#stony headers

[himejoshi-homosexual]

The best part of changing your icon every 9 months is that it feels like my icon is saying all the stuff that I'm reblogging. Which incites me to reblog more stuff.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ cola ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ professor!cho sang-woo x student!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this story, lolita!

˚ ༘♡ “you do understand that you are at risk of failing my course?”

˚ ༘♡ his words were severe, piercing through the tense air that had settled in his office. you stared at him, your gaze unfocused, the potency of his question sinking into your chest like a stone. seated in the small, uncomfortable chair across from his grand, imposing desk, you crossed one leg over the other, attempting to appear composed. your white leather handbag rested neatly against the chair’s legs, pristine and pale as a dove’s feather.

˚ ༘♡ it had been over a month since the two of you reached an agreement, a fragile truce cloaked in professionalism. the night you’d spent together was supposed to be a foolish mistake, forgotten and buried in the haze of poor judgment. neither of you could have known then that he would become your professor. he had laid down the rules with uncompromising clarity, no favoritism, no special treatment, no room for the past to bleed into the present.

˚ ༘♡ but now, here you were, falling behind in his financial accounting course. the missed quiz sat akin to a scar on your grade, its damage too significant to ignore. his syllabus had warned that quizzes could not be retaken under any circumstances, and yet you’d convinced yourself, naively, that he might display some leniency.

˚ ༘♡ “i am extremely sorry, professor,” you began, your voice soft, trembling slightly as you forced yourself to meet his dark eyes. “if i could get an extension…”

˚ ༘♡ “you read and signed the syllabus.” his interruption was calm but firm, a knife cutting through your plea. “i made myself clear, i don’t offer extensions.” he adjusted his glasses, the subtle motion punctuating the finality of his statement. his expression didn’t change, disappointment etched into every line of his angular face. “you’ve been a good student up to this point. i’d suggest you figure out what’s so detrimental to your focus and take care of it, if you wish to pass.”

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed hard. “yes, professor,” you managed, your voice barely audible, laced with a strained somberness. his reputation preceded him, after all, a man known for his rigorous standards and his unwillingness to tolerate mediocrity. you knew this going in, yet it didn’t lessen the weight of your failure or the anxiety clawing at your mind.

˚ ༘♡ his expression softened ever so slightly, the harsh lines of his face easing just enough to reveal a touch of humanity beneath the austere exterior. he let out an exasperated, frustrated sigh, the sound slicing through the silence. it was as if he was mulling over the cost of displaying leniency. “while i don’t typically offer extensions,” he began, his voice measured, “if you have a viable and genuine reason for your recent poor performance, i might consider granting you the opportunity for an extra credit research assignment.”

˚ ༘♡ your pulse quickened at the unexpected offer. professor cho was notorious for his unyielding policies. there were whispered stories from upperclassmen, students who had been hospitalized, grappling with extenuating circumstances, only to be met with his stony refusal to accommodate. yet here he was, extending a tree branch.

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed, steadying your voice. “you may have noticed my absence last week,” you began cautiously. “my cousin was deathly ill. we thought…” you hesitated, feeling the anguish of the words threaten to pull you under. “we thought she might not make it. i flew out to be with her. since her father passed, it’s been difficult for her, and i needed to ensure she would be okay.”

˚ ༘♡ the words hung in the air between you, solemn and grave. his brow lowered, and for the first time, there was something distinctly human in his expression, sympathy. “i’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. “that must have been difficult. it was good of you to be there for her.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, biting back the emotion threatening to surface. speaking about it felt like peeling open a wound, and you knew if you lingered on it too long, the sadness would overwhelm you again. instead, you returned to the topic of your grade. “about the extra credit opportunity?”

˚ ༘♡ he straightened his posture, nodding as if grounding himself back into his usual composure. “i’ll email you the details tonight,” he said. there was something different in his tone now, something softer, almost resigned. he was still the same cold, stern professor, but the edges seemed less sharp, his demeanor less impenetrable. “while i encourage you to work hard to improve your grade, don’t push yourself to the point of exhaustion. it’s not worth your health.”

˚ ༘♡ “thank you, professor cho,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. there was an implicit closeness in the exchange, an understanding neither of you seemed willing to fully acknowledge. it stayed like the light fragrance of a fading perfume, delicate and undeniable.

˚ ༘♡ you stood, gathering your bag and clutching it tightly. “i need to study for my literature class, but i’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly. his eyes fixed on you for longer than expected, and then he nodded.

˚ ༘♡ as you left, offering a quiet farewell, you felt the faintest surge of something indescribable descend upon you, something that shifted in the space between professor and student, something that felt too intimate to name.

˚ ༘♡ two weeks had come and gone, and true to your word, you’d submitted the assignment, a meticulously detailed research paper on fiscal dealings across the globe. the effort had paid off. your grade was inclining upward, slowly but surely, and on the surface, everything seemed normal. but there were little things. professor cho remained as strict and unemotional as ever, but you started noticing the subtleties, a fleeting glance your way during a lecture, the brief, almost imperceptible hesitation when his hand brushed yours while returning a graded paper.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself it was nothing, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered.

˚ ༘♡ professor cho was notorious for his exacting demeanor, but his reputation among female students extended beyond academics. it was no secret that many found him attractive, with his handsome features and reserved, enigmatic demeanor. you couldn’t pretend you weren’t one of them, he had caught your eye that night at the bar for a reason. you found yourself wondering, late at night when your thoughts strayed, if the feeling was mutual. after all, he had approached you. was it something about your appearance that had lured him in, something that loomed in his thoughts to this day?

˚ ༘♡ but such thoughts were dangerous, unspoken truths that stayed locked in your chest. they had to be.

˚ ༘♡ the winter garden was breathtaking, blanketed ina stunning layer of snow and shimmering frost. the air was crisp, and the sun burned low in the cerulean sky, casting pale light through the bare branches. you presided over your notebook on a weathered bench, furiously scribbling notes. the beauty of the scenery was lost on you, though, your fingers were stiff and red from the cold, your thin off-the-shoulder sweater and linen pants doing nothing to ward off the icy air.

˚ ༘♡ you shivered as you turned the page, and it wasn’t until you heard the crunch of footsteps on the frozen ground that you looked up.

