#VINTAGE ROUND LEATHER CORD

[sunnetherlands]

https://www.sunenterprises.eu/en/products/leather-cord.html

[missanthropicprinciple]

scrunchy nylon jacket, marithé + françois girbaud

rayon and mohair tank, poleci

rayon and linen skirt, skies are blue

handcrafted bronze gundestrup cauldron cernunnos pendant by vis a vis jewelry, woven necklace made by me

Specific fashion goal achieved! A few weeks ago I was reminded of one of my favorite old magazines from my teen years; the October 1999 issue of YM (Young and Modern). I was just 13 and was cycling around the block. It had been raining a bit and I remember the street was still wet and gravely. As I rounded the bend I saw a magazine sitting in a slumped, tented position on the road near the curb. Someone had evidently dropped it getting in or out of their car. I picked it up. Realizing it was mostly intact, though wet and stuck with pebbles, I held onto it, finished my turn around the block and snuck it into the house and into the chasm of my tiny bedroom. I eventually cut it up, kept one page folded up in my purse for years, and stuck parts of it into a scrapbook. Many years later I bought an unblemished copy for scanning. Also at random more recently, I decided to go on a hunt for some of the pieces in my fave photo shoot. Surprisingly, I found two of them.

The scrunchy nylon jacket from Marithé + François Girbaud was originally priced at $112 and I paid $182. It was a little steep, but it is a vintage late 90s piece, pre-revival of the brand. The seller listed it as being from the 80s but the exact design is from 1999. As much as I wanted the grey color I really love the black edition as it goes great with pretty much everything I own. Machine wash cold, tumble dry low. Wuuuut? So great. I was very lucky to find the unique rayon and mohair tank from Poleci. Original list price was $76 and I only paid $21. It fits me and has a great cut. Really the center of the outfit! Only downside is that it’s dry-clean only.

I wasn’t able to find the $72 skirt from Cubika (incidentally there’s a toy company by the same name) but I found a lovely rayon and linen skirt from Skies are Blue (new with tags). The original price was about $60 and I paid $29. It’s a different cut but I think it actually looks cuter, especially as the top part of the skirt is very similar to the Cubika one so it has the same look and line as the outfit in the magazine. Machine wash cold and tumble dry low which is very convenient.

I couldn’t find the exact $45 necklace from Dogearred so I added one of my own pieces. I bought a handcrafted bronze pendant featuring a replica of the depiction of Cernunnos on the Gundestrup Cauldron by Vis a Vis Jewelry for $90 and I made the woven necklace myself with cotton cord from Maine Thread. I’m not really into the tall boots so I would pair this look with Docs or leather sandals. In the end I paid more than the original look but two of these were 25 year old designer pieces and the pendant is something that I got long before I put this outfit together. Plus my jewelry wasn’t emulating the one in the mag; if I had gotten an actual piece from Dogearred it would have cost me a lot less. All in all, this is exactly what I wanted it to look like. It wasn’t my goal to look the way the model does - the goal was to look like me in that outfit. It works for me in a different kind of way, with my hair and my vibe. I love it.

[decorhomeau]

Elevate Your Space with Unique Décor

In recent years, home decor has evolved beyond just furniture and paint. Adding a personal touch to your living space has become an art form, and one trend that has taken off is the use of wall hanging. These intricate designs, made by knotting cords in various patterns, bring a natural, bohemian vibe to any room. Macrame wall hangings are perfect for adding texture and warmth to your walls, creating a visually appealing focal point. Available in a variety of sizes, shapes, and colors, these handmade pieces effortlessly blend with modern, minimalist, or eclectic decor. Whether you hang one in your living room, bedroom, or hallway, a macrame piece adds a touch of artistry and craftsmanship that transforms any space into a cozy, inviting sanctuary.

While macrame is all about elevating your walls, another aspect of enhancing your personal space is organizing your belongings in style. Jewellery boxes offer both functionality and elegance, making them essential for anyone who loves accessorizing. With various designs available, from vintage wooden chests to sleek modern cases, boxes help keep your precious items safe while adding a touch of sophistication to your vanity or dresser. These boxes come with compartments designed to store rings, necklaces, earrings, and more, ensuring your pieces remain untangled and easy to find. Not only are they practical, but they also serve as decorative items, especially when crafted from high-quality materials like wood, metal, or leather. A beautiful jewellery box can complement your room’s aesthetic while providing a personal storage solution.

When it comes to creating a harmonious living environment, blending aesthetics with functionality is key. Incorporating macrame wall hangings allows you to add character to your home with natural fibers and intricate designs, while boxes for jewellery offer both practicality and elegance. Together, they contribute to a well-rounded space that reflects your style and personality.

Whether you’re aiming to organize your accessories stylishly or enhance the visual appeal of your walls, these decorative items provide both beauty and usefulness. A thoughtfully placed wall hanging or a finely crafted jewellery box not only enhances your home's appearance but also brings a sense of calm and order to your surroundings. With so many designs and options available, you can easily find the perfect pieces to suit your taste and lifestyle.

[lavatica]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Donald J. Pliner round metallic Crossbody bag, leather suede woven.

[pocketsrestorations]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage LOFT Black Graduated Large Round Bead Necklace on Leather Cord.

[wlfkssd]

The Way You Flirt

based on a combination of prompts sent in by @issadoragreen <3​

summary : aethelred comments on hvitserk’s flirting and they end up having sex in the maze in the gardens that surround rollo’s castle in frankia. (set in the When in Frankia au)

pairing : hvitserk x aethelred

words : 2,790

warnings : (a probably) poor attempt at SMUT in the latter half of the piece. aethelred giving, hvitserk receiving. fingering. butt stuff. 

"The way you flirt is shameless." Aethelred admonishes, quietly, steely eyes piercing into Hvitserk beside him. Both know it has everything to do with the plump, dark red grape being held as daintly as possible between thumb and forefinger. It's an offering. From one prince to another. Whether or not Aethelred chooses to accept it; that's entirely to come.

Hvitserk laughs, gaze fixed upon the face close to his own. "You think this is shameless?" He asks, wasting no time in popping the small, round fruit into his own mouth and crushing it between his back teeth. "One day, I will take you to Uppsala. Then you will see what shameless is."

Nimble fingers pick another grape from the bunch on the large silver platter in front of them and offer it up. This time, Aethelred considers before he leans in, opening his mouth just enough to allow the fruit inside. His tongue is practiced at staying put, flat, and his expression holds nothing but indifference.

Yet. Hvitserk can see the way the Saxon's cheeks flush as rough digits pass the threshold of his warm, pink entrance. A flush that's just as deep as it had been when tongues found themselves locking in a battle as furious and seemingly ancient as that of their two cultures. A flush that Hvitserk knows spreads just as beautifully down, past Aethelred's collarbones and onto his chest.

The exchange is short lived in real time but, for the pair of them, moments like this last forever. And, when it's finally time for those fingers to withdraw, Hvitserk finds himself taking them both in, savouring whatever taste he can of the most forbidden fruit of all.

