#i have an art book coming out next week btw

[70sscifiart]

Hi, long time follower. I just wanted to say that with only 4 days till the your artbook is shipped to me, I'm so excited!

Awesome, I hope you like it! I love this art so much, and it's great/surreal to see it all actually in print in 2023, haha

[cellophaine]

Chapter IV: ALL

Masterlist

Pairing: Art Donaldson x F!Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for uploading late! Editing this chapter took wayyyy longer than I thought.

Anything in italic is text messages (except for the very last line at the end of this chapter). Reader's messages start with –

GIF Source: Pinterest

The big window by the sink let the rectangle of sunlight into the kitchen, warming the tiled floor as you made your way to the dining area. You sat down with a bowl of cereal and the reading material for next week's lecture. Halfway through the bowl, the door to Ashley's room opened. Her footsteps sounded, bringing her into the kitchen. She whispered a soft hello as she walked by you and poured a cup of coffee that you had brewed earlier for her and Grace. Ashley raised her mug.

"Thank you for this."

You gave her a quick glance from behind your book. 

"You're welcome. When did you get home last night?"

"Hm, like 4 ish?"

She shrugged.

"Did anyone walk with you?"

"Yes, don't worry. Marissa's brother walked me home."

You put the book down.

"Speaking of Marissa, how did it go with her?"

Ashley's mouth widened into a smile, and she quickly dropped onto the chair beside yours. 

"It was amazing! She was amazing! We talked so much and she was everything I could've ever wanted in a girlfriend. We're going to a concert together in November."

Her happiness was so infectious that you found yourself smiling with her. She leaned into your chair and grabbed you by your shoulders.

"Thank you. Thank you for coming with me. If you didn't come with me and give me a confidence boost, I wouldn't have had the courage to even introduce myself."

You squeezed her hand. 

"You're very welcome. I'm glad it worked out for you."

She let you go but still maintained the closeness.

"What about you? Did you have fun?"

"It was … fine."

The memories of last night poured into your head and drew a soft smile on your lips. You tried to hide it, but Ashley's inquisitive eyes didn't let you off the hook that easily.

"Just fine? Didn't you leave with someone?"

"I–"

"Yes, you did. I remember him. Tall, blond guy. Real cute."

"Uh, yeah. He is blond. And tall, I guess."

And, of course, he was cute, but you didn't agree out loud. 

"Did you guys hook up last night?"

"Ashley!"

"Come on, it's a valid question."

"Doesn't make it appropriate."

She squinted at you. You relented.

"Okay, okay. We didn't… hook up. He just walked me home."

"And ... ?"

"I kissed him good night. Just his cheek, not on his lips."

Your face burned at the confession. Ashley seemed thrilled as she grabbed your shoulder.

"That's great! You're putting yourself out there. I'm so proud of you!"

"I wouldn't say that I'm putting myself out there."

"Baby steps. Besides, I just want you to enjoy yourself, you know? I basically ditched you last night after talking to Marissa, and also, you're always either cooped up in here or at the library."

You opened your mouth to deny it, but Ashley didn't let you.

"Yes, you are. I live with you. You don't go out with anyone, even with me or Grace. I know that we have our fun here, at home, but it's not the same. You should get out there and enjoy your youth while you can. Grace and I are here for you."

"I know, and I appreciate you two." 

Ashely gave you another squeeze on your shoulder, and you gave her a reassuring mind. You stood up and took the empty bowl with you.

"By the way, I didn't expect a lecture on a Saturday."

Ashley shrugged.

"Well, you needed it."

You waved her off as you made your way to your room. You checked your phone on the dresser and opened the new message that came in about eight minutes ago.

Hey, I know there's a rule of not texting a girl the 3 days after getting her number, but I can't wait that long.

So, good afternoon. I hope you slept well.

You smiled, thinking of a response when another message came through.

This is Art btw.

You chuckled to yourself, typing out a reply.

– Interesting. I didn't know that was a rule. That must mean you're a very impatient man :)

When it comes to you, I can be ;)

You shook your head at another relentless flirt. 

– I did sleep well. I hope you did as well.

It was one of the best sleep I've had this semester.

– Oh yeah? Did you dream about me?

You bit your lip, feeling your boldness surge and wane in a few seconds as you waited for his text. You were afraid that you were being too forward and regretted the text when your phone vibrated.

How did you know?

– Just a feeling :P

Weird question, but are you working today?

– Yes, my shift starts at 5. Why?

I'll see you then :)

Art showed up at the coffee shop, as promised. You made him a drink with a heart drawn on his cup. He kept you company throughout the idle night, and the four hours went by much quicker than it would have been if he wasn't there. You talked between customers, your conversation flowed easily. He helped you close the shop at the end of the night. You cleaned up behind the counter and kitchen while Art wiped down tables and set the chairs on top of them. After you were done inside, you headed out to bring the few patio seatings in. Art playfully pushed you aside as you reached for a table, shaking his head at you. He picked it up so effortlessly, making his biceps bulge in the form-fitting shirt. You held the door for him as he walked by.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"Why? You're not getting paid for this."

"I don't care about that. I just want to hang out with you."

"You're relentless."

After locking up the cafe, the two of you headed downtown and grabbed dinner from a food truck. You walked to the park nearby, found a bench and table, and sat down across from each other. The cool evening air caressed your heated skin like a soft kiss. Afterward, Art walked you home, and you departed with a peck on his cheek. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect day to follow the night before. And the idyll mood unfurled its reach into the following days. From time to time, you would walk to classes, to Art's practices, to the library. You'd trail the miles on campus ground, spending it in comfortable silence or indulgent conversations. You looked forward to his texts throughout the day, a call here and there from time to time. It felt like a dream; an unreal sequence kept unfolding into more of its splendour. 

One day, Art called you during your movie night with Grace and Ashley. You went to your room and closed the door.

"Hey, Art. What's up?"

"Hey. Remember the match I told you? They announced it this afternoon, and it's next Thursday at 2. Would you like to come?"

"Hold on, let me check my schedule."

Your heart dropped when you saw the schedule in your notebook. 

"I'd love to, but ... I have my modern poetry class at 2."

There was a brief silence on his end, but it came to an abrupt end. 

"That's okay. I understand."

"I'll make it up to you."

"Promise?"

"Promise. I'll buy you an ice cream."

The day of the match finally came. Besides a good luck text, which Art responded with a smiley face and not much else, you felt apprehensive. Even though you couldn't see his face, you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was disappointed. You remembered Art telling you that his parents rarely saw him play, and your heart wavered. Standing in front of the lecture hall, you stared at the time on your phone. Only seven minutes until two. 

You put your phone in your bag and ran. Your mind mapped out the quickest route to get to the court, your feet followed closely. You weaved through people, apologizing as they dodged you. Your bag bumped against your side, and at a particularly hard turn, it flew to the ground. You kneeled and hastily shoved the few things that fell out inside when you noticed that the strap was ripped from the spot where it was sewn onto the bag. You cursed, knowing that the patch-up job you did last time wasn't enough. But it'd have to wait. With one hand holding your broken bag to the side of your body, you picked up the pace. Your lungs burned in your chest, and the muscles in your legs begged you to slow down, but you pushed through. You ran for the gate to the audience seatings, and when you finally arrived, the pounding of your steps disturbed the silence of the court.

It looked like the match was about to start. The umpire looked at you from his seat, as did some others in the audience. One of them even shushed you. You said sorry in their direction and felt the embarrassment quickly seep in, but it quickly faded into the background when you saw Art with his gaze fixed on you. You were too far away to tell, but the smile on his lips told you that your presence here was welcomed. 

You nodded at him before breaking eye contact. You scurried to the first empty row, even though it was a little further back. 

The game began.

The way Art played was something. People's heads turned as the neon green ball bounced back and forth, but your focus was mainly on Art and the way he moved. There was a quiet confidence about him. His strokes were composed but never lacked precision and force, as if he anticipated the shots with great accuracy and calculation. The arch of his wingspan was beautiful as he followed through with the racquet, gracefully caught the ball, and bounced it back to the other side. His movement was fluid; his run to meet the ball was agile. Whenever he hit the ball, he let out a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a moan, and you wondered if he would verbalize the same noises if you kissed him. Art was graceful on the court, his demeanour calm, while his opponent seemed to run short on patience as he struggled to secure the lead.

The second set ended with Art temporarily holding the advantage. He went to his seat after the break was announced. As he took a sip of water, his gaze roamed around in the audience. You waved at him from your seat. His eyes found you, the corners softened as he looked at you. He winked before returning his attention to his coach. Your inside warmed, more so than the sun on your skin. 

Art won the match to the cheers from the audience. You stood up and joined them, pride blooming in your chest as he beamed. He found you in the audience, holding eye contact for a long moment. You hoped he could see just how happy you were for him. Eventually, he was the first to break. 

You met up near the recreation center a while after the match. Art had changed into a blue-green blouse with white stripes and blue jeans. He sauntered to you.

"Congratulations. I knew you would win."

He scratched the back of his neck.

"Maybe I only won because you're my lucky charm."

"Oh, please. It was all you."

"I'm serious. Did you skip class?"

"Yes, I did. It's fine, though. I liked seeing you play. You were great."

Art fell into silence. His eyes could barely contain the beginning of a deluge of emotion, and before you could dissect it, he drew you in for a hug. You went still for a moment before wrapping your arms around his torso. An artificial scent of apple invaded your senses, and you couldn't help but bring your nose closer to his neck. He eased his lips towards the shell of your ear and whispered.

"Thank you for being here."

