you could hear his laboured breath. Lando still remembered and thought constantly about your fingers touching his hand and wrist when you did the friendship bracelets video for the YouTube channel, and right now, it only added to his predicament.

"It's done, all good!", you exclaimed, looking up as you cut the thread and seeing Lando's eyes on you. The intensity nearly threw you off of your balance as you stood the tiniest bit crouched down on your high heels.

Scrambling to further the distance between your bodies, you smoothed out the non existent wrinkles on your dress, storing the supplies back in the kit as Lando managed to utter out a thank you, too stunned and intoxicated by your scent to say anything else.

"I sewed a button as neither of you look any more ready that you were when we got here? We're going to be late!", you hurried, sitting next to Tara and ignoring her smirk as you scrolled through your phone.

.

"That shoot will have to wait since Lando won't be back here soon, then", you said, moving things around in the online shared calendar, "when did you say you could again? I'm sorry", you asked, rubbing your forehead and squeezing your eyes, adjusting your glasses and looking at him through the screen.

"The first weekend of the next month", Lando assured, "are you okay, Y/N?", he asked. The bags under your eyes didn't fool anyone and you looked tired. And sick, he guessed by the layers of clothing you had on.

"I had a pretty shit day, actually", you admitted, "I had to go with the guys from storage because there was an issue. The supplier sent the samples and we wanted to get things moving so I could have some ideas for the description and the social media team also wanted to prep the draft for the whole story telling, but it all went under. I also think I caught some bug, so it's been a fun day", you exaggeratingly smiled, mocking your own misery.

"You look like you need a hug, Y/N. Do you need a hug?", Lando asked as you nodded, "Actually, that would be pretty good, but I live alone. The neighbours would think I'm pretty weird if I went around like this asking for one, too", you reasoned.

Even though he wasn't next to you, Lando still managed to pull a smile out of you as he got up from the chair he was sitting in, hugging his laptop, "did you feel that hug?", he loudly wondered, "it's full of Get well soon fairy dust!", he smiled charmingly.

"Fairy dust, mate?", Callum wondered, reminding you of his presence in the videocall, "you try and spend more than a few hours with a little girl and you let me know. Mila has taught me all about fairy dust and princess magic", Lando added.

.

"How will we get out of here?", you wondered, starting to regret joining Lando, Max and Pietra when they said they were going to watch a football game. You loved the sport and you figured it would be a nice distraction after a work loaded week, but now, things were looking less than a distraction.

"We will let them space out once the game finishes, free up the roads as well because getting out of here will be a pain, too", Lando suggested.

The game granted your team a win and three points in the championship, the crowd going wild as they clapped, whistled and waved their scarfs, slowly leaving the stadium.

"Should we make a run for it now?", Pietra said, holding her boyfriend's hand as she allowed him to pull her away.

You followed Lando, thanking his choice of a colourful hoodie to wear today as it made it easier for you to spot him, "go in front of me, I'll back you up", he switched positions. You weren't having too much trouble until you were met with a ramp, people carelessly shoving others as they tried to leave as quick as they could, all with the same intent of avoiding traffic and crowded roads.

"Here, Y/N", you heard Lando as he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers in his and pulling you along, excusing you two as you approached Max and Pietra again, "we're here", you tapped the blonde woman's shoulder with your free hand.

"Goodness, that was and adventure", she said once you reached the stadium car park, the crowd clearing up significantly as there was maybe another ten people headed the same way as you were now, "is everyone alright? I think someone stepped on my foot quite a few times, or many people stepped on it at various different times", you reasoned, walking alongside Lando still.

"Don't we need to hand the bracelets back?", Max said as he looked at the sign, taking his bracelet off and depositing it in the box in the booth, Pietra doing the same as you seemed distracted.

"Are you okay, Y/N?", Max asked, seeing you and Lando were still holding hands and, because of that, not taking off your bracelets.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?", you scrunched your eyebrows, "we need to hand the bracelets back in, so I kind of need to have yours, too", he teased, looking at your hand still entwined with Lando's.

Removing your hand from Lando's as if it har started burning all of a sudden, you removed the bracelet, apologising quietly to the stadium employee as you thanked him, "shall we go now?".

"Dinner out?", Lando gulped, getting into the driver's seat, "Good idea, yes", Max added, sitting in the passenger's seat as you and Pietra sat in the back, your hand rubbing your other hand that had been laced with Lando's own one for a long time. Uh oh, you were falling in love.

.

The launch was finally over after an amazing response from the fans, leaving your heart happy and warm with a sense of mission accomplished.

"Is everything packed into the van?", you asked Tara, "yes, it's just this box. It has fragile things, so do you think you guys can take it in the car with you? It probably only fits at the front, so you'll have to squeeze in with the boys on the back", she smiled apologetically, "it's fine, we'll keep eachother warm like penguins do", you chuckled, holding the door open as she set the box safely.

Saying goodbye to her and the rest of the team, Max and Lando joined you, "You sit in the middle seat", Max pointed at you, opening the door ao you could scoot closer to Lando and he could get in.

"Could you tell me how long we have until get back?", Lando asked the driver, "with traffic at this hour, I'd say around 90 minutes", he smiled, turning on the blinker so he could leave the car park.

"Plenty of time for me to catch up on sleep, then!", you cheered, making yourself comfortable in the space you had, folding your scarf into an impromptu travel pillow, closing your eyes.

"Are you a snorer?", Max asked, making you blindly swat his thigh, "only when I'm sick, and lucky for you, I'm in presteen health, no blocked nose", you grumbled.

It didn't take you long to fall asleep. In the last week, all of the nights combined, you probably slept less than thirty hours, so your body was indeed in need of rest.

"And there it goes", Max said as your pillow undid itself, Lando lifting his shoulder in reflex so your head wouldn't drop drastically, landing on top of him, "Good thing she isn't our engineer, hm?", he chuckled, looking at how his bestfriend was looking at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

"I think I'm in love with Y/N", Lando whispered after he took your appearance in. You had forgone wearing make-up today, so he could see all your moles and scars, your pouty lips and the darkened skin under your eyes. It took everything in him to not bend down and kiss your forehead.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out, mate", Max added, shaking his head, "I genuinely thought you had some issue processing information, I'm glad to find out you don't.

"Now you just have to act on it, which is going to take you, what? Two, three more months?".