"Uppsala. What's that?" Their gazes fall from one another as Aethelred makes short work of the grape and leans across to pick up his cup of wine. He's really enjoying the Frankish vintage. Perhaps a few barrels will have to come home with him to Wessex in the new year. He drinks, still chewing.

"We travel there to make sacrifices to the Gods every nine years. My father never really talked about it, and I've only been there once, but it's a place where anything is possible." Hvitserk explains, tongue pressing into his cheek as it searches out the remnants of food, leftover from his last mouthful. "I could feed you as many grapes as I wanted there and nobody would care. You could feed me whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted."

That sounds far more like an offer not to be fulfilled in the future, but now, and along with the look Hvitserk's clear eyes give, it's fairly obvious that's the point.

"Whatever I wanted. Whenever I wanted to, hm?"

Understanding dawns as the two stare one another down. Yet, gone is the animosity that may once have pitted them against one another and Aethelred's throat bobs as he brings the chalice up to take another drink, swallowing almost audibly even in the crowded dining hall.

"Yes." Comes the reply and this time Hvitserk's tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as if in invitation. He blinks. He's holding his breath.

"Perhaps, then, we might meet in the gardens in an hour, Prince Hvitserk." The tone Aethelred takes is formal but there's a mischief in his heavy-set eyes. One that's lost as soon as he turns to make conversation with the diplomat to the other side of him.

***********

An hour later, roughly, of course, Rollo having kept his nephew a while to ask questions about his budding friendship with the prince from England, Hvitserk bolts down the side steps of the tower and into the gardens as promised. The sun has set and now the night air touches his face with a gentle kiss of cold; kinder than the frozen lake where he fell as a child in Kattegat.

"Aethelred?" He whispers, peering about as he takes a few steps forward. Arms bring his dark cloak in around him.

Beside the long shadow of the tallest tree in the grounds, the Saxon waits. His gaze is turned upwards, towards the moon and his figure is still as a statue. His shadow, too, is long, cast just as beautifully as nature intended upon the grass beneath both their feet.

Hvitserk approaches and comes to stand beside him.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Blue eyes don't turn away from the shining orb, high in the dark sky and all Hvitserk can do is agree. "I sometimes wonder how many times you and I have gazed upon her, unaware of each other's existence."

"Her?"

It's now that Aethelred looks down, bringing his eyes and thoughts from the Heavens, allowing them to rest easily upon more Earthly delights. "The moon. She's a woman. A saintly one who sees every sin beneath her, committed under the veil of darkness, and says nothing to the rising sun that follows."

"I like-" Hvitserk is allowed no more than that as, whatever he might say is first stifled, pushed back down his throat and then, a second later, coaxed out in the form of a soft, short moan. Aethelred's mouth on his is divine; every time perfectly explaining the meaning of a miracle but without words. This near-silent exchange sees their hands, having learned and remembered one another's bodies, touching.

Aethelred lays warm palms to Hvitserk's cheeks, holding his face in a steady grasp as they kiss. It's surprising for the Saxon to initiate such a thing but Hvitserk won't stop him now. That would be pure madness when he knows all he has to do is part his lips and he'll be invaded just as easily as the Mediterranean had been; conquered just as easily as England.

Some may call him weak but Hvitserk feels himself melt. Thoughts leave his mind as feelings build in his chest - his own hands finding their rightful place at Aethelred's waist, fingertips tightening into the soft material of his long robe.

Breathlessly, they part after a long moment. Lungs gasp and burn as their chests rise and fall in unison. Yet still they come back together, Hvitserk giving in and opening his mouth to greet Aethelred's exploring tongue with his own. The touch is familiar by now and confident, rough pads scraping alongside one another as teeth bite softly into plump lips; fuller now, heated and throbbing.

Another lifetime passes in the moonlight and a fox cries in the darkness.

"We should go. I want you but not here." Aethelred barely moves away, breath mixing beautifully with the cloud puffed from Hvitserk's mouth so closely aligned with his own.

"I know where we can go."

The words are no sooner out of Hvitserk's mouth than he takes Aethelred's hand and leads him quickly to the north side of the tower. Before them; a maze of tall hedges. It's secretive and sure to be safe at this time of night.

Safe for lovers.

"Come on." Biting his lip, Hvitserk smiles and lets his fingers entwine with those of the Saxon now, where before only their palms touched. "Nobody will find us here." He starts to walk backwards, eyes as much a lure as the way his cloak falls open, revealing how hard he is inside his leather trousers.

"Hvitserk," Aethelred's protests fall silent against the vision of the Viking's desire for him and he takes a breath of cold air in, steadying himself. "There may be other lovers in there."

"So what. I don't care. You want me and I want you; that's all I care about. And besides, anyone who has to sneak around at night to have sex won't say anything about us if we don't say anything about them."

The reasoning makes sense and, for once, Aethelred finds himself throwing caution to the wind as his feet carry him into the very same footfalls as Hvitserk, making them appear to be one to the naked eye.

Once inside the maze, the moonlight is more a hinderance than a help. Shadows are heavy and hit every angle, making it almost impossible to see. Yet, the hold upon his hand gives Aethelred all the reassurance he needs. He is not alone.

A few times along the way, they stop to kiss against the prim, cut hedges, and more than once Hvitserk loses his hand between them, palm almost cool against the throbbing warmth their bodies provide in anticipation. Aethelred is harder than he is. He's heavier too, Hvitserk knows, and even the thought of that has his hips pushing forward, begging for friction; just a touch if nothing else.

"Do you want me here?" Hvitserk's lidded eyes draw Aethelred in as needy hands do, pulling the Saxon flush against him, drawing a sharp and satisfying hiss from them both. One that slides into a sigh and then a laugh.

"I want you here."

Whatever shame may have been felt before now dissipates with those four, short words. Whatever feelings Hvitserk might have of needing to be in control or dominant - simply because each of his brothers is - vanish. Giving himself to a Saxon might be seen as weak by some, a betrayal by others, but it's all he wants.

Just to feel full and wanted.

Nudging Aethelred away, but holding onto his gaze, Hvitserk pulls the cord of his cloak, allowing it to drop from his shoulders, into a heap at his side. He instantly feels the cold but knowing what's to come keeps him warm enough. Hands slowly find their way to the waist of his trousers and deliberately, he hooks his thumbs inside. In one movement then, he's exposed as leather trousers cling to his thighs and his cock softly slaps back up against the skin of his stomach, hidden a little by his green tunic. One practiced hand lifts the hem of that tunic as the other wraps itself loosely into a fist around his hardness. He strokes it as he tilts his chin up, eyes darker.

"Then have me here, Prince Aethelred."

No note of shyness invades Hvitserk's voice as he finds himself turned and bent at the waist. In the darkness, it feels as though this should be wrong but, if anything, finally being taken this way is what makes having to hide all-the-more worth it.

Strong hands guide Hvitserk's legs, spreading them by the thighs - a little wider. Strong but gentle hands. And that makes the Viking gasp and shudder. Because he knows Aethelred will take care of him. The touch to his lower back, beneath his tunic, grounds him and the shifting he can't see soon falls silent but for the slickening of fingers from Aethelred's own mouth.

And then the blunt press he knows all-too-well.

