#blended learning formats

[vammieposts]

I am going fucking insane do they make drivers ed intentionally brain melting??

Everytime i hear this mans voice i feel like im watching honey crystalize or paint dry or cheese Very Slowly grow moldy

Like i know im overreacting but i cant focus on this?? I have to do 30 hours and its like every time i start watching one of the videos my brain turns off and i cant focus on what hes saying i hate online learning stuff so much

i dont care if i have to go to a classroom just make me learn this in literally any other way than listening to this man reading aloud multiple choice questions from a weirdly formatted slideshow for 30 minutes straight with the crunchiest audio known to man

[relicsongmel]

Dena. Sweetie.

Pot, kettle.

[moonselune]

I've been playing alot of harvest moon/stardew recently and was wondering how the companions would react to a tav or durge prefering to settle down for the farming life post game. I know Shadowheart would love it anyway but Astarion would be the type to groan about the summer heat at times.

Btw love your work ❤️

Awh thank you! I freaking love stardew valley, I actually got to the point where I would see things in real life and be like oh i need that for my bundle...

Minthara:

Minthara had agreed to come with you back to your little patch of dirt. That was the first miracle.

She stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the rows of squash you'd lovingly planted weeks ago. Her elegant armor had been swapped—begrudgingly—for leather trousers and a dark green blouse with the sleeves rolled up. She claimed she only wore it because it “blended well with the shadows.”

In reality, she looked dangerously attractive, and you told her so often enough that it stopped earning you eye rolls.

“I still don’t see the appeal,” she muttered one morning, kneeling beside you in the loamy soil as you both weeded a row of carrots. “Endless dirt. Scratching at the ground like a deep gnome grub. You truly believe this is more fulfilling than conquering the Underdark?”

You grinned, pushing your hair back and letting the sun warm your face. “The carrots don’t scream when I pull them out of the ground.”

Minthara snorted—an actual laugh, short and sharp. She caught herself, frowning like she hadn’t meant to let it slip.

“I could grow mushrooms,” she said after a pause. “Real mushrooms. Not these surface-dwelling imitations.”

You perked up. “You want to farm?”

“I do not want to farm,” she snapped, yanking a weed a little too aggressively. “I simply think someone must bring standards to this pitiful excuse for agriculture.”

That night, you caught her carefully organizing mushroom spores in neat rows in the shaded part of the garden, whispering Drow words of encouragement under her breath.

And every evening, she helped you without complaint. She said it was only because you were “hopeless on your own,” but there was a softness in her touch when she handed you tools, when she brushed dirt from your face. Once, she found a fat, horned beetle in the lettuce patch and spent nearly an hour observing it before letting it crawl onto her hand and releasing it at the edge of the forest.

“I could get used to this,” she murmured that night, curled beside you on the porch. The stars glittered above like Underdark crystal formations, distant and sharp.

“You already have,” you whispered back.

She didn’t argue.

Karlach:

Karlach loved it from the very first moment she stepped onto the farm.

“This place is sick!” she bellowed, boots thudding across the dirt as she chased one of the goats around the field. “Look at this little beastie—oh, she’s got attitude! Just like me!”

You could barely keep up with her enthusiasm.

Where you had slowly learned the rhythm of the fields, Karlach plunged headfirst into it—planting, harvesting, repairing fences with her bare hands. She named every single animal and gave them nicknames too. Your prize ram? “Sir Headbutt.” The hen with the limp? “Motherclucker”

You’d wake some mornings to find her sitting in the barn, curled up with your herd of goats, one snoring against her shoulder as she scratched behind its ears.

You stood in the doorway, arms folded. “I’m starting to think you love the goats more than me.”

Karlach looked up, grinning that wild, warm grin. “Babe. You don’t chew cud and you hog the blankets. These little sweeties are pure, no complaints.”

You made a show of gasping in betrayal, and she laughed so hard she nearly toppled into the hay.

She was clumsy with gardening, planting seeds so deep they never saw the light of day, but she didn’t care.

“I’m all about the brawn of the operation, baby!” she said, hoisting a broken fence post like a weapon of war. “You’re the one with the gentle hands. You’re the heart. I’m just the muscle.”

You couldn’t count how many times you found her fixing things, adding improvements. She built a rainwater system for the fields, oiled the hinges of every barn door, and even made a small, hand-carved sign with all the names of the animals.

She hung it crooked on purpose.

And on summer days, when the sun burned and the sweat clung to your back, she'd scoop water straight from the well and splash it over both of you, laughing as you sputtered.

“You look good with dirt on your nose,” she’d say, brushing it off with her calloused thumb.

And you’d smile, because she was the kind of fire that didn’t burn—it warmed. And here, among the goats and gardens and peace, her flame could finally just... flicker, without fear.

Lae'zel:

No one had expected Lae’zel to take well to the slow life of a farm. She had always been all sharp angles, roaring fire, and a blade ready at a moment’s notice. But then again—no one had expected her to stay, either. And she did. With you.

What none of you accounted for was how seriously she’d take the training of the livestock.

"These creatures lack discipline!" she declared one morning, standing in the field, arms crossed and unimpressed as a trio of goats casually ignored her barking orders and continued to gnaw on the same patch of fence they’d been told—repeatedly—not to chew.

She turned to you, eyes narrowed. “Do they understand Common?”

"They understand,” you said, trying not to laugh as a particularly rebellious chicken pecked at her boot. “They just don’t care.”

You would have offered to help, but you were too busy melting at the sight of Xan, the tiny Githyanki infant wrapped securely to her chest in a sling you had made together. Lae’zel had first insisted that she didn’t need it—that she could carry her hatchling in her arms at all times like a proper warrior—but even she couldn’t argue with the convenience of two free hands. Especially for chicken combat.

You’d find her some mornings standing in the pasture, her face serious as she recited commands to the goats and hens like they were soldiers on a battlefield. "Form ranks! Maintain spacing! No, Clucker, no! That is not your perch—”

And all the while, little Xan would nap contentedly against her, a bundle of soft green skin and big yellow eyes, utterly unmoved by the chaos of the yard. Occasionally he’d gurgle and tug at her leathers with one hand. Every time you saw the two of them, your heart swelled nearly to bursting.

You leaned against the fence one afternoon, watching as a pig stubbornly refused to move out of Lae'zel's designated “training circle.”

“You know,” you said, grinning as she glared at it with more intensity than she had ever shown a goblin, “maybe farming isn’t about commanding obedience.”

“It should be,” she replied sharply. “They would be more efficient.”

Still, you saw her lips twitch when a goat headbutted her in protest. And she didn’t stop them from clambering all over her later when you both sat in the grass and let Xan play in the sun.

Shadowheart:

The house was small, sun-dappled, and always smelled like hay and something baking. Scratch lay sprawled across the front steps most days, belly-up, completely spoiled. The owlbear—too big for the barn, too curious to be penned—had taken to nesting in the orchard, gently knocking apples from the trees like it was performing some kind of divine rite.

Shadowheart had fallen in love with it all faster than even she expected.

You found her in the mornings tending to the goats with a quiet, practiced grace, her long hair tied up messily, a smear of dirt across one cheek that she never noticed. Her cleric’s robes had been replaced with linen tunics and earth-toned skirts—though her armor still hung by the door, just in case.

“What happened to the chicken pen?” you asked once, only to be met with a long sigh and her pointing silently toward Scratch—muddy, feather-covered, and absolutely unrepentant.

You were never alone. Not really. The animals had adopted you both. Scratch followed you everywhere. The owlbear guarded the house like it was the holiest temple. You even had a few stray cats that Shadowheart swore she didn’t feed, but you caught her slipping them treats more often than not.

Still, there was one part of the land she hadn’t explored yet—because you were keeping it a secret.

You worked on it in the evenings, tucked away behind the western slope of the hill. A dozen rows of posts were driven deep into the soil, with the first few vines already climbing, green tendrils reaching for the sky. You’d been studying grape varieties, borrowing books from Gale, and mapping sun paths like your life depended on it.

And finally, one golden evening, you took her hand and said, “There’s something I want to show you.”

She followed without question, her fingers warm in yours, and when you rounded the hill, her breath caught.

“You—” she started. “You planted a vineyard?”

“For us,” you said simply. “I know you love wine. I thought… one day, you could make your own.”

She stared in stunned silence, eyes glossy in the light.

“This is…” Her voice trembled, and she smiled so wide you saw the dimples that only showed when she was truly, deeply happy. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” She launched herself at you, arms thrown around your neck, kissing you with such fervor that you stumbled backward into the half-dug earth. “You sappy, wonderful thing. I don’t deserve you.”

“You absolutely do,” you whispered, burying your face in her hair.

And from the other side of the hill, the owlbear let out a low hoot of approval—promptly followed by Scratch barking and barreling toward the two of you like a freight train.

“You know,” Shadowheart said as you braced for impact, “we might have too many animals.”

“I regret nothing.”

Jaheira:

Jaheira had said no at first.

She’d crossed her arms, brow furrowed in that eternally war-hardened way, and declared she was not the “settling down type.” A Harper, a druid, a warrior—too much duty still ran in her blood, and she wasn’t one to lie to herself.

And yet, you often found her on the porch in the morning, sleeves rolled up, tending to the basil or trimming back the ivy that tried to swallow the trellis. Her hands were calloused, steady, already shaped by years of coaxing life from the soil—and the moment she touched the earth here, she remembered. Not war. Not rebellion.

Peace.

She fit into the rhythm of the farm as if she’d always belonged. Milking the goats, harvesting herbs, reorganizing the tool shed within an inch of its life.

“A sharpened blade is less likely to betray you than a dull one,” she’d say when she caught you leaving shears in the dirt. You tried—gently—to get her to stop sometimes.

“Jaheira,” you’d say, handing her a mug of tea in the shade, “you’re supposed to relax. Remember that? The whole ‘breathing’ thing?”

She’d huff, but her smile would betray her.

“I’ll rest when the tomatoes stop growing unevenly,” she’d mutter, before adding with quiet fondness, “Besides… this is good work. Healing work.”

And the best days—the very best days—were when her children visited.

The younger ones would come tumbling down the trail with satchels and stories, running up to greet their mother, who stood like a pillar of strength at the garden gate. The number of times Jaheira had to pry Fig from a scarecrow as she was practising her 'wrestling moves' was one too many. You’d watch her soften visibly, smile lines crinkling, arms open as they piled into her.

They helped with the animals, with mixed results. One of them always ended up covered in chicken feathers, another face-first in a flowerbed, and Jaheira would roll her eyes while secretly delighting in every second of it.

It was domestic. Soft. Loud and messy and full of warmth.

Every now and then, you’d catch her staring out over the fields as the sun set, a quiet melancholy in her eyes. You knew she felt the pull of Harper duty—that someday, she’d have to return to that life. But she never pulled away from this one.

And you never stopped reminding her: “This moment is yours. Don’t let it slip away.”

Gale:

Gale loved farm life. Maybe a bit too much.

He delighted in every step of the process—from sowing seeds to baking fresh bread in the stone oven. He was the first to rise (with magically summoned coffee, of course), and the last to go to bed, always muttering about “optimal composting cycles” and “rotational planting enchantments.”

You never had to worry about the crops failing. Not when Gale enchanted the soil to stay perfectly moist and fertile. Not when your scarecrow occasionally waved to you and politely asked for new clothes.