[murdockparker]

In Stitches

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Reader is on bedrest, nearing the end of a taxing pregnancy. Bored and restless, she hatches a plan to keep her hands busy.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Reader is pregnant, tooth-rotting fluff, self doubt, a joke about gaslighting.

A/N: sorry for the hiatus. I hated it too my loves, life is just... crazy. Also first Spencer fic?? word.

"I just have questions.”

“You always have questions,” she hummed, gliding her scissors across the purple fabric. “The only answer I have for you is that I’m on house arrest and restless. Gotta find some way to pass the time.”

“And tearing up my shirts is the best use of that time?”

“House. Arrest,” she clicked.

Spencer scoffed, smiling at her quip. The doctor had put her on bed rest for the last few weeks of her pregnancy, citing the stress of their job and the physical demand was too much for the baby. They had never planned on her continuing in the field during the final trimester anyway, but the doctor was adamant about as little stress as possible. “Bed rest isn’t the same as house arrest, lovey.”

“Sure feels like it,” she said, throwing a scrap over her shoulder onto the floor. “First, I had to give up sushi and my wine, now I have to sit around and be a proper housewife?”

“If it’s any consolation, you’ve never been a proper housewife,” Spencer said, cringing as soon as the words left his mouth. “I-I mean, in the traditional sense—you’re a hardworking woman with a rather successful career—”

“And now my husband is verbally abusing me,” she sighed, though no malice was in her tone. Very clearly a joke.

“I wouldn’t say—”

“And now he’s gaslighting me!” (Y/N) nearly giggled, trying hard to keep the argument going. Spencer joined in on her laughter.

“I…I’ll shut up now.”

She turned on her chair, looking up at Spencer. “Normally, I’d be against such a thing, but silence is appreciated in my time of solitude and sewing.”

“I didn’t know you could sew,” Spencer mumbled, rubbing her shoulder. 

“My dad taught me the basics,” she explained, placing the fabric into a pile. “I was always getting rips and tears in my clothing. He claimed it was a valuable life skill for me to learn, but I think he was just sick of doing the mending himself.”

“I love learning new things about you,” Spencer said softly, his eyes practically pooling with affection.

She snorted. “It’s not the most interesting fact about me.”

“Every new fact is the most interesting fact about you.”

“Okay sap,” she pinched his waist, causing him to flinch away from her. “You better get going to work before Hotch throws a hissy fit.”

“How could I?” Spencer had already moved over to the fridge, throwing the essentials in his lunch bag. “You’re tearing up my work clothes.”

“You haven’t worn this shirt in months,” she pointed at him with the scissors in her hand. “I should know, you packed it away for the move nearly five months ago. If anything, I’m giving it a new life.”

“A new life as…?”

“Nope,” she shook her head, rising from the dining table. With a few careful steps she made it over to the fridge. “Not telling. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“So it’s a project for me, then?”

All it took was a pointed look and a raised brow for Spencer to get the hint. He gave her a quick kiss, a loving goodbye to both her and their growing bundle of joy before leaving.

“Profilers.”

—

What started as a supposed and rare office day turned into a five day case in Wisconsin. Not unusual, given their line of work, but it was still exhausting to be away from his family for so long. Spencer decided exactly thirty hours into the case he’d never take the fact he worked with his wife for granted again.

His relief was found the second he returned to their home, opening the door to the smell of cookies and the sight of his wife hanging up their jackets in the hallway.

“Spence!” (Y/N) exclaimed, all but dropping the remaining coats to embrace him. “I didn’t know you’d be back tonight, Pen made it seem like you guys were still going to be there until tomorrow!”

“We had a new lead that wrapped it up rather quickly,” Spencer said, hugging her a bit tighter, not ready to let go of her warmth. “You’re unpacking?”

Their attention was turned to the boxes on the floor. All but one of their winter coats had already been removed and hung in the entryway closet. “I told you, I’ve been restless—” 

“Honey, you’re supposed to be resting,” Spencer smoothed her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. “This could’ve waited until I got home.”

“I want to be settled before she comes, you know?” (Y/N) tried to explain, a hand moving protectively on her bump. “Nesting and all that.”

“How much more unpacking did you do when I was gone?” He didn’t need to ask, he already saw the pile of broken down boxes in their living room. If he had to guess, she’d made quite a dent in them. 

“Only a little,” she argued. “After I finished my sewing project the mountain of boxes overwhelmed me—it’s silly that you think I could’ve stopped myself from doing it.”

He laughed. “I guess so.”

“I mean, who buys a house around the same time they’re expecting a baby? It’s maddening!”

He bit his tongue, knowing any statistic that popped into his mind to correct her wasn’t worth sharing with his extremely pregnant wife. He already learned his lesson when he corrected her on the history of bubblegum a few weeks ago. 

“Maddening,” he agreed.

“So what if I unpacked a few boxes? I finally found my KitchenAid! Packed with the baking trays if you could believe it.”

“That explains the cookies,” Spencer said softly, smiling at his wife like she held the world in her hands. “Please tell me that other than the few boxes and cookies you spent your time off of your feet and resting?”

“Would I lie to you?” She crossed her arms, pursing her lips.

He gave her a trying look.

“Don’t answer that.” 

“Will you please go sit down? I’ll bring you a plate of those delicious smelling cookies and you can interrogate me about my extremely exciting trip to Wisconsin,” Spencer rubbed her back lovingly, trying his best to convince her.

“Jokes on you, I was just about to go sit down anyway,” she kissed his cheek, patting his jaw lovingly. He needed to shave. “Now I get cookies brought to me by my handsome husband.”

It was chocolate chip cookies she had made, her mother’s recipe as far as he could tell. It was her go-to when she made cookies, save for the peanut butter blossoms she made for the holidays. Spencer loved either kind, especially because they were made with the loving care of his wife. Placing five of the still-warm cookies on a plate, he walked to their living room, his wife already making good on her promise of sitting on their new couch.

She claimed they didn’t need a new one, but Spencer made a rather convincing argument, the dark green of the new couch would fit much better into the aesthetic of their new home. (Y/N) didn’t have much of a leg to stand on, given her old couch was a ratty grey one she had since college. It was also really ugly, a fact Spencer chose to keep to himself.

Sitting on their—rather beautiful—couch beside his wife was a purple teddy bear, the striped fabric looking familiar. “You made a bear…?”

(Y/N) quickly tried hiding the stuffed animal behind her back. “What? No.”