It's uncomfortable at first, despite only being one or two digits, and Hvitserk tries his best not to flinch or give any indication that he doesn't like it. Because he knows full-well what this sharp sensation will turn into with careful ministrations. A hiss and his toes curl but Aethelred's hand soothes him, rubbing full and so very there at his lower back.

"Do you want me to stop?" Aethelred asks, even as two of his fingers seek to sink deeper into the tight, warm entrance. He will stop if Hvitserk tells him to.

"No. No, don't." Even now, Hvitserk can hear he sounds desperate. It's almost embarrassing - or probably would be to anyone else. But he glances over his shoulder and Aethelred catches his eye. "Just kiss me."

It's the softest command and Aethelred doesn't need to be told twice. As he steps closer, the action only reiterating the fact that two digits are fully seated now, a slow rhythm forming in and out, the prince gives as much heat to the kiss as he can as distraction. His second hand even comes up, reflexively taking hold firmly around Hvitserk's throat to hold him still. Tongues clash in a sloppy, wet way and neither can tell by the end whose mouth is filled more lovingly with the moans of the other.

For that is how they give and take; in moans. In the vibrations Aethelred can feel straining against his palm as his hold only tightens when he feels Hvitserk clench around him.

Aethelred pulls back, easing away with a last small touch of their mouths. It's a gauged tease followed very soon by the loss of touch altogether and Hvitserk, for a moment, fears that perhaps he's gone too far. That perhaps his bite that's almost drawn blood on the Saxon has brought this moment to a crashing halt.

But he's wrong.

The retreat of fingers makes way for the beading head of Aethelred's heavy cock at his entrance and the warmth is unmistakable.

Hvitserk shivers in the night and barely controls his body as it begs to push back; stopped only by a determined hold on his hips. This is to be done at a pace not his own. That much is very clear. No matter how desperately he wants relief.

"What's the matter, Saxon?" He breathes out, panting really, one hand still between his legs, stroking his hard cock. He curves his spine beautifully. "Losing your nerve?"

Aethelred laughs behind him. Not the kind of laugh that he used much before he came to Frankia but one that's become all-too-familiar since. He shakes his head - not that Hvitserk can see. "Hardly. I'm just more used to being taken by you but I suppose it's time that came to an end."

The yes and the please are lost somewhere in the breath that's punched out of Hvitserk's chest in the moment that follows. A silent gasp drops from his mouth; jaw agape with painful pleasure.

Inch by inch slides in - a new sound accompanying each as it's hit and passed - until Aethelred's hips are pressed flush. Skin on skin. The feeling, according to Hvitserk, is better than being with a woman. He can believe it now but it makes the realisation of his future seem all the more unsatisfying. If he knows sex won't ever feel like this again, as though he's a little closer to his God, despite the sin, then what's the point? A family will come to be sure but this tight heat is one of a kind. One he's sad to know he'll have to give up soon.

"Do you like it? Do you like being conquered, Hvitserk?"

That's all he wishes now. To have Aethelred lay waste to him in the best way. Take everything from him; his senses, his mind, his speech. Everything. He longs to be consumed with desire and devoured by his lover.

Bringing the hand up from between his legs, Hvitserk blindly reaches behind and finds Aethelred's hand there to meet his. He takes it and guides it down, wrapping it, along with his own fingers, back around himself.

"I like it. Take anything you want. I'm yours."

Slowly, the rhythm between hands and hips begins. The slow drag that falls in line with the slow push. The slow twist of a wrist that brings about the clench and the quake. Over and over and over again, each thrust gaining in power and speed until the night's silence is indefinitely broken by their shared, unbridled passion.

Few words are exchanged. Instead, the air is filled with the growing repetition of each other's names. Aethelred's whispered out through moans and the slick sound of sex, and Hvitserk's very much the same. Both breaking in crescendo as bodies tense, jointly, in orgasm, before relaxing into one another. The weight of the Saxon prince is heavy as he all-but collapses against Hvitserk, boneless now.

Aethelred's hips still twitch as he releases the last of his seed and Hvitserk is, at least at first, reluctant to let go of his hand - now sticky along with the Viking's own. Gradually though, they recover and part. Hvitserk turns, leaning back into the forgiving hedge and grins, feeling the soreness already beginning but ignoring it in place of the thick, wet warmth left deliberately to soothe it. His face is flushed and the darkness now does little to hide it.

"So?" Hvitserk croaks out, not bothering to dress for a moment but choosing to watch Aethelred tuck himself back in, instead. "Are you going to think of me when you're bedding your wife in the future?"

"Mmm," Aethelred mirrors with a lazy smile. His eyes blink even more heavily than before, if that's possible, and he steps in close again. "Perhaps. But I don't think you should think so highly of yourself, Pagan." He laughs and leans in to claim Hvitserk's mouth in a hot, open kiss; a thin line of saliva connecting them even as they break. "It gives you a bitter taste."

Just as Hvitserk did before, at the dining table, Aethelred holds his gaze and raises his own fingers to his lips. His thumb slips between them and the cooling mess left behind is consumed. Fingers follow systematically and such a thing makes both their cocks twitch.

Perhaps grapes should become a staple from now on.

[nuttystrawberrysalad]

All About Knitted Hats

Quarantine has sparked plenty of new at-home hobbies. Maybe you picked up a paintbrush and tapped into your inner artist. Or, you might have transformed your kitchen into a bakery. For some, perfecting their knitting and crocheting skills even led to a business — which is why you're likely seeing the knit hat trend unexpectedly taking off on Instagram.

For Delsy Gouw, founder of Brooklyn-based label Its Memorial day, crocheting started out as a fun activity. "[It] originally started as an online Depop vintage shop [in 2019] but when Covid hit, I wasn’t able to source any goods," she tells TZR. "I also lost my job and found myself with a lot of time on my hands." Gouw picked up the old hobby of hers and began making items for friends, and then her friends' friends were requesting pieces, too. She then began crafting knit hats because she believed the demand was there. "I started with bags but when I posted them so many of my friends and followers asked when or if I’d be open to making hats and taking customs for hats," Gouw tells TZR. While trends typically fade away and come back later on, Gouw hopes this style will stay long-term. "[I] can’t speak for knitting, but the way crochet is done is truly so intricate, unique, and is made to last," she explains. "Crochet can only be done by hand so I think there is something special about having an accessory that is unique and handmade." Fans of Gouw's emerging brand include influencers like Reese Blutstein, Jo Rosenthal, and Ella Emhoff.

Who knows when the first person decided to put something over their head to keep it warm, but knitters know that knitted hats for women are some of the most fun and easy things to knit.

When they’re worked in the round there is little in the way of shaping, except when you get to the crown.

Most hats are worked from the bottom up, with stitches cast-on and worked in a snug stitch pattern such as ribbing, or in stockinette for a rolled bring hat, using a smaller size needle than is used for the head portion of the hat.

In many hat patterns, the hat is worked straight for the desired length of the crown, then nearly all of the stitches are evenly decreased over the course of just a few rounds.

The yarn is cut, the tail threaded through the remaining stitches, pulled tight, and fastened off to the inside of the hat.

The hat can be topped with a pom pom, i-cord, tassel, or whatever embellishment strikes your fancy.