The timbre of his voice was low, travelled through your ear and resonated deep in your stomach. You wanted to shiver so the effect that he had on you would have an outlet to express itself. Instead, you took a shaky breath, allowing more of his smell to occupy your mind.

"You're welcome."

After a long moment, Art pulled back. You found the absence of his warmth inflicted an unpleasant feeling.  

"Hey, uh, so … I was wondering if you would like to– you can say no, obviously, it's up to you ..."

He trailed off, leaving you with a question.

"What is it?"

"Do you want to stay and check out a match with me?"

You shrugged.

"Sure. I already skipped my class; I have nothing else to do anyway."

"Great. Let's go. We can get good seats if we go now."

/

Tashi Duncan walked onto the court after the announcement. There were more people here compared to Art's match, and most, if not all of them, were excited to see Tashi if the deafening cheer was any indication. Her confidence exuded from the way she walked to her chair to the way she did her stretch routine. You recognized her as the girl Art talked to at the party. The white dress she had on complimented her slim form, and she looked just as beautiful as you remembered. You turned to Art. 

"People seem to really like Tashi."

Art tore his gaze away from Tashi, giving you a split of attention.

"She's an excellent player. There's no one quite like her on court."

You nodded, taking in the high praise. 

"You'll see what I mean when you see her play."

"Great. I'm excited."

You debated with yourself for a brief second, but then, you decided to go for it.

"Do you guys know each other?"

Art looked at you through his lashes. There was hesitation in the way he came up with a response.

"Yeah, I'd say so. She's… seeing Patrick."

"Oh, right. Your friend from boarding school."

It took you a moment, but you recalled Patrick. He nodded. The match commenced shortly after that. 

You understood what Art meant. Tashi was mesmerizing to watch. She was relentless, making her opponent work for it. Her passion was palpable, and the tenacious grip she had over the game was impressive. 

"She's amazing."

You whispered to Art after the other player failed to return the ball. Without turning to look at you, he replied. 

"I know."

You observed Art as his eyes stuck on Tashi. Neither of them was the wiser to being perceived, but you witnessed it all. There was a look in his eyes like he was so far away; he had gone to a place you couldn't reach. An inkling of an idea slowly trickled into your mind, but you prevented yourself from exploring. You steered your thoughts away. You were well aware of your tendency to think of the worst possible thing in every situation. You ruined the good thing before it even had the chance to run its course or destroy itself.

As much as you had tried, the thought still bothered you as you fixed your bag later that night. Twin Peaks played on the TV as you absentmindedly listened to what was happening. Grace sat on the other end of the couch, knitting a sweater. After a while, she held it up and called your name.

"I'm almost done with my mom's gift. What do you think?"

You looked up from your own project. On the green sweater, there was a pixelated picture of a Golden Retriever with the name 'Cheese' at the bottom.

"Holy shit. It's amazing!"

"Thank you! I hope she'll like it."

"Is her birthday coming soon?"

"No, this is her Christmas gift."

"Halloween was only five days ago."

"I know. I just want to get it done so I won't be stressed out during finals."

"That's fair."

It was the beginning of November, and even though Christmas was over. a month away, Grace had already started on her family's gifts since September. You thought about your own list, wondering if you should get more despite knowing what your parents really wanted. You just need one more paycheck to complete it. 

An idea struck, and you turned to Grace.

"Can you teach me how to knit?"

/

Winter came along with finals. Between study sessions with your roommates, you couldn't hang out with Art much. He had his own grades to worry about. You would hang out whenever the two of you could find the time, and even then, it was far and few between. During a walk to the library, Art asked.

"Are you going home this Christmas?"

The question made dread crawl down your spine. Despite being together often, you avoided talking about your family.

"Yes, I am. What about you?"

"Me too. My family's going to Vermont to ski on the 27th."

"Have fun. Show me pictures when you get back."

Art told you that he wouldn't be back at Stanford until the 4th, and you solemnly nodded. That meant less time spent with him before the semester started, but he promised that the two of you would make up for it.

On the 18th, the day he left Stanford, Art asked to meet up at a bookstore near campus. The doorbell rang out in the quiet store, with Christmas music playing softly in the background. You sent Art a message. 

– I'm here. Where are you?

Come find me.

It took you about two minutes to find him standing in a random fiction aisle with a hand behind his back. The aisle was empty except for him, making you feel like you were the only people in this bookstore. You took your time as you ambled to him and only stopped when there was a small distance in between.

"Hi."

"Hi."

You looked around and asked.

"Why this aisle?"

"Because …"

Art pointed to the spot next to his shoulder.

"… one day, your name will be here."

You read the names beside the small empty spot and realized what he meant. Your last name would go there between these authors. You frowned, feeling your emotions surge in a way that you weren't sure you could control. Art took the hand out from behind, revealing a gift bag.

"For you."

You looked at him. 

"You didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to. Open it, please."

You pushed the tissue paper aside and gasped. Inside was a leather bag; its rich brown colour shone under the overhead light. There was a golden tennis racquet charm attached to the end of the strap. You held it in your hand, marvelling at its golden sheen.

"Now you'll have a piece of me anywhere you go."

"Not anywhere. Just classes."

He chuckled at your quick-witted joke. Overwhelmed, you managed to mutter.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

You dug into your old bag with one hand, pulling out a brown bag decorated with Christmas trees. 

"This is for you. Open it."

Art's eyes sparked an intrigue. You could barely contain the pounding of your heart as he reached into the bag and pulled out your gift. He pulled the entirety of it out, caressing the soft material with his hand. The Oxford blue scarf was theresult of your hard work and after many mistakes. Art ran his finger over the small heart you added at the end of the scarf. His lack of reaction worried you.

"I know it's not a fancy gift, and the stitching is off in some parts, and after I had already done half of it, I realized that this is California, so you probably won't get much use out of it anyway, so maybe I should get you a different gift ..."

Art stopped your rambling by taking hold of your trembling hand.

"I love it. It's perfect. Thank you."

A spark of happiness gleamed in his eyes. For a long moment, you basked in the silence together, the air weighed down with the things you didn't speak out loud. You didn't want to leave this place. That meant leaving this moment behind, even though all you wanted to do was bottle it up and bring it with you to the outside world, because the essence of the memory could never compare to this feeling. 

"I miss you already."

Art whispered, and an overwhelming urge took over. You stepped into his space, pressing your bodies together. You raised on your tiptoes and tilted your head up. His lips met yours halfway. You were careful with one another, and the touch was gentle. His lips were soft on yours, moving at a slow pace, discovering your shared rhythm. You needed more, so your hand winded around to rest at the nape of his neck, urging him closer. Your tongue darted out, tasting him. The way he eagerly responded to your call made your head spin. Your tongues found each other, licking and tasting at a fervent pace. His hand on your jaw drew you in, and the other rested on the small on your back, pulling you flush with his body. You gasped, allowing his tongue to dive deeper. You kissed until you were too breathless and had to pull back. You rested your forehead on his as you breathed hard, taking in each other's air into your lungs. His eyes were glossy and dazed, and there was so much want in them that you felt like you were the prized possession. You gravitated towards each other once more as if pulled by opposing magnetic forces, as if you couldn't help yourselves.

/

Back in your room, you admired the gift Art got you. You opened the bag, and in one of the compartments, there was a notebook. The cover was a mossy green colour, and you wondered if Art left it in there by accident. You opened the first page to find Art's neat handwriting. 

For you and your brilliant ideas. I can't wait to read your first book.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! I'd love to read your thoughts on the story!

For updates, please follow @cellophaine-archives

[atypical-artisan]

Abusing my birthday to talk about all the Burnt bread fics in the fandom yeehaw

(This is a preview for my next fic recs post btw lmao- hopefully it's out by april)

There aren't too many of these, excluding my own fics ofc, most of them are on ao3 so that's where all but 4 will be coming from. All are in order of release!

Starting with the sfw fics:

Written in Fine Print » by philosonica- Chapter 1/ Misunderstanding- 10/10. Fun fact, this fic got me SHIPPING these two goobers in the first place. Its a more introspective piece following Aran and his internal monologue thinking about how he struggles to get along with the other boxers and esp his one-sided crush/fascination with Joe. Its such well written angst and has informed some of my own writing by now. It hurt my heart so bad I wanted Aran to have a happy ending and Joe fall in love with him dhdbdb. It also hits close to home with my own personal struggles of socializing. Aran's also a bit of a weirdo asshole here, it made me cringe and squirm and I love it.

~

The Best in the Worst by gorebot/That-artsy-virgo- 8/10. This is a fic on ao3 under the "Punch out oneshots" name and on DA as it's own fic. It's an extremely cute high-school au (I believe) that follows Aran and Joe having a meet cute at a party and running from the cops. Aside from some minor spelling mistakes it's a cute little crumb of a fic and a charming read.

One Mistake by gorebot/That-artsy-virgo- 7/10. From the same ao3 fic as the previous and also on DA. It's a nice angsty oneshot following Joe finding out Aran is trans and trying to be supportive all while Aran is deeply upset. Overall cute! Some points subtracted because of odd wording/spelling that pulled me from the story but again still very nice!

~

Just a Sketchy Guy by Virdemption- 9/10. This one is honestly way too funny for its own good. From hinting that Kaiser got Joe into homestuck to Aran's shipping jokes it's VERY funny. At the same time it's an extremely cute look into Joe and Aran bonding over silly art. Shit like this makes me giggle ♡.

