#Handmade Paper silk

[kalpanahandmadepaper]

Silk Paper: A Symphony of Elegance, Craftsmanship, and Sustainability

Silk paper, a delicate and exquisite medium, is a testament to the marriage of nature’s bounty and human ingenuity. In this comprehensive exploration, we delve into the world of handmade silk paper, unravelling its myriad facets such as craftsmanship, eco-friendliness, luxurious textures, and sustainable practices. From the artisanal touch of handcrafting to the ecological consciousness embedded…

[theloverstomb]

‘Fragile Microbiomes’ by bio-artist Anna Dumitriu

1. SYPHILIS DRESS- This dress is embroidered with images of the corkscrew-shaped bacterium which causes the sexually transmitted disease syphilis. These embroideries are impregnated with the sterilised DNA of the Nichols strain of the bacterium - Treponema pallidum subsp. pallidum - which Dumitriu extracted with her collaborators.

2. MICROBE MOUTH- The tooth at the centre of this necklace was grown in the lab using an extremophile bacterium which is part of the species called Serratia (Serratia N14) that can produce hydroxyapatite, the same substance that tooth enamel is made from.

The handmade porcelain teeth that make up this necklace have been coated with glazes derived from various bacterial species that live in our mouths and cause tooth decay and gum disease, including Porphyromonas gingivalis, which can introduce an iron-containing light brown stain to the glaze.

3. TEETH MARKS: THE MOST PROFOUND MYSTERY- In his 1845 essay “On Artificial Teeth”, W.H. Mortimer described false teeth as “the most profound mystery” because they were never discussed. Instead, people would hide the stigma of bad teeth and foul breath using fans.

This altered antique fan is made from animal bone and has been mended with gold wire, both materials historically used to construct false teeth (which would also sometimes incorporate human teeth). The silk of the fan and ribbon has been grown and patterned with two species of oral pathogens: Prevotella intermedia and Porphyromonas gingivalis. These bacteria cause gum disease and bad breath, and the latter has also recently been linked to Alzheimer’s disease.

4. PLAGUE DRESS- This 1665-style 'Plague Dress' is made from raw silk, hand-dyed with walnut husks in reference to the famous herbalist of the era Nicholas Culpeper, who recommended walnuts as a treatment for plague. It has been appliquéd with original 17th-century embroideries, impregnated with the DNA of Yersinia pestis bacteria (plague). The artist extracted this from killed bacteria in the laboratory of the National Collection of Type Cultures at the UK Health Security Agency.

The dress is stuffed and surrounded by lavender, which people carried during the Great Plague of London to cover the stench of infection and to prevent the disease, which was believed to be caused by 'bad air' or 'miasmas'. The silk of the dress references the Silk Road, a key vector for the spread of plague.

5. BACTERIAL BAPTISM- based on a vintage christening gown which has been altered by the artist to tell the story of research into how the microbiomes of babies develop, with a focus on the bacterium Clostridioides difficile, originally discovered by Hall and O’Toole in 1935 and presented in their paper “Intestinal flora in new-born infants”. It was named Bacillus difficilis because it was difficult to grow, and in the 1970s it was recognised as causing conditions from mild antibiotic-associated diarrhoea to life-threatening intestinal inflammation. The embroidery silk is dyed using stains used in the study of the gut microbiome and the gown is decorated with hand-crocheted linen lace grown in lab with (sterilised) C. difficile biofilms. The piece also considers how new-borns become colonised by bacteria during birth in what has been described as ‘bacterial baptism’.

6. ZENEXTON- Around 1570, Swiss physician and alchemist Theophrastus Paracelsus coined the term ‘Zenexton’, meaning an amulet worn around the neck to protect from the plague. Until then, amulets had a more general purpose of warding off (unspecified) disease, rather like the difference today between ‘broad spectrum’ antibiotics and antibiotics informed by genomics approaches which target a specific organism.

Over the next century, several ideas were put forward as to what this amulet might contain: a paste made of powdered toads, sapphires that would turn black when they leeched the pestilence from the body, or menstrual blood. Bizarre improvements were later made: “of course, the toad should be finely powdered”; “the menstrual blood from a virgin”; “collected on a full moon”.

This very modern Zenexton has been 3D printed and offers the wearer something that genuinely protects: the recently developed vaccine against Yersinia pestis, the bacterium that causes plague.

[zhalfirin]

The Crown of the Summer Court - Astolat

This is the second book I made for Renegade Guild's Tiny Books Bang event.

Typeset provided by merlinmausi.

Cork veneer half-binding with inset thaumatrope. (not sure it qualifies as a 'half-binding', because it actually is one piece of cork veneer... with huge cut outs.)

And if you're wondering what a thaumatrope is... it's an optical toy. On a disk are 2 separate pictures on each side. Strings are attached to the sides of the disk and when twirling the strings, the pictures seem to merge into one.

Materials used

case construction cover - layered grey board and cardboard and inset magnet spine stiffener - cardboard covering material - handmade paste papers, cork veneer title - gold foiled onlays - paper, laser printed

thaumatrope grey board with inset magnet, covered with laser printed paper cords - braided sewing thread

inner book book body - Schleipen Fly 05, 115gsm endpapers - lokta paper endbands - button hole silk

Size ~ A7 (7,2cm x 10,5cm)

[snek-panini]

Today I've got binderary book #3 to share! It's a lighthouse (burning) by books-and-omens. This is a really excellent canonverse (sort of) historical setting liminal ghost story-esque fic that I read practically in one sitting sometime last summer. It's fantastic, well-characterized, angsty and fluffy and fairly plotty and with some really unique worldbuilding. I honestly can't sing its praises enough; it's one of the only times since taking up this hobby that I've known I wanted to bind something before I actually finished reading it.

Have a look at the rest of the photos under the cut; this one came out really well and I'm in love with it.

For this cover we have lineco book cloth on the spine, a strip of chiyogami paper that I got in one one ChibiJay's random paper packs, and blue-gray sketch paper for the primary gray space. It's a little hard to tell in the photos but the HTV for the titles is in two different colors, silver for "a lighthouse" and pewter for "(burning)". The effect is more pronounced in person and I love it. The pewter came in a multi-pack of cricut foil HTV and I can't seem to find it on its own anywhere, which is a shame because it's beautiful. The sort of streaky effect on the cover was unintentional but I'm kinda liking it? It's a more porous paper for drawing or painting or something, and I tried to wax it for waterproofing, but when I used the heat press to get the title on the wax darkened in the spots where the glue was applied to the cover board. At first I was disappointed, but the fic features a really massive unnatural storm, and it sort of looks like water running down a windowpane, so I'm leaning into that and calling it an aesthetic. The back didn't get this heat treatment, so it doesn't have the pattern.

Top view, showing the bookmark and handmade end bands. The bookmark is a navy blue ribbon cut from the inside of a shirt, and I chose red and white because there are so many picturesque lighthouses that have red and white stripes. It's the only color in the book that's not blue or gray. The endpapers are a navy blue silk moire, and I had better luck with them than I did with the platinum ones on my Persuasion bind even though they are the same brand. Maybe it's practice or maybe navy just hides more sins than platinum.

For the title page I went fairly simple (for me anyway) with just a frame I pulled from rawpixel. It suits the story, though, being set sometime around or before the early 20th century. I also played with text colors on the title page, with some words being grayed out to mimic the effect on the cover. The section break is me getting clever with a feature of my printer. I often use a gray line to denote section breaks, but for whatever reason my printer doesn't like them and often makes them blurry. It is only these lines that come out blurry; larger images don't do this even if they are complex. So for this one, where a major feature of the story is trying to figure out what's real and what's a supernatural occurrence, I made one that was deliberately heavier in the center so it would come out sort of smoky or fuzzy, like it wasn't quite real and couldn't be clearly seen. It doesn't look this fuzzy in the unprinted file but I love the effect and I feel very clever for manipulating the printer like this.

I'm going to show off some interior shots but this bit contains spoilers for the story, so if you don't want to see that then maybe skip the rest of the post.

I wanted to get creative with my title placement since a lot of my binds look very similar inside, and this concept really let me try that out. The plot of the story is that the reason there are so many supernatural phenomena at this lighthouse is that someone in the future ran an experiment to harvest energy and accidentally cracked spacetime with it, and bits of the future and the past and the might-have-been are seeping through the cracks, and the longer the cracks exist the more seeps through them and the worse the ghostly stuff gets. At first it's not clear whether there's anything weird happening at all, and it becomes clearer that something is wrong the further in you get because the cracks are worse. So I had this idea for a vintage lighthouse illustration with an overlay of cracks in glass, that become more defined as the story progresses until something is done and they're sealed up in the end. I am not a visual artist and even this straightforward concept was too much for my skills, so I chose the lighthouse and the crack overlay and my amazing husband did the actual image manipulation. There are five different images, with the cracks invisible in the first and final chapter and most visible in chapter 10 and 11, when the characters are trying hardest to fix the problem. I'm really really proud of how well this turned out.

And that's it! I have several more binderary books to post but they are all still waiting for titles before I do the photos, so I don't know when I'll have them up.

[strawbby-shortcake]

"Welcome, what would you like?" ✰ X GN READER! ✰

[♡ Marla, Tyler, and Jack order at a cafe you work at. ♡]

✧.* Marla ✧.*

You never expected to receive any customers since it was an awfully slow day. The cafe was dimly lit with a few chairs and a table in one corner, and a broken record player in the other. You stood around fiddling with one of the bleached coffee filters until the door chimed and a sliver of sunlight creeped into the building for a split second.

A skinny, disheveled woman walked up to the counter and glanced at the menu, then you, then the menu again, and then back to you.

"Hello, what would you like?" you asked, giving her a small smile.

She took a long drag of her cigarette while looking around the cafe. You noticed that she had messy, black hair, slept-in makeup, and a silk night gown of sorts on.

"Something dark, like my soul," she said with a scratchy voice. Probably from the smoking, you guessed.

You simply nodded at the woman and grabbed a cup and a marker.

"Your name?"

"Why the hell do you need my name? It's emptier in here than it is on Paper Street at midnight," she croaked.

You stared at her, your eyebags mirroring hers, and didn't respond.

"Marla. Marla Singer."

You wrote her name on the cup in thick, black letters. Getting her order correct wouldn't be a hard task at all. You brewed a fresh cup of the strongest coffee you could find and gave it to her.

She glanced at your handwriting on the cup. "I'm not paying for this, but here," she said as she laid a torn piece of paper and two quarters on the counter. "...thanks," you responded, grabbing the items and pocketing them.

Marla hurried out of the cafe like an alley cat, not glancing back at you even once.

✰ ✰ ✰ Tyler ✰ ✰ ✰

The record player in the cafe was attempting to play a Pixies vinyl, but it was so scratched up that it sounded more like nails on a chalkboard that it did music. A few customers came and went, the usual cappuccino or grande latte.

The bell that was tied loosely onto the door handle chimed and fell with a sad clank as a tall, nicely-tanned man walked in. He didn't even bother picking up the bell. The man strolled and leaned over with one elbow resting on the countertop and the other on his waist.

Upon closer inspection, he had multiple cuts and bruises on his face and mid-section (which was clearly visible since he was wearing a crop top). Was he even wearing underwear? You didn't ask questions, because frankly, you don't get paid enough to.

He slid his red glasses to the tip of his nose and stared into your eyes. He had a faint black eye. Maybe from fighting, or falling down the stairs.

"Hello, what would you like?"

The man gave you a wide grin, but you noticed there was dried blood on his lips.

"Just your heart, gorgeous," he said with a wink.

You looked at him and furrowed your eyebrows. Who even is this guy?

"Yeah, not happening," you said.

He clicked his tongue and placed both hands on the counter, looming over you.

"You sure I can't convince you?" he whispered lowly.

He leaned in and parted his lips, causing you to place a muffin into his mouth. He jolted in surprise and looked bewildered.

The man scoffed and made his way out of the cafe. He took the muffin with him though. He threw a card onto the floor and kicked the door open with his foot.

After he was no longer in sight, you went over and picked the card off the floor. It was a business card that said: "Paper Street Soap Co. All Natural. Handmade. (288) 555-0153. Tyler Durden. 537 Paper Street • Bradford • 19808."

"Tyler Durden." Interesting.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Jack (The Narrator) ੈ✩‧₊˚

A man dressed in a suit and black shades has been sitting in the cafe for the whole afternoon. Not once has he gotten up to order anything. He just sits there reading his newspaper, sometimes dozing off for a few minutes, or mumbling about some club.

You decide to walk up to him and make small talk, or at least offer him a coffee. There was no one else here, so you didn't see the harm in letting him stay a little longer.

"Hello," you said as you stood in front of the table he was sitting at.

The man looked up at you, acknowledged your presence with a "hmm," and went back to reading his paper.

