#Side Spiral Binding Notebooks

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie walks into his house after a three-day work trip in NYC to find…..a lot of boxes.

Most of them cardboard, most of them labeled DONATE or TRASH or GARAGE in Steve’s familiar handwriting.

“Oh, jeez,” Eddie mutters, because he knows what this is. Sure enough, he follows a trail of boxes upstairs to find the rest of his family in his youngest daughter Hazel’s room.

“Spring cleaning?” Eddie asks.

“Spring cleaning,” Moe says with an affirmative nod.

“Just Hazel’s room?” he asks, because Moe and Robbie are looking awfully comfortable sitting on Hazel’s bed while Hazel herself is rummaging through a back corner of her jam-packed closet, Steve watching over her shoulder with his hands on his hips.

“Uh, well, Moe ‘doesn’t do clutter’,” Steve says as he looks over at Eddie, “and therefore is exempt, apparently, and Robbie’s room gives me a migraine.”

“Plus,” Moe cuts in, “Robbie’s room is all clutter. If we get rid of it all, she'd have no personality left.”

“Hey,” Robbie says, jabbing her elbow into Moe's side, “Don’t be rude.”

Steve gives Eddie a do you see what I’m dealing with kind of look as Hazel finally emerges from her closet. 

“Dad, do you want this?” Hazel asks, holding out a very small, dog-shaped notebook with a comically large spiral binding that she probably acquired when she was in elementary school, “For writing or whatever?”

“Uh…”

“Just say yes so I can move some shit out of here,” Steve mutters, so Eddie takes the notebook from Hazel, and as soon as she was turning back to her closet, Steve took it from him and tossed it into the ‘Donate’ box in the hallway.

A moment later, Hazel emerged again, turning around to show everyone two plastic lawn flamingos (mismatched, Eddie notes).

“Thoughts?” she asked.

“Hon, those don’t even match,” Steve says (and he sounds all beleaguered and everything as if all this wasn’t his crusade to begin with), “They’re two totally different shades of pink.”

“Well, did you know that they’re actually white when they’re born? And then they eat mostly shrimp and that’s how they turn pink.”

Steve just stares at her for a moment, “Okay, Haze, those are plastic.”

“You should keep those,” Moe said, “Genuinely they’re, like, decor. You can put them somewhere.”

They spend a few minutes watching Hazel precariously balance the flamingos’ spindly legs on top of her bookshelf, but it doesn't take long for something else to catch Steve's eye.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, jutting his chin in the direction of something on an open shelf of Hazel’s dresser.

Hazel fetches a plastic Starbucks cup with a dozen or so dusty rocks inside.

“They’re rocks,” Hazel points out, “From when we went to the Grand Canyon.”

“Okay…” Steve says slowly, “Do they have to be in your sock drawer?”

“Why don’t you put them on your windowsill?” Robbie suggests, “You can charge the rocks, like, spiritually.”

“Oh yeah, there’s an idea,” Steve comments, but Hazel is already halfway to the window. Still, she pauses, and then turns back to face them.

“Do you think they miss their home?” she asks.

“What?” Steve looks at her.

“In the Grand Canyon?”

“Oh, Hazel,” Steve sighs.

“We could try to ship them back,” Moe suggests.

“None of you are helping.”

[rotworld]

A Bird in the Hand

you've been "partnered" with the nightbound who betrayed you for weeks now and neither of you are happy with how things are going.

->virgilio/reader. explicit; contains hypnosis, blood drinking, mild gore, power imbalance, aphrodisiacs, food control, mentions of conditioning.

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.

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Every day, there’s a notebook open on the kitchen counter. You can’t miss it because it sits right next to an enormous breakfast feast, already made, plated and waiting by the time you drag yourself out in hungry desperation. Everything is artfully arranged like it came right out of an upscale restaurant’s kitchen from lightly sprinkled garnish to elegant, swirling sauce patterns. Even the fucking cereal looks like a mouthwatering food blog photo, a row of sliced fruit ringing one side of the bowl. 

There’s a pen tucked into the notebook’s spiral binding. At the top of the page, a single question is scrawled in neat cursive: What is your favorite movie?

It’s late. The sun shields are open and you can see the city skyline glittering through the windows. The only light in the room comes from a lamp perched on the counter, the thick dome shade softening the light to sunset orange. You uncap the pen, watching clouds drift across the moon. 

Fuck you, you write.

*

Some nights are spent at Cassowary Tattoo. 

It’s that or stew in your own misery for long, silent hours, because you’re not allowed to leave the house on your own yet. You claim your spot in the waiting area, stretched out on the sofa by the front windows with a stack of books on the coffee table beside you. It’s so cozy it makes you suspicious, the comforting and non-confrontational vibe almost smothering—lots of plants and pottery on the wooden wall shelves and muted rugs to soften the hardwood floor, some slow-tempo jazz playing over the speakers. Was it already like this or did they do some hasty redecorating? It feels more like a coffee shop than a tattoo parlor.

Your name is called with slow reluctance. “Hey, uh…” It’s the guy working the desk—nightbound. You saw him sipping from a blood pouch earlier. He knows what you are, too. That’s why he watches you like a hawk. He looks young but that doesn’t mean anything. What does is how nervous he is around you, anxiously vigilant whenever you shift around to get comfortable or exhale just a little sharply. Not like he’s scared of you, but scared of potentially having to handle you, like he’s watching a priceless vase wobble precariously on its stand. A lot of fledglings are like that because the older nightbound teach them that witches are some kind of endangered species, rare and skittish, necessitating firm but gentle handling.

He’ll chase you if you try to run. He doesn’t want to. He’s afraid he might hurt you by accident and then Virgilio will be mad at him, and he would sooner chop off his own hand than risk one of his superiors, his elders, being mad at him.

“Yeah?” you say. 

He flinches whether you soften your tone or not. “Are you, uh. Are you hungry? Sergeant—uh, Virgilio wants to know.” 

“I’m fine.” You pretend to be interested in the books you brought along, propped up on your side with one of the musty tomes open in front of you. It’s all dry, boring shit, leatherbound antiques on loan from the Dusk Council’s extensive library. Nightbound biology, nightbound psychology, nightbound history—there’s a lot here that you don’t know despite how they’ve been breathing down your neck your whole life. 

“Oh. Okay.” He fidgets nervously with his phone. “Well, uh. I think he ordered you something anyway.” 

He did, of course, and it shows up just a few minutes later in the hands of a delivery driver. Virgilio appears at the same moment, pushing through the curtain dividing the shop. There’s no doorbell or chime or anything. Every nightbound in the shop can hear it when somebody parks on the street right outside, or when the front door opens with a wheezy creak. Virgilio exchanges pleasantries and leaves a nice tip. He places the takeout bag on the coffee table right next to your books and then he pulls up one of the armchairs. His hair’s up in a ponytail. He’s wearing a black tank top so his tattoo sleeves are on full display—a moon and clouds, raven wings, a skull hidden among full-bloom flowers and half-melted candles. 

His smile makes your stomach twist up in angry, sickened knots. “Hey. Got you something.” 

You don’t answer and you don’t meet his gaze. Undeterred, he pulls a container out of the bag and opens it for you, steam and a garlicky scent wafting out. It’s some kind of spinach dish, sauteed leafy greens topped with crunchy garnish. 

“Smells pretty good,” he says, stirring it with a plastic fork. “Let me know if you like it and I’ll make it at home sometime. Just need some garlic and olive oil. Maybe a little amaretto if you want it fancy.” He slides the bowl across the table, closer to you. “Come on. You must be hungry. You barely touched breakfast.” You still don’t take it and his smile wanes, all that cheerful enthusiasm souring into weary resignation. “I don’t want to put you under but I will if I have to. It’s for your own good.”

“Stop saying that.” The threat of hypnosis makes you sit up, but you still don’t reach for the bowl. You don’t want it. You don’t want any of this. “‘For my own good?’ This is all for you, so you can feed as much as you want.” 

“It’s for you,” Virgilio insists. “So you don’t end up anemic or worse.” 