~

Act Out! by JesterrDraws- 6.5/10. An actor/filming au for punch out. The burnt bread here is very mild, only appearing in 3 chapters, and hasn't yet peeked into Aran's mind so it gets a lower rating. However the moments there are cute as hell! It mostly focuses on Joe having a little crush and Aran flirting a bit but still sweet and pleasant, I hope the op continues soon!

~

Punch Out Imagines, One-Shots, ETC by GoEatDoorMoss-

Secret admirer- 8.5/10. A cute oneshot I requested a while back and Matt did a fantastic job with the prompt! It changed what I asked for a little but in a way I was pleasantly surprised with! It follows Joe looking for a secret admirer leaving gifts in his locker week after week. Despite a few bits of clunky wording it's a very very cute story that I reread quite a few times a year.

The Claw- 10/10. Another request of mine on Matt's book. This one is longer and much cuter than the last as it follows Aran and Joe going on a date and encountering shenanigans. Its funny and sweet and a strong jump in quality from the previous fic! It also has art to go along with it so I had to give it extra points.

~

A Cheater's Reason (WIP) by K1TT3N69- 7/10. A fic with seriously good potential here!! It follows Aran and his life as a cheater until his mother passes. Its currently unfinished but still quite interesting imho! I adore the concept and the hints set up but it's very hard to read due to lack of formatting.

~

The Potluck by Tonitheloftwing- 8.5/10. Fun fic with a chapter dedicated to burnt bread!! It's mostly about mac recovering from top surgery and coming out to the other boxers but the hints at other ships and the burnt bread confession chapter was cute as hell.

~

a blue jean serenade by CobbleCritters- 10/10. While this is a mostly don/tiger centric fic it does feature burnt bread and boy howdy it does their relationship well! It's a cool little band au that has Aran as a drummer and Joe as a photographer. Their already in a relationship and we get to see cute moments of affection alongside hard lows between them. Its a really great and complex representation!!

~

Le Draguer by FauxFoe_Punch- 9.5/10. Its a bit hard to say what the fic is about since it's still unfinished, but it's a Burnt bread semi-slowburn! It's not only very very funny (made me laugh every chapter) but it's incredibly sweet and well written. So many of the lines and descriptions are beautifully absurd, i can't pick a favorite. The only complaint I have is that the chapter cutoffs feel off but otherwise a great fic i highly recommend!

~

Glass Cafe by Globofchaos- 6.5/10. Very cool concept of Joe joining an mma ring thanks to Mac and Aran. It has a lot of cool ideas like a Narcis and Joe rivalry, Mac being disabled, Joe being freshly immigrated. Cool stuff! It has a lot of formatting and spelling issues though so it's hard to read. But I'm excited to see where the story goes!

~

Never gonna change by Globofchaos- 7/10. Another super interesting concept, this time with glass Joe suddenly getting stronger and more intimidating. First chapter is very negative with Aran being casually mean, Joe being heartbroken, and the bruisers bullying Joe, though it does look up later in the chapter. The second chapter focuses on disco and don which was fun! It's still hard to read due to formatting and spelling errors but I'm interested to where this one would go too!

A sudden change by Globofchaos- 8/10. Only one chapter, i think it's meant to be a companion piece to 'never gonna change or perhaps the third chapter? Idk. Either way it felt much cleaner, half focusing on mac and Aran's sister talking about Joe and the last section having Aran propose a date. Cute and I'm excited to see more!

~

Smutty fics under the cut!!

Gap Year by BarginBin- 8/10. This fic is so cute (and horny lmao). It follows Joe taking Aran in after he's kicked out and taking a gap year in Paris together, Joe manages to get fat and they get horny about it. Fun read if ur into that stuff!

L’Oiseau D’Eau by Jacksfilmsgavememegalophobia- 10/10. This bad boy is about Aran and Joe getting stuck in traffic and Joe pissing himself, romantic and sexual tension ensue. As one comment so beautifully put it 'I never thought a fic about glass Joe pissing himself could be so beautifully written'- amen. Seriously it's very unhorny (For now) but it gets the kink across wonderfully and I highly recommend to those who like this sort of thing.

French Berry Press by YourLocalGarbageSkunkXOXO- 8/10. Joe turns into a Blueberry after eating a muffin and him and Aran fuck about it. What more can I say? This is just good, Kinky, fun tbh. It honestly makes me kick my feet and giggle not necessarily because it's full of jokes but because the premise is very silly and funny. The style all around is well written and sweet, the sex especially is fun! Has formatting issues and can be hard to read but not too bad.

That one wattpad fic that stole my works and others- 0/10. Ngl I'm still bitter abt this one. I won't share it's name since the plagiristic parts have been removed but I'm still so mad how the person not only stole my work but then tried to recton the shit they stole to make it not t4t and in an intersexist way too. The fic has stopped updating since I told them off and chewed them out on ao3 but it still hurt enough that I hid my work for a time.

Irish-French Rodeo by Anonymous- 10/10. Its literally just Joe being Tommy and eating Aran out. Its so fucking sexy and fun I love it to bits. Its got that perfect balance of descriptions, humor, and sexyiness that I can't get enough of. This is the quality I want out of my own work.

[jeannereames]

do we have any idea of what hephaistion actually looked like??

Hephaistion’s Image

I finally have access to my books again, so tackling this much-delayed query. The short answer, unfortunately, is…

We haven’t got a bloody clue what he looked like.

Curtius tells us he was larger in physique/taller than Alexander, and nice-looking (3.12.16), but in a manly way (7.9.19). Lysippos and Philon both made portraits of him, and Aetion painted him into his “Marriage of Alexander and Roxane.” After his death, other Hetairoi at court commissioned portraits of him to please Alexander. None of these images survive.*

We have just ONE named statue of him, originally from Pella, now in the Thessaloniki Museum (photo mine). Even though it’s labeled, it’s a generic image. It’s not what he looked like. All other statues called “Hephaistion” are guesswork.

The difficulty with ancient portraiture is that, too often, busts/statues don’t come down to us labeled. If enough do, we can create a “portraiture tradition,” which means certain distinguishing features became standardized across (virtually) all images, allowing us to identify an individual. Then we can look at unlabeled statues/busts and say, “Yeah, that’s ___.” **

Another problem is the tendency for Greek sculptors to make shit up. Recall that at certain points in history, portraiture didn’t exist. Nobody making busts of, say, Homer knew what he’d looked like. All those statues labeled “Homer”? That’s just what later sculptors thought he ought to have looked like, down to the closed “blind” eyes. Folks, we’re not even sure Homer was blind! This mythologizing is related to another tendency in Greek sculpture called “idealizing.”

So, some quick art-history terminology … we have three basic ways of talking about people in ancient sculpture: idealized (and mythologized), a portrait, and a likeness. The latter two are not the same. A portrait means a recognizable person (those standardized features), but it may differ according to workshop style or be partly idealized. (The Akropolis head of Alexander below is partly idealized; it’s Alexander “prettied-up.”) By contrast a likeness looks like the person, warts and all. Portraiture was FAR more popular. It’s no different from the various filters you can apply to photos today before posting them on social media. A likeness is the plain image the camera takes before you “fix” it.

By the Archaic period into Classical Greece, we see a drive towards accuracy in anatomy, but aiming for what they considered physical perfection. They’d use Olympic (or other contest) victors to model (male) bodies, and the face would be a generic ideal young man (ephebe). This will be oval with smooth cheeks, a round chin, straight nose, small bow mouth and high, smooth forehead with level, almond eyes. The hair is tightly coiled and close to the skull.

This ideal ephebe is the ancient version of a male model. If you walk around the National Museum in Athens, you’ll see dozens of faces just like it, especially on the gods. Btw, it wouldn’t photograph that well—features aren’t sharp enough—which is why our modern canons of beauty have morphed a bit.

Art historians (or even just those of us who’ve spent decades looking at these statues) are decent at picking out these “generic” faces. I’m giving you a few below, so you can see. The first is Hermes, the second the Marathon boy, and the third is the Getty head of “Hephaistion.” This is why we say that’s not a portrait.+

Now, go back and look at the image of “Hephaistion” on the dedication bas-relief above. You’ll see why we say it’s generic ephebe-style. To understand why, it’s important to know how these stone-carving workshops operated.

It takes time to make these. So, if you want a tombstone or dedicatory plaque, you don’t walk in and order one from scratch to be delivered next week … or even next month. For something wholly original, it takes months, and you’re expected to pay accordingly. Only the very wealthy can afford individualized portraits or statue groups. By very wealthy I don’t mean the ancient equivalent of “He drives a jaguar and lives in a gated community.” I mean the ancient equivalent of “He has chauffeurs and lives on ten acres with private security.” See the difference?

Workshops kept a stock of pre-cut stones for shoppers to choose from. These were what most people purchased. A nice, high-end figured gravestone is still one of these standard images. They’d have them for hoplites, young mothers, girls, teen boys, etc. etc. So also with dedicatory plaques (as ours for Hephaistion). These also had certain typical elements, like a horse (recalling Hero the Horseman, a common figure in Thracian and Macedonian art), or the pattela plate in the woman’s hand for an offering, etc. Buyers would visit a workshop to see what they could afford. It would then be personalized with an inscription. Only the wealthiest could afford to personalize an image.

Our dedicatory statue (SEG 40: 547) has an inscription that reads, “Diogenes, to the Hero Hephaistion.” That’s kind of short, suggesting the purchaser didn’t have oodles to spend. I find two other things interesting on this statue, other than the quality, which is good if not super-exceptional. First, I note that the spelling of his name is Attic, not Doric. I explain why this matters in my article “Becoming Macedonian.” The other interesting thing is the fact the dedication comes from a man…but it’s a woman on the statue making an offering. Maybe this is meant to be Diogenes’s wife or mother, but it’s one reason I think it a pre-made statue. If it were personalized, we’d see Diogenes, not Ye Generic Matron.