“(Y/N),” Spencer chided lightly, sitting down beside her, the plate of cookies nearly forgotten on their coffee table. “I saw the bear.”

“I didn’t have time to wrap it,” she explained, pulling it out from behind her. “Again, wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow…”

With the purple bear in his hands, it was clear his suspicions were correct. It was made out of the shirt, the striped purple one she had cut up days prior. “You made this?”

“I did,” she nodded, feeling bashful. “I convinced a friend to let me borrow her sewing machine to finish it. I tried hand stitching, but my patience was growing thin, you can only prick your finger enough times before nearly giving up.”

He laughed at that. “I see.”

“To clarify the bear isn’t for you,” she said quickly, sensing his confusion and possible disappointment. “I mean, in a way it is? But it’s for her—”

“I figured that much,” he laughed again.

“I just thought, y’know, given our jobs and how often you or I might be away from her,” (Y/N) shrugged, placing both hands on top of her stomach. “It’d be nice to have a piece of you behind. So… I made the bear out of your shirt.”

“It’s really—”

“It still took like, a stupid amount of hours,” she continued. “And even if you hate it or think it’s stupid, please be gentle with your critique. I know the eyes are wonky and—”

“It’s a very thoughtful—”

“I figured you’d like the purple shirt I chose, but I was hesitant because you loved that shirt, it was the one I bought you for your birthday years ago, the one you told me I shouldn’t have bought you but I did it anyway—”

“My love,” Spencer placed his hands on top of hers. “You need to breathe.”

His shoulders raised, inhaling deeply, hoping she’d mirror his movements. To his surprise, she followed along instantly. 

“Better?”

“A little.”

“Before you cut me off again,” Spencer chucked, looking at her in that sickening way he always did, the kind of way that made her want to melt into the couch. “I was trying to tell you how much I loved it, the idea, the execution, everything about it.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” he mumbled. “To think about her snuggling with this, obviously when she’s old enough to be left with stuffed animals—around the one year mark or so—especially cuddling with it when I’m away? I-I don’t know what to say…”

She could see the tears forming on his face, afraid they’d fall. “Oh no, I didn’t mean for you to cry!”

“Happy tears, my love,” Spencer clarified. “And perhaps a bit of mourning for one of my favorite shirts.”

“You haven’t worn it in a while,” she tried to argue.

“You haven’t worn your wedding dress in a while,” he teased, pulling her into his side. “Should I go and cut it up for a heartfelt gift for our daughter, too?”

“Hm, perhaps when she gets married. Could be her ‘something old’?”

Spencer’s face blanched, flashes of a distant future in which he was walking his little girl—someone he hadn’t even met yet—down the aisle. “I’m not ready for that. She’s not allowed to get married, ever.”

“Spence, she doesn’t even have a name yet, of course she’d not getting married anytime soon,” (Y/N) giggled, her laughter like a bell. His worried heart immediately felt at ease, the medicinal properties of her laugh was something he wanted to study.

“We should probably get around to that,” Spencer nodded, thinking back to their list of potential names.

“Probably.”

Her sweater felt like heaven against his fingers, soft fibers tickling his senses as he rubbed her side, enjoying the feeling of her next to him. “I’m just so ready to meet her, to hold her, to love her,” he sighed.

“Me too,” she said, her tone matching his entirely. “I want to be more sweet about it, but I’m so ready to not be pregnant anymore.”

“Just a few more weeks,” Spencer nodded, knowing the toll the pregnancy was taking on his wife. “We’ll celebrate with a dinner of all the foods and drinks you had to give up for most of this year.”

“We’ll also have a baby,” (Y/N) added.

“I know, but I figured you would be placated by the idea of a fun dinner,” Spencer smiled. “On top of our daughter being here.”

“God I miss sushi,” (Y/N) moaned, head turned towards their ceiling. “Yes, okay, a fun dinner would be excellent. Snuggling our perfect girl while inhaling a spicy tuna roll from that place downtown, sounds like a dream.”

“Well, preferably inhaling it away from our daughter, but yes, that sounds nice,” Spencer smiled softly.

“Our daughter…” (Y/N) said, looking down at her baby bump. “I still can’t believe we’re having a baby. Like, genetically fifty percent me and fifty percent you—one hundred percent our legal responsibility.”

“That’s typically how it works…”

“We’re not going to ruin her, are we?” She asked, turning to look at her husband. “I mean, with the work we do, how often we’ll likely be away…”

“She has her new bear,” Spencer said, his voice softer than silk. He pulled the bear into her lap, drawing her attention to it. “You already thought of something so kind to give her, to know we’re going to be with her even when we’re gone.”

“It’s only your shirt though,” she sighed, feeling too emotional about a silly bear. “She’ll only think of you.”

“Make another one,” Spencer offered. “You have that green blouse with the lipstick stain on it—the one you insisted you could get the mark out of?”

“I never got it out..."

“Cut around it,” he laughed lightly. “Even if you decide to not make another bear, rabbit or whatever animal your beautiful mind comes up with, she’ll know how much you love her.”

“You think?”

Spencer hugged the bear tightly, squeezing it as hard as he could. “Angel, I can feel the love you put into this bear. I know she will too.”

She smiled at that. 

“I know how scary this all is,” Spencer reiterated. “I mean, I’m terrified. She’s going to be so little, so reliant on us, so fragile. But you know what else?”

(Y/N) tilted her head up. “What else?”

“She’s going to be perfect,” he said lowly, honestly, truly. “I just know when we meet her for the first time, all of those fears are going to just melt away.” His fingers wrapped between hers, squeezing them just tight enough, enough to convey every emotion he was feeling in that moment. “And even if they don’t? Even if we both are constantly freaking out and taking her to the doctor all the time or wrapping everything in bubble wrap, we’ll get to do it together, as a team.”

“We make a good team,” she agreed.

“The best team.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, hands still intertwined. “Thank you, I needed to hear that.”

“It’s the truth,” Spencer said, love oozing from his lips. “We’ll be ready for her.”

“I know,” she hummed in contentment, enjoying the moment. “I already did so much unpacking when you were gone.”

“Please let me do the rest, angel.”

She laughed lightly, patting his arm.

“No.”

—

BONUS:

Spencer had been going through their closet, trying to find a specific shirt for work—the one that matched a green tie he had in mind. “My love, was there another box of shirts hanging around? Or is everything already unpacked?”

