#wrong pattern really but double checked to late

[ganondoodle]

(desperate attempt to find my drawing spirit again number ?? )

this time .. unicorn centaurs?

[thelastsurvivinggirl]

‘The last survivor’

Slenderman x reader

You never believed in Slenderman.

Just a childish horror story. A myth invented by the internet and passed around by bored kids. Your group of friends, of course, was obsessed with that stuff — creepypastas, horror games, rituals from Reddit.

You even tried summoning things before, always ending in laughter when nothing happened.

But this time felt… different.

They talked you into going to the forest. Late October, cold fog creeping in, dry leaves crunching beneath your boots. There were eight of you — enough not to be scared.

Among you was Adam — the joker, the one who always scared others for fun.

He organized it all.

Brought printed instructions for a “ritual to summon him” from some obscure forum thread that promised “you’ll hear him breathe.”

—This is gonna be epic, — he said. — C’mon, it’s just for fun.

You didn’t participate. Sat a little ways off on a fallen log, just watching them stand in a circle, lighting candles and reading that dumb text. You were just… there.

An observer.

Maybe that’s what saved you.

Nothing happened. Not really. Adam jumped out from behind trees a few times, tried to spook people. Everyone laughed. You all went back to town and eventually home.

The next day, the first note appeared.

“He watches.”

Taped to the school’s front door. Then another — on Sophie’s backpack. Then Max found one inside his textbook.

Everyone figured it was Adam again.

His kind of joke.

He denied it — not very convincingly.

Then came a different note. This one wasn’t written in the same handwriting. It looked rough, smeared. There were dark stains.

And a drawing — a tall, faceless figure, with limbs reaching out to smaller people.

That’s when things shifted.

People got nervous. Some joked about it, some just stopped texting. Then Thomas disappeared — the one who, during the ritual, had laughed:

— How can anyone be scared of that crap? What, he eats little girls or something? Gross. — Everyone laughed at him.

Then he was just… gone. Didn’t show up to school. Phone off. Cops said maybe he ran away — trouble at home.

The next day, another note. Left on the bench outside school.

“I see you.”

One by one, your friends vanished. Sophie. Max. Alina. And after each disappearance — another note. Always short. Always that same figure.

Police started looking at you.

You were there when they found the notes. You were the last one left. They didn’t believe in urban legends.

They believed in patterns.

And you? You stopped sleeping.

At night, something flickers outside your window. The kitchen table — one you’re sure you cleaned — sometimes has black smudges, shaped like fingers.

And every time — a new note.

The last one.

“You are not alone.”

On it — a drawing of you. Scribbled in rough, frantic lines. Sitting in your kitchen, back turned to the viewer. Behind you — Slenderman.

Bent over you. His mouth stretched into something that’s almost a smile. His arms… inside you.

You glance around your kitchen. Everything looks normal.

But something feels… wrong.

The silence is too deep.

And you think you can hear… breathing.

Is this the end?

No.

You didn’t know why you grabbed the knife.

It was dull, a regular kitchen knife. Nothing special. But the moment your fingers wrapped around the cold handle, a strange feeling settled in — not safety, no, but some illusion of control.

Something, anything, that might let you fight back. It wouldn’t help — but it made things feel slightly less hopeless.

The house was silent. Too silent.

You locked all the windows, double-checked the doors.

You even shoved a chair under the handle like they do in movies. But deep down, you knew — it was all an illusion. If he wanted to come in, nothing would stop him.

Then you found the ninth note.

"Mine."

It was different. Neatly written, almost calligraphic, as if someone took their time — wrote it with a strange tenderness. No terrifying sketch this time. Just your name.

Simply your name.

And a heart — crooked, black-and-white. But still… a heart.

It was more terrifying than any horror drawing.

What was this? A threat? A confession?

You remembered how it sometimes felt… like he wasn’t just watching. He was studying. Not hiding — waiting. Sometimes, in mirrors, you’d catch a glimpse of a dark figure behind you, but it wouldn’t move.

Wouldn’t attack.

Just stood there.

Always silent. As if something was holding him back.

You heard breathing again.

You turned — nothing.

But the knife was already raised.

— Leave me alone! — you shouted into the empty room.

No answer.

But when you looked at the wall, you saw something new — a message, scrawled in a dark, viscous fluid. It was still wet, glistening faintly, and you had no idea what it was.

"Never."

And something in the air shifted. Not the temperature. Not the sound. But the very mood of the space around you.

Like the air had thickened.

Like arms, invisible, wrapping around your chest — holding tight.

Like an embrace you’d never escape.

Ever since you saw that message traced on the wall, everything began to fall apart. You weren’t afraid of him — you were afraid of what your life was becoming because of him.

Disappearances had become part of your reality. One by one: friends, acquaintances, neighbors. And each time — you were the last person to see them.

It wasn’t just a coincidence anymore.

The police had stopped asking questions — now they were looking for evidence. They were watching you.

And then something real appeared.

A metal container, left outside the police station.

Inside — a piece of cloth, soaked in blood.

A fragment of human skin with your name carved into it — rough, but unmistakable.

It turned out to be Adam’s body...

No fingerprints.

No camera footage.

Nothing but your name — like a brand burned into flesh. You sat across from them, listening to their dry questions, staring into their tired eyes.

They weren’t looking for a suspect anymore.

They were trying to pin it all on you.

You denied everything.

You knew who was behind it.

You knew how it all began.

But you would never say it out loud — no one would believe you. Because the moment you said it — Slenderman — it would be over for you.

They’d call you a delusional killer.

You knew he was leading you to this moment — that Slenderman would plant something else soon…

And that would be the final nail in your coffin.

A psychiatric hospital.

Empty walls.

Pills.

Cameras.

He could reach you there without effort. You didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. They didn’t believe you. You had to find a lawyer.

And somehow, despite doing nothing wrong — you felt guilty.

It was all part of his design.

A methodical calculation.

His goal wasn’t just to break you —

It was to make the world turn against you. So that when everything was taken, he would be the only one left to “accept” you.

You cried at night.

When the rain rattled the windows. When your mother avoided your gaze. When people you knew crossed the street to avoid you.

You felt like an animal. A monster. And then… it got worse. Your mother screamed during the night.

You woke to the sound of her voice — unbearable, hoarse.

You ran to her room, your heart pounding in your chest. She was asleep with her eyes wide open.Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her hands clutched the blanket in spasms.

— Mom! Wake up! Mom!

Her eyes finally focused. Her breathing was ragged, broken.

— I... I saw him...— she whispered. — Tall... no face at all. H-he...

She choked on a sob. You had never seen your mother like that, not even in tears.

— ...he was ripping my heart out... and I couldn’t wake up... it must have been that sleep paralysis people talk about?

You held her tightly, trying to calm her down.

— It’s okay, Mom… you’re just tired. It was just sleep paralysis…I’ve had it too, — you lied. — It’s just the stress. Everything’s going to be fine…

No.

He showed you that he knew.

Who you valued most.

Where to strike.

And you would never allow that.

Not again.

You felt something solid inside you — a clarity, a need to tear his heart out for what he’d done to you. For daring to threaten your family.

That night, you left the house without a word. You didn’t leave a note. You didn’t warn anyone.

This wasn’t a heroic gesture — it was surrender.

You gave up.

The moment you stepped into the forest, the air thickened.

Your heart thudded wildly in your chest.

Your pulse was erratic, panicked.

Arrhythmia.

Your legs felt weak.

Each breath came with one question: Now what?

He was waiting.

You knew it even before you saw him.

And when you stepped into the same clearing where the ritual had once been performed, he emerged from the dark — soundless, like a shadow that had finally taken form.

Tall.

Disturbingly thin.

Faceless — yet you felt his stare like a blade to your skin.

He stood in front of you.

Unmoving.

And the world around you stilled. Froze. Your hand clutched at your jacket near your heart.

— What do you want…? — you asked, barely more than a whisper.

No answer.

But something shifted inside you.

Not a voice. Not a sound — just a sensation.

“I knew you would come. It was only a matter of time.”

And that…

was the most terrifying part.

Because maybe…

he was right.

Playlist:

Chapter II:

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

CONSTELLATIONS OF VITAL PHENOMENA.

PAIRING — bucky barnes x f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot; fluff; angst; greek mythology elements (i took so many liberties with this so pls don’t come at me with your notes ☝🏻🤓 okay?); first-person narration/told from Eros’s pov; kind of a valentine’s day special but also not really? idk.

SUMMARY — For the first time ever, Eros’s arrow strikes the wrong target. And now, the god of love is faced with the task of unravelling the newly formed bond between Bucky Barnes and a woman the Fates have decided is not his soulmate—and yet.

WORD COUNT — ~3.7k

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

I like to check up on you all every now and then. It’s how I learn, and there is still much to know about you mortals, even after all this time. 

And there’s just something extremely unsatisfying about leaving a story unread, isn’t there? Especially if it is a tale I helped set in motion. 

Cinque Terre is a lovely chaos of patterns and vivid colours, and under the azure sky with a cup of gelato in hand, I adjust my hat and pretend to be preoccupied with the sight of the sparkling sea, smiling to myself as I observe a pair of lovers standing nearby. 

The cheeky little things are supposed to be wrapping up a work trip, but before they leave this little slice of Mediterranean paradise, they pretend for a moment that they’re on a romantic getaway. 

They hold each other by the waist as they breathe in air rich with the mingling aromas of freshly baked focaccia and the briny sea, and anyone who looks upon them will know they are in love. 

I even check on the stories I know are doomed. Fret not, my human friend. Stories end, my dear, but love never does. It lingers, do you know that? 

Maybe you decide to keep it, perhaps you feel stronger that way, looking back on a tale cut short and choosing to carry it with you. 

Maybe you end up letting it go, maybe—though beautiful while it lasted—it’s holding you back from an even brighter future. It remains regardless. It settles back into the earth, floats into the sky, clings to the stars—sparkles almost like fairy dust in the sunlight. 

Shall I tell you about the first time I ever had to bring about an ending? 

It all began with that oblivious couple standing right over there, still holding each other as the beating heart of the Italian Riviera works its subtle magic on them. 

You and Bucky turn to each other and share a smile, sharing a tender kiss under the creamy orange light of the rapidly setting sun. 

It all began with a mistake, you see, because I never miss. 

It was a harsh lesson to learn, that even us gods aren’t infallible, but sometimes, mistakes are good. 

That’s what I like very much about you mortals. 

“I love you, Bucky.” 

The words were released upon a single shaky breath, as though you’d been holding them back for aeons. You stared up at him with watery eyes, looking both relieved of some immense burden and terrified at the same time. 

“I always have,” you admitted almost sheepishly, hopefully. 

And Bucky swore it was like he’d been shot through the heart, but instead of doubling over in pain, he couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at his lips. His shoulders lifted as he breathed in, like he was inhaling fresh air for the very first time. 

His cheeks were tinged pink in the chilly late winter air, but he didn’t even so much as shiver. In fact, he was warm right down to the tips of his fingers. 

Bucky had absolutely no choice but to say it back, because of course he did, and you smiled at him brighter than the sun. He decided right then and there that he would gladly blind himself in your light. 

His heart stuttered when you rushed forward to wrap your arms around him, and it didn’t take very long at all for his lips to find their way to yours. 

But unfortunately, heartache always began with apparent joy. 

Because something shifted in the atmosphere. A hush seemed to fall over New York as the first nearly frozen raindrop splashed onto the sidewalk. Another followed, then another, and then another, until the silence was soon filled with the staccato beat of impending rain. 

You and Bucky didn’t seem to care, however, still holding each other in a tight embrace, exchanging warm breaths and whispering love against touching lips. 

I, on the other hand, cast a wary glance up at the darkening heavens. A sense of urgency unfurled within me as the once-clear sky morphed into a brooding tapestry of greys and blacks, transforming the city streets into a mosaic of shimmering puddles. 

At first glance, it might have seemed like an ordinary downpour to anyone but the most discerning eye, but to me? 

I knew immediately that Zeus was angry. The sky momentarily brightened with a flash of lightning, a clap of thunder boomed loud enough to make even Barnes flinch. 

It could only mean one thing: I had just made a mistake of cosmic proportions. 

The nock of my arrow was still inexplicably sticking out of your chest (well, don’t worry, no one else could see it… wouldn’t that be morbid?), even though that arrow was most certainly not meant for you. 

But as Bucky cradled your face in his hands, touching his nose to yours, making you laugh despite being drenched in freezing rain, I found a stillness. A momentary peace. 

Because how could a love like that, so palpable to anyone with a heart and a soul, possibly be a mistake? 

“No, Eros,” Clotho murmured with finality when I arrived back in Olympus in a frenzy, not even looking up from her distaff and spindle. Her two sisters, Lachesis and Atropos, cackled amongst each other, completely unashamed that the subject of their mockery—spoiler alert, it was me—was still well within earshot. 

“You didn’t even take a moment to consider it!” I complained, but of course they wouldn’t. 

They already believed me to be an immature and naive god in comparison, and this proposal of mine—and the fact that my arrow was currently burrowed into the heart of the wrong person—only proved them right in their eyes. 

“Measures such as the one you’re suggesting—” Atropos, the eldest of the Fates, cut in. Her youngest sister was now once again far too busy with her life’s work, weaving the countless threads of life and death to pay any more attention to my concerns. “—must only be taken in the most dire of circumstances.” 

“The balance of the cosmos has already been upset, what circumstances could possibly be more dire?” I demanded.  

One side of the Earth was under a torrential rainstorm, and the other side was being ravaged by wildfires. Conflicts were breaking out in areas of longtime peace, and humanity was beginning to lose faith in itself. 

I wanted to scoff, to roll my eyes so hard they might as well have fallen right out of my skull, even as Atropos waved her abhorred shears so manically in my face. 

In reality, I knew their refusal was because the Fates were considered above us all as enforcers of the universe’s will. Who would dare be arrogant enough to question their judgment? Not even Zeus himself. 

“You already know all this, Eros,” Lachesis, the middle sister, whacked me on the head with one end of her measuring rod, making me flinch before she batted away Atropos’s menacing hand. “You are embarking on a fool’s errand. Once the Moirai have decided, you cannot change our minds.” 

“I see the business of love has made you soft, boy,” Atropos sneered, putting down her scissors and looping a thread of life around one of her bony witch-like fingers. She toyed and tugged at it carelessly, despite the small noise of dissent from a concentrating Clotho, as though it wasn’t the literal lifeline of an actual living, breathing creature. 

“And I see the business of death has inevitably made you more ghoul than goddess,” I snapped back, beyond indignant, momentarily forgetting that my mission was to convince the sisters, not anger them. Atropos did snarl at me in response, but she ultimately did not refute my statement. 

