#i might try to write a tutorial soon

[spockandawe]

Another guestbook! I've never done one before just recently, but there were two on the line for this fall, haha. This one just went in the mail this morning, so I can now receive the blessed dopamine rush of posting!

This is a case where the couple wanted to create their own interior for the book. The title on it comes straight from them, and the volume begins with a fairy tale retelling of their relationship, which I think is just the SWEETEST idea. The guests will be able to sign after that, and then the rest of the space is for the couple to leave each other notes in the future.

I finally did made endpapers to beef this book up to make sure the endpapers were nice and sturdy, and it worked beautifully! I don't know why I struggled and gave up every other time I tried them, haha. This is another k118 for opening flat reasons, and ahh, even paper vellum feels delicious to handle, but vellum vellum is REALLY next tier. The endcaps are leather, matching the spine, and I'm stoked about how well I was able to shape the endcaps around them! Oh, and the cover is blue-black color shift duo bookcloth. I'm really pleased with how this whole project turned out!

[ssspringroll]

ok hi and lo poly versions of each braid shape now. the low poly ones are a little pointy BUT they significantly reduce the overall poly count of the braid. so if you're gonna be having a lot of small braids, or even just any amount of small (diameter, not length) braids, then lo poly is probably the way to go. If the braid is meant to be a centerpiece/object that draws attention/large chunky radius/just one braid in the whole hair, then a hi poly would be a better choice.

(these braids are the exact same length and shape, as they were both following the same exact curve, and you can see the triangle count (which should be the poly count in s4s) drop from 13k to only 3k. 13k would be pushing it for an entire hair's polycount, so its definitely still pretty demanding to put a braid in, but not as demanding as it would be to literally braid 3 strands of geometry like i've seen a bunch of tutorials demonstrating. im not even gonna try that.)

[kayewrite]

Want so Bad

genre:; fluff and (..) word count: 3.9K

Minho x reader! Minho x fem. reader!!

wherein: Minho is everything you never wanted in life. But he wants you….so bad.

(an: this is my favorite and i had fun writing while listening to Minho and Jisung's "Want so Bad" again and again and again. so i hope you enjoy reading it!! a comment, like, and reblog is very much appreciated)

"Why are you here?"

You roll your eyes, barely glancing up at the person standing in front of you, your voice dripping with boredom.

"I'm here because I miss you," he replies, winking at you in that infuriating way that always makes you cringe.

You’re in your living room, buried in your textbooks, when this boy suddenly appears in front of you, as if someone summoned him from nowhere.

Minho.

He’s your brother Jisung’s best friend in the entire world—or so they claim. There’s a three-year gap between you and them. They’re in their final year of college, while you’re just a freshman.

You would give him a proper introduction, but the truth is, you can't stand him. You’ve hated him ever since you were 15. He and Jisung have always loved teasing you, making your life miserable whenever they could.

"Jisung! Your favorite family member is here!" you shout, unable to handle Minho’s relentless teasing any longer. Sure, you’re in college now and supposed to be more mature (or so you tell yourself), but after years of dealing with them, you’ve become accustomed to hating their antics.

"I wasn’t even part of the family… but I guess I will be after I marry one of the family members," Minho smirks, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Then go marry my brother," you retort, your expression as nonchalant as ever.

He laughs and casually snatches the book you were studying. You’re so used to his flirty teasing by now that it barely fazes you.

It all started back in high school when Jisung teased you relentlessly, convinced you had a crush on Minho. He found it on your pink diary and read it out loud, complete with the cheesy music that played whenever you opened it. (Well, you did have a crush on Minho back then, but it faded over time.)

Jisung teased you so much that you cried your eyes out, and then he told Minho all about it, sparking years of torment.

"Oh no, my sister might actually ace her exams now that she’s seen her only inspiration," Jisung chimes in as he walks down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt. You roll your eyes at him too.

"I think I should come over more often. I might just make your sister the top student," Minho adds with a grin.

There goes your peaceful day.

But thankfully, they don’t bother you too much, as they soon move to the kitchen to eat. You try to refocus on your studies, but chemistry is giving you a hard time, so you pop in your earbuds and pull up a tutorial on YouTube. Just as you’re getting into it, a glass of orange juice and a muffin appear on your table (or rather, on top of your notebook).

"Eat, little devil. Food helps you focus more," Jisung says, placing the snacks down.

You mumble a quick thanks, thinking he’ll leave, but instead, he plops down on the couch behind you. You’re sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, your books and notes spread out on the coffee table in front of you. Then, without a care in the world, Jisung props his legs up on the table, acting as if your things are invisible.

You were almost touched by your brother’s gesture… but never mind.

"Yah!" You glare at him, but he just shrugs and turns on the TV, putting on a movie. A minute later, Minho joins him.

"What are you studying, kid?" Minho asks, even though he’s already glanced at your book.

"None of your business."

"Oh, is that a new subject? I’ve never heard of it before."

Argh.

"You should help her, Minho. I heard from her professor that she scored low on a quiz," Jisung says, his tone annoyingly casual.

How does he know that?

"Really?" Minho leans forward, peering at what you’re writing. "Well, chemistry is indeed tough."

"Help her out. You always got high scores in that subject back in the day."

You’re listening to them while half-heartedly writing, your earbuds now turned down low. You’re trying to pretend they’re just ghosts, but hearing them talk about your struggles in chemistry makes you want to join the conversation.

"Sure, if you give me that game console," Minho quips.

"On second thought, I think my sister will manage just fine."

Arghhh.

You can’t take it anymore. You gather up your things, smack your brother’s leg, and stomp upstairs.

Later, you’re back in your study area, trying to focus again when there’s a knock on your door. It can only be one of them since the three of you are the only ones at home. Your parents are working, even on a Sunday.

"What?!" you yell, your irritation clear.

You’re about to open the door when it swings open on its own, revealing Minho.

"You shouldn’t talk like that to your tutor," he says, flicking your forehead.

"Ow!"

Tutor? Jisung must’ve given him the console.

You don’t bother complaining because, aside from being tired… well, yeah, you’re just too tired.

"You should listen well, okay? If you don’t, we won’t get married," Minho teases, treating you like a child as always. You hate it, but you’re too drained to argue.

"Okay." You roll your eyes for the ninth time and settle in to listen as he starts to explain.

The tutorial is full of bickering and Minho’s relentless teasing, but unexpectedly, you finally understand the material. Your questions are answered, and for the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief.

"Thank you," you say as you bid him goodbye.

"Goodbye. Let me know when you get home. And say hi to your baby cats for me," your brother says, waving Minho off.

"How did your chemistry exam go?"

You’re happy with your results and you share them with Minho.

"I got an almost perfect score!"

"Really?" He messes up your hair. "Then you should thank me. You owe me."

"I’ll get Jisung’s console for you," you joke

Minho is at your house again. He says they have a group study session, but Jisung isn’t home yet. You both settled into the living room, the hum of the TV in the background as Minho lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out comfortably. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, your study materials spread out on the coffee table.

“So, what else do you need help with, little genius?” Minho teased, nudging your shoulder with his foot.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I don’t need your help again, Mr. Top Student. I can manage just fine on my own.”

Minho chuckled, the sound light and teasing. “Sure, you can. But remember, you owe me for that almost perfect score. I think I might start charging for my tutoring services.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “You know, you’re pretty impressive. Balancing all this studying and still managing to have a sense of humor.”

You felt a small flutter in your stomach at his words, a sensation that caught you off guard. You quickly masked it with a smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Minho.”

He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Who says I’m flattering you? I’m just stating facts.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words got caught in your throat when you met his gaze. There was something different in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. The usual playful glint was still there, but beneath it was a warmth that made you feel… special.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the notes in front of you, trying to shake off the unexpected feeling. “Anyway, where’s this group of yours? I thought you were supposed to be studying.”

Minho shrugged, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. “They’re running late. I guess they’re not as eager to study as I am.”

“Right, because you’re so eager,” you muttered, the sarcasm clear in your voice.

He chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you. You’re much more fun than Jisung.”

Your heart fluttered again, and you bit your lip, trying to keep your cool. “You’re just saying that because I actually study, unlike my brother.”

“True,” he agreed, his tone light. “But also because you’re interesting. I never know what you’re going to say next.”

You were about to respond when you heard the front door open and Jisung’s voice echo through the house. “I’m back! Did I miss anything?”

You quickly straightened up, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment that your brother had arrived. Minho, however, just smiled, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. As Minho pulled back with a wink, you felt the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

Jisung entered the living room, oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the air. “Hey, what are you two up to?”

“Just studying,” Minho replied casually, as if nothing had happened, though the smirk on his face told a different story.

You nodded, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, just studying.”

But as you glanced at Minho, who was now chatting with your brother like everything was normal, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you had just shifted in a way you hadn’t expected. And as much as you tried to deny it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, for the first time, Minho’s teasing had made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite understand.

You were walking through the university courtyard, your thoughts scattered as you mentally planned your study schedule for the rest of the day. It had been a busy week, and you were looking forward to some peace and quiet when you suddenly spotted Minho across the way. He was chatting animatedly with a girl, her laughter ringing out as he carried a stack of books for her.

You instinctively slowed your pace, your eyes lingering on them for a moment longer than you intended. The girl was pretty, with a bright smile and an easygoing vibe that made her seem instantly likable. She playfully nudged Minho with her shoulder, and he grinned back at her, that familiar teasing spark in his eyes.

For a second, you considered changing your route, avoiding the interaction altogether. But then you stopped yourself. Why would you do that? It’s not like it mattered. It wasn’t like you cared who Minho was talking to, or how close they seemed. Right?

So you took a deep breath and kept walking, your expression carefully neutral as you approached them. As you got closer, Minho caught sight of you, and his grin widened.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” he called out, his voice full of mock surprise. “You just couldn’t resist, could you? Saw my handsome face and had to come over.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Oh please, I just happened to be walking by. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The girl next to him laughed at your banter, and you noticed the way she lightly slapped his arm, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. It was clear they were close. Your eyes flickered to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of something—what was it? Jealousy? Annoyance? Whatever it was, you quickly pushed it down.

Minho noticed your glance and, as if reading your mind, raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry. Where are my manners? This is Seoyun, a friend from my class. Seoyun, this is my little genius here,” he added with a teasing smirk.

You gave her a polite nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at the word “friend.” “Nice to meet you, Seoyun.”

“Nice to meet you too!” she replied cheerfully. “Minho’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re quite the brainiac.”

You shot Minho a look, and he just grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep him in line,” you said, your tone light but with a hint of sarcasm.

Seoyun laughed again, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they seemed together. It was… unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. But you weren’t about to dwell on it.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” you said, glancing at your watch. “Places to be, things to study.”

“Always so busy,” Minho said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “But you know, all work and no play…”

“…keeps you out of trouble,” you finished for him with a smirk. “But don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”

Seoyun smiled at you again, giving a little wave. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other around.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, waving back before turning to continue on your way.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, just once, to see Minho and Seoyun laughing together as they continued their conversation. You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in your chest, brushing it off as nothing.

‘She must be his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself, trying to sound nonchalant even in your own mind. And then you shrugged, forcing yourself to focus on your day ahead. ‘Why would I care?’

But even as you walked away, you couldn’t quite shake the image of them together, the way they seemed to fit so naturally. And for the first time, Minho’s teasing didn’t just annoy you—it made you feel something deeper, something you weren’t ready to face just yet.

“Hey.”

You looked up at the voice calling your name. It was Jeongin, your classmate.

“We got paired for the presentation,” he reminded you. Oh! You remembered now, probably too occupied with other subjects to focus on this. “If you don’t mind, can we start after class? That way we’ll finish early and can focus on other things.”

“Sure,” you agreed, appreciating his practical suggestion.

“Great. We should head to a coffee shop after this.”

After class, you walked together, discussing the presentation details. Jeongin had some good ideas, and you found yourself easily slipping into a productive conversation. The atmosphere between you two was relaxed, and soon you arrived at the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” Jeongin asked as you both approached the counter.

“Latte, please,” you replied, smiling. “Thanks.”

As Jeongin went to order, you scanned the room, your eyes landing on a familiar figure. Minho. He was with a group of friends, casually chatting. When he looked up, his gaze met yours. He smirked at you, and you were about to wave, but then he broke the eye contact and turned his attention back to the person next to him. You scanned the group quickly, noticing your brother wasn’t there.

You tried to focus on your work, but you kept catching Minho glancing at you from the corner of your eye. For the first time, you wondered what he thought of seeing you with another guy. The idea made you smirk a little, enjoying the small twist of the situation. Minho, always so sure of himself, might just be a little thrown off by this.

Jeongin returned with your latte and his own drink, setting them down on the table.

“Ready to get started?” he asked, pulling out his notes.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you replied, pushing the thoughts of Minho to the back of your mind—for now, at least.

You were studying in the living room, the soft murmur of a video tutorial explaining organic chemistry filling the space. You were too focused to notice Minho entering your house until his voice broke through your concentration.

“Hey, my favorite person,” he greeted with a playful smile.

You glanced around, looking behind you and to the sides. “My brother’s not here,” you stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you are the one I meant. My favorite person.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “If Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were people, they’d be your favorites.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his tone light.

You returned to your studies, but Minho didn’t leave. Instead, he plopped down on the couch, stretching out as if he had all the time in the world. You tried to ignore him, but it wasn’t long before he broke the silence again.

“So, who was that guy you were with at the café earlier?” His tone was casual, but you could feel the underlying curiosity.

You hesitated, not sure how to respond. You didn’t have to be honest, but something made you want to see how he would react. “He’s a suitor,” you said nonchalantly, not looking up from your notebook.

Minho’s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly masked it, leaning back with a smirk. “A suitor, huh? I should tell your brother. Maybe he’ll confiscate your phone so you can focus on studying.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not a kid, Minho. I can decide who I want to spend time with.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, really? You’re still just a freshman. You should focus on your studies instead of getting distracted by things like relationships.”

Your irritation grew. “What about you? You’re in a relationship with that girl you were walking with, but I can’t be in one?”

Minho’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before he quickly composed himself. He knew you were jealous, and he had to hide the smile threatening to break through. “So, you were jealous?” he teased, leaning forward.