(Y/N) placed the book she had been reading in her lap, looking towards their closet. “I think so? Why, is something missing?”

He walked out of the closet, hands on his hips. “I think a few of my shirts are missing.”

She bit her lip. “Uh… no, I don’t think there’s any shirts missing. You must be remembering wrong.”

Spencer blinked, posture unchanged.

“Which… would be impossible because you don't remember anything wrong,” she groaned, rolling out of their bed and planting both feet onto the ground. “Fine, okay. You’re missing a few shirts.”

His lip quirked, a smile tugging up one corner. “Casualties of your sweet gift, I imagine?”

“Shut up,” she swatted the air, not even in his general direction. “I couldn’t get the pattern right. The online print out was terribly misleading.”

He laughed. “I’m sure it was, angel.”

“It was!”

He took a few gentle steps over to her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her hairline. “I believe you.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

He kissed her again, this time, on her lips.

“But we do have to replace those shirts.”

[cazzyf1]

An Article about Lella Lombardi - Nobody makes jokes about women drivers around Lella Lombardi

The sleek Lola T-332 racing car crossed the starting line at the river side, Calif, Grand Prix, hurtled ahead of three cars, and swooped back inside with split-second timings.

"You mean that's really a girl?" Muttered three times indianapolis 500 winner A. J. Foyt, looking on in incredulously from the side liners.

For Lella Lombardi, the first woman in 17 years (and the second ever) to compete on high performance Formula One circut - the big leagues of professionals auto racing - the question is all but invetable. What in the world is a nice Italian girl like Lella doing in overalls and a crash helmet, risking her life at speeds close to 200 miles an hour?

"That's what mama keeps asking me," says the tomboyish 31-year-old Lella, "I guess she thinks I should be home with a good husband and a houseful of bambini."

It was obvious from the beginning, to Lella at least, that she was cut from different cloth compared to most girls. Born in the little Piedmontese village of Furgarolo, she was hooked on auto racing before she was out of diapers.

"The first I remember, I am perhaps 4 or 5 years old," she recalls, "I was making little cars from things I found in my mum's sewing box. When I was 8 I decided I shall be a racing driver. I didn't say anything but I made up my mind."

As a teenager Lella raced motorcycles with boys in her village. The boys were scandalized she beat them - their mothers that she was racing at all. Eventually the village priest came to call.

"He explained why I should be like a girl and what a girl must do," she remembers. "So I told him, 'yes father' but all the time I am thinking why am I not allowed to do as I want."

Nothing if not persistent, Lella saw her first race at 18. Five years later she brought a car of her own, secondhand, Formula Monza 500 that she tinkered with and drove in races herself. Last year, nearly after a decade of coming up through the ranks, she was approached by March Racing Ltd, of England which was looking for a driver for its two-man Grand Prix team.

"Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 5000 - I raced in them all," says Lella, "I win a lot in Italy - six times women's champion. So when March comes to ask me to try out for them, I say to myself, 'Why not?'"

March's decision to hire her was hardly made lightly. A single Grand Prix car costs $100,000 and putting it through a season of racing costs several hundred thousand dollars more.

"Putting a woman into a Grand Prix cockpit means shattering a lot of tradition," acknowledges March team manager, Max Mosley. "Of course, my wild told me, the only reason I was hesitating was because of Lella's sex, no doubt about her skill, in the end, I guess my wife was right."

Now prepping for this Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Lella is given little chance of winning a race this season (although she finished a respectable sixth in last week's accident-shorter Spanish Grand Prix) since March is designing its cars. Some drivers perhaps disturbed by Lella's invasion of their male peserve, doubt the chunky, 5"2, Lombardi has the stamina for long-distance racing. But March chief Roy Wardell, was watching her during a gruelling test of the company's racers, disagrees.

"Thrasing a car about it bloody hard work," he says, "most male drivers would have been bitching and complaining but she drove more than 300 miles flat out without a whimper." Her main fault, says Wardell, is a rookie's understandable caution. "Lella is still a bit afraid that if she spins out everyone will say, 'see a woman driver'" he says, "but her confidence is building. Pretty soon she'll be mixing it up with the best of them."

[elderberries-and-honey]

Dear Gladys,

I have been home with Beth and my sisters for a little over a week now. Mostly, I have been working on my cross-stitch; Beth says I have some of the best embroidery skills for a girl my age that she has ever seen! I suppose this shouldn't have shocked me so much, since Ms Hoffman always complimented my skill, but it seems to mean more from Beth since she is so good herself.

Beth told me that when she was a girl, she was very poor, and she sewed all of her and her sister's clothes by hand. She says this is why she often makes mine and my sisters dresses; she calls it 'a habit she never grew out of'.

But even though I love my needlepoints, my hands grow sore and sometimes I just can't stand it anymore when the needle keeps biting my fingers! So, I cannot imagine how Beth does it for so long. If I was ever rich, I think I would buy a sewing machine instead.

Beth and I have worked in the kitchen together before, but now, she says, I should learn more since it will be good for me as a wife. She has been teaching me to bake all sorts of things, and of course, I thought of you and your family!

First, we started with bread, and she taught me to knead dough by hand, which I did not realise was such hard work! I think I will savor every bite of the bread from your bakery from now on.

After I mastered the bread well enough, we moved onto some pastries, and I liked that a whole lot more. She has taught me how to make Papanasi, which is my father's favourite dessert. Next week, we will make Kissel, since the big cranberry harvest is this Saturday afternoon. Though I am not too fond of them, I am still excited anyway.

Something to know about Beth, is that she is what my mother calls, 'very devout'. My mother says this is why she respects Beth so much, because Beth practices her beliefs everyday, not just on Sundays like some people.

And so, Beth and I have started to read the Bible together at least a little bit everyday. But reading with Beth isn't like it is in church at all; she actually makes it fun! When we're finished with our daily passages, she even lets me ask all sorts of things about our reading, and never, ever sighs impatiently. I think this is what my mother means when she says Beth practices everyday because most grown ups I know do not like it when you ask so many questions.

I think Beth might be the kindest woman in the entire world, and I must say, if we all must become grown ups someday, I hope that I am like her.

Goodness, I miss you so much; it feels like it's been years since I've seen you, rather than a week. I hope I receive a letter from you soon, and you simply MUST tell me what is going on with everyone in class.