Because Hades, despite being the ruler of the dead, remained one of a kind. Despite the fact that he rarely ever saw the sun, surrounded by all that death and anguish, he remained ethereal and compassionate.

You humans sometimes think the devil of him, but you have been very misinformed. Most of his wrath is exclusively reserved for those who try to cheat death, and that’s where the difference lies. 

James Barnes never actively tries to cheat death, he just somehow does.

Many times, the underworld scrambled to prepare for his arrival. Finally! they'd exclaim, the Furies rubbing their hands together in barely contained glee, satisfied that even the infamous Winter Soldier couldn’t outrun his destiny for that much longer. 

And so many times, Hades seemed almost unbothered, maybe even content despite the chorus of disappointment that sounded around him, as the human known as Barnes once again prevailed. 

Once again, he lived—despite all the odds.  

I firmly believe that’s why the Fates loathed him so, and refused to even entertain my request; this mere mortal was always managing to twist up their carefully laid plans, taking their interpretation of nature’s law and throwing it back into their faces, proving them wrong time and time again. 

It seemed, however, that was precisely the way it was supposed to be. The sisters would watch as the stars realigned themselves, the state of the cosmos resetting, and they would just sigh and… start over. 

I’d never seen anything quite like it in all my years, and even though the Fates still treat me like a child, by your standards I have been around too many to count. 

But that’s why it was all the more frustrating to me that they wouldn’t simply… do it all again. They had already been wrong about his destiny so many times, what was one more? 

“You were given three fine choices, Eros,” Clotho clicked her tongue in displeasure at my reluctance, her brows furrowing when her threads began to knot together. She put down her spindle, trying to unravel them but to no avail. She could not weave any further. “Fix your foolish mistake. And make haste before your trepidation upsets the cosmos, and Zeus, any further.” 

Fine choices. As if that was at all adequate when it came to matters of the heart. Still, I turned away to leave them, to follow their orders as woven, silently fuming and resentful. 

If they were willing and able to rewrite one’s life and death with but a flick of their wrists because it was “meant to be”, then why not love? 

It loomed just as large, if you asked me, if not larger than all else. And just as life and death were inevitabilities for all creatures, divine or mortal, so am I. 

So is love. 

Despite his almost celebrity status back on Mount Olympus, up close and personal James Barnes seemed… quite ordinary. Just like every other mortal, he had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. Nothing extraordinary there. 

I suppose the crop of short brown hair and the days old stubble growing along a sharp jaw did something for him, and those insanely blue eyes certainly weren’t terrible to look at— 

“So… she doesn’t actually love me, is what you’re saying?” Barnes glanced up at me, brows drawn together in displeasure and confusion, still digesting what I’d just told him. 

The woman he loved—a tenacious and adorably stubborn colleague turned confidante turned into something so much more—was accidentally made to fall in love. 

Unfortunately for him, while his love for you was true, you were never prophesied to love him back. 

“Well…” I faltered, suddenly realizing how harsh it all sounded, especially with you sitting right next to him in the dim light of his Brooklyn apartment. 

Listen, despite how I was treated back in Olympus, I’d been doing this a very long time. I’d learned, for the most part, that despite the resilience of you mortals, the lot of you still prefer to be spoken to with the utmost delicacy and consideration. 

It was why I decided to tell you both before pulling the arrow out of your chest and taking back the love you’d so passionately professed to him just days earlier. 

I thought it would have been kinder this way. 

But as I considered the look of undisguised anguish on both your faces, I came to the inevitable conclusion that I still had much to learn. 

“That is not true,” you protested, grasping at Bucky’s hand and tugging at his arm so he’d look at you. Your eyes were full of pleading, and he didn’t pull away although his fingers remained slack next to yours. “I loved you way before he came around! I just never had the courage to say anything.” 

Despite the very devastating nature of the situation, I couldn’t help asking. “Are you two not at all surprised by my existence?” 

“I’m a hundred and seven years old,” Bucky grumbled, as if that figure was somehow impressive. “I’ve seen more than my fair share of stranger things.”

“And you’re not the first god we’ve ever met,” you offered carefully. 

Preposterous, I wanted to scoff. As if Thor could ever compare. Instead, I swallowed my biting retort and returned to the subject at hand, “You may be right. My arrows, as powerful as they are, cannot create something that isn’t already there.” 

Love cannot be manifested; it cannot be borne out of absolutely nothing. It is borne out of two hearts beating as one, something of a higher power that I cannot adequately explain even as the god of love. 

“Then—” you began hopefully, but I put up a reluctant hand to silence you. 

“It does not change the fact that you… well, I’m sorry, but you are not James’s soulmate.” It was written in your destinies to remain apart, and there was nothing I could do to change it. 

To this day, that felt very wrong to say. I wholeheartedly believed my arrow was precisely where it was supposed to be, but the Fates didn’t respect me let alone trust me. How could I, a brash and comparatively inexperienced young god, possibly know better than nature itself? 

No one was going to rewrite fate just on my word alone. 

And Clotho was right; she had offered three fine choices. I had an absolute spread of not one, not two, but three potential soulmates for Bucky to choose from. 

The first, I must admit, they got off to a rocky start. But between you and me, the most fun love stories do. The barbs exchanged between Samuel Wilson and James Barnes were always sharp, but the underlying tones of affection were always there. Sam is everything Bucky deserves in a future, a symbol of hope in more ways than one. 

The second could be an achingly beautiful story. Love finds its way back to two people who thought it had abandoned them; sorrow gives way to light, and that light illuminates something that’s lain dormant for years. The colour red, something Natasha Romanoff had always associated with misery and guilt, can then mean something new. 

And for the third and most obvious, love was already so intricately woven into their destinies, it was impossible to separate them. Remember when I said love lingers? Even now, after so many years apart, and even during those years apart, Steve and James love fiercely. It was simply not in their nature to do otherwise, and the strike of my arrow would ultimately not change very much. 

I could pick any one of them and it would not matter. All of them made perfect sense. In every single case, I knew he would end up happy. 

And yet. How terrible was it that said happiness was destined to come at a cost? 

“What will happen if you remove it?” Bucky asked, finally closing his fingers around yours. You moved to lean your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes to hide the shimmer of tears. 

“Removing it could mean any number of things,” I told him honestly, and it wasn’t exactly anything that had ever happened before. I had no past experience to draw from. “But I do know what it wouldn’t mean. It wouldn’t mean she never loved you at all.” 

It didn’t seem to reassure either of you, wasn’t the balm against the ache I hoped it would be.

I did not want to do it, especially not when I saw you steel yourself against the pain, but the balance of the universe was at stake. You might not have called yourself an Avenger, but you were every bit one of Earth’s mightiest heroes as you prepared to shatter your own dreams to save a world that would never know of your sacrifice. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, seemingly unaware that your tears had made it past your lashes and began trailing down your cheeks. You turned and grasped the sides of his face, looking him right in the eye. “Even if I’m not your soulmate, even if we don’t end up together, I will be so happy for you.” 

Because Barnes would continue to love and receive it in return. In that case, what was there to really lament, other than your own heartache?

“I… sweetheart, please.” His forehead fell against yours. “I don’t want anyone else.” 

“It’s okay, Buck, because I love you,” you tried to smile, to be strong, but it twisted and mangled into something less sweet and more crushing. “I don’t care what happens after this, I will always love you. Okay?” 

“Please…” He pleaded again, voice so small yet thick with emotion I had to look away. “I love you too. So damn much. I can’t—” 

“Okay?” You stressed once more, thumbs gently caressing the apples of his cheeks. “Tell me you understand.” 

He shook his head. “I just found you. I can’t lose you now.” 

“You will never lose me.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Barnes didn’t seem to care he had an audience as he wept into your shoulder. 

I did what I had to do, despite how much I hated it. I reached forward and grasped the nock of that blasted arrow, and pulled it free. It disintegrated in my hands, dissipating like the light of an extinguishing star. 

The two of you held each other tight, and I could not bear to watch any further as I left you to finish your goodbyes. I returned to Olympus utterly dejected, my own grief as plain as day. 

After days of moping, Aphrodite halfheartedly tried to reassure me that things would work out; all I had to do was try again with a new arrow meant for the right person this time. 

“Hurry up already,” she said when she’d finally had enough, shaking her head with a dismissive wave of her hand. “The cosmos needs rebalancing, like, yesterday.” 

But she did not understand. I grieved for all true love lost, no matter how short-lived or star-crossed. 

And when I’d finally finished licking my wounds, I was about to embark for Earth once more, prepared to set Clotho’s prophecy and nature’s will in motion, my quiver secured over my shoulder. 

Until I was summoned. The Fates were calling for me, and it was the youngest of the Moirai who greeted me when I arrived. Her expression was grim and her shoulders squared in what I believed was preparation for another round of criticism. 

Lachesis and Atropos were lounging in their own chaises, refusing to make eye contact and mumbling angrily under their breaths. Clotho beckoned me closer to her loom, her strings now neat and free from their tangles, and I peered down at the thread of fate I had supposedly severed just days earlier. 

“I don’t understand,” I told her, staring incredulously at what I recognized to be your thread of life. It was now tightly woven together with Barnes’s. 

I put down my quiver, and almost immediately, the storm clouds over the planet cleared, the rumbling at the centre of the earth stopped, and the tension in the heavens finally began to abate. 

Clotho sighed, suspicions confirmed, the words coming out reluctantly through a tightly clenched jaw. “You were right.” 

It took a moment to sink in. 

The event that upset the universe wasn’t that my arrow had struck you by supposed mistake, or that you had declared a love for James Barnes that was never supposed to be returned. 

It was that we were about to chose the wrong soulmate after all, despite how perfect they’d all appeared on paper—er, thread. 

I laughed, I rejoiced, I celebrated. Even Atropos ended up cracking a smile in the end. 

“Well, what do you know?” She said, joining me as we watched Clotho weave the rest of your story.

Despite the lack of an arrow, love—as always—remained. 

Earth is stained in pretty hues of pink and red today. Normally, I find the whole display a little much. 

Love is meant to be lived every single day—boldly, shamelessly, proudly—not left to be openly expressed just once a year. 

But rest assured, some of you do it right. 

“Mi scusi, quanto costa?” I hear a voice, turning my head to see you and Bucky staring right at me. I break into a wide smile, disguised as a stranger and putting on my best accent—neither of you recognize me. 

“Per la bellissima coppia? Ottanta euro,” I tell him, even though it’s well past the evening rush. Bucky grins as he hands over the notes, taking your hand and tugging you along until you’re both stepping safely into the gondola. 

“Bucky,” you scold gently, voice lowered to a whisper, but you’re smiling just as wide as he is. “We’re going to miss the extraction point—!” 

But then you’re falling into his arms as he pulls you closer by the waist, laughing when he leans down for a kiss, lips missing your cheek and landing on your nose instead. 

“Just for a little longer, sweetheart,” he implores, blue eyes earnest and impossible to resist. “Just you and me.” 

You relent, utterly helpless, and whisper, “Say something else in Italian.” 

“Ah, si?” He laughs, a sound as rare as the man himself. “Sai che ti amo?” 

You hum appreciatively, leaning against his shoulder, “I don’t think I’ll need a translator for that one.” 

I turn away as I row down the canal to give you some semblance of privacy, singing a love song towards the moon you no doubt aren’t even listening to. You’re too busy continuing to defy all expectations as you fall deeper in love to even notice, and I tilt my head up towards the sky. 

How satisfying, no? I want to laugh. The stars wink back at me mischievously, as if telling me not to push my luck. 

You share a sweet kiss under the stars, and I take a moment to bask in the rightness of it all. I must admit, I can’t help but feel a little smug. 

Because sometimes, mistakes are good. Sometimes, mistakes are the best beginning. And sometimes, perfectly, they turn out not to be mistakes at all. 

After all, didn’t I already tell you? 

My dears, I never miss. 

fin.

NOTES — it has been A MINUTE since i wrote for bucky and i lowkey hate how this turned out but you know what, i need to stop obsessing! even if i was very unserious about the greek mythology stuff lmao. anyway, happy valentine’s day my lovelies! i hope you are feeling loved today, because i love you 🥰💕

also, the title of this fic was inspired from a book that has nothing to do with anything lol… but go read said book by anthony marra and prepare to cry your eyes out. you’re welcome.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[shystrawberries]

Space

(fair warning, mpreg)

Mornings were always difficult. She had to get up early to start her work day, and her husband was an even earlier riser. To get any morning cuddles out of him she had to wake up before him, and that was just a whole groggy ordeal. Of course, years of this tradition had ingrained into her a better pattern, forcing her to go to bed earlier at night instead of scrolling on social media. 

She rolled over. She had ten minutes to get dressed, brush her teeth, and head out the door. A decent amount of time if a certain someone would release her. 

Arms tightened around her waist, Sun’s head pressing into her spine. “Noo…” He whined. 

This situation was usually flipped. He was much better about rising in the morning than she was. Was he feeling alright? He was only particularly clingy like this when he was sick…

She rolled over and pressed her hand against his forehead. Content now that she wasn’t attempting to leave, a happy little purr rumbled quietly within his chest. Gently he ran his claws up and down her back. 

“Are you feeling alright?” She asked quietly. 

He hummed an affirmation, but she wasn’t convinced. She didn’t often skip work, but she wouldn’t be opposed to doing so this time…

“Just a little sleepy.” He hummed, shoving his flat nose under her chin. 

“Sleepy, huh?” She was definitely calling off work. She twisted to reach for her phone so she could call her manager. They’d be mad, sure, but hey, she never used a sick day. Well, technically. While she never got sick, her husband did. Not often, no, and he never complained either, but… well, sue her for wanting to take care of her love.

She was only barely able to grab her phone before she was pulled back to the center of the bed, a fishy tail wrapped tight around her legs. 

“Mm.” Sun settled her carefully over him. “You’re warm.”

She scrolled through her phone contacts instead of answering, pressing a kiss to Sun’s nose. When she finally found the right name, she pressed her phone to her ear, eyes glued to her love’s face. He didn’t look particularly pale. He watched her in turn through half-slitted eyes. 

“Hi, Bocka. I know it’s late notice, but can you take my shift today? Yes, the one I’m late for, that one.”

Sun’s eyes widened. 

“I’ll call the manager right after you—”

“Don’t call out, hon, I feel fine.” He sat up quickly, causing her to slide down his chest and into a heap on his lap. His legs crossed underneath her, his tail freeing itself and flicking behind him. 

Her brows furrowed. “I’m calling out—”

“No, no, seriously.” He swung the both of them out of bed and stood with her. Arms still wrapped around her, he walked her backwards to the pair of dressers. Her work clothes had been laid out the night before, as they only ever were because of Sun. “I feel fine!”

She crossed her arms when she was released and glared up at him. His eight feet versus her five and three inches seemed a little unfair. Especially when they argued. 