Another clue is the date: between 330-320, but it MUST be on the lower end as Hephaistion died late in 324 and wasn’t declared a hero until just before Alexander’s own death in mid-323. Assume travel time for news to spread and we’re looking at very late 323/early 322 or later (the dating of the stone could be off a bit). Nor was Hephaistion standing there as a model. Ergo, the purchaser chose a generic ephebe.++ And no, we have no idea who Diogenes was. Not the cynic philosopher (who died in 323 in Corinth, around the same date as Alexander, supposedly).

So, we’ve no statue we can securely call Hephaistion that’s even a portrait, never mind a likeness.

A few other statues are commonly tagged “Hephaistion,” one from Kyme (top) and another from Alexandria (bottom). Both are paired with an Alexander, but the faces of the two Hephaistions don’t look alike. One (Kyme) has a long face, big nose, very down-slanted brows, and small flat ears; the other (Alexandria) has a small nose, oval face, even eyes, and big flaring ears. If you look at the Alexander found with each, you can detect the workshop styles, and if the Alexanders do show identifying features associated with his portraiture, the Hephaistions do not. In fact, the Alexandrian statue is sometimes labeled “Demetrio,” as its identification is disputed.

Just pairing a statue with Alexander does not an Hephaistion make. 😉

The Alexander Sarcophagus from Sidon presents a different sort of problem. The middle male figure on horseback on the long-side battle scene, and the figure on horseback behind the lion on the other long side have both been identified as Hephaistion. But that identification depends on the sarcophagus belonging to Abdalonymus, who, according to some stories, got his position as King of Sidon from Hephaistion. The Alexanders on the sarcophagus are easy to spot, but off to the side. A Persian figure is centered, as is this other Greek male. If it IS Abdalonymus’s sarcophagus, Hephaistion would be a good guess. But Mardonius has also been reasonably proposed as the sarcophagus owner, in which case, that’s probably not Hephaistion.

Even if it is Hephaistion…we have the same problem. It’s a very generic ephebe face. (It would have been made years after Hephaistion was in Sidon, btw.)

A few other images out there have been proposed, but largely argued down. I still like the oversized bronze head from the Prado Museum. It’s more clearly somebody’s portrait, and it’s the one I had in mind when I went looking for a model for the (old, original) cover of Dancing with the Lion. But it’s been more securely tagged as Demetrios Poliorketes. One big problem is that, not only is it unlabeled, we don’t even know where it was found. A number of statues are purchased in the back allies of Istanbul or Thessaloniki or Rome or… (you get the idea).

I’ll address a final image that’s been more recently proposed: the non-Alexander figure (below, left) in the stag-hunt mosaic from the House of the Abduction of Helen, in Pella. It’s possibly from the same workshop as the lion-hunt mosaic from the House of Dionysos (second below). That lion-hunt mosaic is Alexander and Krateros, which identification is about 95% secure. Why? We’re told about a bronze group dedicated at Delphi that’s this very scene, completed by Krateros’s son for his father in honor of a specific event from Alexander’s campaigns. Copies of a famous work made in other mediums are remarkably common. In fact, I’d bet the “House of Dionysos” in Pella belonged to Krateros the younger, or that family anyway. It dates to exactly the right period.

Now, the stag-hunt mosaic is in a different house, but there are links in style between the two Alexanders (e.g., the petasos). The non-Alexander figures kinda resemble each other, but less clearly. (No, the axe in left stag-hunt guy's hand is not associated with Hephaistos. It is associated with a Thracian god, Zalmoxis.) Is stag-hunt guy a second Krateros? More likely it’s meant to be the owner of the house. Given their placement and size, those houses would have belonged to Very Important People. E.g., Hetairoi families. And everybody wanted a piece of the king—like taking a selfie with celebrities today.

Once more, just because Alexander appears with another person in a group, you cannot leap to the conclusion that person is Hephaistion.

So, that’s a fast survey of images tagged “Hephaistion,” and why I say none of them shows us what he may actually have looked like.

This took a while to assemble everything.

(For more information on some [not all] of these, see Andrew Stewart, Faces of Power: Alexander’s Image and Hellenistic Politics, U-Cal Press, Berkeley, 1993, 453-55.)

————

* The painting today called “The Wedding of Alexander and Roxane” by Sodoma in the Roman Villa Farnesina is a much, much later (1517 CE) re-imagining of what Aetion’s painting may have looked like. The ancient painting is long gone.

** For Alexander, his portraiture includes the anastole (cowlick), round chin, heavy brow, strong nose, “melting” gaze, and (often) tilted head and longer-than-average wavy hair like a lion’s mane. I can spot an Alexander anywhere. Ha. I was once in the Capitoline Museum, just idling along, when way down the aisle I spotted him, over 50 yards away. It was a heavy, Romanized style, but it was Alexander!

+ Both heads (his and Alexander) are forgeries anyway. Forgeries are BIG business in antiquities. Needless to say, museums don’t like to admit when they’ve bought a forgery, so you’ll next-to-never see one labeled as such. Gotta read the art history assessments to find out. If museums are convinced, they usually just quietly remove it.

++ Sometimes people ask me why one of these idealized ephebes couldn’t be what Hephaistion did look like, as he was supposed to be attractive? Well, it’s possible, but even very pretty people who we can tag as a portrait — I give you Antonoös — have distinguishing features. You can tell an Antinoös from a generic ephebe. Also, we have enough labeled portraits of Antinoös to create a portraiture tradition. We don’t have that with Hephaistion. So even if some generic statue currently labeled an ephebe were to be Hephaistion, we have zero way to know.

[floofeeeeee]

Erm erm KOTLC AU IDEA

Ok ok so hear me out. Lab au right? It also fits cuz ⚠️SPOILER⚠️ Sophie was experimented on as well as Keefe. Anyways I was thinking that Sophie and Keefe would probably be around 7-8 here just little baby’s Sophie’s been there a lot longer then Keefe like Keefe only been in the lab for a couple of weeks Sophie’s been there her whole life (I like to think that Sophie would’ve had freckles if she’d been allowed outside) ( Keefe has HUNDREDS OF THEM) (Sophies also like realllyy pale) I’d think the black swan aren’t really the good guy in the situation but also neither is the neverseen. Sophie and Keefe meet by chance, Sophie’s walking past his room (prison cell fr) (BTW Sophie can not talk she’s mute but she communicates through telepathy :3) so her and Keefe just sort of talk for a bit. Keefe gets pretty excited about talking to someone his age. They talk for only a few minutes before Sophies dragged away. Keefe thinks his mom is coming to pick him up soon…erm (his mom did all that freaky stuff like in the books but very not safe and made him sick witch is why he’s in the lab) his mom and the scientist doctors? Idk fight a lot because she thinks he’ll be something way better then the moonlark (Sophie’s called that they usually go by the numbers that are tattoo on them but almost everyone calls her the moonlark) they also basically kidnapped Keefe? Kinda they wont let him go back with his mom basically.

Other characters I had in mind to be there are tam and linh :3 but I’ll end here and talk about them in the next post. (I’m also thinking of making art for this au but I have two things to finish first)

[comfortabletogether]

hibiki,kanade,yoruko,emma and teruya (dra or sdra2 ver,idm) with a younger sibling reader (only by 1-2yrs) headcanons? tysm,if u do this,btw!!!

thank you for requesting Anon!! Sorry it took me so long to write this lol. I avoided this for a while because I was scared I wouldn’t understand how to write siblings but it turned out pretty good. There was almost no spoilers in this, I just can’t help myself.

There is a line in the Teruya section that references a fic that I wrote and posted on AO3. So that’s what that is about lol.

WARNING: IMPLIED SPOILERS

~ Mod Haruhiko ✈️

Emma Magorobi

🎬 You were Emma’s adopted sibling (or technically she was the one adopted) and she adored you. You bought her a book full of puns when she first was adopted into your family and from then on, she’d try and surprise you every morning with a new pun.

🎬 You’d also most likely be a child star, which would cause Emma to be very protective of you. Cashing directors to not be as inclined to cast the two of you in the same projects.

🎬 Emma is glad to be in your family but she hates it so much when you take her clothes or jewelry or anything without her permission.

🎬 The two of you frequently get into petty arguements that have no reason to exist (like if sentient which fruit would win in a fight.)

🎬 Overall, Emma is a kind and sweet older sister to have. But the two of you will be having nonsensical issues every ten minutes.

Yoruko Kabuya

🍷 Depending on how much younger you are, she’ll treat you differently. If you are a lot younger than her, she’ll be protective of you and would actually treat you like a sibling, but if you were only a little bit younger, than you are her best friend. No expectations.

🍷 Getting home from work or school, she’ll immediately start talking to you about her peers or clients. Gossip is always the best with her.

🍷 Helping her dye/re-dye her hair is a lot of fun. And by helping Yoruko forces you to do it in return that she’ll do your chorus for the next two weeks. The two of you are always ruining the bathroom to have to be cleaned the next morning.

🍷 Yoruko will try to stay out of having any arguments with you but if you are just trying to pick one with her, she will get annoyed and will get into an argument.

🍷 Overall, Yoruko is a pretty cool big sister, there is a lot of gossip. And she will defend you always if you are getting bullied. 