A great book for learning to make hats is Ann Budd’s Handy Book of Patterns, from which some of the material on this page is excerpted. There are chapters on basic hats as well as the type of hats called “tams.”

There are several types of hats, but the most popular knitted hats for men are beanie-type caps, tams (sometimes called “berets”), slouch hats, earflap hats, and tuques.

Beanies: These hats can be super simple or dressed up with a lace or cable patterns. In cooler climates, they’re wonderful gifts for knitters to make.

Tams/Berets: There are so many different stitch patterns to use in this style. Tams and berets can be plain stockinette or intricate Fair Isle. This style of hat is really flattering on just about every face shape, too.

Earflap Hats: These hats are popular in cold climates. They’re great for keeping ears warm and they’re fun to knit. The knitters of Peru specialize in these hats, as shown in the photo at right.

Often a knitted hats for children will have a finished size that is smaller than the average adult head. That’s because hats meant to fit closely at the brim need a bit of negative ease to help them fit snugly and keep them on the head.

The amount of negative ease refers to the difference between the finished size of the object and the size of body part on which it will be worn. A hat that measures 19�� (48.5 cm) around and is worn on a 22″ (56 cm) head has 3″ (7.5 cm) of negative ease.

A beret-type hat might have negative ease at the brim, but a few inches of positive ease in the body of the hat. The extra fabric is what creates its loose, flowing shape, while the tighter brim keeps it fitted to the head.

Hats are a natural for circular knitting (or knitting in the round). This project for circular-knit adult hats offers three brim styles: hemmed, ribbed, and rolled stockinette. Whichever brim you choose, the directions call for shaping the top. Work this hat in plain stockinette stitch in a colorful or fashion yarn, or customize it by working the colorwork pattern included here. But don’t feel tied to those two options — use this hat as a canvas to express yourself.

If you knit the hat on one 16-inch circular needle, you’ll need to switch to double-pointed needles (or one of the other methods) at some point during the crown decreases because the stitches will no longer reach comfortably around the needle. It is easiest to knit hats using the magic-loop method with one long circular needle.

Choose a size

Determine the circumference you want for the hat. Most hats should be knit with negative ease (. Measure around the widest part of the intended wearer’s head and subtract 1⁄2 to 1-1⁄2 inches from that measurement to calculate the hat circumference.

A hemmed brim is not as stretchy as a rolled or ribbed brim, so it’s best not to include too much negative ease when using this hem.

Choose yarn and determine the gauge

Yarn for adult hats can run the gamut from practical to frivolous and fun. If you want a warm winter hat, for example, choose a yarn that is warm and durable, and knit it at a tighter gauge than recommended on the ball band. This results in a denser fabric that better retains heat. If, on the other hand, you are creating a fun accessory, you might choose a fashion yarn that adds a little flair. Because this hat is such a simple shape, it’s a great way to show off variegated or self-striping yarns.

To keep cool but stay warm during winter, you can’t skimp on great outerwear or outfit-making boots. The same goes for cold-weather accessories too: Because for the majority of the season, coats, boots, and, in this case, winter hats do most of the talking when it comes to bundling up while keeping things stylish. In order to break free from your standard winter-outfit formulas—and to keep your looks from looking like, well, everybody else—consider accessorizing functionally and fashionably this season. Here, find four headwear trends not to be missed, and shop 24 of the best winter hats, inspired by the most stylish women on the streets, from New York to Paris.

Buckets and Beyond

After runway debuts at Fendi and Loewe, the winter-ready hand knitted hat took over the streets last February—and this season the ’90s trend has continued to gain momentum. From shaggy faux furs to fuzzy angoras, from shearling to sherpa styles, the winter bucket hat is one of the cutest and coziest accessories of the season.

The ribbed-knit beanie has earned its place as a winter style staple for everyone from downtown urbanites to alpine skiers. New Yorkers might prefer sleek styles in a neutral color palette like black and speckled gray. Meanwhile, a pop of color would bring the perfect amount of joyous street-style-inspired Scandi chic to any drab winter look. And for those who wish to channel a bit of après-ski flair in their daily commute, look no further than one with a floppy, fluffy pom-pom.

The trapper hat is no longer just for the rugged outdoorsman or Elmer Fudd. Not convinced? The trapper has been deemed stylish enough for even the Parisians—in fact a black faux-fur version was spotted on the streets topping off a geometric-print coat, leather pants, and blue ankle booties for the ultimate in warmth and style. Et voilà! Not to mention everyone from classic winter-weather brands to It labels are backing the trapper trend—Heurueh, Kule, and R13 to name just a few. You heard it here first: The trapper is the ultimate winter hat for women this season.

On the tiny Peruvian island of Taquile, a man's worth isn't measured in his ability to hunt or fish, but in his ability to knit.

Alejandro Flores Huatta was born on the 1,300-person island, which is located on the Peruvian side of Lake Titicaca, a three-hour boat ride from the nearest city of Puno. The 67-year-old learned how to knit the iconic chullo (a tall, floppy Andean hat) as a child, with his older brother and grandfather teaching him by using the thorns of a cactus as knitting needles.

"Most of the people learn by looking, watching. Because I don't have a father, my older brother [and grandfather] taught me to knit. So by watching, I learned little by little," he said, speaking through a Quechua translator.

Taquile is famous for its textiles and clothing, and while women weave and tend to the sheep that provide the wool, men are the ones who exclusively produce the island's knitting cap for baby. The chullos are seen as culturally significant, playing a key role in the island's social structure and allowing men to show their creativity while also displaying their marital status, dreams and aspirations – some men even use it to show their mood. It's a tradition that islanders are working hard to preserve.

Residents were relatively cut off from the mainland until the 1950s, and the island's isolation has helped to keep its heritage and way of life intact. Locals abide by the Inca code of "Ama sua, ama llulla, ama qhilla", (Quechua for, "Do not steal, do not lie, do not be lazy"). Taquileans are farmers traditionally; the six island communities take turns to rotate crops of potato, corn, beans and barley in terraces on the mountainsides. They raise sheep, guinea pigs, chickens and pigs on the land and fish in the lake. Tourism kicked off in the 1970s, giving locals a source of income with tens of thousands of visitors drawn to the island annually to tour the villages and surrounding lake. Visitors typically stay with locals in humble, family-run accommodations; lend a hand-harvesting crops; try local specialties like fried trout and potatoes with rice, beans and mint tea; and purchase the island's famous handmade textiles.

Hats reveal men's marital status, dreams and aspirations

In 2005, Taquile's textile art was deemed so valuable that Unesco deemed it an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. Alejandro is one of the seven men on the island recognised as a Master of Textiles, along with the island's president, Juan Quispe Huatta.

The tradition has been around for the better part of 500 years, with roots in the ancient civilisations of the Inca, Pukara and Colla peoples. The Inca in particular, used their headdresses in a similar way to the Taquilean chullo, to display the specific insignia of their particular province – but that’s where the similarities end. The Taquilean chullo and the Inca headdresses look vastly different. The elders of the island tell of the chullo design arriving with the Spanish conquest in 1535, and Alejandro's grandfather passed on stories of the early conquerors wearing similar hats that were white with ear covers, "but not the same patterns or symbols," Alejandro said.

