#i like to be semi-symmetrical :)

[cobra-creampuff]

think my next tattoo will be kenaz on my shoulder to match the symbol of hades on the other one

[alchemistc]

She's not ...entirely sure this is a good idea.

Even as she raises her hand to knock she's second guessing herself.

The thing is - the thing is there aren't a lot of people in her life who don't take one look at her and make assumptions. She's petite, she's blonde, her face is eerily symmetrical.

When people see her, they think they know her.

Cap is great. The sort of man she wishes she'd known more of, growing up. The kind of man who stood in front of the entire crew and doled out cleaning duties and cooking duties to his men and didn't blink an eye handing her inventory, but pulled aside a guy six years into the job to inform him that if he made a snide comment about having to do Mona's job again he'd be looking for a new station. Respectfully.

The kind of man who let his crew cut loose and created a kind of family behind those bay doors, but didn't take their shit when they got out of hand

The kind of man who looked at her and just saw another firefighter.

Cap is great.

It's just...

Well, the guys don't go to Cap for advice, and she knows once upon a time that kind of hurt his feelings, but this feels like one of those things his husband is better equipped to handle.

("It's because he's older, right?" Cap had asked once, failing miserably at holding in a pout while the team around him demolished the roast he'd obviously spent hours prepping the night before.

Fred had still had half a loaf of bread in his mouth when he explained that talking to their boss about their sex lives just felt like an HR nightmare.

"So you go to my boyfriend instead?")

Mona's still considering turning heel and leaving the way she came when she hears whistling around the side of the house, and before she can make a break for it, Cap's husband is rounding the corner of the porch, winding his hands in a grease rag, and he's catching sight of her, raising a brow, slowing his steps.

He must see the panicked look in her eye.

"I can turn back around and pretend you were never here," he murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and Mona feels every ounce of flight just seep from her bones.

Yeah. Okay. She gets why the guys all think he's the one to go to when they've royally fucked something up.

There's an ease to him, a gentleness that she knows for a fact was hard fought.

"No, I..."

The brow ticks up a little more.

"I just found a new sour Evan won't touch with a ten foot pole, if you're gonna be here a minute," Tommy says, and any resistance left vanishes. Mona's been to enough of Cap's barbecues to know his husband always has the best beer in the county.

"Yeah, okay."

Tommy crosses the length of the porch and glances glumly at his greasy hands. "You mind grabbing the door? Evan throws a fit every time I leave fingerprints behind."

She's interrupting his day, she realizes. He's a weird sort of semi-retired - flies for the county sometimes during wildfire season, flips classic cars from their huge ass garage around the side of the house, spends a month teaching courses to new pilots every year out of state and it's always the crankiest they ever get to see Cap. People charter his chopper, sometimes, although lately it seems like he only keeps the thing around so he can take Cap up to watch spectacular sunsets because they're the most sickeningly perfect couple she's ever met.

Mona grabs the door. Shuffles in ahead of him when he shows no signs of moving, and makes her way down the hall to the kitchen because she's been here enough times by now not to feel as weird about how welcoming they both were right away.

He uses his rag to pull open the sink cabinet and grab the heavy duty soap from underneath to wash his hands.

The scent rolls over her in waves, throwing her back about fifteen years to her parents tiny little apartment over the shop, her father's rough and callused hands soaking under shitty water pressure, the grease under his fingernails he could never quite scrape clean.

Tommy tips a chin at the fridge. "Grab me one, too? Bottle openers on the side."

There's an ease to the way he says it, like this is a normal occurrence, like Mona's ever stepped foot across the threshold for anything that wasn't a station-wide get together. She supposes for him it probably is. At least a few of the guys act like he's their dad, wandering into the house without even bothering to knock, gathering around him when he shows up at the station like lost little puppies.

He's used to it.

He hums his thank you when she sets one of the bottles on the island beside him, and Mona glances around to distract herself while he's drying his hands.

A couple dozen pictures of Cap and Tommy, in various stages of their lives.

The fridge is plastered with pictures. A couple she recognizes as Cap's sister and brother-in-law, two adorable kids at their knees. A guy standing next to a kid wearing a cap and gown and leaning on two crutches. An older man she's lovingly heard Cap refer to as basically his dad - the reason they eat better at work than anyone has the right to. A couple she'd seen at the wedding, standing with a kid she remembers Cap staring at like he was seeing a ghost. There's so many people that she doesn't know, but - there's the station pictures too. Candids of the boys when they were living in the Captain's house, back when Cap first got here, when she'd still been a year and a half from graduating high school and didn't have a fucking clue what she wanted to do with her life. The Christmas that Fred had cursed them with the q-word and Tommy had spent the day in the station kitchen putting together a meal they'd all stuck around to eat after shift despite the exhaustion seeping into their bones, all of A shift crammed together around a tiny wobbly table to squeeze into the picture.

She gets stuck on the picture of the two of them in hard hats, building what she's pretty sure is the wrap around porch she's snuck a few cigarettes on when the house gets a little overwhelming. There's something about the way they're looking at each other that makes her want to cry, a little.

Fuck.

Damnit.

Tommy leans over to tap the picture with a grin. "We had a blowout fight the night before our buddy took this picture," he says, the deep grooves of his smile stretched wide across his face. "I'd left my job and sold my house six months earlier to chase him across the country and he was convinced if he didn't find a way to turn every half-thought-out desire of mine into a reality that I was gonna vanish in the night. He bought the lumber without telling me and I came home to him and his best friend ripping out the stairs to the front door."

Mona's instantly drawn in.

He makes them sound like a train wreck.

If she's got the math right, that was her senior year. She remembers seeing them around town and thinking they were annoyingly sweet. She remembers her mom baking Tommy a casserole for the excuse of getting all the gossip about the Captain's mysterious paramour so she had the upper hand at her book club that weekend.

Tommy taps another. The two of them under a pergola, the expressions on their faces so disgustingly smitten Mona remembers wanting to blow a raspberry in the middle of the ceremony. She'd been so convinced she'd never let herself be so fucking dependent on another person for her happiness.

"He kept it a secret that he'd invited my father to the wedding until the night before. I spent most of my night with a punching bag instead of Evan." He points out another photo from the wedding. "The photographer tried to murder me when she saw my knuckles. Evan could barely fit the ring over my finger."

"Who snitched?" Mona asks, narrowing her eyes, and Tommy grins, huffs a laugh. He gestures vaguely at her face.

"You've got the look," he tells her, which doesn't really explain a whole lot. "And none of Evan's crew ever makes their first visit anything but love life issues."

"It could be something else," Mona argues, gesturing with her beer, and one of his brows ticks up. "It's not, but it could be."

"You want something to eat? Evan's been experimenting with cakes again, and the red velvet white chocolate escaped the discards."

"Is my so called look that bad?"

He grins. "Mostly I'm looking for an excuse for cake before noon."

Christ, he's good at this. It's actually a little eerie, how quickly he's set her at ease. It's been over a year and the guys still call her prickly when they think she can't hear them, but she never calls them out on it because they're not wrong. It takes her forever to warm up to people.

"Is that how this usually works? You butter us up with Cap's food and get us to spill our guts?"

He's already digging plates from a cabinet next to the stove. She can't see his expression, but she can picture the grin on his face. "Usually they raid my fridge and put their feet up on my coffee table before I've fully registered that they're here. It's sort of a novelty to get to act like a host in my own home."

That checks out, if she's being honest. They're all a bunch of rabid animals who've been emboldened by Cap's open door policy and his infectious smile and his incredibly hot and talented husband. She's never quite sure if the guys want to be him or screw him - not that Tommy's ever looked twice at anyone who wasn't Cap.

"I think I'm broken," Mona admits, the words coming out in a rush, her eyes on the dutch oven tucked under one of the wide kitchen windows.

Tommy slides a slice of fucking delicious looking cake her way and takes a swig of his beer. Waits.

Mona reaches for the fork and spills her guts.

---

"Oh, hey Mo," Cap says, stumbling his way over the threshold, eyes lighting on his husband and his expression going gooey.

Tommy broke into the rack of Banquet's an hour ago and Mona's pretty sure she's one with the couch. It's a good couch. When she'd told Tommy so twenty minutes ago there'd been a gleam in his eye she didn't understand.

She's still a little too buzzed to worry about the fact that she's oozing into the cushions and emotionally wrecked. She hasn't cried in front of another human being in at least six years. Tommy's probably a wizard, or something.

"Everything good?" Cap asks, and she knows that they've got a sort of agreement - unless Tommy thinks something is gonna affect the work, whatever Tommy talks about with them doesn't reach Cap's ears.

"Men," Mona huffs, and Cap pauses, shoots another look into the living room.

"Yeah. Men."

"No Cap. Men," she repeats, and he nods, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

"Oh. Men," he enunciates, and Mona feels the scowl on her face grow wider when the two of them share a sappy look. It's super fucking inconvenient to be surrounded by the proof of true fucking love when she's trying to convince herself she's already too jaded to find it. "If you wanna stay for dinner I can tell you the story of the time Tommy tried to leave me because he thought he could make my decisions for me."

Even Tommy's scowl is sappy as hell. It's gross. Shes having a hard time convincing herself it's not the best thing she's ever seen.

She tips her neck against the back of the couch to glance up at him. "Who snitched?"

Cap's laugh filters through the room, and right across from her, where the whole world and Mona can see, Tommy's expression goes warm and vulnerable, like the sound has soothed a few decades of wounds. "Word of advice? Never leave Harry with a secret and a crowded room."

[sandraharissa]

Some cool Powder/Jinx design details:

1) The very noticeable, very badly cut bang that highlights that her/Vi/someone else (likely Powder herself) cuts her hair to prevent it from covering up her eye. Which then ends up growing out fully and covers up her right eye completely, making her resemble Silco. I love this implication that there’s clumsy but determined attempts at preventing the bang from growing, like it represents that there’s clumsy but determined attempts at preventing insanity from seeping in.

2) The changing eye color. It goes from this grey color when she’s ‘unremarkable’ to blue and then pink, both colors representing her trauma and how it colors her view of the world/life. Blue for the explosion and pink for the pink bullets. As a person grows older it’s possible that their eye color could change slightly like going from grey to blue but the color still represents hextech/arcane and its impact on her life. The pink is directly caused by shimmer and also represents its impact on her life. It also alludes to Silco who’s the shimmer dealer and who’s got a glowing red eye that’s very close to the pink eye that Jinx gets.

3) The tattoos and their colors also represent the trauma. Blue clouds for the arcane explosion and in s2 likely pink bullets for her minigun ammunition. To me it’s also reminiscent of Silco’s scar, it’s wearing your trauma on display.

4) Braids reflecting her mental state. Again, as Powder she had a simple, relatively short and straight braid. Based on the reddit QnA she’d have this poorly done, skewed to one side braid as little Jinx, cos Silco didn’t know how to braid hair. With her later in life taking the look of the skewed braid and making it intentionally her hairstyle, making it symmetrical and also longer, nicer. More polished with more jewelry/bolts in there. Kinda highlighting that immediately after the trauma she’d be at her lowest but that later in life she attempts to keep her life together.

5) I love that Silco braiding Jinx’s hair is semi-canon now cos I always loved the image, braiding these long-ass braids really conveys visually how effort and time consuming taking care of Jinx is. It also indirectly confirms that Vi must have braided her hair before, keeping it straight and by implication keeping her sane.

6) I also wonder what’s the motivation for the hairstyle. What would make sense to me is that if for Silco’s character it represents how much he has to take care of her then for Jinx it would represent how attention seeking and love-starved she is, right? So maybe she splits the braid in two and starts growing it out as much as she can in order to get more time/attention from Silco? It strikes me as smth little Powder/Jinx would absolutely do. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but I also used to think that about the concept of Silco braiding her hair in general.

7) They changed Jinx’s design to look more punk-like, which makes her fit the world more. Zaun’s aesthetics/fashion are partially borrowed from the 80s working class punk subculture.

8) An X on her outfit for jinX, similarly to how Mylo had an M with a crown in 'Mylo' on his outfit. Both of them also already had X's on their outfits as kids. Kinda how s2 will likely have Vi wearing Claggor’s glasses. Each sister somewhere on their outfit having a reference to the brother who was more like them.

[yomogi-mogi-mochi]

Unnecessarily Convoluted Analysis of TWST Dorm Architecture

Putting that Art History degree to use 💪 I am getting my Masters in art history, so I am like semi qualified?? to do this. Tried my best with some of the dorms since some don't have an explicit cultural/architectural parallel irl. And obviously lots of liberties taken since I'm sure the people at Disney were not going for historical accuracy

Masterlist here

Much of this analysis can from my Spolia fic (Malleus x Light Fae MC)

Diasmonia: Early Gothic

Gothic- but early gothic. It's got a few flying buttresses, indicative of technology in later gothic movements- but in combination to the lower ceilings (lower than later gothic), fewer levels (celestory, triforium, doric columns, and shorter windows makes me think it's early gothic (more towards Norman architecture/Sens Cathedral), because it's a lot simpler and less technologically developed than high gothic (larger windows, rose windows, higher and pointier style, flying buttresses, more decorative stuff like Corinthian columns and stained glass). Still, I think the Fae would be been more concerned with its structural integrity against the waves of time- therefore gargoyles become a very prominent symbol in protecting this eternity and preservation of architecture since it basically prevents rain/weather from eating away at the building.

There's some interesting symbolism with Malleus' fixation with gargoyles, but I'm sure you can make that connection on your own based on what's out in Chapter 7 and how he reacts to both Lilia's and MC'S impending goodbyes.

Gothic was actually a term used by the French to demean the style, since it was seen as more 'savage' and 'lower' than classical architecture- which is symmetrical, solid, and values very literal and realistic (albeit idealized) characterization. Gothic architecture in contrast is a lot more airy, focuses on light and windows, and values more allegorical representations, which is why it resonated so well with the religious ruler and monarchies because they were able to not-so-subtly point to their influence and power in every single way without it being in your face all the time.

Because of this very stank contrast, it was labeled as "gothic" because people were criticizing it to be "savage" and "unkept". The goths were painted this way because they were mainly responsible for Rome's downfall, leading to the dark ages. Regardless of the French ruthlessly roasting the goths, this type of design flourished after the dark ages because technology was beginning to be advanced once more, and materials were more readily available.

My theory would be that the fae began to first develop this architecture because they had the advantage of magic, but then the humans were influenced by it- which leads them to high gothic (Noble Bell College), as well as Baroque and Rococo architecture (like the Pomefiore dorm). The Fae kept their style of early gothic since they didn't really see a point in changing much- maybe just more decorative gargoyles called grotesque as a symbol of the Fae's gratitude in their protection against time.

Also the hallways have what are almost like ribbed vaults which was one of the primary and first symbols of gothic architecture because they allowed more weight to be distributed to the vaults, and therefore allow for bigger windows.

Another distict characteristics in gothic architecture are clearly defined elevations.

Traditionally, they will have the celestial at the top, then gallery, then the main arcade (especially as we get into the later gothic periods and buildings get even taller and taller). Of course Disney isn't completely accurate with these things, but it seems that they're sort of going for that vibe, as many things end up being as our contemporary notions of historical design often creates a vague iconography of things that is often a copy of a copy of a copy of the original medium.

However I do think the intention to mimic the original design is still there overall, and combined with many of the other elements such as the prevalence of pointed arches that are a symbol of gothic architecture, and the sheer number of windows that were allowed originally due to the technological advances of the gothic era (and of course Malleus' own obsession with gargoyles), I think it would make sense to categorize this is like "gothic adjacent".

If I were to redesign the diasmonia dorm however, I would definitely begin by fixing the exterior- but I think they were referencing Malificent's tower in the Disney movie than any sort of historical accuracy lol. You win some, you lose some.

Pomefiore: Rococo with a touch of Art Noveau

Very obviously modeled after French Rococo architecture- the illustration of the hallways of Pomefiore dorm are almost exactly like the Palace of Versailles

It is definitely a toned down version- but pretty spot on, right? When I first saw the Pomefiore dorm I immediately Googled a picture of the Palace of Versailles cause I knew I saw it somewhere. Autistic spidey senses at it again.

Honestly wish they went more all out with the chandeliers, and had painted ceilings on the dorm colors- but I feel like they got the general vibes right. It feels closer to Romanesque with its simplicity but it still holds an aura of decadence and frivolity that I like. Very rich, extravagant like it's members (maybe not so much Epel lol)

Elements of Art noveau in the furniture (the peacock chair) and the embroidery of the uniforms.

