#round Leather Cord

[creative-india]

Best Round Leather Cord For Bracelet in 2024

Creating beautiful and unique bracelets is a rewarding hobby, and one of the best materials to use is round leather cord. Its durability, flexibility, and aesthetic appeal make it a top choice for both novice and experienced jewelry makers. In this blog, we’ll explore the best round leather cords for bracelet making in 2024, helping you choose the right one for your next project.

Buy Best Round Leather Cord For Bracelet:- https://creative-leathers.com/product-category/leather-cords/round-leather-cords/

Why Choose Round Leather Cord for Bracelets?

Round leather cord offers several advantages when crafting bracelets:

Durability: Leather is naturally strong, ensuring that your bracelets can withstand daily wear.

Comfort: The soft texture of round leather cord feels great against the skin, making it comfortable for all-day wear.

Versatility: Available in various colors and thicknesses, round leather cord allows for endless design possibilities.

Classic Look: Leather adds a timeless and elegant touch to any piece of jewelry, enhancing its overall aesthetic.

Top Round Leather Cords for Bracelets in 2024

Here are some of the best round leather cords you can consider for your bracelet-making projects this year:

1. Natural Round Leather Cord (1.5mm)

Price: $0.25 - $0.50 per foot

Description: This natural leather cord features a beautiful, rustic finish. It’s perfect for minimalist designs and can be easily dyed or decorated. Its 1.5mm thickness is ideal for most bracelet styles, from simple to more intricate patterns.

2. Dyed Round Leather Cord (2mm)

Price: $0.30 - $0.70 per foot

Description: Available in a variety of vibrant colors, this dyed cord adds a splash of personality to your bracelets. The 2mm thickness provides a sturdy base for charms or beads, making it a versatile choice for various designs.

3. Thicker Round Leather Cord (3mm)

Price: $0.50 - $1.00 per foot

Description: If you're looking to create bold statement pieces, a thicker round leather cord is the way to go. This 3mm option is perfect for wrap bracelets and can hold heavier embellishments without compromising strength.

4. Braided Round Leather Cord

Price: $1.00 - $2.00 per foot

Description: For a unique texture, braided round leather cord is an excellent choice. Its intricate design adds visual interest to any bracelet, making it perfect for those who want something a little different.

5. Synthetic Round Leather Cord (1.5mm)

Price: $0.20 - $0.40 per foot

Description: This eco-friendly alternative to genuine leather offers a similar look and feel. It’s perfect for those who prefer cruelty-free materials, and its affordability makes it accessible for all crafters.

Tips for Using Round Leather Cord in Bracelets

Choose the Right Thickness: Depending on your design, select a cord thickness that suits your style. Thicker cords work well for statement pieces, while thinner ones are better for delicate designs.

Seal the Ends: To prevent fraying, use a drop of glue or a lighter to seal the ends of your leather cord before finishing your bracelet.

Experiment with Techniques: Don’t hesitate to try different knotting and weaving techniques. Round leather cord is flexible, allowing you to create a variety of styles.

Pair with Accessories: Incorporate beads, charms, or clasps to personalize your bracelet and enhance its design.

Conclusion

Round leather cord remains a top choice for bracelet making in 2024. With its durability, comfort, and aesthetic appeal, it’s the perfect material for crafters of all skill levels. Whether you opt for natural, dyed, or synthetic cord, there’s an option to suit every style. So gather your materials, unleash your creativity, and start crafting stunning leather bracelets today!

[rosanacafe]

Round leather cord por Rosana Por Flickr: For Crazy Tuesday: "Flexibles"

[sunnetherlands]

BRAIDED LEATHER CORD | Sun Enterprises

Sun Enterprises is a wholesale supplier based in the Netherlands that specializes in Braided leather cords, findings, and jewelry supplies. They offer a wide range of leather products, including braided leather cords, for wholesale purchase.

You can visit their website at sun-enterprises.eu to browse their catalog and contact them directly for wholesale inquiries. They often provide information about minimum order quantities, pricing, and shipping options on their website.

When reaching out to Sun Enterprises or any wholesale supplier, be sure to specify your requirements, such as the quantity of braided leather you need, the desired thickness and color, and any customization options you may require. This will help them provide you with accurate pricing and availability information.

[dresshistorynerd]

Sewing a turn of the 15th century French kirtle in doll scale

Another day, another historical doll outfit! This time it's Late Medieval. This was a popular style from about 1380-1420 France and Alpine area, but I specifically based this dress on French illuminations from the early 15th century, which mostly effects the details, like headwear. As always I hand stitched everything and stuck to historical construction methods as much as I could.

Chemise

I made a very simple chemise. The construction is based on what we know from extant finds, made out of simple rectangles and triangles, like earlier unlaced kirtles. Based on illustrations, chemise was fairly slim but unfitted enough it didn't need closures. I made it from linen, because it's not very gathered and won't bulk up too much, so I don't need to use my very fine cotton voile.