And that might’ve been fine.

Until he started taking the produce to Blackstaff Academy.

"Look at this carrot!" he’d proclaim with the glee of a proud parent, holding up a perfectly orange, absolutely normal vegetable.

Then he’d bring it back.

And it would be the size of a horse’s leg, glowing faintly, humming with a magical pulse, and—for reasons unknown—smelling like cinnamon.

"Gale!" you’d exclaim. "It’s a carrot. It does not need to be arcane-tuned!"

“But imagine the nutritional value!” he’d insist, delighted. “It now increases constitution by two points for an hour! Also, I added a small glamour charm—look, it sparkles in the moonlight!”

You buried your face in your hands. “It was for stew. Now it looks like it is for a health potion with a beard.”

The tomatoes came back one week with eyes and a faint sense of existential dread. The potatoes exploded on contact with fire. A single cucumber once tried to recite Elminister.

You instituted a new rule: No magical alterations unless specifically requested.

Gale apologized with his signature dramatic charm, bowing deeply and presenting you with a bouquet of roses (grown in your garden, made of light, that sang quietly when touched). You forgave him. Eventually.

You did catch him sneaking a pumpkin to his satchel the next week. You pretended not to see it.

After all, the man who once swallowed a Netherese orb deserved a little whimsy.

But gods help him if your wine starts talking.

Astarion:

The summer sun blazed above your little stretch of farmland, turning the sky into a wide, cloudless expanse of light and heat. Cicadas sang from the trees. The golden fields shimmered. You were sweating through your shirt, but you'd gotten used to it by now. Not everyone had, though.

“I am wilting,” Astarion declared from the shade of a fig tree, fanning himself with a piece of parchment and looking like the most glamorous corpse in Faerûn.

You were knee-deep in the garden bed, dirt up to your elbows, pulling weeds with the satisfied sort of grunt that only came from knowing your tomatoes were going to thrill the next farmer’s market.

“You know, you are wearing a magical ring that lets you walk in the sun,” you reminded him, not even glancing back.

“Yes, and I am grateful,” he said in a tone that was both long-suffering and exasperated. “But that doesn’t mean I must enjoy it. Honestly, do farms not understand the concept of ‘shade’? Or a cool breeze? Or a bloody parasol?”

You chuckled and wiped sweat from your brow. “I can take the ring back, you know. Could always go back to lurking in crypts and brooding in velvet.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then: “How dare you.”

You turned just in time to see him stalk toward you, predator grace still intact despite his muttering.

“That was a threat, wasn’t it?” he said, tone mock-scandalized. “You’d condemn me to a shadowed existence just to win this argument?”

Before you could get a word out, Astarion planted both hands on your chest and shoved. You stumbled backward with a yelp, landing with a mighty splash in the nearby pond, water closing over your head with a slap. When you surfaced, spitting water and pushing your hair out of your face, he was at the edge of the pond, arms folded, grinning.

“Next time you threaten to take away my precious accessories,” he said smugly, “perhaps you’ll remember who you’re dealing with.”

“Oh, I remember,” you said, swimming toward him with a grin of your own. “I also remember that you’re a terrible swimmer.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you—!”

You grabbed his ankle and yanked. Astarion screeched like an offended seagull as he tumbled in after you, limbs flailing in the most elegant way a vampire can flail. The water swallowed him with a splash, and when he resurfaced, gasping, you were already laughing.

“Well,” you said, treading water beside him. “You’re cool now.”

His curls were plastered to his forehead, pale skin gleaming with pond water, clothes clinging in all the right places.

“I loathe you,” he hissed, completely unconvincing as he waded toward you.

“You love me,” you replied, and when he tried to dunk you under, you laughed even harder. He did try to drown you (with affection), and the pond echoed with splashes and laughter long into the afternoon.

Wyll:

Wyll loved the farm. Really, truly loved it. He dove into farm life with the same unshakable optimism he brought to battle: sleeves rolled up, a bright smile on his face, and an absolutely terrible sense of crop rotation.

“Look!” he said, beaming, holding up a vaguely wilted carrot. “That’s my fifth one! It only took me six tries!”

The carrot was... lopsided. And slightly blue.

You peered at it. “Wyll... did you plant it next to Gale’s ‘experimental vegetables’ again?”

He gave you a sheepish grin. “Maybe?”

Despite his noble upbringing, Wyll took to labor like it was second nature. He loved feeding the chickens (even if they pecked at his boots), singing as he milked the goats (who responded by trying to eat his shirt), and tending the soil (even if he constantly mixed up which plants needed full sun or partial shade).

But he tried. Gods, did he try.

He’d wake up before sunrise to help gather eggs and bring you wildflowers with muddy fingers and a bashful smile. He gave names to every single pumpkin, saluted the cows like old comrades, and taught the pigs how to sit. (One of them sort of learned. You suspected it was coincidence.)

The vegetables he harvested often ended up a little too bruised, or crooked, or tiny—but he presented them with the proud air of someone who had just defeated a demon lord.

“This one’s for you,” he’d say, placing a funny little beet in your hand like it was a diamond.

And honestly? It was perfect. Because Wyll’s joy was infectious. His laughter echoed over the fields. His presence made every sunrise feel warmer, every day brighter. Even if his corn always grew sideways.

“I might not be the best farmer,” he’d admit, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I’m exactly where I want to be.”

And when you kissed him, fingers brushing dirt from his cheek, you couldn’t help but agree.

Halsin:

If anyone was born to thrive on a farm, it was Halsin.

Where others groaned about early mornings and sore backs, Halsin greeted the day with that warm, deep voice and a calm certainty that made the roosters crow more enthusiastically. Shirtless more often than not, with the morning light catching on his golden skin and broad shoulders, he looked like a god of the harvest incarnate—muscles flexing as he hefted hay bales like they were pillows.

You tried not to gawk every time he wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his tunic.

(You failed often.)

“I thought you were a druid,” you teased one day, leaning on a fencepost, watching him load the cart with fresh hay. “Shouldn’t you be turning into a bear and napping under trees or something?”

Halsin smiled, the kind of smile that settled in your bones like warmth. “Being one with nature doesn’t mean shying away from hard work. Besides, the goats get nervous when I shift. And they like it when I talk to them.”

He said this while gently stroking the head of a particularly moody billy goat, who stared up at him like he hung the moon.

You raised a brow. “Are you telling them secrets?”

“I’m telling them not to eat your herb garden,” he said. “Again.”

It wasn’t just his strength or his ease with the animals—it was the way Halsin belonged here. The land responded to him. Trees leaned in closer. The soil felt richer. Even the bees seemed to hover around him longer than they should’ve. And when the chores were done and you sat together beneath the old oak with your hands dirty and your hearts full, it felt like everything was in balance.

He never rushed you, never questioned your need for this life. He only helped shape it into something stronger, steadier. More alive.

And when he pressed a kiss to your temple after a long day, murmuring about stew for dinner and the chickens needing checking, and building some new play equipment for the goats -and the orphans, you couldn't help but smile.

Because your druid? He wasn’t just a bear in the forest. He was the heart of this little farm.

OMG how freaking wholesome was this, I did it more as a drabble style as I kinda had rambling thoughts about this, but I hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[muzansfangs]

OH! one in which muzan is the head of an agency and yn is his secretary but one day muzan is very stressed and knowingly yn enters his room to talk about the meeting and muzan takes out all his anger on her..😋 (pretty pls ☝️

Cock sleeve.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: nsfw, clothed sex, modern au, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, dom!Muzan, sub!reader, spanking, creampie, language, dirty talk, degradation kink;

Plot: You knew Muzan like the back of your hand. Working as his secretary, you witnessed to his mood swings and you knew damn well when it was better off to keep your distance from him. However, it was time for some tea and you honestly could not wait to serve your boss with a treat he liked to claim when he was upset.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Your scalp felt numb from the cruel grip on your hair. Tears streamed down your cheeks, some of the salty droplets violently splashing onto the mahogany desk of your boss’s office with each brutal thrust of his hips. Your glasses, the ones he had demanded you to wear, ignoring if you actually needed them to see or not, were sliding down your nose and you could not push them back up, or remove them. Your hands had been bounded by one of his hands, the grip so tight to bruise your wrists.

You should have expected him to react so ferally, when you waltzed into the room without knocking on the door, after some of his subordinates had clearly left him with a foul mood to deal with. To be honest, this was what you wanted. Asking him which blend of tea he preferred to sip on, stupidly standing on the threshold with that scanty dress of yours was nothing but your attempt to get under his skin. If getting fucked dry was what you were yearning for that afternoon, Muzan was more than compliant to satisfy your whim.

Mr. Kibutsuji grunted, head lolling back as your sappy cunt milked him up deliciously. His hands roughly spread your ass cheeks, hips moving slower now, his length dragging along your spongy walls to enjoy the sight of his cock disappearing between your slippery folds.

“Look at how wet you are, you whore! One wrong move and I might slip out” he scolded you, slamming his hips against yours harder this time. Your ass jiggled, a sob escaping your lips for the overstimulation he was forcing you to endure. It was not unusual of him to treat you so coldly, brutally, as if you were nothing but a piece of meat.

Muzan scoffed, the open palm of his hand landing harshly on the tender flesh of your right rear. Your cries and whimpers were a symphony he wished was recorded, so that he could play it on repeat even in the privacy of his bedroom, when he had no one to fuck to oblivion to alleviate his stress. Masturbating on you, though, was better than bringing home the first frivolous girl he met at the bar, or at social events. Those women could not quench his thirst as you did.

Now as he rotated his hips against yours, you clenched around him and slammed the open palm of your hand over the desk, teary eyes looking at the door anxiously. You were sure everyone knew what was going on between you two by now. You were uncapable to keep it loud. Yet, you also knew that staying silent, impossible anyway, would have not pleased your boss. You had learned to value his personal fulfillment more than your dignity and your sense of shame had been long gone since the first time he had bent you over that desk.

The elastic band of your panties was unforgivingly bruising your inner thigh, where it had been pushed by his deft fingers to expose you. He had not even bother undressing you two. Unbuckling his belt, unzipping his trousers and pushing your undergarment to the side was good enough for him.

“How does it feel knowing you are nothing by a cock sleeve?” he hissed suddenly, hand slipping underneath you to seek your clitoris.

You closed your eyes, cheek resting against the hard wood beneath you “G-Good. It feels good, Muzan” you breathed out, the extra pleasure engulfing your belly almost overwhelming you. It was too much. Fluids oozed out of you copiously, while the blissful, mind-blowing sensation of orgasming not even provided you some sort of relief. Exhausted, you soon regretted your words as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to strain your neck.

The warm breath escaping his lips in heavy pants wafted over your jawline “How did you call me?”.

You refused to answer. Swallowing thickly, the glimpse of his enraged expression made your insides twist in anticipation. You had not even thought about the rules he had set between you two. You were too drained to formulate a reasonable reply, or merely thinking before babbling out what he considered insults.

A harsh tug on your hair made you whimper, his cock still nestled deep into you “Answer me!”.

“Muzan! I called you Muzan!”.

“Is that how I told you to address me?” he thundered, mouth finding an exposed portion of skin between your neck and the shoulder, teeth leaving their mark behind.