The wounded look on his face makes your blood boil, soft eyes and furrowed brows like he thought this would go any other way. He wants to talk? Fine. You can talk. “I wouldn’t need to worry about that if you fed from anyone or anything else sometimes. But I’m here, so you might as well take as much as you want, right? Why bother with a donor who actually likes getting fed on? Is that not as fun? You can’t get off if your blood bag is having a good time, too?” 

Virgilio catches your chin between his fingers and jerks your gaze up to meet his eyes. He’s got your mind in a vice-grip before you can even blink and for a blissful moment, there are no thoughts in your head. No anger. No fear. Nothing. Just fuzzy warmth and gentle drifting. His eyes are glittering gold and you’re sinking, all the tension leaking out of your body, all your worries evaporating—and then he lets go, slowly, like a fist loosening. He maintains just enough control that you can’t muster the energy to yell at him or tear yourself away. 

“Eat the fucking food,” he says, his voice low and ragged. You can only think clearly when he stops touching you, and even then, you find yourself picking up the bowl and spearing spinach on your fork. Virgilio leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you mutter between bites. “I didn’t choose to be what I am.” 

Virgilio takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Yeah. Me, neither.” 

*

Every three days, your breakfast comes with roseblood. Virgilio brews it himself on the stove and the delicate garden-fresh aroma fills the whole house by the time you wake up. He pours the first dose into a black mug with a golden bird silhouette stamped on the side, and then he drops in a few colorful crystals that gently fizzle, making little prismatic bubbles at the surface. That’s nectar, condensed and edible magic. The sweet scent makes your mouth water. He sprinkles a couple leftover rosebuds on top and slides the mug over to join the rest of the trays, plates and bowls he painstakingly prepared. 

“Buon appetito,” he says with a grin. He usually makes himself scarce when you show up for food but today he’s decided to stick around. He stays on the other side of the counter, at least, a newspaper unfolded in front of him so he can pretend he isn’t watching you intently. You eat begrudgingly. Virgilio is such a talented chef that it makes you angry. His plating is immaculate and his dishes are perfect whether he’s baking, boiling or braising something—a sharp contrast to the single small plate at his elbow with nothing but a piece of toast smeared with marmalade. 

You watch him. He watches you. Neither of you speak to each other and the only sounds are the clink of your silverware and the whisper of turning paper, the occasional muted crunch when Virgilio nibbles on his toast. The roseblood is delicious, sweet like honey. You catch him smiling when you hold up the mug, enjoying the soft floral scent and the warmth against your palms, but he quickly averts his eyes back down to the newspaper. 

You think about those videos of animal shelters and people who sit with nervous dogs until they stop shaking. That’s how he sees this, you think. A selfless act. Doing you a favor. Coaxing you to him with food and gentle words, like he doesn’t already have the leash around your neck. 

Today, the notebook asks, What do you like to do in your spare time? 

Virgilio’s gaze is drawn by the scratch of the pen across the paper. You scribble quickly and furiously, then shove it aside. He doesn’t have to look to know you’ve written the same words you always do. He gathers up his newspaper and toast and finally gives you some privacy.

*

Some nights are spent in Dr. Griffiths’ office. The two of you look like a couple on the verge of divorce. Virgilio hunches like a man in a confessional booth and you’re scrunched up against the armrest of the big Victorian sofa, keeping one full cushion between the two of you. Your gaze travels across the room in careful avoidance of Virgilio, wandering from the bookshelves to the hanging paintings to the swinging pendulum of a grandfather clock. Candles flicker atop ornate brass stands. It smells like leather, parchment and incense. 

“I just don’t know what else to do,” Virgilio says. “It’s not like I don’t get it. I do. But you have to understand that the second you became active…look, you weren’t leaving that dinner party without the rug getting pulled out from under you, okay? That’s just how it is. If I didn’t do it, someone else would’ve. And I know you hate me for it, you feel like I took advantage—” 

“Let’s not assume,” Dr. Griffiths says gently. “It would benefit you both to ask each other how you feel, rather than jumping to conclusions. Even in situations where you’re certain you already know, is it not better to ask? To have the opportunity to voice those thoughts and feelings?” He’s nightbound, of course, because why would the Council send you to any other kind of therapist? His eyes glint like an animal’s and he has the uncanny, fluid grace of an elder. He dresses somewhat eccentrically for his profession, stylish and formal in a black blouse with translucent sleeves and fitted slacks, his high heels glossy like obsidian. He looks the way people expect nightbound to look, sickly pale and ghostly as though carved from marble. 

Virgilio glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “They don’t talk to me if they can help it.” 

Dr. Griffiths tilts his head, regarding you with a pensive frown. “You’re still not speaking to your partner?” 

“No,” you mutter.

“Why not?” 

“You can’t guess?” 

He smiles and pushes away from the desk. You watch him warily as he comes to stand beside you, resting his palm on the armrest of the sofa. He looks down at you, tilting his head in that odd, bird-like motion the nightbound all share, like an owl tracking a scurrying mouse. “No assumptions, remember?” he asks.

“It’s really not that hard to figure out,” you insist. He hums, urging you to continue. You don’t look at Virgilio but you can feel the weight of his stare. “My life doesn’t belong to me. I’m like his pet or something.”

“That’s not true—” Virgilio starts to say. Dr. Griffiths cuts him off with a sharp glance. 

“Go on,” he says patiently. 

There’s a lump in your throat, the burning sensation of tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You swallow hard. “And my time, that’s not mine anymore. I’m basically nocturnal now because I have to be. Even if I get up early, I can’t see the sun because of the stupid shields on the windows. It’s so dark everywhere, all the time. And my bedroom isn’t mine, it’s just the guestroom in his house. Some of my stuff’s there but it doesn’t matter. He can come in whenever he wants.”

“I would never—”

“Virgilio,” Dr. Griffiths says, firm but gentle. 

“And,” your voice cracks, “and the food, too. He picks that. And I know why, I know about roseblood and the risks and all that stuff, I know that. But it just reminds me that I don’t have anything anymore. I don’t even have myself. And…and…” Your words unravel into sobs. The sofa creaks under Virgilio’s shifting weight and you see him in your periphery looking sick with guilt. 

His hand trespasses onto the cushion between you. You hear him come closer. You know what he’s going to do and it makes you feel even worse, but you don’t try to stop him from touching your shoulder and turning you towards him. You don’t fight the gentle pressure of his fingers on your chin. You don’t squeeze your eyes shut or try to look away. Your eyes meet and Virgilio’s calming presence fills your mind, quieting your sobs to sniffles and numbing the ache in your chest.

Everything is okay for a while. Everything is light and airy, soft and sweet. You’re freed from thought and fear and worry, left with nothing but peace. When you surface, it happens slowly. You feel an arm wrapped around you, a gentle hand stroking your head. You smell chewing gum on his breath. Virgilio holds you against his chest, idly stroking your back and pressing kisses to your tear-dampened cheeks. 

Dr. Griffiths is back by his desk, frowning thoughtfully. “You have a problem with control, Virgilio,” he says. “Understandably, you crave it. You exert it however and whenever you can. Losing it makes you lash out and act impulsively. I would hope, then, that you might have some sympathy for someone who has none.”

Virgilio wraps around you like you’re the only thing keeping him from falling to pieces. He knows this will end badly once you get home; more tears, more distance, days of agonizing silence and refusing to meet his eye. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, you’re right.” He holds on tight while he still can. 

*

There are indents in the notebook paper, like someone scribbled furiously on the page before it. You turn back and find line after line written and then hastily crossed out. A handful are still legible:

What is your favorite breakfast food? What is your favorite food? What foods do you like? What would you like me to make you? I will make you anything you want if you ask for it. I didn’t know it upset you so much. I thought maybe it upset you, but I didn’t know what to do. I’m trying to make the best of a difficult situation. I know it’s not fair. I’m not good at this. I can’t let you go but I will do anything else, just name it and I will do it. I’m going to put a better lock on your door. Do you want a better lock on your door? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m really sorry.

On the next page, Virgilio’s handwriting reverts to its usual neatness. It simply says, List some foods that you like. 