Cote

Cote is just the French word for kirtle, so appropriate here. This is the supportive layer cote, which was sort of an undergarment, but was considered fully dressed, if informal on it's own. The sleeves on this underlayer were always long and either fully fitted or gathered at the wrist. Some fitted sleeve styles had a flare at the wrist which covered the hand. The very fitted look was achieved with buttons. The silhouette was smooth and fitted, the waistline was slightly above the natural waist, though that was not as pronounced in France as in Northern Italy. Abdomen was emphasized, round lower stomach was the body ideal. The cut of the dress left plenty of room there. To fill that room I folded the chemise under the abdomen as a sort of padding. This was common to do with any kind of skirts, primarily to raise the hem when working, but why not for this purpose also? The necklines were fairly low and very wide.

I used cotton because I didn't have suitable thin enough wool that wouldn't have created too much bulk on this scale, but the cote should have been made from. The cotton is tightly woven and sells the look of a woven wool in this scale well enough for me. I didn't finish seems or line it to avoid bulk. I did give the lacing a cording to reinforce it and avoid wrinkling. The cotton was originally white, but I dyed it with iron oxide, basically rust, which at least is very much historical.

Hose

I made the hose from cotton as well for the same reasons as I did the cote. Long pointed style became fashionable around this time, as well as sewing leather soles in the bottoms of the hose instead of using shoes. Though often pattens (wooden flipflops basically) could be used when walking outside to protect the leather soles.

Cornettes or horned hair

I tied the hair with a tape on cornettes, where the volume of hair was tied on the temples to create a bit of horned appearance, especially when combined with the horned headwear. The sort of fillet which became more of a forehead loop seemed to have been tied into the hair, which I did.

Cotehardie

Cotehardie meant literally "bold cote", and in France that was what the formal outer cote was called. It was basically the same as cote, but made from more expensive materials and often had large hanging sleeves. I went with widening triangular sleeves, since they were perhaps the most popular sleeves at the time. I used fine fulled wool (verka) I had enough scraps left from. White fur was popular lining material, but obviously I can't use fur in this scale, I wish I had some light white velvet, it would have been pretty good, but I didn't. I lined the skirt and the sleeves with white cotton to imitate the look without adding too much body or extra bulk. I decorated the neckline with a simple golden trim. I thought about adding a bit of golden embroidery around it too, like seemed to have been popular, but my local crafts store had run out of golden thread so I decided to go with this only.

Accessories

Unlike the belt used with houppelande, which was below bust, the belt used with the kirtle or cotehardie, was very low, under the abdomen to emphasize it. I went for a silk belt look, which I'm imagining is embroidered/woven with golden thread, since embroidery that small would have been too painful. I had an old broken necklace, which I could use for the metallic parts.

With the pouch I went for the tasseled drawstring look, with simple embroidery manageable in this scale. I used linen for it.

Headwear

I made her a chaperon, which likely was where the escoffion got it's beginning, escoffion being the round tube-like headwear worn on top of the head seen in several primary source images above. Early form of escoffion was becoming very popular at the time, though chaperon's were still seen on women too. Chaperon, as seen below both on the left-most woman and the man in the middle was actually just the hood rolled into a circle.

Because the horned look was popular, the escoffion and chaperon were often worn over the wired horned veil, so I first made that. I made it from cotton to make it as light as possible. It was just a square I hemmed. I just used some wire to poke out the horns from her hair and pinned the veil close from the back and onto her hair from the top.

Then I made the open hood. It was just the regular hood which had become very popular during the last century and which had ever longer narrow tip, but it was pinned and worn open, probably because of the hair style and to again create the horned look. I made if from the same cotton I made the hose, even though it too should be from wool. But it was already too bulky as it was.

And finally I could make the chaperon. Here's first chaperon without wire or veil under it and then with those. The effect isn't as pronounced as I would have hoped because the hood is too bulky, but there is an effect which is nice.

[celestial-sphere-press]

what kind/style of endbands do you usually do? they look so good 👀

hi!! sorry for taking a while to answer, I wanted to make sure I could give you my best answer.

I usually do what's called a "double core" endband. I use double core endbands over the "bead on front" method because bead on front style is not great for uneven distributions of color, irregular patterns, or using more than three colors. Functionally it works by having your extra threads wrapped up inside the thread that is showing, forming the smaller secondary core. Ultimately you are doing figure 8s around the main core & then your secondary core of thread. This keeps things pretty neat & tidy. The tutorial I first used was this one by DAS Bookbinding, though I don't think his endband tutorials are his best ones. Another binder I've spoken with endbands about a lot is maleeka, who recently did an endband tutorial herself.

maybe I should do one... but it takes a lot for me to get enough motivation to make videos. I'll take this opportunity to write up some tips I've shared when people ask instead:

1. Endband core material is the MOST IMPORTANT component. You need a core that is stiff but flexible - it should NOT be floppy because it wiggles everywhere under the tension of the thread, but still needs to flex with the opening & closing of the book. You want something that doesn't compress, to reduce tension shifts in thread creating a lumpy endband. Have a smooth core is less critical but helps to avoid snagging threads & allows you some leeway on sliding threads around for adjustments. My personal choice is smooth leather jewelers cord (link is just an example, I get mine from a local craft store).

2. Thread size. All your threads need to be the same size; it will be visible if you are using two different sizes, and mess with your front core. Additionally, I know lots of people will use larger twists of multiple strands of embroidery thread, which can work, but is more likely to compress & alter its size in unexpected ways. A single strand is preferable. If you want something thicker you can find some thread weights that are heavier twists intended to be used in a single strand, not pulled apart. I prefer smaller sizes because it works better for the gradient designs I like.