Also, the peacock chair sort of reminds me of James McNeill Whistler's Peacock Room. He was an American impressionist that was sort of the forefront of art nouveau, since impressionism was one of the mainstream movements that really began the explosion of Japanese inspired design that is also used in Art Nouveau aesthetic.

(Vil would definitely have this room if he could)

The carpet in the room reminds me of William Morris' designs, and just art nouveau in general.

As far as I can tell, the exterior is based on a variety of German castle styles from 13th century Romanesque styles, to 18th century Neo-Gothic styles. Which is coincidentally what a lot of the castles on Disneyland are based off of.

Everything is very florial, Corinthian, and extravagant. I love it. It's very baroque, I dig it.

Scarabia

Please don't come for me I'm not as well versed in Non-Asian and Non-Western architecture except for religious architecture in Turkey and Jerusalem so I'm gonna try my best with this one

So I think it mixes a lot of the icons we think of in association to Arabic architecture like domes, pointed/ogee (rounded, then pointed)/multifoil (multiple curves) arches, and ornate floral designs that derive from the use of calligraphy in Islamic structures (as iconography, or pictures depicting the faces and bodies of religious figures were not allowed).

And I think all those tiny buildings resemble Minarets, or tall towers built adjacent to mosques where the muezzin can issue the call to prayer. But the artists were probably like "hm. Not enough. How do we make it more arabic??" And of course the contemporary orientalist perspectives that dominate the artistic realm made they go "quick just add a bunch of domes"

I think Kalim's room and the lounge in particular best shows the general "airiness" that parallels Islamic acthicture (ie the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque on UAE)

Open air courtyards are also a characteristic element of Islam architecture, which you can see with the areal view of the dorm, and also makes sense with Kalim's unique magic.

Jali window designs (the intricate gold metal covers on the arches) are also popular on Islamic architecture

The Haga Sophia in particular has been described to have a dome "suspended by the heavens", as the section connecting the building and the dome is made entirely of arches that allows the sunlight from the heavens to pour inside the building. Though the haga Sophia is a very special case, as it was occupied by varying religions with different architectural styles at certain periods- I think it's also a good representation of our contemporary prototype of Arabian architecture that makes up the final design of the dorm.

Ignihyde: Classical Greek

Looks like it's modeled after the Parthenon, which was built during the Classical period on Greece where Athens was flourishing as a center of mathematics, technology, and architecture. These are sentiments which becomes reflected in the Renaissance afterwards, such as symmetry and a very systemic way of approaching things. I think it fits perfectly with this dorm, since they're the "tech geeks" of NRC

It's got your pediment, your doric columns (would have preferred ionic columns but whatever Disney), your arcades. Pretty straight forward unlike the actual movie it's based off of lol (Hercules has so so many mythological inconsistencies. Like why are you talking about Achilles in the movie??? Trojan was hasn't even happened babe stop manifesting that shit)

I think the symmetry and order of Classical Greek design goes well with the overall futuristic look Ignihyde and the Island of Woe are going for. Pretty clever, Disney.

Heartslabyul: Tudor Revival Style

Though Alice in Wonderland is set in the later 19th century, I think the Tudorian Revival style than began in the beginning of the 20th century just shortly later fits best.

Turdorian revival style is characterized through half timbering, which is like the timber panels you see on the surface of the building; oriel windows (windows that jut out); mock battlements; and courtyards.

The Tudorian revival style also takes elements from Elizabethan era architecture and perpendicular gothic architecture, hence the long gallery and the tudorian four point arch)

The glass panes in the lounge leaves me to believe it's sort of like a glass house where part of the house is sort of like a greenhouse. This is characteristic of Victorian glasshouses that rose with the availability of timber, paint, and brick and the popularity of botany in the Victorian era propelled by botanical imports from British colonies. Architecrs like Joseph Paxton were also known for his opus magnum- the Crystal Palace, which held the Great Exhibition of 1851 (kind of like a world expo with the theme of industry and art) also popularize the movement- and was a significant sign of wealth, as glass and window taxes were especially high. But in the later century when iron and steel frame construction was advanced, people could be built out of iron and window panes, so they could be assembled easily, and also afforded by middle class citizens.

So it's basically a mix of Elizabethan and Victorian revival styles (tudorian and gothic), which is in theme with the Victorian period the original media is set in, albeit taking inspiration from styles little later in the period.

Savanaclaw:

Again- I am blind when it comes to Non-Asian/Non-Western architecture- but this one was kinda confusing cause it really doesn't have any architectural cohesivity??? Like it's just got a general "jungle vibe" which I'm not surprised at because Disney is infamous for glossing over non-white cultures and kind of just simplifying them into a "general vibe" which wow yikes my guy

Kind of reminds me of Mese Verde, which are structures made directly within a cliffside, or the Great Mosque of Djenné and the African Heritage house in Kenya which have very smoothed, natural designs that blend into the environment

What I could gather from my research and my juicy autistic brain, savannas are regularly subjected to wild fires- so a lot of the heavy, rocky architecture and interior style makes sense, opposed to one made of wood (which are mostly in the inside of the structure, besides the roof which I imagine is less likely to catch on fire). Much of the building seems also to be directly carved within natural rock formations- a very functional use of the resources around you- very savannaclaw!

The textiles in each of the dorm members' rooms resemble Kente fabric, a style of hand weaving from Ghana, originally reserved for royalty but now commonly worn for ceremonial occasions and such. Also unlike other African textiles styles, it's strictly a male practice. I think it would make sense for Sunset Savanna, a place where women are highly respected and perhaps take on more political and military positions- leaving largely men to the practice of textile making (both are honorable acts- not comparing the two). There aren't distinguished aesthetic styles of textiles that differentiate each weaving from another- rather, it is divided by technique and region- so this is not like a definite connection, just thought it was interesting to includle

Textiles seem to occupy the only decorative role in the entire dorm- so perhaps there is significant cultural significance? Maybe there is a certain region that's known for their practices? Or is weaving a symbol of adulthood or growth and therefore is why they're hung up in each of the dorm member's rooms with the exception of Ruggie, who may not have had the socioeconomic privilege of making one? Or does the practice vary across species? Much to speculate 🤔

Octavinelle: Art Deco and Art Nouveau

Saved this one for last because oh boy I don't even know where to start with this. Obviously the design is very creative and I love it, but there's a lot less historical elements I can use to analyze the style, kind of like the Savanah claw exterior.

But it leans towards the art deco style, which is most fitting for the business dorm I think.

Elements of Art deco like geometric aspects of design, thematic and aesthetic consistency, and decorative/geometric windows are seen throughout the dorm interior and exterior

But I think the art nouveau elements are also there too, with the cheeky sea-themed elements that use natural shapes and icons into the architecture, design, and surfaces of the dorm.

Otherwise, not much else to say about this dorm 🤷 it's not really based in anything historical but there are bits and pieces of art nouveau and art deco in there, but I definitely wish they would lean more into the art deco elements since I think it would go well with the general themes of the dorm values.

So uh, yeah. Told you it would be convoluted.

Feel free to add and or correct!

[etherealising]

chapter five | we keep this love in a photograph

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader | f!reader x the bear crew | male!oc x f!reader | carmy x claire | carmy x wingwoman!sydney |

summary: as plans are set in motion and renovations move forward, carmy finds himself entangled with the thought of you.

warning(s): guilt | grief | language | mentions of death | mentions of suicide | substance abuse | recovering addict | idiots in love | self-sabotage | insinuation of sex | semi-edited | please let me know if i missed anything

wc: 7.1k

It was 4 am, and the heat from your oven warmed the kitchen. The biscuits lined up nicely on the cooling rack, You hadn’t given much thought to the task at hand, too busy trying to remove yourself from the guilt-ridden thoughts that plagued your mind most nights.

Peach juice coated your hands, the rhythmic act of peeling them helped you to silence the foreboding thoughts fighting their way to the forefront of your brain.

The handwritten recipe card was placed strategically out of the way to not get ruined while you worked around the kitchen. You were no chef that much was obvious, but your mom taught you the art of cooking from a very young age. Instilled in you a sense of independence.

Standing in your kitchen as the night began its metamorphosis into day, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the role your mom played in your life. As a single parent, your mom was adamant about you knowing how to live life without having to depend on the goodwill of others. And even when the Berzattos entered your life, she made sure that you were never too comfortable.

You were allowed to spend as much time with the family as your heart desired, your mom wanted you to understand and enjoy human connection. But she’d always make sure you knew how easy it was for a person to walk out of your life. She liked to remind you that you couldn’t control other people’s actions, and just because you were important to someone today, didn’t mean those same feelings would transcend into tomorrow. To take a little, but never too much, to allow a certain level of comfort but always remember your role in other people’s lives is never as important as you may think.

All the peeled peaches sat atop the cutting board, awaiting the moment they would be pitted and cut into symmetrical slices.

Parents, either unknowingly or not, pass down their own beliefs and ideas to their children. Children who were essentially sponges waiting to soak up whatever knowledge and information was thrown their way. You knew this first hand, your mom’s need for independence is the same flaw that now afflicted you even into adulthood.

The independence that was so far from what you craved growing up, so drilled into you by your mother, that you instead hid behind your dependency on the Berzatto family.

That same need for independence that you had finally given in to and had almost killed you five months ago.

While your mom saw her life lessons as a teaching moment to never overstay your welcome. You easily disregarded it growing up, how could she not expect you to live in your vulnerability, to depend on people she had so easily allowed to love you and take up space in your life?

You didn’t blame your mom for allowing you to know the Berzattos but you blamed her for the part of you that would always remember her words. Always make you second guess if your actions affected people the way theirs did you.

Her words once again made an appearance when Carmy first distanced himself from you and finally made a permanent home in your head when Mikey passed away.

A shrill beep alerted you, the oven was ready. The peaches are pristinely cut, along with the previously made peach simple syrup both awaiting use.

Gingerly adding all the ingredients to your Dutch oven, you placed the lilac pot into the oven before beginning to clean up the mess you made.

You knew your mom did her best raising you with the hand she was dealt. Your father, a shadow you’d never know. Her own life experiences an excuse to protect you from the world, from yourself.

As her health deteriorated, you watched your mom's outlook on life become less skewed. But what good would that do you? The little girl you once were absorbed her constant message and stored it in the back of your mind for safekeeping, awaiting the day such a pessimistic ideal system might one day be put to use.

The timer on your oven was ticking down, the hoard of minutes left until the peach cobbler was done brought on a feeling of despair. Watching the timer dwindle minute after minute felt like a metaphor for your life at the moment.

Time was running out, and maybe that wasn’t true but you sure as hell did feel that way. The time you had left to confess your shortcomings to Richie quickly passed by. The expiration date for whatever the fuck was going on between you and Carmy fastly approaching.

You couldn’t allow these things to continue festering in your life. The weight of them exhausting you, you couldn’t keep pushing on like everything was okay like nothing had changed between any of you.

Choices you made inadvertently affected them just as much as they affected you. You didn’t want this wall between you and them anymore, and even if the wall was nonexistent to them; it was very much real to you.

You would figure things out, you had to. There was no time like the present to commit yourself to fixing the lives you had messed up.

It was easy though walking through life as if you hadn’t ruined anyone else’s. It was almost like you hadn’t, if they weren’t privy to your vices, was there any point in coming clean? Any point in apologizing to them?

Those thoughts were wrong and you knew it. You had to admit your wrongdoings to yourself, to understand why the people you loved the most in life were deserving of an apology, because if you didn’t you would constantly spend the rest of your days justifying why your actions were okay.

Justifying the fact that because you didn’t mean to overdose, that made everything you did okay. That, because you were just going through a mentally tough time in your life, turning to stimulants to aid your grief, was fine. That you were trying to forget for all the right reasons.

Reality was though, there was no right reason for the choices you had been making this whole time. And that was something you still had to come to terms with.

Closing your eyes, your head fell back, face pointed towards the kitchen ceiling. A tired sigh escaped your lips, the exhaustion of recovery taking its toll on you. Tired of standing in the kitchen and being berated by your mind you decided to begin outlining the exposè you were hoping to write on The Bear.

Busying your mind was the easiest option right now, too much unnecessary thinking put you back into the mindset that got you into this mess. Silencing any unwanted thoughts was no longer an option for you, but focusing on something else was proving to work for the time being.

You had made a colossal mistake. Who did you think you were to bring people who cooked for a living a sweet and savory cobbler? That wasn’t your initial plan when you couldn’t sleep this morning and decided to bake. But after removing the dish from your oven allowing the aromas to swim through the foundation of your house, you couldn’t bring yourself to keep it.

A dish that was introduced to you through your mom and the lineage the both of you carried. A dish that Mikey would always want for, but never expect when you did make it for him. A dish that you had spent countless times baking with Carmy by your side the two of you messing up the recipe more than once.

A dish that you once loved so much, but after your mom's death it always tasted like something was missing. And now baking it for the first time since Mikey’s passing you couldn’t even stomach the sickly sweet smell of it.

Walking through the lot to the back door, you were unsurprised to find it unlocked. Entering, you began walking through the kitchen making your way to the counter to place the pastel Dutch oven, the tote bag with vanilla ice cream you picked up on your way there following quickly after.

You weren’t sure who was already here at this time but thought it’d be a nice thing to do by offering them a bowl of the diabetes-inducing dessert. The chunky knit cardigan you were wearing was relegated to the stool next to you, the kitchen felt unusually warm, or maybe that was just your body's natural reaction to being in the restaurant.

Since Carmy had taken over the joint you couldn’t pretend you knew where anything was located. You knew Carmy to be the type of person to run a tight ship, expecting a certain standard from his co-workers.

Searching through the various storage spaces lining the kitchen, you unconsciously bobbed your head to the music singing through your headphones lost to the angelic voice streaming into your ears.

Locating a stack of clear containers you grabbed them before searching for any utensils to eat with, trying four drawers before finding and pulling out a mix of forks and spoons. Finally making your way back to the counter you began ripping the plastic from the store-bought ice cream.

The noise in the kitchen alerted Carmy, the time on his phone signifying that it must’ve been Syd. Inching toward the kitchen he stopped for a moment to check the monthly timelines that were hanging in the front. Every day was filled with a new task, it would be do or die from here on out to even think about opening in six months.

Making his way into the kitchen he stopped the body taking up space notably not Sydney. Your head bobbed up and down to whatever was playing through your headphones. The quiet hum of your voice easily met his ears in the silent kitchen.

He watched as you raised a spoon into your mouth, confused as to why you were in his kitchen this early in the morning. The closed-off kitchen setup didn’t allow him to see what's taking up your attention.

Quietly maneuvering around to get a better view of you, the sudden thought that this may have been an invasion of privacy quickly crossed his mind. He was moments away from leaving you to your own devices before he spotted the scars painted down your right arm. The deepest one tracing from the top of your tricep to your elbow.

Small cuts littered around the larger one, almost like the smaller ones were put there as accent pieces to the main scar. Carmy couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck happened to you after you left his apartment that night, looking from afar it looked as though someone had gone at you with a broken beer bottle or something.

The movement of your arm drew his attention to the reflection of light off of the tape-like bandage above your elbow. His eyes found two bears he would know fucking anywhere, the amount of times you forced him to watch that movie with you and Mikey drove him fucking insane.

Seeing you in this kitchen reminded him of when you were teenagers. It was hard to come to terms with it but he resented you for working at The Beef, resented Mikey even more for allowing you to. It wasn’t fair to you, the more he thought about it the more he realized a lot of the shit he did and felt wasn’t fair to you when you were both younger.

Carmy made his way around the counter you were working at, stopping in front of you the only thing separating the two of you was the steel slab of metal. He wasn’t sure how to get your attention, not wanting to startle you. Standing there watching you shovel what he now knew to be peach cobbler, the nutmeg and cinnamon aroma delicately caressing his nostrils.

The scent easily transported him back to all the moments the two of you spent in borrowed kitchens making this exact dessert.

You were so caught up in the music blaring through your headphones that you hadn’t realized the presence standing in front of you. You jumped spoon clanging against the table as a tattooed hand reached out for the no longer empty container housing the contents of your homemade cobbler and store-bought ice cream.

“Jesus fuck Carmen!” A hand raised to clutch at your chest, you understood how Tina felt yesterday after you snuck up on her. You quickly pulled the headphones off dropping them onto the counter, “Why the fuck are you sneaking around and shit?”