"Do you want any coffee or anything? What would you like?" you tried again.

The man placed his newspaper on the table firmly and stared at you menacingly. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept for days, some light stubble, and a mole on the bottom of his right cheek.

You stepped back from the table and shrugged.

"Oh well, I tried," you sighed.

The man got up and left his newspaper behind. He left the cafe with a low "see you."

You grabbed the newspaper and noticed a "HELLO my name is: JACK" label that was stuck onto one of the pages. You kept the newspaper in case he ever came back again.

[END]

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

last christmas, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Last Christmas, she gave you her heart, wrapped up with a note saying, I love you. She meant it. This Christmas, you give her back the stuff she left at your place and run into her next-door neighbor that knew all about your love. Somehow, you end up explaining why it went wrong.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of previous w/w relationship; pansexual reader; mentions of bad parents and discrimination / prejudice; reader def needs a therapist and Jeon Jungkook is not a therapist; JK is also reader's ex-gf's next-door neighbor; pining; awk tension; I cannot shut up about JK's big peepers; smut (fem reader, a lot of making out [both lips and bodies], light scratching, so much grinding, cowgirl); motorcycle-owning!JK takes you on a ride, whee

inspired by Wham!'s 'Last Christmas'; you are the shitty ex, don't read this unless you're okay with that and, yes, some decisions are made

--

You handed the bag over.

“This is it.”

“T… Thanks.”

The cold stung your cheeks. Around your neck was a dark green and black plaid scarf, thick layers shielding your heart that was exposed to the winter thanks to your open parka. Your hands returned to their tucked position in your fleece-lined pockets. You smiled, ever so slightly.

“You look pretty. The short hair suits your face well.”

She reached up to touch the tips of the chin-length bob, wispy front bangs framing her gentle eyes, not quite looking at you. You noticed her short nails were painted a light shimmery gold, suiting the holiday season. Her lips pursed and she breathed in deeply, looking straight into your eyes.

“Don’t say stuff like that. We’re not together anymore,” she said decisively.

“Ah… right.”

You left the smile on your face.

Right, because you could no longer compliment a person after dating them and then breaking up with them. Rules of some code apparently you didn’t get the memo for. The breeze whipped around your body, chilling moments as you stood at the doorstep of your former lover, feeling a strange kind of satisfaction seeing in her shiver in her fuzzy cream sweater and fleece pajama pants, complete with ivory fur slippers. But those thoughts were cruel to think and so was the bitterness.

She glanced at you.

You felt bad, seeing the glisten in her eyes.

In a box labelled donations in your apartment, there was a knit scarf, checkered peach and cream, the note included long gone, probably in a trashcan. Last Christmas, that scarf had been in silvery wrapping paper with a white silk ribbon, the package shaking in her hands and accompanied by a nervous smile, handed over for you to open, seeing the note first and then the handmade gift.

I love you above the handiwork of love.

It wasn’t the very next day, but you were still giving it away.

“I hope you have a nice holiday,” you said, bowing lightly.

“A-Ah, yeah,” she stuttered, clutching the brown bag of the few sweaters and joggers she had left at your apartment, all laundered and folded neatly the way she usually folded them. You had remembered, and this would be the last time you needed to remember how to delicately tuck sweaters into themselves like cake rolls. “I’m going to see my mom and dad. You should…” And she trailed off, knowing full well you weren’t going to see your parents. “You should eat something nice.”

You nodded.

Smile.

“I will. Take care.”

You took a step back and bowed again, taking your graceful exit from the front porch of that apartment that you would never walk into again.

You headed for the stairs, being careful when it came to the snow-slicked stone steps. Good thing your black boots had sturdy, thick treads. You reached back and pulled the hood of your parka up, fleece blanketing your head and ears, instantly warming your cold hair. It was already getting dark. You barely saw the sun these days, with work and all. There was something nice about the winter evening though, not as thick as the humid summer nights. Crisp and chilly, sure, but maybe you could argue that was all you were anyway.

Shit, holding a pity party for yourself? That’s rich.

The voice was inner self-loathing was nice and loud tonight, huh.

You heard your name being called from the garage at the bottom of the stairs. You looked up to see a familiar resident of these apartments.

Your ex-girlfriend’s next-door neighbor, in fact.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He smiled and waved, jogging over, something large and round under his arm. Black leather jacket, his gloves matching his jacket. Black jeans. Heavy-duty boots. You took a couple steps towards him, and then you spied the parked motorcycle, and finally recognizing that it was a motorcycle helmet he was holding. The sweater underneath with the somewhat tacky, bright red-and-white candy cane print didn’t quite match the rest of his ensemble.

He looked down when he realized you were staring at his chest and laughed. “Ah, yeah, I came back from a work party. Christmas lunch before we go on break. Theme was ugly sweaters.”

You blinked. “You could have tried harder.”

He grinned. “Yeah, my co-worker Jimin said that too, but I told him he was ugly enough for us both.”

You shook your head with a sheepish smile as the young man looked way too proud of himself burning someone who wasn’t even here to defend themselves. Well, supposedly he burned them publicly already. Poor Jimin. You had never met this Park Jimin Jungkook occasionally talked about, but they seemed to have a brotherly friendship, complete with Jungkook providing shithead younger brother quips.

“I haven’t seen you around lately,” Jungkook said, tilting his head.

Oh. Right.

You pointed up and prepared yourself to say it again and again until everyone knew.

“We broke up.”

“Oh…” His expression fell, big round brown eyes and the downturn of his lips. Man, Jeon Jungkook looking sad was not something you realized you needed to brace yourself for until now. It almost made you sad seeing his expression. “I’m sorry to hear that. I liked watching movies with you two, since you like Marvel stuff.”

You chuckled. “I’m not banned from going to the theater. I can still go to opening nights with you, if you want.”

He scratched his cheek, nodding slowly. “She wouldn’t feel weird seeing you with me?” he asked.

Oh.

Right.

If it was only you and Jeon Jungkook going to the movies, then, of course, people would think certain things.

You answered him honestly.

“I don’t know.”

You didn’t need to give answers, but Jungkook was your ex’s next-door neighbor and you had made friends with the guy before she did. Would be odd, considering she had proximity on her side, but, as it turns out, she was the lesbian and you were the pansexual. She had other priorities than the man living next door. He was not that interesting to her.

You shrugged. “I don’t know how she would feel, but what’s done is done and life goes on.”

Jungkook blinked at you.

You puffed out your left cheek and then exhaled heavily. “As you can expect from my reaction, it was me who broke up with her.” You clicked your tongue. “It wasn’t her. It was me. I have issues when women try to take care of me, even if they only have good intentions.” You reached up and pushed your parka hood back, letting the cold wind pierce your skin again, eager to feel something else. “Doesn’t really happen to me when it’s men, but women? Hah... I tried to tell myself that that wasn’t it, but facts are facts. In the end, I didn’t like her anymore and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.”

Sounded awful coming out of your mouth.

Truth was ugly.

“I thought I would feel like shit not being with her during Christmas, but actually I feel worse because I’m actually glad I’m out.”

You glanced at Jungkook, whose was staring at you with those big brown eyes. For his part, he simply accepted when you introduced his neighbor as your girlfriend back then. Didn’t pry much. It had come up in conversation about representation in movies, and you both clarified your sexualities. Jungkook’s reaction was, oh, cool. But, of course, you hadn’t specified about the differences of various romantic relationships for you personally, until now.

You winced. “Sorry. Kinda dumped all that on you.”

He shook his head quickly, his long black hair flying about like floppy puppy ears. “No, no. It’s okay. Have you talked to anyone about the breakup?” He held up his free hand, pulling it back a little. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. It’s just… I mean, I knew you two a little bit, so… I can listen, if you wanna say stuff.”

You opened your mouth, ready to say, yeah, I’ve talked about it, but then you realized, no, you haven’t talked to anyone about the breakup. You didn’t really have friends outside of the ones related to your previous relationship, and, well, he was standing right here. You certainly weren’t going to tell your parents about dating, least of all dating outside of the heteronormative. They already didn’t like you for various reasons and being anything but heterosexual was probably going to lead to full-on pitchforks and chasing. Not your idea of a fun Christmas, you had to admit.

Mostly because you were the one that had to do the outrunning.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his head, screwing up his face. “Uh, well, a friend much smarter than me told me once that good and bad is relative to who you’re talking to and that most of the time no one is good or bad because there are too many ways to judge.” As he spoke, his eyebrows became more knitted together in increasing confusion of unsure recollection. “Um. Something like that.”

You half-smiled. “Hm, ever considered becoming a therapist?”

Jungkook frowned, looking displeased. “Sounds complicated.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry. You would totally suck at it.”

He harrumphed. “Anyway,” he concluded gruffly, chopping the air, his Busan accent coming out with the flourishment. “I’m saying you don’t have to be sad or feel anything in particular.”

You nodded.

Awkward silence.

Jungkook suddenly perked up and pointed to his bike behind him. “Oh! Did I tell you? I got my motorcycle license over a month ago.”

No, he didn’t tell you, because at the point you had already broken up with your now-ex and stopped coming to this apartment complex. But you glossed over that detail and shook you head, cocking your chin to the metal monster. “Yours?”

He grinned, bouncing like the Energizer bunny. “Yup! Mine! I bought it as soon as I got my license. I always wanted one. Want a ride? I have an extra helmet upstairs.” He pointed up excitedly. “It’ll only take me a second to grab it.”

He knew you didn’t drive here and usually walked here from the train station because it was easier. You looked at the silver and black motorcycle and then back at him, seeing the bubbling eagerness and childlike joy in those sparkly big peepers. What the hell.

“Sure.”

He grinned.

You always liked Jungkook because he had such an expressive face.

He hurried past you and reached out to nudge your arm towards to the stairs. You stood steadfast, your head following his face as you saw his changing expression.

Time slowed.

So did Jungkook, stopping, standing beside you, his motorcycle helmet and arm in between your bodies.

You looked up at him.

Eyes connected.

Your hands lifted and you took his motorcycle helmet from him, ticking your head upstairs.

“I shouldn’t go back up there,” you softly said.

For a moment, he didn’t understand. You knew what he intended, you to follow him up to help carry the extra helmet so he had a hand free to lock the door again. But he hadn’t quite thought about why you were here in the first place, days away from Christmas, after months of not seeing you, and now the comprehension was creeping into his eyes, the wheels of his brain moving in real time right in front of you. You nodded slowly as his lips formed a small ‘o’ accompanied by quick, sharp nods as he bounded up the stone steps two at a time.

“I’ll be fast!”

“Don’t break a leg,” you scolded, rolling your eyes as he completely ignored you, but he held onto the railing, so at least he wouldn’t tumble down and squash you if he tripped.

That left you standing there in relative silence, holding Jeon Jungkook’s helmet and staring at his fairly new motorcycle, only a couple floors underneath your ex-girlfriend who you recently gave back all her things that she had left in your home, the only trace of her now being your memories that would fade in time.

You felt a bit weird, not minding too much about it.

Also felt a bit weird realizing in a few minutes you would be holding onto her next-door neighbor’s waist, your chest to his broad back.

I’m an asshole.

You sighed, remembering the apprehension you had felt embarking on this relationship. Maybe you should have listened to it, but, then again, hard to say. No one wants to believe they have issues. Also, she was quite cute and convincing at the time. Unlike in past relationships, she was already secure and didn’t make you feel ashamed about not being strictly lesbian or heterosexual. It made you think that this was right, this was how it should be, and then it started getting a little too serious.

You kept thinking, I’ll get over it.

You did not get over it.

Then you realized what you really meant was, I must get over it to prove that my shitty upbringing didn’t affect me but all I’m doing is pretending that I’m over it when I’m not.

Yeah, well.

You ended up breaking up with a nice, pretty girl that you weren’t really in love with. She had just made you feel secure because she actually accepted your sexuality, which was awesome but not enough.

So, why did you feel like a complete and total jerk, like you wasted her time, as if you weren’t worthy of it?

Don’t know.

You stared at the motorcycle in front of you.

He must feel free when riding it.

“I got the helmet!”

You didn’t even turn around when you heard Jungkook’s announcement. You were too busy transitioning out of your reflections. “Don’t you know motorcycle accidents are much more likely than car accidents?”

Jungkook popped into view, holding out the other helmet in his hands. You exchanged the one you were carrying with his, and he shrugged. “Everybody dies.”

“Morbid.”

“At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid,” he pointed out, revealing a bit of his inked skin under his leather sleeve. “Same reason I got tattoos.”

“Bet your mom loves that.”

“My mom just has to love my personality,” he laughed. “And I got defiance from her, so she’s doomed.”

You shook you head with a smile. Jungkook showed you how to put the helmet on.

“Just stay safe.”

“Don’t you mean drive safe?”

“It’s not just you on the road, dude.”