*

Some nights are spent at home. Virgilio’s coworkers say he’s allergic to time off, which is news to you. It feels like he’s around more than he isn’t. Usually you stay in the guest room and only venture out for food but tonight, you reluctantly join him on the living room sectional. Virgilio is hunched over and doodling in a sketchbook, so shocked by your sudden appearance that you hear his pencil lead snap. You flick on the lamp and unceremoniously drop your entire stack of books on the coffee table, picking one from the pile at random to start with. 

You peek over the edge of the book. Virgilio is frozen for a moment like he thinks the slightest twitch might scare you off. You don’t think he’s even breathing. He watches you carefully, assessing you with cold focus like he’s sizing up a threat. The intensity in his stare frightens you. You don’t know what gives you away—quickening pulse? Hitched breath? Some subtle scent? He blinks and his gaze softens. He sets his sketchbook down and turns to give you his full attention. His casual lean, the way he drapes his arm over the backrest, reminds you of the night you met. 

“How about a truce?” he offers. 

You stare at him suspiciously. “What kind of truce?” 

“Less mesmerism.” 

“How about no mesmerism?” 

“Less,” he stresses with finality. The way your expression crumples with disappointment makes him sigh and rub the back of his neck. “What else do you want? Within reason.” 

You almost scoff at that but Virgilio’s anxious stare makes you reconsider. He’s trying, at least. It’s the smallest of consolations, but he’s giving it to you. “Could you talk to me the way you used to?” 

“The way I used to?” 

“Like at the party. Before…” Before he ruined your life. Betrayed your trust. Claimed you in front of the whole Council. Your heart is in your throat. “Like before,” you say quietly. 

The hoarseness of your voice makes him restless. He drums his fingers along the back of the couch and his gaze wanders. “I tried that,” he says. “When you first came here—” 

“When I was brought here,” you correct him. He clenches his jaw. “I didn’t choose to come here. You know that.” 

“The point is I tried that already. I acted like nothing was different. You still wouldn’t talk to me.” 

“Because I was angry. I still am,” you tell him. “I know I didn’t have much of a choice. I know somebody else would’ve done it if you didn’t. But it hurt. I’m allowed to be hurt. You can’t just snap your fingers and make me forgive you—”

“I could,” Virgilio says. He turns towards the kitchen windows where the moon is just a curled sliver. “I could make you. Probably not in one session. I’d need to reinforce it a few times. But I could.” He says it so plainly. Soft and contemplative, like something he’s spent long nights turning over in his mind. “Hm. That sounds extra fucked up when I say it out loud.” You flinch when he gives you a sidelong glance. “I really am sorry. About the way I did it, anyway. If we’d been anywhere else, I would’ve taken you home and talked it over first. I would’ve made you comfortable first. Been gentler about the claiming mark.” 

The reminder makes you pick at the turtleneck collar of your shirt. The scars on your neck are crescents of bumpy, gnarled tissue like the prints left by a vicious mauling. Virgilio follows the movement of your fingers intently, hoping you might peel the fabric down and show him the proof of his claim, but you won’t. You keep it covered as much as possible. The way he looks at it even through your clothing, the voyeuristic hunger in his eyes, unsettles you. 

“And yeah,” he says wryly, “I know you would’ve agreed to it. I would’ve laid out your options, and you would’ve picked me. That’s not a brag. The bar is real low and I know that. I’m perfectly happy being the lesser evil.”

He’s lying. You can’t usually tell. Before he started covering everything up with cloying, overindulgent sweetness, he hid all of his feelings behind a veneer of deadpan sarcasm. But that last part, you’re certain, was a lie. He doesn’t look at you when he says it. His voice gets small and timid, almost ashamed. You set your book down on the table slowly and take a steadying breath. 

“Do you want to feed on me?” you ask him. 

Virgilio blinks a couple times, like he’s trying to wake himself up. “Are you fucking with me?” 

You were really hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of this. “Remember what I said at the therapist’s? About how I’m basically your dog?” 

He frowns. “You’re not—” 

“Not looking to argue,” you cut him off tiredly. “Sometimes it feels like you’re trying to train me. Rewarding me for good behavior, punishing me for bad, all that stuff. Well, we’re trying to make things fair with a truce, right? So now I’m going to train you, too.” You lean back against the couch cushions and hook your fingers into the turtleneck, rolling down the collar until your throat is exposed. Virgilio’s pupils dilate. “If you’re good, you get extra.” 

He drags his gaze up from your neck to your face and your heart races. You don’t see him like this very often. Virgilio is old enough to control his appetite, normally unfazed by the sight or scent of bare human skin. The temptation of your blood when he didn’t expect it seems to have caught him off guard. He looks at you like a starving wolf looks at a lone deer, how the same wolf looks at a mate in heat, lust and hunger a single entity. Virgilio prowls closer on all fours, crawling towards you on the couch. You both know he’s the one in control here. He can take what he wants, when he wants. 

But he stops just short of you, one hand landing on the cushion beside your feet, and looks at you with that animalistic tilt of the head. “Have I been good?” he asks, his voice low and eager. 

Heat rushes through your body. “Yes,” you say. “You’ve been very good.” 

There’s something ritualistic about the way Virgilio feeds. You don’t know if all nightbound are like this or if it’s unique to him, but he goes slow. There’s foreplay before the bite. The approach is a dance, graceful and gradual. He caresses your leg as he shifts closer and he presses kisses everywhere, even over your clothes. To your ankle. To your knee. To your hip. They’re chaste but they linger and they feel reverential. He slides into place beside you and pulls you into his lap, hand wandering. He rubs your shoulders and strokes your sides. You see desire in his eyes but also sadness and solemn determination. This is about more than blood. 

His fingers slip beneath the hem of your turtleneck but he doesn’t take it off right away. He feels you first, his palms sliding up and down your chest. It feels good—not just the stroke of his fingers against your hardening nipples but also the undivided attention, the focus on your body and your pleasure, the weight and wanting of his stare. To Virgilio, nothing exists but you right now, you and your warmth and your pulse thudding beneath his fingertips. His lips move hungrily against yours, coaxing you to tangle your tongue with his. He makes small sounds, contented sighs and soft moans. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he murmurs, nipping at your lower lip. Your heart flutters at the teasing prick of his fangs, his venom fizzling pleasantly on your skin. “I swear I will. Someday I’ll be worthy of this partnership.” He pulls your turtleneck off and buries his face against the side of your neck, inhaling deeply with a shudder. His hips move involuntarily, short, needy thrusts that grind his clothed, hardening cock against your ass. He presses his lips against your neck, teasing you. He knows exactly where you’re most sensitive. The marks from the last time he fed still haven’t faded. But he likes to feign ignorance, enjoying your quiet moans until he reaches the spot that really makes you squirm.

For all his protests about you not being a pet, he really does have you trained. You don’t flinch anymore when he prepares, stroking the back of his fangs with his tongue until his mouth is full of venom. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses leave tingling numbness in their wake. Testing nips make you shiver in pleasure rather than pain. You wrap your arms around him and hold on tight, not out of fear but in anticipation. Virgilio savors you, dragging his tongue over your pulse. His hand cradles the back of your head as you turn and bare your neck to him. 

“Two and a half centuries in this shitty world,” he whispers, “and nothing has ever been as precious to me as you are.” 

Virgilio’s bite is ecstasy. The moment his venom floods your veins, your toes curl, your back arches, and you cum. If he didn’t hold onto you so tightly and keep your head still, you would thrash and flail wildly. You know he feels just as good, maybe even better, because his hips buck like he’s fucking you, rolling, languid thrusts that lightly bounce you in his lap. You’re aware, dimly and distantly, that the bite is shallow. He’s keeping it light and controlled, sucking the blood that beads to the surface rather than widening the wound, and in a state of pure instinctual want, it infuriates you. You want more, deeper, harder, everything he has filling you. He keeps a firm, steady grip on the back of your head to make sure you don’t try and impale yourself on him further. You whine when his fangs retract and he laps at the punctures left behind. 