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks, and you stood up abruptly, gathering your things. “I’m not jealous,” you snapped, turning on your heel to head back to your room.

As you walked away, Minho couldn’t help but smile. He knew you were, even if you wouldn’t admit it, and that only made him like you more.

Life continues as usual, with your brother Jisung and Minho still finding every opportunity to tease you. Tomorrow is their graduation day, and as you walk into your brother's room to borrow a math book, you decide to ask him a question that's been on your mind.

"Jisung, what’s your plan after graduation?"

You’re genuinely curious, even if you’d never admit it to his face. Despite all the sibling rivalry, you’re proud of him for making it this far.

"Probably end up unemployed," he replies with a shrug.

You give him a deadpan look. What answer did you expect, anyway?

"Obviously, I’ll take the board exam first, then start job hunting," he says while folding his clothes. Then he glances at you, squinting. "You’re not asking because you’re curious about Minho, are you?"

Yeah…no!

You quickly throw a pillow at him, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Do you really think my world revolves around him?" Jisung catches the pillow and smirks, clearly not convinced.

"Even if you don't ask about Minho, I'll tell you anyway. Remember when I told you to spend more time with him? You should’ve listened, because after graduation, he’s going abroad. There’s a job offer waiting for him."

Oh…

You manage a nonchalant nod, but as you leave his room, the news weighs heavily on your mind.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t help but replay Jisung’s words over and over. Minho is leaving. The thought sends a strange ache through your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s not a big deal, that his absence won’t matter—but deep down, you know it will.

Graduation day arrives in a whirlwind of excitement. Your parents are there, beaming with pride, and you stand among the crowd, clutching a bouquet of flowers. You watch as your brother and his friends, including Minho, happily pose for group pictures, congratulating each other and hugging in celebration of finally finishing their studies. The joy is infectious, but there's a tinge of sadness in your heart.

Minho is leaving.

The thought lingers, even as you force yourself to focus on the present moment.

"Hey, little devil, take a picture of us," your brother calls out to you. You roll your eyes at the nickname but comply, grabbing the Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. It is his day, after all.

You snap the picture, capturing their bright smiles and laughter. The moment is perfect, but it tugs at your heartstrings.

Minho is leaving.

No matter how much you’ve pretended to hate him, the truth is, you’re going to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

"Are these my flowers?" your brother asks, reaching for the bouquet in your hands. You quickly hide it behind your back.

"They’re not yours! Mom has your flowers," you retort, giving him a playful glare.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, probably know what you are planning. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then, Minho approaches you, his usual teasing grin in place. "Can you take a picture of me? So you’ll have a souvenir picture of me," he said with a wink.

Pushing aside the urge to roll your eyes. Today, you’re happy for him, even if it’s bittersweet.

"Ha ha ha, I’m honored," you reply with mock sarcasm, but you can’t help laughing with him. You snap the picture, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

"We should take a picture together too," he says suddenly, taking the camera from your hands. He hands it to one of his classmates and stands beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. You try to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, secretly pleased to have a picture with him. You’re going to miss him.

After the picture is taken, you slowly extend the bouquet toward him. "These are for you. Congratulations."

Minho’s eyes light up with surprise and genuine happiness as he takes the flowers. "It’s my first time receiving flowers. I’m blushing," he says with a laugh. Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Wait, I need to think about it."

He presses a finger to his temple, pretending to be deep in thought.

You slap his arm lightly, laughing. "It’s a farewell gift, you idiot."

"Wait, you should give me more time to think," he says, closing his eyes dramatically. After a few seconds, he opens them with a playful glint. "Yes. I will be your boyfriend."

You freeze, caught off guard. What?

"So from now on, you’re my girlfriend," he declares, and before you can react, he leans in and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

Your mind spins as his words sink in. "I promised myself I’d wait until you graduate, but I can’t help it—especially since I’m going far away, someone might take you from me." he says softly and laughs, messing with your hair. "So wait for me, okay? I promise I’ll come back to you."

It takes a moment, but you finally manage a small nod, a smile tugging at your lips.

Minho smiles back, his eyes filled with warmth.

You realize then,

more than ever,

that you want him

just as much as he wants you.

[shoyastars]

Birthday Words - SFW

April 30th - Ray’s Birthday

Headlines and even the news announcing the Hero Binary Star’s birthday. You sigh as you know how these things usually go, everyone will want to give your boyfriend or Binary Star their gifts and attention, while you just want to spend time with him. You can’t help but curse the NAHA for hogging him.

You bring yourself to be reasonable again, after all… if everyone’s favorite hero wasn’t able to be seen on his birthday then people might cause useless drama over it, however some people still criticized the NAHA for making him work on his birthday too. A double edged sword, if only he had a cloning ability… wait scratch that, you didn’t… who knows what type of shit he could pull if he had one…

You turned off the tv and decided to go back to making a cake instead of going to a store. He liked your cake last year, so why not do it again this year but with more practice and with the help for decoration from YouTube tutorials that you thought Ray would like. You were more confident in this one, but only setting a cake didn’t sit right with you… yes you did it last year, but what gift could you give him? He can buy anything he wants, of course you were an option, but it really didn’t make your thought easy. You sigh tired, as you hummed to a relaxing melody playing in the background, somehow causing you to drift off into sleep, you felt so relaxed your eyes completely shut..

The buzz of your phone against the table annoys you enough to reach for it, in your half asleep state, you yawn and manage to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Star, just wanted to call and see how you were holding up at home.”

Hearing Ray’s voice causes you to wake up instantly, looking at the date, you sigh in relief that you didn’t sleep the full day away.

“I’m good, just um… watching some tv and doom scrolling… a lot of things popped up about you.”

“I bet… but I’m more interested in spending time with you after all this…”

You felt your face head up, as much as he is supposed to have his birthday about him, he still can’t help but be selfish when it comes to you.

“Yeah yeah.. why make it about me though? Seriously if anything I should be more excited to see you today of all days.”

Ray chuckled as you smiled on the other end of the phone. Sometimes you wonder if you still were dreaming upon how the two of you crossed paths… it would’ve been one hell of a dream… but reality always has its surprises… speaking of surprises… his gift… many times have you thought of getting his gift for his birthday…. Yet… the obvious always settles in…. He can literally buy anything he wants or needs, but you were someone he’d rather have over any object he can use anytime.

“I’ll see you when you get home! Happy Birthday Ray.”

Ray smiles on the other end, a light pink across his face, hearing your voice was at all was definitely the best gift he’s had all day.

“Thank you Star.. I’ll see you soon.”

The beep as the call ends, the settling thoughts come in, you had no idea or at least have an idea for a gift for his birthday… maybe some would say it’s unnecessary, but you really couldn’t think of a better idea. You knew him well by now, you weren’t dumb not to notice. However… you were sure you didn’t have anything too interesting to the eye. You went to take a shower to brush off some of the nerves. Despite it all, you still wanted Ray to have a good birthday, thinking about it now, he probably didn’t have many… you wanted him to enjoy now, of course the gift doesn’t have to be too flashy, but you might as well make something by hand…. Like a card…

Trying to make something out of nothing is harder than people think, you did already make a cake, might as well make a card. As childish as it was, at least to you, you wanted to try and make something for him, you didn’t want to only give him the cake, but give him at least something meaningful. When you were done with the little design on the card, you thought of what to write, something heartfelt? But not too heartfelt.. Does that make sense? Either way, you wrote down what you wanted to say regardless, reading it in your head, reading it aloud… you sigh as you then hold it close to your chest, you both felt and heard your heart racing… will he like it, even if it’s nothing fancy? Is it enough? You know he would still love you, but you’re anxiety is saying otherwise…

Maybe add some more flare to the design…?

Hearing the door open and close causes you to jump a bit. Ray’s back?? What time was it?

“Star, I’m back!”

“Uh… One second!”

You looked at the card and went to just put it under the cake for now, the plate for it was big enough to cover some of it. You then hear him walking in, you of course tried to act cool.. he looked at you with a bit of worry.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah.. just uh… didn’t… except you home till later…”

“Something about fans not wanting me on the clock for too long. Kind of confusing since some wanted to meet me on my birthday to…”

‘Fucking called it…’

“Yeah… it’s a double edge sword situation.”

“No kidding… anyways, how have you been?”

“Just waiting for you to get back.. nothing too special…”

Ray looks at you suspiciously, you immediately realize your words and instantly regret it.

“Not what i meant, happy birthday by the way… but um… just waiting around ya know? Hehe….”

“…Right….”

He tilted his head to the side, smiling a bit. He crossed his arms leaning against the door frame.

“Made me a cake again?”

“…yeah! Well… I tried to make it better than last time.. have a few YouTube tutorials on how to make it better… but um… yeah..”

“Uh huh.”

You’d feel more awkward than embarrassed, he chuckled a bit. You looked away, that stupid face he made, it always made you so flustered… you’ve been with him for how long?

“I’ll go take a shower, then we’ll eat some cake together, how does that sound?”

“Sounds good… pretty good.”

“Good to know.”

He goes to where the bathroom is while you quickly check the cake, everything is all good, you moved the cake to the table, along with two forks, when he did get out you didn’t notice how he saw the card while you thought of getting drinks to. Encountering him in the kitchen with his back turned to you.

“What would you like to drink? If the cake I made turned out bad, might as well wash it down, am I right?”

“Did you write this?”

“Hm?”

When Ray did turn towards you, you saw the card in his hand. You immediately felt you’re face heat up, you knew you weren’t just forgetting drinks… you forgot about the card…

The look on you’re face only proved his suspicions, he smiles and goes to hug you while you were too busy thinking of how embarrassed you were that you forgot about you’re card…

“I know it’s not much.. I just-“

“Star, anything made by you is worth it, it’s gold even, a whole universe.”

“Ok… cutting it a bit far…”

“Either way.. I love it… but you know you can always tell me what’s written down, right?”

“Pfft, you know how that ends…”

Ray lets out a light chuckle, holding you close as he just enjoys you in his embrace. He’s going to treasure this moment… you just know it..

“I’ll be keeping this, however, let’s go and eat that cake you made for me.”

“What about the-“

“Water. Cmon! Don’t wanna eat it without the baker who made it.”

He teased as he went to the table with the cake that was made for him. The cake turned out good, you and Ray talked about each other's day, and made plans for tomorrow since you didn’t have work, a date to spend time together. He said it was his birthday wish, but you doubt it’s just that.. either way… safe to say, this birthday.. was a success..

For Ray, he always spent it alone, however when you first celebrated his birthday with him, it became something he looked forward to, a day to spend time with the one he loved… the one who he knew was his star.

The next day was a day where you two just spent time together, binge watched movies, some cuddling and some coffee, a day free of some stress, he couldn’t have asked for more. Holding you in his arms and making sure there wasn’t a single call for him to go into work. Don’t ask how, he just made sure… either way. He enjoyed his wish, a wish to make new memories and have more time together. He loved you more than ever, You were his, and he was yours. You were his Star, as much as he was you’re Ray. Happier than ever before.

His Star, and no one else’s.

Looking over the card you wrote for him, bringing a smile to his face. You were asleep next to him, he kissed you’re head before finally falling asleep.

“Two stars that orbit around each other, two who found each other to love, and to hold one another. Ray, you and I become those two stars, and I’ve never once regretted my decision to love you. You say I was you’re binary star, and you’re mine, we draw each other in, and we orbit. Just us in a pre ordained dance. Happy birthday, forever you’re Star.”

—

Happy Birthday Ray! Our favorite Hero!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hi! can i ask you have a certain research workflow for your writing materials?

Hi, here is a great explanation on secondary research, with a 5-step tutorial: The Research Process, which I try to follow.

If you want my longwinded answer...

It depends on the topic. But this is more or less what I do for the requested posts:

Collect information I can find related to the topic (my old files, bookmarks, a quick internet search...)

Integrate all (or most) of that in one post (always interesting to see where the different sources overlap, disagree etc.)

Reformat the post (bullet points & numbered lists, might include a bit of my thoughts/opinions ... but on the most part, it's basically just copied & pasted, especially when I'm not that familiar with the topic)

Link to the sources I used (sometimes posts don't save properly when my connection fluctuates so I appreciate when people point out missing/broken links, which I'll edit as soon as I see the messages)

Might include a photo (like the one above & then I link to the photo in the Image Description)

Add tags (because tumblr keeps reminding me when I don't, so I usually just copy & paste from my previous posts)

Add to queue (or "schedule" because I keep accidentally clicking the "shuffle queue" & it messes up the queue)

But on a more serious note, these posts really are just surface-level secondary research, mostly internet research, done really late at night or on lazy weekends, in an overly-caffeinated state. So please do research more for your writing projects. These may just be useful as starting points or to get a few ideas/inspiration, maybe. This blog is ever-growing & there are many research databases I don't have access to (+ considering my limited/lack of knowledge on certain topics), so all the additional information & corrections are always appreciated and won't just be helpful to me, but everyone who uses these references as well!

(As for the non-requested queued posts, that's just me going through my bookmarks and old files. Just been clearing them out as another ongoing little side project for me that I started last year. Okay, I should stop talking now. Bye for now, dear anon.)

[arc852]

A Sewn Surprise

Summary: Grian and Joel try to teach themselves how to sew, in order to surprise Jimmy with some new clothes. But it isn't going well.

Word Count: 1716

AO3 Link

Yay! A new fic! I'm sorry it's been a couple of weeks but I'm finally writing again, so hopefully there will be more fics posted soon. Oh, and this is my first time writing Cleo, so hopefully she is in character!

I hope you guys enjoy!

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

 “Ow!”

 Grian looked over just in time to see Joel stick his finger in his mouth, a frustrated look on his face. “You okay?” Grian asked, though he was only half asking about the prick Joel got.

 “No, I’m not okay. This is stupid! What were we even thinking?” Joel put his head in his hands and let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

 “We were thinking it would be nice to make Jimmy some new clothes.” Grian said and then let out his own sigh, more defeated than frustrated. “But you’re right, this is going nowhere.”

 They had been at it for three days now, trying to learn and sew Jimmy some new clothes. Ever since he had moved in fully, it was easier to notice the fact that Jimmy only had two outfits. One regular and one specifically made for borrowing, apparently. Though, since Jimmy didn’t borrow anymore, he wore the other pair of clothes more often.