Suddenly, his hands stopped moving after you put it on. Now you were staring at Jungkook through the opening, about to close the visor, but then those brown orbs found yours. There was a strange intangible ripple between you and him. He tilted his head.

“Why are you talking as if you’re not here about to get on the bike with me?”

Everybody dies.

You pointed to the helmet. It felt heavy and odd. You were unaccustomed to the tightness. It smelled clean though. “I am. Why else would I put this thing on?”

Maybe I’m already dead because I don’t feel bad about what I did.

You wondered if you should feel bad, even though you did the right thing, even though you knew there were no real villains and heroes in this situation, even though you knew you both were only people that chose how to live their lives. How were you supposed to know if you were dragging things on or running away? The only thing you knew was that she deserved someone who really loved her as much as she loved you. It wasn’t her fault you didn’t. You just had to be honest about it.

Right?

Jungkook nodded and stuck on his helmet, fitting it snugly and climbed onto the motorcycle, unlocking it as signaling you to get on behind him.

“Hold onto me here. Set your feet there. Yeah.”

He was warm and solid and present.

He even smelled nice.

You didn’t think about it too much. What was there to think about? Life was complicated. You could spend countless hours analyzing why you made certain decisions, if they were wrong or right and in which eyes that mattered, and then all those thoughts blew away when the mechanical monster underneath you roared to life, loud and vicious and pure power wielded with skillful hands, and you held on tighter to Jungkook, startled by the sound, yet not scared for some reason.

Just fascinated as Jungkook pulled out of his parking spot and zoomed out of the garage, onto the road.

It was fuckin’ cold.

Layers of green-and-black plaid between Jungkook’s back and your sweater, shielding your racing heart, wind and speed and thrill shooting throughout your veins, the winter night flashing past, blurring streetlamps and stoplights, forgetting the cold, your hands tucked inside Jungkook’s jacket, fingers fanning over his waist and ribcage, feeling his muscles under the tacky sweater.

You closed your eyes.

At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid.

You used to think about riding a motorcycle when you were in middle school, although you had been looking at those smaller, zippy Japanese models, not a Harley-Davidson. You always assumed only loud obnoxious Americans rode that kind of stuff.

What?

Movies didn’t help.

Unfair stereotypes aside, it had been only a passing thought for you. One among many rebellious teenage desires. Cringe. That was hard to admit. But apparently for Jungkook it was a dream that he had turned into a reality and, while someone could view it in whatever negative light they wished, you saw it as walking the walk. You could respect that.

You leaned against him.

Felt the cold but there was something hot under layers of green-and-black plaid.

This is what joyride means, huh?

You were slowing down. Opened your eyes and saw Jungkook turning, seeing a parking lot and, across that, a field of white covered in a walkway of colorful lights. Oh. That was right. The park over here had put up this light display called Festival of Lights, where local artists had created wire sculptures covered in Christmas string lights which were displayed along a walkable path.

You went her last year, holding her hand.

You got off and took off your helmet, entranced by the bright twinkling displays, barely making out a gingerbread man doing a handstand.

“Wanna walk?”

You glanced at Jungkook. “What about this? Should I carry it?”

He laughed, waving to the sudden open top-box behind the seat. “Put it in here.”

You handed the helmet to him and watched in fascination. “Oh. I didn’t know there was a space to put stuff.”

He grinned. “Come on, let’s go.”

You following his bouncing jog with a loose stride, closing your fingers into your palm and remembering the feeling of his solid body in your hands only moments before. Furrowed your brows and shook your head, approaching the entrance, seeing a family several meters ahead, tired parents with a couple of loud kids pointing excitedly at a lit-up snowman holding six candy canes like Wolverine claws.

“Have you been here this year yet?”

“Ah, no,” you absentmindedly replied, seeing Santa and his reindeer. Classic, and well-done. “Haven’t had the time.”

“There’s one at the end I think you’ll like,” Jungkook was saying excitedly. “But I think the food vendors went home already. There was a hotteok truck and another one that sold roasted sweet potatoes, mmm, but maybe you can come back some other time.”

“Uh huh.”

You knocked into Jungkook’s back and bounced, vigorously shaking your head. “Ow.”

“Sorry, there’s ice. Careful.”

“Oh.”

You realized Jungkook was looking at you and you let go of his arm, not even realizing you had grabbed it out of instinct so you didn’t trip. A weird moment of muteness. You looked past him to see three chipmunks flashing in red, blue, and green scarves.

You looked up at Jungkook, who had followed your eye line to the three cuties.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you ask your neighbor why I wasn’t coming over anymore?”

Those brown eyes looked away from the twinkling artificial stars to your eyes. There was a little bit a guilt. They shifted away and came back and you realized Jungkook didn’t know how to lie but he also wasn’t sure if he was about to be out of line either.

“I… I heard her crying. A lot. And it’s none of my business,” he mumbled, frowning. “My mom told me not to be nosy,” he added under his breath.

You almost snorted. “You told your mom that you were worried about the lesbian couple next door?”

Jungkook squinted at you, annoyed. “No, I told my mom that I was worried that my friend might have broken up, so I asked her if I should do anything. Something nice?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed weird especially when Black Panther: Wakanda Forever came out, and I was going to ask if you, I mean, you both were going to the midnight release but…”

The kids were yelling in the distance and you didn’t even hear them.

You were just staring at Jungkook and noticing that his ears were turning bright red.

All the adrenaline from the speed and, now, everything slammed on the brakes.

“I didn’t cry.”

He blinked slowly. “What?”

You breathed out, looking around you, at snow and lights and white, and then at Jungkook, wearing all black and that candy-cane sweater, at yourself and your dark monochrome outfit, and then you admitted it again. “I didn’t cry, and I feel kinda shitty for it.”

“Oh.”

You stepped past Jungkook and walked down the carved-out path, following footprints and hard work. He followed and you acknowledged him, looking from one festive decoration to another, admiring the creations and spinning through the inner workings of your mind. “I felt frustrated. I know sexual attraction and romantic relationships are two different things, but I wanted to believe they weren’t. I wanted to believe that enough time had passed and I was okay, but I wasn’t okay and maybe I’ll never be okay, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”

You glanced up.

Jungkook looked confused and thoughtful at the same time. “I think you said before you don’t talk to your parents?”

“Yeah. They’re assholes.”

“Oh.”

That wasn’t very descriptive so you gave a brief explanation. “They looked at me like a product they made. A child was an object that they could program to do things they weren’t able to do, like make lots of money, marry rich, and in general sacrifice all my autotomy for their every beck and call.” You shrugged. “A dog would have more grace than their child.”

“Ouch.”

“Also, they would not understand that I’m pansexual. I think I’d be shot on the spot.”

“Don’t talk to them,” he puffed heatedly.

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “And, yeah, I’m sure that kind of upbringing affected my romantic relationships.” And lots of other things, but that wasn’t the point right now.

“Everybody goes through stuff like that.”

You looked at him.

Jungkook shrugged. “My last girlfriend said all I care about is myself and there’s a reason why all my friends are older than me and called me irresponsible, selfish, and childish.”

“Are you?”

He frowned. “I don’t think so? I do the dishes and always fold my laundry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only fold?”

“Okay, sometimes I leave it on the table for a little while,” he grumbled.

You chuckled. “How long ago was this?”

“Um, couple years ago? Maybe five?”

“You were barely an adult,” you commented, seeing a face-down figure with white hair in a bun and something that looked suspiciously like deer tracks on the back of that red coat. Uh. You decided not to comment and move on. “Still learning.”

“Learning to be a dick, she’d probably say now. She would tell me not to get a bike for sure.”

“Thought the whole point she was dating you was because you had a dick.”

Jungkook laughed, loud and vibrant, the lights making his cheeks glow. “Well, she’s married now so I guess she found a better one.”

“Or settled.”

“Damn, you would think you were the one who dated her,” he snickered. You could tell he was enjoying this though, those brown orbs sparkling a little too bright. There was a little bit of a jealous streak in him, you could sense. “I think I was dating the wrong kind of girl though. I think I have to date someone who shares my interests more. I like being with the person I like all the time. I don’t want them to be sick of me.”

“Mmm. I can see that. Pretty childish of you.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, nudging his side. “As long as you know you are the problem.”

He narrowed his eyes.

You grinned. “I didn’t say you weren’t a fun problem to have.”

Jungkook leaned closer, squinting harder.

You grinned wider.

Then you realized he was so close and he realized he was so close, both of you backing up at the same time. A little too fast, simultaneously darting your hands out and grabbing each other’s forearms, you grasping his right with your left hand and his right hand on your left sleeve, squeezing hard, immediately regaining balance.

You let go.

He let go.

Speed under a green-black plaid scarf, something hot and moving fast under all those layers.

“Sorry.”

“Ah, no, my fault. Sorry.”

You jerked your head towards the light displays and started walking again, trying to move past this sudden weirdness. You pointed out the various ones you liked. Yellow pill-shaped Minions decorating a Christmas tree. A curtain of lights programmed to look like falling snowflakes. Penguins sliding down a light-up hill. Slowing down. Breathing. You glanced at Jungkook.

He looked somewhat ashamed.

“Hey.”

He tilted his head, inquiring with his big eyes and pink nose. “Hm?”

“I’m glad you took me here. I don’t think I’ve done anything festive this year.”

“O… Oh.” He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it might be cool. Cheer you up a bit.”

“Yeah. It’s funny. A lot of people think I don’t like this season.”

You saw Jungkook rub his nose, realizing it was cold. “Huh? Why?” he asked nasally.

You glanced down at your dark color palette. “Well, you know me, I like Halloween most, but I actually enjoy Christmas quite a lot. Not because I have any particularly nice memories around it,” you mused. “Ah, I mean when I was a kid. But, I don’t know, maybe that made me appreciate the spirit of the holiday time more than all the capitalistic stuff surrounding it, since I didn’t participate much in that.”

Jungkook blinked, puzzled. “You didn’t get gifts?”

You thought about it. “Hmm, not until I was an adult and only when I was dating someone who gave gifts.”

He pursed his lips and then reached out, taking your elbow and pulling your along, to the corner.

“Come on. This can be your gift.”

You stumbled behind him, craning your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Did you watch Wakanda Forever?”

“Of course, I did. You know Black Panther is my favorite.”

“Then, look.”

Your eyes widened as the bright display of Black Panther, black lights complete with the purple highlights and signature action pose loomed among the other creations, slightly out of place because it wasn’t holiday-themed or even remotely Korean, but apparently none of that mattered and it didn’t matter to you as you admired the craftsmanship of the wire structure underneath, obvious it was specifically Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa from the violet details.

“Oh, shit. That’s sick,” you breathed, staring at the display for far too long and probably burning it into your eyeballs.

“I knew you’d like it right away.”

“That’s so random that it’s here.”

“I mean it’s not Christmas, but the movie did come out a month ago, so I guess they made an exception ‘cause it was so cool.”

“I mean this feels like Christmas to me. Put a Santa hat on him and call it a day.”

Jungkook laughed. “Okay, I’ll sneak one on in the night.”

You whipped your head to him, wiggling your eyebrows. “I mean…”

“It turns off automatically at midnight to save power…” he trailed off, putting on a scheming face.

“Would you go to jail for that? Is a Santa hat vandalism?”

“I didn’t commit a crime if I don’t get caught,” he countered.

You gave him a look. “Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”

Jungkook scrunched up his face.

“Naughty or nice depends on who’s asking.”

He stuck his little pink tongue out.

You poked the tongue tip sticking out of his lips.

Instant wet warmth on your index finger. Jungkook jumped, startled at your quick action and even you snapped back, surprised at yourself. Why had you done that? A wave of fluster, and you froze, hand hovering in the air, and Jungkook rapidly blinking, cheeks turning bright red. Silence. Couldn’t even say sorry, too stunned at your action to try to double back to apologies. Big brown eyes framed with windswept black locks, something unsaid hanging between you and Jeon Jungkook.

A casual friendship.

Kept at a fixed distance for… reasons.

Well, it had been.

Nobody was stupid, but time and place meant something.

Fast lane, not feeling the cold, racing pulse, lowering your hand, and you could feel it. You knew it was there, but time and place and all those other things.

“Sorry,” you finally said.

Jungkook’s eyes started darting in all directions. “It… It’s okay.”

“It’s kind of not. No one should be touching other people’s tongues without permission,” you pointed out.

He wasn’t really looking at you. “It’s okay… I forgive you.”

“Stop pretending I’m not a bundle of walking problems.”

Now those brown orbs finally scooting back to you.

There was no getting around that.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not a fun problem to have,” Jungkook mumbled softly.

Yeah, especially not after this irresponsible, selfish, childish guy said something like that.

There was a lot of shit you could say, but none of it seemed right. They sounded like excuses, or lame roundabouts, or too much too fast, like getting a whole sleeve of heavily-inked tattoos in a little under two years and a bigass motorbike after passing your motorcycle license exam. They sounded like feebleness in what was pretty clear, and you didn’t believe in saying something that wasn’t the truth.