“You’re so good to me,” he murmurs against your skin, trying to soothe you. The praise goes straight to your sex, heat and arousal making you move your hips against him. “Mm, yes, you are. So sweet and delicious.” His hand dips between your legs. He doesn’t undress you but he loosens the clothes on your lower half enough to get his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, and then he’s mercilessly working your sex with his fingers. “Cum one more time.” He’s growling, so deep in his own primal need that his voice is low and rumbling. He’s not asking. It’s an order, and it makes you whimper. “One more. Come on. Sweet thing, letting me have a taste of you. Let go for me.”

Already raw and right on the edge, you cum with a sob. Virgilio doesn’t let up, still mouthing at your neck and whispering filth. He coos about the mess you made on his fingers while your hips helplessly chase his hand. He doesn’t stop until you sag against him, worn out and oversensitive. The blistering pleasure phase has run its course but his venom will keep you in an extended post-orgasmic bliss for a while longer. He lays down and keeps you tucked against his chest, gently rubbing your back. 

It’s nice, you think deliriously. Every feeding is nice, but usually you shake him off and demand to be left alone once it’s over. It was a mistake to stay. Now that you know what it feels like to be in his arms, you’re not sure you’ll be able to leave.

“You can take a nap, if you want. I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly. Warmly. He sounds happy, you think. Because you fed him without prompting? Because he’s in control again? You don't know if tonight was a step forward or back, but you aren’t going to worry about it right now. Not when the lights are low and Virgilio’s touch is so tender, and everything almost feels alright. 

*

The next night, you're up and moving a little earlier than usual. Viriglio is still cooking. You sit at the counter to watch. He looks back over his shoulder at you briefly, almost shyly, like he doesn't want to scare you into leaving. He nods in greeting. You nod back. He looks a little disappointed but he smiles anyway and returns his attention to the stove. 

You tell him your favorite movie. 

[diaphanouswings]

Sleepy Studies (A LaDS fic)

Click. Click. Click. You sigh and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Hunched over with your chin propped on the palm of your hand and your elbow braced on the little café table, you continue to click your pen and twirl it between your fingers every third one. The words of the book you are trying to read have begun to blur for the past few minutes. And your notes are getting more squiggly than legible. Yet blinking away the film of tiredness is not working anymore. You sigh again. Hopefully another sip of coffee would help.

And then the chair across from you is pulled back and someone plops down in it. The audacity…?

“You look like you’re about to collapse face first into that book,” a familiar voice says. “Strange, and you call me sleepy.”

“Xavier,” you intone dully, the syllables of his name heavy on your tongue. You straighten up. “I thought you were out this week on some long term assignment.” You carefully didn’t say that he went without you. Complaining wasn’t cute from anyone.

“Finished early.” His half-lidded blue eyes stare carefully at you. The cup in his hand rises so he can take a drink of his latte. “What is so necessary about this book for you to push yourself so hard?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Some of us aren’t super geniuses,” you drawl. “Some of us have to study for our hunter recertifications.”

He brings his empty hand up to his mouth as he thought. “Ah, those are coming up, aren’t they?” As ever, he sounds absolutely unbothered. His cup clinks as he sets it down on the table you’re now sharing. This guy… “I suppose I ought to review a little.” He cocks his head to the side, looking up at you through his pretty lashes. Ugh.

You smile despite the irrational urge to pinch his face with both hands as hard as you can. You don’t know if it’s cuteness aggression or just plain aggression thanks to the exhausted state you’re in. “Maybe you ought to, yes,” you say. You bend your neck back down to try to go back to reading.

“I don’t think you’re going to retain what you need if you fall asleep on your book.”

“I’m not going to retain anything if you keep talking to me.” For once, you don’t want him to yap. “Drink your latte.”

“Hm.” You can feel him staring at the top of your head.

You startle when suddenly a strong steady hand catches your forehead. “What?” you slur, blinking rapidly. Shit, were you sleeping?

“Enough.” Xavier sets down his empty cup. (When did he finish it…?) “Come on, time to go home.” Before you can stop him, he gathers your book and notebook, tucking your pen into the spiral binding of the latter. You squeak when Xavier scoops you up as well. You have no choice but to throw your arms around his neck to keep your balance. He smiles a little, likely at the way you puff up your cheeks angrily. “Good thing this café is just down the road from us.”

“Hey!” But you know it’s no use fighting it. For an easy going guy, he did get bossy on occasion. “Fine.”

Xavier huffs a laugh and nuzzles his nose against yours but doesn’t say anything more. Weirdly affectionate of him. Before long, he is stepping into the elevator, using his elbow to press the button for his floor. But not yours. Strange… Yet the senior hunter simply strides to his door and it slides open to let the both of you in. Your things are plopped down on the coffee table in a drive by move as he continues onward.

What the…?!

The sight of his dim bedroom make you wriggle in confusion. You gasp when he tosses you onto his bed. And you’re not quite sure if you want to kick out when he tugs off your boots. You wiggle again but there is no escape. Xavier flops down on top of you, head on your tee shirt covered chest. “Excuse me?!” you gasp.

“Nap time,” he announces. “You’ll study better after some rest. Besides, I’m sleepy.” And then Xavier seems to melt into a relaxed puddle. It isn’t too long until he’s asleep. His long lashes are like elegant fans swept downward and his breathing is slow and deep.

“What the fuck?” you whisper. But he’s heavy and the bed is soft. Fine, fuck it. You stroke his shoulders and back, your fingers curling into the fabric of his soft sweater. Your own eyes flutter closed. You never see the smug quirk of his lips as you drift off.

You wake with a shriek later at midnight because your sleep schedule is completely borked now thanks to Master Sleepy and his devious ways.

END

[vampd0llz]

Agatha All Along: Where the Witches Fell

Chapter 1

Una Fae woke up at five-thirty every morning.

Not because she had to. She didn’t have an early job, no training schedule, no one depending on her. She just liked the silence. The clean, pre-dawn hours where the world hadn’t woken up yet and everything felt still. Control was easiest to maintain in silence.

Her apartment was a third-floor corner unit above a bookstore that never opened on time. The walls were cracked, the windows drafty, and the radiators coughed in the winter. But the light was good, and the landlord didn’t ask questions. That was worth the peeling paint.

She made coffee. Black. No sugar. She didn’t believe in sweetening things just to make them tolerable.

As it brewed, she leaned against the counter and stared out the window. The street below was empty. A single streetlamp flickered, casting long, twitching shadows across the sidewalk. Something felt… off.

She narrowed her eyes. Nothing out of place. Just the usual grime and quiet. But there was a buzz in the air, low and bone-deep, like a chord had been struck in the architecture of the world.

It had started three days ago.

At first, she thought it was just her — some side effect of a new spell she'd tested. But the feeling hadn’t passed. It was a pressure behind her eyes, a hum in her bones. A presence. She hadn't told anyone about it. Mostly because there was no one to tell.

---

At exactly 6:00, Una rolled out her shoulders and reached for her grimoire. Not the flashy kind other witches liked to carry around — no leather binding or etched gold glyphs. Just a plain, black notebook. Spiral-bound. Scratched.

She didn’t write spells in it, not really.

She wrote rules. Observations. Names.

She’d been keeping it since she was twelve.

On the next blank page, she wrote:

Something is watching. Unclear if external or internal. Potential resonance spell? Or bleed-through? Investigate.

She underlined “watching” twice.

Then she added:

If it speaks — don’t listen.

Continue reading ↓ ↓ ↓

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66580798/chapters/171743845

[lemimmaid]

Day 6: Journal

Iaera (she/her)

A pinky shifted away from the pen in her hand in a practiced motion, gently nudging her glasses up her nose before returning to its starting position. As she leaned back in her chair, a quiet exhale escaped her lips, the tip of her head allowing the silver-blue locks to fall away from her face. How many hours a day was she expected to study? There was so much going on outside this castle, and she was destined to miss it all.

What a backwards existence, where Father kept the two of them holed up in the comfortable safety of home, while Mom and Tessie gallivanted across the worlds fighting dangerous monsters. A summary befitting a novel targeted at teenage girls, though she was beyond certainty that plenty had been inspired by her mother. She'd read several of them herself, in attempts to busy her mind amidst the suffocating amount of free time she faced. Memorizing the ins and outs of every trope, how they were marketed, the parts of her mother's life left conspicuously absent... fiction based in the reality that was the grandeur of Master Aqua.