3. Silk thread is your friend (if you can spend the money on it). It reduces fuzz (no fuzz like you get with cotton/DMC embroidery thread), it's usually easier to manage, has a more compact twist, and a higher shine. I use Japanese silk hand sewing thread in size #9 (9号). There's multiple brands (Tire, Daruma, KNK/kanagawa, etc). Here's a wholesale listing (minimum 20,000¥ for international). A non-Japanese brand is Guterman silk (German brand). Both the Japanese & German threads come in a heavier weight (Japanese is #16, Guterman is buttonhole).

4. Thread tension is the most important part of the actual technique. You need to ensure the threads currently wrapped in the secondary core keep tension when you are working the thread around them.

5. Working on a curve. This is only really relevant if you're doing an endband on a rounded book, but the circumference of the curve means there's more real estate on the outside vs inside of the curve. Sometimes this can cause bunching on the secondary core. My own solution to this is that sometimes I wrap the primary core but drop a wrap here or there around the secondary core (only between two wraps of the same color I'm dropping). I uh... don't know of anyone currently recommending this besides myself so I can't point to any pro endorsement for this method, it's just what works for me. Forgive my terrible writing:

6. Pattern management. I... don't really plan much how my patterns sit on the spine, which is not very helpful. HOWEVER you can do some pattern management on the fly, if you really want your pattern to end at a certain place. Thread can be packed more or less densely on the core, resulting in some pattern compression; you could also strategically drop wraps in less noticeable locations. An unintended example: I was replicating the pattern on this endband (left) when I realize I wasn't packing the thread as densely as I had the first time around (right), which resulted in the overall pattern taking up more space. You can do this on purpose, if you need to.

this was way more than you asked but it gave me a chance to put all this in one spot. Best of luck in vanquishing the dreaded EndWyrms.

[armory-rasa]

COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!

[ervotica]

twilight request: paul and human reader know each other since childhood and he imprinted on her at this time so its been known that they're "together" but he never officially asked her to be his girlfriend or anything and reader gets really frustrated with that bc she feels like paul and the whole imprinting thing are trapping her and she feels suffocate by him sometimes so tension !!!

distance makes the heart grow fonder

pairing; paul lahote x fem!reader

word count; 1.4k

warnings; hurt/comfort, angst, fluffy ending, paul is a dumb boy but he makes up for it ig

a/n; ahhh i missed writing for twilight! luv my boy paul<333

You're pouting, pressed into the well worn divot in the seat of Emily's couch as you glower at Paul from across the room; the leather almost swallows you whole, suctioning against your bare legs when you shuffle to face him. He huffs when you sigh, corded biceps crossing over his chest.

"What?" He feigns innocence as though you weren't witness to him flirting his way through the party at La Push last night. Something red hot and angry twists at your insides as you recall the memories.

"I'm not your girlfriend."

He breathes a sharp exhale, a brow raising in question.

"No, you're not."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dismissal, pushing back the sharp sting at the edges of your vision and instead sinking further into the old leather and picking at a loose thread in your sweater. You can feel his eyes on you when you angle your body away from his, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as it warbles.

"So how come you think you have this stupid claim on me, then? A guy likes me and you threaten to rip his throat out, but you're allowed to flirt with any girl with a pulse?"

A low warning rumble pushes through Paul's chest, a signal that you dutifully ignore. He takes a step towards you, then two and three, until he's looming over your figure.

"Because you are mine," he says, brow pulling tight.

"So I'm yours but you're not mine?" you persist. "I don't think that's fair." Your blood roars in your ears; everything feels too hot, jealousy pouring into your veins like molten lava, thrumming and rushing against your frantic pulse. "I'm done, Paul."

He blinks. Takes another step towards you before you're holding your hand out, pressing the tips of your manicured nails into the dip of his stomach to halt his approach.

"What?" His mouth feels dry, struggling to form words as he stares– just stares, brow pinched, nostrils flaring.

"I- I can't do this. I can't spend my life waiting around for you when you don't care about me."

He crouches, sliding those warm palms up and around your calves, cupping the backs of your knees.

"You think I don't care about you?"

You sniffle, folding your knees up to your chest; Paul moves fluidly with you, thick fingers curled round your limbs as though he's an extension of your own body.

"Not the way I care about you."

Your body betrays you, flushing white-hot as he knuckles at your jaw, the pad of his thumb - calloused from years of fighting and rough play - pushing its way into the soft flesh of your cheek.

A tear slips from your welling waterline and gathers in the crook of his knuckle.

"Baby-"

You bristle, shrugging away his touch as if it will somehow lessen the ache in your chest, the hollow feeling you can't seem to shake. He crawls upward, onto the couch next to you, his spine bowing until he's curled over your shuddering form.

"Don't call me that. You don't mean it."

"Bab-"

"Stop."

He straightens, taut as a bowstring, watching as your back curves and you rake your flushed face against the rough denim of your jeans. You feel his attitude change, soft pity melting to anger, spine stiffening, lips pushing into a hard line that morphs his expression into something you hate.

Because he never directs his anger at you.

Shame - ugly and cruel - licks at your veins, heats your blood almost hot enough to curdle. It scalds your every vein and sours you from the inside out.