˚ ༘♡ there he was, professor cho sang-woo, standing just a few feet away. he was wrapped in a dark wool coat, the kind of warmth you could only envy in your current state. the sight of him made your breathing quicken, not because of the cold, but because of that familiar, quiet intensity in his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “good afternoon,” he greeted, his tone even but unmistakably aware of your predicament. his eyes flicked to your frostbitten nose and hands before meeting yours again. “isn’t it a bit cold to be studying outside?”

˚ ༘♡ you laughed lightly, trying to conceal your embarrassment. “good afternoon, professor cho,” you replied. “i didn’t check the temperature before leaving, and now i’m deeply regretting it.”

˚ ༘♡ he studied you for a moment longer, his expression indistinct. “you should be more mindful,” he murmured, the severity in his words softened by something unexpected, worry.

˚ ༘♡ before you could reply, he shrugged off his overcoat, stepping forward to drape it over your shoulders. the fabric was heavy and luxurious, and you went still under the weight of both the gesture and the coat.

˚ ༘♡ “you’ll catch a cold like this,” he said simply, his tone quieter now, bordering on gentle.

˚ ༘♡ the gesture was so unexpected, that you found yourself at a loss for words for a minute. “thank you,” you managed, your voice barely audible. his coat carried the faded scent of cedar and winter air, and it wrapped around you like a shield against the biting chill.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t say anything else, just nodded slightly, his hands slipping back into his pockets as he took a step back. there was an indication of something in his expression, apprehension, maybe even tenderness, but it was gone before you could be sure.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t stay out here too long,” he said, his voice earnest but laced with a near imperceptible softness.

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll leave once i finish this set of notes…” you replied, your words fading as you motioned toward your notebook, “and your coat…”

˚ ༘♡ he interrupted swiftly, “you can return it whenever it’s convenient. i’ll be in my office.” his gaze intent on you for a vanishing instance before he nodded, “i’ll see you another day.” with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you without a chance to say goodbye.

˚ ༘♡ later that evening, your friends noticed the coat neatly placed over your chair. its rich wool and vintage style drew immediate attention and flattering compliments with a sliver of buried envy.

˚ ༘♡ “where’d you get such a nice coat?” one of them asked, interest noticeable in her bright eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “it belonged to my grandmother,” you lied effortlessly, your fingers brushing over the fabric as though it held some sentimental value. “it was passed down to me.”

˚ ༘♡ another friend, a male peer a couple of years older than you who had taken professor cho’s business class and failed it with bitter resentment, narrowed his eyes. “doesn’t professor cho have a coat like that?”

˚ ༘♡ his remark was one you found unwelcome and unnerving, yet no one seemed to pay him any mind. the conversation shifted quickly, much to your relief, as another friend launched into a tirade about her recent breakup. the focus was off you, and you exhaled silently, grateful for the distraction, but sorrowful for your close friend, her tragedy might have saved you the risk of suspicion.

˚ ༘♡ the next morning, when the campus was still quiet, you made your way to his office. you’d waited until you were confident he wouldn’t be there, unwilling to face him directly. the coat, carefully folded, was left on personally corner of his desk. a small note, written in your neat handwriting, sat on top, that read, “thank you for your kindness. it meant a lot.”

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated for a short while, staring at the note as if it might reveal too much. shaking your head, you placed it down and stepped back. the idea of thanking him in person felt too vulnerable, too revealing. you didn’t want to seem like some hopelessly infatuated girl, clinging to a singular polite act.

˚ ༘♡ with one last glance, you left his office, closing the door gently behind you. the feeling of the coat’s absence left you oddly empty, as though something intangible had been exchanged and lost.

˚ ༘♡ classes carried on as they always did, predictable in their routine but ridden with an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite shake. professor cho remained his ordinary self, strict and distant, but there were still those instances. quick eye contact that went on longer than it should have, the almost indistinguishable way his presence seemed to stretch when he was near you, as though tethered by something unsaid. you tried to dismiss it, to focus on your coursework, but the effort felt futile. those small gestures, though subtle, clawed at the foundation of your concentration.

˚ ༘♡ after a grueling day filled with back-to-back classes, your body ached with exhaustion, and all you wanted was a some peace and quiet. but as you packed your things to leave, your male friend, the same one who had failed professor cho’s course, caught up with you in the corridor. his persistence was palpable as he asked if he could speak to you in private. you tried to make an excuse, desperate to avoid the interaction, but he was relentless, and eventually, you agreed with a sigh.

˚ ༘♡ the conversation quickly turned to something you had been dreading. he asked you out, his attitude bordering on arrogance, as though he had already assumed your answer would be yes. you weren’t naive, you’d known for months that he was interested. he was a close friend of your best friend’s ex-boyfriend and had made it no secret, pestering them both to set the two of you up.

˚ ༘♡ but you couldn’t stand him. his cocky demeanor scraped on your nerves, and his delinquent mindset made you wary. still, you tried to let him down gently, choosing your words carefully, hoping to soften the blow.

˚ ༘♡ it didn’t work. his reaction was immediate and venomous, his face twisting in anger. “you’re such a stuck-up bitch,” he spat, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads in the hallway. the insult stung more than you’d expected, the words cutting into your already frayed composure.

˚ ༘♡ you stood motionless for a lasting minute, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, but the day’s troubles was too much. without another word, you turned and stepped away, the sound of his muttered curses chasing after you. the hallway blurred around you as the first tears fell, hot and unwelcome.

˚ ༘♡ by the time you stepped outside, the sky had descended into night, a blanket of stars casting a faint glow over the campus. the moonlight illuminated your tear-streaked face, streaks of black mascara smudged against your skin. you felt exposed and disheveled, a physical manifestation of your unraveling emotions.

˚ ༘♡ your goal was simple, get to the bus station and back to your dormitory as quickly as possible. the cold night air bit at your cheeks, making you wish you’d brought a scarf. but as you reached into your bag for your phone, your stomach dropped. it wasn’t there.

˚ ༘♡ a terrible realization hit you all at once, you must have left your belongings behind in the linguistics lecture hall. a frustrated sigh escaped your lips, mingling with the frosty air. it was the last thing you wanted to deal with after everything, and with your instructor having left, the classroom was locked with your belongings inside.

