I saw this cool cat hoodie pattern@monsterrpixels made and wanted to do a rainbow variant. Might edit the sleeves some more but aside from that I dig it! (Fixed sleeves version in the notes)
If the original pattern maker is cool with it, I’ll post the able sisters download code for it when I unlock their shop XwX
she is not that evil, just give her a taste of your heart ♡( ◡‿◡ )
I loveeeeeeee
okay so I loved this so much I wrote a little drabble…
“There’s something,” slurs Sora before she suddenly stops talking, crowds him in the corner, small as she is. Looking up at him hard, has to bend her neck nearly all the way back to do it, too. “On your face,” she finishes. A whole two minutes later. It’d been an awkward silence.
Yamato considers moving to the side, politely giving her space, would have, too, if he didn’t notice the wobbly step she took and stayed, hovering close, just in case she needed support on her feet. Mini skirt riding up. Thigh high leggings that went on for miles. Could keep following them down but knows not to, so doesn’t. Kind of wishes the other drunk bar goers would know not to, too. It’d been hard, subtly trying to place himself between her and the more aggressive advances. Twice he’d had to swipe a drink someone bought her right out of her hands before she could take a sip. He hates Halloween.
“You need a seat?” he offers, clears his throat, keeps his distance. Gallant. Doesn’t buy into stereotypes, even if he likes leather jackets and skinny jeans and black nail polish and garage records and low riders. Cool and unbothered, most of the time. Except now. Definitely bothered. Definitely uncool. Feels like his ears are going to burn off, with the way she’s still staring at him. Her eyes are really pretty. Stop. Look away, look away. No, not down!
The plastic red horns she wears tip as she shakes her head. Mimi says she’s a devil, Taichi says she’s a demon. Hikari says her little red wings, matching the shade of her horn headband, makes her a fallen angel. Koushiro had just said she looked nice, which Yamato finds to be the understatement of the century. Jou warns him she’s a bad drunk, as in bad at being drunk. Bolder. No filter. Out of her element. As the designated responsible one for the night, he’d been charged with making sure everyone’s okay, not that he wouldn’t have been anyway. But he’d been keeping an eye on her. Er, looking out for her, that is, tonight especially. Kind of hard not to notice her, even if she doesn’t think that about herself, shrinks herself down so others can shine instead. But he notices. First, and usually only. Any room she’s in. Her eyes are really, really pretty. Right now, they’re wide open, fireborn. She could burn him and he’d say thank you. Maybe even a please and more and a yes ma'am, but he shuts that part of his brain down fast. Sora’s his friend. That, he can’t lose.
The bar is noisy and she comes closer and he curses in his head, alarms going off. “I said,” she’s shouting now, usual internal social etiquette regulator completely abandoned. Wow, she really is drunk, Jou hadn’t been joking, “you’ve got something on your face.”
He doesn’t. He’d refused to dress up, hasn’t for years. The bar required costumes, though, so Takeru had wrestled the stupid wolf ear headband on him as he’d walked out the door. Told him he’d cry if he took it off. Really doesn’t put it past his younger brother to wheel out the waterworks. Everyone thinks Takeru’s a well-meaning sweetheart, but Yamato knows better.
He points to the ears. “I’m a wolf.” Immediately hears how lame it sounds and wants to sink into the floor. Disappear forever. Never show his face around her again. Wolf ears? Seriously? He’s going to kill Takeru.
“No, you’re not.”
Yamato knows how to argue with very drunk people, especially friends. There’s a fine art to it, to avoid bad decisions and keep everyone in check long enough to survive intact until morning. He’d accepted that this is to be his fate tonight. He’d already had to argue Taichi out of getting a piercing (Taichi’d refused to say where, just dropped suggestive hints), and Mimi from trying to pay everyone’s bar tab with her dad’s emergency credit card. Koushiro’d been bribed with a small mountain of salty snacks to not try to fix the bartender’s register (which wasn’t broken); Jou, he’d finally convinced to share the karaoke mic with promises to rent a booth just for their friend group next weekend. (Under no circumstances was Yamato going to repeat this promise once Jou’d sobered up, or admit it was ever made.) Submitting without putting up a fight in an argument with Sora dressed in dominatrix black was something he’d always thought about — no.
“Okay,” he says instead.
“You’re Yamato.”
This is true. “Okay.”
Why is he so lame. He swears he knows more words than ‘Okay’. Can’t think of any when she’s standing in front of him in a skin tight bodycon dress that spells out more curves than he’d ever dared dream, but he’s positive he knows at least ten more words. Maybe even twenty. Hopes no one asks him to prove it. His head is so empty, and he hasn’t had a single sip of anything. Just her, looking at him like this.
“You’re Yamato, and you never need to pretend.”
She’s so close now he can smell her perfume. She’d traded her usual jasmine white tea scent for a spicy rosewood. Maybe Givenchy’s Ange ou Démon. It’d certainly fit her look — stop. He absolutely should not know these details. Maybe he’s the creep he should be shielding her from.
She’s peering up at him, swaying a little. “What’s that like?”
He focuses on her. “Being…myself?”