You wept underneath him, tears falling from your lashes nonstop at this point. He had instructed you about your intercourses. You did not have a ‘safe word’, but you were well-aware that he would have let you go if you behaved. All you had to do was giving him what he wanted.

“No, it’s not! — you blurted out, pressing your hips up against his navel out of a reflex you could not control — I’m dismayed! K-Kibutsuji… Mr. Kibutsuji, please! I can’t hold on any longer” you whimpered out, this time striking a chord in his otherwise detached heart.

Muzan was a cold-blooded man. He did not pay any mind to the people around him. He only took decisions beneficial to him, without self-doubting at all. Despite that, when he began to gently thrust into you, lips leaving small kissed over your cheek you could not help yourself but esteem him a generous man.

You were not capable to climax again, but you were delighted when he finished deep inside you. A moment after he composed himself, he made it his problem to clean up the excess of seed seeping out of your abused hole. Fixing back your underwear and skirt, he left you a glass of water to drink beside you head, before going back home. Once again, it was your duty to close the office.

When you finally pushed yourself back up, legs shaky and ache in your private parts, you knew only one thing for sure: Muzan Kibutsuji was a devil of his word.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Sometimes, I just like to indulge into such requests because they simply remind me of my username and how deeply I love this man. Muzan, one of the most despicable fictional men to ever exist, yet here I am to defend him.

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Luce

[muxshwriting]

a real home

dagger squad x gn!reader

summary: no squadron has ever felt like home before, it hasn’t had the chance, but everything seems different with this one || warnings: attachment issues, fluff, alcohol mentioned || word count: 1412 || masterlist

When you graduated Top Gun, it was the happiest moment of your life. There were no words to describe how years of dedication and hard work had finally paid off for this moment. It had been your dream since you were small and to be able to truly live it was like nothing else.

Then you were given your first assignment, a fill in for an injured pilot that had been grounded for a few months. The lack of permanence attached to your job didn’t even occur to you at that time, it was a actual assignment that you would be competing as a naval aviator from Top Gun. Then the injured pilot recovered and returned and your first squadron had no need for you anymore.

There was a big fuss about you leaving, drinks in a bar and a nice meal out to say goodbye. They showed you the best of them and you truly treasured the months you got to spend with them.

But your next assignment was for temporary fill as well. It was fine, you’d done it before. Temporary didn’t mean you weren’t valued. Except, in this squadron, it kind of felt like it did. They made it very clear that you weren’t part of their unit. You were an outsider, here to fly in the back of formations and leave when your time was up.

There was no drinks when you left that squad, only a handshake from your commander and a mutter about a recommendation for your stellar behaviour and attitude.

It seemed you were the first person on the list for temporary fills and partial positions for the Navy because every assignment you were given was one. You could never call a squadron yours or say you belonged to a unit. You were just the stand in until the right fit stumbled along to replace you. Now that you’d gone so many years without a squadron, the hope of finally having your ow faded with every job you were given. Why would they give you a permanent position now that you could fit and blend so well with any group you were pushed into?

There was one issue with that line of thinking, however. You faked every bouncing introduction, every beaming smile, every connection with your fellow aviators because nothing ever felt real to you. There was no point becoming attached, only to be pulled away. You had learned that after squad number three.

You got the call from your commander for a meeting the day before. It was another assignment, you assumed.

“You’ve been requested in Miramar for the squadron let by Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick.” Your commander recited and handed you a file containing all the information about your new squadron. “Understood?”

“Yes Sir.”

“You leave at 0800 tomorrow morning.”

Miramar was a few hours south of your current station, one of the very few you hadn’t been stationed at yet. It was also the home of Top Gun, a place you dearly missed. It would be nice to be based there again, being able to watch the cadets perfect their craft. But you also realised that Maverick’s squadron was the infamous Dagger Squad, made up of the best pilots that Top Gun has produced. Why would they bring you into their squadron? Surely they were skilled enough to function if they were down a member.

When you landed, there was already a place for your plane set up with runway attendants pointing you to a gap in the line of F-18’s. That should have been the first sign that this deployment was something different to all the others. No other squadron had your plane in the middle of theirs before, always parked off the side.

The good signs just kept coming as the squadron seemed to pull you into their group the moment you stepped into the common room with them. They would laugh about the weirdest things, whispering explanations of inside jokes to you so you could be included.

You’re hesitant by their camaraderie from the beginning but they leave you no space to object, dragging you out to the Hard Deck, a favourite since your Top Gun days.

The bar brought back all the memories of your younger days, when life seemed just that bit simpler and you never had to worry about belonging anywhere.

Penny leaned over the bar to Maverick. “Who’s the newbie?” She asked him, pointing to you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. They’ve been a floater for countless squadrons, filling in for injuries and call outs. None of their deployments have lasted beyond a year.”

Penny frowned. “How did they end up with you guys? You aren’t down anyone.”

“I requested them.” He explained. “No one should be without a squadron for that long. They finished top of their class at Top Gun and their first squad cashed in a favour they had to get them to fill in for a few months after one of their pilots injured himself. They wanted the best for their squad and they got it. But then Y/L/N had nowhere to go afterwards.”

“That’s tough.”

Maverick nodded in agreement. “I want them to have something that’s not just momentary.”

“A squad.”

“A home.”

The night wears on and you finally say a goodnight, eventually ending up crashing at Phoenix’s place. She’s got some nice digs in the town, nicer than any other Navy housing you’ve been in. You’re still on base housing, not bothering to look for something more permanent if you’ll be leaving in a few months. Leases are a nightmare to get in and out of.

But as the months wear on and there’s no talk or even suggestion of you going anywhere, your mind starts to turning cogs that have become rusted and cranky. It’s finally a performance review with Maverick that sets the machine in motion.

“You’ve settled in remarkably. I looked through your previous assignments and all of your previous commanders had nothing bad to say about. I’m inclined to agree with them apart from one thing.”

You stay silent, waiting for him to say something that will mean the end of your deployment here. Maybe your manoeuvres aren’t up to his par. You’ve been winning the dogfights but that’s not always a reflection of your ability.

“I feel like you’re withholding something from this squad, like you’re waiting for it to end.”

His word feel like a punch to the stomach. He’s finally mentioned the possible end. This is it.

“Your position on this team is permanent, do you understand that?”

“What?” The word slips out of your mouth before you can compose your brain.

“This isn’t another temp position. Were you not told that at the beginning of your deployment?”

Your mind is racing as you take a breath in and as his words settle, it feels like the first breath you’ve taken in years. Is this what breathing is? What have you been doing this whole time? “I was not Sir.”

“Then that would explain why you’re still in base digs. We need to get you a house in Miramar. I’ve been waiting for an application.”

“This is permanent?” You can’t stop the look of worry being etched on your face as you clarify.

Maverick’s eyes soften. “As long as you want it.”

The emotion bubbles inside you, expressing itself as the tears fill your eyes. You hurriedly wipe them before they can fall, trying to act like nothing is happening.

“Thank you Sir. I’ll- I’ll put in that housing request.”

“I’ll look forward to receiving it.”

The key to your new house feels heavy in your hand as you stand in front of the door. It’s something you’ve never had before, another reminder that you aren’t going anywhere. And now, you had a house that was yours, to live and stay in.

You’ve truly settled in, everything where you want it to be when there’s a knock at the door. You open it and half of the squad, your squad you remind yourself, are stood there. Some hold housewarming gifts, most brought alcohol but you know it’s appreciated.

They filter in and your new house is filled with laughter and joy and the sound of beers being cracked and cans opened. Your new house is officially a home and now it truly feels it too.

Sometimes it isn’t the place that’s home, but the people that make you feel like you actually belong.

feel free to send in a request xx

[imnotjustreadingg]

bucky barnes alphabet head canons

a/n: if someone wants a fic based on this alphabet let me know 

A – Affection Bucky is reserved in public but deeply affectionate in private. He loves subtle touches—brushing his fingers against yours, hand on the small of your back. Once he feels safe, he’s always touching you somehow.

B – Bedhead He’s not a morning person, and his bedhead is chaos. Soft brown waves sticking up in every direction. You tease him about it, and he just grumbles, pulling the covers over his head.

C – Cooking He tries. He burns toast and under-seasons everything, but he’s stubborn about learning because he wants to cook for you. Eventually, he masters breakfast—pancakes, eggs, and your favorite coffee blend.

D – Dark Past He struggles with guilt and nightmares. There are days he disappears into himself, and on those days, your steady presence is everything. He doesn’t need you to fix him—just to be there.

E – Envy He gets quietly jealous. Not possessive, but if someone flirts with you, he’ll hover a little closer. His arm around your waist says, “She’s mine,” without needing a word.

F – Flirting Dry, deadpan sarcasm is his love language. He doesn’t even realize he’s flirting half the time—just says something sharp and smirks when you laugh or blush.

G – Gifts He gives simple, meaningful gifts—an old book you once mentioned, a dog tag necklace with his initials, a scribbled note tucked into your bag. Thoughtful and deeply personal.

H – Hair He keeps it long because you once said you liked it. He lets you braid it sometimes. It calms him. He’ll never admit how much he loves your fingers in his hair.

I – Injuries He’s reckless with himself, especially in missions. When he gets hurt, he brushes it off unless you’re upset—then suddenly he’s letting you patch him up, eyes on you the whole time.

J – Jokes He’s dry and sarcastic, but surprisingly funny once he warms up to people. Dad jokes? Only to annoy Sam. With you, his humor is gentler, quieter, often delivered with a tiny smirk.

K – Kisses He’s a very good kisser—slow, intense, hands in your hair or gripping your hips. But forehead kisses? Those are sacred. He gives them when he’s feeling protective, soft, or scared.

L – Love Language Acts of Service and Physical Touch. He does things for you without being asked—fixes stuff, walks the dog, learns how to make your favorite dinner. He touches you like he needs reassurance you’re real.

M – Music He has a secret vinyl collection—mostly ’40s and classic rock. Music calms his mind. He’ll play Nat King Cole or The Ink Spots when he’s nostalgic. He lets you pick the playlist on road trips, even if it’s pop.

N – Nicknames He calls you “Doll” when he’s flirting, “Sweetheart” when he’s soft, and “Trouble” when you’re being sassy. You calling him “Buck” melts him. He pretends it doesn’t.

O – Overprotective Yes. Absolutely. He watches your six on every mission. If someone raises their voice at you, he’s immediately tense—but he respects your space and lets you fight your own battles unless you’re hurt.

P – PDA Minimal in public. He’ll hold your hand, maybe press a kiss to your temple. In private? He’s all about holding you, especially from behind. He likes feeling you against his chest.

Q – Quirks He talks to his plants. He has an irrational hatred for self-checkout kiosks. He’s meticulous about his knives but constantly loses his phone. Also: sleeps in dog-pile formation with Alpine if you let him get a cat.

R – Regrets Too many. He thinks he’s damaged, not good enough for you. Some nights he can’t sleep because he’s sure he’ll lose you too. He needs reminders that you chose him, and you’re not going anywhere.

S – Soft Spot You. Everything about you. Especially your smile and how you say his name when you’re half-asleep. Also: kids. He pretends he doesn’t know what to do with them, but they adore him.

T – Tattoos You convince him to get a small tattoo after a mission. He chooses something minimal—a star, initials, coordinates—hidden beneath his shirt. He lets you design it.