Carmy stared at you blankly, eyebrows raised before his head nodded toward the bowl he was aiming to grab. You rolled your eyes before nodding, “Sure Carmen, almost give me a heart attack in this shit hole kitchen, oh and while you’re at it don’t forget to try my peach cobbler.”

“Heard.” A small nod was sent your way before he shoveled a spoon full of the dessert into his mouth.

A scoff escaped your lips, you picked up your discarded spoon before taking another bite of the ice cream. The atmosphere between the two of you became awkward real quick, neither of you willing to break the silence, neither of you knowing what to say to break the silence.

“So uh, what’s with the cobbler?” You eyed Carmy surprised he was the first to break the silence, you shrugged distracting yourself by putting the lid back on the Dutch oven to persevere the content's warmth.

“Dunno, couldn’t sleep,” it's not like you were lying to him, but standing in his presence acting as though everything was okay made you feel guilty.

“You uh still bake when you can’t sleep?” The sigh you let out was an indication of how this small talk was the last thing you wanted to be doing.

“Obviously Carmen,” your hand shot out to gesture to the pastel pot between the two of you.

“Right…right.” The drumming of Carmy’s finger’s against the steel caused a slight irritation in you. Nodding you wiped the non-existent grime from your hand on your pants.

“Right, well I need to finish my proposal.” You walked the spoon you’d been using to the dishwashing area before joining Carmy one more time, “I’ll be in the dining area if you need anything.”

“You said uh, that you were writing about Mikey and The Beef.” You nodded, waiting for him to finish his sentence, it didn’t sound like much of a question so you weren’t sure what form of response he was expecting.

The silence stretched around the kitchen, an unwavering stare down between you two filling the air with even more tension. You expected things to be stilted between the two of you, but things felt like they were on a whole other level now.

“Well, this is for everybody,” finger quickly pointing at the treats you bought. “It’s kind of a thank you for letting me be a part of this, even if you guys don’t sign off on the article.”

“No, yeah um awesome.” The blank stare you aimed in Carmy’s direction bordered on disgust, leave it to him to make an awkward situation even more awkward, it sure was a talent of his.

You picked up your tote bag and cardigan before heading to the dining area, hoping there was still a table and chair you could occupy. If working here with Carmen meant every interaction would be like pulling teeth, you’d make sure to ignore him like the plague.

“Is that peach fucking cobbler I smell?” Richie’s voice carried through to the dining area where you had sat staring at your finished outline.

You finished a bit ago but didn’t want to chance running into Carmy while it was still just the two of you here. Hearing Richie’s voice and the slight noise as you slipped your headphones off proved that you were no longer alone with one of your oldest friends.

“Baby! Where’s Baby?” You laughed maneuvering out of your seat to head back into the kitchen, unsurprised to find Richie and the rest of the crew gathered around containers of ice cream and cobbler in their hands.

It seemed too early in the day to attack your tastebuds with such a sweet confection, but it was kind of your fault for bringing it in in the first place. You made your way to Sugar’s side with a small smile on your lips as she ate her portion.

In the month after your release, before your house was ready you stayed with Nat and Pete. Your restless energy was channeled into your mom’s dessert recipes, a way to keep your mind occupied and the only way you knew to thank the two adults who hadn’t given up on you.

Nat constantly made it obvious that she missed the constant sweets you would bake just for her.

The two of you made your way to where everyone else was gathered around, you couldn’t lie seeing the empty pot caused a sigh of relief to leave you. You weren’t sure if you could handle being ridiculed by chefs for your poor-tasting dessert.

“This don’t taste like moms baby, you do somethin’ different this time?” Richie eyed you as he raised the spoon to his mouth, it may have tasted a bit different but that didn’t deter him from finishing his serving.

“Uh yeah, a friend of mine taught me how to make this peach simple syrup. It like helps the biscuits stay moist or something. Chef talk isn’t my strong suit.”

Carmy wasted no time before looking in your direction, he was situated across from you, and no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever teaching you how to make a peach simple syrup. He watched as Marcus began talking your ear off about the dessert, the two of you falling into quiet conversation as you found a connection in sweet confectionery.

It was hard to watch as you so easily integrated yourself into the crew, Syd raptly listening to yours and Marcus’ conversation as if you were some award-winning chef and not just some journalist who knew how to bake. As he stood there watching everyone in the kitchen, he couldn’t pinpoint why his thoughts surrounding you seemed so bitter, he didn’t hate you, didn’t think he ever could.

But as he focused on you more, he realized that you were a part of Mikey he never really got to know. Of course, you were Carmy’s best friend but when things between the two of you fizzled out, Mikey’s role in your life became larger, even if you were separated by states and time zones.

Carmy knew he didn’t hate you, but it was hard for him to look at you and not see the relationship he wanted with his brother. He didn’t blame you, but he resented the way it seemed so easy for Mikey to love you, to be open with you.

Catching your eye he nodded his head in the direction of the dining area curious to hear about this article you were thinking about writing and maybe learning more about how it all connected back to Mikey and The Beef.

He made his way to exit the kitchen assuming you would be following behind him. Carmy stopped before turning around, he couldn’t make this decision by himself or at least that was his excuse as he called for Sugar and Sydney to join the two of you. It was probably all for nothing though as he knew the two women were already on board.

The four of you took seats at the table, the arrangement was oddly reminiscent of the meeting yesterday, this conversation taking place at the same table. You sat lonely on one side of the table while the other three occupied the other side.

You glanced down at your laptop in front of you realizing it might be better to join the others, the graphics would have been all for nothing if they couldn’t see them. Quickly grabbing your laptop you wandered over to the three individuals before plopping it in front of them on the table, you walked to grab the closest chair scooting it next to Carmy. You were too worried about the response to your proposal to be worried about being in such close contact with Carmy.

Sitting down you tried not to let the brush of Carmy’s leg against yours bother you, adjusting yourself in your seat before clearing your throat.

“Uhh, I made a PowerPoint,” the time you spent hiding from Carmy this morning allotted you the opportunity to do so. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, but I’ll walk you through it.”

You began clicking through the slides, the nervousness you were feeling earlier taking a backseat as you so easily settled into your element. Time flew by as you grew more passionate about the article with each slide going into even more depth than the information in the presentation did.

“The reach this article will have might just be the difference in The Bear’s success or the lot of us paying back a loan in 18 months.” The smile on your face was enough to show how excited you were at the prospect of being able to go forth with your project.

“Or you know, the food might actually play a part in The Bear’s success,” you looked in Sydney’s direction, confidence shot before noticing the small uptick at the corner of her lips.

You nodded a small chuckle leaving your lips, “I guess the food might play a part.”

Two smiles directed towards you helped to make you feel infinitely better about the whole situation, you were doing your best to disregard the figure sitting next to you. Not doing a very good job as his leg continued to brush against yours which felt like every millisecond, you didn’t want to assume he was doing it on purpose but it did disrupt your focus while explaining your presentation.

“I think it’s a great idea. We’re going to need the exposure,” your eyes shot to Nat as she began speaking. “I mean, there’s really no cons to going through with this.” The encouraging smile Nat sent you reciprocated on your lips.

When nobody spoke up Syd began nodding along, “Yeah, I-I think it’s a great idea, though my opinion may be a little biased.” Her words drifted off into a soft mumble as she realized her previous reading of your work may have influenced her answer.

The two women’s agreement seemed like all you needed, no sign of Carmy itching to chime in. The lull in conversation created an opportunity for everyone to take their respective leave and work on their tasks for the day. You gathered your laptop in your hands and moved the chair you were using back to its original spot.

Making your way to your bag and cardigan you began putting your laptop away and making sure all your belongings were in there so you didn’t leave any valuables behind. You tried to ignore the presence that stayed in the room with you, not in any mood to deal with Carmy’s hot and cold attitude.

“Why is this article so important to you?” Carmy hadn’t said a word doing your entire explanation. It would've been easy to believe he wasn’t in the room if it wasn’t for his warm leg constantly pressing against yours. His arms crossed over his chest, it was hard to pretend you didn’t know what was hiding under the knit crew neck he was wearing.

You found his eyes, the exhaustion in them a mirror to your own. For a minute it was easy to imagine the two of you were teenagers again, the urge to find a seat next to him again and pour your heart out scratching at the back of your mind.

“Can I be honest with you?” You took a glance in Carmy’s direction watching as he relaxed his arms almost like he was opening himself up to whatever you had to get off your chest.

“I uh,” a sardonic chuckle passed through your lips. “I told Mikey I’d write about him one day and…and by the time I finally made it far enough into my career he…he left us.” Carmy’s face didn’t give much away about his feelings making it a little easier to continue your train of thought.

“It's just something I need to do I guess,” you shrugged your shoulders as you faced Carmy once more. The want to be near him won over, taking a few steps to the middle of the table before leaning against it, the once large gap between the two of you now lessened.

“He uh, called me that night. I was at a screening for a friend’s documentary so I just let the call go to voicemail. Texted him after that I’d call him in the morning.” It was weird, Natalie had seen you at your lowest and you had yet to tell her the whole story behind the infamous voicemail that kept you up that night. But standing here with Carmy at this moment gave you a sense of safety you had been lacking.

“I remember waking up in the middle of the night with so many missed calls from Nat and Richie, your mom even called me once,” a humorless laugh escaped your lips, the confidence you had earlier to tell this story dwindling with each word.

“I finally answered Sug’s next call and I remember before she even said anything, I felt like this ache in my chest.” Your hand had subconsciously moved to your chest pressing against it as though you were trying to relieve a bout of heartburn. “And I just…I could feel that something was wrong and you know my first thought was you, tha-that something happened and we never got a chance to fix us.”

“But then Sugar lets out this heart-wrenching sob, like this bone-chilling cry that just like freezes your blood and I’m sitting there listening to her cry and then I’m crying and I don’t even know why yet. And it feels like…like we’ve been on the phone for hours just crying with each other before Pete calms her down enough,” the shakiness not only evident in your voice but your hand that was still resting on the table by your hip. “And it's silent for a moment but I know, the moment the first syllable passes her lips it's like I lose all of my senses and I’m just sitting up in bed, numb to what she’s saying. And it can’t be real, you know because Mikey just called me only a couple of hours ago.”

“As soon as I’m off the phone with Nat I immediately call Richie, and the first thing he says to me is ‘Baby I’m sorry’ he apologizes to me like his best friend that he probably spent his whole day with didn’t just blow his brains out.” The lump in your throat was begging to be free, something you wouldn’t allow to happen. “And Richie is sitting there fucking consoling me because I’m too goddamn selfish to take one fucking breath and make sure he is okay.”

You finally meet Carmy’s eyes again, waterline wet with the tears you won’t allow to fall. “I guess I say all of this to say I owe this article to Mikey, maybe if I had just picked up the fucking phone he’d still be here with us.”

Carmy has no idea how to respond to anything you’d just told him at a loss for words as he allows your emotions to sink into him. He gently reaches his hand out, not knowing if a comforting touch would help, but wanting to do his best to let you know he was there with you. The two of you sat in each other’s presence, the weight of your confession weighing heavy in the room. Carmy knows nothing he says will change anything, it won’t bring Mikey back and it won’t lessen your grief, so for a while, he doesn’t, the two of you sit there connected by your hands.

“Uh, I’m not sure how much Sug told you, but there are these Al-Anon meetings for uh family members of addicts and I’ve been going for a while now,” he gave your hand a small squeeze to make sure you were still listening. “It helps to understand what Mikey was going through.”

You looked down at the man below you, a blank look on your face. You gave him a soft smile as your thumb caressed his knuckles, “Yeah I uh I’ll look into it.” You had wanted to laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on you but you appreciated the help Carmy was trying to offer.

The approaching footsteps easily forced you back to your side of the table, quickly occupying yourself to look busy so you wouldn’t have to explain why you were alone with Carmy. You listened quietly as he and Syd began conversing about something that was none of your business.

“I’m just gonna hang around here before I’ve gotta be at work if that’s cool with you guys?” You looked at the two chefs more so telling rather than asking but still wanting to be polite.

Syd nodded “The more hands the better I guess.” You sent a small smile in her direction before heading to the door hoping to make yourself useful and occupy your mind from the guilty thoughts.

Avoiding Carmy’s eyes as you not going unnoticed by him, though neither of you expected the conversation to take the turn it did. He was relieved that you still felt comfortable enough with him to have a conversation of that nature.

Sydney was doing her best to focus on the chaos menu with Carmy. But with it being the first time in a space so personal to him, she couldn’t help but take in the small details around his apartment that gave a look into who he was.

It was surprising to her really, the whole apartment was bare, lackluster of any interpersonal items besides Carmy’s belongings that one would expect to see. Syd tried not to come across as nosy, or too interested in the small things her eyes did catch onto, but it was hard.

Like the group picture stuck to his fridge with a random cheap banana magnet that no one ever knew they had but it just appeared in their kitchen one day. Or the aesthetic-looking knife set that Syd would equate to something a suburban mom might have in her kitchen and not the gritty anxiety-riddled chef she was cooking with.

What really prickled her curiosity though, was a picture of the two of you strategically placed above the stove. Syd was awarded a glance as Carmy removed his closet from the oven, she couldn’t tell how recent it was from the few seconds she saw it, but it did make her question what Carmy’s idea of an ‘old acquaintance’ was.

It was probably her third pass by the stove before she was finally able to take in a clear understanding of the Polaroid. She would admit she was surprised, the content of the picture far from anything she would ever equate to Carmen Berzatto.

It was of you and Carmy. The two of you were lying next to each other, whether on a bed or the floor, Sydney couldn’t tell. One of your arms was raised, presumably holding the camera in your hand. Even though the moment was captured in time, Syd could feel the intimacy through the photo, almost making her feel too uncomfortable to even be so intrigued by it.

Syd had seen the smile gracing Carmy’s face once or twice in real-time, something he usually kept to himself. He looked happy lying there next to you, like your being there eased him. She focused on you to find you were focusing on him, your head tilted up a little, eyes gleaming full of love.

You looked at Carmy the way Syd’s dad talked about her mom. Like your entire life was destined to be entangled with Carmy’s.

As Sydney focused on the picture once more, she finally noticed the number written on the white space of the Polaroid. Her only assumption that it must’ve been yours.

Her curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. From the way you two interacted, to the Polaroid she was sure she had taken in every detail of , there was history between you and Carmy.

“Hey uh, can I ask you a question?” She moved to sit at the table where Carmy was prepping pasta. She wasn’t sure whether she should beat around the bush or just outright ask her question.

Carmy raised his head, eyes catching hers before giving a slight nod, Syd took a deep breath. She would consider her and Carmy friends, but she didn’t want him to think she was crossing some line. “Uh what’s the deal between you two,” she said your name for clarification, not yet sure if she was allowed to call you by the nickname so many others did, and not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Carmy froze for a minute, but his recovery was so quick if Syd wasn’t paying attention she wouldn’t have caught it. “It’s just uh, you called her an acquaintance, but I don’t think anybody gets those vibes from you two,” she trailed off not wanting to make Carmy feel pressured.

“I mean you have a shrine to her above your stove.” Carmy’s head snapped up to Syd before looking at the picture above his stove, Syd’s soft laugh signifying her quip as a joke.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled along with her, the weight on his shoulder at the idea of talking about you lessening a bit. “She uh, we were best friends growing up, she lived across the street from us.”

Syd nodded her head waiting for any more details, she wasn’t normally one to pry but Carmy’s explanation sounded like such bullshit compared to the way you two acted around each other. “So you guys like never dated or anything?” Syd’s curiosity caused the question to come across as less casual than she hoped.

“No, no. Just friends,” Carmy nodded eyes still on the pasta doing his best to distract his mind from Sydney’s line of questioning.

“Did you ever like, I dunno want more with her?” Carmy stopped eyes finally meeting Syd’s, he stood there for a moment just taking in her question. Although you once admitted your desire for something more with him, he still hadn’t. And he wasn’t sure if now in his kitchen with Sydney was the right time or place to do it.

But Syd didn’t need him to verbally answer, the look in his eyes told her more than what she had even asked. The two of them were only speaking about you and the longing in Carmy’s soft blue eyes was enough for Sydney to feel like she interrupted a sudden declaration of love.

Sydney cleared her throat, averting her eyes not at all meaning to get into anything too personal. Just a bit curious about the nature of the relationship between you two. “So any ideas on how to make this chaos menu…thoughtful?”

Carmy was grateful for Syd’s diversion of topics. If she had picked up on the tension between the two of you, he was sure the rest of the crew had. And if that meant everyone was privy to the unfinished history between the two of you then neither of you were as sly as you thought.