You swipe at your swollen eyes with the backs of your fingers, unfolding your limbs until you're standing. Your voice wavers as you speak.

"I'm going home," you croak.

"You can't just leave!" He throws his hands up, standing until you're chest to chest, nose to nose. "We need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. You didn't ask to be shackled to me."

"You think that's what you are to me?" he asks, and the cruel bite to his tone is enough to make you cry all over again.

"What am I, then?"

A beat passes. Two. Three. Paul's fingers curl into tight fists at his sides; your eyes sting when you push back the telltale itch at your waterline, and you sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that he means more to you than you do to him.

"I'm going home," you say again, firmer. "It's better this way, Paul. Trust me."

It's always what you've been best at, anyway. Running.

Paul's torn between following you and sinking further into the couch; he opts for the latter, teeth bared in a groan as he curls a fist around a stray cushion, nails almost piercing and tearing the soft fabric.

The engine of your truck sounds far away in his ears as you pull out of the driveway, his chest hollow, the ache growing as you cover more distance.

Away from him.

When you walk through the door, the silence of your apartment is like a strike to the head; the soft whooshing of the washing machine does little to soothe the throbbing in your chest at your imprinters absence.

Not that you're sure he really is yours.

You're quick to strip of the tee and jeans you're sporting, eager to rid yourself of Paul's scent – once a comfort, now it only serves to deepen the aching tremors that wrack your body with white-hot agony.

The quiet lasts two days. Two days of no text messages, no phone calls, not a whisper of his name among the wind. Complete radio silence.

Two days until Paul Lahote is beating down your door with a ferocity that should terrify you.

It only serves to kick up your flaring anger as you wrench the door open, the hinges rattling.

He doesn't give you a second to breathe, surging forward to lock his arms around you like a vice, shoulders shuddering with every laboured breath.

"Paul," you scold, squirming in his grip when he tightens his hold on you, nuzzling his nose against your pulse point. The frantic way in which he clings to you, palms kneading the flesh beneath your t-shirt, is almost primal – as though he's scenting, marking you.

"You know how much it fucking hurts to be away from you?" he grunts, backing you into the wall. You gasp, instinctually threading your fingers through the hairs at his nape as he hungrily grabs at every inch of your skin he can reach. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, scoffing at his words.

As if he has any right to feel this way. As if this isn't his fault.

"You know how much you hurt me..." You take a breath, voice warbling as tears gather at your lash line. "...all the time? You know how much you torture me?"

Paul coos, smoothing a hand over your head. "I know, baby. I know."

You sniffle, and your throat tightens, a silent sob pushing its way from your clenched teeth.

"Hate you," you whimper. "Hate you so much."

Paul groans, pressing his chest to yours. His rumbling cadence seeps right down to your bones.

"I'll swear off it all, princess. No more girls, no more flirting. No more parties. Just me 'nd you, how 'bout that?"

You sigh, eyes wide as you peer curiously up at him. "You don't mean that."

Desperation coats his every word. "Mean every word of it, I promise. Please, these last two days have been hell without you, princess. I don't want to be away from you."

"You're just saying that," you purl. "You'd be unhappy."

Paul's head dips until his lips are ghosting across your cheek, his voice rasping. He kneads circles into the fat of your hip, nudging you closer into his space with every reverent touch.

"I can't breathe without you," he says, voice thick with tears. "I'm miserable. I'll do anything, please."

You sniffle, preening at his touch like a needy kitten. "You wanna be with me? Or you're just sayin' that 'cause I made a fuss about it?"

"Wanna be with you always, baby. I'm yours."

You sob, curling your fingers around the nape of his neck to press wet, smacking kisses to his cheeks. Tears coat your lips as you mouth at him, thumbs rubbing circles over his jaw.

Paul's chest shudders around an exhale.

"I love you."

You laugh wetly; he lifts you up until your legs twine around his waist.

"How about you show me how much you love me, Lahote."

[valiantverses]

Tremors

Ghoap X Reader

Summary: A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.

Trigger Warning: Angsty. Discussions of Soap's injuries, the reader has mental health struggles and everyone has communication difficulties to some degree.

A/N: Scuttling out of the woodwork after having a pain flare, a breakdown, a career shift and getting some life altering surgery. Here's a new series while I rework all my previous writing!

Comments, questions, requests and constructive criticisms are welcome. Hate is boring and will go unacknowledged.

_

Maybe therapy wasn't for you.

Baring your soul to a total stranger and unearthing your life to be scrutinised by somebody. Then having that somebody turn around and drop you as a client because you were 'beyond their scope' and recommending you to someone else. It left an acrid sort of burn at the back of your throat as you settled into the sofa in the cheery waiting room of your hastily found counsellor.

Tick.

The leather underneath your fingers was squeaky. Static-y. The kind of leather where the grooves of the well-worn parts of the couch were buttery smooth and a slightly darker shade of black until it reached the bits that weren't quite as worn.

Tock.

The sound of papers shuffling and a low voice calling out a name drew your attention. It wasn't yours. Wordlessly, you watched a woman to your left stand up. The rubber of her cane cracked across the linoleum as she she signed her name on to the clip board at the desk, murmured her greetings to the therapist and made her way inside, the door shutting with a soft click.