Her sister was sure to get the same treatment sooner rather than later, no doubt. How would she handle it?

Iaera's musing stirred her out of her thoughts, the loops upon loops of boredom spiraling endlessly in her constantly buzzing mind. Allowing her gaze to fall to the door, she focused on the gentle bustle of the hallway outside. It truly seemed no matter how many people occupied the castle, it was empty. The echo chamber of her room was laden with specialized furniture, disorderly trinkets, and an overwhelming number of pillows and plush toys. Admittedly, she was glad she didn't occupy a larger space, one could only do so much with accessibility without becoming borderline nonsensical in construction. Regrettable that castles are built up instead of out. This entire world was built with an endless movement upward, it seemed, and the benevolent founders hadn't seen fit to add a ramp or two.

Listing into a fresh round of disinterest, she found her ears wandering from the noise outside her door to the far more appealing sounds filtering in from her window: the live symphony that was a Radiant Garden afternoon.

Her fingertips gently lay her pen between the open bindings of her notebook, marking her place, but beyond that, freeing her hands. Hands which moved to lightly caress the metal on either side of her, cool from the precisely 68 degree air, exactly as Uncle Even liked it. She oft considered the gloves Tessie wore to be more of a hassle than they were worth, but the weakness in her hands wasn't aided by cold fingers, she supposed. Perhaps a reassessment was in order...

With motions she imagined more than once would be just as fluid as moving one's own legs, she wheeled to the window, looking down at the vibrant world below. The overlapping voices of other children huddled around the edge of the fountain, ice cream in hand. Laughter and conversations of adults leisurely traversing the stone pathways lining the city, uneven cobble she had envisioned the cracks and valleys of many times. Dreams like the illusions her Father wielded, picturing the bounce and tremor of these wheels on those streets...

Hazarding a glance at the clock, Iaera found herself relinquishing another sigh. Father would be finished with his work soon, perhaps she could see something beyond this room today, at least. At any rate, she was certain to get considerably better stimulation from attempting to assert a word in edgewise with Even than she would staring into her soulless notes and textbook chapters she'd already passed over several times today alone.

She wheeled to the door, letting her gaze fall to the light pouring in from the window once again, the glittering sky of the most beautiful world in existence that lay just outside of her bedroom, from which her sister brought gifts and photographs and stories.

Perhaps one day she'd see it.

For now, all she had was illusion and fantasy.

Artists: @ramatetsu, Baydews, Chibi Dollmaker, Kureihii.

@khoc-week

[paste-n-paper]

Hi! I saw your Hades journal and was immediately hit by Aphrodite, because I think I'm in love!!

Unfortunately, I'm not very familiar with journals, because I'm more of an artist than a writer. I have many questions. I hope that's alright.

On bindings: will the reusable cover lie flat without breaking the spine? Do coptic bindings always lie flat on the table, or only when using the center pages?

I've found that finished pencil drawings are much less likely to smear over time in bound notebooks than spiraled. Do you have any experience with this in coptic notebooks?

Finally, I haven't worked with the paper weight you use. Do you have any bleed tests? (pen, sharpie, highlighter). I'm assuming it wouldn't take alcohol markers or watercolors well.

Sorry for the long ask!

Hi there! I hope you don't mind me answering this publicly, but you had some great questions and I thought the answers might benefit other people as well.

So both the reusable journal and the coptic journals lay flat. That was a big deal for me - I hate fighting with a journal to get it to stay open. The exposed stitching means that they open completely at the spine no matter where in the journal you open it. Flat is subjective because if there is only a few sheets on one side and the rest of the journal on the other it's going to lean slightly. See the photo below of the coptic journal.

As far as smearing, I don't have a conclusive answer to that as I don't personally use them for art. I will say that because of the stitching, the pages don't shift up and down like they would with a spiral bound books. They are much closer to a hardback sketchbook than a spiral bound sketchbook in how solid they feel.

Finally, I use Canson Sketch paper in most of my journals. It's 65lb/96gsm with a very slight tooth. I chose it specifically because it has a good balance both for writing and drawing, has a good hand feel (texture is important to me), and doesn't break the bank so I don't have to charge an arm and a leg for my journals. You're right, it's not rated for wet mediums like alcohol markers or watercolors. Here are two photos of a quick pen test. The first is the front, the second is the reverse side so you can see the bleed/ghosting when the pages are stacked.

That being said, I'm always willing to make custom changes. So if you're looking for a thicker paper that's something we can do, just for a little extra cost.

I hope that helps!

And to anyone else, my asks are always open. I'm here to make sure you get the journal that is just right for your needs!

[scholar-stationery]

Customized Notebooks: A Simple Way to Make Your Ideas Stand Out

Notebooks are more than just a bunch of pages. They are where ideas begin, where plans take shape, and where thoughts find a place to grow. While plain notebooks work just fine, customized notebooks offer something extra. They add a personal touch that can make a big difference, whether you’re using them for school, work, or personal journaling.

What Are Customized Notebooks?

Customized notebooks are regular notebooks made special by adding personal or unique features. These features can include your name on the cover, a favorite color or design, or even a special message inside. Some notebooks can also be customized with logos, themes, or quotes that inspire you. You can choose the size, number of pages, paper type (like ruled, plain, or dotted), and even the binding style—spiral, stapled, or stitched.

Why Do People Use Customized Notebooks?

There are many reasons people choose customized notebooks. One big reason is identity. When something has your name or style on it, it feels more personal. For students, having a notebook that looks different from everyone else’s makes it easy to find and fun to use. For professionals, a customized notebook can help keep things organized and leave a good impression in meetings.

Customized notebooks are also popular as gifts. Giving someone a notebook made just for them shows thought and care. It’s useful and meaningful at the same time. Many people also like to use them as travel journals, recipe books, or art sketchbooks.

Benefits of Customized Notebooks

Organization – You can create different designs for different subjects or uses. This helps you stay organized.

Motivation – Seeing your favorite quote or image on the cover might encourage you to write more.

Creativity – Customizing your notebook lets your creative side shine, and that makes writing or drawing more fun.

Ownership – You are more likely to take care of something that feels like it belongs only to you.

Easy Identification – In a classroom or office, it’s easier to spot your notebook if it’s customized.

Where to Use Customized Notebooks

Customized notebooks are useful in many places:

School – For taking notes in class or doing homework.

Work – For meetings, to-do lists, and project planning.

Home – For journaling, sketching, or writing recipes.

Gifts – For birthdays, graduations, or as thank-you presents.

In today’s world, where everything can be made personal, customized notebooks are a simple yet special choice. They are not just tools for writing—they are reflections of who we are.

For those looking for well-made, customizable options, Scholar Stationery offers notebooks that blend quality with personal design.

[sriramanotebooks]

What Types of Notebooks Do Notebook Manufacturers Typically Produce?

When it comes to stationery, notebooks remain an essential item used by students, professionals, artists, and writers alike. But have you ever wondered what types of notebooks notebook manufacturers typically produce? As a leading notebook manufacturer, companies like Srirama Notebooks understand the diverse needs of customers and offer a wide range of products tailored to different uses and preferences. In this article, we will explore the various types of notebooks that notebook manufacturing companies generally produce and how book manufacturing companies use advanced printing services, including 3D printing service and digital printing service, to bring these notebooks to life.

Types of Notebooks Produced by Notebook Manufacturers

Notebook manufacturers cater to various market demands by producing notebooks in different styles, sizes, and designs. The primary types of notebooks include:

Spiral Notebooks

Spiral notebooks are one of the most popular types produced by a note book manufacturing company. They feature a spiral wire binding that allows the notebook to lie flat or even fold back on itself. This design makes them ideal for students and professionals who need to write comfortably on both sides of the paper.

The production of spiral notebooks involves precision in cutting, binding, and printing. Companies like Srirama Notebooks employ advanced digital printing services to create vibrant and durable covers that appeal to different customer tastes.