You lost Hayden somewhere between first entering the store and him wandering off for his necessities. You didn’t mind though, he was nice enough to offer you a ride home and stop by the store as the two of you brainstormed about your respective dinners for the night.

Wandering around on your own in a store you had never been to probably wasn’t the smartest decision you made. Case in point is the fact that you were standing in the alcoholic beverage section trying to fight the urge to peruse through the variety and pick your favorite form of poison.

The sound of your name caught your attention, eyes shooting to Hayden’s impeccably dressed form. You’d be the first to admit maturity had done him good, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up to show off his toned forearms. The top three buttons were undone, his chest giving a preview of what he had to offer.

His lips wrapped around your name again, a slight frown to his brows. He looked around the aisle before his eyes landed back on you with a small smile decorating his lips, “You okay?” You watched as he checked you over, the action irritated you a bit. Was he expecting you to go batshit crazy in the middle of the grocery store and just start hammering away at the countless bottles?

“Fine, just got distracted. I um, I just need some açaí and I’ll be good.” You gave him your best smile hoping it would reassure him, the one he returned ensured just that.

The two of you made your way to the frozen food section, meaningless small talk passing between the two of you.

“I can’t believe you still eat this shit,” you scoffed, quickly grabbing the bag of frozen açaí from the freezer. Closing the door as you made your way back to Hayden the two of you ready to make your leave.

“If I recall, you had no problem eating this in my dorm all those years ago,” the boisterous laugh that escaped Hayden caused a similar one to leave you, neither of you having brought up this topic of conversation since reuniting.

“Had to replenish all that lost stamina somehow,” your eyes widened slightly Hayden’s smirk did nothing to quell the heated feeling spreading through you.

He walked past you, grabbing your hand so you would follow behind him. “What’s got you quiet all of a sudden?” You knew he was teasing you, the tone in his voice bringing a chuckle out of you.

“Just wasn’t sure how well you remembered our college shenanigans.” The shrug of your shoulders was supposed to feign nonchalance, but the wide grin on your face proved the opposite.

The two of you had lost any rush to leave the grocery store, casually walking around hands entwined together. “To forget a girl like you would be criminal,” you faced Hayden nose scrunching up at his words a laugh bubbling out of your lips.

“Didn’t you get married?” Hayden laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder as the two of you continued around the store aimlessly just enjoying the company of an old friend.

“You didn’t want me the way I wanted you. Had to move on at some point.” The melancholy tone in his voice caused a feeling of guilt to shoot through your heart. You nodded a sad smile gracing your lips, the squeeze on your shoulder helping to alleviate your remorse.

“Listen, Hayden, I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything,” you sighed as you moved to stand in front of him. “It just wasn’t fair of me to commit to a long-term relationship with you when my heart wasn’t in it.” He nodded a smile sent in your direction.

“No, I uh I appreciate it, wouldn’t have married Marlene if you didn’t set me straight,” you smiled happy there was a bright side to this whole situation. “Probably wouldn’t have divorced her either. Hey, should I send you my lawyer fees or.” Hayden trailed off, grin returning to his face as you laughed swatting at his bicep.

All he saw in his head was you. As dramatic as it sounds it felt like the thought of you was keeping him alive, from the way you had all but disappeared when they opened Mikey’s locker. To the photo above his stove that was seared into his brain. So preoccupied with thoughts of you he had missed the aisle he intended to go down three times.

Finding his destination Carmy made his way down the aisle, stopping as he saw you laughing with a man he didn’t recognize. His mind going back to the conversation he had earlier with Sydney, Carmy did want more with you. He wanted a lot more than what the two of you allowed to transpire all these years.

Carmy wanted a life with you, a life where he was the one making you laugh in the grocery store. Where his apartment wasn’t just filled with a, year old photograph of the two of you, but filled with your presence.

He envisioned a life with you, and he wasn’t sure why he had sabotaged every chance you had given him to make that a reality. Carmy continued his journey through the store, thoughts of you played heavily on his mind. It didn’t matter what he wanted though if he never gained the courage to tell you. There was a lot unsaid between the two of you, but you had made your feelings clear. Tried to reconcile whatever relationship the two of you still had left. And the ball was in his court, had been since your impromptu visit last year.

Even when reunited with the girl he had crushed on once upon a time, you were still at the forefront of his mind. The woman in front of him is a cruel reminder of all the ways he messed up with you.

Carmy’s thoughts ran so wild with you as he entertained Claire’s conversation, that he didn’t think twice before giving her a number that had been left on a Polaroid a year ago and now decorated the space above his stove; but not the contact book in his phone.

a/n: it’s here!!! i think this chapter is pretty tame which is kind of out of character lol. thankful to be done with this chapter so i can explore some ideas i’ve been having! thank you all so much for your love and support! please support me in whatever way feels comfortable!!! 💜

tag list: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

[fun-k-board]

Hi! I was wondering if i could request Mordecai Heller x gn reader dating hc’s?

Mordecai Heller GN dating Headcanons

Note(s) : Uh, so, I'm kind of going through a sexuality crisis while I write this, so the romance aspect is sort of lost, I'm sorry.

I think he'd most appreciate somebody who won't dance around subjects, he can't read emotions well and so people being coy just doesn't make any sense to him, he prefers somebody that's straightforward.

Mordecai is fairly demanding, but he doesn't mean it to be a dick, he just has preferences and won't be with you if you aren't them. He doesn't expect you to bend over backwards and only do things he likes, so he won't bend over backwards only doing things you like.

He'd frankly prefer you to have a style that's symmetrical and clothing that's clean and proper, if you can't afford that or have an unsymmetrical face or body, he tends to stare a lot and be more snarky towards you. Mordecai won't end the relationship over that, it just bothers him a little.

But he's more than willing to pay for symmetrical clothes, or just steal the clothes off of a corpse for you.

He wants to teach you how to use a gun, just so you can defend yourself in emergencies. Mordecai always keeps a gun hidden by your bedside table, just in case of a break in.

That is if you aren't already working for Asa / know how to use a gun already, in which case he's slightly less overbearing but will still insist on sharpening your skills a little.

You two may or may not live together, it just depends on what both of you are comfortable with. He definitely doesn't want to share a bed, he'd only want to sleep with you if it's a situation where you need to, or you just fall asleep from exhaustion on the couch or something.

You and him keep your relationship secret in case somebody could use it against you, but somehow, someway, Serafine and Nicodeme find out. Mordecai has no idea how, neither do you, they just... Did.

Serafine and Nicodeme tease you two about your relationship all the time, luckily never in public. Cheesy things like 'aww, you two look so cute together', just to see Mordecai's face drop, he's mortified whenever he sees the siblings and you happen to also be near.

If you two were together when he was working for Lackadaisy, I imagine that he was the one trying to convince you to leave for Marigold. Your relationship could end over this if you refuse to leave, and while he'll hesitate in killing you, he won't be afraid to shoot you in the leg if you end up on a mission against each other.

Mordecai doesn't like PDA at all, it makes him feel awkward and uncomfortable, especially in really crowded areas or where people who know him are. If you try to initiate a hug or a kiss he sort of just stands there in complete and utter disgust or begins hissing.

He's not cuddly or lovey dovey when you two are alone, either, he gives you a small kiss on the cheek if it's been a hard mission and you're injured, but it's a little stiff and he clearly only did it to make you feel better.

Mordecai is semi okay with hugging, it just depends on when and where, if you two are alone? Here, a quick side hug. If you're in a crowd? Don't even touch him he will probably transform into a ficus.

Surprisingly he's an alright dancer, just only when he's alone, and maybe if he's alone with you he can dance with you. He can appreciate the symmetry and beautiful hard work that goes into more classical dances, like ballroom dancing or ballet, but he despises the free form moves of things like Jazz, it's too liquid and unpredictable for him.

[eternal-gromnommer]

Probably a very unpopular opinion but: I unironically really like the Mutant Dinosaur/D-Rex from the Jurassic World: Rebirth trailer?

One issue I always had with the hybrids from the JW series is that... they don't look wrong enough? They kind of just looked like generic theropods but shrinkwrapped and spiky, and to the casual observer they could easily pass for a real species just drawn very inaccurately. The Indominus rex was basically just an albino carnosaur, the Indoraptor's semi-quadruped pose made it resemble a Triassic pseudosuchian, and the Scorpios rex, while the most deformed-looking of the prior hybrids, still could pass as some kind of abelisaur just with oversized arms.

But THIS thing? It looks every bit like a straight up abomination. A monstrosity that shouldn't be alive, that shouldn't even exist, and it scarcely even resembles a dinosaur anymore. It looks like some horrific fusion of Cloverfield, a Rancor and a beluga whale with its knuckle-walking stance, extra limbs and bulbous misshapen head that makes it look even more disfigured. The Jurassic World trilogy had always been less about scientifically-accurate dinosaurs and more of themes of science gone mad, so this creature looks like the hideous aberration, a byproduct of biotechnology gone awry, that we should have gotten from the start when they started introducing "hybrids" and "mutants".

My only issue with it is that it looks a little too symmetrical, in a way that makes it look "natural" as if it was some kind of normally-occuring alien species. So I played around with the design a bit to make it more lopsided, its four arms each being different shapes and its face and jaw more asymmetrical and malformed-looking, to also add a sense of suffering, as if the creature is in pain from just being alive at all.

[perfectlysanexd]

How do you do your Final Fantasy edits?

The hard way, my friend. No AI is used here, I do it all by hand. 🥰 I assume you mean the screenshot manipulations I create? I'll try and give a simple summary... First, I boot up Remake on PC and use a "free camera" mod(you can find the links to the mods I use on my archive pages for manipulations, which is on my pinned post) to take a couple screenshots that I think will work well together. Sometimes I change my mind and choose a different one. It can be hard to match the camera angles and lighting, so sometimes I have to mess with that later, as well. But it's easier if they fit together from the beginning. We'll take my current WIP as an example. I started with these two screenshots:

I open them in the free program GIMP (GNU Image Manipulation Program), which anyone can download at gimp.org. Then the first thing I do is choose the base image. In this case, they're both facing the same way, so I choose to flip Sephiroth(you can't really do that with Cloud easily because of his earring, and his hair is less symmetrical). Since the camera was closer up on Cloud, and he's the smaller one, I usually choose Sephiroth's to be the base image. With that decided, I roughly cut Cloud from his background and paste him onto Sephiroth's image as a new layer. Then I position him, resize him, rotate him, whatever I need to do until he seems to be in the desired place, which ends up looking like this: (I ended up adding snow for this preview, so it would look more complete than it is when I showed it to my server, haha)

If you look at Cloud, you can still see a thick outline of his old background around his head. Once he's positioned properly, it's time to remove the rest of his background(I use a size 10 eraser with 100% hardness and zoom in about 5 times). Then I need to think about where they're connected, and how to make them look like they're touching, as well as layering to make them seem intertwined, as if they're truly occupying the same space together.

I cut away some of Cloud's shirt, and the rest of that effect will come with shading later. If I wanted Cloud even closer, I would make a duplicate of Sephiroth and erase his background, so that his lock of hair would appear to go over Cloud's face. I could also make it semi-transparent, so you could see the outline of Cloud's face through his hair. You can see I have some small game defects to fix, such as Cloud's hair clipping through his ear. I leave those tiny details for later, typically. Sometimes, because of their height differences, I have to "rebuild" missing parts of them from scratch, such as I did for this other manipulation:

It's a delicate process that's mostly the clone tool(to keep the textures) and some freehand drawing, but I don't have an art tablet, so I use my mouse for everything, which can be quite challenging. I've had a lot of practice from translating doujinshi, where I'd erase the words, rebuild the missing part of the image, and then place the translated words over that spot.

In any case, I decided I wanted more out of this manipulation than just leaning against each other. I wanted Cloud to be reaching up towards Sephiroth, and perhaps for Sephiroth to be pulling him closer. To do that, I needed pictures of their hands/arms like so:

I've taken hundreds of shots, so I looked through what I had first, but it wasn't the right angle, or was the wrong outfit for Cloud, so...then you open up those images and cut out the parts you want. After that, you work on positioning and things like that again. I haven't finished with that part yet, so it looks a little awkward. (And when you're doing these kinds of things, color matching is very important, but that's a bit advanced.)

I'm not fully satisfied yet, so I'll probably remove the rest of the background from the arms and then mess with the placement. As for Sephiroth's hand, I intend to thread it in Cloud's hair, so Cloud will need to be duplicated in order to create that layering effect, as mentioned previously. Which should end up looking similar to this one:

(I had to draw in most of Cloud's hand because I didn't have the camera mod back then, and the Sephiroth shot was provided to me by Coeurlwhiskers.) After that, it's a matter of shadows and highlights, remaining details, and finishing up the colors, etc. It's a long and difficult process, and can take many hours to complete, depending on how ambitious I get with it. Most of that stuff would be a much longer tutorial, and I did used to do some actual artwork a long time ago, so I...kind of know what I'm doing?? I probably do a lot of stuff the hard way(like not using layer masks) because I just don't have the time to teach myself more than the basics. 😅I know it may seem daunting, but it's really fun! I hope I managed to answer your question properly. Feel free to ask follow ups~

[internet-goblin]

Do you ever think about the fact that each member of the Fellowship has the perfect weapon for them? I am mixing up both films and books, just to falsely inflate my point here.

Gandalf - Glamdring and Staff of Power

The wise and old and whimsical wizard sets out with his ancient elven sword and his staff. When he departs from Rivendell as Gandalf the Grey, his staff is weathered and gnarly, but also shows signs of use. This is a staff of someone who loves to wander across the world, to meet and talk with different peoples. And precisely this staff gets lost when Gandalf dies.

When he returns as Gandalf the White, he's different. He barely remembers his name, his cheery old self is replaced by a more grim and serious demigod and his staff is different too. White and straight, symmetrical, perfect. But also cold, without the whimsy. Gandalf barely laughs after his ressurection, he doesn't wear his signature hat, he's more beautiful than before, but also less human.

And yet, there is still a trace of him in Glamdring, the only item he brings from his old life. The sword that was always there since the start of his journey, the same sword he wore during the travels with Bilbo. It's both a reminder of old Gandalf and of his amazing power, when he strikes a balrog with it

Aragorn - Andúril

Yeah this one is simple. Both the movies and the books hit you over the head with the symbolism. A sword of kings, wielded by the mightiest kings of Realms in Exile, broken just like the line of kings of Gondor, reforged only when Gondor is about to have its king restored. It shows that even when broken, both sword and legacy, it is not forgotten and it can be restored to its former and even greater glory.

Gimli - Balin's Axe

Gimli, at least in the movies (oh they've done you dirty my boy), is a fighter. Close and direct, smashing foes with great strength. What better weapon to represent his warrior's prowess than an axe? Brutal, effective, not subtle and terrifying.

But there's more to it. In the movies (at least, I don't remember reading this in the books, it's been a while) Gimli picks up the axe of Balin, who by the way is his uncle once removes. He grabs it in Moria and carries it through the rest of the journey. And there are some interesting paralels with Gimli and Balin. Mainly their part after the stories of the books they feature in comes to a close. After the end of Hobbit, Balin gather a group of dwarven colonists in search of a new home in Moria, trying to restore it to its former glory. They ultimately fail, but where Balin's colony was doomed, Gimli's thrives. After the events of LotR, Gimli sets up a new dwarven city in the Glittering caves near Helm's Deep. And unlike Balin, he's much more succesful, bringing in a new era of the dwarves.

Legolas - His freaking semi-automatic bow

Among the many medieval weapons, bow is one of the hardest to master. It takes years of intense training to get really good with a bow from the olden times. So it makes sense that it's Legolas, the second oldest member of the Fellowship, is so skilled with it. He had the time and drive to master it.

At the same time, it's quite an elegant weapon. And, if you will, it even might resemble a harp in a way, a musical instrument. Which is fitting for a race as musical as elves. It is music that dooms Legolas after all, making him long for the sea once he hears its call.

Hobbits - Sting and Barrow-Blades

The swords taken from the Barrows are at a first glance nothing special. Old, forgotten, small daggers who would not be looked at twice by a great warrior. Just like the hobbits. And yet, once you take a good look at the hobbits, once you grasp the blades, you realize just how much good they can do. How they go unnoticed by the world, underestimated by their enemies... up until the point a Barrow blade severs your Achilles' tendon, up until the point a certain piece of jewelry gets melted and sold.

Even the rocks Merry and Pippin throw have their meaning. They are rascals, almost kids, not warriors. Of course they would, in desperation, toss rocks at their enemies, since that's the only semi-weapon they've been using since their childhood.