[quickspinner]

MLValentines2k20 12. Be Mine

It was designed like a vintage letterman’s jacket, with white leather sleeves and a black cloth body. L. Couffaine was embroidered on the left breast in electric blue. Kitty Section was plastered across the top of the back in their signature font, complete with the lightning bolts on either side of the name. Below in the center of the back was a large version of Kitty Section’s mask logo, personalized with Luka’s colors and lightning bolt over the right eye. Pink leather lightning bolts with blue stitching were attached to the white sleeves on the shoulders. 

It was incredibly cool and he loved it. 

There was just one thing wrong with it and he really wasn’t sure how to bring it up. 

“What do you think?” Marinette asked as Luka turned the jacket over in his hands. 

“It’s awesome, Marinette,” he said, tracing the lightning bolts on the shoulders. “It…” he hesitated, but he’d always been honest with her and there was no hiding this anyway. “Marinette, it’s amazing, and I love it, but...I’m not sure it’s going to fit, though. It looks a little small.” It looked really small, actually. Which surprised him, because Marinette had his measurements and everything she had ever made him fit perfectly.

“Well…” Marinette began to fidget and looked down. “It’s not actually for you...it’s for me.” 

Luka stared at her for a moment, and looked back to the jacket in his hands. This jacket with his lightning bolt, his colors, his band, his name...was for her to wear? 

Luka suddenly felt the need to sit down. He sank into the deck chair behind him, one hand coming to cover his mouth as the other still held the jacket. Marinette’s jacket. Which she made for herself. With his marks all over it. 

“But I wanted to talk to you before I wore it,” Marinette continued, “Since, you know, well...obviously it...it might give people a certain impression, and I um...I wanted to make sure you were okay with that.” 

Luka was so stunned that he began to see black spots in front of his eyes before Marinette grabbed his shoulder. “Luka, breathe!” 

He sucked in air like a drowning man and shook his head as Marinette worried over him. “I’m all right. Sorry, I’m all right, I promise.” 

“Geeze, Luka. dramatic much?” Marinette grumbled with a sigh. Luka was still doing the math, trying to find any way it could come out differently, but he kept coming up with the same answer.

Luka took a shaky breath. “Marinette, is this...are we...are you asking me to—are you sure?” 

Marinette took a deep breath and nodded. “It is, I’d like us to be, I’m definitely asking you to, and—I’m absolutely sure. I promise. I wouldn’t dare risk hurting you if I wasn’t totally sure.”

Luka stood up and held the jacket out, opened for her. “Can I see it on?”

Marinette’s smile lit up the whole deck. He helped her slip the jacket on, and she did a turn for him. He smiled as she actually walked a short imaginary catwalk away and back. Luka put a hand over his heart as if that would keep it from pounding out of his chest and sat back down, afraid his weak knees would give out on him. “How do I look?” she asked shyly, doing one more turn.

Luka shook his head. “Like a dream come true, and I’m still not sure you’re going to fade away into the mist.” Impulsively he reached a hand out to her; she put hers in it. He half expected his fingers to close on air, but she was still there, warm and real. She came to him and he swallowed as she perched on his knee. 

He saw the mischief spark in her eye and his pulse jumped even before she leaned toward him. He let his eyes fall closed and held very still as she kissed him, firmly but tenderly, slender fingers fluttering along his jaw. 

“Did that feel like a dream?” she teased, nudging his nose with hers before she straightened.

“Yes,” he answered honestly, afraid to move. 

Marinette giggled and he felt her breath on his face as she rested her forehead against his. “Open your eyes, silly boy.” 

“Promise me you’ll still be there if I do?” 

“Always,” she whispered, and it was more beautiful than any song he’d ever played. 

Luka opened his eyes slowly, taking in the blue of her eyes and the curve of her cheek and the softness of her smile. He reached out to catch her around the waist and pull her more fully into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, enveloping him in the smell of leather, as he hugged her tightly to him. 

“So...now everyone will know I’m yours,” Marinette said, pushing his shoulders lightly so that he would let her pull back a little. “Can I ask you to wear something for me?” 

Luka would have worn anything she asked him to in that moment, up to and including the fanciest wedding dress she could find, but she held up a simple cord necklace with a round pendant engraved with her monogram M. Luka bowed his head so she could slip it on him, and he felt its small weight come to rest against his chest with a light thump. 

Luka caught her hand and kissed her fingertips, and then leaned up to kiss her lips, cupping her soft cheek in his hand. “Thank you,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he added, “For finally claiming me. I’ve been yours for ages anyway.” 

“Thank you for waiting,” Marinette said softly, laying her head down on his shoulder. “I’m so grateful that you decided to be mine even when I couldn’t be yours. I’m so grateful you’re still here.”

Luka sighed and relaxed back into the chair, feeling the pendant against his chest and her weight in his arms. Soon enough someone would find them and there would be screaming and cheers and teasing, but he was grateful for this quiet moment, just the two of them, to take it all in. Mine, he thought, squeezing lightly, and there was a part of him that thought maybe he should be ashamed of thinking that way, because Marinette belonged to nobody, but...well. That part could stick it just this once. As much as she could give herself to any one person when the fate of Paris rested on her shoulders, she had chosen him. He was hers, body and soul, whether she truly understood it or not, and she was sitting in his lap plastered with his name and logo by her own hands, so...maybe just this once it was okay. 

Mine, he thought again, burying his face in her hair. Just be mine when you can. That’s enough.

[steelhipdesign]

I’ve been waiting to make these for a long time.  Finally had all the ingredients and a bit of bravery.  What many people don’t realise is making something new is always a risk, possibly ruining expensive supplies.  Fortunately these turned out well.   A simple glass locket filled with a vintage pocket watch spring, tiny metallic "planet" spheres, a half round golden "sun" all fixed in place with clear resin. It makes for a subtle yet intriguing piece of jewelry.  Understated.

The tiny ones are seriously small - the lockets are under an inch wide.  I've attempted some reality to the planets: Mercury is tiny and silver, Venus earth's sister planet is gold and the same size as Earth, Earth is silver, Mars smaller than Earth and copper. The giants start with Jupiter large in copper, Saturn slightly smaller than Jupiter and silver tone, Uranus is gold, Neptune is smaller and silver and finally, Pluto, tiny and metallic black.  I can’t keep any accuracy in relation to the size of the sun - it’s seriously huge in comparison.   

The larger one, just over an inch wide, was gold but arrived very scratched.  Instead of it sitting in my pile of rejects I decided to “distress” the patina to a brushed copper with the original gold poking through in places.  It works.  It also has a very light dusting of holographic glitter as a star field.  

If there is the demand I thought about customising these.  With a birth date, time and place I can generate a natal sun chart - where the planets were at the time of their birth. If there is serious clumping I might have to take some artistic license when positioning all the planets. It would require a 2 week build time for supplies and for the resin layers to cure.  

If you are looking for a masculine gift I can put them on a black rubber or leather cord.  