“Um...”

Jungkook continued staring at you like a lost reindeer even though his nose was quite red.

You decided it was best to give a response. “Yeah?”

“You… You’re not doing anything on Christmas?” he asked.

“Ah, no. Nope, I just get a day off work.”

An extended silence.

You verbally approached very carefully. “You wanna… uh… hang out at my place?”

“Oh…” Man, this conversation sure was something. “I can bring some food and stuff. I can cook.”

“Me too.”

“You… like pork belly, right?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite.”

Good fuckin’ gracious.

You couldn’t stand it anymore and exasperatedly put your head in your hand. “Just…” You saw Jungkook peering at you, looking worried. You put your hand down, resolving yourself quite quickly. “Okay. Give me your number. I’ll text you the address.” You didn’t think about it too much. Just yanked your phone out of your inner pocket and furiously typed down the numbers that came out of Jungkook’s mouth, your frozen fingers needing to press more than once, but you eventually got there.

After you pressed send, you immediately jerked your head up and looked at those big brown eyes very seriously.

“I… We… What happens, happens,” you finally said.

Jungkook nodded determinedly. “Yeah.”

It was pretty obvious what was going to happen but, then again, there were children around.

Last Christmas you received a gift with a note that said I love you.

This year, you would receive…?

-

“You think Die Hard is a Christmas film?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Sure?”

The actual movie didn’t really matter. Mostly because you fell asleep on top of him and woke up to a black television screen, wrapped in a fuzzy red velvet blanket, and Jeon Jungkook staring at you in the darkness. You blinked slowly. Could barely make out his face in the faint light of the open window, seeing the shape of his parted lips, the shine of his large eyes, the waves of black hair that cradled his cheeks.

You had animated conversation over dinner, funny stories of Jungkook’s friends and viral videos you had both seen on the internet, so natural it was almost frightening, complete with weird tense moments of silence that you or he pushed along, resolute, knowing how you got here, and yet.

Chills all over despite the warmth under the blanket.

He was not wearing a tacky sweater now. Just a simple black and white plaid flannel and a white t-shirt under, paired with loose black pants. Oversized and cozy to go with your fleece red-and-black checkered long pajamas. He smelled the same as he did the other day. He didn’t bring anything with him but a large glass Tupperware of food and his motorcycle helmet, saying he forgot to leave it by his bike. His heavy black coat was hanging in the hall closet by the front door.

You stared at Jungkook, saying nothing.

Stayed close.

He leaned in.

You closed the distance.

You were pretty sure you had a soul of ice.

Then again, Jungkook had said earlier in the night that he had been told in his fortune that he had too much fire in him, so maybe it canceled out or something.

You wanted to say you had an entire, deep discussion of, is this a good idea, or perhaps even, what is courteous and respectful but also fulfills the personal desires of the very obvious between us, but there was only heavy making out and lip-locking and breathless gasps and your hands around his waist again, warm and solid and present, and you shuddered, breathing him in, pulling him close, pressing your body to his.

Jungkook didn’t waste time.

His hands were on your hips, his wispy moan trailing over your lips.

Oh no. You tried to resist the addictive sensation that demanded to be chased, your lower body rolling into his, feeling was what very real and very apparent, his shaking breath tickling your lower lip and chin, whine shimmering in his throat. He liked it. Pulled you closer, increasing the pressure, your clothed pussy practically riding his clothed dick.

You caught his moaning mouth and felt the electricity of his arousal enter your lungs, your hands tangling into his hair, pulling his head back, first lightly and then when he didn’t relent, harder, tearing a moan from his throat, loud and vicious and pure power of his vocal cords vibrating under your kisses, nipping at his neck and leaving small possessive marks that he encouraged with gasping, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, falling apart in your skillful hands, tracing the crown of his head, his ears, his jaw.

You ran your tongue over his collarbone and then softly trailed back with kisses.

“O-Oh, fuuuuck me…”

That was the idea, yeah.

He was unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“Wha… Why are you wearing a bra?”

You guessed that was not supposed to sound whiny but then again Jungkook was pouting in frustration.

“I generally wear bras. You know, to hold my tits.”

He puffed his cheeks. “Don’t ladies usually not wear bras at home?”

“I imagine the situation might change if there was a hot man involved.”

An involuntarily shiver travelled all over Jungkook and the only reason you could feel it was because you were basically humping his dick.

“Also, we can’t talk much if you are distracted by my nipples,” you added.

You felt an agile hand creeping around to the back clasp. “What if I want to be distracted by your nipples…?” he trailed off experimentally, giving you a curious, mischievous look.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”

He tilted his head, sending dark strands over one eye and his cheek.

“Who’s asking?” he purred, his silvery voice low and deep.

Well, shit.

The man knew how to be sexy.

You raked your fingers through his thick black hair, feeling him tremble under you.

“Leader of the naughty list herself,” you breathed back, leaning in to kiss him again.

While it was true that Jungkook had not come with some last-minute wrapped trinket, he had brought a hard dick and abundant horniness, and that was a pretty good gift in your book. You showed him your boobs and those nipples he was so keen about – well, technically, he showed himself and audibly gasped when your bra tumbled off. You weren’t sure if he was acting or not, but that question was answered too, because he lifted you by the waist and ran his tongue over your cleavage and then started making out with your chest.

“Oh…!”

Your turn to be surprised and you clutched his head, gasping, pushing him to suck, and he didn’t need any more signs, circling his tongue around the hard nab and then his eyelids fluttered, moaning deep in his chest. Hot shivers at the feeling of his warm mouth and gentle insistence, your body pressing into him, matching his rhythm and sound, holding his free hand to your neglected breast while his other hand splayed over your lower back, strong and secure. Your thighs squeezed his waist, feeling his desire melt into yours.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know.

You just didn’t act on it and neither did Jungkook, other than the occasional puppy eyes because he was terrible at lying. He had made a conscious effort to stay securely in the friendzone out of respect. You had appreciated that, really. But then there was that chance meeting, and, even then, you knew he took you to the Festival of Lights just to cheer you up, not to put you in any complex or awkward situation, but, again, he was bad at lying and there was no getting around this very intense attraction between you and Jeon Jungkook.

Hence the current kissing down your stomach and you leaning back, slow cascading moan falling from your lips as you felt his dance around your bellybutton and he pulled down the waistband of your pajama pants, following your hip line.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Your fingertips grazing the lines of his legs, nails applying dainty pressure that made him quiver under you, his breath hitching as you placed your hands on his thighs and pressed your fingers inward, lifting yourself back up. Leaning down to kiss him again, tasting traces of you on his lips. Slowly peelings his clothes off, tangling him in them just to see his eyebrows knit in frustration, so cute, but you didn’t say, not yet, and then your clothes were in a rumpled pile on the living room floor. You in your panties and him in his boxer briefs, and you straddled his waist, kissing him repeatedly, rubbing your chest into his, feeling him under you.

Hot.

Shivering.

Overwhelmed with sensation, rolling his hips and hard cock into your covered heat.

He liked the feeling of your fingernails running down his chest. You did it once, just to test, and he reached for your hands, pulling them back up, more, and you watched his body writhe and fall apart under your touch, his head tipping back and lifting up his torso to add more pressure, moan hiking when you scratched down his sides and kissed his chest, licking his nipples, traveling to his back, earning a stronger reaction and his fingers sinking into your ass, his erection throbbing in between your thighs that squeezed his tense hips.

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

You could feel the dampness occurring, both from you and him.

“J… Jungkook…”

You couldn’t stop kissing him, continuously telling yourself last one, but that was ages ago, lips locked and drunk on foreplay, on his body and his sound, vibrant and carnal, a mix of cute and sexy that was practically illegal. Couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop whispering to him how nice he felt, how nice he tasted, careless, absorbed in the strength of his lust.

“C-Can I fuck you…? I brought condoms in my coat, j-just in case…”

“Naughty boy,” you scolded and didn’t mean it, and it was dangerous, so dangerous the way Jungkook desperately moaned as you placed your hand over his damp, pulsing hardness and rubbed him through his underwear, too dangerous with the way he looked at you and gasped, you wanna sit in this naughty boy’s lap?

Thankfully, that was the extent of that.

Also, you didn’t bother going all the way to the hall closet when you had plenty of condoms in your bedroom.

And, yeah, you sat in his lap.

”Oooh, wow, y-you feel soooo fucking good…“

Could have been either of you or both of you saying it. You wouldn’t remember if you thought about it later, because you were too busy rocking your hips and trying to find the correct rhythm again. It was easier than you thought, maybe because of Jungkook’s roaming hands on your thighs, hips, breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure across your torso that matched the satisfying fullness deep inside, and, right there, finding the correct depth and forcefulness, chasing it immediately, building the steady pace with the condom wrapper tumbling down your sheets and hitting your knee.

You snatched it and chucked the foil wrapper over the side of your bed.

“Oh!”

“Forget about it, fuck me, Jungkook, fuck me.”

He angled his hips up and you rode him, relentless pleasure and waves of need satisfied by thrusting, clenching around his thick, hard cock, losing yourself in the shocking bliss.

You closed your eyes.

Felt the heat, so intense it sent chills up and down your spine. Couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, hands on his chest, tense and vibrating under harsh smacks and craving more, your name in Jungkook’s breathless voice addicting. His sound, intoxicating. His body, telling, unable to lie and you could be nothing but be honest, so good, fuck, feels so fucking good, speeding in the fast lane and soaring from the feeling.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was someone special.

You looked down, just for a moment, catching those brown eyes, glassy and fucked-out and watching you like you were everything and more.

I need him.

The thought was so intense and raw that you felt something inside you snap, your breath cutting off, torrential crash and orgasm seizing you by the throat, throwing your head back, your hair sweeping your shoulders, and you came around him, jerking your hips to bury him deeper, oh, fuck, yeees, suspended in the blissful, powerful rush, feeling your liquid honey leak out and down, covering him with it, the scent of sex rising between your bodies.

Jungkook lifted his hips and your body by doing so, his hands strongly grasping your waist, moaning with you, thrusting hard and fast, fucking your through your orgasm and you immediately tumbled into another peak, back-to-back intensity, feverish pitch of your joined voices as he came too, rock-hard and twitching inside your pulsating tightness, holding both of you up by a miracle.

Or sheer lust.

Nice or naughty, right?

For a moment, mute, stunned silence at the shared feeling between you and him.

Sure, it was pretty damn obvious you were going to fuck.

You just didn’t expect it to feel this good and this right.

Down, down, down. Slow, serene, subliminal, the way he sank down and both your gazes left the ceiling, sinking into your sheets, your eyes and his eyes connecting, quiet but an entire conversation humming between your bodies.

“J… Jungkook.”

He was panting hard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, his long black hair a mess your pillows. “Y… Yeah?”

“It’s… It’s a bit late…”

Well, actually, you had no idea what time it was.

“Y-Yeah, it kinda is…” he breathed, caressing your hips with his fingertips, relentless energy under you, eyes so big and brown that you could drown in that comforting darkness.

“Can you just…”

A pause, racing hearts beating together.

“Stay?” you asked, tentative and unsure.

Jungkook squeezed your thigh, reassurance in his touch.

“I wanna stay,” he stated, nodding determinedly.

So, he stayed, the start of many Christmases to come.

--

masterpost

[gothhabiba]

Palestime فلستايم

it’s about time

[ID: A slender glass hourglass filled with brown sand. A metal ring around the center reads "palestime." End ID]

€159,00

The illegal Israeli occupation marks the Palestinian landscape not only in space; it distorts and makes time unpredictable. A trip from one city to another can easily double or triple, and you may get stuck depending on your papers, the traffic, or just the mood of the border guard.

PALESTIME is a dysfunctional hourglass. One time is set and predictable; the other is random and slow. It stands for the stolen time lost in the daily routine of travelling between cities, hampered by checkpoints, settlements and administrative chaos.

The hourglass is handmade in Jaba, a Palestinian town located 10 km northeast of Jerusalem in the central West Bank. Here, the Twan family preserves the legacy of the region’s unique glass industry. With extensive research, they developed a special metal piece that provides the predictable and unpredictable movement of sand, engraved with ‘PALESTIME’.

Design

Andreas Drosdz, Kareem Khalid, Shireen Salman, Silke Groffy, Zaide Kutay

Production

Jaba Glass Factory (PS)

Design development: Jessica Azizeh

Material: Glass, metal, local sea sandSize: 25 x 7cm

[magnus-falafelking]

FIERROCHASE WEDDING SUMMARY!!!

wanna know how our special day went? here you go :)

[NOT MY FANFIC]

[MY FRIEND WROTE IT FOR TODAY]

Boston weather was always a coin toss. During the summer months, it could be gloriously warm and sunny, miserably hot and humid, or, especially during the first part of June, even chilly and rainy. Most summers on the back bay were a mixture of all these conditions, plus a splattering of dramatic thunderstorms, just to keep the grass growing. 