˚ ༘♡ to your dismay, as you approached the bus stop, you saw him, professor cho sang-woo, of all people. he must have been leaving after a long evening of grading in his office. he was standing by the curb, pulling out a cigarette from a silver case with the same precision he seemed to handle everything. you didn’t move, debating whether to turn away and avoid the humiliation of being seen like this, but it was too late. he flicked his lighter, the small flame briefly illuminating his sharp features, and as he tucked it back into the pocket of his blazer, his gaze caught yours.

˚ ༘♡ he paused, taking a drag from his cigarette. the glow of its ember reflected faintly in the dark, cold night. “what happened? are you alright?” his voice, as steady as ever, carried a thread of concern that you hadn’t expected.

˚ ༘♡ you tried to gather some semblance of serenity, forcing a weak smile through your tears. “we keep running into each other,” you said lightly, though your voice struggled under the burden of your emotions.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t smile back. instead, he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your tear-streaked face and the faint smudges of mascara under your eyes. “you’ve been crying,” he said.

˚ ༘♡ you quickly wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he stopped you with a quiet, “don’t.” reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, one you recognized, he often used it to polish his glasses. he held it out to you, his actions strangely tender.

˚ ༘♡ “i won’t press for details,” he said, his voice low, “but seeing you out here like this… it’s troubling for me.” a faint cloud of smoke curled from his lips as he spoke.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, gripping the handkerchief in your hands. the fabric was soft, clean, and smelled faintly of cedar and the faint musk of his cologne. “it’s nothing,” you mumbled, dabbing at your face. “i just… i left my purse in class. it has my phone, my bus pass, everything. and then this guy, he’s supposed to be my friend, pulled me aside earlier and asked me out. after i said no, he got angry, started yelling. said some awful things.”

˚ ༘♡ you bit your lip, your voice quivering, but you managed to add his name, the words feeling loathsome on your tongue.

˚ ༘♡ professor cho’s jaw tightened slightly, his composure cracking just enough to show his displeasure. “what an asshole,” he muttered, taking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling a sharp plume of smoke. the unexpected vulgarity caught you off guard. you’d never heard him speak so bluntly, so unguarded. “i remember him. he was in my class last year. didn’t turn in a single assignment, barely showed up. he is not the sort of young man you’d want to associate with.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t help it, you laughed, a hushed, strained sound that carried genuine amusement. his lips curved slightly, pleased that he’d managed to lighten your mood, even if just for a second.

˚ ༘♡ he tilted his head, studying you carefully. “you said you left your bus pass in your purse?”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded.

˚ ༘♡ he considered this for a minute before saying, “if you’d like, i can drive you back to your dormitory. it’s not far, and I know the route. my car’s in the faculty lot.”

˚ ༘♡ you blinked at him, startled by the offer. “really? you’d do that?”

˚ ༘♡ “it’s nothing,” he said simply, extinguishing his cigarette against the edge of a trash can and tossing the burnt end away. “you shouldn’t have to wait out here alone like this.”

˚ ༘♡ “thank you,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze with gratitude.

˚ ༘♡ he nodded and motioned for you to follow. as you walked beside him toward the faculty parking lot, the night air seemed a little less cold, the distress of the evening a little lighter. there was something strangely comforting about his presence, a stability that made you feel, if only for this night, that everything may be okay.

˚ ༘♡ his car was sleek, an understated black sedan that gleamed faintly under the dim glow of the parking lot lights. it exuded the same quiet sophistication as its owner. he walked ahead, opening the passenger door for you without a word, his demeanor calm but his eyes flickering with a subdued concern. you slid into the seat, the soft leather cool against your skin, and he closed the door gently before circling around to the driver’s side.

˚ ༘♡ the drive back to your dormitory was steeped in silence. the hum of the engine filled the void, rhythmic and constant, a soothing backdrop to your turbulent thoughts. though you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, you could feel his gaze darting toward you every so often, quick glances meant to check on you without drawing attention. your tears had stopped, but your face still bore the evidence of them, smudged mascara, blotchy redness, a weariness you couldn’t quite hide.

˚ ༘♡ when he finally pulled into the dormitory parking lot, the rows of empty cars seemed ghostly in the faint moonlight. he parked smoothly, the stillness settling in the air as he turned off the engine. for a brief period of time, neither of you moved.

˚ ༘♡ he stepped out first, rounding the car to open your door once more. you followed, the cold night air pricking at your skin as you stood beside him. his posture was relaxed, but there was an unspoken tension between the two of you.

˚ ༘♡ “are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asked, his voice low and sincere, though his eyes searched yours for any trace of uncertainty.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “i will. thank you, again. for everything.”

˚ ༘♡ your gaze locked with his then, and right then, the world around you seemed to fade. the misery of the evening, the lingering emotions, and the vulnerability you felt collided into a singular, reckless impulse. before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t pull away. instead, his hands rested lightly on your arms as he kissed you back, his movements slow and deliberate, almost tender. the passionate embrace stretched, suspended in time, filled with affectionate understanding and the quiet ruination of boundaries you had both carefully maintained until now.

˚ ༘♡ when you finally parted, you stared at each other in silence, breaths mingling in the frigid, icy air. the reality of what you’d just done lingered between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the line you had crossed, the agreement broken. and yet, there was no regret in his eyes, and you felt none in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ he cleared his throat, his voice measured but somewhat huskier than usual. “i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

˚ ༘♡ a soft smile spread across your lips, gentle but laced with something deeper. “i will,” you replied.

˚ ༘♡ as he walked back to his car, you turned toward the dormitory entrance, your heart ached with something bittersweet. you knew everything had changed, even if neither of you would speak it in words.

a/n: part two of my professor cho sang-woo series!!! please let me know your thoughts or if you have any requests!! i plan to continue this series, but i am also considering doing a zombie apocalypse sang-woo fanfiction and maybe one where he is the reader’s boss!! 🤍

[girlgenius1111]

waiting room

alexia breaks up with you for reasons you don't understand. she only realizes her mistake when she thinks she's going to lose you.

You thought about it every second, for days. It didn't make sense, why Alexia had broken up with you. Her reasoning was completely unclear, she stumbled through the breakup, spewing cliches. It didn't matter though, not really. She'd broken up with you, and that was it. All you could do was focus on football, take training one day at a time. Seeing her every day, stony faced, was indescribably painful.