U – Unwinding Post-mission, he wants quiet. He decompresses with music, a shower, and curling up with you on the couch, preferably under a weighted blanket. Your presence soothes the static in his brain.

V – Vulnerability It terrifies him, but he lets you see it. You’ve seen him cry in the dark, tell stories about the Howlies, admit things he’s never said out loud. You never run. That’s how he knows it’s real.

W – Workouts He’s a machine in the gym but tries to convince you to spar “just for fun” so he can be close to you. He always lets you win. (Okay, almost always.)

X – X-Factor His quiet strength. He doesn’t need to shout to command attention. He carries so much pain and still chooses love, loyalty, and softness. That makes him powerful—and irresistible.

Y – Yearning Before you were together, he watched from afar. Never thought he had a chance. He wrote your name in his journal, not as a mission but a wish.

Z – Zzz (Sleep) He’s a light sleeper—trauma made sure of that. But your presence helps. He wraps himself around you at night, flesh arm draped over your waist, metal arm cradling your head. 

[otomes-and-tears]

If its ok, I wanna request a qiu x reader (step 2) where reader keeps doodling qiu subconciously and they end up dropping one of their doodles somewhere, and qiu finds it :0 sorry if this is formatted wrong, ive never requested something before aaa!!!!

♦ Qiu finds MC's drawing of them ♦

►tags and warnings: GN reader, Step 2

► words: 1696 words

► A/N: I AM ALIVE I SWEAR I promise I can still write more than just Shiloh brainrot!

► Masterlist

It wasn’t really on purpose.

MC was trapped in the clutches of a terrible art block. It had been weeks since they managed to draw something they were satisfied with, and the creative stagnation gnawed at them, leaving them restless. Then there was Qiu, sitting a few seats ahead, their messy hair carelessly tied into a crooked ponytail, soft features relaxed in quiet boredom. MC didn’t even realize they had started sketching Qiu until the drawing was done— their fingertips smudged with graphite as they blended the last of the rough shading into the pencil sketch.

It looked good. Far better than any of their recent, fruitless attempts at drawing. The creases on their baggy sweater and the small intricacies of their expression almost perfectly captured in their style.

Part of MC wanted to brag, to walk up to Qiu and show them the drawing as a triumphant declaration that their terrible, horrible art block was finally over. But as soon as Qiu’s gaze found theirs, those soft eyes blinking slowly, like a cat, and that small, smug smile appearing on their lips, far too pleased with having caught MC staring, MC knew they couldn’t give Qiu any more reason to tease them.

It’s bound to be just a one-time thing, anyway.

…

It wasn’t a one-time thing.

Drawing Qiu became muscle memory, in the same way that drawing hearts or five-point stars, the kind with lines in the middle, became after an eternity of doodling them on the edges of notebooks.

There was just something easy about it. 

MC knew their neighbour so well that they didn’t even need a reference to capture the nuances of Qiu’s smile—the way the right side of their lips lifted just a touch higher than the left, the arch of their brows, or the slight widening of their eyes when surprised. It was effortless.

It becomes a warm-up exercise before the artist’s other drawings and a quick way to break the slump off art blocks, or even something mindless MC does in the middle of a particularly dull classes both share— they do suspect Qiu knew about those but never bothered them with requests to see the drawings, leaving MC to their quiet obsession.

What was embarrassing was how often they’d find themselves obsessing over the perfect way to angle their wrists to capture the sharp swoop of Qiu’s dark bangs to imply just the right amount of movement, or the fact that they filled so many pages of their sketchbook with studies of Qiu during ballet class that they had to replace it with a fresh one.

Their anatomy skills had improved dramatically in the meantime. But was it worth it, trading artistic growth for Qiu’s obvious disappointment when MC stopped letting them flip through their sketchbook? Or having to learn to draw things quickly and discreetly?

“You dropped a page.” MC says, flatly. Qiu is rummaging though their gym bag in search of their  earphones, notepad hanging precariously in their coat pocket. “Again.”

By this point, Qiu had long given up on retrieving whatever papers they lost, but MC still informed them out of habit anyway. Despite their disinterest, Qiu’s eyes scanned the floor—until they paused, bending down to pick the page up. 

The action immediately catches MC’s attention. It would usually take a lot of insistence for Qiu to bother, if they did at all.

"Started caring about the environment again?" 

MC teased. Qiu just snickered, unfolding the page with a widening smile. A smile that grew into something MC could only describe as pure, unbridled glee. That’s when MC noticed the paper wasn’t the usual color, weight, or size. It was larger, thinner, and undeniably from MC’s sketchbook.

“I was wondering when you’d let me see these drawings,” Qiu said, turning the page to reveal one of MC’s most recent sketches—a detailed study of Qiu, brows furrowed in concentration as they scribbled in their notepad, done only a few hours ago, just before lunchtime. There were also smaller drawings on the margins done in a more simplified style, all of Qiu. "When did I become your muse?”

MC’s breath caught in their throat as Qiu held up the sketch, a wave of embarrassment hitting them so hard they felt they could drown in it. Their little habit was a badly-kept secret, but it doesn’t mean that MC was looking forward to being found out.

Regardless, the question hung in the air, and MC knew that there was no universe in which Qiu would let it go without satisfying answers

Each second MC passed without answering only made Qiu’s grin grow further, their warm brown eyes flickering between the sketch and the artist responsible for creating it, a glint of mischief dancing in them.

“You know,” they continued, voice light and playful, “if you wanted me to model for you, all you had to do was ask.”

“No! I wasn’t— It’s not like that!” 

MC could feel the heat crawling up the back of their neck as they stammard, mind racing as they frantically searched for an excuse that would be any less mortifying than the truth.

Qiu’s smile softened, feeling bad for their friend’s embarrassment, even if they were having fun with their flustered reaction. Despite how much their personality had changed throughout the years, that was a small aspect Qiu would never be able to grow out of— despite their incessant teasing, they deeply cared for their neighbour, and didn’t like taking things too far for the sake of their comfort.

“Is that so?” they asked, the teasing edge in their voice giving way to something a little softer. "Because it seems like you’ve been drawing me a lot."

MC felt the weight of their own silence, the silent, embarrassing admission that came with it. 

Drawing Qiu had become a part of their routine. A habit, an easy way to keep up with their goal of drawing every day.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” MC finally said, pushing through their mortification to grant Qiu their answer. They glanced down at their hands, fingers still smudged with graphite, as if the evidence of their fixation was written all over them, taunting them. “I just… you were easy to draw. You’re always around, and I—” They paused. I can’t stop thinking about you. The words linger, right on the tip of their tongue. “I guess it just… happened.”

The playful gleam in Qiu’s eyes is replaced by something tender, a warmth they knew all too well.

“You know,” Qiu said slowly, carefully, as if trying not to spook them “I don’t mind being your muse.”

MC blinked, caught off guard by Qiu’s sincerity. They looked up, meeting Qiu’s gaze fully, and for the first time in a long time, there was no playfulness or carefully feigned disinterest in their eyes. Just warmth.

“You don’t—” MC began, stammering, struggling to find the right words, “you don’t think it’s… weird?”

“Why would it be weird? You’re an artist. Artists need inspiration, right?” Qiu glanced down at the sketch again, running a finger gently over the paper, careful not to smudge it. “And I’m honored. I don’t think I’ve ever been someone’s inspiration before. Much less to my favorite artist”

Somehow, MC doubts that. Judging by Qiu’s popularity in town, having been the crush of at least half of Golden Grove’s kids within their age group, they have absolutely zero doubts that Qiu has been the source of many ‘a angsty poem scribbled in someone’s diary.

Regardless, they felt their chest tighten at Qiu’s words, eyes widening as their mind replays the dancer’s words, over and over. They were Qiu’s favorite artist? Qiu didn’t mind being drawn?

That fills them with much needed relief, the tension from their body slowly dissipating.

“I’m not sure how much of an inspiration you really are,” 

MC muttered, trying to deflect some of the intensity of the moment with humor, but the warmth in their voice betrayed them.

“Oh, come on. I’ve clearly been *very* inspirational.” Qiu gestured at the sketch in their hand, then raised a brow. “How many of these are there, anyway? Ten?”

“…More.”

“More? Seriously?”

MC couldn’t help but smile now, the absurdity of it all catching up with them as they shake their head, disappointed at themselves.

“Uh, like, a lot of my last sketchbook? It’s just… you’re always around, and you’ve got this…” They gestured vaguely at Qiu, trying to find the right words. “This vibe. You’re fun to draw.”

Qiu raised an eyebrow, leaning in, invading their personal space enough that they could smell the subtle scent of cinnamon from their shampoo, voice dropping to a playful murmur. 

“Easy, huh? So you *have* been staring at me a lot.”

MC rolled their eyes, shoving Qiu lightly, but there was no malice in it. It’s true, as much as they hated to admit it, they had observed the dancer so much as to be able to draw them from memory.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” 

But Qiu just smiled, softer again. 

“I’m flattered,” they said, their voice gentle. “Really.”

MC didn’t know what to say to that. There was a lump in their throat, an unspoken understanding passing between them that felt both overwhelming and comforting. They had known each other for years by that point, after all, but In that moment, something shifted. The awkwardness, the teasing, even the embarrassment—it all melted away like snow in spring time, leaving behind only the quiet connection between them. Their unbreakable bond. It was comfortable in the way few things are.

Qiu handed the sketch back to MC, their fingers brushing for just a second felt almost electrifying. Has it always felt like this?

“Keep drawing me,” they said, voice quiet but resolute. “If it helps you, keep doing it. No need to hide it.”

When their eyes meet again, and they can sense Qiu’s sincerity, their heart races once more. They accept the drawing, storing it safely inside their sketchbook before they continue on their way home.

Maybe they didn’t have the words for everything they felt just yet, but right now, this moment was enough.

[tiramissyoucake]

Love your stuff!!! I never realized how much creep potential Mark had until I read your blog

Can you give us a profile on Viltrumite Mark (no mustache)?? How do interpret his character and creepiness in regard to the reader??

Thank you! :)

Aaa thank you!!✨️🩷 I think Viltrumite Mark is my most popular work here lol I have to keep a few things in mind when writing him (note that this is my interpretation and you're free to your own interpretation!).

I dont know how to format profiles so here are said aspects:

A disdain for humanity: or anything that isn't Viltrumite. We know they have unnatural strength and are basically conquerers, so I give him an impatient attitude with anyone who isn't the reader, dismissive to anyone he deems weak. He views human courting as too submissive, unlike what he's taught as a Viltrumite. Note that even if he sees humans as weak, he doesn't resist learning to blend in as long as it's for his own benefit somehlw

A fascination with reader: Viltrumite Mark's reader reminds themselves constantly that he's an alien from far away, so he doesn't understand a lot of mannerism on earth (including their kindness). He sees them as weaker but not *below him* if that makes sense, like something he's responsible for

A sense of entitlement: my takeaway is that Viltrum believes the strongest decide how the world works, so Viltrumite Mark expects no resistance when he wants something or when something needs to be done, something that ties into his barbaric power is he expresses no distress at any attempt of a fight against him. (It's a different story if someone tried to outsmart him)

Subtle but inflated ego: this applies to a lot of the variants, speed, flight, superstrength; anyone would be on top of the world if they were literally Invincible. Though a "noble" trait is humility, I think he would have a hard time being humble, he'd do well but an ego that tells you he knows he's strong and could kill easily would slip through.