Otonokoji Twins

🎼 Hibiki will love you and despite making you always call her ‘big sis’ to have a level of importance over you. She will not insult you like she insults Kanade.

🎼 Kanade will also love you and view you as family but she would have some sort of resentment towards you if you were closer to Hibiki than she was. 

🎼 They would definitely make you play piano or drums so that you could be apart of Melody Rythme. But you would not be a singer, that is Hibiki and only Hibiki’s job.

🎼 The twins are always on time with one another and unfortunately since you aren’t triplets, you don’t have their shared ability. This will lead to surprisingly Kanade to get mad at you when you are ahead or behind them.

🎼 If you’d ever try and tell Hibiki to calm down with insulting Kanade, she would definitely get pissed with you as her harassment was just a joke and you didn’t get what it’s like to have a twin.

🎼 If these girls are you older sisters, bless your heart. It’ll be an extremely traumatic ride. And there will be a ton of yelling, arguments and somewhat childish games.

Teruya Otori 

💴 Teruya will pretend like he is an extremely responsible older brother. In front of your dad, he’ll always act really mature. But the second you two are out of adults you know’s sights, it gets fun.

💴 If you ever need help in math. Come to him, he might not be extremely talented in language arts but he excels in math. Due to him being a merchant and all.

💴 Teruya loves restocking the selves at the Otori mart with you, the two of you talking about random things or weird experiences with your friends. He has a weird one of him and a few friends getting kicked out of a bar at three in the afternoon.

💴 He enjoys just getting to be silly with you. Getting to do weird yet strangely fun stuff, like going out to ding dong ditch his friends house. 

💴 Overall, Teruya is a goofy older brother who will take you out to do anything. And he likes to bring his friends over so you’ll get to meet them. And you’ll probably hit it off with one of his friend’s younger brother, Ryutaro.

[tyrantisterror]

Early Wizard School Mysteries Concept Art Pt. 2: 2020 & 2021

Wizard School Mysteries Book 3: Wicked Witchcraft has been available for purchase in paperback and kindle editions for about a week now, and to do my due diligence as this series' author, editor, and marketing executive, I've gotta make a post about it to annoy you all with so that maybe more people read it and build up a bigger audience for the next one.

So! To accomplish that in a way I find palatable, I've dug up some very old concept art for the series, and am going to parade it out for your enjoyment! Come, look upon my old art and despair be inspired to buy my books!

This is part 2 because tumblr wouldn't let me upload more than 30 pictures in a post btw.

Oh damn, there's our James! He's lost a lot of his Wizardmon flair in favor of patches and a bit more of a bookish look, and his hat is a manageable size in that it actually fits his head now. Even his hairstyle is close to what it would be.

Ivan's getting closer too, with the patchwork arms and furry shoulders on his vest to give him that "peasant wizard from the snowy North" vibe, and a shaggy mop of hair to go with it! His wand's a bit gnarlier looking, like it's a tree branch that was whittled down rather than a more refined dowel, which is a nice character touch.

Gretchen's gotten plumper and, after some experimentation, has curly locks, so yay she's finally definitely not white! She's gaining her more witchy look, too, along with the shadowrot that became so important to her character in the series as it currently exists.

Margot's design is still experimenting, but she's beginning to get more recognizable with each one. The skull helm is introduced, and with it comes a move to a more goth-punk look, with a skull-shaped pauldron and spikes on her gauntlet. And she's getting more muscular, which is good for a The Muscle archetype she represents. Oh, and she gets an aquiline nose! That's not important for archetype reasons, I just think it's me living my truth. Needs to be bigger, though.

huh... somehow less recognizable as Rodrigo than the previous sketches. I kinda like the rockstar vibe it has, though, even if it doesn't quite fit Rodrigo.

Serena's finally got her magical girl swag! I mean, not quite enough, she's still weighted down a bit too much and doesn't have nearly enough ribbons, but she's getting there! Progress is progress!

Charlotte's limbs are more proportionate now, they feel like they actually belong on her frame. Still not quite right, but much better.

We don't have a Polybeus for this year, but we do have some other fun sketches!

We've got an early Fafgander design, as well as six of our youths in their school uniforms! Margot's supernatural height is cemented here, and uniform!Charlotte is looking even more like herself.

Onto 2021!

All of our youths are finally sporting their canon designs, though slight tweaks would be made here and there to facial features and the like.

[austinramsaygames]

Hey Austin,

Huge fan of Beam Saber. I was wondering what your own personal favorite playbook is that you’ve made for it?

A lot of the core playbooks are very inspired from core BITD, but have delightful twists on them - like the empath for instance.

With the Growing Conflict expansion, I can tell you really went wild with some of these playbooks. All of them bringing really cool ideas to the table (I particularly love the rookie, reminds me of the Mundane from monster of the week)

(This is Colin from ATYK btw, can’t send from the side blog)

You're absolutely right about a number of the playbooks in the core rulebook being twists on the Blades playbooks, however, Ace, Bureaucrat, Empath, and Mechanized Cavalry are wholly original. They MIGHT have a couple abilities that previously existed in Blades playbooks and have been modified to fit the game.

As for my favourite playbook, I'm a creature of recency bias when it comes to that. Whichever playbook I've worked on most recently is the one I'm most excited about, which is currently The Recluse (hopefully releasing this month or next, just waiting on the cover art). I also always love to see the different ways that players use any playbook.

While I've GMed a lot of Beam Saber, I've played very little as a pilot (only two sessions in separate one shots) so I don't have much hands on experience to form an opinion.

If that answer is too much of a cop out my three favourite pilot playbooks from the core book are Ace, Bureaucrat, and Empath because they are wholly made by me. My three favourites from Growing Conflict are Transformed, Forewarned, and Tuner.

You're correct that I went wild with Growing Conflict. A lot of the abilities and ideas in it are from rejected notes that I had while making the core book. I never delete any notes, they all go into a rejected notes section for possible recycling.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/13/2023

very games-centric week

listening

this opening bit samples bowie's life on mars and sounds like a piano cover of a half-remembered but still beloved childhood anime. like the kind you had a set of two VHS clamshells for but only episodes 4-6 and 10-12. it goes on the "lofi beats to data and entry to" playlist. spotify

-

reading

fallow week

-

watching

the folks at waypoint games, formerly vice's leftist games vertical, BOUGHT THE BRAND FROM VICE and are rebranding as remap. i wish them all the fuckin best and i hope they succeed but i feel like we have maybe six months of this before one of them goes literally bankrupt from a doctor's visit bc healthcare is such a fuckin nightmare in this country. im simply not excited for starfield. i am not interested in corporate nasa

anyway i enjoyed their commentary, excited for compulsion games' southern gothic action/adventure spellcaster South of Midnight

neutrally optimistic about obsidian's Avowed, bc i do love obsidian but i do not love sword and sorcery rpgs

there's airships in microsoft flight simulator so i may genuinely buy one month of gamepass to try that out

capcom's path of the goddess looks fucking gorgeous but i have never played more than half an hour of a capcom game and i expect i never will. is this topdown? is this isometric? what the fuck is the gameplay mode??? who could FUCKING say

also there's a new jersey fallout 76 expansion coming at some point. in real life i hate atlantic city and i don't really how know this will look or play differently from point lookout. i don't know if i want to play a much-reviled cash cow mmorpg just to get postapoc jersey lore. if this leads up to 5 being set in nyc im going to be real pissed off. go somewhere DIFFERENT. there are DIFFERENT PLACES on the east coast!!! blease

-

playing

viddy game can consistently turn my brain off enough that i forget im moving cross country in two weeks and can forcibly relax my body for twenty mintues at a time between packing boxes. so there's been a lot of pomodoro-ing, or my version which is: pack until i get so anxious i physically cannot pack anymore, go have a snack, go play twenty minutes of a video game, and then go pack until i am on the verge of a panic attack again. this is not healthy but all my books are packed. all of these were free on epic at some point btw which is why i own them

the first time i played Airborne Kingdom, i lost track of time and beat it in one sitting in eight hours. the second time i played Airship Kingdom, i replicated that exact experience. i have allied with all the kingdoms and have like two hundred souls on board but am not QUITE selfsufficient enough to take on the northern/artic sea DLC. stay tuned. soundtrack in this thing is great.

bounced VERY hard off Close to the Sun, a bioshock-lite i put about four hours/three levels into. a huge gilded age cruise ship where the science has Gone Wrong would normally be catnip to me, but the game did brutally kill the player character's sister in front of me in an unskippable cutscene so we're done with that game now THANK YOU. it is very slow, which i do like in a game that gives you this much stuff to look at, but there is no gamma control. this game is so fucking dark. i played it in a dark room with no lights and it was still too dark.

pinged off the typing exploration game Epistory despite its charming art, bc fast and accurate typing is something covid has taken from me.

rediscovered Carcassone (online) which is great bc i love Carcassone and own a physical copy of the board game but no one else in my life loves it. tile-building countryside-building game, seconds to learn, etc. thank you board game review even though there are no meeple in their natural habitat (the board) in this picture

-

making

it's gonna be putting things into boxes for the forseeable future (the next week) and then living out of them for a while (the next two weeks after that)

[applescabs]

I was tagged by my buddy @phoenixfangs so lets goooo

Are you named after anyone? I've heard this story a buncha times so I'm pretty sure my mom got my birth name from a singer. She heard it on tv and liked it a lot, back then it wasn't a very common name in my country. My names as of now are 50/50, Tom didn't come from anyone but Teddie was 100% something I picked up from Teddie p4, hahah.