Tick.

St. Jude-Thaddeus Hospital's Rehabilitation and Pain Management Clinic had the honour of being the only facility of any sort in your area that offered psycotherapy services. Affordable ones, anyway. Something to do with being integrated into the Ministry of Defense Hospital Units for disabled veterans- but you didn't need to know, so you didn't ask.

You'd take what you could get.

Tock.

You glance up at the clock once more, seeing that you were now close to 10 minutes to your first ever appointment with this therapist. A part of you wanted to fast forward the next 40 minutes of your day. Maybe the next few hours. Get to the point where your obligations were done and the first meeting was over and done with.

Tick.

When the door opens next, you don't look up this time. You try to contain the shake of your hands and focus on that squeaky leather underneath you. The thumps of footsteps don't register before the slight sink of the couch does. When you glance up, it is to the bluest eyes you could imagine.

He was handsome, a part of your brain helpfully informed you. Dark eyelashes framing a sort of azure blue, shards of indigo flecked about like sleet in the rain. His tanned skin had that slight leatheriness that could only come from working under the sun, the hand jutted out towards you littered with callouses-

"-hnny MacTavish, haven't seen you round here before."

Your hand moves mechanically to accept his handshake, mouth producing syllables you knew was supposed to be your name.

Realising the beat of conversation had stretched on longer than it should and it was now your turn to fulfill your part of the social contract that the stranger had looped you into, you broke eye contact and glanced back down at the worn linoleum.

"It's my first time."

There was a snort to the other side of you, from a bulky man sat diagonally from the line of chairs you and Johnny were sat in.

You quickly ammend your statement "-with this therapist. Just moved in."

His bulk seemed to carve away the space of the room, hulking shoulders leading to a thickly corded neck, lower face covered in a black face mask and his eyes a thin ring of deep ocean blue. What little skin you could see of his face looked sallow. Drained.

"Ignore tha' git. Insists on tagging along with me like I'm a wee wain and wreaks havoc of all sorts." The voice from your left supplied as you quickly began reassessing the relationship between the two strangers you found yourself in the middle of.

"You two know each other?"

There was a rumble to your left, a deep bass-y sound you realised was laughter. "Could say that, ma'am. "

"My partner," Johnny supplied, eyeroll evident in his voice as you turned to look at him once more. It was a little overwhelming having to keep turning your head to and fro because of the way the chairs were positioned, and your fingers dug into the leather once more.

Slippery, smooth. Pebbled with some long indentations.

"That's Simon. We've been at this shrink for give or take four months now-"

"Fifteen weeks."

"*-would'a noticed a bonnie lass like you on our weekly, enlightening visits." His quip was cheery, but there was an element of sarcasm you couldn't quite place.

This conversation felt like navigating a field full of landmines. Couldn't ask about his condition, why the weekly visits rather than the gold standard (That is, the national healthcare coverage) of every two weeks, why fifteen weeks- so you asked the only thing you felt you could.

"She any good? The counselor, I mean."

Johnny blinked, head tilting and making eye contact with his partner - Simon - there was a flash of something twisting across his face as the wordless conversation happened in a split second.

It was fascinating. The sort of communication that only happened when two people had an intimate well of knowledge of the other person.

Then dawn broke across Johnny's face and he turned back to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Aye, lass. Not afraid to crack into your brain and really dig around. Well good laugh too, great to interact with given I've really only spoken to four people or so since I retired an' all."

You tried not to read between the lines. Tried not to stare at the way he leaned back to rub at the jagged line across his scalp, the puckered edges evident under the peach fuzz of dark hair. He was giving you what he could without dragging a stranger into his own vortex of struggles. You could relate.

"Retired? From military service?"

Regret looked different on people's faces. For some, there was a grimace. Maybe a slight widening of the eyes in realisation, or a hitch in their breath. Self-reproach for bringing it up in the first place. For Johnny, it appeared to be a slight furrowing of his brows and a darkening of his sky blue eyes as he edged backwards.

A cough and the scraping of the chair behind you drew your attention, looking to your right to meet the cold stare of the blond. Briefly, you felt like a cornered animal. Your hands grew still. His gaze was assessing, stony face giving nothing away except the overwhelming vibe of back the fuck off. His eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to yours.

"Sounds like they're finishing up in there. You should sign in."

It appeared you had clambered out of the field of land mines only to immediately fall into a sinkhole.

Stuttering your goodbyes, you make to stand up, making the same trek the young lady had towards the desk. You fought to control the tremors of your hands. One stayed tucked deeply in a pocket as the other wrote your name down through sheer muscle memory. Sure enough, the door opened and the woman walked out with her mobility aid, a cheery voice calling out your name from inside.

As your shaky palm took hold of the doorknob to twist it so you could enter the room, you caught snippets of the conversation happening behind you.

"Bothering you-"

"-Ost, It would have been fine-"

"Your hands were shaking again-"

"Ach- I had it under control!"

"You don't owe strangers anything. Not after everything you've-"

"Please- I just- I need to have a feckin' conversation about it without breaking down-"

The door shut with a click.

As you sat down in front of your new therapist, you resolved to try and move your appointments to a different day.