Confusing submission for assertion: At times where he doesn't hold himself back from reader or indulges in affection, he thinks he's only enacting what he was taught; take what you want from your mate and they submit. I try to incorporate an underlying desperation he never acknowledges, a submission that any Invincible variant carries in one way or another.

All in all, I see him as a princely alien who's never been told "no" but is smart enough to loop around a "no" and trap you into a "yes" if that makes sense!

[meadowfics]

Kang Family Series:

What is Reader's background coming to Korea, if Reader is Non-Korean? Does Reader know Korean? Does seoah and later byeol speak both Korean and Reader's native language?

could've answered these as normal responses but I feel like a story format is more digest-able :D

obviously, growing up in korea as a foreigner was never easy.

you remember stepping off the plane when you were six years old, your mother gripping your wrist so tightly that it hurt, your older sister walking a few paces ahead as if she already belonged.

you didn’t understand why you had to leave home, why your father wasn’t coming with you, why your mother always looked so angry.

(more explanation on that^ coming out soon)

you spoke your native language fluently, and your mother had taught you english (if english was not your first language) before the move, thinking it would help you in a country where you didn’t belong.

the thing with korean is that learning hangeul was the hardest thing you've ever learned.

your first few years in school were filled with silence.

you were the odd one out, the girl who couldn’t keep up in class, and the girl who struggled to make friends.

by the time you reached high school, you had finally mastered the language. fluency didn’t come easily, but it came through late nights studying, through the exhaustion of trying to keep up, through sheer determination to survive in a place that had never made room for you.

even as you blended in, even as you spoke korean effortlessly, you never truly felt like you belonged.

your mother never let you forget that.

now, you barely speak your native language at all.

korean has become your world.

it's the language you use every day, the one you think in, dream in, love in.

you only ever switch back when speaking to another foreigner in public, someone who, like you, still carries the remnants of a home left behind.

seo-ah, though, seo-ah knows both english and korean.

the importance of raising a bilingual child was important to you, even if it sometimes felt strange teaching her words in a language that you had nearly lost.

she flips between the two with ease, talking to you in one and then the other, sometimes mixing them together in that funny way kids do.

"엄마, look at this!"

she'd say, holding up her latest drawing, her words jumping between both languages effortlessly.

"wow, baby, that’s amazing,"

you'd tell her, watching as she grinned, proud of herself.

soon, byeol will learn, too.

she’s still too little, too young to form any words at all but you already know that you’ll raise her the same way.

you’ll speak to her in both languages, just as you do with seo-ah, just as you wish someone had done for you when you were little and lost in a foreign country that had never truly felt like home.

if you're worried, then do not. dae-ho never cared that you weren’t korean.

he never made you feel different, never treated you as anything less than his person.

he listens when you tell him about the things you grew up with, about the foods you loved as a child, about the pieces of your home country that you still hold onto even after all these years... even if you were only six when you left your home.

he’s interested in them, in you.

(if you're korean, you can skip this, it won't impact future chapters I promise. this is for most readers to know that they do not need to be korean to read these fics!)

kang family series linked here

[makereadgrow]

The Why of Sewing 2: Fabric Anatomy (knits)

This post is in a series I am starting that is going to talk about concepts in sewing and fiber arts and try and explain some of the whys behind the hows.

The first thing anyone should learn about sewing is the basic building block of what fabric IS. There are two basic categories for fabric: Woven and Knit. Today I am writing about knit fabric.

Knit fabric is made up of rows of interconnected thread loops. Some knitting machines work back and forth to make a flat fabric, but it is more common for knit fabric to be made in a big tube which is then cut open and the edges sealed. This is the selvedge edge for your knit fabric, but beware! Sometimes when the edge is cut they do not follow the grain correctly.

There is a lot of variety in how the loops can look, but the most basic pattern in knitting is stockinette stitch where the right side of the fabric looks like little v shapes stacked on each other, and the reverse looks like little bumps. This is true in both hand knitting, and the manufacture of knitted cloth. Most fabric used in tshirts and sweatshirts are stockinette. Tshirt fabric is known as jersey.

Below you can see the Right and Wrong Side of a hand knit sweater

Here is a 8x photo of a cotton lycra blend tshirt jersey - it has the same vertical rows of Vs as the handknit sweater.

All knits are at least a little bit stretchy. The loops of fabric just have a lot more movement than the 90 degree angles of woven fabric. Some knit fabric is VERY stretchy, and some is just a little. Fiber content makes a big difference, but I think tackling that is a whole other post.

Knit fabric can be tricky to cut and sew because of that stretch.

The grain of knit fabric is also important to be able to determine. In addition to grain is the DOGS (Direction of Greatest Stretch) this is usually on the cross grain, or perpendicular from the columns of V shaped stitches you see close up. Generally knit fabric is used with the DOGS going around the body. It is especially important for things like neckbands to be cut on the DOGS, as they function like bias on a woven fabric.

below from Left to right I am stretching cotton lycra jersey on grain, on the cross grain (I don't have big enough hands to stretch it to its full ability), and on the bias.

When you cut knit fabric a rotary cutter, mat and pattern weights will help keep the fabric stable and cuts precise, unlike shears and pins. Pins can also cause runs in knit fabrics (like pantyhose). The cut edges of most knits do not fray, which is a big advantage to this type of fabric. This is not true of big chunky sweater knits and handknits. However knits do roll on the edges and the more you handle them, the more they will roll. It will usually roll on both selvedge and the cut edge, but in opposite directions. Generally the best way to handle this is to not be rough with your fabric and when cutting weight down your edges or even tape them down to the cutting mat with masking tape.

Knits also need special sewing machine needles. There are two main types of needles used on knits a ball point needle and a stretch needle. In general a stretch needle is used on fabrics like spandex which are VERY stretchy and difficult to pierce. Most knits do okay with either type, but if you are ever trying to sew a knit and getting lots of skipped stitches or loops on the back try a different needle. Sometimes a microtex needle is used on very fine knits as well.

What is happening to the fabric to make those skipped stitches and thread nests so ubiquitous to beginners trying to work with knit fabrics? The fabric is not being correctly pierced by the needle. Instead of the needle passing through the fabric stretches and travels down into the machine, even a tiny bit of this can disrupt stitch formation.

This image of thread nesting is on a woven fabric, but it will look the same on a knit as well. Citation Link

if you are pretty sure you have the correct needle but you are still getting lots of thread nests, especially at the beginning of the seam, put a bit of tissue paper under the fabric.

Sewing with knits also means considering the stitch you use. A straight stitch seam will break when the fabric stretches because the thread does not stretch. On a regular machine you need to use a narrow zigzag, lightning stitch or a three step zigzag for constructing the seams. For hemming you can use the stitches above, or use a twin needle or the triple stitch on your machine. These stitches vary in how stretchy they are so I recommend trying some out. I almost always choose a narrow zigzag for construction and a three step zigzag for my topstitching.

The other barrier many sewists find when sewing with knit fabric is that on an everyday machine the fabric tends to stretch under the foot. There are a few ways to avoid that. 1. Careful handling - this is never going to be the only solution but rough handling you knits will distort them no matter what else you do. 2. Reduce your foot pressure. Not all sewing machines have this ability, check your manual. 3. Use a walking foot - this foot essentially is like having feed dogs on top and on the bottom of the fabric so it moves smoothly through the machine. It is a very useful thing to have. Beware of off brand walking feet, they might be fine, but a bad walking foot can damage your machine. 4. Use a water soluble double sided tape to stabilize the seam before sewing. This is my least favorite solution, but a tool in the arsenal none the less.

There is a lot to talk about when we talk about knits, but I also don't want this to be a million miles long. Your key takeways from today are the following: How to find the grain and DOGS on knit fabrics, choosing the right needle and stitch for your fabric, and how to handle the fabric under the machine to prevent stretching.

[reyaint]

the classes | mandatory

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date: march 23, 2025. 3:01 am. (starting). i fell asleep. lmao. 10:30

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✧˖*°࿐ The Mandatory Classes

𓂃༊veltrius Lumos Academy's mandatory curriculum blends rigorous academics with cultural and artistic exploration. these courses ensure students develop critical thinking, research skills, creativity, and problem-solving abilities, preparing them for higher education and global careers.

✧˖*°࿐ Language Studies

𓂃༊students are required to take Haiqinian, Greek, and English throughout their academic journey.

*ೃ༄Haiqinian Language and Composition (3 years, Pre-AP & AP Available)

𓂃༊ Year 1 (Pre-AP or Regular Haiqinian Language & Composition I):

✧ 𓂃 › grammar & sentence structure: verb conjugations, syntax, and advanced sentence formation.

✧ 𓂃 › composition: essay writing, formal letters, and literary analysis.

✧ 𓂃 › literary study: introduction to Haiqinian classical and modern literature.

𓂃༊ Year 2 (AP or Regular Haiqinian Language & Composition II):

✧ 𓂃 › advanced grammar & writing: rhetorical devices, argumentation, and structured compositions.

✧ 𓂃 › comparative literature: study of Haiqinian texts alongside global literature.

✧ 𓂃 › research & analysis: writing research papers and learning source evaluation.

𓂃༊ Year 3 (AP or Regular Haiqinian Literature & Composition III):

✧ 𓂃 › critical literary analysis: deep dive into Haiqinian poetry, novels, and plays.

✧ 𓂃 › creative writing & public speaking: writing short stories, poetry, and persuasive speeches.

✧ 𓂃 › capstone research paper: a long-form thesis-style paper analyzing a Haiqinian literary work.

*ೃ༄Greek Language & Literature (3 years, required for all students)

𓂃༊ Year 1 (Greek I – Basic Grammar & Conversation):

✧ 𓂃 › introduction to the greek alphabet & pronunciation.

✧ 𓂃 › basic sentence structure: verb forms, nouns, and adjectives.

✧ 𓂃 › conversational skills: daily interactions, greetings, and essential expressions.

𓂃༊ Year 2 (Greek II – Intermediate Grammar, Translation & History):

✧ 𓂃 › complex sentence structures: subjunctive, conditional, and imperative verb forms.

✧ 𓂃 › translation practice: excerpts from Homer, Aesop, and historical texts.

✧ 𓂃 › greek culture & history: myths, political systems, and philosophy.

𓂃༊ Year 3 (Greek III – Advanced Reading, Writing & Translation):

✧ 𓂃 › advanced text analysis: works of Plato, Sophocles, and Aristophanes.

✧ 𓂃 › academic writing & discussion: essays on Greek mythology, ethics, and politics.

✧ 𓂃 › capstone project: a final presentation translating and analyzing a classical Greek work.

*ೃ༄English Language & Composition (2 years, English III is an elective)

𓂃༊ Year 1 (English I – General English Skills, Literature & Creative Writing):

✧ 𓂃 › grammar & vocabulary: structure, syntax, and advanced composition skills.

✧ 𓂃 › literature study: analysis of classic and modern English literature.

✧ 𓂃 › creative writing: poetry, short stories, and personal narratives.

𓂃༊ Year 2 (English II – Critical Thinking & Analytical Writing):

✧ 𓂃 › advanced literature study: British and American literature from different eras.

✧ 𓂃 › essay writing & rhetoric: persuasive essays, literary analysis, and argument development.

✧ 𓂃 › public speaking: presentations, debates, and discussions on literary themes.