And then there's Sting. It's not a legendary blade in universe, even though it probably should be. And yet it has hidden potential. It glows when orcs are around, it never dulls, it scares off orcs. Just like Frodo, it is resistant to evil in ways few would expect.

Bill

Bill has his hooves and he uses those hooves to kick the shit out of the guy who was kicking the shit out of him.

Boromir - Shield

I saved my favorite character for last. Boromir case is different because his signature weapon is not exactly a weapon. It's a shield. And that tells you so much about Boromir. He's a protector, first and foremost. All his actions are centered around protecting people, be it Merry and Pippin. Faramir or his men at Osgilliath. His protective nature is the only reason the Ring got to him, promising him safety of his people. Because the only way to hit someone who knows how to use a shield is from behind.

[catgirl-lucy]

Cardinal Numbers

Nyaa!~

I have too many drafts :c

Hi everyone! Today, we are going to learn about infinite cardinal numbers! I hope this'll be fun! ^^

I was also planning to explain something about the axiom of choice, but I decided that it's better if that becomes its own blog-post.

So, first: what is a cardinal number?

✦ Motivation ✦

Well, cardinal numbers are numbers that represent the size of a set of things. For example, {owo, uwu} is a set of cardinality 2: it has two elements, owo and uwu.

However, we can't simply count the elements of a set to figure out its cardinality. What if we come across a set like {0, 1, 2, 3, ...}? I mean... you can try counting the elements, but it's gonna take you a veryy long time.

So! What do we do?

Well,,, first, observe that cardinals can't exist in a vacuum. If we say that {owo, uwu} has cardinality 2, what does that actually mean? ‘2’ is just a symbol we use to describe the cardinality of {owo, uwu}, but has no meaning on its own. Where it gets interesting is when we compare the cardinality of {owo, uwu} to {10, 3}: they're the same! Now, that is interesting.

So, we use ‘2’ to describe the cardinality of sets like {owo, uwu} and {10, 3}, and we use this symbol so we can more easily recognize when two sets have the same cardinality, without having to search for statements like “this set has the same size as this other set” exhaustively having to apply transitivity of (cardinal) equality.

But what makes {owo, uwu} and {10, 3} so similar that they can be considered ‘equinumerous’?

Well,,, observe that the cardinality of a set doesn't change when we replace some of the elements with other elements: the cardinality of a set is completely independent from what the members of that set actually are. If we have a set like {catgirl lucy, my dearest friend, Semi}, and I replace ‘my dearest friend’ with ‘my worst enemy’ (so we get {catgirl lucy, my worst enemy, Semi}), the size of the set doesn't change!

I hope these two observations are enough to motivate the definition of a cardinal number:

～ Cardinal Equality ～

[Definition] Two sets, A and B, have the same cardinality, denoted |A| = |B|, iff there exists a bijection f: A → B.

There are three kinds of functions that will be important to us in this blog-post:

An injection is a function f: A → B from some set A to some set B so that, for all x,y ∈ A, if f(x) = f(y), then x = y.

A surjection is a function f: A → B from some set A to some set B so that, for all y ∈ B, there is some x ∈ A so that f(x) = y.

A bijection is a function f: A → B from some set A to some set B that is both an injection and a surjection.

A bijection thus pairs every element of A with a unique element of B, and vice versa.

So now, we need to show that this definition of cardinal numbers actually makes sense. I.e., that it is an equivalence relation:

An equivalence relation is a relation ~ such that:

~ is reflexive: x ~ x for all x

~ is symmetric: if x ~ y then y ~ x

~ is transitive: if x ~ y and y ~ z, then x ~ z

...

What?

OK, fine... I'll give you the answer: reflexivity of cardinal equality is witnessed by the identity function on a set, symmetry is from the functions inverse and transitivity comes from composition. I do want you to start thinking about how to solve these problems in the future!

Given an equivalence relation ~ on some class C, we can define a function F with domain C so that, for all x,y ∈ C, F(x) = F(y) iff x ~ y. If ~ fails one of the conditions of an equivalence relation, such a function does not exist.

This time, I will leave you to ponder why~

So! We can choose some function |·| that maps sets X to objects |X| such that |X| = |Y| iff X and Y have the same cardinality, the choice of mapping doesn't really matter.

The cardinality of ℕ, the set of natural numbers, is denoted ℵ₀ (‘aleph-nought’), this is also the cardinality of ℤ, the set of integers, and ℚ, the set of rational numbers. ℵ₀ is an infinite cardinal (not 0, 1, 2, 3, etc), but it isn't the only infinite cardinal!

|P(ℕ)| = 𝔠, the continuum, is another infinite cardinal. It is the cardinality of the set of subsets of ℕ, i.e. the set of sets of natural numbers.

Why are these cardinals different? Well, given some function f: ℕ → P(ℕ), try to find some subset of ℕ that is not in the range of f~ Thus, show that f cannot be surjective!~

Here is a hint for when you get stuck: if there is some x for which A and B disagree on whether they contain it (x is in A but not in B, or x is in B but not in A), then A and B are different.

Now, that we have gone over the basics of cardinal equality, let's look at something more exciting~ cardinal comparison:

⊰ Cardinal Comparison ⊱

[Definition] For two sets A and B, |A| ≤ |B| iff there exists an injection f: A → B.

≤ is a partial order on cardinal numbers:

≤ is reflexive: x ≤ x for every cardinal x

≤ is transitive: if x ≤ y and y ≤ z, then x ≤ z

≤ is antisymmetric: if x ≤ y and y ≤ x, then x = y

Reflexivity and transitivity are easy exercises for the reader~ (the proof is literally just the same as refl and trans for cardinal equality :p). Antisymmetry, on the other hand, is a lot more difficult!

That cardinals are antisymmetric is known as the Shröder-Bernstein theorem. The proof may be hard to follow, so good luck! :D

Let A and B be sets and suppose there are injections f: A → B and g: Β → A. We want to define a bijection h: A → B.

We can see that f and g form chains a₁ ↦{f} b₁ ↦{g} a₂ ↦{f} b₂ ↦{g} ... alternating between elements of A and elements of B. Since g is an injection, for every a ∈ A, we either have that it comes from some b (i.e. g(b) = a), or from nothing. The same holds for f. So every element in A and B belongs to a unique chain ... ↦ * ↦ * ↦ ... defined by f and g. Some of these chains have a sudden start (i.e. some a ∈ A or some b ∈ B that doesn't have an inverse under g or f), and some of these chains are infinite.

For a ∈ A, we can define h(a) based on what kind of chain a belongs to. If the chain a belongs to starts in A, we can set h(a) = f(a). If the chain a belongs to starts with some element in B, we can set h(a) = g⁻¹(a) (i.e. we set h(a) to an element b in B such that g(b) = a). If a belongs to a chain that goes infinitely far left, we do whatever. I'm just going to choose h(a) = f(a).

I'll leave it to you to verify that h is indeed a bijection.

We can also define strict comparison:

[Definition] For cardinals x and y, x < y iff x ≤ y and x ≠ y.

Since ℵ₀ ≠ 𝔠, as shown in the previous chapter, and n ↦ {n} forms an injection from ℕ to P(ℕ), we have ℵ₀ < 𝔠. In fact, for every cardinal x, there is some cardinal y so that x < y.

Here is some basic terminology for partial orders:

[Definition] Let ≤ be a partial order on some class P and let A ⊂ P be a subclass of P. A maximum element of A is some x ∈ A so that, for all y ∈ A, x ≤ y → x = y. A minimal element of A is some x ∈ A so that, for all y ∈ A, y ≤ x → x = y. The greatest element of A, if it exists, is some x ∈ A so that, for all y ∈ A, y ≤ x. The least element of A, if it exists, is some x ∈ A so that, for all y ∈ A, x ≤ y. An upper bound of A is some x ∈ P so that, for all y ∈ A, y ≤ x. A lower bound of A is some x ∈ P so that, for all y ∈ A, x ≤ y. The infimum of A, denoted inf(A), if it exists, is the greatest lower bound of A. The supremum of A, denoted sup(A), if it exists, is the least upper bound of A.

Given x,y ∈ P, the meet of x and y, often denoted x ∧ y, is the infimum of {x,y}. The join of x and y, often denoted x ∨ y, is the supremum of {x,y}. If every pair of elements in a poset (partial ordered set) has a meet and a join, then that poset is called a lattice. x and y are comparable iff x ≤ y or y ≤ x, x ⊥ y is used to denote that x and y are incomparable. Examples of lattices are: the powerset lattice (P(X),⊂) of any set X, where x ∧ y = x ∩ y and x ∨ y = x ∪ y, linear orders like ℚ, where x ∧ y = min(x,y) and x ∨ y = max(x,y), etc.

Without assuming the axiom of choice, two cardinals needn't have a meet or join. Now you know random useless stuff about posets!!

Oh, and: ℵ₀ is a minimum infinite cardinal. Proof is left as an exercise~

❈ Cardinal Arithmetic ❈

Cardinal numbers are numbers, so it'd make sense if we could do arithmetic on them. And we can!

[Definition] For sets A and B, |A| + |B| is the cardinality of the set A ⊔ B, i.e. the disjoint union of A and B. Members of A ⊔ B are (0,a) and (1,b) for a ∈ A and b ∈ B.

[Definition] For sets A and B, |A| · |B| is the cardinality of the Cartesian product A × B of A and B. Members of A × B are ordered pairs (a,b) for a ∈ A and b ∈ B.

Arithmetic on finite cardinals works as you'd expect: 6 + 3 = 9 and 12 · 2 = 24. Addition and multiplication on infinite cardinals, however, is actually quite boring, as x+y and xy are simply max(x,y). Well, that is, if you assume AC. Without AC, cardinal arithmetic can actually get very interesting (and weird af).

I am not that familiar with cardinal arithmetic without the axiom of choice, so you'll have to do more research on that on your own if you're interested!

Cardinal addition and multiplication are commutative, x+y = y+x, xy = yx, associative, (x+y)+z = x+(y+z), (xy)z = x(yz), and multiplication distributes over addition, x(y+z) = xy+xz.

Personally, I think cardinal exponentiation is more interesting than addition or multiplication:

[Definition] For sets A and B, |A|^|B| is the cardinality of the set of functions from B to A.

For cardinals x and y, if x ≥ 2, then we can prove that x^y > y. 𝔠, the cardinality of the continuum, is equal to 2^ℵ₀ and to ℵ₀^ℵ₀. Also, it's the cardinality of the set of real numbers ℝ. Here's a vid I found that explains why.

I think I might be getting too eepyy to write. I'll write more tomorrow.

[zzz]

Good morning!

Cardinal exponentiation has all the properties you'd think it has: x^y · x^z = x^(y+z) and (x^y)^z = x^(yz). Also, 0⁰ = 1.

There are also infinite sums and infinite products:

[Definition] Σ_(i ∈ I) A_i is the set of tuples (i,a) for i ∈ I and a ∈ A_i. Σ_(i ∈ I) |A_i| = |Σ_(i ∈ I) A_i| is the cardinality of this set.

[Definition] Π_(i ∈ I) A_i is the set of functions f with I as domain and f(i) ∈ A_i for all i. Π_(i ∈ I) |A_i| = |Π_(i ∈ I) A_i| is the cardinality of this set.

Σ_(i ∈ {1,...,k}) x_i = x₁ + ... + xₖ and Π_(i ∈ {1,...,k}) x_i = x₁ · ... · xₖ, so this is a valid extension of sums and products. The sum of x many y's, i.e. Σ_(i ∈ I) x for |I| = y, is the same as the product of x and y. The product of x many y's, Π_(i ∈ y) x, is equal to x^y. If X is a family of sets, I also sometimes write ΣX and ΠX for Σ_(A ∈ X) A and Π_(A ∈ X) A.

Here is a fun fact that idk where to place in this blog post: a Dedekind infinite cardinal is a cardinal x = |A| for which there exists an injection f: A → A that is not surjective. In other words, x+1 > x. Without the axiom of choice, infinite Dedekind finite cardinal numbers (aka mediate/Dedekind cardinals) can exist, and these cardinals are incomparable to ℵ₀.

Here is a fun question: is the product of any number of non-zero cardinals always non-zero?

Well?~

◈ Axiom of Choice ◈

The axiom of choice (AC) states that the product of any number of non-zero cardinals is always non-zero. I.e. for any family X of non-empty sets, ΠX is non-empty (a member of ΠX is called a choice function for X).

Eh... I didn't really plan what to write in this chapter besides what the axiom of choice is. Oh, well!

...

Wait-

Wait, WHAT THE F---

So.. apparently, you cannot take infinite products of cardinals without assuming the axiom of choice. ℵ₀ is the cardinality of ℕ, but ℕ is not the only set with cardinality ℵ₀. If A has cardinality ℵ₀, then in how many ways does it have cardinality ℵ₀? Well, if a bijection f: A → ℕ exists, then 𝔠 many of those bijections exist. If we take ℵ₀ different sets A₀, A₁, A₂, ... all with cardinality ℵ₀, we have, for each k, multiple bijections f: Aₖ → ℕ. We would expect |Π_(k ∈ ℕ) Aₖ| = ℵ₀^ℵ₀ = 𝔠, but how do we choose a bijection f: Aₖ → ℕ for each natural number k? If we only had a finite amount of Aₖ, this wouldn't be a problem. However, we have an infinite amount of Aₖ... so we need to make an infinite amount of choices. So, we can define the set X = {{f | f: Aₖ → ℕ is a bijection} | k ∈ ℕ}, and a choice function for X gives us a bijection for each Aₖ! But... we need AC to prove such a choice function exists.

...

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LEARN AD WHEN THIS F----D UP SH-- HAPPENS?

..sorry for screaming at you.

Luckily, infinite cardinal addition still works as normal without AC... probably.

Maybe.

Nope, it doesn't.

【 Aleph Cardinals 】

As you can see, we have run out of symbols to put on the sides of the chapter titles.

Anyways! So, a well order is an order (A,≤) where:

≤ is a partial order on A.

≤ is total/linear: for all x and y in A, x and y are comparable by ≤.

≤ is well-founded: all non-empty S ⊂ A have a minimum element.

Well, ig those random facts about posets weren't completely useless.

I might make a blog post about ordinals later, which'll go more in-depth on well-orders and linear orders.

[Definition] An aleph cardinal is an infinite cardinal number |A| for which there exists a well-order (A,≤).

An example of an aleph cardinal is ℵ₀: ℵ₀ = |ℕ| and the usual order on ℕ is a well-order. The n-th aleph cardinal is written as ℵₙ, starting at 0th of course :3

The statement ‘ℵ₁ = 𝔠’ is known as the continuum hypothesis (CH), which is both unprovable and undisprovable. I might make a blog post about forcing in the future! ^^

Although cardinals (without AC) don't need to be linearly ordered, aleph cardinals are linearly ordered and even well-ordered. A proof of this is left as an exercise~ Because, well, of course it is :P

The well-ordering principle states that every set A has a well-order (A,≤). Equivalently, every infinite cardinal is an aleph cardinal.

It turns out: AC and the well-ordering principle are equivalent! Although AC, when written in its original form, seems more obviously true (to me at least), I think the well-ordering principle is a lot more useful.

I might go more in depth on why this is in my post about ordinal numbers. (why AC and the well ordering principle are equivalent)

❖ Cofinality ❖

There are two definitions of cofinality: one for cardinals, and one for ordinals. Since this blog-post is about cardinals, I'll give the one for cardinals:

[Definition] The cofinality of a cardinal x = |A| is the minimum cardinality of a partition X of A into sets of cardinality <x.

I often use cf(x) to denote the cofinality of x and cof(x) to denote the class of cardinals with cofinality x, though people also often use cof(x) to denote the cofinality of x. A partition of a set A is a set X such that all members of X are subsets of A, none of the members of X intersect and the union of all members of X is A.

We have cf(0) = 0, cf(1) = 1, cf(2) = 2 and for every finite n > 2, cf(n) = 2. 3 = |{a,b,c}| can be partitioned into {{a},{a,b}}, the partition {{a,b,c}} doesn't work as this has a set {a,b,c} of cardinality 3, which is not < 3.

[Definition] A cardinal κ is regular iff cf(κ) = κ.

Equivalently, every partition of κ either has cardinality κ or an element of cardinality κ.

We have cf(cf(x)) = cf(x) for every cardinal number x, so cf(x) is always regular.