 Still though, only having two pairs of clothes was…kind of sad. It was impressive, for sure, that Jimmy had made the clothes himself but when they had asked him why he hadn’t made more, Jimmy had said he hadn’t had enough supplies. But then continued and reassured them he didn’t need much more than that anyway.

 Grian and Joel, however, begged to differ. So outside of their dorm, where Jimmy couldn’t overhear them, they talked about looking into getting Jimmy some new clothes. Of course, they knew they couldn’t just buy them, doll clothing was stiff and way bigger than Jimmy anyway. But maybe, they could make him some themselves.

 And that’s what led them here, in the sewing club's room. They had graciously allowed them to work on their little project and even use their supplies. But sitting down with a laptop open to a tutorial and trying to figure it all out was not working out for them.

 It had been three days, and they were nowhere close to even a single item of clothing.

 “It’s been days. Sooner or later, Jimmy is gonna get suspicious.” Joel said, lifting his head away from his hands. He stared at the mess of fabrics, needles, and threads and glared at them.

 “We might have to ditch the surprise part of all of this.” Grian suggested as he put his own needle and thread down. It was just so hard to make stitches that small, and that was with previous experience with sewing. For Grian and Joel, who had absolutely no experience, it was next to impossible.

 As they were stewing in their own defeat, someone walked into the room. Grian and Joel barely paid attention, people were walking in and out of here all the time after all. What did catch their attention though, was a sudden familiar voice. “What are you two doing here?”

 Grian and Joel looked up to be met with Cleo, a good friend of theirs. She was looking at them with a surprised look, which was fair. Neither of them had ever brought up wanting to sew before. This was also bad though because, well, what were they supposed to say? They were trying to make tiny clothes for their borrower friend Jimmy? Yeah, no, that would be bad.

 “We’re uh…trying to learn how to sew?” Grian said though it came off more as a question. Which only deepened Cleo’s confusion. 

 “Sew…what, exactly?” Cleo asked, looking over them and at the table to see the mess of tiny fabrics and even tinier stitches. Grian and Joel looked at each other, slightly panicking.

 “Uh, doll clothes!” Joel suddenly exclaimed, laughing nervously. “For Grian’s cousin!”

 Cleo blinked and looked between the two of them. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “You two are making doll clothes for Grian’s cousin? Why not just buy them some?”

 “My cousin is…very particular about it?” Grian chimed in, going along with what Joel had said. Though, once again, his sentence came out more as a question.

 Cleo continued to look at the two of them, not seemingly convinced. Thankfully though, she changed the subject, walking along the table to its side and picking up one of the fabric pieces. “Well, this is definitely not where you should be starting if you’re just now trying to learn how to sew.”

 Joel sighed, once again putting his head in his hands. “Yeah, we’ve kind of figured that out already.”

 Cleo hummed, brushing her thumb against the fabric. “Do the two of you care if you're actually the ones to make them or were you just trying to do it yourselves because of your cousin’s ‘particular’ taste?” Cleo asked.

 Grian blinked, a bit surprised by the question. “Uh, well, I guess the second? We would have bought them if anyone made them.”

 Cleo nodded and put the piece of fabric down, moving her hands to rest on her hips. “Well, then the two of you are in luck. I happen to have an opening and I’m sure I can squeeze in making a few clothes for your cousin’s dolls.”

 Grian and Joel’s eyes widened and they both stood up in surprise. “Wait, seriously?” Grian asked.

 “Of course.” Cleo said with a smile. “Just leave it to me.”

  ***

   It was only a day later that Grian and Joel heard a knock at their door. Jimmy ducked behind the lamp on Joel’s nightstand as Grian stood up to answer the door. When he saw that it was Cleo, Joel joined him and they stepped outside for a moment. Cleo gave them a slightly confused look at not being invited in but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, presenting them with a neat handful of folded up outfits.

 “It was a bit tricky but I managed.” Cleo said as Grian took the clothes from her hands. There were three in total. Grian’s thumb brushed over the tiny jeans, in awe at how real they felt. Joel leaned in to try and get a good look himself.

 “Cleo, these are amazing.” Joel said, grabbing one of the shirts and studying it more closely. “It’s like you took regular clothes and shrunk them down.”

 Cleo chuckled. “Well, that is basically what you asked for.”

 Grian looked up and away from the tiny outfits in order to look at Cleo. “How much do we owe you?”

 “Aww, you two don’t owe me anything. Consider it a friend discount.” Cleo said. As Grian and Joel started to argue against not paying her, she held her hands up, stopping them. “I’m the one who offered, so I don’t want to be paid. This time. Now in the future if you happen to need any more outfits, then we’ll talk.” She said with a chuckle.

 Grian nodded. “Absolutely. We’ll definitely be coming back to you for some more.”

 Joel grinned. “Yeah, Jimmy is going to love these.”

 Cleo tilted her head, a smile still present. “Jimmy?”

 Both Grian and Joel froze and looked at each other. Joel looked a lot more panicked though and so Grian was the one who spoke. “My cousin! Jimmy, he’s my cousin.”

 “Hmm, right.” Cleo said, arms crossed with her smile never leaving. For some reason, she still didn’t seem fully convinced. But she moved along, which Grian and Joel sighed in relief at. “Well, I really do hope he likes them. Feel free to come to me if I need to make any adjustments.”

 “Thank you Cleo, really. You’re amazing.” Joel said, after having calmed down from his slip-up.

 “I know.” Cleo said and then turned and left, waving goodbye as she did so. Grian and Joel nodded at each other, grinning.

 “Ready to show Jimmy?” Grian asked.

 “Let’s do it.” Joel said as he handed the shirt he had picked up back to Grian. Grian put his hands together, covering the small outfits as they headed back inside.

 As they closed the door behind them, Jimmy popped his head around the lamp, only fully coming out once he realized it was just Grian and Joel coming back into the room. “Who was that?” Jimmy asked, looking behind them at the door.

 “Just our friend Cleo.” Grian answered. “She stopped by to drop something off.”

 Jimmy blinked in confusion, only because it didn’t appear as though either of them were holding anything. “What did she drop off?”

 Grian and Joel glanced at each other with a grin before Grian knelt down and moved his cupped hands in front of Jimmy. “We’ve got a surprise for you.” And that was all the warning Jimmy got before Grian opened his hand.

 Jimmy came closer and looked to see what Grian was holding, only for his eyes to widen in shock. Jimmy could barely believe it. He slowly reached down and grabbed a shirt, looking and rubbing at the texture. If possible, his eyes widened even more, realizing that not only were these tiny clothes the perfect size for him but they felt exactly like Grian and Joel’s clothes. Soft and comfortable and warm.

 “We tried making them ourselves at first.” Joel’s voice cut through and Jimmy looked up. “But learning to sew is harder than it looks. So then Cleo offered to make them.”

 “But don’t worry.” Grian chimed in before Jimmy could overthink anything. “She just thinks she was making custom doll clothes for my cousin.”

 Jimmy laughed at the same time he could feel some tears start to gather in his eyes. “Do you even have a cousin?” He asked as he wiped away the tears.

 Grian smiled softly. “No, but Cleo doesn’t know that.”

 Jimmy held the shirt close to him. This was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. “Thank you. This is…this is amazing.”

 Joel’s smile was also soft as he reached down and gently brushed his fingertips over Jimmy’s back, cupping his hand around him but not grabbing him. Just offering comfort. “Of course. We wanted to do this for you. You deserve to have more than two pairs of clothes.”

 “Yeah. And we’re glad you like them.” Grian said.

 “I love them.” Jimmy corrected and then started looking at the other articles of clothing, feeling them and holding them up to himself. Grian and Joel just watched, happy their surprise had been a big hit.

[httpsdana]

hii♡ can you do 14 & 17 from fluff with Florian?

Cinnamon Love~Florian Wirtz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: I know I said it was gonna be a Hector fic next but i still dk how to write the request I have

14. “I never planned to fall in love, but here we are"

17. “Hey, stop wriggling! I’m trying to braid your hair, and you keep moving.”

As soon as Florian stepped into the house, the aroma of the cinnamon candle filled his nostrils making him smile. He dropped his bag by the front door and slowly followed the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen.

When he reached the kitchen, his smile widened in an instant. There she stood, her back to him as she wore one of his old jerseys, that barely covered her thighs with her favorite apron above it. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail with a few strands falling over her face.

Florian stood in his place for a few seconds, just watching her knead the dough and hum the tune playing. He walked quietly behind her, slipping his hands around her waist from behind.

She yelped before looking down and knowing who it was by the black hair tie he kept on his wrist.

“Flo!” she screeched, turning her head slightly to look at him.

“Did I scare you baby?” he said in an almost guilty voice, but his smile said otherwise.

 “Yes, you did,” she huffed, turning her attention back to the dough between her hands.

“What’re you making?” he peeked over her head.

“Cinnamon rolls,” she grinned, “Thought you deserve something sweet after the amazing performances recently,”

“I already have something sweet,” he leaned down, pressing a kiss on the side of her cheek. She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way he made her heart flutter.

“Shut up,” she murmured. 

Her hair fell over her face once again, making her huff as she tried to blow it away from her face. Florian noticed how annoyed her hair had made her and decided to take matters in his own hands.

He pulled back from her, reaching over her hair to pull the hair tie. He put in on his wrist as he gathered sections of his hair and started to braid her hair.

“What are you doing?” she tried turning her head, but he quickly put her back into place.

“Hey, stop wriggling! I’m trying to braid your hair, and you keep moving” he said in a focused tone, as he gently tightened the braid.

“Since when do you know how to braid?” she asked surprised, her lips twitching in a smile. He didn’t answer her until he finished it, tying it with the hair tie on his wrist.

His hands gripped her shoulders, turning her around to look at her.

“There, you look gorgeous,” he said with a smile, his thumb reaching up to wipe the bit of flour on her cheek.

“You didn’t answer my question. Who taught you how to braid hair?” she raised her eyebrow.

Florian chuckled, but the pink flush on his cheeks betrayed him.

“No one did” he shrugged, “I watched some tutorials on TikTok”

“Why?” she asked

“You always talk about how you love to have your hair braided but you don't know how to do it on your own” he stepped closer to hold her by the waist again. “So, I thought I’d learn…for you”

She felt her heart melt as his small gesture. It might seem like nothing, but it meant everything to her.

“Oh Flo. You’re the sweetest,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, careful not to get flour on his shirt.

“I try my best,” he shrugged, but his smile was as wide as ever.

“Help me with the rest?” she asked, nudging her head toward the dough in the bowl.

“Of course, darling,”

y/n started cutting the dough, with Florian spreading the mix inside. Every once in a while, he’d come close and kiss her in some way, her forehead, cheek, or the corner of her mouth.

When she finally placed the last pieces in the oven, she turned to look at him.

“Thanks love. My back was starting to hurt,” she frowned, making him chuckle quietly.

He appeared next to her, his hands holding her hips as he pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest as one of his hands ran up and down her back.

As the low music continued to play in the background, Florian started to slowly sway his hips, moving her body with his.

She raised her head from his chest, smiling as she looked at him.

“Are you trying to dance?” she joked, clutching his shirt tighter under her fingers.

“What do you mean trying? I’m a professional,” he murmured into her hair, before pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

She giggled silently as the two of them moved slowly with the music, neither of them saying anything.

“You know…” he started, making her look up at him, “I never planned to fall in love,” he looked down at her, his eyes soft and vulnerable, “but here we are. I’m with someone who feels like home”

She couldn’t hold back her pout at his words. She felt her heart melting at how genuine he sounded.

She leaned up, pressing a few kisses on his jaw before pulling him down to kiss his lips. She might not be the best with words, but she knew how to make him know that the feeling is mutual.

“I love you Flo, so much,” she mumbled against his lips, making him smile as he connected their lips again.

"I love you more, schatz” (darling)

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[meichenxi]

in the spirit of interaction: what are your thoughts on chinese calligraphy? have you ever taken classes? (i ask because it's something of a closet hobby of mine and your header is calligraphy as well ^.^) also, what would you say the most challenging part of studying is for you?

in the spirit of interaction: thank you, and apologies it inevitably took me this long to answer!!

my actual experience with calligraphy goes hand-in-hand with my ability to handwrite: as in, not much! whenever I do end up restarting my handwriting journey (and I'm going to have another crack at it soon), however, I find the calligraphic component of it the most satisfying by far. I'm going to focus on the practical element of calligraphy as beautiful handwriting that you can actively study, rather than as an art form or studying its history.

one of the things I focused on right from the get-go with learning to handwrite chinese was to copy chinese handwriting and not typed fonts. the balance was always important: chinese is such an elegantly written language and my ugly beginner's handwriting physically hurt me. I also love handwriting in english and deliberately crafted my own cursive style when I was around 14, so I knew I wanted to pay similar attention to it in chinese. that meant I spent a lot of time 'handwriting' without knowing the characters I was writing in the beginning, purely to get a feel for the balance and shape of characters.

I think calligraphy is especially interesting to deliberately study from a practical perspective when learning to write because it provides an answer to the 'how to fit X character in a box' conundrum that always plagues me: fat characters, complex character, lopsided characters, thin and narrow characters. looking at calligraphic representations of whatever character you're trying to learn to write can show you that often this desire to fit into the box is a little misplaced: most natural chinese handwriting does have characters that are taller, broader, longer etc, and you can learn in what circumstances such a re-balance is considered beautiful and acceptable, and in what circumstances the size difference or relationship between different characters on the same line is too extreme and veers towards awkward or ugly.

I find making an effort to separate your handwriting practice (for learning the strokes) and handwriting practice (for practicing balance and style) can lead to really excellent results!! I would add a separate half an hour of practice at the end of my general handwriting daily ritual to specifically focus on one aspect of handwriting: a type of stroke, the way I held the pen or pencil (I don't regularly use brush and ink), the composition and balance of similarly composed characters.

for this, I would go to a chinese calligraphy app on my phone and search for, say, a common character like 也 that I already knew how to write. this would show me examples from different styles of calligraphy, and where the line might be between 'readable and beautiful' and 'artistic but illegible for daily life'. from there I would go on a little bit of a youtube rabbit hole watching other tutorials for that particular character - I found searching for the kanji in japanese if it's the same as the chinese character to be very helpful, as there are lots of videos for a japanese audience! - and pay attention to the key things that go wrong, its balance, where its 'centre' is and so on.