𓂃༊ Year 3 (English III – Elective, Optional for Advanced Study):

✧ 𓂃 › world literature focus: exploring literature from South America, Asia, and Europe.

✧ 𓂃 › research & thesis writing: students write and defend a long-form literary thesis.

✧ 𓂃 › experimental writing styles: creative non-fiction, stream-of-consciousness, and hybrid prose.

✧˖*°࿐ Mathematics (3 years, AP Available)

*ೃ༄Core Math Progression:

𓂃༊ Year 1 (Algebra I w/ Probability – Pre-AP or Regular):

✧ 𓂃 › linear & quadratic equations: graphing, inequalities, and polynomials.

✧ 𓂃 › probability & statistics: basic probability theory, combinatorics, and statistics.

✧ 𓂃 › real-world applications: business forecasting, data analysis, and logical reasoning.

𓂃༊ Year 2 (Algebra II w/ Statistics + Precalculus – AP or Regular):

✧ 𓂃 › advanced algebra concepts: exponential/logarithmic functions, matrices, and conic sections.

✧ 𓂃 › statistics & data science: regression analysis, probability distributions, and data visualization.

✧ 𓂃 › pre-calculus introduction: trigonometric functions, sequences, and limits.

𓂃༊ Year 3 (AP Calculus + Finance or Regular Finance):

✧ 𓂃 › differential & integral calculus: derivatives, integrals, and applications in physics/economics.

✧ 𓂃 › financial mathematics: investments, banking, risk analysis, and economic modeling.

✧ 𓂃 › capstone project: using calculus and finance principles to analyze a real-world financial trend.

✧˖*°࿐ History & Social Sciences (3 years, AP Available)

*ೃ༄Year 1 (AP or Regular Haiqin History):

𓂃༊ linear & quadratic equations: graphing, inequalities, and polynomials.

𓂃༊ probability & statistics: basic probability theory, combinatorics, and statistics.

𓂃༊ real-world applications: business forecasting, data analysis, and logical reasoning.

*ೃ༄Year 2 (AP or Regular World History):

𓂃༊ advanced algebra concepts: exponential/logarithmic functions, matrices, and conic sections.

𓂃༊ statistics & data science: regression analysis, probability distributions, and data visualization.

𓂃༊ pre-calculus introduction: trigonometric functions, sequences, and limits.

*ೃ༄Year 3 (AP or Regular Government & Economics):

𓂃༊ differential & integral calculus: derivatives, integrals, and applications in physics/economics.

𓂃༊ financial mathematics: investments, banking, risk analysis, and economic modeling.

𓂃༊ capstone project: using calculus and finance principles to analyze a real-world financial trend.

✧˖*°࿐ Science Studies (3 years, AP Available for Some Courses)

*ೃ༄Year 1 (AP or Regular Chemistry):

𓂃༊ atomic theory & molecular structure: periodic trends and chemical bonding.

𓂃༊ thermodynamics & reaction kinetics: understanding physical and chemical reactions.

𓂃༊ lab work: hands-on chemical experiments, titration, and organic synthesis.

*ೃ༄Year 2 & 3 (Choice of Science, Must Take at Least One More):

𓂃༊ environmental science: climate change, ecosystems, and sustainable development.

𓂃༊ forensics: DNA analysis, fingerprinting, toxicology, and forensic anthropology.

𓂃༊ anatomy & physiology: human body systems, genetics, and medical applications.

𓂃༊ physics: classical mechanics, electromagnetism, and astrophysics.

𓂃༊ marine biology: ocean ecosystems, marine conservation, and field research.

✧˖*°࿐ Specialized & Cultural Studies

*ೃ༄AP or Regular Myths & Legends:

𓂃༊ greek & roman mythology: The Iliad, The Odyssey, Aeneid.

𓂃༊ comparative mythology: Norse, Celtic, Japanese, and Mesopotamian myths.

𓂃༊ symbolism & influence: how mythology influences modern media and storytelling.

*ೃ༄Astrology I (AP or Regular):

𓂃༊ foundations of astrology: birth charts, planetary movements, zodiac signs.

𓂃༊ cultural perspectives: astrology in Greek, Chinese, and Vedic traditions.

𓂃༊ scientific & spiritual debate: skepticism vs. belief, practical applications.

[elvgreen]

tips for 4t3 converters/CAS clothing creators

3 main things:

non-recolorable presets

DDS. settings

Adult to Teen conversions

disclaimer: i'm not a CC expert, but these are things i've noticed and learned these last couple months converting cc. special thanks to thornowl and the other converters in the TS3 Creators Cave discord.

Non-recolorable presets:

we obviously know that ts4 lacks a CASt tool, so ts4 creators rely on recolors. In my conversions, I do include a couple of the item's recolors. these usually are patterns that CASt does not have.

one thing I've noticed more and more converters doing is putting such item recolors in the 'Overlay' tab in TSRW.

let me show you what that looks like for a non-recolorable preset:

it looks over-saturated, and almost crunchy. but there's another place you can import the recolor into: stencils.

stencils will be found at the bottom, under patterns. hit the plus sign next to stencils to open it.

opening it will show you this:

by default, it will be enabled as false. import your recolor into the texture tab as you would do for any other texture tab. make sure you tick the 'false' to 'true.' stencils override overlays, so if you want to use an overlay, enable stencils back to 'false.'

here's what the recolor imported into stencils looks like:

here's the two side by side:

see how different they are? let's see how they are in game:

click on the pictures to really see the difference in quality. since TS3 uses DDS. format, it compresses the texture, which results in the crunchy texture. importing the recolor into the overlay tab makes the DDS. compression more noticeable. it ultimately is up to you and whichever one you prefer, but do keep it in mind.

the overlay tab is good for small details that you want to maintain on all recolorable presets, like zippers, buttons, tags, etc. just look at EA clothes for reference, especially their shoes and male clothes.

another thing you can see from the images are the bumps on the mesh. doing normal maps can help you keep those same details on the recolorable presets without importing the recolors.

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

DDS. settings:

something I also see and used to do myself is bloat package files with large file sizes, specifically normal and specular maps, as well as masks. the Sims 3 Tutorial Hub provides a link to plain maps, but the file sizes are unnecessarily big.

let's look at some of EA's maps in TSRW:

here's the specular from one of the basegame sweaters. notice the image size, DXT format, and compression size.

a lot of converters don't want the shine on regular clothes, so we use a plain, black specular map. but ask yourself, why do you need a 1024 x 1024 purely black specular map with no details?

let's try sizing it down:

notice the difference between the image and compression size. instead of bloating the package file, we can keep it down by using a 32x32 plain black specular map instead, since there aren't details we want from the specular map.

same goes for normal maps:

and masks (meant for 1 channel only):

now, notice how I underlined the info about DXT MipMaps. see how the normal map has a different number there compared to the specular map and mask.

the reason these textures use different DXT is because of the colors and alpha channel.

here's how my DDS. settings appear when saving:

DXT1 (no alpha): this keeps only the 3 color channels and has the strongest compression. it results in half the file size as DXT3/5. 3 channel masks should be saved with this, as they don't need an alpha channel.

DXT1 (1 bit alpha): this includes an alpha, but only black or white. it also results in half the file size as DXT3/5.

DXT3: this one is rarely used for TS3 textures. it really is only used for overlays. it compresses the same as DXT5, but may not be the best for images with smooth-blended alpha regions (Neely).

DXT5: multipliers and normal (bump) maps should only EVER be saved with this. it's best for colors but has a larger file size. this is why it's important to reduce the multiplier and normal map image size, especially if you don't make a normal map.

if you DO decide to do a specular and normal map, they should be regular image size, 1024x1024, and saved in the right format.

here is more information on which textures should use which compression.

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

Adult to Teen Conversions:

the default for converters is obviously AF and AM. a lot of people want the items for teens too. I've seen several converters just enable it in TSRW:

please don't do this. it's honestly the lazy route. you can hardly ever get away this, specifically because of the body differences between adult and teen.

some major issues with this include gaps, seams, and unnatural body characteristics:

so please, either skip the teen mesh entirely or spend the time reshaping the mesh. @/sweetdevil-sims has a great tutorial on converting meshes from AF to TF here. the inevitable seams on TF meshes are also now fixed, thanks to @/thornowl with their new version of mesh toolkit.

@pis3update

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

here are reduced file sizes and corrected settings of the plain mask, specular, and normal:

download

Sources:

Neely, G. ‘Buckaroo’. Working with DDS/DXT Files. Available at: https://www.buckarooshangar.com/flightgear/tut_dds.html (Accessed: 28 May 2024).

[mamayan]

Dear Yanny,

I am desperately humbly requesting a yandere Giyuu being yandere, very very yandere, with a relatively willing darling AFAB/fem reader and a side dish of bedroom spice.

I am in tears.

Sincerely, Desi <3

Let’s do a yandere profile then for Giyuu! I’ve been wanting to try out this format for a minute now.

☆Giyuu Tomioka★

YANDERE PROFILE || OPEN TEMPLATE!

cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied kidnapping/imprisonment • Yandere • AFAB! Darling

Type

Overprotective!

This yandere type is obsessive and possessive of their darling, but they believe that their actions are justified in the name of protecting their darling. This yandere type may infantilize or cross boundaries their darling lays down. They intentionally or unintentionally take away their darling’s independence.

Giyuu is constantly in a state of worry for you, he’s thinking of you at nearly every second of the day and when you don’t consume his every waking moment, you appear in his dreams. Did you sleep well? Have you eaten? Did you eat enough? Have you gotten sick? Was someone rude to you? What if you’re hurt?

This type of obsession leads to tailing/stalking/monitoring. He watches you at any and every moment he can, and when he can’t then someone he trusts is. Giyuu learns all your habits, likes and dislikes, fears and dreams, and will insert himself into your life. He doesn’t need to be loud or boisterous, in fact his calm demeanor and presence allow him to seamlessly blend into your world without raising any alarms.

This leads to possessiveness forming. His attachment deepens over time and a sort of ownership forms. It stems from his detailed knowledge of you and even your private life which you’ve never shared with him personally. He sees himself as someone who knows you completely, thus making him the most important character in your life.

He doesn’t understand why you’d spend time with anyone else but him. Those “friends” don’t know you hate that food, but they ignore your indirect ways of steering away from eating it. He knows you dislike it, and he’s happy to eat your favorite food with you, even if he doesn’t love it personally. He’s unafraid of stealing you away too, pretending nonchalantly to have been just passing through with a bag full of your most adored goodies, inviting you away from whatever situation you find yourself uncomfortable in.

Giyuu is a gentleman, even in his most unhinged state of watching you sleep at night in your home you were sure you locked up tightly before bed. He’s not going to be mean or hurtful, his yandere tendencies stem from lack of control in life and deep loss.

Breaking Point

Once “danger” threatens their darling.

Giyuu’s instability would worsen over time, not immediately. It would coincide with his feelings for you. The more he falls in love, the more he begins to stress about that love being taken away in some tragic accident. He’s lost his best friend and sister, how can he lose you too? He’s always being protected by those he cared about, shouldn’t he be the one to protect you then?

Giyuu would ponder and even be consumed by guilt once he realized how powerless he truly is to keep you completely safe. You had a life to live, how could he be so selfish as to tie you to him by a short chain and never let you go?