But today? Today was perfect. 

All day, the weather had been clear skies and a cool breeze. Even though Frey wasn’t supposed to make an appearance, Magnus couldn’t help but feel like he had something to do with the strangely favorable turn in the forecast. The sun peeked through the partly cloudy sky to dress the sides of the chase mansion in warm summer sunlight. It was beautiful. For so many years, whenever Magnus looked at this building, he’d felt like some angry god had installed a permanent storm cloud over the roof. It had always been shrouded in an aura of foreboding, always surrounded by darkness, and always made him feel a little uncomfortable. But today, with the sun shining warmly and the breeze rustling the paper streamers and handmade signs the homeless kids at the chase space had insisted on personally designing and hanging from nearly every window, even the gargoyles seemed to look a bit friendlier. 

As the sun started to set, there was a vibrant buzz of excitement on the top floor patio as friends, family, and the current residents of the Chase Space milled around in excitement and chatted about the evening’s events. The space had been done up beautifully by Samirah, Mallory, and Annabeth (who had done all the organizing, and most of the arguing about the way things should look) with help from Halfborn, Tj, and Percy (who had mostly broken up said arguments and lifted the heavy objects). It wasn’t extravagant, but there were chairs with little flower bouquets tied to them, and a little raised platform for the two of them to stand on, and Blitzen had personally arranged several extremely expensive looking potted flower arrangements for either side, so they would be framed by lilies and magnolias and roses and other flowers Magnus couldn’t remember the names of as they said their ‘I do's.’

The bedrooms on the third floor had been converted into changing rooms for the event. In the one on the south side of the house, Magnus was unfolding and refolding the paper with his vows on it as he looked out over the stunning view of the back bay. 

The day was finally here. He was finally going to marry Alex. 

In front of everyone, he was going to say a lot of things about how much he loved Alex, how much Alex meant to him, how much he needed Alex, how he would always be with Alex until the end of the world- literally.

“I think I’m gonna puke.” 

Behind him, several heads turned as Magnus gripped the edge of the railing on the little patio he was standing on. Blitzen came up behind him as he leaned over it, patting his back reassuringly as Magnus made sounds much more like someone who had eaten bad falafel than someone who was about to experience the happiest day of their life.

“Hey kid. Let’s back away from the railing before you go headfirst into the bushes. That would not be a good look on your wedding day.” Carefully, Blitzen pulled him back into the room, sitting him down in one of the available chairs and giving him some very fatherly and encouraging pats on the shoulder. He was really putting in the work Frey probably should have been there doing…

Around him, everyone was putting the finishing touches on their outfits. All perfectly tailored, of course, which Blitzen had done much preening about in the hours leading up to now. Despite their extremely varied figures, Tj, Halfborn, Hearthstone, and Blitzen were all dressed in the same suit. It was simple but elegant, a wool suit tailored to fit each of their varying frames, smooth silk shirts, a professional but understated waistcoat, and a pair of brown leather shoes to match their ties. The only differences were that Halfborn and Tj were dressed in shades of brown and green, and Hearthstone and Blitzen were wearing warmer, more sunny but not overbearingly bright colors. Halfborn was also sporting a kilt which was, apparently, the same color as Mallory’s outfit. The pair of them had insisted on matching separately, then found out about each other's request and insisted on NOT matching, then had some kind of argument that had begun with words and ended… well, still with tongues. Magnus hadn’t asked a lot of questions after that, and had just told Blitzen to make an executive decision. Seeing the amount of leg hair on display now, he wondered if Blitzen should be trusted with too many more of those, even if they DID relate to fashion.

 Magnus himself was dressed in the same suit, except his was a deep, forest green, his waistcoat was white and had some kind of a subtle metallic shine to it, and his silk shirt was a light, blush pink. 

Alex’s colors. He was happy to be wearing them.

His hair was trimmed but still longer, hanging neat and orderly around his anxious face. On the lapel of his suit, he was wearing a pin with the same symbol Alex had tattooed on his neck, the two entwined serpents, the reclaimed symbol of Loki pinned just over his heart. 

“Gettin’ cold feet, Magnus?” Halfborn was all smiles and mead-blushed cheeks, standing with one arm on the back of a chair as he worked his way through his second horn of booze this hour. He had insisted it was Norse tradition to get absolutely hammered for the entire ceremony and reception, and when no one had joined him, he’d insisted he’d carry the load alone. “Don’t drop your guts in here. It’s much more romantic if Alex gets to watch.”

Tj sighed, shaking his head as he put a hand on Halfborn’s huge shoulder and patted it a couple times. “Halfborn, I think you’ve had enough to drink until after the ceremony. Magnus is just excited, not getting cold feet. Right, Magnus?” Tj sent him a bright, confident and reassuring smile. His wedding suit was spotless, perfectly fitted and pressed with the care and attentiveness he always gave his regular uniform. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his weapon. They were all on the property (just in case) but he looked a bit strange not having it right over his shoulder where it usually was. If it had been in his hands, he thought, Tj would look battle ready even in a wedding tuxedo. 

“Right.” Magnus’ voice was shaky. “Totally.”

All four of his wedding party exchanged a look. Each one of them took a seat, and Halfborn even set his drink down in its little stand as he half stumbled onto one of the couches and pinched his face into a decently impressive impression of a sober man.

Hearthstone sat nearest to Magnus, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before he pulled his attention to sign to him. 

‘It’s normal to be nervous. No worries. Big day.’ He exaggerated the gesture for big with an appropriate facial expression, making it clear he understood how nervous Magnus really was. 

“I’d be nervous marrying Alex too.” Halfborn agreed. “The Argr is a bit unpredictable. He might get you up to the altar and-“ Beside him, Tj subtly kicked his leg, causing Halfborn to let out an “ouch” followed by some apologetic muttering. 

“Everyone gets nervous on their wedding day.” Blitzen agreed, looking over at Halfborn like he might want a turn. “That’s why there’s alcohol. To take the edge off the jitters. You’re fine, kid. You’ve handled way more difficult things than saying a few words.”

“The last time I said a few words about Alex I embarrassed myself in front of everyone.” Magnus leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands and making another one of those bad-falafel noises. “What if I mess up again? What if my vows suck?” His head shot up as he looked over at Hearth, eyes wide. “What if I lean in to kiss Alex and I puke into the kiss??” 

Hearthstone’s expression was a pretty clear don’t-be-ridiculous look (mixed with some disgust as he pictured a vomit-kiss unwillingly), but he still signed it out to reassure him. 

‘You will be fine. No puke in mouth. Won’t happen.’ 

“And if it does happen.” Halfborn assured him, his voice slightly slurred, “I’ll distract everyone by puking with you.”

“If anyone but Magnus throws up on these suits, I will personally drag the responsible party to Helheim and hand them over to the goddess herself.” Blitzen said coolly, eyeing halfborn with a narrowed gaze. 

Somehow, that made the tension in Magnus’ stomach settle a little. He even managed a laugh, fiddling with the paper with his vows on it again. “I’m glad you’re all here. I really didn’t know if Alex was going to agree to this or not. I bet they’re having a way easier time getting ready across the hall.” Alex was always so cool and calm and collected. Magnus was pretty sure his finance wasn’t considering which of his uncle’s expensive display vases it would be best to toss his cookies into.

“So, is it time for this then?” Halfborn patted the small, flat green box tied with a black bow he’d been entrusted with earlier that day. It was a decent size, but it looked small in halfborn’s massive hands. Inside was the gift he’d gotten for Alex for their wedding day. It wasn’t a lot, but he’d put a lot of effort into it. 

Magnus felt the butterflies that had been making his stomach their home for the last few days make a reappearance. Suppressing them must have pissed them off cause they were fluttering around his insides with a vengeance. “Y-yeah… I guess it’s probably time?”

Halfborn stood with a nod, carrying the box towards the door. “Gotcha. I’ll be delivering the package then!”

———-

Across the hall, the other wedding party was causing so much noise, it was a miracle the boys couldn’t hear it. 

“Catch it! Grab her! Don’t let her get to the door!” Furniture was overturned, pillows were torn and weapons were flying as Samirah, Alex, and Mallory chased something around the room. 

It had appeared when Alex had been checking the mirror to make sure the wedding suit was sitting right on her (for the fifteenth time in as many minutes) slithering up onto the fabric of the shoulder and whispering in her ear things nobody wanted to hear on any day, much less at their wedding. It had taken her a moment to figure out where the voice was coming from, but had spotted the tip of a little green head just over her shoulder in the mirror. 

Alex wasn’t willing to listen to bullshit any day, but especially not today. She’d grabbed and thrown the snake against a wall, the snake had hit the surface and flattened like one of those rubber sticky toys and slid down between the wall and a couch, and that had started a mess of moving things to get at it. 

“I know it’s you, mom!” Alex hissed, rolling on the floor and reaching under a chair, nearly missing grabbing the snake’s emerald green tail. “You weren’t invited! What are you doing here?”

The snake slithered over to a bookshelf, lifting up its head to peer at them. “Don’t be ridiculousss, Alexx …” the s sounds on the ends of his words were lengthened by the flicking tongue peeking out between those scaly lips, though it wasn’t clear if it was intentional or something Loki was doing for dramatic effect. “No child of mine will be married without my presenccce. I'm hurt you didn’t invite me. What have I ever done to deserve such disssregard-“ 

The snake’s speech was interrupted when a glowing spearhead sunk into the wood of the bookcase beside it, forcing Loki to dodge and slither away again. 

Samirah scowled, leaping over to retrieve her weapon and spinning around to look for where he had gone. “Nobody is humoring you today, Loki. You know exactly why you’re not welcome here.”

“Sorry, I know you’re family and all,” Mallory chimed in, her twin daggers flashing threateningly as she scanned the room for any sign of movements. “But the guest list is exclusive, and Sam and I are sort of responsible for watchin it. We’re gonna have to remove you if you don’t leave on your own.” Lighting fast, she stabbed her dagger down by a new moving lump in the carpet, nearly missing the worm. She scowled as she tried to land several more jabs in the twisting, contorting shape.

Samirah came to help Alex up off the floor as Mallory attempted to turn the rug in the room into Swiss cheese, straightening out the ruffled edges of the wedding suit. “Mallory is right, Alex. It’s our job to handle things like this. Don’t go jumping around and ruining your outfit.” As she spoke, she picked up her axe from a table beside her, throwing it as the snake came slithering out of the carpet and nearly pinning Loki to the wooden floor. The axe sunk in the old wood floorboards deep, but a few inches too far to the right, letting the snake slither away and under the door into the hallway.

“Oh Hel no.” Alex undid Sif’s garrote from her waist, making towards the door before both of the other women stopped her. 

“And just where do you think you’re goin?” Mallory asked, raising one fiery red brow at her. She and Samirah were both dressed in shades of pink, though Mallory’s pink was more of a rose red sort of color. It was a knee length dress, suited to running around a room toppling over furniture, which was pleated and patterned with a traditional Scottish plaid. The plaid pattern extended to a piece of fabric which lay up over one shoulder and went back down her back, and there was a belt cinching the whole operation in at the waist. Beneath the plaid she was wearing a plain white shirt, making her wholly more prepared looking for a fight than really anyone else Alex had seen all day. “I just said I’ll handle it. It’s only one snake, even if it is Loki.” She brandished a knife, wiggling it threateningly. “Think I can’t dissipate a little illusion magic? I swear, I just gotta catch him and you won’t need to worry for the rest of the week. I’ll send whatever piece of him came crawling up here right back where it came.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will. I just think it’ll go faster if we all handle it together.” Alex pushed out of their hold, heading for the door. Her hands were a little sweaty as she gripped her garrote. Why was Loki here? What did he want? Did he really care that much about this stupid wedding? It was just some words they were saying, it’s not like it was anything super serious. Why had Loki decided to meddle in her life  again? She wasn’t sure, but she was 100% sure that the ceremony couldn’t go on if there was a worm wiggling around the Chase Space. No, it was definitely not okay that Loki was here. Loki was the cause of Alex’s anxiety, and Alex was going to stay anxious until she personally sent Loki back to that stupid cave. 

And anyways, it was better to be running around than sitting in this damn room counting down the minutes like she had been. Yes, definitely better to be chasing a snake that was actually your mother who is actually a mega-control-freak-shapeshifter than sitting in a stuffy old room staring at yourself in a mirror. 

Just as she put a hand on the door, Samirah pulled her back, placing herself between the exit and her sister. 