I would then go and practice writing the character, but not only that: I would try and deliberately make certain parts of it exaggerated, as much as I could, to see which parts of the writing process are 'loadbearing'. for example with 也 - the middle line often in calligraphic styles begins way above the left-most line and the hook. so from that it would become clear how the character might look sped up - I would also try and find cursive examples of each on youtube to understand which strokes are commonly joined.

all of the characters that I can write - still, after a long time away - in a way that I find pleasing or well-balanced for a non-native and unpracticed writer, are ones that I spent the time and effort into studying in this amount of detail, or ones that are analogous to other characters whose compositions I studied. the best thing about this sort of method is that, even though you might only be 'learning' one character a day, the rules and general guidelines for form, weight of the pencil, balance of composition etc are very similar across many different characters. and you learn to spend time before you write a new character examining it and figuring out where the weight of it is, what it would look like in a square, what it would look like calligraphically on its own, where it would sit on a line with other characters etc. so it all carries over to other characters you later learn, and your handwriting in general begins to improve.

in terms of calligraphy as an art form: I think part of what draws me to chinese and specifically traditional chinese culture is the emphasis on morality within craft - excellence in learning is a moral virtue. the harmony of technical excellence and virtue is something which makes me kind of go insane. and it makes sense: there is not the same separation of duty and social life and other confucian values to family, state etc with art as there is in western culture: who wrote the poems? even the poets with the most overtly daoist and/or rebellious themes had often been officials at court, even if they were hermit-ing out in the mountains or had fled their official positions. a gentleman of good standing was expected to master calligraphy, but also painting, poetry composition and so on.

with the same brush and the same paper, the three arts are inseperable: a painting is a poem and a poem is a painting, and both are enriched by the fervour or restraint or elegance or curtness or wildness of the writer or painter's brushstrokes. of course there are individual artists who are remembered more as calligraphers or painters or poets, but most 'gentlemen' and respected educated rich women (though about this I know less, being honest) would have been expected to excel at all three.

and the 'literati' was a social class, tied up of course with land and money and huge privilege, but in theory a class which anybody with the luck to receive a good education, pass the imperial exams and join the ranks of government, could enter. (of course you had to have money to be tutored in the first place since there were not schools and private tuition was the norm, but anyway...). even if you failed the exam, or failed at one of the increasingly challenging levels, your life could be transformed: you could find a job as a tutor or teacher and escape the crushing weight of a peasant's life, with room to pursue leisure.

so my appreciation for calligraphy I think ties in to my appreciation of this way of thinking and the emphasis on a well-rounded gentleman of letters, and the idea that learning and painting and writing are all forms of self-betterment and cultivation. that too ties in with the martial arts aspect of it - like you can see in films like zhang yimou's hero, where calligraphy is held up as proof of a swordsman's mastery of the sword - in a way which is kind of mocked in the west, or seen in anime with the old master at the top of the mountain, but something that does have its basis in reality. the idea that creativity itself must be based first on a solid mastery and understanding of the classics, of the works of antiquity; the idea that learning and exercising that - like you exercise your body - is a morally good thing to do. the idea that because it is moral, your own moral virtues or lack thereof, your own character, can be revealed in your calligraphy or your swordsmanship or your poetry or your art.

I don't have any especial knowledge of calligraphy itself, but the underpinning idea is very compelling to me. I suppose it's similar in some ways to the greek strenuous education of body and mind in antiquity, though I really don't know much about that. I know that the heavy and weighted respect for the classics can be stifling in a lot of education, and has worked to repress and suppress the rights of women and the lower classes. so of course there's nuance, and having taught in east asia three times I'm well aware of the frustrations and cruelties, sometimes, of a confucian-based classroom. but I still think it's something we can learn from in the west, with discernment and respect.

(I COMPLETELY FORGOT THE SECOND PART OF YOUR QUESTION!! will do another post on that, sorryyy)

[alexanderlightweight]

Could you write something with Alec interacting with nephilim children

I like how you write him being careful with his words towards downworlder children so I'd like to know how'd you write him with nephilim kids as well

so i've known how i wanted to fill this for a while but i couldn't figure out hw to like, contextualize it and write it until now but here it is!

i hope you enjoy!

<3 lumine

-

Magnus doesn’t realize there is a difference with how Alexander treats children until nearly a year after first seeing Alexander with Madzie and then — slowly — other downworlder children.

It never occurs to him to consider how Alexander might treats nephilim children, until now.

There are a dozen adorable little figures who perk up the moment Alec steps after Magnus through the portal and they instantly swarm him.

“Commander!” They call and Magnus hides a smile with a hand, expecting Alexander to break into the normally warm smile he shares with Madzie.

“Debrief!”

It takes Magnus aback, to hear Alexander’s normally low and soothing voice — the voice he uses with children — take a gruffer edge. It’s still much softer than what he uses with adults, but it lacks a delicacy that Magnus has learned to recognize with Madzie and other particularly vulnerable children.

Despite his — what Magnus considers — abrasiveness, the children seem only more delighted. They form a double line and wait for him silently and with minimal shifting as Alexander walks through their ranks and… oh.

Magnus’ heart breaks as he realizes that he is not watching Alexander with nephilim children.

He is watching Alexander with shadowhunter trainees.

Bright eyed and newly runed children who are expected to soon be capable of running messages to Institutes, learning to take portals without getting sick, and who have long left their childhood behind.

If they ever had one at all.

Alexander treats them as the tiny soldiers they are until he’s through inspecting them — stopping to listen to quick and quiet sentence from each of them — and then his face softens.

“You did well, all of you.” He tells them and his hand falls on the tousled hair of the closest trainee and he looks down, mouth curling into a gentle smile. “I’m proud of you.”

They all light up at his sincerity, at the depth of his words.

They look as happy as Madzie when Alec lifts her onto his shoulders at the aquarium or when he stumbles over youtube tutorials to carefully twist and oil Madzie’s hair into appropriate braids.

“Any injuries after sparring?” Alexander asks and there is a chorus of proud denials and then two hesitant affirmations. “Status report,” Alexander says, dropping to rock onto his heels before the two with a calm face and voice.

“I broke my wrist!” One of them finally exclaims and she seems almost pleased about it, something eager in the way she presents her ‘report’. “And I told the trainer immediately! I didn’t try to ignore it this time!”

Magnus internally winces at the ‘this time’.

“Well done Elise,” Alexander murmurs and he pats her head as well. “You did excellent. After all if you hide an injury, then it will only get worse.” He says but it’s in a fond, pleased tone as if he’s repeated it quite a bit and is happy that it’s sunk in.

The boy next to her nods his head eagerly, “I lost a tooth! But the medics said it was still a baby tooth.” He gives a little gap-toothed scowl at that and Magnus now sees the lines creasing around Alexander’s eyes that mean he’s holding back a chuckle as he pats the child’s head.

“Well done, all of you. Remember to keep an eye on yourselves and each other. Elise and Loyiso both need to check with a medic before sparring tomorrow, can I count on their teams to make sure it happens? I’ll expect a report about what the medic says after training.” There is a chorus of determined agreements and then the children depart, all of them sending a last glance to Alexander before disappearing down through a hallway.

“I didn’t realize you had trainees.” Magnus says as they walk to Alexander’s office.

“Shockingly enough, I have one of the lowest death rates per Institute’s.” Alexander tells him quietly, though Magnus hardly considers that shocking. Alexander holds himself to a higher standard than almost any shadowhunter Magnus has ever met and he holds his Institute to similar quality. “Especially for an Institute in such a populated area as this. I train my hunters hard but beyond that and the fact that I won’t allow nepotism—” Alexander grimace here makes Magnus wince, he knows why Alec is so strict with it. “I’m known to be fair. People have been petitioning me to take trainees for months. I insisted on waiting until we were no longer an active warzone.”

Alexander rolls his eyes here and Magnus bites back his own scathing response to hearing that.

They manage to make it to Alexander’s office without any further delays and instead of his desk, Alexander slumps into the sofa he normally joins Magnus on.

“Alexander?”

“They’re practically babies, Magnus.” Alexander murmurs, “it wasn’t so bad when I wasn’t around other kids. Now I see Madzie and the rest and I just— what am I supposed to do?”

“Oh.” Magnus breathes out, his heart breaking because of course Alexander can’t risk softening around shadowhunter children. He’s going to be their commanding officer or at the very least, he’s going to be the standard of every commanding officer and trainer that they meet from now on.

These aren’t children who can grow up as slowly as they want or need.

These are nephilim babes.

Shadowhunters bred for battle.

Alexander can’t treat these children as actual children.

Not only would it be viewed as disrespectful or cast a bad light on the children themselves, it would only coddle them to the point where another Institute might throw them out or they might get themselves killed.

Spares, Alexander called them.

Fodder is what the clave considers them.

Not the heirs who will learn politics first, but the backups, the ones the clave might use as sacrifices and suddenly Magnus understands why they’ve been sent to Alexander.

Alec Lightwood does not sacrifice his people without cause.

Shadowhunters cannot understand duty without sacrifice but even then, it’s a relief to know that it’s just, especially for their children.

Alec is known to protect his people viciously. Oh, if they betray him and his code, he’ll bleed them himself, but those under his authority are also blessed by his protection.

Magnus understands better now, why parents would risk sending their children to Alec, even in the middle of a warzone.

Alexander won’t use them simply as bait.

It would cross his mind — the clave and Maryse trained him too well for it not to — but as soon as he became aware it was an option, he wouldn’t truly consider it and instead use it as fuel and strive to find and create other options until it was the last.

Unlike more clave-minded Institutes, who would rather save time than lives.

“I’ve put a note on their files, none of their teams will be allowed solo missions until all of them have met and matched their estimated growth spurts and then be evaluated. That will give them some more time at least, out of the field without supervision.” Alexander is rambling now, but Magnus merely sits next to him and rests his hand on Alec’s thigh, massaging the tense muscles gently. “I can get away with it because I used my siblings and I’s records and then scoured the database of submitted reports. Half of the injuries during a trainees missions are due to themselves or a member of the team being unprepared for a sudden growth spurt. On their part or on a teammates and so they all move out of sync. I’m also going to be rotating teams to ensure they can fit into other teams in case of emergencies with minimal friction.”

They’re good points and more so, it leaves Magnus aching with the knowledge that the reason Alec found this loophole is because of precedent.

What age was Alexander when he decided that he would change things?

That he had to change things so that it would be different for those under his protection.

Magnus knows Alexander isn’t perfect.

His darling is far from it and Magnus loves him viciously for it.

Alexander is raw with wounds from his childhood — or rather the lack of it — and ingrained prejudice still poisons the very base of his formative thoughts and yet he tries so very hard.

And yet all Magnus can think about is an Alexander, young and unable or perhaps even forbidden to speak up about his injuries as he forced himself to train.

Looking for praise or at the very least, reassurance and only being met with vitriol and bitterness.

Alexander may not be able to take these children to a park and push them on a swing until they think they’re about to fly, but he does right by them.

These children don’t need a bright plastic playground and pressing their noses against the glass of a captured ocean.

They need stability and protection and they need a Commander and leader willing to praise and acknowledge their efforts. They need someone who will remember their names and their accomplishments and — as Magnus listens to Alexander’s murmurs — who will know what they need.

Already Alexander is furthering a training plan, his mind nurturing strategies that will train these children to their very limit but not beyond — never beyond.

Alec will be a shield between them and the clave and perhaps even the expectations of their families until they are strong enough to do it on their own.

Magnus can already see the specializations that Alexander is considering for each child and how seriously he’s taking the fact that he’s responsible for not only their wellbeing, but their futures.

Competence is a beautiful look on Alexander and one he wears well.

[meirimerens]

how do i get into drawing more? i've enjoyed drawing since i was a child but i never really practiced it that much and as such most of my stuff is pretty rudimentary from a technique standpoint. i only have physical supplies and i cannot afford an ipad or a drawing pad any time soon

there is no need for an ipad or a tablet if you don't already draw something expansive you don't even have to worry about that. I (and i imagine many/most artists who began drawing young) got my start on normal paper sheets the one they call "printer paper" because it's thin and textureless. Actually that might be a lie because I think that even before that I was drawing on walls so truly full circle of a thing.

The only stuff you need to draw are something To Draw With, whether it be a pencil or a pen; if it is a pencil also have an eraser, a no-bullshit rectangular eraser, I've literally never understood what the good was in the pink & blue ones beyond making holes & stamps in them, just get a normal good eraser, slightly squishy so it doesn't pull at the paper like a maniac when you use; And paper to draw in. I'd say get a sketchbook for the convenience + the chill of it all. Doesn't even have to be thicker "drawing paper" it can just be a random, lineless notebook. I like mine to have a spiral spine so I can take full advantage of the page but don't even need that. Genuinely for years this was my drawing material (+ whatever paper I found, including my school supplies)

(Staedtler eraser very good actually I've been using it for 10yrs among the better I've used if you find it get yourself one. This shit was like 1.50€ at my local papeteries and then again they mightve inflated the price)

Now I'm gonna tell you about my life because I think it colors the way I approach drawing and as such the advice I'll give you: I started drawing really young (like pre-dates knowing how to read or write) and never stopped. That means I, technically, have some 20+ years of drawing, but I still struggle with what are kinda "fundamentals". I only quite late, technically speaking, gotten into trying my hand as perspective & naturalistic anatomy. That's because I had, at the start, nothing but passion.

And that's gonna be the one piece of advice I have for you:

Get really, really into something, and start trying like the devil to get good at drawing it.

When I was a wee lad I loved horses so much (and I still do.) and all I wanted to do was get good at drawing horses so I could draw stories with horses, so I practiced drawing horses from the horse magazines i had. Around 11, I got really into manga and all I wanted to do was get good at drawing manga so I could draw my own (a lot of my actually like Formative Years of drawing was manga, and I think it's still visible especially when I draw cartoony faces these days), so I practiced drawing manga from the how-to books their were at the library (and we had actually good ones, including Japanese mangaka's translated into french). Around 14, I got really into Video Game, and all I wanted to do was get real good at drawing the characters, so i practiced from youtube tutorials & other internet finds. Nowadays I'm into art history & archeology, and go out of my way to see and grasp and understand #whateverthiswas and try to pepper it (or sometimes dump the whole bag) in my images.