“You feel fine.” She stated dubiously.

“Yes, my light, I feel super duper, even!”

“And there’s nothing wrong.” 

“Nope! So stop your fussing and head into work, silly~”

She narrowed her eyes. “If I find you unconscious on the floor when I return…” She warned lowly. 

“Your concern for me makes my heart flutter, my darling light, but you really ought to hurry, hurry. You’ll be super late because of me, and that’s not good for—well, for anyone, really.”

She considered him. “Fine.”

There was definitely something wrong with her husband, but she had no idea just what. If he wasn’t sick (he had no temperature, she made him double check) then there was something else. But he wasn’t explaining anything. She would normally drop it by then; any normal person needed extra cuddles from time to time. Except the line of questioning made him look somewhat forlorn. As if she should already know. She had triple checked all of her calendars, even the ones from the last two years to see if she had forgotten to write down a recurring event, but there was no anniversary to note. She wasn’t good with dates, sure, but not that bad that she’d forget three years in a row to document it. 

The funk she left her husband in had apparently extended to her coworkers. Beth and Any (Twins who thought their names were hilarious) avoided her like their lives depended on it, three fingered slender hands clasped as they quickly walked away whenever she entered the room. Bocka, while accepting her apology for leaving her on the phone for so long, did not remain in the room to chatter her ear off like she normally did. Connor turned his back to her if she tried to say anything, and then her boss, all quivering overcoat and gas mask, shifted his long oversized sleeves as he explained (without truly explaining) that she would have the next two months and three weeks off, “no worries, no worries”. 

She was full of worries. 

“Oh, of course it's paid time off, dear, no worries, no worries.”

“That’s nice and all, but can you—”

“Oh, no worries, no worries,” he chuckled. “We have plenty of blankets for this very occasion. You’d be surprised how many species—Oh, Glenda! My coffee! Finally!” he waddled down the steps and met Glenda at the door. She was taller than the doorway, and her broad shoulders were wider too, so she patiently waited for the boss to meet her. She held the top of the cup with the tips of her thick fingers and didn’t bother to crouch to meet the short man. His sleeves extended and wrapped around the coffee. 

The woman who looked to be made of granite left them without a word. 

“Ah~” The boss sighed happily. “The coffee is so good, so good.” 

Lacy massaged her brow. It was amazing that her boss got his job at all; he had a one track mind. Knowing that he’d be unable to answer her questions until after he had finished his coffee, which took exactly thirteen minutes each time (they’d timed him a couple of times), she made her way to her shared room. 

She almost couldn’t recognize their room. She surveyed the room, from top to bottom, a little shocked at how many blankets the man had fit in there. It looked like an elaborate fort/nest of some kind. Blankets made walls and ceilings for their bed, and blankets spilled over onto the floor. A tiny fridge had been set up at the corner of the nest where it didn’t touch any of the cozy blankets. 

The room was empty of a particular yellow-skinned alien however, so she entered the connecting room. Because of their relationship, and partly because of her status on the ship, their quarter was one of the nicer ones. A bedroom, kitchen and bathroom with room enough for a section of their kitchen to dedicate to a cozy little dining table. It often ended up decorated in holiday-themed decor more than used for eating, with Sun as the culprit. She hadn’t had a special place in her heart for holidays until Sun had come along. 

The kitchen was where she found him. His back was to her as he poured a glaze over one of his favorite types of meat. She glanced about the room. The table, rather than covered in baubles, was coated in plates and bowls, teeming with food. The counter had yet to be tidied from food prep. 

“Are we having a party?” She asked as she approached. He seemed calmer now, she thought as her gaze skittered up his form. 

His head turned so quickly that the transparent, spiny fins crowning his head slapped him. His thin, ridged, long tail slapped the ground once before curling, his colorless eyes wide and trained on her. It was her only warning. He darted for her, causing her to squeal and attempt to dodge his outstretched arms. She narrowly evaded him once, but his reaction time was faster than she anticipated. Bouncing off the wall, he barreled into her, scooping her up into his arms with a gleeful sound. 

“Lacy, my Light! You’re back early~” he cooed as he nuzzled her cheek and neck. He’d been scenting her more frequently lately. 

She caught his face to give herself a reprieve. “Sun, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He stopped straining against her palms

“What did I forget?” She glanced at the smudge of food on his cheek. “And why are you trying to put yourself into a food coma?” She swiped her sleeve across his cheek, catching the oddly colored stain. “I thought you hated honey mustard.”

“I’m not—well, obviously I’m eating more because—” He stopped. “Oh my darling peanut brittle cupcake. You’re a human.”

“...I’m pretty sure we established that five years ago, but yes, that is true. Is that… part of the reason you’ve been off today? And, well, now the past week or so now that I’m thinking about it.” She eyed the painting on the wall as she thought. 

“Oh dearie me. I thought… this whole time… I didn’t remember your sense of smell was different than mine.”

“In what way? Clearly it’s impactful.” She gestured at the room. “If this is the kind of day that you had.”

“Well, um. Well. You know how we talked about children?”

She froze. “Yes… I do. We talked about how it was a toss-up on which partner got pregnant, and then you didn’t like it when I compared you to a seahorse.” It was a fair comparison, in her defense. He even looked like he could be distantly, fifty times removed, related to a seahorse, in an alien way. 

“And… you said you wouldn’t mind children.” It seemed, then, important for him to prattle off the reasons why, just as she had explained to him. “We’re financially well off, and we’ve got plenty saved up for any problems, and we’ve attended classes and read books, and I had a lot of practice with kids because of my many siblings, but it’s okay if we don’t want that many kids, and we could still keep our jobs here because the boss wouldn’t care and—”

She caught his waving arms. Unsure what to say, she said the least helpful thing that could pop up in her mind. “Don’t panic.” Her brain blanked. “I have a pinterest board of baby clothes.”

He stared at her. She stared at him. He bit his lip and his shoulders shook. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” She covered her mouth as giggles arose in her throat. 

“I-I’m not laughing at you.” 

“I heard a laugh, don’t lie—!”

They quickly became a chortling, giggly mess. Sun’s spray bottle laughter and her half-silent/half-squeaks overlapped as they clung to each other and the stress melted away. 

Well. Not wholly. 

“So…” She dropped a hand to his waist, just above his hip. Would it be weird to prod his flat belly? Probably, yeah. “You’re preggo?”

He pressed his smile into her shoulder. “There was a better way to ask that, but yes.”

“Oh, critiquing my questions, are we?”

“Mhm, C-.”

“Rude. I’m telling our kid that you’re a rather judgy fellow!” She screeched as she was lifted suddenly into the air and brought swiftly into a hug. Her nose brushed against Sun’s. 

“‘Our kid’.” He repeated. He beamed at her. 

“We’re naming them Carl.”

His smile disappeared and was replaced with an unimpressed scowl. “No. We are not naming them Carl.”

She grinned impishly. “What did Carl do to you? They haven’t even been born yet.”

“You know exactly why we are not naming our child Carl.” he shuddered. “Ugh. Carl.”

“I can’t think of any good reason why we shouldn’t.” 

“You lie.”

“I am astonished at you. First you give me a C-, and now you accuse the mother of your own child that she is a liar? The audacity.”

His rays drooped as his face adopted a love-sick look. “I love you.”

She smiled. “Love you too.” 

Just as he drew her close to kiss her, she interrupted the sweet moment. “I do not, however, love the amount of food we need to put away.”

“...There’s no more room in the fridge.”

“Well, guess we’re eating well tonight.” She mused. “Should we invite some of our coworkers over?”

He hissed and shook his head. “No, no, no thank you.”

“Ah.” Her eyes narrowed. “You must be the reason they were avoiding me today. How is it they knew you were preggers and I did not?”

“Hormones change smell, as you probably know, and the majority of us have better noses than humans.”

“Oh. I thought that you just stunk and needed a shower.” He gasped. 

“What? My sense of smell isn’t that bad, I just don’t jump to conclusions about it!”

“Hmph. I don’t want to cuddle with you anymore.” he dropped her to the floor and padded over to the chunk of meat he’d been decorating in glaze. “Help me?”

She rolled up her sleeves and smirked. “I wasn’t named the Tetris master for nothing.”

…She severely underestimated just how much the man cooked, though. Once the majority of what had to be put into the fridge and freezer had been taken care of, she sat on the edge of the wiped off table with a mixing bowl full of jello. 

“Also.” She cleaned off the spoon. “How dare.”

“Hm?” Sun folded up the apron. She wasn’t sure why, as it was going into the wash. “How dare what?”

“I forgot to respond earlier. How dare to your not wanting cuddles. I mean, obviously that’s fine, respecting your space and whatnot.” She scooped a bit of red jello up. It tasted better when Sunny made it. Don’t ask her why, them’s just the rules. “Just forgot to respond.”

He chuckled as he gently placed the apron on the counter. Eventually it would be added to the basket in the bathroom, which when full, would be hauled off to the communal washer room. 

He crossed the room and tilted her head back with a finger hooked under her chin. “I appreciate the sentiment, lovely light, but I only jested. If you’re not against it, and have nothing particularly important to do, I’m rather tired from the day I had. I’m sure you are too. My wife is such a hard worker…” he smiled. “And the air conditioner’s on…”

“You let me finish my jello and I’ll happily snuggle my afternoon away.” 

He squealed before coughing and attempting to regain a smidgen of the coquettish air he previously had.

She snorted and drew him closer by the collar of his loose sweater (hers, actually).

“Just kiss me already.”

“But your jello—” 

He melted in her arms as she kissed him sweetly.

[meganwritesfanfics]

Fresh Bruises (Josh Lyman x Reader) Part 10

Y/N couldn’t believe that any of this was happening. She sat on the cool tile floor of the bathroom, her head leaning over the toilet as she vomited what little contents she had left in her stomach. She had been drinking the night before, of course, but not enough that she was hungover, and she prayed that this wasn’t the flu or something like that. But she also thought of another option that could be causing this sickness. 

“Y/N,” A voice called as they knocked on the bathroom door. 

“Come in,” Y/N groaned. 

Donna popped in, her hair and makeup already partially done. “I got the stuff,” She said as she set the plastic bag on the counter. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m ok,” Y/N said as she slowly got up and splashed some water on her face. 

“And you’re sure this isn’t just some wedding day jitters.” Donna asked as she gently rubbed her back. 

A smile spread across Y/N’s face. She couldn’t believe the day had finally come, after months of planning today was the day that she finally married Josh. And now there was a possibility of more excitement. 

“No, this is, this is different.” Y/N said as she pulled out a Pedialyte and a pregnancy test. 

“Y/N, hun, you gotta hurry up, you still need to get your hair and makeup done.” CJ called. 

“I’ll be right out.” Y/N called as she turned to Donna. 

“Are you going to be ok?” 

“Yeah, of course Donna,” Y/N replied as she started to take the test out of the box. 

“Y/N,” Donna said as she reached out and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Are you going to be ok if this come back negative, I don’t want this to ruin your day.” 

Y/N smiled sadly. “I am anticipating it is going to be negative, I mostly just want to double check to make sure I’m not getting Josh sick. I don’t want you to have to take on any more of his work that you already do.” 

“Ok, I’ll just be right outside.” Donna said as she closed the door behind her. 

“It’s going to be negative, it is going to be negative.” Y/N kept telling herself as she waited for the test. She needed to keep her expectations low or it would end up ruining her day. That was why, when the test came back looking positive, she had to keep staring at it. 

“Donna!” She called “CJ, Ainsley!” 

All of the girls burst in, dressed in their bridesmaids dresses. “What’s wrong?” CJ asked. 

“It’s positive, I mean look at this that is positive right.” Y/N exclaimed tears in her eyes. 

All of them looked at the test before screaming and hugging Y/N tightly.

“Oh my god! This is so beautiful.” Ainsley said. 

“This can’t be real.” Y/N said her hands shaking as she still had the dance. 

“Well, it is and while this is all very exciting, we have even more excitement that we are going to be late for if we do not get your hair and make up started.” Donna said as she started as she ushered Y/N out in the hotel room to get ready. 

“You know Claudia is a really great name for a baby.” CJ said causing everyone to laugh. 

    ****

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, taking in her appearance. Her dress had off the shoulder straps that hugged her arms as it went into a flower patterned bodice that went into a large princess skirt. Her hair was pinned up with a dark blue comb that Abby Bartlet had lent to her for her something borrowed and something blue. On her wrist she wore a bracelet that Josh’s mother had given to her one christmas, it had been in Josh’s family for generations and it was her something old. For her something new it was something that no one would see but herself and Josh. The new lingerie wore was something she had bought especially for this day. 

“Y/N you look so beautiful,” Donna replied tears in her eyes. 

“Donna you can’t already be crying, you are going to make me cry.” Y/N replied and CJ quickly handed Y/N a tissue to dab her eyes. 

“Josh and you have been through so much, I just can’t believe we are here, and I can’t believe you are pregnant.” 

Y/N felt her breath his in her throat as the tears started to well up in her eyes. All she could think about was telling Josh that she was pregnant, she could just imagine the look on his face. And in that moment she could picture their future together with their new family. 

“I love you all so much, that you all for being there for me and Josh. You are our family and I am so happy you are all here to share this moment with me.” 

All of them hugged again, when there was a knock on the door. 

“Alright Y/N, it’s time.” Her wedding planner said and Y/N took a deep breath her stomach filling with butterflies. 

“You got this,” CJ smiled as she handed Y/N her bouquet that was filled with white and dark blue flowers that matched the bridesmaid dresses. 

As they made their way through the hotel and past their reception area, Y/N really took in the awe of the location and decoration. When Josh had told her they had booked the Hay-Adams hotel for their wedding and reception, she couldn’t believe it. Every since they had first gotten engaged, Y/n had mentioned that her dream location to get married but she had knew how hard it was to get booked. And Ceilia had been amazing with helping her find a wedding planner and helping with some of the homemade decorations. It was the wedding of her dreams. Of course when she was younger she hadn’t imagined that there would be secret service agents at her wedding. 

“You look beautiful,” Bartlet said as she appeared near the doors. 

“Thank you so much.” She beamed as he held out his arm for her. When thinking about who she wanted to walk her down the aisle, the only person she could think of was the man who had become like a father to both her and Josh. She knew it took some major negotiating with the secret service and she couldn’t be more grateful that it worked out. 

“I am so happy for the both of you. You two truly are made for one another.” 

“Thank you sir, and thank you for everything you have done for Josh and I. We owe you so much.” 

“You don’t owe me a thing, I care about you both deeply, and I want to make sure you are well taken care of.” 

He pulled her in for a hug, just as she could hear the music start for her entrance. She had picked the song At Last by Etta James for her entrance, it felt appropriate. 