Hardcover Notebooks

Hardcover notebooks offer durability and a professional look. They are often used in offices, journals, and diaries. The notebook manufacturer creates a sturdy cardboard or plastic cover that protects the pages inside. Hardcover notebooks are excellent for users who want a notebook that withstands daily wear and tear.

To enhance the aesthetic appeal, book manufacturing companies apply digital printing service techniques to produce high-quality, detailed cover designs. Additionally, some manufacturers integrate embossing or foil stamping to elevate the look and feel of hardcover notebooks.

Softcover Notebooks

Softcover notebooks are flexible and lightweight, making them convenient for everyday use. These notebooks often have a laminated paper cover and can come in various sizes, from pocket-sized to A4. The note book manufacturing company typically uses cost-effective binding methods such as glue binding or saddle stitching.

Using digital printing services, companies like Srirama Notebooks create attractive and customizable covers that allow customers to select from numerous patterns, colors, and themes.

Composition Notebooks

Composition notebooks are a staple in schools. They usually have a sewn binding and a marbled cover design. The pages inside are typically ruled or blank, depending on the purpose. These notebooks are known for their durability and ability to handle frequent use.

A notebook manufacturing company relies heavily on printing services to ensure that the covers and pages meet quality standards. While traditional printing methods are common, many modern notebook manufacturing companies integrate digital printing service to speed up production and offer customization.

Dot Grid and Bullet Journals

With the rise of bullet journaling and creative note-taking, notebook manufacturers have begun producing dot grid notebooks. These notebooks feature pages with faint dots arranged in a grid pattern, which helps users draw, write, or design freely.

This category has seen a surge in demand, prompting book manufacturing companies to invest in innovative printing services that can reproduce the subtle dot patterns clearly and consistently.

Sketchbooks and Art Notebooks

Artists and designers need notebooks with thicker paper that can withstand various media such as pencils, ink, and watercolors. Therefore, notebook manufacturing companies produce sketchbooks with high-quality, heavy-weight paper and minimal ruling or blank pages.

Manufacturers like Srirama Notebooks utilize premium materials and printing techniques to meet the demands of artists. While the primary focus is on the paper quality, the covers are also designed using digital printing service to reflect creativity and inspire users.

Eco-Friendly Notebooks

As environmental awareness grows, many notebook manufacturers now offer eco-friendly notebooks made from recycled paper and biodegradable materials. These notebooks appeal to customers who want to reduce their environmental footprint.

The note book manufacturing company often partners with specialized printing services that use soy-based inks and sustainable printing processes. Brands like Srirama Notebooks emphasize sustainability while maintaining product quality through eco-conscious manufacturing methods.

How Printing Services Impact Notebook Manufacturing

Modern notebook manufacturing companies rely heavily on advanced printing services to deliver high-quality notebooks that meet market trends and customer preferences. The two most significant printing methods in use today are digital printing service and 3D printing service.

Digital Printing Service: This technique allows manufacturers to print notebooks in smaller batches with faster turnaround times. It supports customization, enabling customers to order notebooks with personalized covers, logos, or themes. Digital printing produces sharp images and vibrant colors, which are critical for notebook covers and inserts.

3D Printing Service: While 3D printing is more commonly associated with manufacturing parts and prototypes, some innovative notebook manufacturers use 3D printing to create unique notebook covers or accessories. For example, customized 3D-printed notebook covers or add-ons provide a tactile and aesthetic advantage that traditional printing cannot match.

Why Choose Srirama Notebooks?

Srirama Notebooks stands out among notebook manufacturing companies because of its commitment to quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction. Leveraging state-of-the-art printing services, including both digital printing service and selective use of 3D printing service, Srirama produces a vast variety of notebooks tailored to different market needs.

Whether you require durable spiral notebooks for school, elegant hardcover journals for professionals, or eco-friendly options for conscious consumers, Srirama Notebooks has the expertise and infrastructure to deliver.

Conclusion

In summary, notebook manufacturers produce a broad spectrum of notebooks to meet various needs. From spiral and hardcover notebooks to sketchbooks and eco-friendly options, the diversity in notebook types is vast. The role of advanced printing services such as digital printing service and 3D printing service has become crucial in enhancing the quality, customization, and production efficiency of notebooks.

Companies like Srirama Notebooks exemplify the innovation and dedication found in the notebook manufacturing industry. If you are looking for a reliable note book manufacturing company or book manufacturing company that combines tradition with modern printing technology, Srirama Notebooks is a brand you can trust.

[seriyali]

Where to Get Custom Notebooks Printing in Abu Dhabi

For corporate and educational uses, custom notebooks make a practical and efficient brand vehicle. Whether corporate giveaways or schoolbooks, notebooks printed custom can be configured to meet your specific need and requirement. If you're looking for notebooks printing in Abu Dhabi, you've landed on the correct page—there are several solid options around, and Seryali is one of the finest providers you may want to look at on quality and ease of use.

This guide will take you through the process of having your notebooks printed in Abu Dhabi and why Seryali is better than the rest.

Why Custom Notebooks Are Important

Custom notebooks are not just utility devices. Here's why they are better than the rest:

Brand Image: A logo notebook designed by you makes your brand.

Event Promotion: Suitable for seminars, workshops, or distribution.

Scholarly Tools: Subject-specific notebooks can be printed by schools and institutes.

Personal Use: Perfect for personalized gifts or everyday journaling.

Seryali – Your Faithful Companion for Notebook Printing in Abu Dhabi

Seryali has one of the most accommodating and consumer-oriented services when it comes to notebook printing in Abu Dhabi. Schools, companies, or individuals, Seryali offers:

Personal Designs: Design yours or let their experienced creatives do it for you.

Several Binding Styles: Spiral-bound, stitched, or perfect-bound styles to suit your needs.

Environment-Friendly Materials: Seryali ensures environment-friendly printing using recycled paper materials.

Bulk Order: Avail corporations, schools, or event organizers at rates.

Timely Delivery: They ensure quick turnarounds without any compromise on quality.

Their user-friendly online portal and live customer support make the entire experience smooth, right from design approval to delivery.

Other Notebook Printing Services in Abu Dhabi

Besides Seryali, there are a couple of more alternatives you might want to consider:

1. Musaffah's Local Printing Shops

Musaffah boasts a few trusted printing shops that provide personalized notebook services at affordable rates. They are suited for walk-in, immediate orders and one-on-one consultation.

2. Print Shops on Electra Street

Electra Street is also a new hot spot in Abu Dhabi which is famous for printing and stationery. These shops have fair deals for students and small businesses.

3. Online Printing Websites

Websites like Print Arabia and Vistaprint UAE provide online personalization but without the local personalized service provided by companies like Seryali.

What to Consider Before Printing

Before ordering notebooks printing in Abu Dhabi, consider the following:

Notebook Size: A5 and A4 are standard, but special sizes are available.

Paper Type: Select standard, premium, or recycled paper according to your needs.

Cover Style: Choose softcover, hardcover, or laminated.

Design Clarity: Employ high-resolution images and logos to provide optimal print quality.

Budget: Compare side-by-side and shop for under-the-table fees such as setup or design.

Personal notebooks are a smart, cost-effective option for daily use, study, and marketing. In case you work for a business company, own a school, or prefer personal notebooks, there are plenty of services providing notebook printing in Abu Dhabi. However, for the best experience, top-notch prints, and customer-centric service, Seryali is one name that you can trust.

With their friendly options, budget-friendly prices, and dedication to quality, Seryali prints your personalized notebooks exactly the way you dreamed them up—if not even better.

Ready to begin? Contact Seryali today for premium notebooks printing in Abu Dhabi.