0, 1 and 2 are examples of finite regular cardinals, though often, 2 is not regarded as regular. ℵ₀ also is a regular cardinal.

A cardinal that is not regular is called a singular cardinal. An example of a singular cardinal is ℵ_ω, which is the sum of ℵₙ for finite n. cf(ℵ_ω) = ℵ₀ as {ℵ₀,ℵ₁,ℵ₂,...} is a partition of ℵ_ω = Σ_(n ∈ ω) ℵₙ into ℵ₀ many cardinals each of which is <ℵ_ω.

Here is the ordinal definition of cofinality, which is (a lot) more often used if you have the axiom of choice:

[Definition] The cofinality of an order (A,≤) is the minimum cardinality of a cofinal subset S ⊂ A. S is cofinal if ∀x ∈ A ∃y ∈ S, x ≤ y.

Assuming the axiom of choice, the cofinality of a cardinal κ is often defined as the cofinality of the minimum ordinal α such that |α| = κ. An ordinal is the order-type of a well-order, and one ordinal is less than another if there exists an order preserving injection from one to the other. cf(κ) with the above definition agrees with the one I gave earlier for infinite κ, but if κ > 0 is finite, then cf(κ) is 1 instead of 2. I might talk more about this in my blog-post about ordinal numbers. For now, we'll just use the partition definition of cofinality.

If x is infinite Dedekind finite, then cf(x) is 2, which I think is kinda funni. We can also have cf(𝔠) = 2 if we omit choice :3 Though with choice, cf(𝔠) is uncountable (i.e. >ℵ₀).

I don't know how to end this blog, so here is some random terminology:

A cardinal x is finite iff κ is 0, 1, 2, 3, etc.

A cardinal x is countable iff it's ≤ℵ₀. It is uncountable if it's not ≤ℵ₀.

An alpeh cardinal is an infinite well-orderable cardinal.

A strong limit cardinal is a cardinal x for which, for all y < x, we have 2^y < x.

ℶ_0 = ℵ_0, ℶ_(n+1) = 2^(ℶ_n) and ℶ_λ = sup{ℶ_α | α < λ} for limit ordinal λ. A cardinal of the form ℶ_n is called a beth cardinal and ℶ₁ = 𝔠.

Assuming AC, x⁺ is the next cardinal after x, called the successor cardinal. AC is needed to ensure there exists a cardinal directly after κ.

The continuum hypothesis (CH) states that ℵ₁ = 𝔠. The generalized continuum hypothesis (GCH) states that 2^x = x⁺ for all infinite x. Both are unprovable and undisprovable from the usual axioms of ZFC.

Assuming AC, a weak limit cardinal (or simply limit cardinal) is a cardinal x for which, for all y < x, y⁺ < x. Assuming GCH, weak and strong limit cardinals are the same.

A strongly inaccessible cardinal (or simply, inaccessible cardinal) is a regular strong limit cardinal. Assuming AC, a weakly inaccessible cardinal is a regular weak limit cardinal. The existence of an inaccessible cardinal implies the consistency of ZFC, and thus, by Gödel's incompleteness theorems, ZFC cannot prove the existence of an inaccessible cardinal.

That's all I had to say about cardinals (for now), bye!~

[ladysif8]

Will You Be Mine?

•Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

•Rating: General Audience

•Tags: Recovering Bucky Barnes, Semi-Retired Bucky Barnes, Semi-Retired Steve Rogers, Domestic Bliss, Flirting, Kissing, Boys In Love, Bucky Baking, Nebula Just Doesnt't Understand, Valentine's Day, Romance, Alpine Is A Menace, SMUT, Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Lace Panties, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs.

Summary:

Bucky whips up delicious Valentine’s Day cookies for their neighbor's daughter, doing his best to explain the Hallmark holiday to his bestie Nebula. Steve comes home to a romantic Valentine's dinner, complete with candlelight, wine, and plenty of flirting. The night heats up, but just as they're basking in the afterglow, Alpine causes chaos—sending Bucky scrambling out of bed, half-dressed and cursing, while Steve just laughs. Romance is never dull in their house.

Bucky stood at the kitchen counter, a piping bag in hand, carefully icing yet another heart-shaped cookie. The kitchen was filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla, the warm glow of the overhead lights making the whole space feel cozy. The counter was crowded with trays of cookies—some already decorated with delicate swirls of red, pink, and white frosting, others waiting for their turn. Piles of heart-shaped sprinkles in various shades of pink, red, and white lay nearby, ready to be scattered over the cookies once they were finished.

Nebula, standing stiffly on the other side of the counter, eyed the chaotic setup with a look of deep suspicion. She picked up a tiny heart-shaped sprinkle between two fingers, turning it over like it might explode at any moment. Her scowl deepened, clearly not impressed.

"I do not understand why you are doing this," she said, her voice flat and blunt as always.

Bucky sighed, focusing on the cookie in front of him as he piped a lacy border around the edge. "It's for a Valentine's Day party," he said, as if that should be explanation enough.

Nebula raised an unimpressed brow, her icy gaze drifting over the mountains of sugar and frosting. "You and Steve do not have children."

Bucky rolled his eyes, his lips twitching in a half-smile. "No, but Lydney and her husband do. They adopted a little girl, Lorelei. She's six."

Nebula's skeptical look didn't waver. "And?"

"And," Bucky said, wagging a frosting-covered finger at her, "I love that kid, and when a six-year-old asks you to make cookies, you make the damn cookies."

Nebula glanced down at the sprinkle still held between her fingers, then back at the vast array of cookies covered in pastel frostings and glittery sprinkles. The sight was enough to make her scowl even deeper. "You are hopeless."

Bucky smirked, reaching for another heart-shaped cookie. "Yeah, well, tell me that after you try one." He took a bite of one of the cookies he'd decorated earlier, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I bet you'll change your mind."

Nebula raised an eyebrow, eyeing the cookie like it might bite back.

Nebula was still holding the sprinkle between her fingers when, without a word, she picked up one of the cookies and took a bite. Her expression remained unreadable as she chewed, her gaze locked on Bucky as if daring him to comment.

Bucky smirked but didn't say anything—he knew better than to push his luck. Instead, he focused on carefully placing each finished cookie into a bakery box, making sure they didn't smudge or break. Once the first box was full, he reached for a spool of red ribbon, cutting a length before tying it into a neat, symmetrical bow.

"You know," he said, glancing at Nebula as he stacked another cookie inside the next box, "if you're gonna stand there eating my cookies, you could at least help."

Nebula raised a brow, unimpressed. "I am helping," she said, taking another slow, deliberate bite.

Bucky huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he reached for another ribbon. "Yeah? How's that?"

"I'm taste-testing," she said, completely deadpan. "Making sure they're not poisoned."

Bucky snorted, looping the ribbon into another perfect bow. "Oh, well, in that case—thank you for your service."

Nebula smirked slightly, but she didn't say anything else. Instead, she reached for another cookie.

She picked up another cookie, turning it over in her fingers like she was searching for a defect. Her frown deepened as she inspected the intricate red icing swirled over its surface. "What exactly is the point of Valentine's Day?" she asked, voice flat. "It just seems like an excuse to buy overpriced chocolate and flowers that will wilt and die the next day."

Bucky sighed, looping another ribbon into a neat bow around one of the cookie boxes. "That's not what it's about," he said, shaking his head as he slid the box aside. "It's about celebrating love."

Nebula shot him a skeptical look and took a bite of the cookie, chewing thoughtfully. "You do realize that sounds ridiculous, right? If you love someone, shouldn't you just... love them? Why do you need a specific day for it?"

Bucky smirked, reaching for another cookie box. "Well, yeah, obviously," he said, securing the lid before grabbing a ribbon. "You shouldn't just show the person you love that you love them one day out of the year. You should celebrate it every day. But Valentine's Day is a nice excuse to do something special—something extra. And for some people, it's a reminder not to take their person for granted."

Nebula chewed slowly, watching as Bucky worked with practiced ease, tying another perfect bow. "So, are you and Steve celebrating, then?"

Bucky's grin was instant, warm, and easy. "Damn right we are," he said, neatly stacking another box. "I've got dinner all planned out for tomorrow night."

Nebula narrowed her eyes. "Does it involve more heart-shaped nonsense?"

Bucky chuckled, grabbing a red ribbon and playfully tossing it at her. "Maybe," he teased. "You'll just have to wonder."

Nebula caught the ribbon between two fingers, looking at it like it personally offended her. Then, without breaking eye contact, she deliberately popped another cookie into her mouth. "I'm not wondering," she muttered through the bite. "I'm dreading."

Bucky just laughed, shaking his head as he reached for the next box.

The front door clicked shut as Steve stepped inside, shaking off the cold. He exhaled, rubbing his hands together to chase away the lingering chill. "Buck, I'm home!" he called, sliding off his jacket and hanging it neatly by the door.

Before he could take another step, a blur of white fur came skidding across the floor, paws barely finding traction on the hardwood. Alpine bolted toward him, a red ribbon trailing behind her like a tiny cape caught in the wind.

Steve chuckled as he bent down to scoop her up, her soft fur warm against his chilled fingers. "Well, hey there, trouble," he murmured, scratching behind her ears. She let out a soft, contented meow, blinking up at him with those wide, knowing eyes.

Steve grinned, cradling her against his chest. "Where's your daddy, huh?"

Alpine responded with another quiet meow, though she didn't seem particularly concerned with answering. Instead, she stretched a paw toward the buttons of his shirt, batting at them lazily.

Shaking his head, Steve shifted her into the crook of his arm and wandered through the house, following the warm, familiar scent of vanilla and sugar. As he stepped into the kitchen, his gaze immediately landed on the counter, where stacks of neatly tied boxes sat in perfect rows. His eyebrows lifted in amusement as he glanced down at Alpine.

"Do you think your dad would know if I snagged one of these?" he mused, reaching toward a box, his fingers just brushing the ribbon.

Before he could so much as lift the lid, a voice cut through the space. "Yes, he would know."

Steve turned, catching sight of Bucky strolling into the kitchen, fresh from the shower, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends. His skin was still dewy from the steam, the collar of his soft, well-worn T-shirt slightly damp where it clung to his neck. He was in sweatpants, his feet bare against the tile floor, looking so effortlessly comfortable that Steve couldn't help but smile.

Steve pouted, still holding Alpine. "That's unfair. You make all these cookies and don't even let me have one?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, crossing the kitchen with an easy saunter. "Like I'd forget to make extras," he said, reaching up to the cabinet beside the microwave. He pulled down a small white box, its edges neatly folded, and set it in front of Steve with a knowing smirk

Steve's face lit up as he set Alpine down and popped the lid open. Inside, a dozen cookies sat waiting for him—heart-shaped, some with swirls of red and pink icing, others dusted with fine sugar crystals. "You're the best," he said, reaching for one with a thick layer of frosting.

Bucky leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching as Steve took his first bite. "Yeah, yeah," he said, smirking as he tilted his head. "Just remember that when you're on dish duty later."

Steve paused mid-bite, his chewing slowing. "Wait—"

"Too late," Bucky said, already turning away, the smug satisfaction practically radiating off him.

Steve groaned, looking down at Alpine, who had hopped onto a chair and was eyeing his cookie with interest. "You believe this?" he muttered to her.

Alpine, ever the opportunist, simply stretched, flicked her tail, and meowed as if to say, Better you than me.

Steve sighed dramatically, still chewing his cookie as he glanced toward the direction of Bucky's voice. "Oh, and take those boxes next door to Lydney, please!" Bucky hollered from somewhere on the other side of the house.

Steve looked down at Alpine, who was now lazily grooming her paw on the chair. "You hear that? I don't even get to enjoy my cookies in peace."

Alpine flicked an ear, utterly uninterested in his plight.

Shaking his head, Steve grabbed the neatly stacked boxes from the counter, making sure the ribbons were secure. "You know," he called back, raising his voice so Bucky could hear, "one of these days, I'm gonna start charging delivery fees."

Bucky's laugh echoed from the other room. "Yeah? Put it on my tab."

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling as he pulled on his jacket. "Unbelievable," he muttered, heading for the door.

Valentine's Day

The kitchen was warm, filled with the rich, mouthwatering scent of sizzling steak and freshly baked bread. The gentle hiss of butter meeting hot cast iron filled the air as Bucky stood at the stove, expertly basting two thick-cut steaks, their crusts searing to a perfect golden brown. The rich, savory aroma mixed with the earthy scent of roasted garlic, making the whole house smell incredible.

On the counter, a pair of massive baked potatoes rested in their foil jackets, waiting to be split open and piled high with butter, sour cream, and fresh chives. A pot of broccoli cheese and rice simmered on the stove, the thick, velvety cheese sauce bubbling softly, releasing the comforting scent of cheddar and spices. Beside it, a tray of homemade sourdough rolls cooled on a wire rack, their golden crusts crisp while the insides remained pillowy soft.

Bucky wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, stepping back to admire his work before peeking into the dining room. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips as he took in the scene. The table was draped in a deep red tablecloth, rich in color and smooth beneath the flickering candlelight. The good dishes—the ones he only ever bothered with on special occasions—were neatly arranged, silverware polished, and wine glasses set in each place. The candles cast a warm, romantic glow, their soft flicker making the room feel intimate and cozy. Everything was perfect.

Well, almost everything.

A faint, irritated meow echoed from down the hall, followed by the soft thud of a small, disgruntled body against a door. Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "That's what you get, trouble," he muttered to himself.

Alpine, ever the little menace, had made it her personal mission to sabotage his setup. The moment his back was turned, she had taken a flying leap at the table, claws catching in the tablecloth, sending the candles wobbling dangerously. He'd caught her just in time—barely preventing a Valentine's Day disaster. The second attempt had been even more daring, her little white paws stretching toward the plates before he managed to intercept her mid-climb. After that, Bucky had scooped her up and, despite her indignant squirming, gently deposited her in the bathroom for a temporary timeout.

Now, with the house finally peaceful and dinner coming together just as he envisioned, Bucky took a deep breath, letting the moment settle over him. The kitchen was warm, the dining room was glowing, and the night stretched ahead, promising good food and even better company.

Tonight was going to be special.

Bucky stretched his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders as he made his way to the master bath. The kitchen was set, the food was nearly done, and now it was his turn to get ready. He turned on the shower, twisting the handle until steam billowed into the air, curling along the mirror and fogging the glass.

With a content sigh, he stripped down and stepped under the hot spray, groaning as the heat worked its way into his muscles. He tipped his head back, letting the water cascade down his shoulders and back, easing away any lingering tension. After a moment, he reached for the jar sitting on the shower shelf, popping the lid off and scooping out a generous amount of the vanilla bean frosting scrub he'd picked up from a boutique in town. The second he smoothed it over his skin, the scent bloomed in the steam—warm vanilla, rich sugar, just a hint of something almost buttery.

Bucky smirked to himself, knowing damn well Steve would lose his mind over it. His fiancé loved the way Bucky smelled after a full day in the kitchen—like fresh bread and melted sugar, something sweet and familiar. Bucky wasn't about to tell him he'd started buying the scrub just to keep that effect going a little longer.

He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth as another thought crossed his mind—delicate, wine-red lace, soft and sheer, tucked away in the closet. He'd picked it up on a whim during a shopping trip in New York, the same day he'd met Pepper for lunch. The memory made him chuckle, shaking his head as he worked the scrub over his forearm. The look on her face when he'd mentioned it had been priceless.

"Bucky," she'd said, blinking like she wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "You—wait, you bought—"

"I might be over a hundred and eight, Pep," he'd told her, raising a brow, "but I ain't dead. And neither is my husband-to-be."

She'd let out a sharp breath, shaking her head as she reached for her drink. "I really need to stop being surprised by you."

Bucky smirked at the memory, rinsing off as the warm water washed away the last traces of the scrub, leaving his skin smooth and lightly scented. He shut off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist as he wiped the fog from the mirror. His reflection smirked back at him, eyes bright with amusement.

Tonight was going to be fun.

The front door clicked shut as Steve stepped inside, shaking off the lingering chill of the evening. The warmth of the house wrapped around him, carrying the rich, savory scent of seared steak and freshly baked bread. He sighed, already feeling more at home.

He slid his jacket off, draping it over the back of a chair near the entryway before glancing down at the dozen roses in his hand—deep red, their petals lush and full, velvety soft against his fingertips. A small smile tugged at his lips as he adjusted them slightly, making sure they were just right.

"Buck?" he called out, his voice carrying through the quiet house.