No one on the team really understood what had happened to the both of you, which really just made things easier. There were no sides chosen, you simply coexisted.

You pushed all thoughts of her out of your head, focusing on warm ups. It was hard; she looked so stunning in the warm up jersey, blonde hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, and you could have sworn that you kept catching her looking at you. You needed to focus though.

The game wasn't supposed to be a tough one, and it remained a boring one well into the second half. There wasn't much time left when you went down. You jumped in the air for a header, and another body had collided with you, shoulder hitting your head, sending you slamming back down to the ground. You were conscious after the first hit, but when you made contact with the ground, your head banging down with a sickening thud, everything went black.

Alexia was sprinting across the field to you before the whistle had even blown, panic coursing through her veins. She was the first one to you, somehow, collapsing onto her knees next to your limp form.

"Y/n! Can you hear me?" Alexia pleaded, hands fluttering uselessly above your body, terrified to touch you. You didn't react at the sound of her voice, not moving a muscle. You were on your side, face pressed into the grass. "Amor, please," Alexia said, not caring if people heard, not caring if you weren't together, not caring about anything except you being okay. The physios were arriving, and someone was tugging her away from you. Mariona held her back, as the midfielder stared helplessly at you.

The physios were worried, and they were never worried. You still weren't moving, and Alexia thought she was going to lose her mind. All she could do was watch.

Watch as they brought the stretcher out, the neck brace. Watch as they carefully lifted you onto it. The game was completely forgotten, the noise of the stadium reduced to static in her ears. She willed you, with everything in her, to open your eyes, to move, to do anything. You didn't, though, remaining completely motionless as they moved you off the field.

"Ale,"

She turned, belatedly realizing that Mario was talking to her.

"Do you need to go off?" she asked. She knew her captain well, and could tell that Alexia wasn't mentally on the field anymore. Her brain had gone with you, following you down the tunnel.

"What if she's not okay," Alexia replied, completely disregarding the question asked to her. At that, Mario motioned to the sidelines, and Jona nodded in understanding.

"She's gonna be fine, she's tough. Go off the field, go check on her," Alexia didn't know when Marta had arrived next to her, but there she was, tugging the captain's armband off the blonde, and gently nudging her to the sidelines.

Alexia looked lost as she walked off the field, almost dazed. She bypassed the bench completely, walking down the tunnel after you. Jana and Mapi were waiting there, Mapi on her crutches. Alexia didn't even see them, not really, mind focused only on finding you.

Jana grabbed her captain's arm softly, drawing Alexia's attention to the brunette. "They're taking her to the hospital. If we go now, we'll get there just after the ambulance," Jana told her. Alexia nodded, not saying a word, beginning to walk briskly to the parking lot. She was still in her kit, still in her boots, but she would be damned if you had to sit in the hospital alone for any amount of time.

What if you weren't okay? She'd messed everything up, ruined it all. She'd let her insecurity take over, convinced herself that she wasn't good enough for you, pushed you away despite your insistence that she was all you wanted. She'd broken up with you for nothing, and now you were.... hurt? She didn't even know. All she knew was that the last thing she'd said to you had been a monotone, half assed explanation. It had been a lie. She shouldn't have done it. She loved you, she understood that now more than she ever had. What if you weren't okay?

-----

You became aware of a steady pounding in your head. Your mouth felt dry, and your body felt stiff. Still, you were floating somewhere in between being awake and being asleep, and you could hear the machines beeping around you. Opening your eyes seemed like a monumental task, so instead, you focused on the way you felt.

You weren't quite sure what had happened. The last thing you remembered was jumping for a header, and then... nothing. Your head hurt, though, that was for sure. You tried to shift your fingers and your toes, suddenly terrified that you were paralyzed. They twitched under you, though, and you could feel the seam of the sock on your toes, and the tight grip your hand was in.

"She moved her hand," a voice said. Alexia. She sounded exhausted, terrified. She squeezed your hand, and you heard shuffling in the room.

"Amor, can you hear me?" she asked. Amor? You were pretty sure she'd broken up with you. Amusingly, this thought seemed to spur you through the last dregs of sleep, and you forced your eyes open. Alexia's face was inches from yours, and if you weren't too busy groaning in pain as the light hit your eyes, you would have been startled.

"Oh god, you're awake. Thank god. How do you feel?" Alexia spoke, a hand coming up to lightly, lightly, stroke your face.

You cleared your throat. "Didn't you dump me?" you rasped, looking at her in confusion. She let out a watery laugh that turned into a sob, before she buried her head into your abdomen, blankets muffling her cries. You looked around, bewildered at her behavior. You noticed the others in the room, then, Ingrid and Mapi, Marta and Patri, as Mapi placed a hand on Alexia's trembling back, rolling her eyes.

"She's been like this for the past 2 days," Mapi said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. You just blinked at her. 2 days? You'd been out for 2 days? Alexia was still crying, though, and the sound was cracking your chest open, hurting more than your head did. Placing a gentle hand on her head, you called her name.

"Ale, honey? Are you alright?" Her head snapped up. She looked like a mess. The most beautiful mess you'd ever seen, but still. She had tear tracks staining her face, bags under her eyes, and her lip was trembling pitifully.

"Am I alright? You've been in a coma for 2 days, and you're asking me if i'm alright?" she asked, seemingly baffled by your question. Mapi nodded to the other girls, tilting her head towards the door. They all rose, leaving you and Alexia in the room by yourselves. You were going to respond to her, assure her that you were fine, but she was talking before you could get any words out.

"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. I shouldn't have broken up with you, I didn't mean it. I got all in my head, and I was worried I couldn't give you what you deserved, and I was trying to protect you, and then you went down, and I couldn't even function. I can't live without you, y/n, and I'm so sorry," she said the words rushed, as if worried you were going to cut her off, not let her finish.

You didn't say anything, the new information entering your currently very slow moving brain. Alexia's hands were wrapped in the blanket, and tears were pouring down her cheeks, yet she remained silent, giving you time to process.

"You... you broke up with me because you didn't think you were good enough for me?" You asked finally, working hard to keep your voice neutral. It was the most preposterous thing you'd ever heard, truly. Alexia nodded, not trusting her voice.