[emilykaldwen]

FFWAD 24 - Sins of the Father by @selfproclaimedunicorn

For my first foray into this yearly celebration with @renegadeguild, I picked the brilliant and fantastic story, Sins of the Father by @selfproclaimedunicorn. Misa has taken the fantastic AU premise 'What if Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce had kids?' and has run with it in the most delicious and satisfying way. The story isn't complete, but the first 'arc' has a good stopping point at a whopping 160k words, which made for the chonkiest book you could imagine.

This was the twelth book I've bound (both fic and rebinds of old favorites) and I tried several new techniques for it including rounding and backing the spine. I also stretched my legs in the formatting department and went all in with the interior. That meant ordering some special springhill paper to do these fantastic maps for the endpages. Full details behind the cut!

Typesetting: Normally I've kept my settings pretty minimal as I got used to the ins and outs of InDesign (during this, I did purchase Affinity Publisher and might end up moving to that, but I'm finally getting the hang of ID and you can pry it from my cold hands). I really wanted to mimic some of the interior of Fire & Blood for this, so I hunted down the fonts used and took an image of the decorative banner you see on the sides to use for the chapter openers. I also wanted to include timelines and family trees in true historically inspired fantasy tradition.

The family tree was created based off of the author's spreadsheet in Google Drawing, which I found to be the easiest thing to use when it comes to creating chaotic family trees like this (In the past I'd used lucid chart for a printable version, but google worked better here).

the timeline is honestly my favorite thing and I learned how to use tables in ID for the first time. I'm incredibly pleased with it. The formatting is based upon the line of kings in the source. The timeline covers the events of the first arc as printed in this particular story.

The chapter openers are some of my favorite! As the children are proud to be House Royce, I wanted to reflect that. The runes you see behind the Chapter number and title are the Floki font and name the character whose the POV for each chapter.

Since there's plenty of High Valyrian spoken and the author doesn't include the translations within narrative, it was the perfect moment to set up footnotes. I'll absolutely be doing this for my own story when I bind it!

Rounding and Backing: So this was a total adventure, but I really wanted the old book feel. I made the mistake of pressing the book for too long and lost a lot of the swell in the spine to round but it worked out AND I managed to back it a little bit. Since I wasn't doing cord tapes for the spine (this was a version of the three piece bradel), I had to troubleshoot. I ended up cutting strips of the leather cord I bought from michaels and laminating those pieces together and placing them on the oxford hollow on the spine (given how thick the book is, I wanted to give it as much structural strength as possible). The 'leather' covering you see is actually the craft leather (polyester) from Dollar Tree and it's pretty awesome but definitely has difficulties staying put with glue. I followed the normal procedure and slathered both sides up and used twine to compress the bookcloth along those leather pieces. there's a little gaping in some places which I think would help if I'm able to properly apply backing paper to the polyester.

HTV do's and don'ts: Hi! don't be me and forget to apply your teflon sheets before applying the HTV because then you fuck with the polyester but it's not too bad. The other pro-tip is to gently apply the iron to the cover so it's warm before applying the HTV so it can start to stick. I had to apply the front cover in three pieces and do the title twice. Also, it's really difficult to apply HTV to a rounded spine so I'll have to figure out how to set up the spine and cover before applying (since there's a certain amount of stretching the bookcloth over the spine). The spine might end up having to be regular adhesive vinyl for that. Also, it's stupidly hard to find metallic HTV in bronze.

Front matter and final thoughts: The bronze dragon was a lucky find through an extensive google search, and the runes surrounding it are 'we remember with fire and blood', a combination of House Royce and House Targaryen's words. Seems fitting four Yorick, Ella, and Aemon! The copyright page is mimicked off the source's style, including the AO3 information, the creative commons and fair use information, the guild stamp, a QR code to the AO3 page, and my own press stamp! The summary is pulled from AO3 as well.

All in all, I made this book twice and I loved it and learned so much every time.

I'm so happy with this project and I'm so excited to do the next arc! Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful story, Misa!

[gothgoblinqueen]

You could see yourself in the shining mirror of the window, walking up to the gym. You could see your pristine face, adorned with such wide round glasses. Your skin, only around your face, was pearl white to offset your intensely black lips.

From the collar of your neck ran a long, thin black leather cord. It ended in the hands of your therapist..or..Mommy..you weren't sure which she was anymore. At the last moment before the door she turned and took an appraising view.

She adjusted your top, which was tight across your breasts. They were obviously fakes, held up buy your sports bra but no one would notice as they bounced in front of you with every step. Mommy Therapist reached down and used her fingers to outline your massive bulge, protruding from the front of your gym tights, giving it a soft tug to get it swinging back and forth and you where walked in through the door.

Last weeks workout session ended with and several men in the locker room. This week would be different as you could see the woman behind the counter already preparing the closed sign to be hung on the door. Her look was predatory and hungry. She had been waiting.

[im-ovulating]

Not proofread, or thought out. I just opened the draft and started writing after getting the idea from a gc. Everybody say, "Thank you, Paws!"

@pawspurpaw @alecvolturi @kiiwiigii

It happened because of a joke. A pretty low tier joke too-

You had brought home a new collar for that damned dog of yours, only to jokingly put it on and run off to find him with the sole purpose of hitting him with a singular, 'Woof'. Once you saw you weren't getting more than an unamused, deadpan stare, you had turned tail (ha) and ventured off to put it on the actual dog. What you hadn't known was that the expressionless stare wasn't because Alec is a wet blanket, rather, it was due to the system reboot he had to go through when the sight of that strip of leather around your delicate throat sent a shockwave through him and ignited a primal sort of heat within him.