Sincerely,

Flora Belle

Thank you again to @antiquatedsimmer for the bible pose pack who without this scene would still just be fever dream in my head. Be sure to check out my lovely friend's other pose packs here!

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: just answering to some sweet messages and casual questions!

I'm not sure what you mean 😅 I just started talking about DU drow and my thoughts on BG3 because I got bit with the writing bug. I figured out how to best tag things as I went!

Thank you! I use the Artemus brushes from CSP assets to do my lines, and I'm a huge fan of many of the brushes from the DAUB packs, especially the PIGMENTO set.

Thank you so much! I've been drawing since I was a child, but I started taking it seriously in my late teens. How long a drawing takes depends on many factors and varies a lot, but much of stuff in this blog took anywhere from a few hours to 1-2 days to complete.

So glad you've been enjoying the patreon, thank you so much for your support!

I'm crafty by necessity, mostly LOL I'm a cheapsteak so I have some minor skill in a few areas like carpentry, sewing, general home-upkeep, that kind of thing. It's not as artistic as it is just practical knowledge, though I'm sure you could argue that there's a lot about it that overlaps with the way I approach art. Drawing has indeed always been something I did, and I was definitely the "kid that draws" of the class growing up.

The concepts for Sad Sack and Sortie were the brainchildren of my partner, @barbatusart, so I'm afraid I can't really speak to that question specifically. BUT I would say you pretty much nailed it already: you have to do whatever you're passionate about in that moment and hopefully that will attract the attention of others with similar interests. Overthinking whether or not something will be well received when it has barely been conceived yet is kind of a creativity killer, in my personal opinion. Dance like nobody can see you and you are bound to impress at least a couple of people with confidence alone.

You're incredibly sweet 😭😭😭 I'm just trying to have fun here! The BG3 community in general is incredibly chill, to be fair, which makes it easy to follow suit. We're all adults trying to ponder the orb and the five million different universes where we romanced the same 2-to-3 people, you need a level head to deal with that, I guess!

The visuals here are a little dated, but perhaps it being from a time when I was drawing more realistically could actually be helpful in this case! Either way I think the written advice is much more helpful and it holds up to the way I learned/do things still.

LOL, minus the body scars that I add in my art DU drow is 100% all larian homebrew, so I always figured someone, somewhere, would eventually make an exact carbon copy of him by accident except name him Greg or something. It's totally fine and I would be crazy to get upset about it 😂😂😂Frankly, I'm surprised it isn't more common! When I made him I really felt like I was just playing Generic Beefsteak Generator 2000.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

This is something that's been on my mind for a bit, but is there anything Marinette is technically bad at? Stammering around Adrien doesn't count, and the only thing I can think of is Frozer, where Marinette needed Luka's help to skate.

She's an expert gamer, apparently an amazing baker, a fashion virtuoso, a mechanical engineer (her diary box and her sewing kit with the Miracle Box in it), a perfect leader, an incredible artist, the best Guardian, and God knows what else. She was even able to adapt to different miraculous powers, have little trouble fighting with new weapons, and just acquire new skills in a snap. Literally, during Kagami's debut episode, she was also able to adapt to fencing really easily.

The question is, are there any instances that at least prove me wrong? I hope so, because Marinette has always struck me as the kind of protagonist where they just slap on skill after skill as the plot requires, and my opinion on this show is already so low....

Well, she does struggle to speak Mandarin Chinese, so that's something.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[cupcakeslushie]

Hello!! I’m obsessed with your EW comic!! I was reading one of your responses and you mentioned Leo having a love language of quality time and acts of service what are the other brothers love languages?

(Plus I love how whenever we see Leo and usagi sleep together Leo is always laying on usagi’s chest💖 it’s so cute!!)

Full disclosure….I feel in my bones like I’ve had a similar question before, but I looked for it and couldn’t find it. I very much remember talking about love languages for the boys at one point. But it’s lost to me, so forgive me if I’m inconsistent here. Tho.. I’m pretty confident that my answer has remained not far off from whatever I said that first time.

Donnie’s is just like in the show—gifts! But seeing as he’s just as chaotic as Rise Donnie—only in different ways—a lot of his gifts may sometimes backfire, but he can at least reign it in for the really meaningful scenarios, like birthdays and holidays.

Raph’s love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch! He’s always the first to hype up one of the others when they’re feeling down, and makes sure that they’re not being too hard on themselves. He’s maybe not as eloquent as Dr. Feelings, but he’s the best to give out amazingly sturdy hugs.

Mikey’s are quality time and acts of service. He can spend hours with Donnie in his lab, just the two of them and he often makes sure the rips in Raph’s favorite sweatshirts don’t get too wide, using his sewing skills to repair them before they get so bad. He will also pay close attention and quietly archive which foods Leo seems to like. While Leo and Donnie both grew up with very bland palates, Mikey can at least trust Donnie to tell him when he does or doesn’t care for something. Leo on the other hand, will always act like he’s somehow above fussing over something as childish as a favorite food. But there’s little tells for the meals he prefers. Mikey sees though his shit, and will plan accordingly when Leo needs an emotional boost.

(And yes. Leo takes full advantage of fluffy pillow)

[ghouldtime]

HI HI HELLO MY NEW FAV COD ACC <33 from my comments you can see how much i love your könig teehee 😚😚 Question ! if he would give them any gifts (ex: birthdays or christmas), what kind of gift would he give? would he give a “just because” gift or naw? to me, i’d think he’d give very thoughtful and hand-made things but i’d like to know your input :33 LOVE YOU!!

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 AWWWH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH I'm so glad you like my version of him :D

(I'm just assuming the 'them' being 'the person who is closest to him/a Significant other')

König is a considerate, thoughtful gift giver. Because his words tend to fail him and actions speak louder than words, he speaks THROUGH those actions. Giving gifts is actually one of his favorite love languages! He knows he can't be around all the time and it's his way of giving a solid reminder of his affection and care for you.

He's actually someone who hates thoughtless or "useless" gifts. Being given things that you can't use and don't fit you is basically just offloading junk or saying you don't put thought into it or try to consider the person. It's one thing if the attempt is there but usually many people are lacking. He's not one of those.

Before he gets you ANYTHING, he's thoroughly considering it. What do you need? What do you want? What do you like? He always tries to figure out by what you say or even off handed remarks. Usually, casually talking to someone is the best way to find out what gift they need or might want.