Sora nods, voice so soft. Vulnerable. More alarms are going off in his head, a different kind. “Yeah.”
Yamato doesn’t think he is, not all the time. Even he has expectations he puts on himself. All he wants is to know who he is, so he can be the person his friends need, and deserve. It’s work. A lot of it. But it matters, so work at it, he does.
He’s honest. “Not easy.”
Her eyes take on a shine that makes his stomach drop. No, please don’t cry. Please don’t let me have made you cry. Not you.
“That’s why I like you.”
Oh.
“Huh?”
He wants to smack himself. Does he really not know any real, adult human words?
“I mean — ,”
“I like you that you know yourself.” She breaks into a smile. Disarms him completely. Knows she’s not going to remember any of this tomorrow. “I’d like to know myself like that.”
Say it. Use your words. Use all the words.
“I'dliketoknowyoutoo.”
And the world hasn’t stopped, the axis still spins on. The earth hasn’t swallowed him whole, the sky still hangs above him. He hasn’t woken up. It’s a not dream.
But still, she just stares, unblinking. Her words repeat with utter disinterest. “There’s something on your face.”
Oh.
Maybe he’d said it in his head instead? Not aloud?
Sora slips one hand into his, touches his arm with the other.
Oh.
All right, something’s waking up.
She smiles, shy and devilish, all at once. Sees right through him with those really, really, reallypretty eyes. Pokes a finger into his cheek. Dimples his blushing red face. “There it is.”
I absolutely headcanon that the core of their interest in one another is how each believes the other to be so true to themselves in ways they personally envy, not realizing really that they’re already there. these two are such poetic complements. I love their emotional arcs!
thanks again for the art and the inspiration :D
MISS@piedrpiper IS TODAY MY BIRTDAY AND I WASN’T AWARE OF IT???
I never thought, that I could inspire someome to draw or write something, and I’m have been left without words to express how happy and gratefull I am, and I’m also grateful, to have find this small space of the fandom with this amazing and kind friends.
I have read this like ten times and I am not exaggerating. I even cried a little. lol
everything fits them perfectly everything about this screams their names. I have no words. Yamato triying NOT TO LOOK AT HER AND AT THE SAME TIME WANTING TO JUST SUBMIT. Sora being playful and a little wicked when she is drunk . WHY THIS IS SO GOOD!?
I loved how he was being so honest with himself, even when he knows thet she is drunk and that she will not remember any of this the next day. Sora being a bad drunk is the only drunk Sora I can imagine any universe, in this case alcohol helped her so say some of the things she have on her mind to him, and Yamato just lose the battle without putting up a fight. I strongly belive that one of the reason why they could say all this loud is because they give each other this feeling of “no matter what happen you are safe with me”, “I can be honest honest with you because you are going to accept me for who I am” this are some of the things that come to my mind when I think about these two, and I see all of these things reflected in this drabble, I can’t express what Im feeling with words. The way you created all this amazing atmosphere *chef kiss* everything about Sora and Yamato is so soft, they are just two cinnamon rolls. (thanks for supporting me in the whole “takeru being a little shit” thing)
And also, thank you for always supporting my work, I really put a lot of myself in each one of this drawings and it makes me really happy that people enjoys them, I hope that in the future I can keep making people happy.
Also please go to pied piper AO3 page and to her Tumblr page you wont regret it.
Finally finished part of my collaboration with @juricha-art, yayyy. This is a crossover between Princess Tutu and Gwendolyn and Oswald (Odin Sphere). My spinal column doesn’t feel really well :’)))). I’m still working on improving my art, so I’d really happy to see your comments, thank you
Here is my piece to commemorate the Empires finale! I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head for ages and I’m excited to finally show you I loved all of season one, so hype to see what the next has in store! I can’t wait to get painting ✨
Thank you to the lovely @1diamondinthesun tagging me to share a snippet of my fic. The snippet is from my fic for the @1dcountryfanficfest. And it writes as fast as country life… at snail pace. I started all over again with the fic, because I wasn’t satisfied with the way the other story was going. So here it is, my snippet!
“Hello darling,” a woman in her fifties says as she drapes her arm around Harry
“Hello, mum.” Harry hugs his mother and kisses her on the cheek.
“How are you holding up, darling?” She asks.
“I’m okay.” He reassures her. His mother, Anne Twist, is still a beautiful woman in her fifties; beautiful and sweet. Harry’s loves her with all his heart. He admires his mother who has lost her second husband Robin a few years ago, but, even though she still misses him a lot, has picked up her life again and enjoys herself as much as she can. Anne turns to Louis.
I will tag back @1diamondinthesun : she offered to look over my fic for the fest, my own countrypicker (does that even exist?) How sweet is that! You’re the best!
And since I have no clue who’s writing at the moment I’ll tag @kingsofeverything to share a snippet of the cowboy fic! And @lululawrence @fallinglikethis@allwaswell16@chloehl10@all-these-larrythings to give us a snippet on Monday!
Some stikers I’ve made for this storywhere our dear Hooks are cursed for the night and turn into different monsters :p (i might put them on RB if you guys are interested)