If you're starting "from nothing", I feel like practicing anatomy for the sake of anatomy (for example) will just piss you off. When you get more into the groove of things, and actually want to Get Serious, you'll sit down to Actually Practice, but I personally have always found that Learning for the Passionate Goal makes the whole thing more interesting than Learning To Learn To Then Attempt The Passionate Goal.

It's gonna suck for a while. It truly will. You'll see every improvement so drastic you'll be like ewww what was that 2 months ago. But you will HAVE HAD FUN DOING IT!!!

Tldr

1) get into something. Whatever it is.

2) collect tools and tutorial to serve whatever it is you're into, and not try to get into the tools: that will come later, once you're already in the habit of drawing.

3) you don't need fancy material

4) never underestimate the power of the humble ballpoint pen and clicky pencil

5) train your brain, the muscle of your brain, to conjure up images until there is nothing you can do BUT exteriorize them lest they poison you

6) you don't have to post anything online btw. In fact, I attribute the fact that I have always loved art so much to the fact that for the first 15yrs of my life I could truly just enjoy the process and vibe. I still do, don't take me wrong, and truly I draw for myself and you're all trapped in here with me. Looking at the slop i feed you. But there is an inherent, new dimension added with Being The Blogger. So have fun and vibe.

7) the heart is the horse, the hands are the rider

[r3dkn0ts]

I'm somewhat curious because everyone has their own perception of killers in dbd before they came into the realm. Out of all your faves (like Caleb, Tarhos, Billy ect..) do you think any of them are still....well virgins?? Most of them were either too focused on revenge and bloodshed to even think about ass or coochie (lookin right at you slinger also I LOVE UR BLOG SM)

I have other stuff in the drafts I'm working on atm ( do not worry followers! it will be posted! eventually! ) but Man this just. rattled my brain so hard that I had to start writing Immediately

I'm just gonna pick the guys you listed or else I'd be rambling way too much and also idk what the hell to categorize this as so ummmmm just putting it under the cut. I guess these are more like character studies than anything?

SEXUAL HEADCANONS FOR THE DBD KILLERS Featuring Caleb Quinn, Tarhos Kovács, and Max Thompson Jr.

Themes: Smut, smut, and a little bit of fluff at the end. Honestly, what did you expect? Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence

The Deathslinger / Caleb Quinn - I'd imagine Caleb is around his mid-to-late 60s ( if you don't think too hard about the time-fuckery that is the Entity's Realm ), so the man definitely has some years under his belt. - When it comes to sex, though, he might've fooled around with one or two folks in his younger days. Like most other cowpoke of his time, he didn't really care what gender he was laying down with. - Yes, I am saying that Caleb is pansexual. All cowboys are at least a little bit gay. I don't make the rules. - He definitely didn't see any action after nearly killing Bayshore and being stuck in a penitentiary for 15 years straight, that's for sure. - Plus, there's no good reason to be horny in a place like that. - That being said, he knows the basics and maybe a trick here or there, so he's not a total buffoon, but he's not a floozy either.

The Knight / Tarhos Kovács - Being taken from his home and put into slavery at such a young age, he didn't exactly have a normal childhood. - Tarhos didn't have the time to be concerned with anything remotely romantic or sexual, constantly going on campaigns with his men and killing everyone that stood in their way. - He would never admit it to anyone, even himself, but this man is so touch-starved and needy that just hugging him would probably give him a boner as stiff as his claymore. - Tarhos tries to ignore sexual urges until they go away, but that doesn't always work, so he might have to rub one out once in a while. He feels guilty about it every time. - Yeah, he's a virgin. No experience at all.

The Hillbilly / Max Thompson Jr. - Oh, this poor boy. We all know his story by now. It's pretty obvious that he never had any physical contact, much less that of a romantic or sexual nature. - Back in his time, television shows weren't nearly as scandalous as nowadays. There was no way of accessing pornographic material unless you got special magazines, which he of course never did. - Going through puberty, he would feel strange and uncomfortable, just trying to ignore the weird feelings he had. It made him want to crawl out of his own skin. - Those habits stuck with him into his adulthood, constantly fighting his own body and trying anything to get the strange feelings to go away. Eventually, he figured out that friction was the easiest method. - You could say he's "innocent", but I prefer "clueless". - If someone were to truly earn his trust and explain to him what erections, masturbation, and sex are, he'd get super flustered and cover his face in shame. - His first time would need to be slow and more of a tutorial than anything else. Dude's probably gonna cum as soon as a hand touches him. Just be patient.

[2000sangel]

Hi! I saw that you were paired with Adam and what it would be like in a relationship, so I wanted to try :)

☆Name: Pia.

☆Sexuality: Bisexual.

☆Personality: INFJ, I consider myself empathetic, kind, calm, creative, introverted and very sensitive. If someone comments on something I like, I talk non-stop.

☆Likes: animals and insects, I really love video games, especially those about history or decision making, reading horror books, cryptozoology, unsolved cases, the paranormal, I really love nature, I like comics, listening to metal and calm music, coffee, I like physical contact.

☆ Hobbies: Drawing would be my biggest hobby, I always draw anywhere, play video games, read.

☆Sorry if you don't understand, it's not my language.

Hi Pia!! Thank you so much for sending in one of these!  Been busy with writing that one long fic but now I can continue with a few of these :) Let’s see...

「✦Adam x You Headcanons✦」

: ̗̀➛Your calm and kind personality is beneficial for an asshole like Adam, to put it quite frankly. He needs to calm down a bit sometimes, and you’re the perfect individual to call in those occasions. The closer you two get, the less he acts in a typical Adam-esque manner, because he knows that you don’t particularly enjoy being the centre of attention and something he might say could hurt your feelings. When he’s with you, he simply dismisses annoying angels with a look of disapproval or he drags you away with one of his massive golden wings.

: ̗̀➛Adam loves physical contact! I would dare to say that he’s physical contact’s biggest fan. He loves giving it and receiving it all the same, though some times he might be more in the mood for one or the other. When you’re relaxing on the couch together, he likes you placing your legs on his lap, or if you’re the one sitting up he will put his head on your lap lazily and even fall asleep like that. When you’re in bed, especially if you’re planning to take an afternoon nap, he will spoon you with no doubts, covering your bodies with one of his wings during the colder months of the year. It’s quite sweet how even during summer he looks for physical contact, he will lie on the opposite side of the bed but still find a way to touch you with his wing or leg.

: ̗̀➛As a videogame lover, he knows a few titles that you might enjoy, but he gets bored quickly if he’s the one playing that kind of games. So what he likes to do is getting a snack as soon as you position yourself in front of your flat screen TV with your controller in hand, and watch you be smart as he chews on rib-flavoured chips or whatever weird food he’s gotten last time he went to do groceries without you. He asks quite a bit of questions, and even looks up tutorials for you if you need them, and sometimes he’ll act offended because he thought he had gotten it before you when the solution was something entirely different.

: ̗̀➛You take turns on what to watch before bed: videos about the paranormal and unsolved cases, or lives of his favourite streamers? Sometimes whatever you choose ends up being a bit long to watch all in one evening, so the other will lightly complain about having to continue on the next... he’s also a bit (a lot) self-centered, so sometimes he will look up videos that fans record of his own concerts, and tell you fun facts about what happened behind the scenes and if he and his band met some cool fans that night. You’re also in luck on that aspect, because one of his genres is metal!!

: ̗̀➛Heaven has got a bunch of beautiful places that Adam often takes you to, aware of your love for nature. He loves watching you sketch your surroundings, perhaps while the two of you are sat under a large tree or on a secluded bench. He thinks your drawings are beautiful, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you as you concentrate on which detail to add to your illustration next. Sometimes, you’ll act quite silly and ask him to bring you where there’s a lot of flowers so you can put some in his hair...or he’ll guide you to this gorgeous waterfall where angels can swim freely. He knows the best times of the day to go so you don’t find anyone else there, and you can enjoy a nice swim in company of only each other. Careful though, he might get playful and splash you with water with his wings...which are huge, so he’ll accidentally send a whole wave at you! (make sure to get revenge!)

[goldenstorm0]

Okay I am gonna talk about my first fountain pen, and my current grail pen that I'm always on the hunt but can never afford.

Both are the Parker 25

If you are new to vintage pens, you almost definitely heard of Parker, either the 51 or the duo fold. Both are excellent pens, I think. I have never used them before, but a lot of people love them. They are on my list of pens I want to get eventually, but they're kinda low. I'm looking for a different type of Parker.

When my grandparents were officially moved out of their house, my family started the long process of going through their stuff. We needed to sell the house so we could take care of them, and eventually pay for funerals. They were hoarders, and there was a lot to sort. A ton of bowling balls, a metric shit ton of yarn, even more trash. And hidden in all of this was a forgotten pen that I eventually found.

I think it was a gift from a bank that my grandma worked at for 20 years, and it was a shitty gift for that amount of work. The 25 was made to be a cheaper pen, made for young adults who may not of had enough money for one of the nicer models, but needed a reliable pen for work. I wouldn't be surprised if it was never used, but I had thrown away the box pretty much immediately and didn't care.

I've seen people describe this pen as robust or space-aged, but I always thought of it as more brutalist. Bare metal, black nib unit, steel nib. It's not a very inviting pen. The nib unit is hard to remove, or at least mine was, and you can't easily switch nibs. Not that you ever need to. It's a workhorse of a pen. Made to be used anywhere and everywhere. It was and still is Not my aesthetic. But I loved it.

It was my only fountain pen for years. I spent a lot of time first figuring out how to write with it, and then fiddling with it to make it write even better. I looked up tutorials on how to hold it, how to take care of it, figuring out how to fix a dry nib or a bent nib, how to take it apart, clean it, and put it back together. I found out the history behind the model, then the brand, and then I started looking into fountain pens in general. It started a new obsession, one that continues to this day.

And then I fucking broke it of course.

I had it in my pocket and it fell nib first. The nib itself was bent, but that was something I could fix. But unit itself snapped off from the threads that screwed the pen together. I couldn't fix that, and I'm pretty sure no one could fix that. I didn't bother looking though. I was 20, no job, living off of my parents and school grants while I went to community college. I couldn't afford to send it to anyone to fix it. If I couldn't do anything, then nothing would be done, because that cost money.

So I saved up and started looking around for a new part. Prices weren't great, something that's crazy annoying for what was originally intended to be a cheap ass pens. Eventually I found a set within my pittance of a budget, it even came with a roller ball (never touched). It was a complete pen, but I took it apart, pried the feed from nib unit, and put in the original still-bent nib in, and put it in the original scratched up body. They looked almost identical, but I wanted My Pen, not a new one.

It doesn't write the same. I don't think I have had a pen that wrote a beautifully as it original did, but that might be nostalgia talking. The nib is still bent. I got my first job soon after (yes I did spend grant money on a pen repair), and I started to buy more pens. Learned the basics of vintage pen repair, fixed up a few lever-fills, fucked up some vintage gold nibs when trying to practice grinding a tuning (never got really good at that). Instead of working on perfecting the one pen, I bought new ones that worked well enough.

But now I have a bit of a holy grail that I am looking for. Because, while the 25 is a cheap ass pen for broke college students, there is a particularly rare color. Same metal body, steel nib, but instead of black, it's bright orange. If the original black was outside my aesthetic, this is on the other side of the planet. I usually am not a fan of orange, and I super hate this specific shade. And I want it. Like, really really badly. I've seen several on sale, and currently don't see any on sale, and I am barred by my old nemesis, money.

And before I get that pen, I want to send my old 25 to a nibmeister. The nib is slightly bent and I don't think I can fix it, and it bothers me like nothing else. I need to do a bit of research first to make sure someone is willing to work on the nib, its pretty nonstandard.

credits:

moreengineering - They have a lot of info on the Parker 25 on their site, plus it's fun to just look around. Used for general information and this ridiculous photo

fuck you I want that how the FUCk

parkerpens - My go-to for everything Parker. You can fit so much info into this site. Used for general information

Pen Collect - They've got a really nice page for id-ing your parker 25. Mine is a mark II

Orange Parker 25 collage - YES I KNOW IT GOES TO A 404. There aren't a lot of good photos of the orange Parker. Its painfully rare

2nd orange Parker picture - Only other photo I could find that I liked. The has already sold and it just redirects you to lighters and pens. And if you try to search for it on their site, you just get wine. I am in... so much pain trying to find this goddamn pen. I hate it but I want it

[simping4villains]