All of that to explain what brings us to the current scene: you on your hands and knees as Alec pounds into you from behind. His hand is wrapped with the thin cord of a delicate silver leash connected to a pretty pink collar that he's buckled securely around your neck. He uses his hold on the lead to tug and pull you back as you try to squirm away from the overstimulation.

Between your thighs is a sticky mess of your arousal and his cum. It drips obscenely to the silk sheets below as you cry out about it being too much despite the fact that you can feel that all too familiar coiling deep in your tummy.

"Too much?" Alec mocks, giving a harsh tug and momentarily cutting your oxygen intake off. "If it's too much, why are you clenching like you're about to cream all over my cock again?"

Your cheeks burn with a mixture of arousal, humiliation, and exertion. It's a little shameful to admit that it has you teetering even closer to the edge.

"That's it, pet, submit. Submit to the feeling. You're *mine*- My mate. My toy. My pet-" he growls low in his chest as his buries himself deep in you, spilling one last round of cum into your already flooded womb.

Your arms are shaky, your legs jelly, your messy cunt puffy from abuse. And yet you feel yourself tumble over the peak once more. Your arms finally go out and you collapse face first into the sheets, ignoring how the collar digs uncomfortably into the skin of your neck as you strain against the firm grip he holds on the leash. Your mind goes blank as you let out a choked version of his name.

You swear your vision blacks out and your ears are ringing, but through the muffled sound of the world slowly fading back in, you here, "That's my girl... my good, little pet."

[sunnetherlands]

Elevate Your Style with All-Round Braided Leather Goods from Sun Enterprises

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Does the serum make Steve…. louder? Like his lung capacity is obviously more than the average. Did his vocal cords get super soldier-ed too?

Of course, that would mean that Bucky would have to gag him when they have sex. Especially the marathon, sweaty, desperate, edging, kind of sex where Steve just loses all control over his volume because he can’t even hear how loud he’s being over the the sound of his own blood pumping straight to his cock.

They have all kinds of gags so Bucky can control how loud he wants Steve to be since Steve can’t. Maybe even one that looks like the Winter Soldier mask.

Holy shit, I love this idea.

Even if lung capacity and/or vocal chord strength doesn't equate to volume in any meaningful way, my answer to this ask is fucking YES.

YES.

Yes, simply for the fact that I fucking love vocal partners. Major knee-buckling, weak spot for me. So, there's no way I can resist a louder Steve post-serum. Louder and more sensitive, which is just... irresistible 😮‍💨😮‍💨

This got out of hand, I'm supposed to be doing homework, not writing filth on Tumblr, lmao

And the mention of gags alongside the vocal-nature of this makes me think of this fic:

"Day 18: Leather/Latex" by hannahrhen

Anyway--

I can not get my mind off of vocal top Steve. There's 🤌🏻something about him🤌🏻

Imagine him, on top of Bucky, pressing him into the mattress with all his strength--back muscles rippling, so slim to so broad from his hips to his shoulders that it looks impossible, making your eyes almost roll back, just staring, his ass round and biteable, his thighs flexing, his dick putting in work, carving out space for himself inside Bucky.

Steve's shaking and sweating as his hips thrust, his movements so well practiced--fluid, but deep and hard, too. It's intense as fuck. Just how Bucky likes it. Feels so good.

And, God, the rhythm is more than enough to leave Steve's blonde hair hanging over his forehead, mused and sex-ruffled. He's glowing sweat, misted like a fucking Greek God, but so, so much better than pale, white marble he's pink and feverish, his heart pulsing wildly in his chest all the way down to his devastatingly hard dick.

His heart racing and racing as he pants with his mouth open, groaning lowly when Bucky clenches down on his thick cock hard, it makes Steve insane, so tight, he can't believe he fits inside his little hole, whimpering when Bucky tells him faster, faster, oh, ah, ah, ah, yes!, moaning right in Bucky's ear when Steve stops pinning his wrists to the bed, shifting to grab his shoulders and really pound him instead, and Bucky's hands grab at him greedily, wanting to feel his muscles work as he fucks him, pulling him down. He fucks him good and hard, using all his bulk to make Bucky fucking take it.

When he moans like that in his ear, making him crazy with want, Bucky might try to tilt his head to the side, panting just as hard, breath humid and thick, gasping for just a little oxygen between their mouths, begging for a sloppy, filthy kiss but Steve can't lock lips. He can't stop making sounds. The best he can do is moan right into his mouth.

It's so hot. The sounds.

The noises.

Gasping. Whining. Moaning. Panting. Groaning.

All these obscene sounds that mix intoxicatingly with the harsh, wet sound of their bodies colliding. Steve is fucking him hard. And it feels so good. It lights Bucky up--he's only dry kindling and Steve is a match, the friction between them lights them both. Flames lapping at their skin. Soon enough, it's hot enough to crackle and spread, and they're taking down the whole forest. Ignited. Unable to stop. Not when Steve sounds like that. Not when he moves like that, making Bucky see nothing but white-hot sparks.