Samirah’s pink ensemble was much different than Mallory’s. Her dress was four or five shades of pink, and all layered organza. The skirt swept to the floor, and the sleeves were a sheer white lace that went all the way to her wrist, framed by loose curtains of the pink organza that fell delicately over her shoulders. With the hijab around her head, she looked a bit like an upside down rose the way the diagonal hanging layers of the dress cascaded around her form. 

Sam may have looked nice, but blocking the door was a very dangerous move. Alex had to respect it a bit, but she didn’t have to agree with it. 

“Sam, it’s my wedding day and I want to hunt a snake.” Alex’s voice was as tight as her grip on the garrote handles she was brandishing threateningly. 

“No, you want to escape dealing with your anxiety by cutting something into a million pieces.” Sam corrected, folding her lace covered arms over her chest. “And while I understand that living in Valhalla has inclined you towards such… violent forms of stress relief, I’m not allowing you to do this today. It’s a little sliver of spirit. Easily dispersed. Loki is still weak and recovering from… last time.” Samirah sighed, taking Alex by the shoulders and forcing her to sit on one of the chairs. When she had finally wrestled the garrote out of her sister’s hands and secured it back around her waist, she knelt in front of her to hold them in her own. “There’s no reason to assume he could show up in any significant form. He didn’t even change shape once, so he must be too weak to manage it. He’s just trying to get in your head and ruin your wedding. You’ve proven over and over that he has no power over you. Don’t give up that control just because you’re nervous about the wedding. Let us handle it and you just stay here and relax.”

“No trouble at all, Fierro.” Mallory assured her, finally un-wedging her knife from the floorboards. “We’ll go deal with this. You wait here and look pretty.”

Alex made some sort of sound that was probably more jaguar than frustrated human, grabbing a pillow and vaulting off the couch to chuck it full speed at the wall. “I’m not going to sit around in this room like a decoration ! If my mom wants a piece of me I’ll give her one!”

“Alex, no!” Samirah grabbed her arm, giving her a stern look. “I know you’re anxious. I promise it will be fine. Really, I swear. Please, let me handle it? And just take a few minutes to calm down, okay?” Samirah put on her best pleading expression, her hold on her arm softening. “I just… I just want you to be happy. I don’t want you to worry about anything today. Please…”

Alex didn’t know what she was feeling. Confused, angry, startled, nauseous… all the emotions were building up all at once. She felt a strange, almost uncontrollable desire to shift. Felt like her skin was itching to change, like maybe if she became something slippery enough she could slide out of this mess, or maybe change into something with a roar loud enough to quiet the buzzing that had been in her head all day. She had almost been happy to see Loki. Not because she wanted to, but because it gave her something to focus on besides how she really felt about this whole wedding situation…

Scared. 

After a long, silent stare-down, Alex crossed her arms and turned her head away, hoping she’d withdrawn fast enough to hide the way they were trembling. “Fine. Whatever. Call me when you need my help catching the slippery bastard.”

Samirah let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, nodding with the warmest smile she’d had all day. “We’ll call if we need you. Come on, Mallory.” 

————

[Song accompaniment: Wonder by Shawn Mendez]

Magnus had most often found it best to follow the rules. When his mom had been alive, she’d even accused him of being a little too well behaved sometimes, pinched his cheeks and told him he should sneak out or talk back. “Live a little, be a kid” or something like that. It wasn’t like he had a strong inclination towards the law or whatever, it was just usually easier and created less issues to do things the legal, reasonable way. 

But, his two years on the streets had taught him a lot of things, and one of those things was that sometimes, breaking the rules was sort of a necessary thing. Like when you hadn’t eaten in three days and there was nothing edible in the dumpster, so you had to swipe a sandwich from a deli. 

Or when your whole wedding party suddenly leaves your dressing room to deal with some kind of pest control emergency (since when did the Chase Space have worms?) and left you holding the box that someone else was supposed to deliver to your fiancée. 

Magnus stood awkwardly in front of Alex’s dressing room door, lifting and lowering his hand a few times. Should he leave it and run? Should he stay? Did it really matter if they saw each other a little early?

Inside the room, Alex was sitting with her feet up on the couch, knees to her chest and thoughts racing. There was too much to consider. Her eyes settled on a little ship in a bottle on the bookshelf across from her as a storm started brewing in her mind. 

Did Mangnus really want to marry her? Why were they getting married anyways? Mallory and halfborn broke up every other month and fought like crazy. What if they started fighting like that in a hundred years and wanted a divorce? 

The ship in the bottle seemed to move, swaying on the waves of Alex’s frenzied thoughts. 

Why was Loki here? Did he have some sort of plan to mess with her life again? Did he want to stop the marriage so that he could try and force her into another one like he tried to do to Samirah? Like she was almost forced to do when she took samirah’s place?

Her thoughts were so wild and all-encompassing that she didn’t notice the way her hands were shaking, didn’t notice the way her eyes were reddening. The memory of drinking out of the cup after Thrymm at her first wedding returned to her against her will. She’d been forced to do it, and the realization that the ceremony might have actually been completed made her almost as nauseatingly disgusted as the thought of sharing his backwash-wine did. She felt sick. The ship in the bottle seemed like it might capsize-

There was a knock at the door, followed by a familiar voice. 

“Uh… hey Alex. It’s me.”

The noise stopped. The sky seemed to clear. Alex blinked, wiping something wet and hot away from her eyes as she looked at the ship on the shelf. It was still.

“I know I’m not supposed to see you yet. Or uh, well, I mean you’re not supposed to see me either. but… there’s no rules about our voices, right?”

On the other side of the door, Magnus was fidgeting anxiously, rolling up onto his toes and back onto his heels like a weird little doll, bobbing back and forth in a way that would have made Alex laugh if she could have seen. “I just came to bring you your gift.”

Alex glanced towards the door, her body uncurling from its little ball before she even thought about it. Her feet moved without her direction, like Magnus was a lighthouse in her little storm guiding her safely to shore. She stopped a foot or so from the door, finding it startlingly easy to level out her voice. “You are breaking the rules, chase.” Her voice was barely shaking. She felt warm. She always felt warm around Magnus. 

Magnus felt his lips turn up into one of those stupid goofy smiles that always made Alex blush. He didn’t fight it. “Yeah well, you know, I figured you’d be way more into me if I broke a few rules.” 

Alex laughed a little. The sound was genuine, so the edges of the sound were tinged with the lingering fear that Magnus always chased away. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Ooh, careful. In a couple hours I’m going to be youridiot. Like, forever. You wouldn’t want to be married to an idiot, would you?”

“Probably not. Not unless he’s really hot. I mean, he’s gotta be really, really hot.”

Magnus’s grin got a little wider as he felt a swell of confidence. “Oh yeah? So you think I’m really really hot? Like really really really -“

“Alright chase, you’re pushing it. Three reallys? That’s crazy.” 

By now, both of them were pressed up against the door. If there hadn’t been a piece of wood between them, they would have been forehead to forehead, nose to nose. Magnus swore he could feel Alex’s breath on his cheeks if he closed his eyes. 

Alex felt completely calm. The rolling waves in her stomach had changed to a warm, bubbly feeling. Ah, right. What a dummy she’d been. Alex wasn’t marrying Magnus because someone told her to. She wasn’t marrying Magnus because he was strong or cool, or really really really hot. 

Alex wanted to marry Magnus because to her, Magnus felt like home. She’s realized recently that Magnus was warm and summery and light, and that just being near him made her feel warm and summery too. Her whole life had been a hurricane of wild misfortune and crazy happenstance, everyone and everything whipping her wildly in every direction all at once. 

But whenever Magnus was there, she knew she’d found the eye of the storm, and that was never going to change. 

“This is crazy.” The words left her lips before she could stop them, and she felt a momentary pang of guilt and fear, her eyes flicking up to the wood as if she could peer through it to see Magnus's reaction. Crap. 

“Yeah. It’s pretty crazy.” Magnus agreed, turning the box in his hands around a few times. “I mean, I never thought I’d get married. And I kind of thought if I did get married, I’d still be alive when it happened.” 

“Ghost marriages exist.” Alex ventured, her brain fried from all the emotional ups and downs. 

“Yeah, I know. We’re doing one I think.” Magnus pulled his head back from the door, reaching for the handle. “Here. This is for you.” He pulled the door open a crack, just enough to pass the box through. “Tj said I’m supposed to give you a gift before the ceremony? Halfborn was gonna bring it over but I guess we have worms…” 

As if on cue, the sound of something crashing came from downstairs, followed by the sound of a berserker shouting at the top of his lungs. 

“Must be big worms…”

Alex stepped away from the door and set the box down on a table, carefully untying the ribbon. Her hands started to shake again as she lifted the lid, carefully peeling back the tissue to see what was cradled inside. 

After a few moments of terrifying silence from both Alex and the lower levels of the house, Magnus heard the loudest, most ridiculous laugh he’d ever heard come from behind the door. For a moment it made him smile, then his smile faltered slightly when it seemed like Alex was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. “What? I did my best!”

Alex was practically rolling over what she’d found in that box. In her hands she held a little clay figurine of (she was pretty sure) an animal, only she couldn’t tell what animal it was supposed to be. It was just big enough to fit in her palm, and seemed to be some kind of cow-goat-giraffe hybrid. It had a neck that was just a bit too long, short stubby little legs that came to strangely sharp points, what appeared to be a cat’s tail, and a lump of clay that was surely supposed to be designed into some kind of face, but Alex couldn’t for the life of her see it as much more than a smushed in thumb with eye holes that was smiling at her in a comically goofy way. The worst part was the little cow-giraffe’s dorky smile kind of looked like Magnus if she squinted. She had to put the figure down in the tissue so she didn’t break it as she nearly collapsed on the floor. 

“Mag- Magnus. Please tell me-haha! T-tell me what the Helheim im looking at.”

Magnus was moping on the other side of the door, a serious pout on his face. “… you really can’t tell…?”

“Oh gods. Hahah! Go- go back to your room. Hah! Oh my gods… I’ll see you in an hour. I’m giving you the biggest goddamn kiss when it’s time.” 

Alex couldn’t stop the laughs still slipping out of her lips as she picked up and cradled the little clay figurine in her hands like it was some kind of treasure. By the sound of Magnus’ excited little trot back to his side of the hall, it seemed like they were both in much better spirits. 

————

[Song accompaniment: Electric Love by BØRNS]

It took the wedding party an hour to deal with the pest control issue, which fortunately meant they were done right on time to walk the aisle. 

Unfortunately, that also meant that Mallory was walking the aisle with some kind of ash from an explosion on the left side of her skirt, and blitzen had to do a last minute patch of hearthstone’s sleeve, which had ripped in the scuffle with the worms. The state of them had confused Magnus, but they had all insisted it didn’t matter, and hurried into their places. 

They’d definitely looked worse. At least Halfborn was still wearing his shirt.

As the sun set over the horizon, settling a halo of golden hour glow over their reception venue, the ceremony began. 

The first down the aisle was the officiant, Jack. 

It was really a good thing that most people in attendance could see through the mist, because for the few that couldn’t, he couldn’t imagine what display was replacing a self-levitating talking sword. They had briefly considered using someone else for this role, but upon being rejected, Jack had offered to MC via acapella renditions of all their favorite songs for the whole evening, and had swiftly been returned the offer of officiating. He floated quite impressively to the end of the aisle, then spun to face the crowd in a pretty show-offey flourish. Magnus figured he was probably smiling. 

Up next were the boys. Tj walked the Aisle first, proudly taking his position at the side of the groom with a way too excited look on his face. He was followed swiftly by Halfborn, but only after Mallory had cursed him out in Gaelic and taken the mead horn from his hand that he’d been trying to walk down with. 

After that it was Magnus’ turn. Gods he was terrified. Alex wasn’t even up there yet and he was terrified!

He took a deep breath, straightening his jacket and trying to settle his stomach as Blitzen and Hearthstone came up on either side of him. 

Blitzen adjusted his own jacket, giving him a wink and a confident smile. “We got you, kid. No worries.”

Hearthstone nodded on his other side, signing ‘right beside you.’ 

Arms interlocked in what had to be a cheesy way, they made their way down the aisle together. Magnus was glad for the handhold, because when he started making eye contact with people, he felt like his knees might give out. He spotted Annabeth and Percy in the crowd, his cousin waving and smiling sweetly at him. Percy looked as cool and calm as ever. How did he do that all the time?

The walk to the altar felt like it took forever. By the time they stopped, Magnus wondered if they’d missed the ceremony altogether. 

“Welcome señor! Now that the groom has arrived, it’s time for the ladies~.” 

The crowd mercifully turned their attention away from Magnus. Blitzen and Hearthstone stayed beside him, holding his hands and giving him reassuring squeezes as they watched the entrance. 