As requested, here’s the fourth chapter of my latest Shiggy fic, Losing Streak. I update more regularly on Wattpad and ao3, so check there for more chapters! I’m also happy to take requests so dm me if you’ve got one <3

~~~~~

Warning: Sexual content, non-con elements

   You decided to skip the rest of your classes that day. It wasn't like you could've actually focused anyway. You received a few concerned replies from your professors after your initial email letting them know you'd be absent. It wasn't like you to miss a lecture.

   You laid in bed for the rest of the afternoon. You didn't even bother getting up to turn a light on once the sun had set, instead letting your bedroom remain dimly lit by the blue light of your phone as you aimlessly scrolled through social media. It was a pathetic attempt to try and distract yourself from what you'd be doing later that night.

   No matter how many hair tutorials and life hack videos you watched, you still couldn't shake the questions that bounced around inside your head. How did those photos come into existence? How could you stop them from being spread? And, most importantly, was there a way to do it without having to fuck Shigaraki?

   You weren't sure what was worse: the thought of having sex with him or the very real possibility that you might've done it already. That was what the photos led you to believe, anyway.

   A knock sounded at your door. You didn't respond, but Hana let herself in anyway.

   "You're still in bed? You should be getting ready."

   She was right. You had to leave soon. Though it wasn't like Shigaraki struck you as the kind of guy who'd care if you put any effort into your appearance or not. He had demanded a blowjob from you while you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, after all.

   "The guys are going to be here soon."

   You looked up at her, confused. "The guys?"

   "Oh my god. Don't tell me you forgot?"

   "What?"

   "The party? The one we're hosting in like twenty minutes?"

   "Party? I thought it was just the two teams coming over."

   "It is, but you know how the guys can get."'

   You did, which is exactly why you hadn't wanted them in your home in the first place. At least this meant your time with Shigaraki would have a silver lining—that you would have an excuse to miss all the 'fun.'

   "I won't be around tonight," you told her.

   "What? But when I asked the other day you said you were free. What are you doing?"

   "I'm supposed to meet up with Shigaraki."

   You hoped you'd said it casually enough that she'd connect a different set of dots and think the two of you were just studying. She took the bait.

   "On a Friday night? Just cancel! We have so much time left for those stupid projects anyway."

   "I can't. It's important."

   "More important than bonding with your team? Don't you want to make captain next year?"

   You did. Hana was a year above you, and before she graduated she'd be giving the coach her recommendation for who she thought should take her place. You couldn't imagine she'd recommend anyone but you—she knew how strong your work ethic was—still, her frustration was palpable.

   You bit your cheek, wondering how lenient Shigaraki might be. "I mean, I can ask him if he's alright with rescheduling."

   "Let me know what he says," she called over her shoulder as she left, closing your door again.

   You pulled up your conversation with him on your phone.

You: "Hey, I forgot I have a team thing tonight. . ."

   His response was immediate.

Shigaraki: "Skip it."

You: "Can't we just reschedule?"

Shigaraki: "I don't like to be kept waiting."

You: "What's one more day?"

Shigaraki: "What's 5,000 people seeing your tits?"

You: "Fine."

Shigaraki: "Don't be late."

   You wanted to push back and write 'Or what?' but you worried he'd take it as a challenge to make your night hell. So instead, you rolled out of bed, grabbed your bag, and headed downstairs. Hana, Akiko, and your other roommate, Jin, were all in the living room, dressed in their usual party attire of ripped jeans and crop tops. They were pulling out packages of red solo cups and setting up a beer pong table.

   "That doesn't look like a party outfit," Jin joked as she saw you.

   You hadn't bothered changing or anything. You were still in the same hoodie and sweatpants you'd thrown on in a rush that morning.

   Hana looked up at you and frowned. "I'm guessing this means you couldn't get out of it?"

   You nodded.

   "Wait, what?" Akiko asked, looking between the two of you. "Are you skipping out on tonight?"

   "Yeah, sorry."

   Hana turned to her. "She's ditching us for a boy."

   Akiko gasped. "No way! Y/n never dates! Who is it?"

   You rolled your eyes. "It's not like that at all."

   "It's Shigaraki," Hana said.

   Akiko's expression fell, going from excited to horrified in seconds.

   "We're just doing homework," you assured her. "It's not like I want to hang out with him."

   Hana shrugged. "Then don't."

   "Come on, cut her some slack," Jin said. "You know how she is about grades. Besides, I'm sure she already feels bad enough just missing out on the party."

   Honestly, you were glad to miss the party, and you had a feeling that Jin could tell, but you appreciated her sticking up for you nonetheless.

   "Well, there's always the next one," Hana conceded. "Don't work too hard."

   "Thanks," you smiled. "Have fun tonight. Tell the team I said 'hey.'"

   "Will do," she smiled back.

   They waved you off and you began your funeral march across campus. You shrugged against the chill of the air, once again having forgotten to grab your jacket on your way out of the house. At least earlier the sun had been out to help a bit, but it had set hours ago. You hated how short the days were in the fall.

   The address Shigaraki had given you was for an apartment building kind of down the block from the pub you'd stopped at the night before. You were a bit worried you wouldn't make it in time, but you knocked on his door with seven minutes to spare. To your surprise, he wasn't the one to answer. It was another boy with acne-scarred skin and spiky pink hair that pointed every which way.

   "Oh, sorry. I think I must have the wrong address."

   He looked at you with disbelief. "Are you Y/n?"

   "Yes."

   "Shiggs, she's here!" He called over his shoulder before stepping aside and gesturing for you to come in. Hesitantly, you did. "He's gaming, but you can just go in. His room is down there on the right." He pointed toward the end of the hallway.

   "Thanks."

   You followed his directions to Shigaraki's door. No response came when you knocked. Feeling uncertain, you looked back at the other boy to find him nodding and gesturing for you to go in.

   Taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you turned the knob. Immediately, you were met with a distinct smell—it was that of a typical college boy's dorm, only ten times worse. The air in the room felt incredibly stale and almost muggy. Shigaraki didn't look up when you came in. Like the other boy had said, he was busy gaming.

   "Hey," you greeted, shutting the door behind you.

   "Hey," he mumbled in response, not bothering to peel his eyes from the screen. "Gonna be a sec."

   You frowned. It pissed you off that he'd made such a fuss about you being on time, but here he was making you wait around. You threw your bag down and moved to stand next to him, crossing your arms over your chest. "You know you picked the time I was supposed to get here, right?"

   "I wasn't sure you'd actually show."

   You scoffed. "As if you gave me a choice."

   "Just have a seat. I'm almost done."

   You looked around the room for a spot to sit while you waited for him to finish. The only source of light was his computer screen, but even that was enough for you to be able to tell that his bedroom was an absolute mess. There were empty cans and piles of dirty clothes strewn about. Not only was his bed unmade, but it didn't even seem to have a sheet on it from what you could tell. Unless you felt like clearing a spot on the floor, there was nowhere to sit.

   "Uh, do you have an extra chair?"

   He didn't answer, just wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. You yelped as you crashed into him.

   "Relax. You're fine. No need to be so dramatic."

   "This isn't what I meant when I asked for a chair, you know."

   "Yeah, I know," He replied casually, resting his head on your shoulder so that he could see the screen. "But isn't this more comfortable?"

   "No, it's not," you insisted, shifting to keep his knees from jabbing into your thighs.

   His breath hitched. "Mm maybe don't move around too much."

   You froze, panicking as you realized that it you could feel his cock getting harder beneath you.

   He couldn't help but smirk when he felt you stiffen. He loved getting to watch you squirm when you were uncomfortable. It was cute seeing you all flustered. To add to it, he leaned in and whispered, "Unless you're trying to start something. Which, in that case. . ."

   Pausing his game, he snaked one of his hands underneath your sweatshirt. When he reached your chest he snorted. "No bra? Damn, you really did want this, huh?"

   "No, I didn't!" you snapped. "I was just in a rush."

   The first time. Why hadn't you put one on before leaving that night though? You'd had all day. Maybe you figured there was no point. Deep down, you knew where the night was headed.

   He started kneading your chest. "This whole time I thought you were some uptight bitch, but really you love being treated like a little slut."

   "No, I do—ah!"

   He pinched one of your nipples.

   "Oh, you liked that?"

   You did, but you would absolutely never admit that to him. You shook your head.

   "Really? I don't believe you."

   He started rolling the sensitive bud between the tips of his fingers. You bit your tongue, trying to choke back a moan.

   "Come on, no need to hold back for me."

   His other hand reached up to your jaw, gripping it in a way that forced it open. You couldn't help the breathy moan that escaped as his fingers kept working your chest.

   He snickered. "I knew it."

   You hated him so much, but not as much as you hated your own body for actually enjoying what he was doing to you. Despite how much you tried to fight it, heat was quickly building between your legs as if you really did want him to be touching you like that. You couldn't let him think he was right about you.

   He shifted his legs so that one of them was wedged between yours. You knew what he wanted you to do before he even said it. "Ride."

   "W-What? No!"

   He yanked your head back by your hair so that he spoke directly in your ear. "I'm sorry, did it sound like a request? Fucking do it."

   Timidly, you rocked your hips. You couldn't stand the way your body welcomed the friction, taking pleasure in it.

   "Don't stop until you come," he said.

   It was meant to be humiliating. He wanted to break you down and make you feel worthless. So then why were you enjoying it so much? Each time your clothed cunt dragged against him felt like ecstasy—like your body was being given exactly what it needed.

   "That's it," he encouraged as another moan escaped you.

   His mouth found its way to your neck. The rough friction of his lips caused you to shiver. Of course, it didn't go unnoticed by Shigaraki. You could feel him smirking against your skin before he latched onto you, sucking a bruise just above your collar bone. He let go with a 'pop' and pulled away to admire his work, humming in satisfaction.

   "I'm going to mark you up so that everyone knows you're mine."

   "I'm n-not," you protested weakly, barely able to get the words past another moan.

   He only laughed at you. "Are you joking? Look at the way you're falling apart on my thigh. Are you telling me that you act like this for just anyone?"

   The truth was, he was right. The sex you'd had in the past was pretty vanilla. You wouldn't normally be taking orders and humiliating yourself the way you were now, and you'd never been this close to coming with someone else—So. Fucking. Close.—but it's not like it was because of him. You were the one doing all of the work, after all.

   "I asked you a question," he growled, grabbing your hair in a threat to pull again.

   "I—ngh—" You were seconds away from coming undone. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were anywhere but in Shigaraki's bedroom, using him to get off.

   "Oh my god. Are you coming?" He asked, suddenly excited. "Are you actually fucking coming right now?"

   "Shut up."

   Even with your eyes closed, you could tell he didn't like that response. He grabbed your jaw, prying it open so he could shove his fingers in your mouth. You weren't sure if he wanted you to suck on them or if he just wanted to teach you a lesson for talking back, but either way, you bit them as you came. Surprisingly, he didn't complain.

   Before you had a chance to come back to earth, he told you to turn around. You didn't want to, but obeyed. He shifted so that you were straddling him. In this position, you could feel how hard he was. It made your stomach churn anxiously as you wondered how he'd make you deal with that.

   He moved his hand between the two of you, reaching to slide it under the waistband of your sweatpants. Your immediate reaction was to try to stop him. You grabbed his wrist, which only earned you a warning glare.

   You had to play by his rules if you wanted to save your reputation.

   You let go, feeling even more nauseous than before as his spindly fingers dipped under your panties, coming into contact with your clit. You drew in a sharp breath. You were still so sensitive.

   You hated the grin that spread across his face. "You really are a slut after all, huh? You're fucking soaked."

   You couldn't even respond because you were too busy proving his point, moaning as his fingers explored your folds, curling inside of you. Your hands found their way to his hair, lightly tugging as if begging for more. God, you'd never hated yourself so much in your life.

   His eyes watched your every reaction as his fingers explored deeper, dragging over that spot that made your brows knit together each time he pulled them out. He'd never really thought about kissing anyone until he met you—until you fell so perfectly into his lap. And here you were now, practically writhing from his every touch, not daring to refuse him. So why was he so nervous?

   You tugged at his hair again—god, he loved when you did that—and he decided that it meant you were trying to pull him closer. It meant that you wanted him. So, he closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you.

   It was sloppy. He didn't really know what he was doing and you didn't seem particularly interested in kissing back. He decided you were probably too distracted by what his hands were doing to actually try. He'd started hitting that spot your liked more aggressively. He wanted to be the one to make you come, to watch as you unraveled at his touch, and he could tell it was working. He kissed you deeper as he felt your walls starting to clench, happily swallowing your moans as they entered his mouth. For a moment it felt like maybe you had kissed him back, but he could have been imagining it.

   He pulled away so he could look at you. Your eyes were still closed and your breathing was heavy. A sense of pride bubbled in his chest knowing he'd actually managed to make you feel good.

   Maybe he wasn't such a hopeless virgin after all.

   You opened your eyes again to find him staring at you with wonder, like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever seen. Like you were something to be had. You were worried he was going to try to kiss you again, but instead he opened his mouth, tugged at your waistband, and said the last thing you wanted to hear.

   "Take these off so I can fuck you already."

[devilscreekballad]

Anything worth doing is hard. I've used AI to "assist" coding at work and it generally looks like this:

1) generate code with ai

2) spend hours trying to make it work with the existing codebase in the desired way.

2.5) it doesn't work. One time it broke the code more.

3) scrap it all and write it from scratch in 30 minutes. It works perfectly.

AI does not further personal understanding of code, and it is generally faster to write it myself anyway.

I'm not sure why IF authors are being slammed by AI propaganda, but power to you all for taking the time to rubber ducky your way to success :).

If I were one to spin conspiracy theories I'd say AIbros/bots are spamming pages like tumblr to get the algorithm to believe people are interested in that nonsense, as only recently the news broke that openai is (going) bankrupt if they don't find massive new investors soon.

Might be correlation might be causation, who knows.

As for your experience: you can have that in half the time without AI by using code from a tutorial/coding forum and find out 15 min later the code's outdated. :3

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

Rated E for Elden Ring

So this was a funny little silly idea that somehow turned into a 6000+ word monster.  Don’t ask me how.  It is set in my Twitch AU or Gamer AU, where Ava is a Twitch streamer and Lilith is a lawyer.  They live together and are in love.  This originated from a small writing prompt about a month ago that you can read here, and I just got inspiration to expand on it.  Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated: E for Elden Ring (officially made this the title hehe)

//////

It was supposed to be a surprise.  That’s what you had planned for.  And you really did.  Plan, that is.  You thought of everything.  You picked out the day almost two weeks in advance, you changed your stream schedule accordingly so you would have most of the night free, you even covertly snuck peeks at Lilith’s work calendar to make sure the timing was right.  You did your research while she was away at the courthouse.  You hovered around the front door of your apartment building like a creep to intercept the package and hide it before she got home.  You even sacrificed your practice time with the new COD game to watch literal hours of tutorial videos to make sure you wouldn’t mess it up.  You did everything, all for her.