"That is one of the stupidest things i've ever heard. Seriously idiotic, Alexia. I thought I made it clear, I thought you knew that I loved you, that I only wanted you. You've always been enough for me," you told her. You knew that you should probably be mad at her, but she looked so broken, and her reasoning for breaking up with you made your heart ache for her. You couldn't be mad, not at her.

"Loved?" she asked quietly, referring to the past tense with which you'd phrased your sentence.

"Love," you corrected. "I didn't get hit hard enough to stop loving you." She smiled weakly at you, through her tears, before dropping her head back down to rest against your stomach. You ran your fingers through her hair, detangling gently as you went, and she sighed contentedly at your motions.

"I was so worried," she mumbled into you.

"What happened anyway?" you asked, only really caring to know now that Alexia had stopped crying. She picked her head up, realizing she'd given you no information on your condition.

"You hit your head. Hard. Twice. You have a concussion, and your brain swelled, and they almost had to do brain surgery, but it improved," she told you, and you could feel the worry that had had her heart in it's clenched fist loosening as she looked at you.

"When can I play again?" you asked and she snorted, because of course, that's what you were thinking about.

"The doctors say a few months, but I'm not sure I'm letting you out of the house ever again unless you're wrapped in bubble wrap."

"No," you said, "you just can't break up with me again, and I won't need to go getting major head injuries to bring you to your senses."

She laughed then, a real laugh, a real smile adorning her face. She leaned in, placing her lips on yours ever so gently, and you could feel her smiling still against your face.

"I love you," you whispered against her lips, and she whispered it back, leaning her forehead against yours. You'd be fine. You could have any injury, really, and be fine, as long as you had Alexia.

-----

slightly different from the request, but i hope you liked it :)

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - Archive Anthology - Stony Volume 1

A collection of fics all written by Areiton (@areiton)

let me hear (your battle cry) | chains around my daemons | monsters of sea & sky | inspired | muse

Fandom: Marvel

Ship: Steve Rogers / Tony Stark

Start Date: 10/07/24

End Date: 11/25/24

Pages: 355

First Archive Anthology book. This is a collection of 5 of my favorite Arei Stony fics. They are all also from 2021, which I did not mean to do but just so happen to realize as I was typesetting. I wanted to start this proof of concept project with someone who I A) knew and B) would be cool with me using their fics as a test.

So, the cover. She's beautiful. For the AA series, I want the covers to be the uniform - so every Stony book will copy this cover type, but the colors will shift to blue and white for Vol 2, and then back to red and gold for Vol 3. I sketched out the Iron Man that I wanted myself and made an SVG for the first time, leave me alone, adding the swoosh marks to him and to Steve's shield. I wanted a simple, classic looking font for a universal text title. This book series wont have quotes on the back so instead I have a full spread of the graphic. Tony's the icon on the spine this time - and I think he looks great~

Ah! The side shot. I used my guillotine for the first time - so the chop on this bitch is CHRISP. Headband is gold and handstitched. The whole side profile? Crispy like fall leaves.

Title page shots. A TOC (that I only notices was a little low after I had printed both copies) with a new and customized copyright page. I looked at a bunch of pages in the Renegade Bindery discord and compiled something that felt right AND specific to this project going forward.

Typesetting this was not…bad. It did take a while while I worked out fonts and overall ideas, but ones I had them I was able to fly through. There are quite a few here, so lets take a peak...

I kept Let me hear a little simple - with more medieval drop caps and banner headers. This fic is the only one with a nontypical drop caps - but with how simple the titles were I wanted a little bit more. I also - as per my standard - did this fic first, and then started to dig down and get more complicated the further in I got.

Chains has a little more flavor - each chapter has a splash of color. Originally I had hyper detailed headers for this fic, but they just look like SO MUCH, and I couldn't figure out a way to make them look uniform with the different daemons I was showcasing. Scaling back with a flash of color, but not to much, feels much better for this fic. Also realized that I need to figure out how to trim to what my printer considerers a 'full page'.

mos&s has a little more character for the headers, where I pull peace out from each chapter to add to the title. This chapter header - and the last one - are my favorite. I used hand drawn lines to highlight under each chapter title, and pulled a color for the splash image to match with both that line and the matching line breaks in the chapters.

inspired is told from Tony's point of view - so I kept the chapter titles black and white, with harder linework and a focused idea from in each of the chapters.

In contrast, muse is told from Steve's POV - so every chapter header is an explosion of color. They're all based on a variety of art mediums - spray paint, stamp art, charcoal, oil pints, anything I could find that I remember ever doing myself. I also colored each of the drop caps a contrasting color to what the header art is.

All in all, I'm very happy with how this came out. This is the blueprint I'll use for any of my Anthology books going forward. I already have at least three more in mind for Stony specifically, and then a collection of Raven Boys and Good Omens ones that are not long enough to be a book by themselves but I still want THEM ON MY SHELVES.

Thank you again Arei - your wonderful <3 Go read Arei's fics ASAP!

[holylulusworld]

Stony Masterlist

Masterlist for all Stony (Steve x Tony) stories.

Please consider, that these stories have no reader insert.

Contains: 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 💦 smut // 🖤 light smut // 🤍 implied smut // 😈 darkish // 🐺 A/B/O

We used to be friends masterlist... feat. Bucky Barnes

Find more MCU stories here: Marvel Masterlist

Divider & header by me *for my blog use only*

[nuadox]

Scientists have mapped and identified the largest known deep-sea coral reef habitat in the world

- By Nuadox Crew -

A newly published study reveals the discovery of the world's largest known deep-sea coral reef habitat off the southeast coast of the United States, covering an area larger than Vermont, or 6.4 million acres.

Image: Illustration of multibeam bathymetric data depicting coral mound features situated on the Blake Plateau. Credit: Sowers, et al.

The study, titled "Mapping and Geomorphic Characterization of the Vast Cold-Water Coral Mounds of the Blake Plateau," utilized bathymetric data from 31 multibeam sonar mapping surveys, led by NOAA Ocean Exploration.

The automated mapping system identified 83,908 individual coral mound peak features in the region, providing the first estimate of the total number of potential cold-water coral mounds. The coral province spans up to 500 kilometers long and 110 kilometers wide, with a core area of high-density mounds. The discovery, named "Million Mounds," is primarily composed of Desmophyllum pertusum, a stony coral, and provides valuable insights into coral populations and connectivity, aiding in the development of conservation plans for these poorly understood deep-sea ecosystems.