From the direction of the kitchen, he heard the faint clatter of dishes, followed by the unmistakable sound of Bucky's low hum—a tune Steve couldn't quite place but familiar in the way all of Bucky's little habits were. Soft and warm, the way he always sounded when he was content.

Smiling to himself, Steve made his way through the house, following the sounds and the comforting aroma of dinner. He slowed as he reached the dining room, pausing just before stepping inside. The room was bathed in the gentle flicker of candlelight, casting golden hues against the deep red tablecloth. Their best dishes were neatly arranged—ones Bucky only ever brought out on special occasions—wine glasses gleaming in the dim glow.

Steve's gaze flickered across the room before landing on Bucky, who had just stepped in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

And damn.

Bucky looked devastatingly handsome. His dark hair was neatly styled, not a single strand falling out of place, the sleeves of his light pink button-up rolled up to his forearms. The soft color made his sharp blue eyes look impossibly bright, like summer skies over still water. The fabric hugged his broad shoulders and tapered waist just right, leaving Steve standing there for a second longer than necessary, just drinking him in.

Leaning against the doorway, Steve smirked. "You clean up real nice, sweetheart."

Bucky glanced up, his lips curving into a knowing grin as his gaze flicked down to the roses in Steve's hand. "And you come bearing gifts."

Steve pushed off the doorway, stepping forward as he extended the bouquet. "Figured I'd be a proper romantic," he said, watching as Bucky took the flowers, fingers brushing over the soft petals. "You like 'em?"

Bucky inhaled deeply, the faintest smile playing at the corners of his lips as his lashes fluttered. When he lifted his gaze, there was something softer in his expression, something fond. "They're perfect," he murmured, voice warm like whiskey on a cold night. Then, with a teasing smirk, he added, "Just like you, punk."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head as he reached out, fingers skimming over the inside of Bucky's wrist before pulling him in. He pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, savoring the warmth of his skin, the way Bucky leaned into him just slightly, like it was second nature.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Buck."

Bucky hummed, tipping his head so their foreheads rested together. "Happy Valentine's Day, Stevie."

The dining room was bathed in the soft flicker of candlelight, the deep red tablecloth adding a warmth to the atmosphere that mirrored the slow heat building between them. Steve pulled out Bucky's chair, a small, thoughtful gesture that made something in Bucky's chest tighten just a little. It wasn't flashy or dramatic—just Steve being Steve, treating him like he deserved every ounce of care in the world.

Bucky settled into his seat with an appreciative nod, watching as Steve did the same. He reached for the wine bottle, fingers deft as he uncorked it with practiced ease. Steve's eyes followed the movement, tracking the flex of Bucky's forearms, the way his long fingers wrapped around the bottle as he poured the deep red liquid into each glass.

Bucky smirked, catching the way Steve's gaze lingered. "See something you like, sweetheart?"

Steve took the offered glass, his lips curling at the rim before he took a slow sip. "Might be a thing or two," he murmured, eyes drifting lower to the faint opening at the collar of Bucky's shirt where smooth skin peeked through. The light pink fabric was soft, hugging his frame just right, and damn if Steve didn't appreciate the effort.

Bucky hummed, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip. "Well, I did go through all this trouble," he mused, voice rich with something that made Steve's stomach tighten.

As Bucky uncovered the dishes, steam curled into the air, filling the space with the mouthwatering scent of perfectly seared steak, loaded baked potatoes, creamy broccoli cheese and rice, and the fresh sourdough rolls that Steve had smelled the second he walked in.

"Damn, Buck," Steve murmured, reaching for his fork, dragging it through the cheese sauce before lifting it to his mouth. He groaned, eyes closing briefly. "You really outdid yourself."

Bucky shrugged, reaching for the butter as he sliced into his steak. "Only the best for my guy."

Steve grinned, cutting into his own steak. "Guess that makes me pretty lucky."

Bucky glanced up, something playful in his expression. "You always have been."

The meal stretched into a slow, easy conversation filled with knowing glances and low laughter. Steve took his time savoring the food, but more than that, savoring the way Bucky moved. Every action was deliberate—the slow sip of wine, the way he licked a stray drop from his lip, the way his fingers lingered at his mouth just a little too long when he dragged a piece of bread through the last of the sauce on his plate.

Steve swallowed hard, tilting his glass against his lips. "You do that on purpose."

Bucky feigned innocence, blue eyes gleaming. "Do what?"

Steve leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough. "You know what."

Bucky smirked, setting his silverware down with a soft clink. He reached for his wine again, slow and deliberate. "It's Valentine's Day, Stevie," he said, voice as smooth as the wine in his glass. "It'd be a damn shame if I didn't make it special."

Steve set his own glass down, gaze heavy as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. "Dinner's great and all," he murmured, reaching out to brush his fingers against Bucky's wrist, "but I think I'm more interested in dessert."

Bucky arched a brow, his smirk deepening as he turned his hand so their fingers intertwined. "That right?"

Steve's thumb traced over Bucky's knuckles, slow and purposeful. "Yeah," he said, his voice thick with promise as he pushed his chair back and stood, tugging Bucky up with him. "And I think we should take it somewhere a little more... private."

Bucky's smirk widened, something dark and teasing flickering in his gaze as he let Steve pull him close. "Now, who am I to argue with my Valentine?"

Steve chuckled, ducking down just enough so his lips brushed against Bucky's ear, his breath warm against his skin. "Smart man."

And with that, he led Bucky away from the table, fingers laced together, the soft flicker of candlelight casting their shadows against the walls as they disappeared down the hall.

In the dimly lit hallway, their shadows merged on the walls, creating an almost dance-like pattern as they moved. The hardwood floor creaked softly under their weight, a familiar sound in the quiet of their home that only added to the intimacy of the moment. Steve paused at the door to their bedroom, his grip on Bucky's hand tightening just slightly as he turned to face him.

The room beyond was cast in soft shadows and moonlight that slipped through the half-drawn curtains. Steve pushed the door open fully, leading Bucky inside. The familiar sight of their shared space, with its mix of modern touches and older, comfortable furniture, made Bucky's heart swell. It was a perfect reflection of their life together—parts of each of them interwoven to create something uniquely theirs.

Bucky watched as Steve closed the door behind them, the click of the latch sounding final, a seal on the outside world. Steve's eyes held a tender glow as he approached Bucky, closing the distance between them with soft, sure steps. His hands found Bucky's waist, pulling him close until they stood breath to breath, chest to chest.

"I really mean it, Buck," Steve whispered, his voice low and full of the emotion that often brimmed in his eyes but seldom spilled over into words. "I want every day to be like this. Just you and me, finding moments like these."

Bucky's response was a gentle nod, his eyes roaming over Steve's face with affectionate scrutiny as if committing each detail to memory. "Every day," he agreed, his voice equally whisper-soft.

Steve leaned in, capturing Bucky's lips in a kiss that started tenderly but deepened with an unspoken urgency, their fingers intertwining as they lost themselves in each other. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth between them and the soft rustle of fabric as they moved closer into each others' embrace.

Eventually pulling back for air, Steve traced his thumb along Bucky's jaw, his touch feather-light and reverent. Bucky's breathing was heavy, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and deep affection.

"Let's slow down," Steve suggested, his lips curving into a smile that reached all the way to his eyes. "There's no rush, right? We've got all night, Buck."

Bucky laughed softly, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. "All night, huh? You planning on keeping me up until morning?"

"I plan on making every moment count," Steve replied, his voice a seductive promise that sent a shiver down Bucky's spine. His fingers moving to the buttons of Bucky's pink button-down shirt, he began to undo them one by one, his movements deliberate and slow, allowing the anticipation to build. Each revealed inch of skin was kissed gently before he moved on to the next button, sending a trail of heat following his lips.

Bucky's breath hitched at each touch, his hands reaching up to tangle in Steve's blond locks, anchoring him close. The soft murmur of fabric shifting filled the room as Bucky's shirt fell open completely.

Steve took a step back, eyes roving appreciatively over Bucky, taking in every detail as if he were seeing it for the first time. "You're beautiful," he breathed out, the admiration in his voice making Bucky's cheeks heat with a blush.

Embarrassment mingled with pleasure at the compliment, Bucky's usual witty retort lost in the depth of Steve's earnest gaze. Instead, he pulled Steve back to him by his shirt collars, their lips meeting again in a kiss that melded passion with a deep, comforting familiarity. As their bodies pressed closely, the world outside continued to fade, becoming inconsequential compared to the growing intensity between them.

Bucky's hands slid from Steve's collar, tracing down his strong arms and around to the small of his back, pulling him even closer. His hands finding the hem of Steve's shirt and pulling it gently over his head. The movement was fluid, full of an easy familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent just like this.

Steve, meanwhile, worked at loosening Bucky's belt, his nimble fingers quickly unfastening it before sliding it through the loops and letting it drop silently to the floor. He pushed Bucky's pants down, his breath immediately catching as his eyes landed on his husband-to-be deep wine-red lace panties...and panties they were.

The sight left Steve momentarily breathless, his heart beating a fierce yet tender rhythm against his ribs. "Valentine's red, huh?" he murmured, voice filled with affection and a hint of teasing as his fingers traced the delicate lace edging the fabric.

Bucky chuckled, a low sound that vibrated against Steve's chest. "Thought they'd be your kind of dessert," he replied, his gaze locking with Steve's in bold challenge and invitation.

Steve's response was a soft growl of appreciation as he leaned in once more, capturing Bucky's lips in a kiss that spoke volumes—of their history, their present, and the future they were building together. His hands roamed over the contours of Bucky's body, from the small of his back up along his spine, fingers splaying wide to feel every curve and muscle.

"Steve," Bucky whined, a shiver running down his spine. "I am all for taking things slow, but I have been half hard since I slid these on. I'm dying here, pal."

Steve chuckled, his breath dancing hot against Bucky's cheek. "Oh, Buck," he murmured, lips grazing the shell of Bucky's ear in a whisper that sent another shiver through him. "You have no idea how much I enjoy hearing that."

With a swift movement, Steve's hands shifted lower, his fingertips brushing over the lace that teased at what lay beneath. His touch was deliberate, barely there yet burning a trail of heat that made Bucky gasp softly and press closer.

"Maybe," Steve continued, voice thick with desire as he gently pushed Bucky towards the bed, "we should do something about that."

The back of Bucky's knees hit the mattress, and he allowed himself to fall back onto it, his eyes never leaving Steve's. Steve hovered above him, the moonlight casting his face in half-shadow and highlighting the blue depths of his eyes. He looked every bit the hero Bucky knew him to be, but here, now, he was Bucky's alone—his lover, his partner, his everything.

Bucky stretched out like a cat basking in the sunlight as he watches his lover unbuckle his belt, then unzip his pants, pushing them and his boxer briefs down this powerful thighs. Exposing his thick cock, which stood rigid and eager. A look of intense desire flashed across Steve's face as he stepped out of the discarded clothing, his naked form highlighted by the soft moonlight that filled the room, casting a glow on his chiseled features.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat at the sight, a mix of awe and raw hunger building within him. His hands reached up, beckoning Steve to join him on the bed. Steve crawled onto the bed, his movements predatory yet utterly tender. He aligned himself with Bucky, skin against skin, their breath mingling as they both paused for a moment to savor the closeness.

Bucky reached up, fingers threading through Steve's hair as he pulled him down for another deep kiss. Their lips moved together with a practiced rhythm, a perfect sync that spoke of years of learning and loving each other's expressions.

As they kissed, Steve's hand wandered down Bucky's side, trailing fire along his skin until it found its way back to the hem of those lace panties. With a teasing tug, he slowly began peeling them away from Bucky's eager body. The fabric slid down Bucky's thighs, the delicate lace whispering over his skin like a secret. As the panties fell away completely, they were tossed aside without a second thought, lost to the passion that now fully consumed them.

Steve's eyes roamed over every inch of Bucky laid bare before him, his gaze intense and filled with unadulterated love and desire. The sight of Bucky, vulnerable and wanting under him, ignited something primal within Steve. He leaned down to claim Bucky's lips once more, his kiss conveying all the emotions that words could never fully express.

Bucky arched up into the kiss, meeting Steve halfway, his hands roaming over Steve's broad back and down to his firm buttocks, pulling him even closer if possible. The heat between their bodies was palpable, each touch and movement stoking the fire that burned within them both.

Slowly, almost reverently, Steve's hand trailed lower, exploring Bucky's body with gentle yet insistent touches. Steve's fingers moved with a deliberate intensity along his lover's smooth curve, a dance of anticipation. He paused, pulling back slightly to gaze down at Bucky with a mix of curiosity and desire. Without hesitation, he lifted Bucky's legs, fully revealing the enticing sight of the pink heart-shaped plug nestled snugly, teasing him with its playful wink.

"Fuck.." Steve groaned. His voice was ragged with need as he explored the plug with gentle, tentative touches, eliciting moans of pleasure from Bucky. The delicate touch drove Bucky wild, the sensations building a delicious tension that begged for release.

"Steve, please," Bucky gasped, his hips bucking slightly to meet Steve's touch. The plea in his voice was enough to stoke the flames of Steve's desire into a roaring fire.

"I've got you," Steve murmured soothingly, leaning down to plant soft kisses along Bucky's inner thighs, each one a promise of what was to come. His hands worked carefully, easing the plug out with a slow, tantalizing pull that had Bucky biting his lip to stifle his cries.

Once removed, Steve set the dripping wet plug aside and shifted closer, aligning himself with Bucky. He looked into Bucky's eyes, seeking consent in his eager gaze before proceeding. With a nod from Bucky, Steve positioned himself and slowly, deliberately began to press forward; his entrance met with a welcoming tightness that drew a deep groan from them both. The slow fusion of their bodies felt like a sacred ritual, each movement deepening the connection that bound them heart and soul.

As Steve fully sheathed himself within Bucky, he paused, allowing both of them a moment to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. Bucky's hands found Steve's face, pulling him down for a passionate, soul-searing kiss that echoed the intensity of their union.

The room was filled with the sounds of their shared breaths and the soft murmur of fabric against skin as they moved together. Steve began to set a rhythm, his thrusts gentle at first but growing in urgency as Bucky's moans urged him on. Each drive deeper into warmth and tightness elicited gasps and whispers of pleasure, their bodies slick with sweat as they moved under the dim light of the moon.

Bucky's legs wrapped around Steve's waist, drawing him in even closer, their bodies melding together as if they were meant to be one. The intensity of their connection grew with each thrust, every movement forging a deeper bond.

"Steve," Bucky breathed out, his voice laced with desire and love. "Harder," he pleaded, needing to feel Steve as deeply as possible.

Steve responded without hesitation, his movements becoming more deliberate and forceful, driving into Bucky with a passion that matched the fierce storm of emotions swirling within them both. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, a testament to their fervent need for each other.

"This what you wanted," Steve questioned, railing Bucky with enough force their super soldier-grade bed creaked and groaned.

Beneath him, Bucky was a vision of ecstasy; his eyes closed, lips parted in pleasure, every muscle taut with anticipation of each next move. His hands gripped Steve's shoulders, nails digging slightly into the skin as waves of pleasure cascaded through him.

"Ooh...oh..oh," Bucky whined, desperately clinging to his lover.

Steve bent down to capture Bucky's lips once more, kissing him deeply while he continued his relentless pace, each thrust meeting Bucky's desperate moans. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, lost in the heat and intensity of their desire.

The pressure built rapidly within them both, a crescendo of passion that threatened to overwhelm. Steve's thrusts grew even more urgent, his grip tightening on Bucky's hips as he drove both of them closer to the edge.

Bucky arched against him, his cries filling the room as sparks of pleasure ignited along every nerve. "Steve," he gasped out, his voice a raw mix of need and adoration. "I'm so close."

Hearing those words spurred Steve on further, his movements now fueled by an insatiable need to bring Bucky to climax. He reached between their bodies, his fingers finding Bucky's throbbing length. Steve's touch was expert, knowing exactly how to stroke him to match the powerful thrusts.

"Come on, baby, come for," Steve rasps breathlessly.

The dual stimulation was too much for Bucky, his entire body tensing as he felt the overwhelming surge of his climax approach rapidly. His breath hitched, a strangled moan escaping him as he clung to Steve, his anchor in the storm of sensation that swept through him.

"That's it, Buck, fuck, so beautiful," Steve praises.

With a few more skillful strokes and deep thrusts, Bucky shattered, his release washing over him in powerful, tingling waves. Bucky's flushed cock stiffened as the was of pleasure washed over him, thick milky ropes come spurting out so hard his stomach and chest were painted. Steve held him close, slowing his pace but not stopping, drawing every last shudder from Bucky's trembling body.