Such as someone who mentions that, offhandedly, their old baking apron is a bit stained and dirty and are embarrassed about the state of it as they put it on. Not that he cares, he sees those as indication of it being well used and well loved, but if you seemed so flustered, why on earth wouldn't he make you a new one with fancy pockets and all? He knows how to sew. And he can pick a fabric of your favorite color! And monogram it! (ignore the little crown on the tag, that's just his personal signature)

He's very much someone who gives 'just because' gifts. He doesn't need an occasion to do it. Just going "I saw this and thought of you" is enough of a motivator. Don't always expect a fancy presentation, he'll often just give you things without warning.

The only time he'll REALLY go out of his way to put in extra effort for aesthetics and presentation would be on days personally significant to you and things such as holidays/birthdays where that is usually a given. His gifts will NEVER be low effort, but he'll be putting in that extra touch on those times.

They'll always be personal, clearly thought out, even if it is just a box of chocolates with a handwritten note on top. That being said, he greatly prefers to handmake gifts he gives. "It's the thought that counts" is usually expressed best by him when its something he makes himself. He'll put love into every second he makes it (even if he's saying some not so lovely words if he does something like burning his hand on a hot glue gun, RIP)

Naturally, he has that artistic side, he got it from his mom. He's got a wide range of skills and talents and will pick up new projects and types from time to time. Learning a new skill or art style is absolutely on the table so if you want something, he'll learn, he'll do it. He LIKES learning, he likes getting to find new creative ways to express himself, he likes trying his best and seeing just what he can do. It keeps his hands busy, mind sharp, and it makes you happy! Win-win situation all around.

His most favored craft is certainly creating miniatures and his beloved dioramas - he'll be ecstatic if you share his enthusiasm and WILL make whatever you want. Doesn't care what it is, if you want to paint a detailed scene of unicorns getting their hooves done at a salon, he'll do it. Nothing is too out there, he just wants to make you happy.

But in general, expect plenty of random gifts from him. They're not always going to be the most extravagant but he'll put his heart into it as thanks for sharing yours with him 💚

[richincolor]

December Releases

As we prepare for our hiatus, we are gathering the releases for December all in one place for readers. Next week, we'll start posting our favorites from 2024 and then we will have a bit of a break and see you again in 2025. Here are the books we're watching for in December.

December 3

Encanto: Nightmares and Sueños by Alex Segura Disney Press

Return to Casita where we find seventeen-year-old Bruno from Disney’s hit animated film Encanto, where readers will finally learn what happened to make people never want to talk about him.

Fans will love this dark and mysterious young adult novel by Alex Segura, a NYT bestselling author who also wrote Poe Dameron: Free Fall and Araña and Spider-Man 2099: Dark Tomorrow.

Seventeen-year-old Bruno has never really fit in with his family—why can’t he be as outgoing as his sister Pepa, or as friendly as his sister Julieta? Does he like being the awkward loaner who never seems to find where he can fit in? But it’s hard to be popular when you have the power to tell the future and people don’t always like what you are telling them. So Bruno devises an act, and begins to model the behavior he feels the town wants to see in a hero.

But is being dishonest to himself and others the right path to walk down in order to make friends, or is Bruno just kidding himself as he hides from his own destiny that threatens to destroy all he holds dear?

My Fairy God Somebody by Charlene Allen HarperCollins

The way Clae’s mom tells it, her dad took off when Clae was a baby, end of story. Ever since, it’s just been the two of them, living in the coastal city of Gloucester, where Clae is one of the only few Black girls. But when Clae discovers clues about a mysterious person she calls her fairy god somebody, she’s determined to know more.

Her chance comes when she’s accepted into a summer journalism program in New York City, where her parents lived before she was born. With a couple of leads and a steel resolve, Clae leaves home for the first time to find out about her history.

New York is as full of magic as it is mystery, not to mention romance. From Brooklyn to Broadway, Clae and her new friends, Nze and Joelle, explore neighborhood haunts and hustles, discovering a family trail that someone’s tried hard to bury. So who is the fairy god somebody? And can Clae use her sleuthing skills to find out the truth?

Set against one unforgettable NYC summer, this is the story of lies that run deep and patterns that are meant to be broken. Clae, Nze, and Joelle will stick with you and remind you that every girl deserves to write her own story.

The Last One by Rachel Howzell Hall Entangled Publishing, LLC (Red Tower Books)

Thrown into a desolate land of sickness and unnatural beasts, Kai wakes in the woods with no idea who she is or how she got there. All she knows is that if she cannot reach the Sea of Devour, even this hellscape will get worse. But when she sees the village blacksmith fight invaders with unspeakable skill, she decides to accept his offer of help.

Too bad he’s as skilled at annoying her as he is at fighting.

As she searches for answers, Kai only finds more questions, especially regarding the blacksmith who can ignite her body like a flame, then douse it with ice in the next breath.

And no one is what—or who—they appear to be in the kingdom of Vinevridth, including the man whose secrets might be as deadly as the land itself.

When the Mapou Sings by Nadine Pinede Candlewick Press

Infused with magical realism, this story blends first love and political intrigue with a quest for justice and self-determination in 1930s Haiti.

Sixteen-year-old Lucille hopes to one day open a school alongside her best friend where girls just like them can learn what it means to be Haitian: to learn from the mountains and the forests around them, to carve, to sew, to draw, and to sing the songs of the Mapou, the sacred trees that dot the island nation. But when her friend vanishes without a trace, a dream—a gift from the Mapou—tells Lucille to go to her village’s section chief, the local face of law, order, and corruption, which puts her life and her family’s at risk.

Forced to flee her home, Lucille takes a servant post with a wealthy Haitian woman from society’s elite in Port-au-Prince. Despite a warning to avoid him, she falls in love with her employer’s son. But when their relationship is found out, she must leave again—this time banished to another city to work for a visiting American writer and academic conducting fieldwork in Haiti. While Lucille’s new employer studies vodou and works on the novel that will become Their Eyes Were Watching God, Lucille risks losing everything she cares about—and any chance of seeing her best friend again—as she fights to save their lives and secure her future in this novel in verse with the racing heart of a thriller.

December 17

Spell of the Sinister (A Fairy Godmother #2) by Danielle Paige Bloomsbury

Two magical sisters. One more chance at revenge. . . .