--

Header image: The majority of the deep-sea coral reef habitat on the Blake Plateau in the Atlantic Ocean consists of densely packed clusters of the reef-building coral Desmophyllum pertusum (formerly known as Lophelia pertusa). The healthy white coloring is notable, as deep-sea corals, lacking symbiotic algae dependence, do not undergo bleaching. These coral images were captured during a dive expedition off the coast of Florida in 2019. Credit: NOAA Ocean Exploration.

Source: NOAA Ocean Exploration

Full study: Sowers DC, Mayer LA, Masetti G, Cordes E, Gasbarro R, Lobecker E, Cantwell K, Candio S, Hoy S, Malik M, et al. Mapping and Geomorphic Characterization of the Vast Cold-Water Coral Mounds of the Blake Plateau. Geomatics. 2024; 4(1):17-47. https://doi.org/10.3390/geomatics4010002

Read Also

AI can track health of coral reefs via sound analysis

[rainbeaufunfetti]

Intro + Directory

Hello everyone! I figured I might as well make a more cleaned-up pinned post, since the first one was old and a bit out-dated. I'll put the important links first for ease of navigation, and the intro proper under a cut.

My About Page- TBA.

Other Places- A page to link to other blogs or social media, or even a website if I ever get around to making one. TBA.

My Ko-Fi- I offer commissions and sell adopts here on occasion! (Don't mind the header atm, since I don't actually use most of those sites very much; it just looked naked without them. Also RIP CoHost; you could've been so cool if your operators weren't so fucking stupid...)

What is this blog for?

It's a blog that's primarily for SFW furry art, as well as a bit of kidcore/rainbowcore/scenecore sort of aesthetics- think furry art that was popular in the mid to late 2000's to early 10's and you'll have the idea. I'm aroace, and don't really care for a lot of fetishes besides, so I do my best to keep anything sexually charged off of the blog, because I don't want to think about that here; this is not what it's for.

Who are you?

I am me! I dunno yet how I want to be addressed on this blog. I'd prefer they/them as a start, though. (Bit of a disclaimer; I am, in fact, cis, but I feel really uncomfortable being referred to by my usual pronouns by strangers online. I feel disgruntled every time someone mistakes me for a boy, tho, so this is just to avoid that mistake right off the bat. Being disrespectful of this choice in any direction gets you blocked.) It is important to note that I am still an adult, and therefore reserve the right to talk like one (i.e. cursing like a sailor on occasion, tho I'll try to reign that in a little here).

What's with the "dragon"?

That's Beau! Rainbeau Velvette, to be more specific. He has a sister but I haven't finalized her design yet. Some of his own design is subject to change a little, as well, but some details like his body color and his belly and the golden ganache were details that were planned from the beginning. Basically his deal is that he's the mascot for this blog! Him and his sister, and maybe an as-of-yet unconceived third entity. His sister Darke Velvette is basically his opposite, visually and personality-wise. She's not mean or angry, though; she just comes across as kinda stony, and maybe has a little RBF going on. It's only partially intentional.

This is all I've got for now. This post is subject to be changed or replaced in the not-so-distant future, especially as I adjust the blog from time to time (I still haven't settled on a theme yet and it's bugging me bc my needs are both vague yet specific).

[iishmael]

I just replaced my header image!!! If anyone accesses my actual blog on browser there will still be the stony kiss gif so I haven’t cut ALL ties to marvel (lbr tony will forever own a piece of my heart) … still feels like a huge step 🥺

Anyways be glad I can’t do the thing where it plays the top gun soundtrack when you go on my blog 🤓

[m4rvelstuffs]

credit to warriorstvd and like if u use/save.

[marvelocks]

reblog or “♡” if you save.

[someiconsx]

stony header + lockscreen.      ✧ like or reblog if you use/save.      ✧ @dearcardan on twitter.

[versicons]

Reblog or "♡" if you save/use

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ scarface ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ berlin x hostage!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ “i’m afraid you comrades have become our hostages.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t see the man speaking, none of you could. the blindfold pressed against your face, blocking the light that shone through the polished windows, just as the criminals had blocked every avenue of escape. you stood no different to the others lined up alongside you, all you could do was listen. the nervous shuffling of feet, muffled sobs, and the erratic breathing of strangers filled the air, feeding your already frayed nerves. the tension was suffocating, tightening around your chest like an iron grip.

˚ ༘♡ you were not supposed to be here. as an executive assistant for the korean mint, your job revolved around order, organizing reports, managing schedules, ensuring things ran smoothly. yet none of that prepared you for this chaos. the only reason you were here at this godforsaken hour was because the sleazy director had called you back after your shift ended. under the pretense of a scheduling issue, he had summoned you to his office, but his leering gaze and thinly veiled intentions made you regret not making an excuse to stay home. now, that regret burned even brighter, a pang of apprehension wretched in your stomach.

˚ ༘♡ the voice came again, stony and slicing through the panicked murmurs of the hostages. heavy footsteps echoed in the vast room, measured and unhurried, each step landing with intent. your pulse quickened. the sound grew closer, louder, more oppressive, until it felt as if it would stop directly in front of you. and to your fright, it did.

˚ ༘♡ a hand reached out, rough and sure, grasping your face. it wasn’t harsh enough to hurt, but there was no tenderness in it either, only control. your breath grew unstable as you felt the blindfold torn away, the fabric scraping against your skin. the sudden exposure to light stung your eyes, but you didn’t dare look up. fear rooted you in place, your gaze fixed on the ground as your hands trembled at your sides.

˚ ༘♡ “look up.” the voice was deep, mocking, the hint of a smirk woven into the thick north korean accent. the command wasn’t shouted, but it didn’t need to be. its weight was undeniable, pressing down on you like a hand on your throat. trembling, you hesitated, your fear begging you to keep staring at the floor.

˚ ༘♡ “i said, look up.” this time, there was steel in his tone, and the words struck like a whip. your body betrayed you before your mind could argue. slowly, reluctantly, you lifted your gaze.

˚ ༘♡ and that’s when you saw him.