He won’t take action until a threat is posed… even if that threat is only within his own mind.

It could be a demon nearly harming you, a person that is mean towards you, or even you being clumsy and hurting yourself which could set this trigger off. The longer he waits, the more the line of danger becomes skewed. In the end, he’s giving in to his own paranoia. There’s no way to truly escape this break.

Lucidity

7

Giyuu is actually fairly aware of how wrong his feelings for you have become. What was once innocent and pure has become warped and twisted into something entirely off. He shouldn’t think of you 24/7 nor should he be keeping such a detailed account of your life. It’s completely wrong of him, illegal, invasive towards you, and he feels immense guilt for it.

At first.

At first, he’s consumed with anger and disgust towards himself. He’s one hundred percent lucid at this point and fighting back against his urges and desires. He loves you, how can he be thinking and doing these things?

As time goes on however, his fight with himself becomes a losing battle. He wants you, needs you, has to keep you close. It’s more than he can take really, and in the end, isn’t he pitiful? Won’t you stop struggling? He adores you, he truly only desires your happiness and safety…

In his arms, of course.

Perception of Darling

Complete adoration!

Giyuu is not the sort of man to worship his darling in a religious sense, because humans are flawed and he wouldn’t truly love you if he ignored your flaws right? He loves those too, so Giyuu falls under the category of adoration.

With complete adoration is how Giyuu views you, his beloved darling.

He struggles not to constantly pamper and even mildly infantilize you, though he doesn’t view you as incapable. It’s the opposite in fact, shouldn’t someone as capable and smart as you be spoiled more? He thinks so at least. He wants to take away all your worries and struggles, all of them, because he wants to keep you safe from more than just outside threats.

He wants to protect you from the ones inside too. He knows what depression and anxiety feel like, how they can destroy you from the inside out, and he doesn’t want you suffering from the same thing.

These feelings are pure but his actions can reflect something different.

In his quest to rid you of all troubles, he can unintentionally make himself a trouble, one which he can sadly not rid you of. His simple solutions may even complicate things, like telling you to quit your job and rely on him financially when you complain of a co-worker. He struggles to listen at times, in his desperation to keep you happy at all points in time, and this can be frustrating.

Whether you are screaming at him in rage, crying in fear, or trembling with anxiety… he still thinks there’s no one more adorable and lovely than you. It’s difficult for him to feel anything but love and patience for you, even if he’s the cause of your outbursts.

It’s not that he believes you can do no wrong, it’s just that he could simply care less. As long as you don’t harm yourself, or try harming him (though he understands that much more), then there’s really not much that would cause his perception to waver.

Love Language

Words of affirmation

Giyuu enjoys words of affirmation the most from you. He enjoys all other love languages too, but in a way he somewhat forces quality time (stalking or kidnapping), acts of service (you breathing), receiving gifts (your presence). Physical touch would be a close second, but Giyuu can actually go without it should you not like it.

It’s your words though he cannot receive without you willingly giving it to him.

What he wouldn’t pay or do to hear you tell him “I love you” or “I forgive you” because he does feel guilty taking you. The guilt just doesn’t outweigh his overprotective instincts which drove him to take you in the first place.

Tell him he’s wonderful, compliment his hair or eyes, or tell him you’re grateful for his presence in your life. All will make him melt, his heart softening into silken tofu by your sweet words.

He also loves your voice, so you speaking at all makes his heart flutter. When you decide to utter kind words with that voice?

He’s gone.

Ability/Danger Level

10

Giyuu is as dangerous as he is pretty. Not to you of course, but to any and all who may or may not pose a threat to you. This includes family and friends too. He’s not above harming or even killing for the sake of protecting you, though he’d never reveal his actions out of his own volition.

He likely will get blood on his hands, especially since it becomes easier to take people out without you noticing once he’s kidnapped you. How can he allow someone who has harmed you to continue living and breathing? Even if the damage was only psychological, he views it as a trespass against his own and it will be met with violence or some similar horror.

He really doesn’t feel any guilt either, though he does have a strong moral code, especially for children. But that weird man who tried sexually harassing you?

The world can go without that sort of scum.

Punishment

Light/Non-scarring

Giyuu is likely one of the most patient yanderes out there, but he’s not without some temper. The quickest way to find yourself over his lap with your ass in the air is to try escaping or harming yourself.

His punishments, even when he’s in the worst of moods, will never be anything terrible. The worst you can expect is isolation.

This will seem fine at first, even enjoyable if you truly wish to get away from him, but over time it will wear you down to a sort of fragility you wouldn’t expect. It’s horrible being alone, maddening to a point you may break down and beg. He’s not able to bear hearing it, so he’d either lift the punishment as you having learnt your lesson or hide away.

A lesser punishment he might use is spanking or privilege revoking. He might ban you from the garden or walks you enjoy or put you over his knee and make your poor bum burn for a little. He’d never hit you anywhere else though, and of course, never use anywhere near his full strength in spanking you. It’s honestly little taps to him, but you might disagree when it hurts to sit later.

Giyuu may even be inclined to deny you sexually/or an orgasm if you are sexually intimate.

Reward

Constantly

How can he not? He wants to spoil you rotten, so much you can’t even fathom living without him and all he provides.

Giyuu absolutely rewards you with freedoms as his darling too, and you’ll learn to truly appreciate them as time goes on in captivity. The more accepting and loving you are towards him, the more freely he takes you out and allows you to do things. He doesn’t think you incapable as a human, which means he doesn’t mind TV, books, or entertainment as long as you aren’t using them to escape.

He’s not stupid and proves rather difficult to manipulate. He may let you play your game to let his guard down, but know once you make a move he’s showing you how futile the act is.

He’s happy to spend money on you though, whatever you like too. He’s a simple man and doesn’t really spend much on himself besides the basics and necessity, so he’s actually happy he gets to use his money for something besides collecting interest. Let him decorate you, or get all the fancy tools for your hobby you’ve always wanted. It’s not hard to get him to “reward” you. In fact, it’s harder to make him stop.

Style

Kidnap!

Try as he might to resist it, he wants nothing more to chain you to his side. That’s not possible though, he’s got obligations to attend to, but he can lock you in a gilded cage.

Treatment

A delicate flower~♡

He’s actually a bit hard to read when you first meet him, but he melts like ice on a hot summer day in your presence. Others may complain about his personality, or lack thereof, but you wonder if they’re talking about the same Giyuu that you know.

He never shuts up? He’s always bringing you fresh bouquets, sweets and snacks, any and all items that catch his eye which he thinks you’ll like. He’s detailed and incredibly considerate, and this doesn’t change when you’re taken captive either.

Though he won’t allow you to leave him, he can still give you… space. Your own room if you request it, a little garden, your space, as long as it doesn’t involve straying too far from him.

He’s not controlling in a sense of depriving you of basic human abilities, like cooking or using tools. He knows you are capable of taking care of yourself, and he’s careful not to make you feel otherwise.

He really tries. It’s not always perfect though. When you’re cooperative and willing, he has an easier time letting go of the reigns, but when you aren’t? He’ll lock doors and drawers like one might with a small toddler, his mistrust will show through his actions.

Intimacy

Sexually attracted~

Giyuu’s feelings for you are pure in a sense, but he’s a man with wants and desires…that just happen to all be directed at you.

He craves to hold and caress you, and he’s a bit embarrassed to admit he’s done so while you’ve slept. Your defenseless sleeping expression invokes both envy and adoration. He wishes he slept like that and also wishes you’d never sleep any other way. It’s intimate to him, cradling your slumbering form in his arms, pliant and sweet for him to gaze at until the sun rises. His anxiety for you is quenched when he holds you like so, and he enjoys the peace it brings him emotionally.

If you reject his physical affection, Giyuu is surprisingly one of the few yandere types to respect that boundary.

Don’t be mistaken though, he’s not above manipulating your feelings if there is a chance you’re only rejecting him due to the circumstances you’re in. It’s understandable to be frightened in the beginning, he’s not pushy in asking for anything from you that you aren’t willing to give to him.

But he knows he’s an attractive man, and feels nothing walking shirtless before you, or training while you can see. He’s seductive in how he’ll speak to you, lowering his tone and softening it, making you lean in closer to hear him. That’s when you’ll smell him, a clean and masculine scent that will confuse your mind and body because how can someone evil smell so good?

It won’t be hard to succumb to his advances if you’ve been intimate before you’d been taken. He’s detailed, remember? Confident he knows you inside and out, and that includes your weak points. Where to whisper or breathe to make you melt, where to touch to have you gasping, and how to deep he needs to thrust to make you scream. He’s well aware of how much pressure and time he needs to spend between your legs, how to lick your drooling cunt to have you shake and spasm, where to curl his fingers to make you tear at his locks.

No, Giyuu would never force any sort of intimacy on you. He makes it terribly difficult not crave it in fact.

Freedom

Minimal to none—

While in his presence, feel free to ask for walks, dates, or shopping sprees. He’s fine with taking you out so long as you act normally too.

Otherwise expect nothing. No freedom. Your cage may be luxurious and beautiful but you will never leave it, not without his supervision. He won’t budge either, there’s no convincing him something is safe or acceptable. It’s one of the few times you will see him stern and unbending with you, nothing you do will make him cave.

Begging and pleading may even irritate him enough to punish you as well. Why do you want to leave so badly? Is he so terrible to you?

Habits

Sleep watching

Giyuu spends an abnormal amount of time watching you sleep, even at the expense of his own rest. This won’t ever actually affect you, as he never outright tells you he does this, but if you figure it out or wake up unexpectedly to catch him… it may make you nervous to fall asleep.

Sexual Kinks (for non-platonic yandere)

Marking/Praise/Edging&Overstimulation

Giyuu felt these urges mildly before he met you. He’s aware he likes being told how well he’s performing, holding off an orgasm for him or his partner, or making both himself and his partner a mess with overstimulation.

It’s so much worse now though. He can’t help how desperate he becomes with you, how needy and near feral it makes him to just think of filling your pretty pussy up with his cum. It’s sad almost how you turn him into such a pathetic man. He wants to brand himself on you, it wars with his need to never hurt you too, so he settles by sucking bruises into your skin and occasionally biting you. He’s vocal when you’re both intimate, he tells you how much he adores you, what he adores about you (everything), and how good you are for him. His precious pearl, his ocean and entire heart, he’s not the least bit ashamed as he grits his teeth and cries your name as he comes apart. Giyuu loves teasing you and himself too, working you both so close to the edge before stopping, leaving you both whiny and desperate for one another. He needs you to cling to him, to beg for more, to take it too.

His kinks aren’t one sided. He wants you to mark him up, in the way he wishes he could bring himself to do to you. So drag your nails across his skin, make him wear a collar of your bites and kisses around his neck, pull his hair and bruise him. Anyway you show ownership of him is welcomed, though the amount of dominance he’ll accept from you is dependent on your acceptance of your new life with him. He’s less inclined to release the reigns of control when you’re still adapting, cautious and fearful it may be a ruse to trick him and escape. He’ll relax eventually, and even begin to crave the times you tie him up and torment him like he does to you. Deny his poor aching cock again and again, make him beg for you and worship your sweet cunt as you ride his face, and then deny him again just because. He’d even accept if you just stopped there, leaving him painted red and panting, exhausted but not finished. He’d be entirely grateful if you took mercy too, rode his pretty thick cock until he became delirious and keep going even after he’s cum, moving your hips like a goddess on his lap while he pleads for rest and mercy. He can cum multiple times, but it borders on painful after the third, he won’t complain much though if you test his limits.