“Are you ready for this?” Bartlet said. 

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” She smiled. 

Bartlet nodded and the two secret service agents opened the door. 

Her nerves were going crazy when she saw all the people looking back at her, but the minute she locked eyes on Josh all her nervousness went away. 

Josh felt his heart skip when he saw Y/N. Instantly this eyes were flooded with tears. He couldn’t express how beautiful she looked and how grateful he was that they had made it to this moment. 

“Hi,” Josh whispered as Bartlet handed Y/N off to him. 

“Hi Lemon, you look very handsome.” She smiled as she took in his appearance. The man wore suits every day, but some how as he stood in front of her in his dark blue suit, she had never been more attracted to him.

“Let’s get married.” He smiled. 

“Let’s do it.” 

Josh had asked Leo to officiate the wedding ceremony and Leo did a beautiful job adding in funny stories about the couple. The two had also written their own vows, Josh’s were emotional and funny but full of heart. Y/N’s were powerful and tear jerking but with a lot of humor as well. And before the couple knew it, Leo said the magical words, 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” 

Josh didnt hesitate as he pulled Y/N in for a kiss as the entire room errupted in applause. 

“I love you so much Y/N.” He said kissing her again. 

“I love you Josh.” 

The wedding photos went by in a blur, all Y/N could think about was trying to find the right time to tell Josh. They were just constantly surrounded by people and all she wanted was a moment alone with him to tell him. So when they finally got called out to do their first chance she knew this was her best chance. 

The song that Josh and Y/N picked was Crazy Love by Van Morrison, and as they swayed to the lyrics Y/N could feel herself tearing up. 

“Mrs Lyman, what are you thinking about.” He asked. 

“I have a surprise for you.” She smiled. 

“I don’t need anything, I have everything I need right herel.” 

“Well, you might need to make room in your heart for someone else.” 

Josh looked at her confused. Suddenly she watched his face brighten as it clicked. 

“Are you serious?” He asked his voice cracking. 

Y/N nodded with a giant smile on her face. 

“Oh my god!” Josh gasped as he pulled Y/N into his arms tightly. “We are going to have a baby.” 

“We are going to have a baby.” She said and at that moment Y/N felt that she could never be more happy in her whole life.

[3ofpents]

The Jersey Devil & The Pine Barrens Pin Stripe // Fabric design for @shapeshiftersvt and The Cryptid Collection

Oh it's time for my favorite cryptid, the Jersey Devil.

We've reached the first fabric design that was a direct adaptation from its coordinating travel poster. Here, let me show you, I think it's pretty obvious.

This wasn't the first based-on-the-poster design that I did, but it was the very first poster that I did. I mean obviously. I grew up in New Jersey and, save for a 9 month stretch in Brooklyn after I was born, and a 2 year stint also in Brooklyn in my late 20's, I lived there for about 30 years. The Jersey Devil has always and will always hold a special place in my heart.

So why on earth is there a version of this pattern without it???????

Easy! Remember when I said that some of the fabric designs were created with Eli's runway looks in mind? Well here's the concept sketch for the Jersey Devil design:

The initial concept while we were brainstorming and finalizing the fabric designs was to create a skirt suit with the trees-only design (Pine Barrens), with a binder or sports bra in the Jersey Devil design peeking out from underneath. I can't speak entirely to Eli's thought process, but I believe part of this decision was made with the photobombing idea behind the posters in mind, where the cryptids are sort of semi-hidden, or at least not the focus of the image. And part of it was aesthetic, not wanting to have multiple moons all over the outfit that might even get cut off and such.

I want to say I had a decent time with this one, and I think I did in the end. But I have to admit that it ended up being a little frustrating because it took a lot longer than I expected it to. Or that I thought it should, considering I was just recreating a slightly altered version of an illustration that I'd already done. It took a while to get the trees right, especially because for some reason that I kept getting a single pixel wide line across my horizontal seams that, like. The only way I can explain it is that it was as if the canvas was a single pixel shorter on the bottom than the image, so every time I smoothed out the seams and moved the tile back, that single pixel line would come out of hiding and break up the whole image because it didn't get edited, so the colors were in the wrong places.

This was NOT the case, for the record. I expanded the canvas multiple times in my attempts to fix this thinking that was what was happening. And yet it kept happening. I don't remember if restarting my computer fixed the problem (I often have issues with things on my screen not appearing properly when I need to restart to free up some memory); if I confirmed that it was just a weird visual glitch in Clip and that it wasn't visible anywhere else; or if it just stopped happening because I stopped moving the tile multiple times to double or triple check it and it was happening at the point of moving it. But I got it fixed, obviously.

And I'm pleased with it! I think if I'd put this one further down the list and so had more experience under my belt, I would've done it a little differently. Really mainly the tree repeat. I think I would've done a larger tile to get more trees, for more trunk shape variation; and to have more room to get a more gentle curve back and forth.

But the essence of the thing is still there, and I still think it's a cool concept (one that Eli came up with, I forgot to mention!) with the trees being stripes. And of course I love my flying Jersey Devil. I need draw more Jersey Devil art.

As always, if you'd like to order your own binder or sports bra with either of these fabric designs, you can find them (and the poster print) here, on the Shapeshifters website. If you do, we'll finally be able to get a photo instead of the mockups I made up there.

If you want to purchase the fabric for your own sewing projects, you can do so through our Spoonflower shop. Important to note that the Pine Barrens stripe runs vertically along the length of the yard; and the Jersey Devil stripe runs horizontally, and the pattern repeat is a full yard, so there's only one moon on each yard.

[tarditzgrade]

chat i'm doing greenflower week

i'm a day or so late but that's fine. my plan is to compile all the writings into one ao3 fic when i'm done

Day 1: Childhood/Present/Future

i did present but interpreted it as 'gift-giving' bc i had no clue what else to do for the prompt.

around 628 words :)

“How’s this?”

Lloyd raised the paper up to Brad. He looked up from his homework to see what the green ninja was showing him.

“Um.” It was a drawing. A doodle of…someone. “It’s nice.” He offered.

Lloyd had taken up a habit of doodling when he was bored. Problem was that Lloyd, for all his talents, was not the best artist.

He was improving, sure, Brad could tell it was a person this time. But he genuinely couldn’t work out anymore than that. “Is it Gene?”

Wrong answer. Lloyd looked offended. “What? No, it’s-” He double checked the paper to make sure he had shown Brad the right drawing. “Yeah. It’s you.”

Oh. Brad had been guessing. He thought the lines around the eyes were a little thicker than usual and figured they were glasses, but apparently not. “Well, it’s still pretty nice.”

Lloyd didn’t agree. “Not if you couldn’t figure out who it was.”

“It’s nice if you’re going abstract.”

“Hm.” Lloyd put his paper down and didn’t say anymore.

Brad went back to his work. Definite integrals were going to be the death of him.

The rustle of paper next to him grabbed Brad’s attention. He sighed. There was another issue with Lloyd’s new habit.

Lloyd never went out to find any scratch paper to doodle on. Hence, he used the closest piece of paper he could find. Which meant…

“Lloyd. Can you not doodle on my homework?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to doodle on? Your table?”

“No, please don’t do that." He proposed a solution. "How about some scratch paper?”

“Do you have any?”

Brad clicked his tongue. He only had one in the immediate vicinity and it was already covered top to bottom with his math.

A thought came to mind, though. “You know what? I have something better.”

Brad got up from his seat. Where did he put it? Oh, the drawer.

He found this thing while window shopping and bought it on impulse. “Here.” He slid the object across the table to Lloyd.

Lloyd picked it up. A flat rectangle, wrapped in gift paper. “What is it?”

Brad feigned innocence and shrugged. “Open it.”

Lloyd was skeptical, but did as asked. He tossed the wrapping paper on the table and revealed…a book?

It was unmarked, with no title. The cover was covered in a jungle pattern, composed mostly of green leaves and vines, with a few flowers to give diversity to the color scheme.

It was a very well-done cover, but Lloyd wasn’t impressed with Brad’s sentiment. “No offense, Brad, I’d rather draw on your table than read.”

Brad laughed at the joke and Lloyd’s confusion. “No, idiot. Open the book.”

Lloyd obeyed and- Oh.

It was not a book. The pages were blank. It was a sketchbook.

He put the book up to his face to hide his blush. “I may be dumb.”

“No, you’re not.” Brad snickered and pulled the book down. Lloyd wouldn’t meet his eyes, however. “You can draw in that, though.”

Lloyd flipped through the blank pages of the book. “When did you get this?”

“Sometime back. I was gonna save it for some occasion, but now’s a good time.”

“Well, thanks. Can I keep it?”

“Absolutely. I’m not gonna use it.” 

Lloyd began to use the book for its intended purpose and Brad went back to his work. He turned the piece of homework paper that Lloyd had drawn towards himself and brought his eraser to the little drawing in the corner.

Brad really couldn’t parse who the intended person (if it even was a person) was supposed to be, but the drawing was still cute. Lloyd seemed passionate about it.

He couldn’t bring himself to erase the doodle. His teacher would be fine with a little scribble.

[mxnordberg]

hi!! i love your cross stitch pieces so so so much. would you ever consider releasing patterns?

I write all over my patterns so I don't really have any of the ones that I've used in the past, unfortunately! But luckily cross-stitch (the way I do it at least) is more an effort of hundreds of hours of work and not necessarily a lot of creativity so I can tell you how I make them!

The website pic2pat is a blessing -- that's what I use to generate the patterns. For the first handful I did, I just did a lot of random guesswork on the size and didn't do any kind of editing on the screenshot before I uploaded it. For the first Impurity hoop and the Isolation hoop, I just sort of did my best to square up the image in the center and didn't worry about filling it out to the edges at all. For the Decay and Extraction and Memories hoops, I did the same thing only I made the pattern a lot bigger than my hoop size and just kind of did a bunch of estimation to make the image fill out the hoop as a circle the way I wanted it to. It's less work on the front-end, but then when you go to actually start stitching you have to do a LOT of double-checking and counting squares on your cloth to figure out where the elements are going to wind up, which can be very rough lol.

Lately, I've decided that's annoying so I've actually taken the time to measure my hoops exactly, and then I'll make a square canvas in procreate, drop the screenshot in there and get it to fill the square the way I want it to (depending on the screenshot, you might have to do some drawing here -- the totheark videos are shot in a rectangular aspect ratio, so trying to put them in a square can lead to either cropping out some details or leaving gaps at the top and bottom. I've usually been erring on the side of including all the details I want and then going in to paint in an extension of the top/bottom of the frame so it'll fill out the whole circle. I usually try to aim for some level of photo-realism, but you do lose some image quality when you convert it to stitching, so you don't have to get Too hung up on it), and then draw a circle over top to use as a reference for where the hoop is. Then you can upload that image to the pic2pat site and have the pattern generated the exact size of the hoop so you wind up doing less counting/guesswork.

For the colors, I usually start at the bottom with the least amount and pay close attention to the level of detail that I'm looking for. Depending on the size of your hoop, the amount of thread you need can quickly become a little absurd so I do usually try to cap it at around 14 colors since you often need multiple skeins of thread per color -- lately I've been aiming for fewer to save money.

THEN once you download the pattern you can mark out the the horizontal/vertical center row (the patterns generate the number of rows on the side, so that's relatively easy), and then I'll do the same for the actual hoop (a little harder, since you have to actually measure stuff, although honestly I mostly eyeball it lol). Then you can get started!

The important thing with cross-stitching like this though is that you're Going to miscount things. I don't go stitch by stitch like a knitting pattern because I imagine keeping multiple active threads in the same row from tangling/getting stitched to the cloth would be a nightmare. instead, I usually pick a color and will work by only filling in those stitches all over the hoop. You're almost certainly going to miscount the number of squares here and there and wind up throwing off the entire pattern because you filled in a bunch of sections in the entirely wrong place. The fact that the pattern generates on multiple pages can kind of exacerbate this since you might miscount rows between pages (although you can print them out and cut the edges out to tape the page together so it aligns in an actual single square). Usually this isn't all that big of a deal honestly -- because you fill out every single square, a lot of the time this is equivalent of being off by a few Pixels, so it's not very noticeable. Sometimes I do pull it up, but mostly I just go back in and mark off the squares on the pattern that I filled in 'wrong' and then will rework the pattern Around those stitches to move things back into place sort of.

I wish I was better at taking WIP images so I could actually show you what I mean, but hopefully this was enough to sort of give you an idea of what I'm talking about lol. And a few jumping off points.

[golbrocklovely]

Am I the only one who wonders what happened between all of them for Katelyn to act like that?? Like her posts on TikTok or the insta pic incident

you're definitely not the only one, anon lol

i have a theory of what occurred but no full proof of what went down. this is just my MAJOR assumptions.

i've definitely stated this before too, but i'll just repeat myself since i feel like my opinion has changed slightly.

before anyone possibly reading this gets on my case, i don't agree with how katelyn has gone about doing things, but if i'm even slightly correct, i can't say i'm surprised at her pettiness lol

it seems to me that everything between the four of them was good up until like may/june-ish. april, they were good bc that's when they all went to coachella and had fun there. hell, even a bit before coachella sam was making jokes about them getting married on one her tiktoks. but by may… things are getting just a twinge iffy. bc in may, that is when snc are going to farrar to look at it for the first time/purchase it. who comes along with them? malia. but katelyn didn't come. now granted, she apparently was moving or doing something like that around that time, but it is interesting that malia went with them without katelyn, or at least was invited along. it is a bit odd, especially when while snc are there, malia is taking pics in merch and colby's posting it to his story (and the merch in question was the "ugh why can't my boyfriend hunt ghosts" one).

but then by june, that's when they have their meet and greet. and obviously katelyn is there to support and give out stuff to fans. so things seem okay again. and around this time, he removed a bunch of posts of him with kat and the core four that had been up still, so a lot of ppl thought he was gonna finally hard launch katelyn as his gf.

then the last time we see them all hanging out is on july 4th. they all go out on a double date, post a tiktok or two, seems fine. he even posted a video laying outside with her. but then, fast forward to july 17ish, that is when she posts on her tiktok story that she is going to see pythian priestess bc things have been really weird in her life recently and she just needs a reading. so… needless to say that by that point they either a, broke up or b, were about to. by july 23, snc are in iowa filming farrar.

then by august 14ish, sam is seen out with a girl - going to watch a sunset in venice beach. the literal same day that happens, katelyn and him unfollow each other. the next day is when she posts the pic of him and her kissing with the caption "felt cute might delete later", and all of that shit goes down.