˚ ༘♡ a man stood before you, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. his features were pointed and unyielding, his sun-tanned skin stretched over high cheekbones and a jaw that clenched with latent superiority. his dark hair was slicked back, further emphasizing the austerity of his appearance. he did not wear a hahoe mask like the others. you could see his face clearly, and that fact alone sent a frigid sensation of fear through your veins. there was only one conclusion to draw from this, you would not leave here alive. no one could see a criminal’s face and live to tell the tale.

˚ ༘♡ “hmm.” his voice was quiet as he pondered what was on his mind, the sound of it drawing your breath to a halt. he leaned in, his piercing gaze narrowing as it swept over your face, studying you with disturbing focus. your chest rose and fell in rapid succession, struggling to expel the air caught in your lungs.

˚ ༘♡ “take a deep breath, would you?” his words were deceptively calm, but there was an authority in them you dared not defy.

˚ ༘♡ your hands trembled as you tried to obey, forcing an unstable inhale that did little to steady your racing heart. his eyes landed on your wool coat, where your phone protruded in the pocket. before you could react, he extended his hand.

˚ ༘♡ “give it to me.”

˚ ༘♡ hesitantly, you reached into your coat, stiff with fear, and handed the device to him. the instant it left your grasp, he tossed it to the ground. the sound of the screen shattering against the cold floor jolted you, but what came next made your stomach drop. with one swift motion, he raised his boot and brought it down, crushing the phone into a pile of broken glass and metal.

˚ ༘♡ you gasped aloud, stepping back as your limbs threatened to give out. your lips parted in shock, but he remained unfazed, standing there as if nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m berlin,” he introduced himself, his tone harsh and taunting. his gaze didn’t move as he continued, his voice softening into a contemplative murmur. “and you… you’re the daughter of the korean defense minister, aren’t you?”

˚ ༘♡ his words slashed through the sinister atmosphere, leaving you motionless where you stood.

˚ ༘♡ “i recognize your face now.” his lips twisted into a bemused grin. “tell me, why is the daughter of a wealthy minister working as a lackey in the mint?”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t answer. your voice, if it even existed, was trapped somewhere between fear and disbelief. your eyes darted down to the shattered remains of your phone, then back up to meet his unyielding gaze. the glass fragments seemed to glint like shards of your own hope scattered across the floor.

˚ ༘♡ what he said was true. you were the eldest daughter of the defense minister, a man appointed to his position after the unification of korea. your father, once a prominent figure in the south korean national assembly, had earned his power and influence through a career focused on military affairs. but none of that mattered now. the consequence of that identity, the very thing you had tried so hard to keep hidden, was now fully exposed.

˚ ༘♡ berlin turned away from you with an air of satisfaction, as though he had uncovered some magnificent treasure. “how lucky are we, huh, denver?” he said, addressing one of the masked criminals in a red jumpsuit. his tone was darkly delighted, dripping with smug arrogance. “the daughter of such a prominent figure, right here, as our hostage.”

˚ ༘♡ “sir…” you finally managed to stammer, your voice weak. every fiber of your being told you that begging or pleading would be futile, this heist was too carefully planned, too calculated for something as pitiful as that to persuade them. yet, despite the tremor in your voice, you forced the words out. “if… if i could just know the reason behind your mission.”

˚ ༘♡ he sneered at your question, his lip curling as if amused by your naïveté. “that,” he said coldly, his tone sharp enough to slice through you, “is none of your concern.” he stepped closer, and you instinctively leaned back, though there was nowhere to go. “don’t waste my time with stupid questions. it will do you no good.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could retreat further, his hand reached out, firm fingers tilting your chin upward. his dark eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your pulse thunder in your ears. his touch was ice-cold, akin to winter frost against your skin, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

˚ ༘♡ “moscow,” he barked, not breaking his gaze from yours, “head upstairs and inform the professor of our… fortunate discovery. i think he’ll find it rather interesting.”

˚ ༘♡ a stout man, dressed identically to the rest of the criminals, gave a nod and slung his rifle over his shoulder. without a word, he ascended the staircase, his laced boots thudding against the metal steps.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced around, your fear morphing into panic as your gaze drifted over the rest of the room. your co-workers from the mint, along with the high school students from the field trip, were still lined up, trembling and blindfolded. their muffled whimpers and shaky breathing filled the space like a grim symphony.

˚ ༘♡ but berlin’s attention was locked solely on you. “you,” he said, his voice dropping to something inexplicable, perhaps intimate, yet no less dangerous, “don’t belong here with the rest of the hostages, do you? no, you’re quite special.”

˚ ༘♡ his grip constructed around your arm suddenly, rough enough to make you wince. “rio, tokyo,” he barked, not sparing a glance at the others. “get the rest of the hostages dressed and armed. i’ll handle our guest here.”

˚ ༘♡ two figures stepped forward from the line of criminals. the younger man, who you assumed was rio, removed his mask without reluctance and began moving to obey berlin’s orders. his expression was subdued, almost resigned, as though this were routine. the woman, tokyo, followed suit, her softer features contorting into a glare she didn’t bother to hide from berlin. though she clearly didn’t agree, she complied without protest.

˚ ༘♡ before you could process what was happening, berlin began dragging you toward the stairs. his grip was unrelenting, and you stumbled to keep pace. the acrid scent of cigarette smoke clung to his breath, filling your senses and heightening your unease.

˚ ༘♡ as you were pulled upstairs, you glanced over your shoulder. the rest of the hostages were being herded like sheep, their blindfolds removed and their devices confiscated. there was an air of chaos and helplessness, but the criminals operated with a cold precision that made it all the more horrifying.

˚ ༘♡ you knew he had ordered you not to speak, but the aching concern for your colleagues at the mint outweighed your better judgment. you forced the words out, your voice barely above a whisper, “sir, what will happen to the others?”

˚ ༘♡ his reaction was instant, cruel and unforgiving. “enough with the questions. are you deaf?” his tone was laced with irritation, his hand tightening on your arm as he halted at the top of the stairs. his free hand moved briskly to rest on the rifle slung across his chest, an action that sent your pulse into overdrive. “as long as they do as they’re told,” he said coldly, his eyes flicking down to meet yours, “they’ll live.”

˚ ༘♡ the intent behind his words sank solemnly in your chest, but they provided little comfort. what did doing as they’re told mean? what did that entail? you didn’t dare ask for clarification. fear had locked your throat shut.