Mallory came first. She’d made a good fuss about it earlier in the day, but she seemed happy now to be filling the role of flower girl. Most of her argument had been they hadn’t needed a flower girl, and if Samirah wanted one so bad how come she didn’t throw the flower then, and of course Alex had enjoyed the little spat and not helped settle it at all by saying she didn’t care either way. In the end, Mallory had agreed to be the “best damn cailín bláthanna anyone had ever seen”, and Magnus had to admit she was doing pretty well. Although it should be said there wasn’t much to throwing flower petals. 

When Mallory joined them on the altar, Jack's blade seemed to brighten up a little more, his runes glowing a soft pink as he spoke again. “Señors and señioritas, would you please join me and rise for the presentation of Alex Fierro?”

Eager smiles filled the faces as the door to the top patio of the Chase Mansion opened, and Samirah and Alex stepped out into the light of the setting sun. 

And oh, gods, did Magnus nearly fall over. 

Alex was dressed in a suit that hugged her body in every proper way. It wasn’t like his, it was… hard to describe. The base color wasn’t too far off the green of his own suit, but it was accented with beautiful shades of pink lining some of the seams and peeking out between the folds of the suit around the neck. Where Magnus's suit had sharp, smart lines that gave him an air of masculinity, Alex’s outfit was soft curves and gentle slopes. The way it moved made it seem like Alex was switching genders with every step. Like she was glowing with the sunset and becoming one with the wind. Like the breeze tossing his hair to the side might have also subtly changed the shape of his nose. Trailing behind him and draping off the back of the coat was a long, elegant train. It was a gradient pink to white, and glittered with the adornment of several hundred tiny crystals. Each one of them glittered a different color depending on the way the light hit them, making the whole thing seem to glitter in the setting sun. It seemed to be attached to the suit jacket in several places, at the shoulders, the waist… When Alex turned to pull the train from the stairs, her silhouette was so completely feminine. The suit seemed to shift fully into a dress, and the dress seemed to curve around her body perfectly. When the train was free and Alex faced front again, the suit came back into view, and the heavy stare that Alex leveled at him combined with the full frontal focus of the suit snapped him straight in the opposite direction so hard he almost fell into Blitzen. 

For the first time, his sense of Alex’s gender was a mystery.

Blitzen steadied him, nodding appreciatively. “I know, Magnus.” He patted his pseudo-son on the back, leaving the ‘I outdid myself’ silent. 

Alex took Samirah’s arm as the door closed behind them, and the pair of them made their way towards the altar. With every step, Magnus swore he could see Alex shift and change. He was fluid, harmonious, breathtakingly beautiful. As Alex got closer he could see the little bits of makeup she’d put on, and as he came up to the altar, Magnus said a rushed prayer to his dad that he wouldn’t fall over when Blitzen and Hearthstone let him go. 

Samirah gave Alex a kiss on the cheek, whispering something in her ear and left to take her spot on the Altar. 

Blitzen stepped up to Alex first, somewhat awkwardly reaching out to take her hand and shake it. “Alright, Alex. We’re handing him off. It’s a big responsibility.”

If Alex was nervous, it didn’t show. His expression was confident and maybe a little cocky as he shook Blitzen’s hand. “Yeah, I know.” 

“You take care of him properly.”

“I will.”

“Cause if you don’t, you know we can-“

Hearthstone cleared his throat, raising one thin brow when Blitzen turned to him with a scowl. The attending audience laughed politely. “Alright, alright. I get it.” 

Hearthstone stepped down to join him, smiling and nodding once before he signed. ‘We are happy to be here. Happy for both of you.’ He turned to Magnus when he signed ‘both’. He reached out his hand towards Alex, who placed her hand in his. He guided Alex up to the altar, then carefully placed his hand in Magnus’ hand, giving them both a little squeeze before he let go. 

Magnus wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have seen hearthstone brush away a tear when he and blitz went to sit down. 

“Aaaalrighty then, let’s get to it!” Jack said happily, swaying excitedly back and forth as he started in on the ceremony. Since Jack was a minister (for some reason) ordained a long time ago, his ceremony didn’t deviate too far from the one they had attended (and ruined?) before. They each shared a drink out of the same cup of wine, Jack floated sideways and impressively delivered a proper blessing on their rings while using himself as the tool of blessing, and there even seem to be a fairly targeted break in the clouds when they took turns slipping the rings on, filled with the warmth of summer. 

“Now that someone is done showing off ,” Jack said with a sour tone as their magical halo of ring-exchanging light dimmed and the sun finally began to dip all the way down. He muttered something that made his runes glow just barely, then brightened up as he floated a little higher again. “Magnus, you may say your vows to your beloved~.”

“Right. Cool.” Magnus smiled, still holding onto Alex’s hand where Hearthstone had joined them. Should he go for the paper with just one hand? Was it okay to let go? Probably not. Best to keep holding on, right? He didn’t want to let Alex go anyways. With one hand, he dug into his pocket for the folded up paper with his vows. Then, still holding his hand, he did his best to unfold them against his leg with his one free hand, smoothing it out clumsily and nearly dropping it. 

Could Alex have let him go and helped him out? Absolutely. Was he enjoying this display of genuine awkward lovable idiocy too much to help? Absolutely. 

As he watched Magnus finally get a hold of the situation (and the paper), he couldn’t help the snort of laughter that broke out of him. He waved off Magnus’ confused look with his free hand, gesturing for him to read his vows as the crowd giggled with him. 

Was he ever going to let go of Magnus’ hand?

Absolutely not. 

“Okay, got it.” Magnus smiled sheepishly, hoping the hand Alex was holding wasn’t too clammy. He gave her an apologetic smile as he cleared his throat and glanced at the paper. 

“Alex,” the name came out a little awkward, but he smiled through it. “Ever since you came to Valhalla and garroted my head off, I was intrigued by you.” He glanced up to see if Alex was still there, then back down at the paper. 

Yep, still there. 

“You were mysterious and mesmerizing, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know you.” The words were coming easier now, but Magnus still felt like if he looked up he might start remembering how he’d felt a few hours before, and he just really didn’t need the thought of bad falafel at this exact moment. “And… through these years we’ve been together, as I’ve come to know you…” he looked up. It mattered this time. He had to look up, and when he met Alex’s eyes, he felt like he might not even need the paper anymore. 

Still held on to it though, just in case. 

“I think I’ve finally found what I’m looking for.” He smiled, the tension leaving him. For a minute, he felt like maybe they weren’t standing on a stage in front of a bunch of people. Maybe they were somewhere alone, maybe he was just telling Alex these things in private. They were sitting at a campfire, huddled together, things were undefined but Magnus knew what he knew, what he felt, and what he needed to say. “The piece of you that makes me vow to love you and stay by your side forever. And that piece is you, Alex. Who you really are. With all your compassion, courageousness, and with everything you’ve been through, you make me admire you more every day.” He smiled, squeezing the hand he still hadn’t let go of. “I love every part of you, Alex. And I want to stay with you forever, past ragnarok.”

There was a little cheer around the crowd, as well as what seemed like some sniffling sounds emanating from Jack’s blue glowing runestones. “Couldn’t have said it better myself señor.”

Magnus glanced towards Hearth and Blitz, both of whom gave him a thumbs up. Tj patted him on the shoulder, whispering “Great job, Magnus. The hard part is over!” In his ear. 

Magnus smiled and nodded, still holding Alex’s hand like a lifeline as he shoved the paper into his pocket, missed, bent to pick it up, tried to shove it in again, missed again-

After watching him struggle, Alex sighed and shook his head, reaching out to take it. He mercifully did not release his hand, using one of his own to fold the sheet back up as the crowd laughed some more. 

“Here.” He leaned over, tucking it into Magnus’ pocket. “Try not to lose it.”

“Right.” He nodded, still grinning dumbly as Alex rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Okay Señiorita, it is officially your turn to confess your undying love for Magnus.” Jack directed, floating a little closer to Alex. 

“Cool.” Alex nudged the sword back into place with an elbow. “Personal space, please.” For the first time since coming up to the altar she looked nervous. Magnus could tell, even if Alex didn’t want him to tell. It was reassuring, feeling the way Alex’s hand trembled slightly in his own, noticing that Alex was just as eager to hold on. Alex even reached out to take the other hand too, fully facing him.

“Wait, don’t you need to-“

“I memorized it.” Alex said evenly, shrugging. “I’ve got it.” Despite her cool demeanor, her hands were trembling a little, just like his. 

She took a breath, focusing both two-toned eyes completely on Magnus and doing her best not to think about how many people were staring directly at them. “Mags.” Her lips twitched into a smile, hands squeezing his. “Beantown. Maggie.” Their audience giggled. Alex dropped her shoulders a half inch, relaxing. “I can’t believe that we’re actually getting married. Honestly, you must be a saint.” She squeezed his hands again, her eyes flickering down to them instead of Mangnus’ stupid perfect sunny face. “I’m flawed and I’m well aware. I know I can be annoying and loud and too flashy…” she trailed off, still not meeting his eyes. He squeezed her hands back, drawing her attention. He was still smiling, but his brow was creased slightly, as if he was saying “what are you talking about, dummy?” He shook his head just slightly. 

Alex felt a rush of warmth. Maybe it was a little bit of that weird Frey magic. Maybe it was just Magnus. 

She met his eyes again, and all the tension went out of her. “But, in the end, you're my person. And I’m yours, too. And while I may be kinda mean sometimes, I do love you. So much.” She nodded, seeming satisfied with her speech. “So yeah, I do.”

Behind Magnus, Halfborn’s voice broke up the sniffling and “awe”s coming from the audience. “Is that it?” 

Mallory bent down and pulled off her shoe, shooting it across the altar and beaning Halfborn in the head. Magnus didn’t even notice. 

“Relax the smile, Maggie, your face is gonna get stuck.” Alex whispered, reaching up to pinch his cheek. 

Magnus nodded, blinking back tears. His smile didn’t waver. 

“If there are no other blessings to be offered, then I will call for the end of the ceremony.” Jack said, wiggling around behind the couple on the altar like he was looking for someone to stand up, then glancing up towards the sky. When no one moved and it didn’t seem like frey was going to descend from the clouds, he bobbed up and down a couple times, glowing a little brighter. “In that case, dudes and dudettes of the assembly, I am totally thrilled to pronounce these two souls bound for life. Or uh… until the end of the world. You may now- oh.”

Alex didn’t wait to be told. As soon as they were given permission, she took a fistful of that expensive suit and swung Magnus around, dipping him dramatically and pressing their lips together. 

Magnus wasn’t sure if he was dizzy with excitement or because of how fast Alex had spun him around. He figured that was going to happen a lot from now on. 

———-

[Song accompaniment: Paper Rings/New Romantics by Taylor Swift]

The after-ceremony celebration was wild beyond expectations. Actually, it was a miracle upon miracles that no cops were called in for a noise complaint. 

It had started off relatively reasonably, with a little bit of magical mead carried over from Valhalla and a few uninvited guests (not wedding crashers really, just friends of friends), and had quickly somersaulted into what was basically an out of control house party. 

At first they were just playing music on the roof deck. People were dancing and hanging out, and there were a few volunteer valkyries running for food and drink from Valhalla (courtesy of a new catering service offered by Odin. They had gotten a discount for trying it out.) Of course there was catering from Fadlan’s Falafel as well, managed by Amir personally. Any time magnus came anywhere near him he was offering the new groom a plate of falafel. For once he wondered if he might be able to get sick of it. When some other Enherji had spotted the running Valkyries asked about where they were going, the attendance list of the wedding had started growing, and people had started looking for interesting things to do on the lower floors. 

By midnight, from the roof deck to the front lawn, there was music, drinking, and all out revelry. Even those who had abstained from the alcohol seemed to be overtaken by the mood of the celebration. There was an impromptu karaoke room set up in the study, a bowling tournament using some of Randolph’s old statues occurring in the hallway on the second floor, and since the catered food didn’t seem to be satiating them anymore, people had started raiding the kitchen of the Chase space for some kind of cooking operation. When Magnus peeked into the kitchen, he saw a lot of things going into a blender that didn’t seem like they were meant to go together, followed by several large burly guys daring each other to chug a disgustingly thick concoction. 

There were no weapons allowed, since many of the guests were Enherji and couldn’t be trusted to mix partying with violence and not end up dead over it, but there were still stick sword fights in the hallways branching out into all out Guerilla warfare. As Magnus moved from room to room defending his new wife, he noticed some of the Einherjar teaching the kids from the Chase Space how to fight, and noticed some of them were pretty good fighters.

That probably wasn’t a great sign for the future conflicts they were going to be dealing with, but whatever. Tonight was a good night. He was married. He didn’t Puke in Alex’s mouth or fall off the stage or embarrass himself, and he even got to look cool in front of the homeless kids, which was great for his ego. 