Ever since Cinderella disappeared with Prince Mather the queendoms have been in disarray. Now with her magical power completely unchecked, Galatea intends to exact revenge on humans for using the Entente. Her plan? Send Bari off to find a new prince and take over one queendom at a time. But Bari’s mission is complicated when South joins her and sparks begin to fly . . .

Meanwhile, Farrow is on her own journey to reunite with Cinderella and Prince Mather in the first Queendom. Amid brewing conflict, Farrow grapples with her feelings for Mather, her friendship with Cinderella, and her loyalty to the Entente’s original purpose–to influence with helpful magic, never take total control.

Once as close as sisters, Bari and Farrow now find themselves on opposing sides. Will malice win out, or will the next generation of Entente chart a new path to “happily ever after” for their magical coven of fairy godmothers?

December 24

Heavenly Tyrant (Iron Widow #2) by Xiran Jay Zhao Tundra Books

After suffering devastating loss and making drastic decisions, Zetian finds herself at the seat of power in Huaxia. But she has also learned that her world is not as it seems, and revelations about an enemy more daunting than Zetian imagined forces her to share power with a dangerous man she cannot simply depose. Despite having vastly different ideas about how they must deconstruct the corrupt and misogynist system that plagues their country, Zetian must join this man in a dance of truth and lies and perform their roles to perfection in order to take down their common enemy, who seeks to control them as puppets while dangling one of Zetian’s loved ones as a hostage.

With political unrest and perilous forces aiming to undermine Zetian at every turn, can she enact positive changes as a fair and just ruler? Or will she be forced to rely on fear and violence and succumb to her darker instincts in her quest for vengeance?

December 31

Ex Marks the Spot by Gloria Chao Viking Books for Young Readers

For Gemma’s whole life, it has always been her and her mom against the world. As far as she knew, all her grandparents—and thus her ties to Taiwanese culture—were dead. Until one day when a mysterious man shows up at her door with two shocking the news that her grandfather has just recently passed, and the first clue to a treasure hunt that Gemma hopes will lead to her inheritance.

There’s just one major to complete the hunt, she has to go to her grandfather’s home in Taiwan. And the only way she can get there is by asking her ex and biggest high-school rival, Xander, for help. But after swallowing her pride, Gemma finds herself halfway across the world, ready to unearth her life-changing prize. Soon Gemma discovers that the treasure hunt is about much more than money—it’s about finally learning about her family, her cultural roots, and maybe even finding true love.

Filled with ingenious puzzles, a vibrant Taipei setting, and a delicious romance, Ex Marks the Spot is an exciting adventure by award-winning writer Gloria Chao, perfect for fans of Loveboat Taipei, The Inheritance Games, and Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes.

[osamusbigtits]

it's an odd day for motoya. he's spending time with osamu and osamu alone. they haven't really gotten much one on one time. typically, suna is with them. suna is the one who brought motoya into the relationship.

but sitting here on the couch, watching a cheesy romcom with osamu, motoya wonders if he's doing it wrong. this whole dating his boyfriend's boyfriend thing.

osamu's been very involved with suna and motoya. and motoya never minds; in fact, he loves the added attention. he's gotten time alone with suna, for then to talk and explore and figure things out.

but motoya isn't quite sure where he stands with osamu.

motoya chances a glance over at the man. osamu sits casually, legs spread and an arm thrown on the back of the couch. he checks his phone with every occasional ping. motoya assumes there's a myriad of things osamu must worry about ranging from his restaurant to his twin brother.

motoya checks his phone to a rather apparent lack of notifications. he frowns.

osamu sits up and stretches. motoya shamelessly watches the flex of osamu's muscles and his eyes dart to osamu's tummy when his shirt lifts up and exposes the skin.

"hungry?" osamu asks.

motoya takes a moment to collect himself. "I could eat," he manages to reply.

osamu hums and stands up. "I'll whip us up something real quick, darling," he says and walks away. motoya's face flushes at the pet name.

motoya brings his focus back to the movie. he gets easily immersed in the story. he loves a good romcom, especially one where the main character is stuck in an internal battle of what man to choose.

"there's a clear answer," motoya mutters to himself as the main character hashes out her grievances to her best friend. "the one tried hitting on your best friend."

"you're so cute," a voice appears beside motoya, making him jump. osamu laughs. "sorry, didn't mean to scare you. here you go." he hands over a plate. some rice with some beef in a sauce.

motoya takes the plate happily, always excited to eat osamu's cooking. "nah, I'm just jumpy," motoya says, brushing osamu off.

motoya takes a bite of food and hums in pleasure as the flavors dance along his tongue. even something so simple can taste so good. it makes motoya a little jealous. his cooking skills extend to basic meals, mostly being able to heat up a frozen meal.

"that good?" osamu asks.

"I don't know how you do it," motoya mumbles, taking another bite. "but everything you make is heavenly," motoya finishes with a sigh.

osamu laughs, but when motoya sneaks a look over, he can sew a faint blush on osamu's cheeks.

motoya hesitates. he should ask osamu about cooking, right? why does this feel worse than a first date?

"what got you into cooking?" motoya asks. he watches osamu as he continues to eat, hoping that it was a good question to ask.

osamu lights up. "my ma always brought me and tsumu into the kitchen. she thought cooking was an important skill, and it turned into sort of a hobby for me. in high school is when I really started to cook on my own and try to experiment," osamu rambles with a smile on his face.

"oh yeah! suna's talked about how you would make lunches for him."

osamu flushes. "yeah, my crush wasn't subtle."

motoya giggles. "still took suna a while to notice, didn't it?"

osamu smiles. "it did."

they lapse into silence. osamu continues eating peacefully, a small smile on his face. motoya sets his plate down and let's his mind wander.

"what are... I mean, how do you feel about... me?" motoya asks. he keeps his eyes firmly on the tv, even as he feels osamu peering at him.

osamu hums, taking a moment to think.

"I think you're cute and I do like the time we spend together." heat rushes to motoya's face at the simple compliments. "I wouldn't mind getting to know you better or even date you. but I want to put the ball in your court. yknow? I never want to force you into something you don't want."

motoya takes a moment to think. he plays with a loose thread on the couch.

"can we?" motoya asks and meets osamu's eyes. "date. I mean."

osamu searches motoya's eyes and for a moment, motoya wonders if he shouldn't have asked. but osamu smiles, soft and warm like the smiles he gives to suna. warmth rushes through motoya's chest.