i'll try to say this as delicately as i can bc of course i could be wrong (and honestly i hope i am) - i think sam checked out of the relationship long before they broke up in july. bc when he was trying to calm the waters and did that q&a, he claimed that he had been single "for a bit now" and in his comment said that he and katelyn "broke up a while ago" when AT MOST it had been a month since they broke up. so to me, that reads as he had already left the relationship long before they ended things. and on top of that, all of the filming of hell week was after they broke up. so that means broken up sam was in the farrar vids, and to me he doesn't exactly look like someone that's upset about a relationship he had been in for almost a year ending.

or maybe he's a good actor lol

and i feel like this also lends into a pattern with him: he breaks up with said person after being clocked out of the relationship for a while, and then immediately leaves so he doesn't have to deal with the fallout. he did something similar when him and kat broke up - they broke up in late march (which he lied about in his marathon video bc there is literal proof and him, kat, and everybody hanging out and being besties on like march 25th so unless they were just pretending on camera to be fine but off screen weren't… he either lied or forgot when they broke up) and then he immediately left to go do filming somewhere (i don't remember what they filmed, but i know him and colby left around that time). even kat left to go be with family for a while. and he's now done the same thing with katelyn - broke up and left to go film.

sam himself has said before that he is terrified to grow up, that he's not ready to or that it's his biggest fear. the thing is, and while i never said it back then, he was never gonna marry kat. it was extremely apparent to those that weren't invested in their relationship. bc i think to him, marriage is the end of his youth. marriage means he has to grow up, be a man, and stop fucking around and have his shit together. and i think that scares him. and look, there's nothing wrong with being scared to grow up. there's nothing wrong with being worried about the future. i'm not saying he can't be fearful. what i am saying is you can't string ppl along bc you can't get it together. i mean, he outright said in a livestream recently that he hasn't been single since 8th grade……… that every year since then he has had a gf. that man is TERRIFIED to be alone. and so he jumps into relationships, but never grows up.

not only that, but he's unhappy with himself, for some reason. and i think he thinks he can't change or grow while in a relationship so he stays stagnant, and then by the end he realizes he's unhappy and instead of maybe pressing pause on the relationship or trying to grow while in it, he pretends he's happy, becomes extremely unhappy, and then drop kicks the girl. bc now we have two instances of him coming out a relationship saying he's the best version of himself, that he feels so good and free, but cut to a couple months later, he's back to saying he was in the worst time of his life.

and look, none of this is to say that katelyn did absolutely nothing wrong. i'm sure she was weird in her own way. i mean hell, she was in gcs with fans after their breakup trying to defend herself. that's weird. no buts about it. and she did do some odd things during their relationship too, and since the break up has been petty on and off again. but so has sam. in a weird way, they were kinda perfect for each other lol

i don't think there was just one singular thing that transpired to cause the falling out of snc and malia with katelyn. but i think the break up definitely made it easier for them to all shun her. and i think that's why she's retaliated the way she has - with tiktoks and pics and shit like that. i don't blame the girl, but i also don't think she's chosen the right path to go down either.

it's all just... very messy.

[whennnow]

Late 1890s Corset Part 2 - Mockups

March 11, 2021

[Image ID: a photo of Alex's torso wearing a navy and red corset mockup, split down the middle to show the left half wearing the poorly fitting first mockup and the right half wearing a well-fitted third mockup.]

Pattern Selection

I had my heart set on a Symington pattern from the start (because heaven forbid we make things easy on ourselves), and I knew I was aiming for the late 1890s, so I was able to significantly narrow down my pattern search just like that.

Doing research into materials and costs (and my limited spending money) narrowed things down one step further - I needed a pattern I could make as a single-layer corset, aka no fashion fabric (aka no beautiful, expensive silk), aka no cording.

Because of these limitations and my own sense of style I was able to narrow down my choices to five patterns which I traced in Illustrator, printed, cut, and assembled into five small paper corset models. I used those to get a sense of the shape created by the original pattern and make my final pattern selection based on the shape and how difficult it might be to construct. I ended up going with the Symington pattern that has instructions (though we'll see later whether or not I end up following them).

From there I followed the Wicked Rain Studio tutorial on scaling a pattern to your measurements to create my pattern. I had measured the paper model incorrectly on the first go-around and created some... alarming shapes. Once I re-measured it, though, and re-did my math the process went really smoothly! (Note to self: consider switching to the metric system! Converting decimals to fractions of an inch is hard!) I did make a slight adjustment to the process, though - I added an underbust line, so I would know approximately where to end the bust curve. I didn't measure around the underbust, just the distance from there to the bust and waist lines.

After I drew out the pattern I double-checked my bust, waist, and hip measurements, cut the pattern out, and 'walked' my seams to make sure the seams and measurement lines matched. Thankfully, everything matched pretty well!

Mockups

Then I gathered my supplies - I had a mostly-suitable mockup fabric in my stash, heavy-duty zip ties to use as bones (admittedly not ideal, but I already had them and I'm on a budget), and stash ribbon for boning channels. Then I borrowed some 'hacks' I've seen other people use, including using grommet trim/tape instead of setting grommets for the lacing and using a heavy-duty zipper which will be reinforced with zip tie 'bones' instead of a busk. Because I don't know the height of the corset yet, I didn't want to buy bones or a busk only to have them be the wrong length!

At long last, it was time for mockups! I traced my pattern onto the fabric and cut the pieces out with a generous 2" seam allowance on the sides (you don't need seam allowance at the top and bottom edges), and then thread-marked the seam lines and the bust, waist, and hip lines. I made the seam allowances so wide so that I could make any adjustments on those pieces instead of cutting new pieces since I don't have much mockup fabric left.

My first mockup went together quickly (minus some thread tension issues), but had some glaring fit issues. It was too large overall and left me with no lacing gap. Even completely laced it was slightly too large in the waist, but was slightly too snug in the hips (I suspect this was because I had used my full hip measurement instead of my high hip measurement, which is where my hip bones stick out and sits about 1.25" higher than the hip measurement I had taken). The front of the corset was also too long - it came up higher on the bust than I liked and was long enough that the bones stabbed me in the legs when I sat down.

To account for these issues, I took 1" at the bottom of the center front (evening out at panel 3), 1.75" at the center front top (evening out at panel 4), 2" off the bust and hip lines all around and 3" off the waist (all spread evenly across each seam). I then remembered that I needed more room in the hips (aka hip spring) at certain seams, so I added a bit back to those seams. The pattern pieces were re-traced, re-thread marked, and re-sewn into mockup #2.

The second mockup seemed to fit a lot better, with the only glaring error being an uneven lacing gap - about 2" at the top, which I wanted, but almost 5" at the bottom, which is way too much. I wore the corset mockup around the house for a few hours that evening to understand how the corset would feel after being worn for a few hours, and I'm VERY glad I did that. The pattern encourages a slightly conical shape sloping from the underbust to the waist, and it seems that my lower two ribs are NOT amenable to that (I have a decidedly rectangular rib cage) and I started to experience discomfort in that area after about two hours that was bad enough by hour four that I had to remove the corset entirely. I expect to wear my corset for hours at a time for events and such, so this had to be fixed. (I was uncomfortable enough that I forgot to get photos of the second mockup, and put it back on briefly a few days later.)

On the bright side of things, I decided I had my pattern close enough to the final that I went ahead and ordered my busk, boning, and lacing cord! I put off making my third mockup until those arrived so that I could practice inserting a busk and also so that I could have one lacing cord instead of three mismatched stash ribbons.

[Image ID: a 3/4 view of ALex's torso wearing a navy and red corset mockup, with three mismatched ribbons tied around the waist.]

My adjustments for the third pattern included evening out the bust curve and adding width to the waist and hip of pieces 1-4. I also had to shorten the height of the back panels (piece 6) to account for the fact that I underestimated how long the spiral steel bones on either side of the lacing needed to be, though that adjustment didn't make it into the mockup as I didn't want to remove and reattach the grommet strips.

The third mockup gave me a much more consistent lacing gap (though still not completely parallel, it got narrower at the hips), but slightly less waist reduction. I wore it around the house again to see how my ribs felt, and it was really comfortable! I had it on for four hours in the morning and another five in the afternoon (with about an hour break in between for a nap). Lacing it up was infinitely easier with a proper lacing cord!

Finishing Up

Ultimately, I was content with my third mockup and deemed that my final pattern! I took apart my final mockup, ironed the pieces, and compared them to the pattern to ensure wearing hadn't warped them (it hadn't).

That means I'm ready to start on the final corset!

My next blog post will go over the construction of the final corset and material costs. Then there will be a fourth and final post looking at flossing and decoration and the final reveal. I can't wait to see how my first corset turns out!

[goldenepaulettesaviationpilot]

Confidence vs Complacency: The Invisible Boundary That Every Pilot Must Master

The Day I Thought I Had “Arrived”

I still remember the 58th hour of my flight training like it was yesterday.

The Cessna 172 lifted off like a leaf caught in a breeze, and my instructor just nodded, arms crossed. No corrections. No reminders. I was finally flying the aircraft—not managing it, commanding it.

I thought, "I’ve got this now."

And that was the moment I began to lose it.

Two circuits later, I forgot to check the carb heat. Missed a slight crosswind during final. Landed harder than usual.

I brushed it off. So did my instructor. No damage, no write-up.

But I had tasted something dangerous that day complacency disguised as confidence.

What’s the Difference, Really?

At around 50 hours, most cadets start to feel competent. Patterns look familiar. Radio calls flow smoothly. The cockpit becomes a comfort zone.

But that’s when the trapdoor opens.

Confidence is built on discipline, awareness, and humility. Complacency is fueled by routine, assumption, and over-familiarity.

Real Confidence is Quiet

True confidence doesn’t feel like ego:

it feels like clarity.

You brief every phase of flight.

You double-check fuel, even if you saw it 30 seconds ago.

You listen for updates not because something’s wrong, but because something might go wrong.

Understand the importance of debrief.

It’s professional paranoia—not fear. It’s vigilance, not overconfidence.

Complacency: The Quiet Assassin

Let me take you to a cold evening in February 2009: Colgan Air Flight 3407.

A Bombardier Dash 8-Q400, on final approach to Buffalo, crashed just five miles from the runway. The cause? The captain reacted incorrectly to a stall warning—pulling back the controls instead of pushing forward.

Despite having over 3,000 hours, his response was textbook complacency:

Mismanagement of airspeed

Ignoring SOPs

Poor CRM and fatigue

The NTSB report didn’t blame a lack of knowledge. It blamed a false sense of mastery.

Complacency in Flight School: How It Starts

Complacency doesn’t begin with skipping checklists. It begins with thinking you don’t need to check today.

Ask yourself:

Have I ever ignored a checklist item because “I already know it”?

Have I let my mind drift during downwind turns?

Have I thought, “It’s just a 152—nothing can go wrong”?

If yes, you’ve met complacency. You may not recognize it, but it recognizes you.

How to Build Confidence Without Slipping Into Complacency

Here are 5 practical ways to stay sharp throughout your training:

1. Conduct Self-Debriefs

After every flight, solo or dual, write down:

1 thing you did well

1 mistake you made

1 improvement goal

2. Simulate Failures Weekly

Ask yourself:

“What would I do if the radio fails on final?”

“What if I lost engine power on upwind?”

3. Take Every Flight Seriously

Whether it’s a circuit or a nav sortie—

treat it like an airline sector.

4. Invite Feedback

Even when flying well, ask instructors:

“What could I refine?”

5. Log With Purpose

Use your logbook not just for hours, but for insights.

“Hour 63: Flared too late. Review sight picture next time.”

Wisdom from the experience Line Captain

“The moment I stop feeling a little nervous before every flight—I take that as a warning. Because nerves mean I still respect the machine, the sky, and my own fallibility.” Capt. J. Raynor, 16,000+ hours, B737

Fly With Respect

Confidence makes you a leader. Complacency makes you a statistic.

Aviation doesn’t punish you for being cautious. It punishes you for being casual.

In your journey from student to captain, you’ll gain confidence—just make sure it’s built on a foundation of discipline, not assumptions.

Confidence says: “I’m ready—but I’ll still double-check.” Complacency says: “I’ve done this before—I don’t need to.”

Fly sharp. Stay humble. Train like your life depends on it—because one day, it will.

For more insights like this, check out my book: Mastering the Airline Interview – A field-tested guide for cadets, CPL holders, and airline pilots.

#PilotTraining #ConfidenceVsComplacency #AviationSafety #StudentPilotTips #FlyWithDiscipline #GoldenEpaulettesAviation #FlightSchoolLife #StaySharpFlySafe #A320Pilot #AviationMindset

[arjunash]

Traditional Meets Modern: Styling Kanchipuram Kanjivaram Silk Sarees

Hey there, silk saree lovers! Ever noticed how a kanchipuram kanjivaram silk saree can make you feel like royalty and totally yourself at the same time? It's crazy how these gorgeous pieces have evolved from being just traditional wear to becoming total style statements. Let's chat about how you can rock these beauties in ways that'll make both your grandmother proud and your Instagram followers double-tap!

The Classic Touch with a Twist

You know what's amazing about a silk kanjivaram saree? It's like that perfect recipe that never goes wrong, but still loves a little experimenting! The traditional designs with their stunning temple borders and rich zari work are getting modern makeovers that'll blow your mind. Think classic motifs in unexpected color combinations, or traditional borders paired with contemporary blouse designs. And guess what? These latest soft silk sarees are so versatile, you can wear them from morning meetings to evening parties!

Mix and Match Magic

Here's a fun trick - take that gorgeous pure silk saree with zari work your mom gifted you and style it with a crop top instead of a traditional blouse. Sounds bold? That's exactly what we're talking about! The beauty of kanchipuram kanjivaram silk saree styling today is all about breaking rules while respecting traditions. Think fusion - pair your saree with a belt, throw on some oxidised silver jewelry with traditional gold, or maybe add a jacket for those winter weddings.

Color Play

Have you checked out the latest soft silk sarees hitting the stores lately? The colors are absolutely stunning! While the classic reds and maroons will always have our hearts, these new pastel shades and jewel tones are total game-changers. Imagine a mint green silk kanjivaram saree with rose gold zari work - perfect for those day functions where you want to stand out without going over the top!

Modern Draping Styles

Let's talk about draping - because who said you have to stick to just one style? Your pure silk saree with zari work can look completely different with just a twist in how you drape it. Try the belt style for a corporate look, or go with a double pallu for those fancy evening dos. The key is to keep it comfortable while making it your own.

Accessorise Like a Pro

Here's where you can really let your creativity shine! Traditional pieces? Contemporary accessories? Why not both? Mix those temple jewelry pieces with sleek modern watches, or pair traditional jhumkas with minimalist neck pieces. It's all about finding that sweet spot between the old and the new.

Blouse Game Strong

Your blouse can make or break the whole look. Modern necklines, creative backs, and experimental sleeves - the options are endless! Just remember to keep the focus balanced. If your saree is heavy on work, maybe go with a simpler blouse design, and vice versa.