[violentviolette]

If you don't mind sharing or its not too personal what jewelry do you wear and why do you wear it? I'm pagan myself and I wear a lot of jewelry for ritualistic reasons so I love finding out about other people's.

no worries anon I dont mind!

I don't wear too much cause I get a bit finicky about bulky stuff but rn I have

a pair of opal stud earrings and a silver chain bracelet for my wife. she bought me the earrings (opals are my favorite stone) and the bracelet is from a set that matches a chain necklace shes worn since she was like 14. I like to think of that bracelet/necklace as something that binds us together and keeps us linked.

I also have a black ribbon that I found in the literal street during a specific time and it just kinda felt Right so I tied him around my wrist for [redacted]. its my newest piece and its maybe a little silly but it's come to mean a lot to me

then I have an ankle bracelet that's just a piece of black leather cording. I wear a lot of jewelry for my significant others and when I was dating my ex bf I used to make ankle bracelets out of different colors he picked out and would wear them to represent our relationship. but after we broke up I felt like I needed to undo that ritual and that connection so now I have this one which is mine and for me so it kinda rewrites that habit and makes it mine again.

and finally I wear an upside-down pentagram as a necklace. this is probably my most important piece. I decided to start wearing it daily as a reminder to live my life in a way that makes belial proud. that I am myself first, no one gets to tell me who I am or decide what I do. I am free to be my most authentic self and I will revel in him. I have no gods and no masters, my agency is my own and no one will ever take that from me again. its brought me a lot of strength and helped me keep myself centered. its my touchstone back to the reality of the person I want to be

**edit** lol rip me i forgot about my wedding ring akshskalsjd

but yea I hate thick bulky rings cause I have very short fingers so my band is really thin gold and isn't a circle, it comes to a soft v shape like a tiara. thats partly because my engagement ring is round (altho I dont wear that daily only on special occasions because its big and bulky and vintage) so it sits more neatly against it and partly because it looks like sailor moons tiara and I couldn't pass up that opportunity because im a giant weeb lmfaoo

[sunnetherlands]

how to soften leather cord | Sun Enterprises

Softening leather cord can be achieved using a few different methods. Here are some approaches you can try:

Conditioning with Leather Conditioner: Leather conditioner helps to soften and moisturize leather, making it more pliable. Apply a small amount of leather conditioner to a soft cloth and rub it into the leather cord in a circular motion. Allow it to absorb for a few hours or overnight, then wipe off any excess conditioner.

Using Oil: Oils such as neatsfoot oil, coconut oil, or olive oil can also help soften leather. Apply a small amount of oil to a soft cloth and rub it into the leather cord. Allow the oil to penetrate the leather for several hours or overnight, then wipe off any excess.

Warm Water Soak: Submerge the leather cord in warm water for a few minutes to soften it. Be careful not to use hot water, as this can damage the leather. After soaking, gently stretch and flex the cord to help soften it further. Allow it to air dry completely before using.

Steam: Hold the leather cord over a steaming pot or kettle for a few minutes to allow the steam to penetrate the leather. Be careful not to get too close to the steam, as it can cause burns. After steaming, gently stretch and flex the cord to soften it further.

Repeated Flexing: Simply flexing and bending the leather cord repeatedly can help to soften it over time. This method may take longer than others, but it can be effective, especially if combined with conditioning or oiling.

Commercial Softening Products: There are also commercial leather softening products available that are specifically designed to soften and condition leather. Follow the instructions provided with the product for best results.

Before trying any of these methods, it's a good idea to test them on a small, inconspicuous area of the leather cord to ensure that they won't cause any damage or discoloration. Additionally, keep in mind that while these methods can help to soften leather, they may not completely transform a stiff or rigid leather cord into a very soft one, especially if the leather is of poor quality.

[arktosart]

https://www.etsy.com/listing/861522872/vintage-jade-pendant-round-jade-pendant?ref=shop_home_active_1&frs=1

Vintage jade pendant, round jade pendant with filigree, dragon design, unique Chinese, carved jade pendant on suede leather cord

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Sleepless in Zadash: A Critical Role Fanfic

So...I know this is @essek-week, but who better to appreciate Essek than Caleb? Honestly for today I was half tempted to just reblog my Bakery AU fic Labor of Love (which you can read on AO3, all about a buisnessman!Essek falling in love with the owner of a cute magic bakery). But you know, I had this kicking around in my WIP document, and it fit with the Wine Concept, so I hope you enjoy it! 

All I have to say besides this is...there was only one bed

Read the collection on AO3

Caleb sighed as he watched his phone slowly but surely climb up from a measly 2% to 5%. His back was nearly plastered to the wall of the column, squeezed awkwardly between two rows of seats. Crowds of equally stranded passengers moved throughout the airport, trying to find some sort of slice of area to set up for the long wait. Based on the snowstorm that continued to rage outside, frosting the large windows and icing the wings of the planes, Caleb guessed they would all be there for some time. 

His phone began buzzing and flashing, Nott’s face flashed with her teeth in a wide expressive smile. Caleb picked up the phone. 

“Hallo,” Caleb answered. 

“Caleb! Are you alright!” Nott’s shrill tone went straight to his heart. “Where are you right now?” 

“We stopped in Zadash, I was supposed to get my connection here but it isn’t looking like that’s going to happen any time soon,” Caleb said with a wince. He looked over to the Dwendalian Air desk, which was in the process of being mobbed by irate customers. “The desk is going to announce the information at some point if no one murders them.” 

“What the fuck!” Beauregard’s voice echoed from the background. 

“That really is unfortunate,” Caduceus chimed in. 

“Are you going to be able to get somewhere to sleep?” Fjord asked worriedly. 

“I figured I would just rough it at the airport,” Caleb said, curling his legs towards his chest before flexing them out. “I’ve slept in worse places.” 

“We’ll come get you!” Nott nearly shouted into his ear, Caleb had to momentarily move the phone away from his ears. Someone sitting in a nearby seat shot him a dirty look, obviously having been startled out of sleep, before getting up and moving in a huff. Caleb gave them an apologetic look before refocusing on the chatter on the other end of the phone. 

“It’ll be like a super fun road trip!” Jester chirped. 

“No, no. That’s like three whole days, and very dangerous because of the snow. I’m sure we’ll be out of here by tomorrow anyways,” Caleb promised. 

“Well that fucking blows. Do definitely try to get a hotel or something man, I’m sure they have to give you something for the layover,” Beau said practically. 

“He probably won’t, because it’s Dwendalian Air, and life’s a fucking nightmare!” Jester sang cheerfully, and Caleb couldn’t help his grin. 

“He could kill them,” Yasha’s soft voice offered. “The people behind the desk.” 

“No, that definitely would not work under any circumstances,” Fjord pointed out. 

“It was a joke, mostly,” Yasha said, her quiet laugh making Caleb smile. 

“Alright, I’ll let you know where I am and what is going on,” Caleb promised. 

“Bye Caleb!” “Bye Cay-Cay!” “Good luck!” 

Caleb hung up the phone, tapping on the cracked screen. 10%. Caleb sighed, and slid further down on the wall. He continued to watch the waves of people, mostly their feet considering his angle. He liked counting and organizing, it was something that came natural and was always soothing despite the situation. Heels, sneakers, winter boots, light-up and glitter, black and brown, a myriad of types, black oxfords as shiny as a new copper--

A wallet dropped behind the oxfords. Caleb ripped his phone and cord out from the wall and rushed to grab the wallet. 