"I would love to, sweetie," osamu murmurs. he reaches out and takes motoya's hand.

motoya relaxes. "thank god. I was a little scared you hated me and thought I was ruining your relationship," motoya admits.

osamu laughs and wraps an arm around motoya's shoulders. "please. rin and I don't need any help ruining our relationship. besides, you're too adorable to hate."

motoya weakly pushes osamu's shoulder. "you're too much."

motoya smiles as osamu kisses his cheek.

why didn't he do this sooner?

[blackenedsnow]

haii!! can i please rq all the postal dudes with a s/o that knits and does a bit of sewing? like they come back from a long ass day and the s/o is like “leave your coat w me and ill patch it up”

the dude's with a s/o who knits and sews ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (1) Dude x Reader, Postal (2) Dude x Reader, Postal (3) Dude x Reader, Postal (4) Dude x Reader, Postal (BD) Dude x Reader, Postal (Movie) Dude x Reader

NOTE: Hi!! Thank you so much for this sweet and cozy request. I hope this is exactly what you were hoping for, and if you have more ideas, don’t hesitate to send them my way. Take care! <333

P1 DUDE

Dude isn’t used to acts of kindness, so when you offer to patch up his coat or knit him something, he’s taken aback.

He might act like it’s no big deal, but deep down, it means the world to him.

He doesn’t say much, but the way he watches you work—quietly, almost reverently—says it all.

If you knit him something, like a scarf or gloves, he’ll wear them every day, no matter how scrappy they might look.

It’s not about perfection; it’s about the fact that you made it for him.

“This is… warm. Thanks.”

He tries to return the favor in his own way, fixing things around the house or bringing you little things he thinks you’ll like (even if they’re…questionably acquired).

P2 DUDE

Dude is all about the practical side of things, so when you offer to sew up his coat, he’s thrilled.

“Oh, hell yeah. Do you know how much money I’ve saved not having to replace this thing?”

He’ll dramatically thank you as if you’ve just saved his life.

He’s fascinated by the knitting process and might even ask you to teach him, though he’s terrible at it.

Expect him to get tangled in yarn at least twice.

“This is harder than it looks. How do you do this?”

If you make him something, he’s overly proud of it and brags to everyone he sees.

P3 DUDE

He immediately starts teasing you, but it’s all in good fun.

“Aww, look at you, all domestic. What’s next, baking me cookies?”

Despite the jokes, he’s incredibly appreciative.

He doesn’t say it outright, but the way he hands you his coat without a second thought shows how much he trusts you.

He loves to sit with you while you work, throwing out silly commentary or asking if you can make him something ridiculous, like a sweater with his face on it.

“Hear me out: matching sweaters. We’d look awesome.”

If you actually knit him something, he’ll wear it proudly, even if it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever made.

He doesn’t care—it’s from you.

P4 DUDE

He is absolutely delighted when you offer to patch up his coat.

He’s been walking around with holes in it for way too long and never thought to ask for help.

“You’d really do that for me? Man, you’re the best.”

He’s endlessly fascinated by your sewing and knitting skills, often sitting nearby and watching you work with wide-eyed admiration.

If you knit him something, like a beanie or a pair of socks, he’s over the moon and wears them constantly.

“This is so comfy. Seriously, you should sell these or something.”

He’s not the best at showing gratitude with words, but he makes up for it with lots of hugs and little surprises to show how much he appreciates you.

BD DUDE

He's too tired to argue when you take his coat and tell him you’re fixing it.

He just nods and grunts, “Thanks,” before collapsing onto the couch.

He’s low-key amazed by your skill and watches you work in quiet fascination.

It’s one of the few things that can actually make him sit still and relax for a while.

"You’re good at that. Where’d you learn?”

If you knit him something, he’s incredibly touched, though he doesn’t make a big show of it.

He just starts wearing it without a word, and the small, genuine smile on his face says it all.

MOVIE DUDE

He's adorable about it.

When you offer to patch his coat, he gets all bashful and grins like a dork.

“Really? You’d do that? You’re too good to me.”

He loves to sit with you while you work, asking a million questions about what you’re doing and marveling at your skill.

If you knit him something, he’s beyond touched and can’t stop gushing about it.

He’s surprisingly thoughtful in return, often going out of his way to do little things for you, like making you coffee or running errands so you can focus on your projects.

[jarenka]

Hey so I don't know how aware you are of the youtube historical costuming scene BUT your recent post with Anakin in a bunch of cottagecore outfits (specifically the wrap shawl that looks like it's meant to be a modern take on a fichu) has me thinking that he would try to join in on the American Duchess Wrap Cape Challenge, in which case, do you think this man has any skill with a sewing machine? Or is he a "I can mend/patch it if there's damage to my clothes and that's good enough for me" kind of guy.

Bold of you to assume that Anakin sews these pretty clothes himself and doesn't have a best tailor on Naboo the sew them for him! 😁

Overall I think that Anakin was taught to mend his clothes in Jedi Order, so he can do that. Maybe he even can do this with sewing machine, if they are very common in GFFA. But I don't think he can sew his own clothes.

(Tbh my mind is already wandering in "crack treated seriously" direction. I don't believe that Anakin can seriously be a tradwife, but he can jokingly post about that in his space Instagram.

Let's imagine that in this AU Palpatine... Died in the beginning of III episode, during the "saving the chancellor" scene. Republic uncovered a lot of his machinations and soon they were able to start negotiations with Separatists. Padme was already pregnant, so Anakin left Jedi order to be with her. Tabloids went absolutely wild with headlines like "Shock! General Skywalker abandoned his successful military career to be senator Amidala's husband!" He actually spend first year or two as "househusband", because he needed to recover after the war, and he wanted to spend time with children and find what job he actually wants to take. Of course general public had no idea if he was taking additional engineering courses to get a job at the company he was interested, so everyone assumed that he just a Padme's husband now. So just out of spite Anakin started to make posts in his Instagram in this "I am baking bread and making jam for my family" style. He was sure that everyone would recognise it's just a joke, because everybody knew that Padme's family is rich and they have servants, nanny and droids. But netizens ate this shit up. That became even funnier when Anakin became a very successful engineer. So, for fellow engineers in his field he was like "oh, this guy, he invented this is this and everyone reads his articles in Galactic Journal of Engineering", but for average GFFA citizen he is a former Jedi and general who became senator Amidala's trophy husband).

Sorry for this long and overly serious answer for your question.