When was the last time you cried? Last Sunday when I rewatched ep 11 of Bucchigiri. especially during the part where Zabu got the absolute shit beaten out of him. Finn came home right after that and doesn't understand that one of the big points of media is to reach you emotionally, so he thought it was weird that I was crying.

Do you have kids? Nah, but I'd like to some day, if fate allows it.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Not nearly as much as I used to, because most of my friends are autistic and don't get it most of the time, so I just end up upsetting them whenever I do use it. Being sincere is much more fun anyways.

What sports do you play? None, but I would love to swim or ice skate (or, hell, do some skiing). Neither are really possible for me atm, unfortunately (do you have any idea how expensive skiing is btw. it's crazy). When I was a kid I did gymnastics and streetdance, I also played tennis briefly as a teen, but had to quit due to a lack of people in my age group playing at that club.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? I usually take note of how someone dresses and does their hair. Ever notice how dull most people's clothes are? I like seeing styles that stand out.

What’s your eye colour? Brown, it's not a particularly dark shade, but I wouldn't call it hazel (my dad has hazel eyes though).

Scary movies or happy endings? This ones a little... vague? But I guess if I had to choose... I wouldn't. I don't care about genre or what type of emotional impact it has, as long as it's coherent and entertaining in its own right. (That doesn't mean I don't care about quality btw. I literally just. watch anything and judge it for what it is.)

Any special talents? I'm a boss at packing in groceries quickly and efficiently. Not a talent that everyone possesses, I've learned (sorry Minke <3).

Where were you born? Netherlands babeyyy ✌ North-Holland to be a bit more precise. I lived next to a dyke (not that kind) so I got the real under-sea-level experience. I still live around the area but not in my hometown anymore.

What are your hobbies? Drawing, (writing?), translation and the nuances that come with it, watching movies, tv shows, animes, cartoons, playing video games, reading books, comics and manga. (and then talking about cinematography, parallels, themes, symbolism and the likes) I also collect soda cans (+ the occasional glass bottle), candy packaging, and anime figurines + other merch.

Do you have any pets? My little baby Jody (dog) who I've had since I was 7 years old! She's about to have her sweet 16 on the 23rd (that's in 2 weeks!) she's getting blind and deaf as hell but she's still lively and sweet as ever <3 And my sweet Tiger of course, who's of undetermined age (around 8/9 the vet said) and currently living with my good friend Minke and their 2 other cats (he does not like them) and dog (he is ok with her). He's not with me rn because my mom's bf is allergic, unfortunately.

How tall are you? 1 meter 59. that single centimeter haunts me. I would've also preferred an additional 10 as well.

Favourite subject in school? Art history used to my favourite in high school, and when I was in film school for a brief period I loved film history. I just love anything pertaining to the arts and it's history that involves analysing and comparing it to other time periods, really.

Dream job? I wanna be someone's househusband and make a buncha weird art on the side. Not kidding btw. But if I had to choose a more conventional dream job... it had to be something in the creative or design industry, otherwise I'll probably die of unhappiness.

tageroonie @kuwupikaa @sunflowermews @xrd @isleofair @spunktrumpetsasara and uhhh other mutuals who feel inclined to do this 👉👈

[runninguplenorahills]

Lenora you’re back!!!!!💕💞💕💞

How have you been?

Heyyyy✨🌞

I’ve been doing pretty great honestly. I got through my finals and I actually did quite well :)). I didn’t take the biology exam though because holy fuck I can’t even do simple math and we were supposed to do crazy equations, no calculators allowed💀. So yeah, didn’t study at all and woke up in a cold sweat like three days before the exam and quickly set myself on inactive because I would’ve definitely fucking flunked it. But English went great, got one of the best grades out of the entire course for my presentation I was sweating buckets over beforehand, linguistics went well as well and the rest was just pass or fail and fortunately I passed but I’m still waiting on a feedback for my pedagogy portfolio. Speaking of waiting, I spent weeks in February working on my art portfolio and applied for art school and I’m waiting for a response to that, too.

I also finally read “The song of Achilles” but it sadly didn’t earn its place next to my favorites, like, it was actually only three stars for me if I’m really honest. Currently I’m reading “Persuasion” (I’m about half way through) and that books actually pretty great but the first like 80 pages are just like, set up lmao. But after that it quickly gets better!!! I haven’t continued reading in a couple of days though which I should absolutely do soon because the new semester starts in two weeks and then idk how much time I’ll have to read. I’m actually taking British and American literature classes in the new semester which I’m pretty excited about!!!!

Oh boy, I also finally watched s5 of Miraculous and the alternate universe Paris special and the movie and bro, s5 was an absolute dumpster fire…. Actually fucking insane. But the Paris special was kinda entertaining lol, and I can’t lie…. the movie was pretty good. Like… it was honestly great hahahah. I also watched Cars btw! I have watched the first part before but never the rest and then my sister wanted to watch Cars so we did and yeah, Cars is amazing ofc. I also finally watched But I’m a Cheerleader which was all over the okays but it was funny and I loved the ending. I’m trying to remember what else I watched but I don’t remember anything else… hmmm… Oh!! Omg, I watched Christopher Robin and I didn’t not except that movie to be as good as it was. I was in genuine tears over fucking everything and yeah, very enjoyable. I also watched The Sixth Sense which was good, did not see the plot twist coming though, Like, spoiler! I literally remember thinking “oh.. so he survived I guess” when it says “next fall” like a fucking idiot 😭. I don’t think I watched any other movies though.

Wait, I also read the entirety of Jackson’s diary on webtoon and it was a fucking roller coaster.

Other than that I’ve been hanging a lot with my friends, especially those who moved to another city for university. There’s this café we always and in the past two weeks we’ve gone three times and you can borough games to play and we usually play scrabble which is always sm fun!

Oh and holy shit, I turned fucking 20!?!?! Absolutely batshit insane, I cannot believe it.

Also, I just kinda left tumblr very like, impulsively because I had finals coming up and thought it’d be distracting, but also, tumblr tends to suck the life out of me sometimes so I thought taking a break would be worth it either way. After finals where over I then had to work on my art portfolio and I have a huge procrastination problem so I stayed off tumblr because I knew it would make it worse and so I just left and didn’t reply to anyone, which, I’m sorry, I missed you and the other mutuals so much but I also don’t think that many people even noticed that I took a break in the first place. Anyway,I’ll probably dip when Uni starts again as well but I thought it’d be nice to catch up with y’all before that happens.

How have you been doing :))💓💗💓💗💓

[introdemodev]

Howdy!

Anyways...to celebrate the demo turning one year old, I wanted to celebrate by posting more behind-the-scene works and such! :-) The plan is to post every day, but I might space some posts out by a day or two - I don’t want to seem like I’m spamming. Either way, I’m going to be active for the next two weeks.

And if you guys have anything you want to see, just let me know and I’ll add it to the queue.

With that out the way, let’s start off with talking about........her. The text box.

The first thing I tested for Introdemo was sprites, the next thing was the textbox and font size. The textbox was something I wanted to figure out right away. If I had to make changes to it later down the line, that meant I might have to possibly rewrite and reformat lines of dialogue. If you notice, the textbox almost always contains 1-2 lines of dialogue.

My original idea for the text box was to have it be literal speech bubbles. Introdemo is a prequel to an old webcomic of mine so I wanted Introdemo to read like a ‘comic’ too (btw don’t look at fridge and bear for any clues!!! it’s getting a soft reboot later down the line!! it’s technically canon but also not canon...it exists in canon limbo).

I also looked at The World Ends With You for inspiration as well.

However, I didn’t understand/know how to code something like that at the time, so I scrapped the idea. This idea still lives on in the game though. Introdemo feels like a bunch of different things, and that’s cool. Aaaaaah look out!! A style shift is approaching!!!!

So, I started to think of other games that I liked that might’ve used as a speech bubble as a textbox or had a speech bubble-like textbox, if that makes any sense. One of the first games that came to mind was Animal Crossing. I’m a fan of that Franchise™ and I’ve been playing it ever since the Gamecube version (best version btw). I’m going to be completely honest, I was heavily inspired by it, especially the speech bubble used in New Horizon, and a bit of New Leaf (NL, because of its use of patterns and the lower opacity).

But mainly, the inspo was New Horizons. I like how sleek it is and it’s nice on the eyes. It’s very simple. Best part is, it doesn’t take too much of the screen either - this was also important because Introdemo has *a lot* of art in it. I didn’t want to cover up the artwork.

So, what I’m saying is, I ripped off the textbox I was heavily inspired by it!

There is another variation of the textbox used in the game, and that is the thought box. It’s a rectangle, an uneven one. Since the game takes place primarily in Fennel’s POV, it’s mainly used by him to narrate, think, vent, and give commentary.

The inspiration for this was manga. In manga, squares/rectangles are sometimes used for inner monologue and narration (well, they're used in western comics too, but you get my point....I was thinking about manga when I made this decision).

After figuring out how I wanted the textbox to look, it was very easy to figure out how I wanted the game’s GUI to look overall. I like to think everything works together aesthetically.

The game has a pulpy-inspired comic look ...

and the menus have a pulpy-inspired magazine/tabloid look.

The menus aren’t exactly set in stone, unlike the textbox, so I do have plans to touch it up on future. It’s fine, but it’s not ‘there’ yet, in my opinion. The accessibility and about menus definitely needs more work and care put into it.

And that’s it for now! There’s not much to say about the GUI at the moment but I’ll go over my inspirations for it at another time. I’ll also go more in-depth about it in the digital art book, which will be available for purchase when the full game comes out (full game will be available for free, ofc :-) )

Thanks for reading!!