Styling Tips for Different Occasions

Morning Functions:

Keep it light and bright

Focus on comfort in draping

Choose subtle jewelry

Opt for natural makeup

Evening Events:

Go bold with the colors

Experiment with dramatic drapes

Layer your jewelry

Add some shimmer to your makeup

Office Wear:

Pick subtle patterns

Keep the draping neat and professional

Choose minimal accessories

Focus on comfort for long hours

Ready to start your style journey with these timeless pieces? Check out ARRS SILKS stunning collection where tradition meets contemporary flair. From classic designs to modern interpretations, their curated selection offers something for every style personality. Whether you're a traditional soul or a modern fashionista, their authentic pieces will help you create looks that are uniquely yours.

Conclusion

If anyone tells you you can't wear a Kanjivaram to that cocktail party - just show them how it's done! After all, style is all about making it your own and having fun with it. So rock that silk saree your way, and trust me, you'll be turning heads wherever you go!

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. How can I style a traditional Kanchipuram silk saree for a modern office look? 

Keep the drape clean and fuss-free with a nivi style. Choose subtle colors and minimal zari work. Pair with a well-fitted, high-neck blouse and simple jewelry. A sleek watch and small studs complete the professional look perfectly.

2. Can I experiment with different blouse designs for my Kanjivaram silk saree?

Absolutely! Try crop tops, boat necks, or even halter designs. Just balance the look - if your saree has heavy work, go with a simpler blouse. For simpler sarees, you can experiment with statement blouse designs and contemporary cuts.

3. What's the best way to mix traditional and modern accessories with Kanjivaram silk sarees?

Layer your accessories smartly. Pair traditional temple jewelry with modern watches or bracelets. Mix antique pieces with contemporary designs - like traditional jhumkas with a modern choker. Just keep one element dominant to avoid overdoing it

4. How do I maintain the shine and color of my Kanchipuram silk sarees? 

Store in cotton cloth, away from direct sunlight. Avoid spritzing perfume directly on the saree. Refold every few months to prevent permanent creases. Always dry clean only, and keep silica gel packets in your storage space to prevent moisture damage.

5. What's the trick to carrying heavy Kanchipuram silk sarees comfortably all day?

Start with a well-fitted petticoat with the right length. Pin your pleats securely and use a saree fall for better structure. Choose a comfortable blouse that's not too tight. For long events, consider slightly lighter variants of Kanchipuram silk.

[forensicated]

05x06 - Life And Death

Tony and Claire are on the beat. They find a very drunk man slumped on a bench. Claire asks if he is OK and suggests he head home before they have to arrest him. "Watch out, Claire!" Tony prompts - but it's too late and the drunk vomits all over her. Tony calls for the van to bring them all in.

Ken is sent to inform Mrs Jack Carter that her husband has died in an accident at work. June apologises because she knows no one likes doing them but if it were her in Mrs Carter's shoes, she'd be glad it was Ken delivering the news. Ken tells Mrs Carter tactfully and comforts her when she breaks down. He suggests he call someone to be with her but they have no children or close family and the neighbours they knew have moved away. Mrs Carter keeps calling her husband John and Ken keeps asking about 'Jack' but John's and Jack's were interchangeable way back when. Ken decides to make himself useful and put the kettle on. He is concerned that there's been a mixup over the names so asks Tom to confirm the details. Tom repeats the name - Jack Carter - and the address that Ken is at. Ken asks Tom to double-check the man's details with the factory.

Tony helps Alec process the unknown drunk. He has no ID on him and very little possessions in his pockets. All he will say is that 'I'd have died for her! Won't come back! Can't! Over! Dead!" He then collapses. Alec tries to wake him and orders an ambulance - it appears the man has taken an overdose as well as being drunk.

The factory confirms the dead man's identity as J Carter. Tom asks if that is Jack or John but the person on the end of the phone has no idea! He asks them to check - and quick!

Alec gets Tony to take the unconscious drunk's picture and fingerprints before the ambulance arrives. He calls upstairs for Frank but settles for Tosh as Frank isn't in. Alec is concerned the man has harmed his wife and if they can find her, they might be able to save her. There's one massive problem. They've still no idea who he is. Tosh checks the drunk over and finds he has unusually long nails on one hand and calluses on the other so suggests he plays the guitar. "You're really getting somewhere now." Alec drawls. "A 40-odd-year-old guitarist who likes to get pissed!"

Malcolm arrives at the factory that Mr Carter worked at. The security man is no help as Mr Carter was nightshift. The office manager comes in early to speak to Malcolm who is frustrated about how long he's had to wait already. She delays the situation further by logging into her computer to explain the situation. She shows him the database of the worker's details, gesturing to the screen to show that she has both a John Carter and a Jack Carter who work the same shift patterns so the details have gotten confused. Malcolm calls into Sun Hill and tells them that they have notified the wrong wife for Mr Jack Carter. Tom contacts Ken and tells him what has happened. Ken is at a loss for what to do so Tom suggests just keeping her company whilst Christine arrives - but not to let on. "Let the Inspector do it!"

Tosh gives June the drunk's fingerprints to get processed and asks her for a list of local dentists. One dentist agrees to meet them at A&E to make a cast of the man's teeth incase the fingerprints aren't on file. Tosh asks Jim to help him by contacting the restaurant on the top of a receipt from the drunk's pocket to see if they remember him and can identify him and then asks him to get the photo Tony took processed in a hurry. "Use that 60-minute processor thing and then meet me at A&E." "Yes Detective Constable." Jim mutters under his breath - with the Constable sounding rather like something else and emphasis on the 'Count'!

Mrs Carter keeps asking Ken what happened to her husband. He tries to explain that there was a fall from a height without telling her that it wasn't her husband. She asks how that could have happened and he's at a loss for how to explain it. "You're very young." [21] She smiles sympathetically before asking him if he has a girlfriend - he does, it's a medical student called Michelle and it's serious. She takes a look at her wedding photograph and starts to cry again. Luckily Christine arrives and introduces herself before she starts to tell her that there's been a terrible mistake.... just as John Carter arrives home!

John Carter comforts his hysterical wife and is furious at the police for upsetting her 'without checking'. Christine calmly tells him that they were reliant on the information given to them by the factory. She apologises and explains that it was done in good faith. Mrs Carter shouts at her husband to 'let it go', after all, she'd have found out a lot sooner if he hadn't gone out for breakfast with colleagues before coming home.

At the hospital, the doctor attending to the drunk tells Tosh and the dentist that the man will survive his overdose but they can't see him for at least 2-3 hours until he comes around. The dentist suggests the hospital use a panoramic x-ray machine to x-ray his mouth and the doctor says he'll arrange for that to happen - but only when the man wakes up. He does allow the dentist to take note of the fillings.

Ken tells Christine that he'd rather do a double shift, without overtime payment, than do another next of kin message. "Greatest comeback since Lazarus!" Ken sighs, noting that Mrs Carter won't forget that day! "Neither will the other Mrs Carter...." Christine says, reminding Ken that they - or rather he - has another wife to inform...

Tosh strikes it lucky with a clue to identify the drunk. The dentist spots that he has a rather excellent - and not NHS - implant. It would have been very expensive (the equivalent value now would be approx £1.5K) and is done to an obviously high standard. It'd be likely that the dentist would remember him if it'd been done locally. Jim also has good news - the restaurant remembers the man being in with a woman that he treated to a slap-up meal - and several bottles of champagne - but the manager notes they sat there barely exchanging a word all night. Tosh asks Jim to tour the local pubs that have live music - particularly jazz - to see if any of the landlords recognise him.

Ken attends the next Mrs Carter's house. A neighbour tells him Mr Carter should be home 'later that morning' and Mrs Carter is due back soon after staying with her mum for a few days because the elderly lady had been 'a bit poorly'. The neighbour spots her - with 2 children - getting out of a taxi and points her out to Ken who approaches her to break the sad news.

CID and Uniform take the picture of the drunk around the local area where he was found, the pubs and dentists but find nothing until Tosh locates a private dentist who recognises the man. At the same time, Jim finds a landlord who recognises him as Dave Preston who occasionally plays with 'The Sloshbusters'(🤣🤣) The landlord and dentist both provide the man's address. Jim is pissed off to hear that Tosh has already called it in and is driving over!

They arrive at the same time and spot Mrs Preston (Played by Elisabeth Sladen) saying goodbye to her children. She invites the officers inside to hear that her husband is in hospital and that he'd been ranting things that made them concerned for her safety. Mrs Preston is adamant her husband wouldn't hurt her. [A point of note here is that they now call the husband Derek rather than Dave so I'm assuming the actor who played the landlord got the first name wrong!] Tosh explains that he never mentioned his wife by name or title, it was all 'she' so he asks if she knows of anyone else. She says that it's likely Amanda Beech - a woman he'd been having an affair with. She doesn't know where she lives but calls her husband's office and gets the address for them.

The Carters arrive at the station and inform Reg that they - or rather Mr Carter - want to make a complaint about what happened that morning.

The fire brigade helps Tosh and Jim break into Amanda's flat when there's no answer. Amanda runs inside a little while later and demands to know what has happened and why there are two men in her flat. Tosh has the unenviable position of having to explain what happened. Amanda calls Derek a stupid man and heads to see him in the hospital - his wife having refused to do so.

Jim is amazed that Tosh knew that the woman in question wasn't Preston's wife and asks how he could possibly know that. Tosh explains that the restaurant he was at was so expensive that a man wouldn't spend £120 on a meal with his wife there. "When you're married, Jim, you'll understand!"

[steezywrites]

The Crown Of The Morally Grey

part 6

Y/n Snape x Draco Malfoy

find the previous parts here: part one part two part three part four part five

read on Ao3

This one is a bit shorter but! more information about y/n comes out!!!

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

Dumbledore had pulled Y/n into his office as soon as the feast was over; before she could check on Malfoy who had spent the entire sorting ceremony and feast staring at the table. Silently, the two walked through the halls up to The Headmasters Office. Dumbledore had said the password too quiet to hear and gestured for her to enter.

She’d been in the Headmasters Office once before. Her father had dragged her along to discuss putting her in more advanced classes. It had almost seemed like her father had been bragging about her in that moment, but as usual, he kept his expression unreadable. The Phoenix that had been bright with a calming aura at that time was now beginning to dull, coming close to the of this life cycle and ready to be reborn in ash.

Dumbledore offered her a chair, which she took, and a cup of tea was placed in front of her.

“Your father has informed me of The Unbreakable Vow you took.”

Y/n stayed silent.

“I praise your loyalty to young Mr. Malfoy. He isn’t who everyone thinks he is. Alas, I cannot allow you to be the one to kill me.” Dumbledore talked about his death, his murder calmly. It was inevitable, he knew it.

“You think I’m asking for your permission?” Y/n nearly laughed, anger threatening to make itself known.

“No, I don’t. I’m quite aware of your abilities Ms. Snape, but there is more at play here. You cannot be the one to end my life.”

“So, you’re going to manipulate the situation even more.” The words came out colder than Y/n realized. Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change. She stood up and put her hands on the desk.

“When Draco fails to kill you, I have to or his family, my father and I die. My father Vowed to help Draco, but I vowed to end your life if he fails. Draco and my father will not die, Professor. You will.”

Dumbledore looked away briefly, but his eyes continued to show the gears turning in his head.

“After you die, it will be another step towards the end. Your precious Potter might die as well, his friends, your students and coworkers. But Draco Malfoy will not die.”

Dumbledore looked at her again, his gaze softened, and he gave her a small smile.

“You really do remind me of your father.”

The statement threw Y/n off. The confusion mixed with her anger and left her silent, fist clenching around her wand.

“He once came to me, desperate for me to save someone he cared about, but it was too late, and instead he came to aid my side.”

“It isn’t too late for Draco.”

“No, it isn’t. But there is a pattern here.”

“This isn’t the same at all.”

“Isn’t it Miss Snape? You’re picking a side in hopes it helps the one you care about, even if it means your own demise.” Even though Y/n already knew what he was saying was true, it only angered her more. She wasn’t like her father. She could never be.

“I think it’s time you return to your dorm.” He stood, turning his back to her and gazing out a window, studying the clouds as if they were whispering to him.

“Oh, and smart of you to break Harry’s nose, its far more difficult to track physically injury than a spell.”

Y/n threw the door to the office open as she stormed through it, letting her feet guide her to wherever they wanted to go instead of focusing on her surroundings. The world was fuzzy, and her body felt too light, her surrounding seemed to shrink in size as she passed them too quickly to hide her anger.

I’m nothing like my father.

Her thoughts had become a muddled mess of the conversation and images of her father. He had never told her why he had become a double agent. She had figured he’d seen the wrong in his ways, or maybe did it only to give information to the good guys. If Dumbledore was right, and her father had done so to protect or honor someone he cared about, then what did she mean to him? He didn’t stop being a spy when she was born. He didn’t put much effort to stop her when she had vowed her life away to aid the Malfoys or seem to care that she would inevitably wear the dark mark. He hadn’t even talked to her most of the summer. For someone who made such a life-threatening decision for someone else who was in danger, he didn’t seem to care that his daughter was doing the same thing.

Another thought plagued her mind as she continued through the silent halls of Hogwarts. Dumbledore knew he was going to die, to be murdered even, and he didn’t seem to mind, even though he knew it would kick off Voldemort’s reign? Would that make killing him less terrible, or more? And why was he so sure that she couldn’t be the one to do it? What else didn’t she know about the already complex situation? What difference did it make to him who ended his life? There was another part to all of this that she didn’t know and that pissed her off more than the question of her and her father's relationship. That had always confused her, but she didn't like not knowing the details. She had made it a point in her life to know as much as she could.

When she found herself at the door to the Slytherin Common room. She nearly growled the password, “Serpentine” before shoving her way into the common room. Draco and Pansy were both sitting in the Common room, books of the coffee table in front of them. Draco didn’t look up as she entered.

“What did Dumbledore want?” Pansy asked, putting down whatever book she’d been reading.

“He wanted to talk about the classes. My father had been talking to him about my future career this summer." Y/n lied, somewhat hiding her anger as she went to sit beside Draco.

“What have you decided on?”

“Well, being due to my O.W.L.S last year, I was able to take whatever classes I wanted nearly. Dragonologist requires Care of Magical Creatures, Alchemy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Charms.”

“I still can’t believe you want to work with Dragons.”