And best of all, Alex was next to him all night. The two of them were practically glued together, and Magnus was over the moon about it. He barely needed a drink of mead to start feeling drunk and giddy. They went from room to room playing games, laughing, and generally causing a bit of chaos. At one point, the play-war happening separated into the living vs the Einherjar, and he and Percy had had a very impressive sword fight in the front yard. He’d been one horn of mead in at the time, and was pretty sure he shouldn’t have been able to beat him, but Percy had taken a somewhat dramatic dive into the river after a good strike, leaving Magnus standing stunned on the bank for a few seconds before everyone exploded in applause. Alex had given him an excited reward kiss and shouted something at Annabeth as she was towing her wet boyfriend out of the river. 

Annabeth didn’t seem upset, and Magnus was pretty sure he’d seen her smiling the whole time as she’d given Percy a kiss of his own. 

It had been a few years since he’d died, and even though he’d stopped counting, he was pretty sure he was over Valhalla’s legal drinking age, or at least that he had earned it saving the world once or twice. So, after his glorious victory, he’d had a couple more drinks, offered some fighting tips to his eager (and drunk) troops, then wandered off to find somewhere to hide with Alex. 

The two of them were hiding for a few hours. No one ever figured out where, or what they had been doing, and they were extremely tight lipped, if very smiley about it, when they came back out to the party. They made a stop in the karaoke office for Magnus to do a frankly impressive performance of Taylor Switf’s ‘Lover’ to a flustered Alex sitting in a chair. He was still singing it when they headed out of the room. 

Near the end of the night the two groups of hallway fighters had called for an orderly competition, and they’d settled on a tournament of sorts on the rooftop. The chairs had been pushed aside and a circle had been marked off in the center of the space. It seemed like they were playing a game of King of the Ring, taking turns pushing eachother out of the circle and cheering excitedly when someone won. 

When Alex and Magnus had wandered up, the competitors had arranged a sort of throne for the two newlyweds to spectate the ongoing competition from. It was just a couple of chairs pushed together with the flower arrangements from the ceremony next to them and a bunch of pillows, but Magnus did kind of feel like a king every time they cheered and raised their glasses towards him. 

Alex came half wobbling over after refilling a plate full of snacks. Tossing her plate down on her seat, she planted herself directly into her new Husband’s lap with a happy wiggle.

Huh. Husband. Weird. 

“Make room, mags.” She pushed his arms and legs around a little until she was comfortably sitting sideways on his lap with her feet over the armrest, then reached over to pull the plate of food into her lap. 

“Mags?” Magnus was grinning. He'd had something to drink since they came back out. It might have been spiked? He hadn’t asked. Everything seemed kind of warm and funny. He felt a little dizzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the smell of whatever Perfume Alex had put on. Alex seemed in a similar state. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t using the mean nicknames. Happily, he wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed. 

“Hey, I’m eating!” She elbowed him, steadying her plate of cookies and chips. “Sit still or I’ll get a proper chair.”

“Okay.” He nodded like a dummy, then rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. After a few minutes of shouting, a round of the competition finished, and the whole roof let out a cheer. Magnus smiled, squeezing Alex again. 

“‘Mhappy.” He muttered, his voice quiet and next to her ear. 

Alex paused, tilting her head towards him and raising a brow. “Better be.”

“Mhm.” He nodded a couple times, his chin bumping her shoulder. “Mmm.”

She offered him a piece of cookie, which he ate obediently. “Magnus.” Her voice was soft, a little slurred. 

“Mmm?” He turned to look at her, meeting her eyes and trying to focus. 

“I love you.”

The two of them sat there, staring at each other for a few moments. The air was warm, the sky lit up with stars. They were surrounded by a hundred happy people there to celebrate them. Still, the best moments of the day were ones like this. Ones where they felt completely alone, and understood each other completely without saying any words. Magnus’s big dummy smile spread across his lips, and for once, Alex’s drunk mind didn’t bother trying to hide her own in return. 

“Yeah.” Magnus nodded. “I know.”

————————————————————————

TAGS: @alex-fierro-pr-nightmare@mallory-keen-to-kill@thomas-jefferson-jr@halfbornhalfdead@lordofsummergodofrizz@deadmomclubattendee@imhotterthanallofyou@that-hijabi-loki-spawn@runest0nes@blitzen-imnot-that-short

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

Happy Secret Samol to DumplingSquid who asked for Signet & Belgard pre-Twilight Mirage. I like to think someone from Memorious made fanart to commemorate her becoming Belgard’s new Excerpt.

Tiny fic below

They marked scars of light in pitch; born in fiercest purpose, and beheld as the signet sealed upon our pact twisted her sash around her wrist one more time, to better anchor herself within the zero gravity of Belgard’s cockpit.

She was supposed to be getting used to the system of harnesses that would keep her safe in battle, but the temptation to cling to the familiar was still strong in her heart. She had only been an Excerpt for a week, no one could judge her for a little homesickness.

Belgard had not commented on her choice to drift in wrappings of silk like a second chrysalis within Belgard’s shields. However her Divine had commented on the portrait she now held in her hands.

“The artist has a deep attachment to handmade paper, they made it often as a child,” Belgard had said, as if there were deep meaning to the words.

“I’d have thought creating it in the mesh would be easier.”

“The artists on Memorious do not do things the easy way, unless they can find some artistry in it.” Belgard’s tone was hard to read. How long would she have to be an Excerpt before she’d understand?

“I wonder why they chose to highlight Signet…” She’d been considering ‘Purpose’ or ‘Pact’ for the short form of her Excerpt name. “Signet. Hmm.”

“It certainly has a ring to it.” Did Divines understand humour? Could a machine laugh?

“Huh?”

“Would you like to be called Signet?” There was affection in Belgard’s tone now, she could swear it.

“Yes,” Signet murmured. “I think I would.”

[kalpanahandmadepaper]

[halcyonsteppe]

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[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Bag Game!

Thanks for the tag, @kaylinalexanderbooks (here)!

Rules: Name five things your OC would have in a backpack or any bag at school.

I'll go with some of the cast from Supernova Initiative and Enchanted Illusions.

(Since my characters live in a either fantasy or sci-fi world and are not school-aged, Imma just go with the contents of their regular bags to make this easier)

(Supernova Initiative)

Jack Tithus

Mint bubblegum

Ammo and chargers for his guns

A miniature first aid pack/painkillers

A holo-picture of him and Cassie

Sweet and crunchy energy bars

A to-go bottle of chocolate milk

Cassie Tithus

Extra parts for her projects and robots

Scrunchies for her hair + hair dye packets

A pocket knife/box cutter

An old, skrunkly plushie

An extra tablet

Inflatable neck pillow

Aleks Keldora

The "face-changer" (his high tech mask that can turn him into anyone's lookalike)

Dozens of stolen IDs, documents and government papers

A handmade drawing of his mothers

Tiny explosives and big explosives

A bottle of nail polish

Vesper Foxx

Self-repair kit for her cyborg implants

A bunch of extra parts in case she needs to replace something

The bracelet her little sister gave her for her birthday

Knives. So many knives. And guns. Don't forget the guns, and poison gas grenades.

A list of the names of each member of the mercenary crew she is hunting down

Artemis Zreeth

Leather gloves and old goggles

Cheesy snacks

His father's old scarf

Star-dust cigarettes

Eyeliner

A foldable speeder bike that becomes a tiny disk when deactivated

Pax Stellaryn

Void Program study material

Crumpled notes, messy journals and glitter pens

His diary

A picture of his cat riding a floating skateboard (don't ask lol)

Sour candy, and lollipops

Ethean Mirannir

Extra uniform

Pilot gear and an emergency kit for his spaceship

A holo-picture of his whole family and him during his graduation day seven year ago

Neon markers and a drawing sketchbook

Fidget toy for anxiety relief

(Enchanted Illusions)

Augustus Grimmure

Bloodstained handkerchief

A small dagger

Necromancy tome of spells and his journal

Recipe for instant magical coffee

An engagement ring he has yet to give Harriet

A bag of cookies from his grandma

Harriet Sharppe

Dainty silk gloves

Extra painkillers in case her cousin forgets

Pocket knife

The latest book she is reading

Lip balm

Chocolate bar

Agatha Greenwoods

Her overflowing journal, containing clues of the case she's trying to solve

A crumpled but well loved picture of her father

Sleep medicine

Switchblade

An extra change of clothes

Cailean Telkerly

His late brother's broken pocketwatch

Worn out brass knuckles and a pocket pistol

Multiple kinds of currency, all stolen

A bottle of cologne

Crumpled candy papers

Falsified documents for any given occasion

Sam Delaways

Snacks and extra food

A dusty old jacket

Very little spare change/copper coins, on good days

A bunch of useless knickknacks he proudly collects

His brothers' plushies when they don't want to carry them

Evangeline Daemitya

Her drawing sketchbook and a travel case for her pens and pencils

A locket with a picture of her and her father

Her intricate coinpurse

An enchanted rapier that becomes a tiny ring when not being used

Poison bottles and a botany guide

Tagging: @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories

@the-ellia-west, @winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Since its emergence as a symbol of Remembrance after the First World War, poppies have taken on various shapes and sizes.

From handmade silk and cotton poppies to wartime poppies, 2023 sees the biggest change in the poppy’s design for a generation.

Made entirely from paper, the new plastic-free poppy is available alongside stock of the existing poppy to reduce waste and can be recycled in ordinary paper recycling collections.

As we approach Remembrance Sunday, please wear a poppy to show the Armed Forces community you care and help us raise vital funds to support Serving personnel, veterans, and their families all year round.

[snek-panini]

For Binderary Book #2 we have a tiny (letter quarto) book! Here is It's Getting Hard, This Holding Back by @zehwulf (Hi, I asked to bind your fic back in January. Surprise, it's here!). This is for sure one of the cuddliest things I have ever read, and if you want to read something extremely soft and silly and asexual where everyone's favorite angel and demon fail to communicate till the end but it's funny instead of heartbreaking, then oh boy is this the fic for you. It remains a favorite for me and I read it when I'm sad.

I've fallen into the habit with my letter quarto binds of using materials that I already have on hand, and I did the same for this one. The cover paper is a pearly white scrapbook paper that I bought but didn't use in another project, and the spine is actually an off-cut of the platinum silk moire that I bought for binding Persuasion. I like it better on the spine than I did for the Persuasion endpapers; it was really well-behaved, didn't wrinkle or stain, and holds a hinge crease well. I don't know how well it's going to wear but I'd use it in this context again in a heartbeat. It's annoyingly hard to photograph though, as in the pearlescent paper and the metallic silver HTV. This book is so much prettier in person.

More photos under the cut!

Top view showing the ribbon bookmark and endbands. This isn't exactly a short fic at over 13k, but the typeset came out at less than a hundred pages so it was too short for handmade endbands. The blue is pretty though, and it matches the endpapers. Endpapers are scrapbook paper from Joann's (and I got some glue on them but don't look at that part). I bought them for an unspecified project because I thought they were pretty, but I accidentally grabbed an extra sheet. Fortunately you only need one sheet of paper to make endpapers at this size, so I still have a set to do another book with later on. And this bind, being all whites and silvers, desperately needed some color, so this was a good way to do it. The typeset is quite simple compared to a lot of the other ones I do, but I just felt it fit the story that way. I love an elaborate, flourish-y typeset when it fits the story, but this one's more about the core of things and the characters' interior feelings than the exterior obvious motifs. It was tricky to nail an aesthetic without some more overt imagery, but I think the simplicity fits it and I'm proud of this one.

[inkblot-mirror]

A list of gifts Reina received on her birthday from the main cast:

Riddle—Leatherbound notebook

Ace—Jumbo bag of barbecue flavor chips

Deuce—A new hair clip in the shape of a chick 🐤

Cater—A new phone case and new guitar pick

Trey—A neatly pressed bookmark with a four leaf clover that he found in the Heartslaybul gardens

Leona—A random expensive bracelet off his dresser

Ruggie—A wad of thaumarks that he swiped from Leona without him noticing as well as a hastily scribbled piece of paper listing useful tips and life hacks.

Jack—Packet of rose seeds

Azul—Coupon for a free meal at the Mostro Lounge

Jade—A nice ceramic planter for her roses (it’s covered in mushroom designs though)

Floyd—Sloppily made shrimp plushie with the seams falling apart

Kalim—A giant banquet with musicians and dancers

Jamil—A nice silk robe to wear over her pajamas

Vil—Personalized tube of lipstick charmed to change colors to match whatever outfit she is wearing

Rook—New pair of boots, perfectly sized

Epel—Jar of handmade applesauce

Idia—A duplicate of her favorite idol costume from back home, down to every last matching detail

Ortho—HD recordings of her Pop Music Club performances

Malleus— A ring. 👀 “A sign of things to come”

Lilia—A mysterious vial containing what he claims to be “liquid luck”

Sebek—A photo album filled with exclusive, never-before-seen pictures of Malleus

Silver—An actual rapier, wrapped in pink ribbon