“Hey! Wait!” Caleb barely managed, breathless in his panic. He couldn’t imagine being stuck at an airport, and losing your wallet on top of that. Just that panic alone propelled Caleb forward. “Your wallet!” 

Black-shiny-oxfords turned around and it hit Caleb in the gut. He was the most handsome man Caleb had ever laid eyes on in his whole life.  He was drow, like many of the professors who guest lectured at Soltryce University from Roshanna College, but had the distinct pleasure of being probably the most obviously attractive person Caleb had ever seen before. He was all high aristocratic cheekbones and delicate silver eyes and curly coiffed styled hair.  He was wearing a meticulously pressed black suit tailored to match his whole aesthetic, like he would drift from the airport and onto a fashion magazine cover. 

He patted his pocket, before holding out a leather-gloved hand. He plucked his wallet from Caleb’s hand delicately. 

“Thank you so much,” shiny-oxfords said with a smile that made Caleb feel like he was having heart palpitations. His voice was smooth with a lilting Xhorhassian accent that added such a depth of flavor to him, and there was something so desirable and timeless about him...as if he were a vintage of wine that never went out of style. It poured over him like it was worth 100 gold a glass. "If I lost this, I would have been in some trouble." 

“Uh, yes, of course,” Caleb cringed, and shiny-oxfords immediately pulled up out of the way of an orc yanking his entire family’s carry on’s on his back. His touch, even through his glove, had Caleb jumping like he had been shocked. “Sorry, sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” shiny-oxfords said eyeing the hurrying family with distaste before looking back at Caleb, “which flight were you supposed to be on?” 

“Connection to Trostenwald,” Caleb said, managing to collect himself and hoping beyond all hope he wasn’t too obvious in his desire to drink this fashionable, beautiful stranger’s presence down for all it was worth. 

“Same,” shiny-oxfords said, looking at his phone. "Though I was hoping to make it to Nicodranas from there. Just got an alert, flight cancelled."

"Oh, sheisse," Caleb groaned, looking at his own phone. The same notification had popped up on his. 

"Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?" Shiny-oxfords asked worriedly. 

"I was just going to...you know sleep here," Caleb said with a helpless shrug. 

"Well, I have enough International Inn points and I made a reservation to stay the night at the Pillow Trove when it looked like things were turning sour. Consider this a thank you gift from me." 

"Oh, you don't have to," Caleb tried to argue. 

"No, I do not," shiny-oxfords said simply. Caleb stared at shiny-oxfords. "But it is the right thing to do considering you kept me from getting arrested as a Xhorhassian national at a Dwendalian border without a passport."

"Oh," Caleb said dumbly. 

"I am Essek Theylss," he said, holding out his hand like his name meant something and Caleb took it dumbfounded. 

"Caleb Widogast," he introduced. 

"It is a pleasure," he said as if it were easy being the classiest person in this place. "Let's get our bags." 

They had to wait an obscenely long amount of time to get their bags. And by the time they did, Caleb was perfectly fine to skip the line for the dinner ticket that he was sure wouldn't even work. They managed to get out of the airport, Caleb waving over a cab from the dozens that crowded the stand like birds huddling together against the snow. He opened the door for Essek after they loaded their bags into the back, eliciting another quirked half-grin from him that had Caleb flushed like he had downed a whole bottle. Caleb had only ever been to the Pillow Trove once, on a weekend in one room with the rest of the Mighty Nein. He wasn't proud to say that they got absolutely wasted on the liquor and cheap wine in the mini fridge, and when you were that drunk it was easy to feel like you belonged anywhere. However while being totally sober he knew he was absolutely out of place here amongst the crystal chandeliers and marble floors. 

The lady at the front desk gave Caleb an incredulous once over, before focusing squarely on Essek. Drow were rare...and generally still unwelcome, but considering how much his clothes nearly stank of money she put on her best congenial smile. 

"Reservation for Theylss," Essek said, flipping out a black credit card and an ID. The lady looked over the ID long and hard, though Essek continued to smile placidly. Eventually, she seemed appeased, though Caleb fought his glare. 

"Of course," she said, typing out very quickly on her computer. "We have a one bedroom available on the fifteenth floor. It comes with a pull out." 

"That will work," Essek stated before looking over at Caleb. "Sound fine to you?" 

"Yes, better than fine," Caleb said, hitching his duffle bag more firmly on his shoulder. He had balanced his messenger bag on the other, while holding Essek's rolling bag. Essek flashed another grateful look at him. 

"Very well, two keys please," Essek asked, and though it looked like it physically hurt the woman she coughed up the two keycards. 

They were down the hallway and up the elevator. Caleb counted the doors as they passed until they finally made it to the room. The room itself was spacious and well furnished, with a queen sized bed, a love seat and the pull out by the window with a small round table. The window itself was wide, and gave a beautiful view of the city that was still being pelted with snow. Caleb dropped his bags on the door side of the room, nestled by the closet. 

“I will be happy to take the pullout,” Caleb offered weakly, turning to his new roommate who smiled in an obvious attempt to placate him.  

“Nonsense. I only need to trance for four hours, you take the bed,” Essek said with a wave of his hand. “A Theylss always returns a favor, if I didn’t my family would have my head.”

“Then let me at least buy you something downstairs...dinner perhaps?” Caleb asked, surprised at his own daring. “And a good bottle of wine for the trouble.” 

“We can split the bottle then,” Essek said, his smile this time showing fangs. “And I doubt that any of this will be trouble for me. Come along then, Mr. Widogast. Dinner, wine, and then bed.”    

Caleb really did like the sound of that. 

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, lana0605!

Today, we wish @lana0605 a Happy Birthday! We hope you’re having a wonderful day so far, full of all your favourite things! To kick things off right, @ally147writes has written a story just for you!

AN: Happy Birthday, @lana0605! I hope you’ll enjoy this little bit of Prom Couple!Everlark, though to be fair, it’s more about how they got to the prom, rather than the prom itself. I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway :)

Rated G. Unbeta’d - all errors are my own.

Prom.

 The word rings in Katniss’ head, echoing over and over like a taunting whisper. She glances at the clock in the corner of her room, careful not to upset the loose, wavy curls Prim spent hours setting for her. Almost seven. A shiver runs through her. He’ll be here to pick her up soon.  

 Senior prom never registered on her radar. She’d have been perfectly happy letting the occasion slip her by. Girls like her, ones with blood caked under their fingernails, a truckload of responsibilities rammed on them about twenty years too early, and a wardrobe of threadbare flannel shirts, ripped jeans, and their late father’s hunting jacket, don’t do prom.

 And they don’t do prom on Peeta freaking Mellark’s arm, either.

When he stuttered out his proposal two weeks ago, if she wanted to go with him — as in, with him. With him! — maybe, if she wasn’t already going with anyone else, too much panic flared within her to say no. As soon as she blurted out the untidy, ineloquent Okay, the smile that stretched Peeta’s lips had enough wattage behind it to light an entire city, full and wide and real enough to dissuade her of any notion that he might be asking her as a joke.