Lilith’s caseload had been driving her to exhaustion for the past month.  Her schedule had been packed wall-to-wall with difficult court battle after difficult court battle, and it showed no sign of easing up any time soon.  Being the most well-regarded civil attorney in the city had many advantages, but the price she paid to do it often seemed just as high.

You could tell that the stress was slowly wearing her down to the bone.  She was accustomed to working long hours, but this was excessive.  There were days where you barely saw her because she would leave for early meetings and not get back until you were getting into bed.  She was bristly by nature, but as the weeks wore on, she was becoming downright moody, grumbling and growling at the smallest inconveniences.  Three days ago, you caught her slapping the printer around when it had the audacity to jam.

It was all getting to be too much, and you wanted to try to help before it could get any worse.  But it was a tall order to fill, and for a while you weren't sure that you could do it.  You weren't a lawyer, and quite frankly you didn't know shit about laws and courts and whatever, so it's not like you could make her actual job easier.  You had briefly entertained a fantasy of breaking into the courtroom MGS-style and rearranging all of their schedules, but that was as far as you went down that avenue.  No, if you were going to pull this off, you'd have to utilize your own special set of skills.

You knew a large part of Lilith’s frustration was sexual.  It had already been a week since the last time you both had the energy and time to do anything, and for two highly physical people, one week of blue balls was tantamount to torture.  (You were feeling it too.  Your vibrator had seen more use in the past four days than it had since you started dating.)  So, you figured the best way to help her cool off was to, paradoxically, spend an entire evening having really, really hot sex.  Thus, the seed of your eventual plan was born.

Lilith wasn’t one for big gifts or grand gestures.  You suspected that any fondness she might have had for them was long ago drained out of her by her family.  This wasn’t really big or grand, but you put time into it, and you made your decisions with her in mind, so you thought she would appreciate it more.

Your grand scheme was this: Lilith was supposed to get home around 5, the earliest she's been able to manage in weeks, and you were going to be ready.  You had made the arduous trek to the nearest liquor store to find a bottle of her favorite wine and shelled out a tear-jerking amount of money to buy it.  When she got home, you would present her with a glass and coax her into relaxing on your couch while you went to do your stream.  Then, half-way through your stream, you would place an order out to the Lebanese place down the street to show up around when you finished.  Finally, when the stream was done and you were able to lure her in with delicious takeout, you would reveal your surprise.

That last part proved to be the most difficult, which you probably should have expected.  Even now, with thirty minutes to spare, you couldn’t resist peeking down your t-shirt to make sure the configurations you had painstakingly labored over were still holding up.

Who knew there were so many types of bondage ribbons?  Okay sike, you did, because this idea didn’t spring fully-formed from your brain meat on a whim.  What you didn’t know was just how many ways they could be used.  There was legit, like, a whole-ass art form about it  Your research had led you down a somewhat dizzying rabbit hole of bondage 101 and shibari tutorial sites, deep enough to have you sounding out terms like "loop chain", "gote", and "hishi karada".  You knew you wanted something you could hide under your clothes, and within that parameter alone there were almost too many options to choose from.  You settled on one that looked elaborate but that the tutorials promised would be easier than most: the diamond hishi karada.  This tie would see lines of silk criss cross along the whole of your torso and back, framing your tits, looping low around your neck, and forming a lattice that would hold securely for as long as you needed it to.

Once you decided on the tie, you picked out the ribbon.  Lilith was reticent by nature, and often kept her thoughts and feelings thoroughly closed off to others, but there were some things even she couldn’t hide from an observant eye.  One was that she was kind of obsessed with fine fabrics, the nicer the better.  When you first started dating seriously, she was quick to lavish you with gifts of expensive clothes, silks and cashmeres selected by hand and meticulously tested for quality before she brought them home.  (The very first time she did this was one of your favorite memories of her.  She showed up at your shitty studio apartment with a glare so focused and serious that you thought she was breaking up with you two weeks into your relationship.  Imagine your surprise when instead she stiffly presented you with a box from one of the most bougie boutiques in the city.  She was so serious about it that you couldn’t help but laugh at how severe her face was as she gave it to you.  You teased her about terrifying some poor shop girl before kissing the responding scowl right off her face.)

The second thing she couldn’t hide was her favorite color.  It showed up in little ways in her wardrobe, and around her space.  It was always just a touch, an accent, nothing that could ever be called overwhelming or garish, but you were quick to cotton on to it.  Lilith loved blue.  All kinds, but especially darker shades like navy and midnight.  It was evident if you knew what to look for, and therefore obvious to you since you made a hobby of watching everything your girlfriend said and did.  A blue blouse tucked neatly inside a neutral gray blazer, sleek silver jewelry crusted in tiny sapphires, an indigo phone case and small pieces of furniture, never larger than a lamp or the cushion of a chair.  Lilith was taught to restrain herself in every aspect of her life.  That was apparent almost from the moment you met her.  But she couldn’t suppress everything, and you had been working very carefully over the past year and a half to coax her into expressing more her tastes and interests.

So with that in mind, picking the ribbon was pretty easy.  You took some haphazard measurements of your body in order to select the right length, and you researched what kind of fabric would be strong enough for the activities you wanted it for.  The guides you read suggested silk (and boy, was it not cheap), so you found the brand with the right colors and the best reviews and paid to have it shipped as quickly as possible.

Now, you were here, finally triumphant after laboring intensely to tie the knots correctly and make the lattice fit comfortably on your body.  With fifteen minutes left, you busied yourself by doing a very cursory clean of the apartment before getting out a glass and opening up the wine.

This was where you made a mistake, however.  You had never been very good at patience or waiting around when you knew something was about to happen.  You were restless and fidgety by nature, and you would inevitably look for anything to occupy yourself with.  In this instance, that meant turning on some tunes with your mini speaker and dancing around the kitchen while you waited for Lilith to get home.  As a result, you didn’t actually hear her when she came in, and you only realized she was there when she put a hand on your arm out of nowhere while you were pouring the wine into her glass.

“Shit!” You yelped, spinning around without thinking, the mostly full glass still clutched in your hand.  You managed to avoid barreling right into her, but there was nothing you could do to stop the ruby-colored liquid from splashing out of its container and directly onto the front of her work suit.  “Babe, I… shit, you startled me!”

Lilith was silent, looking down at the wet mess you’ve just made of her clothes.  You saw her jaw tense, watched it tick to the side a bit as if she was grinding her teeth.  And then, she sighed sharply.  “Ava.”  She pressed her lips together in a tight line, looking like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it.  “No, it’s fine.”  She straightened up and started shrugging off her coat with stiff shoulders.

“Babe?” You asked tentatively, setting the treacherous glass on the table and taking a careful step toward her.  “I’m sorry…  I didn’t hear you come in.”

She nodded shortly.  “It’s fine, Ava.  The fabric is dark, it’ll wash out.”  The very obvious tension in her frame told you it was not, in fact, fine, but you were at a loss for what to do about it.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, watching her mouth twist angrily at the question.  “I-I mean, how was work?”

“Shit, like always,” she growled, grabbing the buttons of her blouse to undo it with rough movements.  You stayed where you were, not touching her just yet when she was so clearly upset and trying to contain it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she bit out, and then stopped.  She finished unbuttoning her shirt and let her hands drop loosely to her side, all while shutting her eyes tight and taking several deep breaths.  You waited, letting her regain herself the way she preferred to.  When she opened her eyes again, she looked calmer, but her attention dropped down to you; or rather, your shirt.  “There’s some on you,” she said, reaching out and ghosting her fingers over a spot on your abdomen.

You looked down and realized she was right.  While it wasn’t the theme park splash zone you’d just made of her clothes, there was still a decently-sized stain there.  “Crap,” you hissed and, without thinking, pulled up your shirt to get a better look at it, oblivious to Lilith’s eyes watching you like a hawk.  “This stuff comes out with peroxide, right?  Aren’t you supposed to mix it with the detergent—?”

“What’s that?”  You looked back up at her, only to find her eyes locked on your belly.  Oh.

“Oh, uh…”  Blushing hard, you tried to shove your shirt back in place.  “Uh, it’s nothing.”  Your efforts were thwarted, however, by her hands shooting out and catching yours before you could re-hide what you had inadvertently revealed.  Biting your lip, you let go, allowing her to lift your shirt back up again, baring the lower half of the ribbon tie to her inspection.  She just stared at it.  You could see her eyes following the many criss-crossing lines, seeing how they framed your stomach, stretched around to your back, and climbed further up your chest where the shirt still concealed them.

She was completely fixated.  You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, only that the gears of her brain were spinning like crazy.  You decided to just come clean, as clearly there would be no salvaging your initial plan of action.  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” you explained lamely.  “I was going to show you after my stream, but uh, well…” You smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing the back of your neck.  “Surprise?”

Lilith looked back up at you but didn’t say anything for a long moment.  Her fingers twitched against your waist, the pads pressing into your ribs.  Her eyes slowly dropped again, tracing a path back down to your belly that you swore you could feel like a laser on your skin.  With one hand holding you in place, she ran her middle and index fingers along the length of the deep blue silk, following the groove of it up your body and stopping just below where your shirt had ridden up.  She looked up again, wordlessly asking for permission.  When you nodded, licking your lips, she delicately lifted your t-shirt up over your breasts.

“This is for me?” She asked, voice quiet and accented with awe.  She caressed the elaborate lattice with her fingertips, so lightly that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching her every move.  She touched the knot at the center of your chest and pressed it against your sternum, provoking a shiver from you that had you leaning forward into her hand.  Her eyes were on yours again, and they were full of dark fire, raging with an entirely different emotion from the one she started with.  She covered the knot with her open palm while she used her other arm to pull you in close.  “You said you have a stream tonight?”

Lilith’s voice was painfully sexy in normal circumstances, but the raw desire in her tone was enough to make your knees shake.  “Y-yeah.  It’s not long, just a couple hours.  I… I could cancel.  It’s not a big deal.”  Please tell me to cancel, please tell me to cancel, please, please, please…

The corners of her mouth quirked into a crooked smile while you watched with captive fascination.  “I have a better idea,” she said, pressing that crooked mouth right up against your ear.  What she whispered to you then, hot and hungry and smug, made you flush pink from head to toe.  “Yes, Aves?”  She asked, smirking against your cheek, already knowing what answer you would give.

“Yes,” you whimpered.  “Yes, please.”

“Good girl,” she purred, stroking the ribbons again, making you whine.   She took a small amount of pity on you and pulled you in for a kiss.  It was slow and wanton and sweet, paradoxically letting you regain your composure while making you dizzy all over again.  When you broke apart, she said, “I need to get changed, and you need to get ready for your viewers.”  She pulled your shirt back down and rearranged it so the ribbons were fully hidden once again.  It was an oddly gentlemanly move, given the situation, but that’s just how Lilith was.  She pecked you once on the forehead before retreating to the bedroom, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen with a half-spilled glass of wine, a stained shirt, and panties you would definitely be throwing out by night’s end.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

“Yo-yo-yo, what’s up, nerds?  It’s ya girl Ava back again with Elden Ring!”  Jesus Christ, why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?   Stupid, horny brain.  Stupid, beautiful girlfriend.  “And guess what, peeps, we’ve got company tonight.  Chat, say hi to Lilith!  Lilith, say hi to Chat!”  Lilith was a solid presence against your back.  She was sitting in your gamer chair like she belonged there, lounging on it with you in her lap, held there securely by a single strong arm.

“Hello, chat persons,” she greeted coolly.  Immediately you saw the chat explode with excited messages, a mix of greetings and exclamations.  Your long-time fans greeted her with familiarity and spammed the feed with bat emojis, while your newer fans sent swarms of questions which were all some variation of “Whoa, is that your girlfriend????  She’s so hot!!!! 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀” or “You have a girlfriend??? Lmaoooooooo, no way, loser 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡”.  You could practically feel her smirking at these comments while the game’s menu theme started to play.  Her fingers skated evilly along the hem of your freshly chosen shirt, pausing occasionally to tug on the ribbons until they snapped lightly against your stomach.  You tried to distract yourself from this by bantering with chat, but there was nothing in the world strong enough to divert your attention from what was going on between your legs.

Because what the chat couldn’t see, what you had carefully positioned the camera to conceal, was your lower half.  More specifically, the apex of your thighs, where you were being stretched open by Lilith’s dick, practically staked on it while you soaked her boxers with your arousal.  Evil girlfriend.  Evil.  It was one of your biggest ones too, indigo blue and thick as all hell.  It didn’t see much use compared to some of your others, but when Lilith sauntered out of the bedroom holding it while looking at you like a mouse she wanted to devour, how were you supposed to say no?

The fullness was so much, too much.  You were struggling just to form complex thoughts let alone competently play a video game.  You had no idea how you were going to manage Elden Ring’s difficulty while also refraining from fucking yourself to completion in front of hundreds of people.

You did your best, practicing deep breathing exercises to keep your body relaxed while you loaded up your save and responded to messages.  Your Tarnished stood up from the Site of Grace you paused at last time, deep in the Altus Plateau, and you milled about checking your inventory for a minute while Lilith rubbed idle circles beneath your belly button.  Her muscular thighs were spread wide, keeping your legs open, and you had to make a conscious effort not to glance repeatedly at where your slickness was dribbling down between them.  At your insistence, there was a towel there to contain the mess (because you paid good money for this chair and you were not about to ruin it) but you knew that if you looked, it would only make things worse.

In the interest of self-preservation, you tasked Lilith with keeping an eye on the chat while you played.  It wasn’t much of a defense, as your girlfriend was unfortunately a very good multitasker, but it was better than letting her have total free reign to torment you as she pleased.  If only your own body would behave itself too, you might just get through this stream without incident.