[quagarl]

I would like this to be a formal introduction to me, as proof i don't just repost femboy memes all day. My name is Quincy, and I'm 21, Enby, I love baking, and I call myself a writer. I'm not a published writer, and that is a fact that I am incredibly proud of. That's not to say that being a publish author isn't something to flaunt at the Thanksgiving dinner when your parents are wondering what you did with your life and where they went wrong, and uncle Marco is wondering out loud why you're not a conservative like him (and let's be real if your smart you're not going to answer him because that's its own entire can of clams).

I am proud of not having authored a book because *oh my dear* I have wanted to write a book since I was in fourth grade. I can guarantee that I was *awful* in fourth grade.

I was one of those kids who *got* english. I read at a 12th grade reading level at like 10. I understood most of Washingtons inaugural speech by 7th grade.

What I didn't know was what theme was, or what subtext meant, and how important it was to make your dialogue an argument or how to write a metaphor. Setting and pacing and (unfortunately) punctuation were all a little bit out of my scope, and I am still learning the full range of use that they can have.

Does this mean I don't want to be an author because I'm afraid I might know how to write a story better later in life? *A little I guess yeah* but also no! That doesn't stop me from writing like it's going to publish, but the reason I know I can write a publishable book is one very simple lesson I learned in 10th grade thanks to my English teacher. Yaddaw I know you're fruity as hell and you're probably here, if by some miracle you see this, thank you for the five minute free writes. (A fantastic writing exercise that teaches flexibility and creativity btw)

Dont write a book, write a story. Don't publish anything, but write a novel.

It's simple. If you write *solely* to publish the next GoT or acotar or whatever, you're going to write something super forgettable, and you're going to regret it later in life when you finally do publish your art. If you write solely to tell a story, you're going to miss out on super important aspects of the concept of a full story. You need to have balance.

###this is where my advice comes in###

Write three full complete stories when you write one.

Write the surface stuff. Bad guy rides dragon, rides into our heroes village, she finds a dragon and fights the bad guy at the end, and she wins.

Write something genuine -- that really hits home in the uncomfortable parts. I'll go first(hint: this is the most important part): I hate a lot of myself. I hate my torso, I hate my hair, and I view my procrastination as my greatess weakness. I cannot think when I write solely about my work. It drives me to become upset and ultimately abandon my drive to write a story I love.

Then, combine the two. I like the initial idea of a dragon and a village, but let's play with that villain. A hero rides into town one day, ready to save it from a dragon attack. Don't ask why he knows ones coming, because I don't have an answer yet. On his way into town he sees the common signs for a Dragons hunting grounds: dead sheep in their pastures, ruined trees, the outcasts of town have an unusual fear of fire and speak of monolithic beasts plaguing their dreams. Great gouges, twenty years old and scarred in the earth, clue our hero into the idea that these lands have long been the hunting grounds for his wyrm. There is no dragon to save the village from, however, as he comes to realize days after staying in town. The villagers tell him the dragon is real, the evidence supports its existence, yet it is not here and will not present itself to him. Angry that he cannot fulfill his purpose, he leaves and abandons his quest, and commits the village to it's fate. Later that week, the dragon comes, burns the village to the ground. The hero hears of this and returns to the village. The hero returns and, upon finding the ashen remains, swears to himself that he will hunt this beast, and that it must cost him his life. He takes from the village a piece of timber that survived, and the bucket from the well. Our first few chapters are done, and the stage is set for the rest of the story.

There's a bunch here for us to play with, and a bunch of subtext we can include. For me, this could represent procrastination, how our hero leaves and condemns the village to doom despite it's evidence, only seeing the immediate before them. It could represent something more sinister, where the hero wants to have his story as one to be remembered -- the man who avenged the tragedy of [village]. The bucket can represent a number of things, like a metaphor for him dousing the flames with the water of the village. It could be the idea of nourishment, or a vessel for the souls of those lost in the calamity. I've combined our heroine and our villain to make a neutral character, who both is directly responsible for the death of the village and it's revenge, but that raises questions too, like are they responsible at all, and will the death of the dragon absolve them of their crime? This my dears, is nuance, which forms the spine of any story more mature than defining good and evil, and our storys subtext, for me, is the question not only of blame, of responsibility and justice, but also of personal flaws like procrastination, and of the fear of the end of ones story.

Anyways, eat your vegetables, don't feel bad about not being published at 20 or 30 or 40 or 50, and make sure to write your Great Metaphor. Otherwise, it's like to be something you have not shown justice to.

[llyfrenfys]

I went to school in the UK in the 00s-10s and yeah we had those as well. See, I knew the parameters for what makes a good essay. I actually cared about producing good work, so I got quite good at it. But every now and again we would have a non-optional alternative to essays which would throw me for a loop. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed them - but there was always the anxiety that because it was assessed, it was possible to do my own creativity wrong.

We often got assigned tasks to make posters or comics about whatever we'd been studying. I did actually enjoy these tasks and most of the time I was able to get good grades whenever we had assessments like this (to be fair, they didn't happen frequently). But one time I was off ill and had to visit the children's hospital. When I came back I'd missed a week of RE lessons. We'd been covering Buddhism and I was actually really enjoying the class. We had 2 RE teachers. One, a really cool butch woman who was brilliant. The other a very dour and mean Evangelical lady who genuinely hated me for seemingly no reason. Unluckily for me, the week I came back we had the second lady teaching us. While I'd been gone we'd been assigned a homework to create a comic strip depicting the life of Siddhartha Gautauma (Buddha). Now, in weeks previously I'd done well in this class. For example, we also had homework to create a nice front page for our RE books for each religion we studied - and I did a really detailed drawing of the Wheel of Dharma and the Jewels of the Lotus. This homework (along with an essay on the Wheel and Jewels) was marked by the first teacher and I got high marks for it.

Now, coming back from children's hospital after having some tests run on me I was faced with the homework to make a comic. Which I was behind on because, you know, I was in hospital. If I'd been asked to write an essay on Buddha's life I would have found that much easier and I'd have been able to hand something in faster than drawing a multi-page comic of Siddhartha's life. I'm decent at drawing animals but I used to suck at drawing humans. So I did my best and handed it in. Got it back with a low grade and see me written in red across the top corner of the last page. So I drew it again the next week. Same result. Bearing in mind I now had the next homework to do on top of this one. Ad infinitum until I barely passed and she finally got off my back about it. But honestly? It was so unnecessary of her. I'd have preferred it if the comic was optional and I could have written an essay instead. I knew my stuff, I just didn't care to draw humans and maybe out of frustration I phoned it in a little bit. But come on - it's RE class not Art (which I enjoyed btw I just hated drawing humans).

Anyway point being that not having other options in make a poster etc. assessments just gives free reign for subjective judgement from teachers. About a year later in Chemisty we did about the Periodic Table and we had a homework to design a front page in our Chemistry notebooks about the topic. So I made a mini periodic table and wrote Dmitri Mendeleev's name in Russian, which I got very good marks for. I think my RE teacher just hated me.

Other educational praxis things from the 90s

Was anyone else forced, frequently, to write a poem/song/rap or do a skit or make a poster or something other than 'write an essay/answer questions' in elementary and middle school?

Because I was, and fucking hated it.

I am all for that kind of thing being an Option for kids who learn that way. But please for the love of fuck let me just write the essay.

You taught me nothing and I learned nothing in this class, let me essay to you about the subject because I learned all this shit 3-5 years ago on my own from library books, science museum visits, living history museums, aquariums, etc.

[iloveschiaparelli]

About Me Post

I haven't done one of these so it's probably time

Name: Just my @ will suffice

Schiaparelli is in reference to the crater, not the fashion website(?)

Age: 21

Autism - Self Dx (pursuing diagnosis)

I'm an aspiring writer/director who currently lives with two wonderful roommates, one of whom has a cat named Rookie, whom you will see often in my garden posts. I like to garden, play D&D/Pathfinder (my first pathfinder campaign is starting next week!), organize, do crafts like painting or embroidering, photography, and I draw digitally using Clip Studio Paint and a Huion tablet.

Sometimes I write, my writing blog is @ilike2eatdirt (which is not true btw). I also enjoy playing video games, reading books/webtoons/manga, and watching shows/movies. My main work in filmmaking is limited to wardrobe/production design. I have 5 short film credits, 1 music video credit, and 3 more shoots coming up in the fall. All of my film stuff so far has been unpaid student-level work.

My Blog is About: Whatever I want!!!! This is a blog by me, for me, and the People are invited if they choose to attend. To date the most consistent topics I've posted about are my Potted Plant Empire & various autism revelations. I reblog a lot... usually in short bursts though! I will sometimes post artwork.

Favorite Topics (Includes special interests): Astronomy, film, art, storytelling, geology (SHINY ROCKS), ancient persia, autism, Wes Ball(his work), sharks, and more

Fandoms you might see me posting about: Maximum Ride, Planet of the Apes (2011- ), The Maze Runner (movies), The Ascendance Series, Lost (I am only up to s3 no spoilers please!), Heroic Legend of Arslan, Fullmetal Alchemist, Yona of the Dawn/Akatsuki no Yona, various webtoons/anime on a highly infrequent basis, etc.

Video Games I like to play/have played/started playing:

Minecraft, Nier: Automata. I also enjoy(ed) playing Rain World (in-progress), Hollow Knight (finished 1 ending and was done), Yes, Your Grace (also 1 ending and done), Andromeda Six (this is a really really good indie Visual Novel that is currently in development and has been regularly releasing chapters since 2020), Skate 3 (when I feel like pulling out the xbox 360), Skyrim (started), Stardew Valley (I GIVE UP. I AM IN SUMMER AND STILL HAVE NO MONEY.)