[culturesfinest]

Las vegas bling nevada spiral notebook dark Shopping lists, school notes or poems - 118 page spiral notebook with ruled line paper is a perfect companion in everyday life. The durable printed cover makes the owner proud to carry it everywhere. .: 118 ruled line pages (59 sheets) .: Front cover print .: Dark grey back cover Introducing the Las Vegas Bling Nevada Spiral Notebook, a dazzling stationery accessory that embodies the glamour and excitement of the iconic city it represents. This notebook is not just a tool for jotting down notes; it's a statement piece that captures the vibrant essence of Las Vegas, making it a perfect companion for anyone who loves a little sparkle and excitement in their daily life. The Las Vegas Bling Nevada Spiral Notebook is designed with a striking cover that immediately catches the eye. Adorned with glimmering rhinestones and a vivid illustration of the Las Vegas skyline, the cover showcases famous landmarks such as the Luxor Pyramid, the Stratosphere Tower, and the legendary Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign. The intricate design is a tribute to the city's dazzling lights and fast-paced energy, bringing a touch of Las Vegas magic to your everyday routine. Measuring 8.5 x 11 inches, this spiral notebook offers ample space for all your writing needs. Whether you're taking notes in class, jotting down ideas for your next big project, or simply doodling during your downtime, the generous page size allows for creativity without constraints. The high-quality paper is smooth and thick, ensuring that your pens and markers glide effortlessly across the page without any bleed-through or smudging. This durable paper is perfect for a variety of writing instruments, from ballpoint pens to gel pens and even fine-tip markers. The notebook features a sturdy spiral binding that not only provides a classic look but also allows for easy flipping of pages, making it ideal for both right-handed and left-handed users. The spiral binding ensures that the notebook lies flat when open, providing a stable surface for writing and making it easier to review your notes. The durable cover adds an extra layer of protection to your thoughts and ideas, ensuring they remain safe from everyday wear and tear. Inside, you'll find 120 lined pages that offer a structured format for organized note-taking. Each page is adorned with a subtle watermark of the Las Vegas skyline, adding a touch of elegance and continuity to the notebook's theme. This thoughtful design element serves as a constant reminder of the city's allure, inspiring you to dream big and reach for the stars. The Las Vegas Bling Nevada Spiral Notebook is more than just a practical accessory; it's a celebration of creativity and individuality. Its unique design makes it an excellent gift for anyone who appreciates a touch of glamour in their life. Whether you're a student, a professional, or a creative soul, this notebook is sure to spark inspiration and add a bit of bling to your daily routine. Perfect for capturing your thoughts, dreams, and goals, this notebook is a versatile companion that can be used for a variety of purposes. Use it as a diary to document your personal journey, a planner to organize your busy schedule, or a sketchbook to explore your artistic side. The possibilities are endless, and the choice is yours. In addition to its aesthetic appeal and practical functionality, the Las Vegas Bling Nevada Spiral Notebook is also an eco-conscious choice. Made from responsibly sourced materials, this notebook reflects your commitment to sustainability without compromising on style or quality. Elevate your stationery collection with the Las Vegas Bling Nevada Spiral Notebook, and let its sparkling design bring a touch of Las Vegas excitement to your everyday life. Whether you're a fan of the city or simply someone who loves a little extra shine, this notebook is sure to become a cherished part of your daily routine. Get ready to turn heads and capture attention as you jot down your thoughts in this eye-catching, glamorous notebook that perfectly embodies the spirit of Las Vegas.

[grassctzen123]

Brooo

I was showing this to my friends in the bus (fyi, this collage was made in a spiral bind notebook) and this fucking idiot in my bus, an 8th grader decided to grab it

It ripped halfway through

I take it back

He grabs it again

The entire page falls of and another page is also damaged

(I got his address and went to his mom directly after school to snitch. I could distinctly hear her screeching at him after she closed the door😀)

(The page is mostly fine, it's just a lil crumpled and completely detached, the ena spread was on the page opposite tho and now ena5 and mizu5 won't be facing each other 😰😰😰. Does anyone know how to re attach spiral bound pages without damaging the back side, cus I've written stuff on the back too.)

Mizu5 collage made by me!!!

Idk Japanese, so I Know the writing is messed up, but I tried ig😔

I have an ena5 collage prepared, but it's not complete cus the song's not out yet 😩

[creati79]

The Essentials of Wire Binding and Spiral Binding for Professional Document Presentation

In the ever-evolving world of document presentation, two binding methods have stood out for their efficiency, durability, and aesthetic appeal: Wire Binding and Spiral Binding. Both offer unique benefits, making them ideal choices for various binding needs.

Understanding Wire Binding

Wire binding, sometimes referred to as twin loop or double-loop binding, is a popular method for creating professional-looking documents. It involves the use of metal wires that are inserted through punched holes along the edge of the document. This method is highly regarded for its neat and elegant appearance, making it a preferred choice for business reports, presentations, and proposals.

One of the main advantages of wire binding is its durability. The metal wires used are strong and resilient, ensuring that the pages stay securely in place. This durability makes it an excellent option for documents that are frequently used or need to last for an extended period.

Another benefit of wire binding is its ability to lay flat when open, providing ease of use for reading and note-taking. Additionally, it allows for a 360-degree rotation of pages, making it convenient for photocopying and scanning.

Exploring Spiral Binding

Spiral binding, also known as coil binding, uses a plastic or metal coil that is threaded through holes punched along the side of the document. This method is favored for its flexibility and ability to withstand regular handling, making it an ideal choice for manuals, notebooks, and educational materials.

The flexibility of spiral binding is one of its key features. The coil allows the document to lay flat when open and can also be folded back on itself, which is particularly useful for reference materials and workbooks. This feature enhances the usability of the document, especially in environments where space is limited.

Spiral binding also offers a high level of customization. Coils come in various colors, allowing for a personalized touch that can match company branding or the theme of the document. This aesthetic flexibility is a significant advantage for businesses looking to maintain a consistent and professional image.

Comparing Wire and Spiral Binding

While both wire and spiral binding offer distinct advantages, the choice between them often depends on the specific needs of the document. Wire binding is typically chosen for its professional look and durability, making it suitable for business and formal presentations. On the other hand, spiral binding is favored for its flexibility and customization options, making it ideal for educational materials and frequently used manuals.

Conclusion

Both wire binding and spiral binding are excellent choices for various document presentation needs. Whether you prioritize durability and a professional appearance or flexibility and customization, these binding methods provide reliable solutions for presenting documents in a polished and functional manner. As the demand for high-quality document presentation continues to grow, understanding the nuances of these binding techniques becomes increasingly important for businesses and individuals alike.

Choosing the right binding method can significantly impact the perceived quality and usability of your documents. Whether it's a business proposal, a training manual, or a personal project, wire and spiral binding offer the perfect combination of functionality and aesthetics to meet your needs.

For more information on binding solutions, visit Wire Binding and Spiral Binding to explore a range of options suitable for your professional and personal document binding needs.

[happeninghippo]

All New Diaries and Planners! 

Who doesn't like pretty planners?

Our Evergreen Undated Planner features unique designs as the season's newest arrival.

This planner is your go-to cute diary to keep you productive and stylish all year round! You can use it as a bullet journal, study planner, notebook, and journal diary or set other agendas such as monthly goal planning, budgeting, and habit tracking.

Our high-quality planners are made from 100 GSM coloured paper. They come in beautiful matt hardcover and feature unique artwork with stunning designs! 

Inspired by nature's elegance, the supernatural and treasures of the plant kingdom are highlighted with the beauty of chirping birds. Each spellbinding design tells a story with hidden meanings and transports you to times gone by.

Do you like/want to:

Plan things out beforehand

Maintain records of every step 

Write Notes

Draw out your imagination

Be artistic

Then this planner is the only thing you will ever want. 

Don't miss out anymore on capturing all your fleeting thoughts!

Use this planner diary to bring out your creative side along with your thoughts and ideas to always keep them safe inside this notebook. 

An idea you might love- These planners are great for gifting too.

Here is your chance to unlock creativity!Details: Size: A5 Cover Type: Matt Hard cover Pages: 100 GSM colored paper Binding: Spiral Bound

What’s inside? An illustrated start for every month Monthly calendar layout Vision board Daily write up section Budget tracker Section to improve on personal or professional growth Month review

[anujprintland-blog]

Print your customized notebooks for yourself or for your Company use with Printland for the simplest quality of style and printing. To Know More Please visit: https://lnkd.in/gA_cY4p    https://bit.ly/2PoqWc6

[zaby-i-krowy]

So I’ve had to deal with the absolute worst customer in my entire working career ever this past week. (It’s Rose at the Notre Dame university bookstore in case anyone was wondering) apologies in advance, it’s going to be long

So for this school we have two “titles” that are basically just boxes of lab equipment. There’s a lock, goggles, a lab coat, a notebook, and an access card for the online book. These are shipped as individual boxes since there’s a good amount of materials. This is different from what we usually send to stores, which would be boxes of multiple notebooks. I mention this bc the store manager, Rose made such a damned big deal about it.