Y/n relaxed. The topic of her dream career putting her at ease. Ever since she and Draco snuck down to Hagrid’s years ago and saw the baby dragon- which she begged Draco to not tell anyone about but of course he didn’t listen- she’d been obsessed. When the Triwizard Champions had to face them two years ago, it only strengthened her love of the creatures. They were fascinating and she couldn’t help but feel they were incredibly misunderstood. She had spent many nights sneaking down to Hagrid’s to help him with the baby dragon he had for a few weeks and didn’t talk to Draco for nearly four months when Hagrid had to get rid of the creature. Hagrid has assured her that he’d gone to a good place with other dragons and people whose jobs it was to study and care for them. She hadn’t known such a career existed until that point, and ever since, it was an obvious answer whenever someone asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. She had overheard Ronald Weasley saying one of his older brothers worked with Dragons; she had nearly asked him about it.

“They’re...”

“Misunderstood, we know.” Pansy laughed before beginning to talk about the classes she had to take this year.

For the first time somehow, Y/n was reminded that she probably wouldn’t get the chance to become a Dragonologist. Perhaps Voldemort would need some as using Dragon’s to his advantage seemed likely. But that wasn’t how dreamt of her career choice. Using dragons for evil was never something she wanted. She glanced at Draco, reminding herself it was for him, but she blinked far more times than a person sure of their decision would.

“I’m actually going to go to bed. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

She nearly tripped as she hurried to her dorm and shut the door behind her before sliding down it with her head in her hands.

[spindlebeforesunset]

Pranksters and the Pranked

(because it is April Fools at my place already)

Ace Trappola - prankster

• got their other two roommates to participate in pranking Deuce

• set the room clock 3 hours later than usual

• while the two roommates were "busy preparing for the school day" at 2 am, Ace flicks open the lights and starts turning them on and off and shouts "OI DEUCE WAKE UP, WE'RE LATE"

• he finally yeets a pillow at Deuce's face to wake him up

Deuce Spade - pranked

• a very confused Deuce wakes up, sees that the three of them are already dressed, looks at the clock, and panic dresses himself

• "wheresmyhomeworkwheresmyhomework-"

• only when he runs out in the rose garden does he finally see that, it's still nighttime, no he isn't late, and yes, his sleep was ruined

• trudges back to the dorm room where he finds them all cracking up

• he chucks a pillow at Ace before promptly flopping back on his bed

• with his shoes on (n a s t y)

---

Cater Diamond - prankster

• has a plastic cockroach toy in his pocket as he is to serve Riddle tea again on this fine day

• Riddle is having a nice time admiring the roses and often sticks his teacup out for Cater to fill

• while Riddle is inspecting a rose, Cater pours the tea and slips the plastic cockroach inside the teacup as well

• he doesn't change his expression when he hands back the teacup

Riddle Rosehearts - pranked

• Riddle sips the warm tea and feels something solid touching his lips

• he looks down

• immediately drops the teacup starts screaming there's a fucking cockroach in the teacup

• he realizes that Cater is doubled over laughing so he takes the opportunity to whoop Cater's head before storming off

---

Trey Clover - pranked

• he's bored and decides to make cookies

• he double checks the chocolate chips bag to ensure that they were not replaced with chocolate covered raisins like what Che'nya did last year

• no raisins, so he shrugs his shoulders that Che'nya had really ran out of ideas after many years

• takes out the ingredients necessary for the cookies and starts to mix the ingredients

• the process is going fine until he cracks an egg

• there's no liquid yolk pouring out

• he looks at the insides and finds that the egg has been fully hardboiled

• "... I should've known better," he sighs

• somewhere in the kitchen, an invisible RSA student laughs

---

Ruggie Bucchi - prankster

• gives Leona a package that appears to be from Cheka as there is a letter written in crayon and with childish handwriting

• stands near Leona's bed when he opens it

Leona Kingscholar - pranked

• he doesn't expect anything except maybe a small zebra toy

• but when he shakes the package and heard nothing he immediately thinks it is sus AF

• he glares at Ruggie, but even Ruggie doesn't appear to know anything

• he tears the wrapper, opens the box, and reads the words written ddirectly at the bottom: when will I get paid :(

• "Nice try Ruggie, I'll think about it."

• before he crashes back to his pillow, he sees Ruggie face droop along with his ears

Jack Howl - the only safe one

• by some miracle, the only student in school who did not fall into a prank

---

Floyd Leech - prankster

• beware Floyd and his pranks, because he will prank just about anybody

• he started with Azul, sneaking in Azul's bedroom (with the latter still asleep) and replacing Azul's glasses with glasses with lens he colored in black marker

• next, while Jade is in the bathroom, he replaces Jade's usual school tie with one that shifts colour and pattern every hour or so (now, it currently looks like the regular school tie)

• set up buckets full of water in the first year classrooms (Epel was dowsed in one, Sebek too, the last being Grim)

• handed Divus a blank assignment (written in invisible ink), but before Divus can even scold him, he passes the paper near a fire where the answers finally appear where Divus takes it with a huff

Azul Ashengrotto - pranked

• he wakes up and puts on his glasses by the bedside table

• how come he can't see

• it takes his sort of sleepy self two minutes to put two and two together

• instantly groans, knowing that Floyd definitely has his real glasses

Jade Leech - pranked

• he puts on his tie as he normally would and walks out the room

• when Ruggie asks him why his tie looked so funky in the middle of the day, he takes it off and finds that it has a silly banana pattern

• facepalms

• h a r d

• that he walked around with who-knows-a-probably-weirder-pattern around the school

---

Kalim Al-Asim - prankster & pranked

• harmlessly pranked by Jamil when he believed the milk was coconut juice (was kinda disappointed though)

• has slapped whoopee cushions everywhere underneath all the seats in Scarabia just for the heck of it to the chagrin of practically everyone

• asks Silver what's up with his blazer because what even is that

Jamil Viper - prankster

• he started with Kalim and the cocount juice

• knew full well that the seats were full of whoopee cushions and avoids sitting on all of them

• managed to trick Grim that he had tuna cans and when he gave Grim one, he excused himself that he had somewhere to go

• he watches hidden behind a pillar as Grim opens the tuna can and finds nothing but sand inside

• has to kick himself to stop his laughter from seeing Grim's disappointed face

---

Rook Hunt - prankster

• he was going to prank both Vil and Epel, but after hearing how the latter was dowsed in water for first period, decides to just prank Vil

• slaps cake icing inside an empty and expensive lotion bottle and wraps it with a ribbon

• he runs to Vil in the dormitory after classes and says it was left near his doorstep so tue sender must've mixed the rooms up

• unfortunately, Vil's door is closed on him

Vil Schoenheit - pranked

• after deciding not to scold Epel with the water fiasco, he takes the lotion bottle from Rook and takes it to his room, not seeing the "and I oop" face

• he squirts out a small amount of lotion on his palm and finds that it smells... weirdly fruity

• suspicious now, he rubs it with his palms and (despite all what he knew about beauty products) licks a tiny bit of it to confirm what it was

• blueberry icing

• "... well, it could have been worse."

• ends up tripping where he uses his hands to break the fall and realizes what a big mistake he's made with his sticky palms

• internally groans

Epel Felmier - pranked (can we get an F)

• as soon as he feels his clothes get wet and the bucket land on his head, he knew he was fucked for the whole day and goes through classes with a sheepish expression

---

Idia Shroud - pranked

• he decides to go outside and get something from the vending machine for once

• takes one step out and slides on a rug by his doorstep that was never there before

• "This is a warning, so maybe I'll just stay inside as always."

• gets back to his room where Ortho asks if he was just pranked as today was April Fools

• "...yep, I'm staying here the whole day."

• "Brother, no."

• unfortunately, they don't know who set up that rug

---

Lilia Vanrouge - prankster

• the only person who can and will prank Malleus Draconia

• he hides a small and cheap speaker at full blast (connected to his phone) inside Malleus' closet the day prior

• plays the end part of In the Hall of the Mountain King in a loop at exactly 3 am and everyone hears it in the halls

• tricks Sebek to believe that his crappily made cake would give whoever ate it additional strength, claiming the recipe was well-known back in his day

• swaps the black coffee powder with powdered chocolate milk just because

• swaps Silver's blazer with a seemingly normal one, but the back reads: If lost, return to Malleus

Malleus Draconia - pranked

• that music is straight up panic inducing and hurries to find it

• ends up finding it half an hour and yeets it out the window because he can't turn it off

• he's annoyed but goes back to sleep

• is huffy that he can't have coffee

• promptly confused why Silver is brought to him near lunch break until he sees what's at Silver's blazer at the back

• "Did he just..."

Sebek Zigvolt - pranked

• additional strength from the cake you say? THE BETTER TO SERVE WAKA-SAMA

• does not see the already facepalming Silver preparing the morning coffee

• takes a mouthful of it and starts chewing it before realizing something was not right

• "Sebek, I didn't think you would actually eat it. I made it bad on purpose."

• now that's a way to add insult to injury

• if he thought his morning was not already humiliating enough, he gets dowsed in water by Floyd's bucket

• him the whole day be like (;*△*;)

Silver

• poor Silver already knew full well of Lilia's antics, yet he still has no way out of it

• he puts on his blazer, not expecting anything wrong

• the powdered milk instead of coffee did annoy him though

• however, when Kalim shoves him to Malleus near lunch, he's shook

• until Kalim tells him to take off his blazer to show the both of them what was embroidered at the back

• "You mean I went out like this?"

• "It appears so," says Malleus

• "Oof," from Kalim

[skzsauce01]

The Student Council President Reads Shoujo Manga?!

Synopsis: You discover that the student council president, who claims to hate romance, reads shoujo manga. Slight influence from Kaguya-Sama: Love Is War.

Warning: none

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: fem student council vice president!reader x student council president!Hyunjin

After forgetting your textbook in the classroom, you expect to be the last person to arrive to the student council room, but it appears that you’re actually the second.

“Vice President, you left your manga here last night,” Secretary Kim greets. He glances at you momentarily before returning to his paperwork.

You shut the door behind you. “My manga? I don’t remember— Oh.”

Sitting on the mahogany desk is a tote bag that you recognize is the president’s. You loaned President Hwang the first five volumes of The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider two weeks ago. When you peer inside the bag, you find that he forgot to take off his manga protectors. You keep telling him that he doesn’t need to take such a precaution since you trust him, but he always does so anyway. Even your old battered copies are wrapped in plastic.

You take the topmost one and hold it to the light streaming through the window. Not even the outline of the title can be seen. You voiced your confusion at his choice of using opaque protectors before; how would he be able to differentiate between different volumes or different mangas? His answer made you laugh: it was how he got away with reading during class. The image of the student council president doing such an illicit thing seemed ridiculous, and he pushed his hair back in embarrassment as he recounted the time the teacher almost caught him. Then you stopped laughing and wondered what the symptoms of a heart attack were. Your rib cage felt like it was going to smash open.

Now as you peel off the protector, the same feeling returns. The corner of Dragon Rider is blue and purple, not dark red. Did he spill something? No, none of the pages are wrinkled with water damage, and he would never be so careless so what exactly—

“Oh my goodness!”

Secretary Kim, pen twirling in his hand, looks at you curiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes!” you squeak out, hiding out the manga behind your back. “I just… I just… it’s nothing! Everything is okay!”

“Alright then.”

While he goes back to his papers, you hurriedly turn around and check the book. It’s the same as it was a few seconds ago. Instead of a fearsome dragon and its hardworking rider on the cover, there is a teenage girl flanked by two boys with wolf ears. The title reads Tsukiko of the Wolves. You flip through, discovering with both amusement and disbelief that it’s a shoujo manga. There is nothing wrong with reading shoujo — you’ve read a fair share yourself when you were younger — but President Hwang is the least likely person you would expect to have a secret love for them. You regularly loan him your shounens to read, and he eagerly discusses each volume with you. He frequently complains about the romance, saying he’s reading it for the adventure, not for the love triangles.

This has to be a mistake. He has a younger sister who you’ve seen at the bookstore occasionally. It’s possible that they share a bookshelf and that he accidentally grabbed hers on accident. You put the protector back on, set it aside, and reach for the next book on the stack.

You have no real idea if it’s another shoujo or not, but NecRomancer sounds like one. The summary on the back describes a girl panicking about her newfound powers of resurrection and the attractive man she just brought back to life. You open to the middle of the manga and let out a squeak when you see the naked corpse on the page. It’s just another accident, it has to be. President Hwang is close with his sister, so it’s only natural that his manga would be close to hers. You try the next book in the stack, hoping that it’s one of yours.

The corner reveals a dark red cover, and you hold your breath, keeping an eye on Secretary Kim. He is still preoccupied with his work, muttering sentences and scribbling things down. You fully peel back the protector, and Why Do I Not Remember You? is written across the cover in glitter. Could this be his sister’s bag? No, she doesn’t use protectors.

You mindlessly thumb through the pages, seeing but not really seeing the crying woman being comforted by a stranger. Then at the flashbacks of broken beer bottles and a ring. The chances of this being a mistake are lessening. Once is a coincidence, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. Does this mean that…

The student council president reads shoujo manga?

You quickly replace the protector. Your heart pounds, and possibilities swim in front of you. At the very best, he will be mortified if he knows that you found out. At the very worst, the entire school will find out. President Hwang’s reputation will be tainted, and with the upcoming reelections, his reputation is of the utmost importance. If he’s not president, you might still be vice president, but what’s the point then? It’ll be no fun without him.

No one can find out about this.

Suddenly the double doors to the student council room burst open, and you drop Why Do I Not Remember You? onto the desk. President Hwang slouches in the doorframe, resting his hands on the handles, completely out of breath. A Blueprint Books bag hangs in his grasp. That must be the one containing your manga.

He looks up from the floor, and you realize you are directly in his line of sight. Your hands fly to the ribbon around your neck, and you begin to untie and retie it.

“President, are you alright?” you distantly hear Secretary Kim ask. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I’m alright.” President Hwang’s voice comes out strained as he notices you standing behind his desk, three books out in the open. “Vice President, I see you discovered the manga as expected.”

“I was just counting to make sure I got all five back,” you reply with a fake smile. He can’t know that you know because he will never speak to you again out of embarrassment. “You left the protectors on, by the way.”

He walks toward you. You are the perfect picture of innocence. He will not know. “Did you… check them?”

“No, I was in the middle of counting them. Why?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, but you can hear the relief. “I left the wrong bag for you last night. Working late must be getting to me, haha. Here you go. The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider.”

You peek inside, and sure enough, the volumes are there with no opaque protector to obscure the title on the spine. You clutch the bag in front of you like you can use it to hide the truth you have just uncovered. President Hwang stacks his shoujo manga back into his bag and tucks it underneath the desk. His face has gone pink, and he fans himself with the latest edition of the school newspaper.

“What did you think of it?” you ask to distract him. “Isn’t the artwork amazing?”

Mission successful. President Hwang’s eyes go glassy as he recalls the story in his head, and he stops his fanning. “It is. And the worldbuilding too! The academy is so different from the usual school settings, and the dragon breeds are so cool. Also, Hirajima is such a tsundere. He’s going to end up falling in love with Kimi, isn’t he? Ugh.”