"S-Steve," Bucky managed to stutter out, his voice hoarse with spent passion as he locked eyes with Steve, who was still moving within him, chasing his own climax.

"Goddamn," Steve curses, feeling Bucky's warm tight channel gripping him like a vice. He can barely pull his cock out before his lover's body is trying to greedily suck him back in.

The sight of Bucky so undone pushed Steve over the edge. With a few more urgent thrusts, he groaned deeply, his own climax overtaking him. He buried his face in the crook of Bucky's neck as he came, thick hot rope of come painting the inside of Bucky. Steve's body pressed tightly against his fiancés in a full, desperate measure of intimacy.

As the last waves of pleasure ebbed, Steve collapsed gently on top of Bucky, both of them gasping for air in the quiet aftermath. They lay intertwined, a tangle of limbs and satisfied sighs, basking in the glow of their shared ecstasy.

"God, I love you," Steve murmured into Bucky's hair, his voice laden with emotion. He shifted slightly, easing his weight off Bucky and pulling him close into a tender embrace. Bucky snuggled against his chest, their sweat-cooled skin sticking slightly as he settled into the comfort that only Steve's arms offered.

"Love you too," Bucky replied softly, his hand tracing idle patterns on Steve's back. His voice was thick with emotions and lingering pleasure. They lay in silence for a few moments, the serenity of the night wrapping around them like a soft blanket.

The room was quiet, save for the slow, steady rhythm of their breathing. A warm, contented haze settled over them, the kind that only came after the kind of loving that left limbs tangled and skin still humming with the aftershocks. Steve lay sprawled across Bucky's chest, his fingers tracing lazy circles over his ribs, his cheek pressed against the steady rise and fall of Bucky's breath.

Bucky hummed softly, his fingers ghosting through Steve's hair, completely at ease. "Mmm... should've done that before dinner," he muttered sleepily.

Steve chuckled, pressing a kiss to the closest patch of skin he could reach. "We'd have never made it to dinner."

Bucky smirked, tilting his head just enough to press a kiss to Steve's temple. "Worth it."

Steve was just about to agree when—

CRASH.

The unmistakable sound of something hitting the floor—hard—echoed down the hall, followed immediately by a high-pitched yowl that could only belong to Alpine.

Bucky gasped, eyes flying open. "Alpine!"

Before Steve could even process what was happening, Bucky shoved him off, nearly sending him tumbling to the floor. Steve barely had time to catch himself before Bucky was grabbing the first thing within reach—Steve's boxer briefs—and yanking them up his legs as he bolted for the door.

"Goddammit, Alpine! If you broke somethin'—I swear to fuck—" Bucky's voice trailed off as he disappeared down the hall, still muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Steve lay there for a moment, completely stunned, before falling back onto the bed, laughter bubbling up from his chest.

"Never a dull moment," he muttered to himself, grinning up at the ceiling before shaking his head and finally dragging himself up.

Because, of course, he had to go check on his fiancé. And the little menace they called a cat.

MOOD BOARD

Sif’s Masterlist

Series Masterlist

[raasturi]

I redesigned Cosmo and Wanda for my FOP: Missionaries of Eden AU

Greetings ladies with gentle hands. I'm back with another batch of epic art now that I'm finally able to draw something other than the same two characters over and over again (read more at the end)

Just so you know, these were just quick sketches I made when I was supposed to sleep and these might not be their final designs.

Here's Cosmo:

Out of the two, Cosmo probably changed the most.

I tried to incorporate elements of his original design into the new one, like his tie, sleeves and umm... his hair? The hair-strands are supposed to be like flames coming out of his inner core (the weird ball I drew next to him that has an arrow pointing at the floating onion rings), if you understand what I'm trying to say.

I originally made him a twink until I remembered that he gave birth that one time. I suppose people can get back into shape after such an event, though I like this version of him better (plus it's show accurate!)

I know real thrones (types of angels) don’t have wings but he looked kinda silly without them. Also the wings make him have a star-shaped silhouette which I think is cute.

Also instead of a wand he has a staff

And then here's Wanda:

Maybe, since now that she has a sword instead of a wand, she should be called Sworda!... please never call her that.

It was a bit harder to incorporate original design elements into this one, so I mostly just went with what seemed fitting.

She also turned into a girlboss. Not that she wasn't already! I just thought it would make sense for her to be physically strong considering she's a power (type of angel).

Her wings also look like a sword... kinda. Her wand is also a sword now!

I didn't feel like drawing her face. It's always a struggle for me to come up with them since my art style is semi-realistic and all. Pick your battles as they say.

I also created some sigils 3 months ago

As per usual, all the mystical creatures in my AU have their own sigils for summoning purposes (inspired by real demon sigils. Look them up, they're super cool). That's why I created a bunch of them for a few important +a few miscellaneous characters, and only now did I realize that I had never posted them anywhere, so here you go:

I'll probably tweak some of these (especially Wanda's and Anti-Wanda's sigils). I'll most likely make more of these since now the vespids (pixies) have kinda important roles, too.

Btw they aren't symmetrical or anything. I just quickly sketched them on MS Paint lmao. Also the light grey lines are just guides and not actually a part of the design.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(I tried to make a divider. Idk what it will look like on other devices)

Quick behind the scenes update: After three months of screaming in agony (or five if you include my two previous fixations), I have finally been freed from the chains of being way too obsessed with certain characters without my will... *cough cough*.

Though this might seem sad, worry not, for I persist by literally not caring about what my brain says. I believe it is my duty to continue this legacy I have created and continue drawing wholesome Peri x Dale ship art (+ AU stuff). It is what the fandom really needs during these trying times!

Anyway. Until next time, losertown!

[discoidal]

baby birds chapter 1 part 4

(pt 1, pt 2, pt 3)

plain text under cut

“Is it because I made fun of blondes that one time?”

I am incapable of acting normal. I act, instead, squirrelly and suspicious. No one seems to notice a damned thing. I realize that my baseline is squirrelly, that I come off part squirrel.

Sheridan flips a curtain of semi-fried hair over her shoulder and I stutter on a joke about hair conditioner. “Tables have— they’re— tables have turned. Haven’t they?” I say it. Or I dream I say it. Her laugh is full and loud.

But is there something different about it? New?

"Is that why you didn't say?"

I dream of saying a million inane things. Like are we still good and what’s going on and on and on. I don’t say anything. I act squirrelly. Sheridan acts normal, but I’m incapable, so I leave a trail of slimy silences wherever I go and she rolls with it, full of grace. Fuck. I can be graceful about this. I can be chill.

“Is it because I’m getting too clingy?”

I dream that my silences are profound and affecting. Like they say a million things. But Sheridan fills it with ease. Almost like doesn’t notice them.

“Is it because I hate your boyfriend? Is he turning you against me?”

I dream of a wide river. Then a fork in the water. Then two streams. Symmetrical. Straight and narrow and bubbles in the white.

“Is it because of who I am as a person?”

I dream.

[pennyplainknits]

Four blouses

A year ago I bought a metre of some very lovely and expensive Liberty Tana lawn. It sat in my small sewing stash until I could find a pattern for it. Eventually I settled on the Perennial Blouse. I was drawn to the simplicity of the shape, which lets the pattern shine will still being fitted and not the giant sack with elastic waist which seems so common in Indie patterns and which I have many many bitchy thoughts about.

I made a quick toile and found that as usual I needed to take length out of the body. It's designed to sit at the natural waist and I have a rather short torso. That's why it looks like a crop top but I swear it's not, that's just how short my upper half is! For reference I am 5'6" (167cm) and yet need a 32in (81cm) inseam, I really am mostly leg.

I made the cap sleeve version, and it was a quick and fairly painless project that is really elevated by the beautiful finishing on the inside and the thoughtful pattern elements, such as a button hole guide and separate pattern pieces for any interfacing, a well as properly drafted armscyes (the amount of armscyes that are symmetrical makes me weep).

Here's some close ups of the pattern and the cap sleeves. I was very happy with the pattern. It's very economical for fabric, taking under a metre, and it really lets the print shine. In fact I was so happy I uh, went a bit wild

I had to give away almost all my handsewn shirts this year as my upper chest and shoulders no longer fit comfortable in them (swimming regularly will do that, and my high bust measurement has always been out of whack for standard pattern sizing anyway). So I wanted restock my handsewn blouses, and I knew I liked this pattern. So I made more.

This is a white cotton broiderie anglais, For this one I raised the scoop neck about 1.5 cm, and lengthened the body by a cm. I love the contrast of the orange buttons. I made the bias tape from some plain white polycotton because the embroidery on the body fabric would mean it was harder to use.

I've added pictures of the inside for this one. As you can see there are no raw edges anywhere in this blouse, which I LOVE. The seams are all french seams and the neckline/sleeve seam/armhole are all bound with an understitched bias facing. It makes the inside SO neat and tidy. So many patterns skimp on the seam finishing, instructing you to serge or overlock them (I don't have an overlocker nor any desire for one). And really if I wanted seams that were overlocked together, why would I bother making my own clothes. It's a seam finish I hate! I really appreciated the time put into the pattern to make the inside nice.

Next up is this fun orange number that I made as part of a Star Wars bounding outfit (I was BB-8). A lovely embroidered lawn which was SO lovely and well-behaved to work with. I cut it on the cross-grain so I could have the embroidery and cut work running parallel to the button bands

And lastly, this one in silk. It was a NIGHTMARE to work with. It's whisper-thin and slippery and semi-sheer. I gave it gelatine bath which did help to somewhat stabilise the fabric as I cut and sewed it but it also made it super staticky. I think I should have used more gelatine because although it was slightly papery it was still slippery and seemed to stretch and deform if you so much as looked at it wrong.

(Wait, I can hear you say. Gelatine? Like the stuff sweets are made of? Yes! It's a way of stabilising very find or floppy fabric. You mix gelatine and hot water (I used a ratio of 1 tsp to 500ml water), soak you fabric, and let it dry, whereupon you iron it, and cut out your pattern. It washes right out of the fabric when you are done).

The fabric fought me every step of the way. I was nearly done when I slipped cutting a buttonhole and ripped a tear in the button band. I had to do a small patch job and you can TOTALLY see it but I'm hoping the pattern makes it less obvious.

The finished blouse is wonderful to wear though, so light and elegant so I think it is worth it.

[qhoaaaa]

Milo with piercings and other features I imagine he has (and some hcs with Sweetheart hebehebeeheb)

Piercings!!/jewelry

He has them Dahlia piercings (lol) look them up they’re so cool

Has piercings on his ears, a few studs as well as a nose ring

Definitely buys different kinds of earrings and stuff to decorate his ears depending on the event

Brow piercing, especially on the right brow UGHH

They’re all gold colored, he also has some regular silver and black, has a few green colored studs as well

He’s gotta own a few gold chains (as a gold chain haver myself lmao), he keeps them in good condition

Sweetheart got him one as a gift and he teared up, kept asking them how much it was and they only said for him to not worry about it(it was expensive) - he wears it everyday and night and even in the shower

His neck sometimes gets nipped by the metal and when Sweetheart sees him bring a hand to rub at it, they ask, "Why don't you take it off?" And he says, "Eh, I don't wanna... it's from you, sure as hell I'm not gonna take it off."

Features:

Symmetrical beauty marks under his eyes (Sweetheart absolutely LOVESSS them, kisses his eyes a lot because of them), and on his cheeks too (genetics are INSANEEE)

Sharp canines,,, yesssss

Few patterned beauty marks on his shoulders

Most of his skin is just bare and smooth but Sweetheart loves when they see his beauty marks on his shoulders or his face when he’s taking a shirt off or resting

His back has a few long scars from sparring with the other wolves when he was younger, he didn’t want them healed fully, let them scar as a learning experience, Milo lets Sweetheart massage them or put a balm on them so the tissue doesn’t get weird, he feels all mushy (in a good way) when Sweetheart unexpectedly kisses down his scars (he makes sure to tell him it feels good too AWGWGW)

Really REALLY soft hands

Light chest hair (HSBSHS WORK WITH ME OKAY LET ME COOK)

Chest tattoo, it’s a singular design he made up himself (drew it and everything), it’s probably a symbol that’s important to him/his mother and his way to honor her, he has accompanying designs on his fingers

Tattoo of Sweetheart’s name on his nape (tell me that this wouldn’t look nice,, I’ll wait)

(Off topic but I saw a post where Marie and Colm have tattoos of Milo’s first paw prints of when he shifted for the first time and he would def do the same if he and Sweetheart have kids)

He and Sweetheart get ring tattoos on their ring fingers when discussing getting rings (I love that audio), they wear the actual rings on their thumbs

My personal opinion but he would not have grills ❌❌ (never liked those but to each their own !)

He has golden eyes (all wolves do and it’s just a variety of shades but his are golden golden and they’re so pretty, he wears brown contacts/Unempowereds see brown to cover the color)

Sweetheart has smile lines, they popped up after meeting and getting with Milo, Milo ADORES them

They used to hide their smile before meeting Milo, needless to say, they smile widely now, teeth and all and its the cutest to him, seeing that smile is how Milo knows that they're comfortable and relaxed and having fun

Theyre at least 6'3 , buff and curves THEY GOT IT ALL

Sweetheart works out at the gym semi regularly and Milo practically drools when he sees them and their muscles , they have long legs(LEG MUSCLES TOO) and he's all over them

Sweetheart loves his arms, no reason, they just do

They like to feel up and down his upper arms and his shoulders, he likes the touch

He has super curly black hair, got it from his mom (we love you Mama Greer) while most of his sisters have straight/wavy hair like their dad, no facial hair

He’s just reaaaaaalllllyyyty hot in general ouughhhhh 🫣🫣🫣

[jomindraws]

Still in Superphylum Outersymmetrum

(AN1 B2) Clade: Erithrospermia

A clade of outersymmetrums that contain pointed radially symmetric forms for the entire duration of the life-cycle and contain a semi-flexible keratin shell.

PHYLUM FREESPROUT EXOTICA

Phylum containing radial point-symmetry with extrusions ending in a dermal layer, a flat underside, a single cloaca for intake and excretion, and reproduce via fragmentation or sexual diaspores.

(AN1 B2-a) Clade: Orchinadae

A clade of animals orienting their internal anatomy around a vacant cavity at the center of symmetry, used for orientation and pressure regulation, and containing a segmented brain chord.

Class Starfishkind

Class of orchinadae that have muscular tubes on ends of a variating number of rays, can detach and reattach an anterior end to and from the posterior end, and locomote via floundering, tube-based ciliary locomotion, and gymnotiform swimming; vacant cavity exposed to open water on two sides.

Class Urchinkind

Class of orchinadae that have barbed and toxic quills on the end of ray lobes, rays and ends are on non-flexible fixed positions, locomote via rolling and ciliary locomotion during adolescence and reproduction and are stationary during adulthood, vacant cavity exposed to open water on one side.

(AN1 B2-b) Clade: Gridkind

A clade of animals all containing multiple nodes of nerve nets with geometric symmetry, interlinked with collagen and elastin, and using an ammonia salt-based circulation and waste system.

Class Gridkind

Class of clade gridkind that uses full ectothermy, resides in only saltwater, and has cnidocytes lining the outer dermal layer.

(AN1 B2-c) Clade: Prototekradia

A clade of animals with a central organ lobe in a flat disk, using protruding spikes for defense, hunting, and consuming.

Class Spikediscs

Class of prototekradia that are mobile during most of their entire life, use rotational locomotion to move across the seafloor, a buoyant bladder to keep upright, and an exaggerated extension on the sagittal plane.

Class Seamines

Class of prototekradia that are mostly immoble during their life, attach themselves to the seafloor with an armored stalk, use multiple sets of buoyant bladders to raise near the surface of the sea, and a bloated spike-lined posterior end.

Yes, I'm sure you've all noticed the EXTREMELY creative names such as.... STARFISHKIND.... and URCHINKIND..... Again, these are just for namesake and I named these when I was deep in the college semester so my brain was already mush by then.... Both of those classes have a hollow center that they either use for buoyancy, orientation, wrapping around organisms, or rooting. The starfishkind actually typically look more like floundering or odd-shaped walking organisms in the sea, and only form the shape illustrated when latched to an algae/bacterial/fungal filled rock (which is a significant portion of their day lol). Urchinkind depend on the species, but the barbs on the top and sides actually act more like quills than actual urchin spikes, and organisms will typically unfurl or flatten into a bread-dough like shape when docile.