He’s happy to return the favor, but Giyuu’s favorite way to overstimulate you both is deep hard sex, holding your gaze as he fills you over and over, your pussy oozing his white hot load each time he pulls out to put you in a new position, before he plugs you right back up. Giyuu likes to cum pressed as firmly against your womb as he can, and he likes when you cum around his cock. It feels to most complete to him, and he cherishes the pleasured look on your face.

If it ever becomes too much, a quick way to make him finish is to praise him too. Tell him how good he makes you feel, how beautiful he is, how you like what he’s doing. His hips will always stutter in surprise, blue eyes widening as he gasps and tenses, cock twitching and threatening to spill just from your lovely voice complimenting him.

Boundaries

The front door—

How can he protect you if you run away? He draws a solid line at the doorway. You will not be crossing it without him or else.

Leniency

Strict

Unsurprisingly for an overprotective yandere, Giyuu is incredibly strict.

You’re health and safety are top priority for him, so from when you wake up to when you fall asleep, he’s got all of it tracked.

Your daily needs are monitored like your exact location in his home. He likes having eyes on you at all times. He won’t enforce specific meal plans, but he makes sure you are eating enough, you’re getting enough vitamins and nutrients, and doctor visits are regular. He even knows your menstrual cycle.

You will be asking him for any and all things, he keeps that under tight control. If you want to bake bread or grow a garden, it will all be done through his means.

Overall Rating

89/100

Giyuu Tomioka is an incredibly dangerous yandere!

While he poses minimal threat to you as his darling, he’s a risk to the outside world and your surroundings. He’s sure in his carnage in the name of protecting you, and he’s lucid about it too, which makes him quite threatening.

You’re chance of escape is little to none, and the punishment following it will surely make your teeth ache.

Snippet

“You’re trying to leave?” His tone is soft, no true indication of his mood to those unfamiliar with him.

You were familiar with him though, and his words made your blood run cold. You weren’t trying to leave, you had only wanted fresh air in fact, but the position you were in now made that difficult to believe even to your own eyes. Balanced on the flat surface of the kitchen counter, you were struggling to open the window due to the cold having frozen it outside. Once you had gotten it open, like an animal you’d stuck your head out immediately. It was an instinctive reaction in all honestly, you just wanted the cool air on your skin.

You should’ve gotten him to do it though, he would’ve, you knew, but you’d wanted to do it yourself. To have the little moment all to your own. A foolish goal in the end, as this was where it took you now. He’s not looking at you, just leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed and a cool expression painting his features, head tilted slightly down.

“I’m not!” It’s too quick a denial to absolve you of suspicion, especially as you scramble down with a face appearing impossibly guilty. “I just wanted to open the window,” you explain, but the nervous rise of your voice and the way you look frightened only make his eyes narrow a fraction. He doesn’t believe you. You need him to believe you, because your punishment for escape is always his silence. It’s damning to your senses that crave company and interaction, his patience greater than your own.

“My love, I swear, I really, truly wasn’t,” you stepped closer, heart rate picking up as anxiety tickled your senses. “I would never leave you,” you whisper, coming up to him even as he gazes down at you with eyes pooling with disbelief and suspicion.

He’s unable to resist pulling you into his arms though, wrapping you up close to him and appreciating your softness in his grasp. It helps as you wrap your arms around his neck, press yourself impossibly closer, and whimper in his ear. His grip increases a fraction, a shiver going down his spine while one hand slips further down to cup your ass and lift you.

His strength amazed you at times, and terrified you at others.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, whispering promises of never leaving his side and loving him forever against his lips before he silences you with a kiss. His soft lips warm and coaxing as he takes you out of the kitchen and towards your shared room in the house. His hold becomes a bit too harsh as you’re laid on the bed, his weight blanketing you. His eyes are darker than usual, deeper pools of blue you worry might drown you as he slips his hands beneath your skirt, calloused fingers running along the soft flesh of your thigh as he spreads them. A burning need deep in his gut to remind you where you belong.

“Who do you belong to?” It’s so light against your lips you nearly miss it.

Until he tears your underwear off, a yelp elicited from you at the sting on your flesh from where he tugged and tore them.

“You!”

He easily slips between your legs, fingers sliding through your folds, finding your puffy nub and applying pressure until you’re moaning.

“G-Giyuu…”

“That’s right. You belong to me, don’t you pearl? All mine,” he’s pressing into you, two fingers opening you up despite your entrance weeping for all of him. Still mostly clothed you grip his sleeves, whining because it’s not enough, his lips hushing you again. He swallows all the little noises you make, tongue invading and stealing your ability to think as he fucks you with his fingers. Each shlick of your pussy has you heating further, the lewd wet noises he elicits making your legs tremble around his waist.

He breaks the kiss, rubbing and stretching your gummy walls before curling his fingers and vigorously attacking your poor g-spot, his lips tugging into a smile as you shatter for him.

You’re left limp beneath him, the orgasm he tore from you too quickly made you dizzy as you pant and gather your mind again. Giyuu is already sliding the tip of his cock through your slick before you can recover, pressing forward once he’s lubricated enough to slip past the tight first ring of muscle into your warmth. His cock spreads you perfectly, opening you up and leaving you gasping for air due to the sensitive inner walls being stimulated further.

It’s desperate and messy how he fucks you, intertwining your fingers and pressing them beside your head, kissing and marking your neck up while repeating under his breath how you’re his.

“Mine too—!” Your airy cry has him sinking even deeper, a groan coming out at your own claiming of him.

“Giyuu—,” he wants nothing more than to brand your soul with himself.

“Yours,” he nods, looking into your eyes as he bullies his cock against your poor cervix, using his thighs to press you up further, almost in half while he fucks you.

“All yours,” he moans, burying his face in your neck while he stuffs you full, the room heating as you did, your core tightening around him while your body edges on the beginning of another orgasm.

He stops just before you can cum. His weight and warmth immediately leaving you as you cry out in denial. Your wide gaze on his cooling expression, his jaw taunt with tension.

“Giyuu…?”

“Not till you learn.” Your confusion must show on your face.

“That you’ll never be safe unless you’re by side.”

He didn’t believe you.

“But I—,”

“Shh… I know, my sweet pearl.” He’s blanketing you again, warmth returning to your body but his eyes remain cool.

“You’ll learn eventually.”

Something dark swirls in those depths, your gut telling you to run but…

There’s no where to go.

Dividers hand drawn by @benkeibear !

[pixelplayground]

PXL'S Anatomy of Screenshots

So you want to take better screenshots? There are multiple factors to consider, and if you don't enjoy tweaking reshade settings for every image, my ultimate method may not be for you. That being said, there are tips and resources in this guide that are applicable to everyone and you can select to explore those that are useful to your specific situation.

Disclaimer: I am not claiming to be an expert, nor am I offering to provide troubleshooting on an individual basis. This is a general guide and if you are unfamiliar with any of the concepts, please use the mighty power of the internet to find tutorials. I promise everything that I have learned over the years has been published and documented a thousand times better than I ever could.

There are five factors to address:

Your computer's inherent capabilities

The game's limitations

The mods you're using

Reshade

Post Processing

Graphics Card Settings & Drivers:

Become familiar with your graphic options. If you don't have a dedicated graphics card (i.e. a desktop or gaming laptop, these features may be unavailable and you should skip.)

I have an AMD Radeon Pro card which is designed for workstation level systems. It's overkill for sims, but useful for 3D rendering and modelling work. I have changed the following settings for DirectX 9 applications:

anti-aliasing - enhance application settings

anisotropic filtering - enabled

anisotropic filtering level - 16x

texture filtering quality - high

surface format optimization - high

Consider overclocking your graphics card to unlock it's full potential. DO NOT pursue this venture unless you are ok with the risk of burning out your card prematurely. I use at present, overclocked Bootcamp Drivers from BootcampDrivers.com obviously, if you're not playing on an intel based mac through Bootcamp, this is irrelevant to you.

None of these settings are useful until you address the default games limitations, which leads nicely into the next factor.

Addressing The Sims 4's Graphic Limitations:

Everyone should be familiar at this point with lighting mods, 4k, textures, disabling ssao, etc. but, I'm still going to spell it out. None of this is new information and has been covered many a time by various players ad nauseum.

remove ugly blue toned lighting in the world by choosing a lighting mod from @softerhaze here

overhaul your graphics.cfg file (i use a custom blend with features specific to me), however @simp4sims has done a ridiculous amount of work in providing a simple to install file that can be found here - read through their tutorials!! they have provided an excellent oversight of exactly what this does and why it matters

improve the indoor lighting for your sims - previously i used @luumia's no blu, no glo - recently i switched to @northernsiberiawinds better in game lighting mod here, though i have tweaked some of the settings to suit my own personal preferences

i don't use the HQ mod, i don't find that it makes enough difference for the amount of effort it requires to convert CAS CC

It should go without saying, but tweaking your graphics config file is absolutely useless if you can't play TS4 at it's maximum in game graphic settings!

The Mods You're Using:

Now that you've put in all this work into getting the game ready to make use of quality mods where do you start? Well, the CC you install matters. Whatever your preference, whether it be maxis-match, alpha or somewhere in between, priority should be given to using items textured in 2k or 4k resolutions, and specific attention should be paid to using wall and flooring textures with bump maps, and or high quality resolutions (this is important later for reshade if you intend to learn about ray tracing).

I will separately post a guide to creators with crispy textures because that is it's own novel.

Reshade:

Phew. Still with me?

There are many many many reshade presets out there, most are alike, but none employ ray tracing, and that is because a) it needs to be manually adjusted for every screenshot, b) they are paid shaders, and c) this requires advanced knowledge of reshade and a decent enough graphics set up that won't overheat - games running native ray tracing recommend a minimum VRAM of 8GB (please note RAM and VRAM are not the same) - i therefore do not recommend pursuing this option if your system does not meet those minimum requirements.

Start here to understand what ray tracing for reshade is. In my opinion, the shaders are well worth the price of $5 for the amount of work that has gone into creating them by the talented Pascal Gilcher. That link is a comprehensive starting point into expanding your knowledge of reshade and it's capabilities.

I have always created my own reshade presets from scratch, and while the core colorization settings I utilize remain largely the same, using ray tracing and re-light means every screenshot needs to be manually adjusted (lights repositioned, bounce and AO factors adjusted, etc) before being captured. @pictureamoebae just published a very timely post discussing the re-light shader and you can read it here.

Post Processing

Reshade does 99.99% of the work that traditionally would be accomplished in a photo editing software like photoshop. Occasionally, I need to adjust exposure manually, add depth of field manually, or color correct. Beyond that I use it to scale images to fit the resolution and file size limits of various platforms. Conceptually this reduces the amount of uncontrolled loss encountered when platforms like tumblr auto compress files that are too large. In reality, tumblr still makes images crappy compared to how they appear in my file folder.

optimize your images for various social media platforms using this guide

fix exposure or colorization issues using a software like photoshop

I hope that this gives you a starting point into expanding your methodologies. My process is continuously evolving and I find this aspect of the game most entertaining. For others who don't enjoy this process, it's probably not worth it!

Thanks for reading ❤ PXL