You summoned Torrent and set off in the direction of Volcano Manor, intent on starting the dungeon there and taking on the Godskin Noble and possibly Rykard if you got far enough.  Along the way, you also figured you would try to take out the Ulcerated Tree Spirit on Mt. Gelmir to level up a bit.  This was where the problems started to occur, because Ulcerated Tree Spirits were a shitfucking, goddamn, bitch and a half to fight when you didn’t have a massive sex toy sitting in your cunt, and now that you did, well…  To say that your performance was lacking was a bit of an understatement.  By your third death, Lilith didn’t feel like holding her tongue anymore, and chose instead to mercilessly tease you.

“I see now why you’ve been cursing so much recently,” she gently mocked, earning a flurry of agreement and 💯💯💯💯💯 from the chat.  Then, when she snapped the ribbon against your skin and made you miss a very easy charged attack, she asked, “Why do you insist on using such a large weapon?  Wouldn’t it be safer to fight from range?”

“Well, duh, it would be safer,” you snarked back.  “But you’re not supposed to play these games safe.  You’re supposed to get the biggest weapon you can find and swing it at them until they’re dead or you’re dead.”

“I see.”  After two more failed attempts, you finally managed to kill the bastard, taking your runes immediately to the nearest Site of Grace to put them to use.  While you argued with chat about the merits of Strength/Faith vs. Dex/Int builds (Strength/Faith was superior, obviously), Lilith must have decided that things were too peaceful, because she chose that very moment to start rubbing her middle finger along the side of your clit.  You bit your cheek nearly hard enough to bleed to stop your treatise on greatshields from ending with a comically loud gasp.  She didn’t let up, stroking slow, torturous circles against you and occasionally dipping down to playfully frame the space where your pussy and her cock met.  She kept doing this, heedless of your fingers leaving nail marks on her knee, all while the towel beneath the both of you developed an increasingly large, dark stain.

Only when you were on the verge of insanity, bucking into her touch and riding Torrent into the stomp attack of a troll, did she show you mercy.  She withdrew her hand and wrapped both arms around you to still your canting hips, all while she rested her chin on your shoulder.

The chat was bumping, but even with the high traffic, you still managed to catch messages now and then saying stuff like “You guys are so cute 😍😍😍” and sometimes more nerve-wracking things like “Why does Lilith look like a dragon hoarding treasure? 🤔🐉”.  You did your best to ignore them and the warmth of your girlfriend’s body as you pushed on and finally made it to the start of the Volcano Manor dungeon.  You didn’t think you would get to Rykard or the Godskin Noble today, but you wanted to at least make significant progress in the dungeon before calling it a night, so that’s what you set out to do for the rest of the stream.

After two hours of playing (two hours of torture) consisting mostly of you fucking up and getting lovingly owned in chat for it, you wound the stream down and said goodbye to your viewers.  Lilith even offered them a stoic and detached good night, prompting a flood of “Good Night, Lilith!!!! 🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌” messages in response.  And she waited patiently for you to close everything up before speaking again.

“Is your camera completely off?” She asked, while her nails teased the skin of your ribcage over your shirt.  You bit your lip hard and nodded, even going through the motions of double checking that all of your recording equipment was shut off while she watched.  “Good.”

She moved without warning, shifting forward until both her feet were planted on the floor and then pushing you both up off the chair with nothing but her legs.  You yelped in surprise as you unexpectedly fell forward, catching yourself on the desk while your pussy convulsed around her huge dick.  She caught you by the hips to steady you, rubbing soothing circles into them and humming apologetically for the sudden change of position.  

“Alright, Aves?” She asked, leaning forward to brace herself over your back.  You nodded, but then whined pathetically when she tested your honesty with a push of her hips.  “Use your words.”

“Mm, I-I’m good,” you managed to stammer.  “You just surprised me.”

She hummed again.  “One good surprise deserves another, don’t you think?”  As she spoke, her hands slipped under your shirt and tangled themselves in lines of silk.

“I can take my shirt off,” you offered, trying not to shiver too much at the feeling.

In the dark reflection of your computer screen, you saw Lilith shake her head.  “No, this is good.”

She clearly had you exactly where she wanted you, but you tried to regain a little bit of the upper hand with a joke.  “You know, the point was for you to unwrap them.”  All you get in response is a firm smack on the ass.

“You’re my present, aren’t you?”  Her tone was imperious.  “I’ll unwrap you when I like.  Right now I want you like this.”  One of her hands traced a searing path over your ribs and onto your back.  She picked a spot between your shoulder blades where the lines of ribbon crossed and dug her fingers in there, taking such a firm hold that the silk was pulled taut against your tits.  Her other hand landed on your ass again, possessively palming the pink spot where she smacked you.

“Do you think any of your fans guessed what we were doing?”  She prompted, pressing her hips flush against you so the toy was buried up to the hilt.  “Do you think they realized what a little slut their idol is?”

“Y… your slut,” you moaned, pushing your ass back on her.  In the reflection, you could see the look of delight that took over her features.

“Mmhm, my slut,” she agreed, slowly pulling herself out of your cunt until only the tip lingered inside you.  Just as slowly, she pushed back in, ending the thrust with a burst of extra force that made you whine.  She did it again, using her grip on your back like a harness to pull you down onto her cock.  “When did you come up with this idea?”  You didn’t immediately respond, too caught in the maelstrom of sensations, and her free hand smacked you again.  “Answer me, Ava.”

“Ten days ago,” you whimpered, unashamed by the way you arched into her commanding touch.

“Ten days?”  She sounded genuinely surprised, even a little confused.  “How did you know I would be free?”

“I looked at your work calendar while you were gone,” you admitted.  “You didn’t have any extra meetings scheduled tonight, and I kept checking it to be sure.”

“Sneaky girl."  She started moving at a slow, teasing pace, carefully coaxing your muscles to adjust to the girth of the strap.  “Is that why you planned your stream this early?”

You nod.  “So we could, mmf, so we could have the night together.”  You ducked your head down so she wouldn’t see your face flush.  “That’s why I got the wine.”

“I was curious about that,” she said.  “You don’t like red.”  Her free hand was back to petting your hip while she maintained her hold on you from above.

“It’s, fuck, it’s not that I don’t,” you protested.  “It’s just not my favorite.  I can barely drink as it is, so I have to be picky.”  Because polyneuropathy is a fucking bitch.

She hummed again, thoughtfully.  “And how long did it take to learn how to do this?”  She asked, indicating the ribbons by yanking on them again.

“Four hours,” you admitted, the words trailing off into a whimper as your whole body was rocked against the desk by a powerful thrust.  You probably should have moved the towel to the floor, because you were positive that you were starting to drip onto the hardwood.

“All that just for me?”  The quiet awe from before was back.

You nodded fervently.  “All for you.”  Then, because the air felt a little bit too heavy, you added, “The knots were hard as shit to learn.”

She cooed sympathetically, but you could see her smirk turn devilish.  “Then it’s good you’ll be getting plenty of practice now.”

You shivered, a flurry of images from the tutorial videos swirling around your head like cartoon stars.  “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” she purred.  “You went to all this effort.  It would be a shame to let your new skills go to waste.”  Her hips started pushing harder, increasing their speed by mere degrees but burying her cock inside you with new intensity.  “You’ll wear it under your clothes again,” she told you, commanding you more like.  “You’ll be tied up all pretty while you entertain those enthusiastic little cretins on your livestream.”  Her free hand traveled up your body to grab a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up until you were staring into the blank computer screen.  “They’ll watch you for hours, and never suspect a thing.  And the entire time, you’ll be thinking about me, and about this.”

You keened, shaking under her hands while she fucked you deep and hard.  “I always am,” you panted.  “Thinking about you.”

“Sweet girl,” she crooned.  “My perfect little slut.”  Her words ended on a rough grunt as she started grinding against your ass, revealing how affected she truly was by all this.  “I love fucking you this way.  Why didn’t we think of this before?”  She let your hair go so her hand could drop onto the desk on top of yours.  She twined your fingers together as she braced herself above your back.  She started moving faster, her other hand moving from your back to one of your tits, long fingers tugging harshly at your nipple.  The sounds of sex were becoming overpowering, echoing off the walls and making you extremely grateful that this apartment complex actually gave a shit about their wall insulation.  “You’re so wet, Aves.  Two hours I spent feeling you soak my lap, and somehow there’s still more?”

“Your fault,” you pointed out breathlessly.  “You wouldn’t stop teasing me.”

“You liked it.”

“My Tarnished didn’t like it.”

“What’s that term you're so fond of?  Sounds like a ‘skill issue’?”  She mocked, grinning right against your ear.  You huffed, craning your neck to the side so you could shut her up by shoving your tongue down her throat.  She allowed this, but retaliated smoothly by sliding her fingers back down to your clit.  You were unable to keep the kiss going after that, breaking off with another helpless gasp.  If she wasn’t actively turning your brain to mush, you would feel aggrieved at how effortlessly she played with your body and how easily you bent to her whims.  As it was, however, your brain was thoroughly mush-ified, and thus it had other priorities.

“Fuck, baby, please,” you begged, shutting your eyes tight while your face burned.

“Please?  Please what?”  Instead of doing the kind and reasonable thing of just giving you what you very obviously wanted, she did the opposite.  She slowed everything down to a standstill, holding herself stationary in your cunt, and when you wiggled around frantically to get more friction, she pulled you upright and wrapped both arms around you to cage you in place.

“Lilith…”  You whined petulantly, arching back against her and feeling the sweat on your skin soak into your shirt.

“Ava, be a good girl,” she chided firmly, pinching your nipple between her thumb and index finger over the damp fabric.  "What are you begging me for?"

“I’m so close, baby, please let me cum,” you pleaded, leaning your head back on her shoulder, baring your throat to her.

“You want to cum?”  You nodded wildly.  “I suppose I’ll allow that.  But you’ll do it the way I want you to.”  Without another word, she let you go, carefully pulling out of your pussy and backing away.  You were left standing alone, the cool air of the room raising goosebumps across your body in the absence of her warmth.  When you turned around, you found her sitting in your chair again, lounging in it just as she had before.

“Up,” she said, patting her lap and grinning.  “Facing me this time.”  You obeyed, stumbling forward on jelly legs and profusely thanking your past self for getting a gaming chair that 1) didn’t have wheels and 2) was wide enough for you to do this comfortably.  Lilith was kind enough to help you get into position, holding your waist steady while you carefully dropped back down on the strap.

While you were busy adjusting to the stretch again, her hands gripped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up over your head, tossing it into the same pile with your ruined panties.  Finally, you were naked before her, fully open to her appraisal.  And what an appraisal it was.  “Beautiful,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over the knots again.  She was still wearing her black undershirt, creating a sharp contrast between your two states.  It honestly made you feel a little vulnerable, being held open and on display while she was still partially clothed.  But the hunger in her eyes was gentle now, the hard edges of frustration and stress worn away.  As if sensing that whisper of anxiety, however, she was quick to reassure you.  “I’ve got you, love.  It’s okay.  Take what you need.”

You did exactly that.  You started out slow again, wrapping your arms around her shoulders to anchor yourself.  She buried her face into your neck, lavishing it with wet, heavy kisses.  She licked and nipped her way down your collarbone before taking the same nipple she had mercilessly teased between her teeth, sucking and biting it until the noises coming out of you could test even this building’s level of soundproofing.

The intensity kept ramping up and up.  You picked up speed until you were wildly riding her, and she grabbed the silk ties again to pull you down onto her with increasing force.  You could feel the pressure in your gut building to its breaking point, and knew from the way her breathing stuttered that she was getting there too.

“Fuck, that’s good, Aves, you’re riding me so well,” she growled.  “You can come when you’re ready.  I’ll be right behind you.”

As if flipping a switch, it seemed like her permission was all you needed.  You took the whole of the strap inside you and started to grind in her lap, all lucid thought fading away in your frantic search for completion.  “Baby, baby, it’s happening!  I’m—!”  You came with a long, tremulous cry, collapsing against her limply while she took over with her hips, using her powerful core and legs to drive up into you with near bruising force.  She grabbed your hips hard to hold them steady and buried her teeth in your shoulder, keeping you in place so expertly that no rope or ribbon ties could ever compare.

She came a minute later with a rough, deep groan that sent vibrations through your whole body.  Gathering you close, she released your shoulder and started covering the bite mark with open-mouthed kisses.  You were both breathing hard, your chests brushing together with the force of your pants.

“That was amazing,” she said, pressing her lips to every inch of your shoulder and neck that she could reach.  “My love, you did so well.”

“I did?” You asked, cringing just a bit at how small your voice sounded.

“Mmhm,” she murmured, petting your sweaty hair.  “You were so good for me.  You’re so good to me.  I didn’t…” She sighed.  “I didn’t expect this at all.  Thank you, for all of it.”

Her words made your chest feel curiously tight.  You buried your face in her hair to stifle this.  “I wanted to do something for you.  You’ve been so unhappy.”

She stilled, completely caught off-guard.  “I’m not unhappy,” she protested softly.

“I thought work—”

She shook her head.  “My work is frustrating, annoying more than anything.  The idiocy and rail-roading I’m expected to put up with every day is maddening.  But I’m accustomed to it.”

“It stresses you out, and makes you angry.”

“Because of you.”

“Me?”

“Mmhm,” she confirmed.  Her free hand began to trace circles in one of the gaps created by the ribbons.  “Because it keeps me away from you.  This past month has been so hard.”  You knew that, of course, but you waited quietly for her to continue.  “Before you, I never thought much of the hours I worked.  It was the job, and I was used to it.  I didn’t have anything at home for me to miss, apart from the occasional book.  But now I have you, and I miss you terribly, all the time.  Your clumsiness and your stupid jokes and your clutter.  Your laugh.  Your smile.  I miss the warmth when you’re not with me.  I was… very cold before you came to me, and I didn’t realize it.  Does that make sense?”

You nodded.  It did make sense.  You felt the same way.  Before her, your life was fine.  You had your cramped apartment, your job at the bar, the occasional hookup, and your little streaming channel.  It was barely anything, but you thought it was enough.  Until you met her, that is, and you realized that you could do better, could ask more from life than just subsisting on scraps.  You wouldn’t describe your life before as cold, but you would say it was small, too small to be what you really wanted.  But now it was big, in so many ways.  And most of it was because of her.

“I’m thinking about making some changes,” she continued.  “It can’t happen right away, but I’m going to try.  I’m pushing to become a partner in the firm.”

“Are you?”  You knew that would be a serious deal if she managed it.  Yes, she was one of the best and most sought after lawyers in the city, but it was another level to become a named partner in a firm.  “Obviously, you’ll get it.  They’d be idiots not to promote you.”

“I hope so,” she murmured.  “Until then, things will continue to be difficult.  I don’t want it to damage what we have.”

“It won’t.”  You pressed your lips into her raven hair.  “I know things are going to suck.  They’ve been sucking.  But I’m still here, Lil.  Everyday you come home, I’ll be here.  Promise.”

“I love you,” she whispered, pulling you back to look into your eyes.  “You know that, don’t you?”

You beamed.  “Of course I do.  I love you too.”  You kissed her then, curled up in her arms in your gaming chair.

So what if your surprise didn’t go according to plan?  This was the best outcome you could’ve asked for and more.