 There was no way she could back out on him, no matter how much she kinda-sorta wanted to. Especially not after he started spending their shared study period in the library with her, getting over the stutter he only ever seemed to have around her and telling stories and cheesy jokes that somehow always managed to draw a laugh and a smile.

 The dress, she found at the local Goodwill for twenty bucks. A vintage wedding dress, of all things, though she refuses to think of the connotations of wearing such a garment; cream-coloured, tea-length, boatneck neckline, with a pretty lace overlay. The details don’t mean as much to Katniss as they seemed to the effusive woman who sold it to her, but it was the only thing in there that fit her off the rack, and she thinks she looks nice in it. As nice as she can manage, anyway, with her sharp angles and menacing scowl.

 Her makeup is a light sweep of one of Prim’s blushers, some concealer around her dark circles and the stubborn spot on her chin, a swipe of tinted lip balm, and a little mascara. Money doesn’t stretch far enough in her pocket to reach things like eyeshadow palettes, contour powders, or fancy foundations, but her world functions fine without them, as does her face.

 The shoes are her mother’s, from when she was a teen: a simple pair of white heels that shimmer in the right light. The heels are so tiny Katniss has no trouble walking around in them. Even her toes are painted, for what she thinks might be the first time in her life. Prim wouldn’t let her have her toes visible without something on them. Now, they’re a soft gold colour, barely metallic, only visible if you stare.

 All put together, it doesn’t look as bad as she thought it might, and it’s much more comfortable than she was expecting, too. But most importantly, she looks like herself. If Peeta was expecting to take a Cashmere or a Glimmer on his arm, all tall and statuesque and designer-clad, he should have asked one of them.

 A doorknock ripples through the house. All the tension in Katniss’ body seizes and shatters at once.

 “He’s here!” Prim screeches from the kitchen. “Wait in there, Katniss. I’ll let him in.”

 Katniss frowns. “Why can’t I come out?”

 “It’s meant to be a surprise!” Prim calls back, with all the sass a fourteen-year-old can muster. “Just a minute, all right?”

 “Fine.” She sighs and plonks herself back on the edge of her bed. The thud of her heart rings louder than the muffled opening of the front door and the muted exchange of greetings. Then footsteps, one set measured, the other almost tapdancing.

 “You can come out now,” Prim sings.

 There’s no good reason for her to be nervous. Peeta’s the one who asked her, and it’s not like she even wanted to go in the first place. She’s got nothing riding on tonight, no expectations to dash or exceed.

 Still, her hand trembles, just a little bit, as she twists her door handle and slips into the hallway. A small, beaded purse she borrowed from her friend, Madge, is tucked under her arm — God, she hopes she’s not sweating too hard.

 The closer she gets, the more worlds she can make out of Peeta’s murmured responses to Prim’s rapid-fire questions. When she rounds the corner, she catches a peek of his wayward curls and indulgent grin as he speaks to Prim. Coupled with the sharp black tux he’s wearing, she swears her heart skips a beat at the sight of him.

 But she must make some sort of noise, because as soon as she’s in the narrow doorway, Peeta drops his sentence and his jaw. Prim scuttles to the sink and giggles to herself.

 “Wow,” Peeta breathes, looking at her in a way no one ever has or ever will again, she’s sure. “Katniss… you look —”

 “— Thanks.” She ducks her chin before he can finish the sentence, her cheeks hot as a supernova. “You look great, too.” It’s an understatement, but it’ll do.

 “Thanks.” But he’s still staring at her. “Really, though. You’re beautiful. Completely. Radiant, even.”

 She tucks a loose strand behind her ear, just for something to do. “Thank you.”

 “Oh! Um, I got you this?” He says it like a question as he fumbles with a small box she didn’t notice in his hands before. “Prim would only give me hints about the colour of your dress, but I think I got it right…”

 “You asked Prim about my dress?”

 “I didn’t think you’d tell me about it,” he says, smiling. He hands her the box, brushing his fingers along her own. “Isn’t it tradition or something, to keep your dress secret?”

 “I would have told you, if you asked.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Do you like it?” he asks as she opens it, revealing a delicate corsage of cream and golden silk flowers on a leather cord. Peeta lifts it out of the box and, with gentle fingers, affixes it around her wrist with a flick of the arrow-shaped clasp.

 “It’s lovely,” she murmurs. She glances up at him and finds that same dopey grin on his face. “Really, thank you.”

 “Photos!” A flash blinds her for a split second before another one goes off. Peeta’s hand tightens around hers.

 “Prim!”

 “What? Mom asked me to take pictures.”

 “You got them, all right? Put that thing away, please?”

 “Fine. But this first one… wow.”

 Katniss rolls her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

 “Well, he’s got your hand in his, you’re wearing a wedding dress, he’s in a suit, and you’re staring at each other with gooey eyes. Just looks like a different sort of picture, if you ask me.”

 “No one did.”

 “You ready to go?” Peeta pipes up beside her, but the spark in his eye tells her he’s having way too much fun.

 “Yes, please.” She does one last rummage around in her borrowed purse, making sure her phone and bank card are exactly where she left them. “Prim, you’ll be okay ‘til Mom gets back, won’t you?”

 Prim all but shoves her out the front door. “I’ll be fine, Katniss. See? Door’s locked, and Mom gets off at nine.”

 “You’ll call Gale if anything happens?”

 “You know I will. Have fun!” Before Katniss can say anything else, the door slams in front of her nose.

 “She’s a sweet kid,” Peeta says, smiling some more. She doesn’t mind.

 Katniss lets out a chuckle. “She definitely has her moments.”

 “My brothers are the same.” He nods towards his car, parked a little off-kilter in their driveway. “Come on, we should get going.”

 The car ride over is quieter than she imagined it being, seeing as how Peeta can barely keep his mouth shut around her now, but she appreciates it. It’s enough to gather her thoughts and steel her nerves. Even with Peeta by her side, she’s still not sure she wants to present herself to their entire year group for public scrutiny. But when she catches Peeta staring at her out the corner of his eye at least a dozen times, she can’t help but smile a little bit, and it’s like maybe her nerves don’t matter so much if she’s sharing them with him.

 When they find a carpark and pull in, Peeta keys off the ignition but makes no move to get out of the car.

 “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” he asks her softly.

 “Not about you,” she says, revelling in the half-smile he graces her with this time.

 “Not what I meant.”

 “It’ll be fine. Besides, we can always ditch and get milkshakes if it sucks, right?”

 He laughs and reaches across the console, taking her hand and twining their fingers. She’s kind of surprised she lets him, and even more surprised by how good it feels to be this close to him.

 He meets her eyes, all serious now, and squeezes her hand. “I’m, uh… really glad you came with me tonight, Katniss.”

 She squeezes back. “I… I’m glad, too.” And she means every bit of it.

[lacasuarina]

This desperation Dislocation Separation, condemnation Revelation in temptation Isolation, desolation Let it go

And so fade away To let it go And so fade away To let it go Oh now, and so to fade away

I'm wide awake

Bad, U2, 1984

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