Tags to Note on my Blog:

#gardenblr is typically what I start every potted plant empire post with.

#actually autistic is usually what I start autism-related posts with (moments i should have realized im autistic, relatable autism things, 2am revelations, autism-specific rants, etc.)

#vent/#rant/#personal post will likely be swapped between depending on whichever fits best for what I'm posting, but generally anything I'm concerned about being personal that strangers on the internet don't want to see, will have one of those 3 tags.

#artwork is ummm artwork

Fandom posts will get fandom tags so if you get too much of a particular fandom that you don't like/dont care about, feel free to filter that out or just shoot me a message and I'll add a tag just for you <3

[cardansriddle]

Can you do a professor riddle smut 😁??

Great work on your stories btw I love them ❤️❤️

Discipline- Tom Riddle

Summary: When you miss Professor Riddle’s class, he seeks you out and demands and explanation. Irritated at his nerve, you say things that anger him, therefore he decides to teach you some discipline. 

A/N: I got a few Professor Riddle requests so I decided to combine them. Requests are open for Tom Riddle.

Warnings: Smut, professor x reader.

-

Professor Riddle was like the forbidden apple that everyone would die to have a small taste of.

The student population of Hogwarts had gone into a frenzy when it was announced that Tom Riddle would take the position as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. The girls and boys alike whispered amongst each other once they caught a glimpse of the young man that looked like he was created by the Greek Gods. He was simply put, ethereal.

As the new transfer, you had been confused when it was time to head to the DADA class, overhearing the excitement of the students at the thought of seeing their professor. With furrowed brows, you had approached one of your new acquaintances, quietly asking him what the fuss was all about.

“Professor Riddle is very attractive. The whole female population of Hogwarts is in love with the man.” He had replied with a displeased expression, watching his girlfriend walking ahead of him fawn at the thought of their teacher.

You understood the appeal of an older man, sure, yet you had not thought he would be that much of a sight when you had been walking towards his class. However, once you stood in the room and your eyes met the dark ones of the man that you assumed was your professor, you had mentally agreed with the thoughts of your fellow peers.

He was beautiful.

Yet you acted as if you were not fazed, taking a seat in the middle row and avoiding further eye contact with the man, who was not done staring at you. You subtly felt someone probing at your mind, and alarm bells started ringing in your head before you shut down your mental barriers, head raising to look directly at your professor, who had his brows furrowed in confusion. Shooting a glare at him for attempting to glance into your mind, you lowered your head to your book once again, wondering if it was even allowed for a teacher to use Legimilens on a student.

Thankfully, he had not made you introduce yourself, proceeding with the lesson, as usual, pretending that nothing had happened and it had continued for weeks.

That was until you missed one of his classes, falling ill after a particularly cold day spent in Hogsmead and you were forced to stay in your bed for the whole day.

The next day when you were eating your breakfast, you suddenly became aware of the unusual silence that hung upon the table, the chatter fading away as everyone stared at something behind you. Naturally, you turned around and were surprised to see Professor Riddle, his usual stern expression now irritated, looking at you with what you assumed was disapproval.

“You missed a class yesterday.” He spoke, his low voice sending a chill down your spine. How could someone’s voice be that alluring? You wondered silently, before coming back to the present and frowning at him.

“Yes, I am aware.” You replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone. You distinctly felt one of your peers elbow you in the ribs yet you shot her a dirty look and she turned back to her meal.

“Mind your attitude.” He warned, eyes narrowing as his eyes roamed over your form. “Come with me.” He commanded, not waiting for a reply before he turned on his heel and walked away from your table, leaving you to huff before rushing after him.

“Where are we going, sir?” You asked, slightly unnerved now that you were alone with him. He halted suddenly, turning towards you, and you had no time to react before you crashed into his front, hands laying atop his chest in order to soften the collision. His hands grabbed your arms in an instant as if to prevent you from falling, and you immediately pulled away, cheeks flaming hot as you apologised hastily.

His hand suddenly found the space under your chin, lifting it up forcefully, making you meet his obsidian eyes, staring down at you with an expression you could not decipher.

“Shut up and get inside.” He hissed.

Swallowing nervously, you complied with his demand, moving into the dimly lit office. He followed after you and leaned against the table while his eyes travelled over you.

“Why are we here, sir?” You asked, crossing your arms around your chest and not missing the way his eyes dropped to your chest at the action.

“You missed a class, and I do not take kindly to my students skipping my lectures.”

“Well, for your information, I was ill. I missed all of my classes yesterday.” You scoffed, irritated at the way he was behaving as if you owed him anything.

He cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Have you never been taught discipline before? Or do I have to teach you that too?”

You clenched your jaw in anger, shocked at his nerve to say such things, and before you could stop yourself, you retaliated. “Who are you to teach me discipline? My father?” You spat, glaring at him heatedly.

“Keep that attitude and I will spank you like I am.”

You took a step back in bewilderment at his crude words, eyes widening. You spluttered, not knowing how to reply to that, and before you knew it, he pushed away from the table and in three long strides, he was standing in front of you, getting way too close for it to be appropriate.

“What-” You cleared your throat. “What are you doing, sir?”

He leaned down, causing his dark curls to fall over his chiselled face and you subconsciously took a step back until you were pressed against a wall. He smirked and raised his hands to rest on the wall next to your head, effectively trapping you there.

He lowered his face until his lips touched your throat, and a whimper escaped your lips when his teeth grazed over the sensitive area. He nipped and sucked at the skin for a few moments before raising his head to look at the hickey he had given you with a smirk.

Possessive little shit. You thought to yourself.

“I am going to fuck that attitude out of you. That is what I am doing.” He replied to the question you forgot you even asked, and then you felt his lips press against yours forcefully. Your body did not hesitate before responding to his kiss, and the sensible part of your brain screamed at you furiously for allowing this to happen.

You locked your arms around his neck, your hands tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to release a groan in pleasure. Smirking against his lips, you tugged harder, and he pulled away from you breathlessly. “You will pay for that, darling.” He promised, and then connected your lips once more.

One of his hands dropped to the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it up before grabbing the inner part of your thigh. You gasped at the unexpected action, and he used this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, while his hand massaged your inner thigh, almost in a teasing way.

You whined, wanting more, and this time he pulled away to look at you with darkened eyes. “Beg for it.”

Your breath hitched. “No.”

“I said to beg for it.” His hand itched higher, grazing the hem of your underwear.

“Please.” The plea left your mouth instantly, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so weak and giving in to him.

“Good girl.” His swollen lips curled into a smirk before his fingers finally touched you. You moaned at the sensation of his feeling against you, arching your back to feel more, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure.

“The sounds you make...they drive me insane.” He breathed, watching you intensely, captivated by your expression of pleasure. “You have been driving me insane since that day you first walked into my class in that little skirt of yours.” He confessed, yet you were too preoccupied with the feeling of his fingers rubbing against you to pay much attention.

Suddenly, his fingers left you, and you whined in displeasure, eyes opening to glare at him for denying you.

“Patience, darling. You will only come when I am inside of you.”

Your hands dropped to his trousers, quickly trying to get rid of the offending item and then moving your hands to unbutton his shirt.

His head dropped to the column of your throat, attaching his lips to your skin, and you knew that there would be marks later, and you knew he would leave multiple just to claim his territory, yet you could not bring yourself to care.

His knee shifted so it would press against the place in between your thighs, and you started moving your hips in rhythm, trying to create some friction. Riddle groaned, hands gripping your hips and nails digging into your skin.

One of his hands tugged on your underwear until it dropped to pool around your legs. Your heart drummed against your chest, knowing there was no going back from what you were about to do.

He pressed closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat when you felt him sliding against you, and you could not take it anymore. “Fuck me, sir.”

Riddle groaned lowly, your words shooting straight to his core before he raised one of your legs to curl around his hips. He slowly pushed into you, hissing at the way you felt around him.

You cried out, the stretch being painful, yet a twisted part of you found pleasure in it. You felt your whole body heat up at the feeling of having him inside of you, hips pressed against yours, and his dark eyes focused on you, and only you.

After giving you a moment to adjust, he drew back before pushing roughly back into you, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

The hand that was not holding your leg moved to curl around your throat, his rings digging into your skin, and a loud moan escaped your lips before you could contain it.

“Harder.” You breathed out.

His eyes snapped open to look at you before his hand tightened around your throat and his hips kept rolling against yours roughly, making you feel dizzy and floating, the pleasure of it all becoming unbearable.

He pressed his lips against your jaw, pushing into you again and again. You felt something building up in your lower stomach, and you moved your hips against him, meeting his thrusts.

His lips left your jaw to press against your reddened lips. Your hands tugged at his hair, and in response he bit your lower lip harshly, all the while keeping up the rough pace of his hips.

“I hate you.” You suddenly whispered, raising your other leg to wrap around his hip, allowing him to push in deeper.

“Is that so?” He laughed lowly, slowing his thrusts to look at you. “The sounds you are making right now prove otherwise.”

With that he ground his hips, with his right hand stationed at your hip, he allowed his head to fall forward, his forehead resting on your shoulder with a stuttering sigh. His release brought you over the edge, and with a final thrust of his hips, you cried out his name, fingers tightening in his dark curls.

“If this is the discipline you spoke of teaching, I believe I am in dire need of discipline lessons.”