“I won’t spoil it for you,” you cryptically reply. The president is holding tightly onto his facade, which you need him to do. “I’ll lend you the next five volumes tomorrow. Just wait until you get to the tournament arc. You’re going to love it.”

He groans and leans back into his chair. “Was that sarcasm?”

“No! Tournament arc is always the best arc! That’s why Feast of the Gods is so popular. Every arc is pretty much a tournament arc.”

President Hwang lights up even more at the mention of the fantasy cooking-themed manga. He borrowed it from you last month and loved it so much that he bought matching keychains for the entire council. “Secretary Kim is the bird's milk, Treasurer Lee is the silkworm flour, you’re the delphinium rose syrup, and I’m the volcanic pepper,” he explained.

“Why are you the pepper?” Treasurer Lee complained. “You can’t even handle spice.”

“Because I’m hot.”

While both the secretary and treasurer cackled and while the president grew increasingly embarrassed by his own claims, you did your best to focus on your new keychain and not him. He looked too attractive loosening his tie and running his fingers through his hair. He looked like a manga character come to life.

President Hwang’s comment snaps you out of your daydream. “The ending is good! I can’t believe that Ryuzaki actually—”

“Shouldn’t you two be working?” interrupts Secretary Kim’s flat voice. He peers at the two of you over his glasses and flicks his eyes towards the suggestion box he must have brought in earlier. “Especially with reelections coming up soon.”

“We’ll talk later,” President Hwang whispers to you. “I want to discuss my theory about Kimi and Bando with you.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go through the suggestions now before Secretary Kim gets mad.”

You walk over to the door and grab the suggestion box. It’s heavier than expected, and you hold it flush against your chest to keep it from slipping out of your grasp. President Hwang notices your struggling and meets you halfway. He nearly makes you drop it as his fingers brush yours while he takes it from you.

“Thanks,” you stammer out. Your hands are empty, so you toy with your ribbon again as you follow him back to the desk.

“No problem,” he says. He lifts open the lid and takes out the first paper on top. “Shin Ryujin is asking for more funding for the Tennis Club again. Speaking of tennis, have you seen the animations for Bleeding Heart? It’s so good.”

Though Bleeding Heart starts off like a shoujo, it devolves into a mystery. If it weren’t for the knowledge you have now, you would have teased President Hwang for watching it. Instead, you enthusiastically nod. “They play croquet, not tennis, but yes! They’re so smooth!”

“President, Vice President.”

You and President Hwang exchange sheepish smiles. He softly sighs and scans through the paper, playing with a lock of hair. You imagine him doing the same as he reads. Why is the image of him secretly reading shoujo manga so charming? You shouldn’t find it so when he has this much at stake. He needs to be reelected.

“What do you think?” he asks, pointing at a proposal that you should have been reading with him, interrupting your thoughts. He edges closer to you, and breathing is suddenly difficult. He smells like laundry detergent. “Are new uniforms justifiable?”

“Yes, I think so,” you choke out. “Excuse me for a minute.”

You practically run out of the student council room, stopping only when you reach a small alcove in the hall. It’s dim and quiet, and you can hear your heart trying to break out. You press your hand over it, trying to push it back inside. Heart attacks don’t feel like this, or so says the medical website you consulted. Your heart thunders against your wrist, and its beat perfectly matches your pulse.

Steady.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It eventually slows, and you return back to the room with more composure than you had earlier. Treasurer Lee has finally shown up, and you decide to help him with calculations instead of reviewing proposals with President Hwang. It’s better this way.

During the weekend, you head to Blueprint Books and wander down the aisles, trying to find the manga President Hwang reads. You know what he likes for shounens, so what is it for shoujos? You mindlessly swing your tote bag back and forth as you scan the shelves. He Doesn’t Know My Secret, Steampunked!, Squirrel Princess. It’s been some time since you visited this section of the store. As you look to the next shelf, you notice a familiar keychain hanging from someone’s pocket. When you do a double-take, to your surprise and horror, President Hwang is standing at the end of the aisle. He looks different when out of uniform. Good different.

Maybe you made a noise of some sort because before you can turn around and leave, he glances up from the book he holds. His eyes meet yours.

Disbelief. Confusion. Panic.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he shakily asks as he slides the manga back into place. He’s mostly calm, that’s good. If he can lie to you about it, surely the entire school will be a simple feat. “Is there a new release?”

You shake your head. “Just browsing. Are you buying something for your sister? I know you don’t like romance that much.”

The relief in his voice is palpable when he says, “Yeah. Do you have any recommendations?”

“What does she like?”

“What do you like? You read a lot of manga.”

The question makes you pause, and you recount all the conversations you’ve overheard during lunch. Shounens are more of your thing now, but you're not above shoujos. “I’ve heard good things about Best Friend Boyfriend and I Wouldn’t Change A Thing.”

“Have you read them?”

“Not yet, but I always hear people talking about them.” You shift from foot to foot. A change of subject is much needed. “How’s the campaign going?”

“It’s going well, I think. Yeji and her friends are asking everyone in their year to vote for me, so that’s cool. The Japanese Culture Club is apparently doing the same,” he answers. He thumbs his pepper keychain, and you instinctively reach for your complementing one. The tiny syrup bottle is cool on your skin. “What about you? You’re still going to be my vice president, right?”

‘My’ makes you warm. “Of course! Just worry about yourself. Han Jisung really wants your spot.”

“I’m not letting that happen. Trust me, on Friday, the principal’s going to announce me as president again. And you’re going to be vice president. Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee are going to be there as well. We’re going to be the student council until graduation.”

He says it with so much determination, you can’t help but laugh. “I really hope so. Hey, I’ll bring you the next five volumes of Dragon Rider on Monday. Just give me six through ten whenever you’re done.”

“Thanks. Do you want to borrow one of—”

“There you are!” President Hwang’s younger sister bounds into the aisle with a shopping basket filled with stationery. She furrows her eyebrows when she notices exactly which aisle her brother is in. “Don’t you have enough al—”

“I’m going to be late for dinner!” you interject. You step backwards, nearly bumping into the cardboard cutout of a manga character. “See you in class, President. Have a nice day. Bye.”

As you speed walk in the opposite direction, you hear his sister quietly ask him, “Wait, was that the vice president?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

You don’t hear if President Hwang replies anything because once you’ve turned the corner, you sprint out of the bookstore. It’s not until you’re home that you realize that you never found out what kind of shoujos he enjoys.

The days leading up to Friday are fraught with worry. Han Jisung is campaigning hard for the position this year. His small band of dedicated followers pass out flyers at the school gate every morning and trade lollipops for votes. Despite that, the president is unbothered.

“Did you watch the new episode of 00 Daniel?” he asks you on Wednesday.

You place your shoes inside your locker and shut the door. “Today’s the last day of voting, and you’re concerned about that?”

“I think the mission’s going to go badly this time. It’s been like five missions since his last screw up,” he continues like you said nothing. “There’s no way the season is ending without setting up for the next one.”

“President.”

“He’s not going to win, I promise. Treasurer Lee took a survey a few days ago, and I’m in the lead. The Mathematics Club’s survey confirmed the same thing.”

You start heading to your class with a resigned sigh, and President Hwang follows you even though he’s in a different room. He tugs on the sleeve of your blazer.

“You have nothing to worry about, Vice President,” he reassures. He lowers his head down to meet you at eye level. “It’s you and me until graduation, okay?”

You quickly nod and try not to burst into flames right on the spot. He’s too close yet not close enough.

“I think you’re right about 00 Daniel,” you stutter. “They’re taking too long to find the target too. I’ll see you after school then. Class is going to start soon.”

He retracts himself, a bit disappointed that you don’t want to speculate now. “Okay, we can talk later. See you.”

“See you.”

You two head to your respective classrooms. As you slide into your chair, you notice the boy next to you has a red candy wrapper on his desk. The girl in front of him has a purple one.

You really hope the Mathematics Club is right.

When Friday arrives, your stomach is in knots, and you feel ready to pass out at a moment’s notice. The traffic lights are slow today, making your usual stroll to school longer than usual. Students your age all the way down to elementary, pass you by, laughing and chatting with their friends. How can they be so relaxed when the results of the election come out this morning? You bet the paper announcement is already tacked to the bulletin board at the front of the school.

“Good morning,” comes a familiar voice.

“Good morning,” you reply back. President Hwang easily falls into step with you and holds out a tote bag to you. “Oh, you finished all of them?”

“Yeah. That last battle was crazy! I can’t believe it ended like that. And the epilogue! I knew it would happen! I feel so bad for Bando and… You okay? You look a little sick.”

“It’s nothing.” You take the bag from him and hold the books to your chest. You peek inside to make sure the protectors are off and to check that he gave you the right bag. No shoujo manga this time. “Are you nervous?”

He’s surprisingly apprehensive when he asks, “About what?”

“The election?”

“Oh. No, not really. Are you?”

“A little bit,” you lie as the two of you walk through the gate. The bulletin board is surrounded by a crowd, and you’re ready to march through to see what the paper says. Please let President Hwang be on there. “Let’s go.”

But the president is soon stopped by Han Jisung and his followers. Han Jisung holds his hand out, and you hold your breath as he opens his mouth.

“Congratulations on winning, President,” he says with a good-natured smile. He shifts his gaze to you. “And you as well, Vice President.”

You let out an audible sigh and quickly cover it with a cough when everyone looks at you. “Thank you.”

President Hwang shoots you a knowing grin, making you blush, before exchanging pleasantries with his defeated opponent. In the meantime, you push through the crowd to double-check the results. There it is in black ink: Hwang Hyunjin as President. Relief floods through your body, and you happily accept the other students’ congratulations and swap theories about the upcoming season of 00 Daniel with your fellow manga and anime fans.

“Told you,” President Hwang later says after he manages to get away from Han Jisung. He shuts your locker door with one finger. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hey, are you going home now?” President Hwang asks. With no changes in the student council, everything is business as usual, including Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee leaving as soon as they can on Fridays.

“Yeah. Are you staying late again?”

“Not today. Want to walk home together?”

“S-sure.”

While he reorganizes the papers on his desk, you fiddle with the strap of the tote bag. It’s not the first time you’ve walked home with the president, but it sends you into a panic every time. The golden sun and orange sky makes everyone look beautiful but him especially so. It’s difficult not to be tongue tied around him when he looks exactly like the lead of a shoujo manga.

Manga. The thing that accelerated your feelings for him in the first place. His good looks and his sweet talking charm were enough for you to notice him, so learning he shared the same hobby as you? Discovering that he adored coming up with theories?

You were smitten.

“You ready?” he interrupts.

“Yeah.”

The two of you make it to the front entrance before he stops and turns to you. “Actually, before we go, can I show you something first? It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Sure. What is it?” You follow him through the school, taking note that he seems to be headed to the courtyard.

“Have you read Limitless?”

As you step over a pile of fallen cherry blossoms, you rack your brain. You read it a long time ago, mostly because it was on every recommendation list online. “The shoujo about the math tutors? It’s been some time, but yes. What about it?”

President Hwang stops in the middle of the courtyard and faces you again. The sun is behind him, the rays of light forming a crown on his head. “Well, there’s a scene near the end that I thought you might like.”

The end of Limitless…

… features a confession scene in the school courtyard.

He gently takes your hands. “Do you remember the first day we were elected? I was the first person in the room, and I was so nervous to meet you because I didn’t know that much about you. Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee said you were really kind, but I was still nervous. Then you ran into the room with a bunch of manga and almost tripped over the rug. You laughed it off and held out a book for me to shake since your hands were full.”

“It was the first volume of Feast of the Gods,” you whisper. That day is burned in your mind. “Lee Chaeryeong just finished the first ten volumes and gave them back to me.”

“And then I asked you if I could borrow them because I wanted to read them but Blueprint was out of stock. You said yes immediately, and that’s when I knew that you and I would be a great team. When you wanted to listen to me talk about the chapters I read, that’s when I knew I liked you. And when you continued to offer me other series to borrow, that’s when I knew I had to tell you. So,” he breathes, “here it is. I like you, and I want to be with you.”

“I… I like you too.”

He breaks out into a grin and wraps you in a hug. He still smells like laundry detergent, and you bury your nose in the collar of his shirt.

“What do we do now?” he softly laughs as he pulls away. “The shoujo mangas usually stop here and cut to a new scene.”

The words fly out of your mouth without thinking. “So is that why you’ve been reading shoujos? For the confession?”

His smile falters but recovers soon after. “Yeji gave it away last weekend, huh? Ah, I was hoping you hadn’t heard her.”

“Actually… I found out when you gave me back Dragon Rider the first time,” you admit. You twirl the ends of the ribbon around your neck. “I took off the protectors and saw some of them. But there’s nothing wrong with liking shoujo! I was just surprised since you always say you hate romance.”

“I mean, I did. I started reading them for confession tips, but then it turns out some of them are really good. Like Limitless? And then I started reading my sister’s, and I kind of like them now. Is that weird?”

“No. Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

“Really? You’re not weirded out by that?”

“Not even a little bit. I don’t care what you read as long as you’ll talk to me about it after.”

“Well, I finished Winter Fireworks recently. Have you read it before?” When you shake your head, he takes a step closer and leans down. “It ends like this.”

As it turns out, the story ends with a kiss.

~ ad.gray

None of the mangas/animes mentioned actually exist. They’re just riffs of other fics we’ve written. Was this just a giant ad for them? Yeah, kind of lol. In order of appearance:

The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider ➞ Normal (Hyunjin)

Tsukiko of the Wolves ➞ 42nd Moon (Hyunjin)

NecRomancer ➞ Magic Words (Hyunjin) 

Why Do I Not Remember You? ➞ Eternally Yours (Hyunjin)

Feast of the Gods ➞ God’s Menu (Felix)

Bleeding Heart ➞ King of Hearts (Bang Chan)

He Doesn’t Know My Secret ➞ Harmony, Melody (Seungmin)

Steampunked! ➞ Matters of the Head and Heart (Felix)

Squirrel Princess ➞ Squirrel and Wife (Han)

Best Friend Boyfriend ➞ Ruin My Life (Lee Know)

I Wouldn’t Change A Thing ➞ Even if Things Were Different (Han)

00 Daniel ➞ Apologies in Advance (Lee Know)

Limitless ➞ love you to limx (Han)

Winter Fireworks ➞ Ringing in the New Year (Bang Chan)

bonus after credits scene

It’s only when the two of you are crossing the bridge do you realize what he has done. “You just spoiled the ending for me!”

“Sorry, I forgot.” After a few seconds, he asks, “Can I give you more spoilers?”

You reach for the front of his blazer. “Yes.”