So the whole ordeal started at the beginning of the month when my boss CC-ed me on an email conversation with Rose letting her know that she was going to be out of town so to contact me with any questions or requests for her order of the two bundles we had for the school. She ended the email with “hopefully things go smoothly this year” so already I have a bad feeling that this is going to be difficult.

Rose emails me to let me know that this is a time when they receive a lot of deliveries at their store (she specifically mentioned receiving football equipment in addition to books and school supplies) so she wanted to make sure that their order of nearly 1000 bundles could be split into smaller orders with only one order arriving per day to make sure that they weren’t overwhelmed at the store. A bit of an annoying request, but not impossible for us to attempt to accommodate. The only thing being that once an order leaves our warehouse we have zero control over how long it takes to deliver or when it gets delivered so I told Rose that I was putting notes on her orders so that they would hopefully ship on different days and then be delivered on different days. And she again reminded me that they needed the orders to arrive just as she specified. Okay, fine, I’m doing what I can.

Now, unfortunately, we’ve been having delays it’s getting materials and books in stock on time this season bc our printers are all short staffed and they can only print and ship so much at a time. So the bundles are already going to be a little later than expected. We had a team of people putting the boxes together at our satellite warehouse last last week so we could get them shipped out last week.

So we finally get things together and get the first order shipped out Tuesday. This first order was for 85 boxes of one title (11181) and 150 copies of the other (11171) and the manager at the satellite warehouse gets it shipped out Tuesday last week. On Wednesday I send Rose an email with the tracking information (I had to wait for our regular warehouse manager to get me the info bc the satellite manager was out all of last week after Tuesday) and at 4:56 Wednesday evening I get the following email from Rose:

“Beth, do you realize we already got three skids today? You sent a skid of 11181 when we only wanted 85 and two skids of 11171. Please do not send any more of 11181 and I will write up everything tomorrow and you can arrange a call tag to pick up the others. This is a hot mess and the paperwork the driver had was wrong and we have damaged cases as well. Way to go..........................”

So I was about to lose my mind at this. Not only was it at the end of the day, but she was incredibly rude over something that was genuinely a mistake and moreso, not my fault! The editor in charge of the projects wanted to respond to her that evening, but I told her that, quite frankly, I was off for the day and Rose didn’t deserve any of my unpaid time. Plus i wanted to hear back from the warehouse to see their end in case something happened so they sent out more than they were supposed to or if Rose was just stupid and we did what we said we would and it just wasn’t exactly what she was expecting. So the editor sent Rose a message saying that I’d get back to her in the morning with more information and I went to dinner w my parents and papa so that I wouldn’t punch a hold thru a wall in anger

So Thursday morning I get in to an email from our main warehouse manager (since the satellite manager was out the rest of the week) letting me know that we had sent three skids for the order. Because each skid holds 96 boxes. So, since the order was for 235 boxes, it physically had to ship as three skids. I was fucking giddy as I typed my response to Rose, spelling out why she received three skids and letting her know that I would be holding her remaining four orders for 150 of 11171 each until I got the go-ahead from her that she was okay with the fact that the orders would be one and a half skids each.

Well, Rose emails back that we actually sent three full skids instead of one full and two partials. She included the phrase “believe it or not, I can count” and then after reiterating how she wanted her orders sent said, “My next suggestion would be to fulfill my orders as requested going forward.” And asked if they’d be getting another order that day. So I typed up a very off-color response to her informing her how obnoxious and cunty I thought she was being and how her attitude was helping exactly zero people and quite honestly making me feel less inclined to be helpful at all. And then I typed up a nicer response and asked my boss for read it over to make sure that it was professional and appropriate. In my email i let her know that we only had the paperwork to go off of as the warehouse manager who put the shipment out was out of the office, so we legitimately did not know that she received more than what was on her order and that, no I had held her other orders to make sure that she was okay with how they were going to be shipped, but I could put them in and hopefully get the next one shipped out that day or Friday.

At that point, she got the other manager at their store involved who emailed Friday morning to ask me to confirm they’d be getting the rest of their order that day as they had students arriving on campus who would need them. I informed her that no, we hadn’t shipped anything else yet and said that it was bc our satellite warehouse was short staffed (which is essentially true. There’s one person who works in that warehouse— the manager— and he’d been out all week) so Rose jumped back in to say “Just to make certain I understand correctly, there hasn't been another order shipped since the first delivery? We need to get on the ball with this order short staffed or not folks!!”

At that point i was beyond pissed. They were asking for something above and beyond what we do normally, and we were doing everything we could to keep them placated, including shipping the rest of their orders for free, but there’s literally only so much we can do with the staff that we have. So, after venting into an empty word doc, I responded with “That is correct. We wanted to make sure that we wouldn't overwhelm you with multiple orders in a day, like you asked, and since the first shipment went out incorrectly, we wanted to be sure that it didn't happen again. Unfortunately that means that we aren't able to schedule a pickup from the shipper until Monday as it took some time to confirm that the rest of the shipments were okay to go forward per your instructions. The remaining shipments will be going out all of next week, but if you need us to send more than one order at a time, please let me know and I can coordinate with our warehouse team to make sure that happens.” (Also I’m now realizing that rose never actually confirmed that we could/should ship the rest of the orders so that’s a fun thing) as this was going on, I was trying to coordinate with our warehouse manager to see if we could get the next order out and (as my dad who works in that warehouse told me) they were basically running around asking every shipper who came by that day if they could take the order bc the store’s preferred shipper wasn’t available to pick it up. But we finally managed to get it picked up and shipped around 1 Friday afternoon

So, Rose, in all of her Karen-ness responds “In what world would it be, as the buyer, my fault for making and having confirmation of shipping directions the reason why your company has failed??” Funnily enough, that email sent me passed pissed off to just calm and I’d started typing a response when a message from my boss (who had been CC-ed on the entire conversation) popped up saying “take a minute, step away from your computer, then respond” so I laughed to myself and explained to Rose that I wasn’t trying to blame her (yes I was) but that I was only trying to explain why I was being so cautious and why there would be a gap in their shipments. Of course, then I get an email from the other store manager saying that she wished we had communicated the delay in shipments ahead of time and that if that had happened they would have been able to tell us that it mattered more that they received the boxes on time, not that they were received separately as originally requested, ending with “I would have thought this would be a logical conclusion on your part, so the mistake was mine in thinking that.”

And that’s when I realized that this manager (Becky) hadn’t been informed of everything that actually had happened and most likely just got the bitching from Rose that we’d messed up and it was all our fault that they wouldn’t be getting the boxes on time. So I got to inform her that I had told Rose immediately that we were going to be holding the remainder of her orders until we got the ok from her to ship since she’d been so upset with how the first shipment had arrived.

So once I’d gotten that all explained and smoothed out, I got an email from the freaking Macmillan rep for the area who’s been “filled in” on the situation and wanted to make sure that we were going to be able to get the store what they needed and when 🙄 and she followed up this morning to make sure that we’d done what we said. So we got the order delivered today, another one that’s either been delivered since or is being delivered tomorrow, a third that’s either tomorrow or Wednesday, and the last order that’s shipping tomorrow being delivered Wednesday or Thursday depending on shipping times.

Behind the scenes, I wasn’t aware, but my boss’s boss and his (new) boss had also been filled in about the situation and my boss had explained our half of the story, so I got a message from my boss’s boss thanking me for handling the situation and that he thought it had handled the situation well and professionally and that it was “100% the fault of an extremely difficult customer”

I’m just so Done with this and I hope to God I don’t ever have to deal with this store in the future

[jessepinwheel]

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