˚ ༘♡ at the end of the hallway, he forced you into a conference room. it was meant to be a professional space, a place for meetings, discussions, plans, but now it felt like a suffocating cage. berlin shoved you forward with a careless force that sent you stumbling to the floor. the tawny carpet felt rough beneath your hands, and as you tried to gather yourself, you realized your legs wouldn’t stop shaking. you were trembling so violently that getting back up seemed impossible.

˚ ༘♡ he stood over you, shaking his head with a theatrical sigh, his expression twisted into something resembling mock pity. “get up,” he ordered, his voice ridden with feigned concern. “it’s a pathetic sight. if i wanted to kill you, don’t you think i’d have done it by now?”

˚ ༘♡ yet even his attempt to rationalize your survival did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. when you didn’t rise fast enough, he moved toward you, his impatience evident. before you could brace yourself, his hands gripped your waist, hauling you to your feet with little regard for your pitiful form.

˚ ༘♡ “relax, damn it!” he lashed out, though there was no softness in the demand. his hands lingered a second too long before he let go, stepping back. “you’ve got the easy end of this,” he continued, nodding toward the door. “out there? they’re the ones who’ll do the hard labor. you? you get to stay here, comfortably out of the way.”

˚ ༘♡ your eyes widened, the tears you’d been holding back streaking down your pallid cheeks. you couldn’t stop yourself from inquiring, the words escaping your mouth negligently. “but why… why do i need to stay here?”

˚ ༘♡ his lips curved into a faint, sardonic smile, as though your confusion entertained him. “another question,” he droned, his tone coarsely indulgent. “but i’ll allow it, i was going to tell you anyway.”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, the austerity of his presence bearing down on you. “the police will come,” he began, his voice calm but charged with menace. “it’s only a matter of time. they’ll gather intel on the crisis, and they’ll try to ruin everything for us, storm the building, act recklessly.” he paused, his dark eyes boring into yours. “but they won’t. not when they know we have the minister of defense’s daughter in our grasp.”

˚ ༘♡ the reveal of the grand scheme hit you like a blow, leaving you breathless. you stared up at him, horrified, as the full reality of your situation sank in. you weren’t merely a hostage, you were leverage, a bargaining chip, a pawn in their game. and there was no escaping it.

˚ ༘♡ “i already know what you’re going to say,” berlin said, his voice deadly quiet, yet every word seemed to reverberate in the air around you. his finger grazed your cheekbone, the touch sedated and delicate, as if savoring the terror etched across your face. the lightest brush of his skin against yours was enough to send a shudder through your body. his hand continued its path, stopping just at the curve of your rosy lips, his dark eyes watching your every reaction with a formidable pleasure.

˚ ༘♡ “and if the police don’t heed your father’s words?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as though contemplating the question himself. his finger hovered over your lips, lingering just long enough to make you careen in your stance. “then that pretty face of yours won’t see another day.”

˚ ༘♡ there was a chilling contradiction in his expression, brutality melded with a macabre thrill, as if he relished the power he held over you and everyone else. it was distressing in its intensity, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away, no matter how much you wanted to.

˚ ༘♡ he pulled back slightly, his tone shifting into something almost casual, as though he hadn’t delivered a forthcoming death threat. “if the police act accordingly, it won’t have to come to that,” he said, his tone smooth and reassuring. “you’ll leave here unscathed, so don’t worry too much.”

˚ ༘♡ he smirked then, the expression devoid of true sincerity but brimming with confidence. “i’m willing to believe your dear father will do everything in his power to ensure his precious daughter’s safety. a man like him doesn’t let something like you go to waste. he would heaven and earth for you, wouldn’t he?”

˚ ༘♡ your politician father’s influence, his position, his wealth, it had all painted a target on your back. now, you were nothing more than power in their hands, a negotiation tool that could either save or destroy you. and berlin appeared to revel in the knowledge of it.

a/n: a money heist korea fanfiction for berlin! let me know if you have anymore requests for him as well as your thoughts! 🤍

[mrvxtstuff]

MARVEL HEADERS COLLAGE 

Please LIKE if you save;

More about Marvel;

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - Thrust Issues

Thrust Issues by @sineala

Fandom: Marvel (Comics)

Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Start Date: 3/31/24

End Date: 4/11/24

Pages: 314

Oh sweet Thrust Issues. Look at this cover. This was another one that I knew INSTANTLY what I wanted to do. Only had a few sections of the vinyl fight with me here, and I learned how adding to much glue when I'm making the casing can bleed through the book cloth and stain it. Ugh.

Name of the game for this bind was: Simply bold. Clean lines, consistent headers, nothing TO much. It was a challenge to see how quickly I could get the book set and bound. The answer is a week and a half.

Ugh the spine - she's also beautiful. This was also the first time i uses substantial davy board for the cover - so this is my first book with that lovely groove on the cover.

The inside pages are also simple - heavy on the lines lines lines, and one of my favorite actual lines from the fic. My end paper that you can just see here is VERY boring - what I had in my craft stock. Reminder to myself: Next version? Make your own end papers.

Typeset! Also simple. The headers build out a heart, with each chapter stacking more and more lines. Kept the stutter text like on the cover for the chapter names, pulled out the numbers and made the drop caps OVERSIZED. Simple, clean, statements that don't distract from this fucking masterwork of idiots-to-lovers fic.

Last shot I have is of the butt. This is the last time I used pre-made headbands. Also shows how loose the casing was - that gap between the spines? HUGE. A CAVERN. AND I didn't trim the pages. I was to afraid after I had FUCKED up All thats said's pages.

All in all, this I think that this bind was a tipping point. Having property sized cover boards really did it, and seeing how quick I could bind a fic was also helpful.

Thrust Issues is a peace of angsty art - and, In my opinion, a necessary Stony read. Sineala is a huge inspiration - one of my gateway Stony authors, and happened to be the one to point me toward better resources to bind books. Her kindness, creativity, and patience knows no bounds - and I'm happy that she was so open and kind with allowing me to transform her work. Go follow her and follow her and read her stuff.

Pssssst, also - if you wanted one of my binds for yourself, I'm participating in MTH this year and would be happy to make one for you!

[packsclass]

icons: @ztarkedits (2 icons), @focusedits

headers: @jessewstuff (2 headers), @someiconsx

like/reblog or credits on twitter @/sunwroses