Pleasured so good, Bucky can bite his tongue, groaning softly and panting and swearing under his labored breath as Steve lays into him like he wants him dead, pounding his prostate until he feels like he might burst, all this pleasure rushing like painful, aching, glorious, intense static through his veins. Steve can't bite his tongue, though.

Steve can't shut his fucking mouth.

Bucky loves it. He's so loud. When it's not mind meltingly hot to hear every hit of pleasure that he takes, it's hilarious because it's so goddamn inconvenient. As much as Bucky might want to bitch and moan about it, complaining that they'll never be able to have a quickie in some closet or bathroom or back of the car because they'll be found out immediately with Steve wailing like that... the moment he starts to feel irritated, he'll twitch or clench or grab, and Steve will just let out the most guttural, wanting sound at the perfect moment, leaving Bucky snickering. Combing a hand through his hair, cooing at his big, dumb, fucked-out face. Mouth-open moaning.

Yeah, Bucky's best guy is loud.

So, even when Bucky manages to reach up, muscles trembling as he goes boneless on Steve's dick, to jam a few fingers between his gaping, swollen lips... Steve's hardly muffled. He's distracted, sure, licking, tonguing, and slurping around his fingers as if they're his dick, but he's moaning too. He's moaning more. That part of Bucky's body in his mouth. How could it not be good? How could it not make his lungs punch out a sound of desire? Lust thick inside him.

Guh.

He's hot and wet and drooling around Bucky's fingers and not any fucking quieter. He might be louder, Jesus Christ.

Naturally, then, it escalates.

If fingers won't do it, what will? How can Bucky get Steve to a reasonable goddamn volume when they fuck? What about Bucky's underwear, literally ripped off of his body in impatience and now an otherwise useless scrap of fabric, stuffed into his mouth? What about Steve's own underwear? There's no difference, really, Bucky just wants it. How about the bottom hem of Steve's sweatshirt, pushed up and shoved between his teeth, giving Bucky an eye-crossing view of his clenching belly and bouncing tits as he fucks him? A ball gag? Bit gags (again, because Bucky wants it, Steve wants it, there's no reason why it would keep Steve's volume down when a ball doesn't, no matter how fat the intrusion is)? A scarf tied around the back of his head? A panel gag? A thick belt doubled over and pushed between drool-glistening lips? A strip of shiny tape slapped over his full, plush lips that leaves a red mark around his mouth like smeared lipstick when they're done, and Bucky tears it off of him? An inflatable gag that Bucky can pump more and more until Steve is whimpering about the fullness and stretch while he's pumping Bucky full?

What will it fucking take? And why is it so hot, the length they have to go to just to make sure that nobody interrupts them with how loose Steve's lips are. All whiny and needy, despite how Steve fucks like a champ. He sounds like he should be the one getting pounded into the mattress (or couch, or wall, or shoulder wall, or... yeah.)

What will it fucking take?

A muzzle?

Bucky jokes. It's a half serious suggestion while they have lazy, post-mission sex that is absolutely better than the sex anyone else is having when they're not exhausted and at the top of their game, thank you very much. Their uniforms are half on, on the way to getting suspicious stains, half revealing dirty, bruised skin--just enough to whip it out and to take it.

Steve is hesitant at first, considering their history with muzzles. He doesn't know if he could stand to do it. Especially if it's a full muzzle that covers the bottom of his face like what the soldier wore. But, later, when they're toweling off after their post-lazy-sex, lazy-shower-sex... the moment Bucky gives him that lazy, charming grin, popping his dimples, and drawls richly about the pleasure of taking the power back, feeling the reins in his own hands, calling the shots...

Oh, God.

Steve's stiff in his jeans immediately, and he needs to, at least, try. For Bucky's sake. Sure, Steve, Bucky's sake. It doesn't have to do with any kind of selfish need to see Bucky's eyes lit with fire, as he dangles a muzzle in front of his face, taunting him. Steve kneeling. Poised to crawl on his hands and knees toward the other man above him. Low enough he could kiss Bucky's feet. He could use his tongue to clean his boots, humming at the taste, knowing exactly where he's been by the grit on his teeth and tongue. Savoring it. Everything he's done for him. The hell he's walked through to get to him. Above him, Bucky's reclined on the edge of their bed, one hand behind him, leaning, all casual and powerful, alluring with his thighs spread wide, setting the muzzle in his lap before curling his finger smoothly. Wordlessly beckoning Steve over so he can shut him up and they can have fun without the neighbor's calling the cops... again.

Those sure, knowing fingers tilting Steve's head up with a mean grip on his chin and slipping the rigid leather onto his face, making sure he can't open his mouth to moan like hell when he's given the privilege of fucking Bucky.

Those fingers.

Those fingers that Steve's going to watch, silenced and muzzled, as they stretch and pry his tight, wet flesh open, preparing himself for Steve's cock. Propped up on his knees in front of Steve, his belly and chest to the bed, hips up, thighs invitingly wide, showing him where he's so tight and aching, but... not yet.

Steve can't touch yet.

And he can't beg to touch. Muzzled.

He can only swallow back sounds and stare desperately, longingly, saliva flooding his mouth.

While they're at it--Steve muzzled like a big, obedient puppy, so good and big as he slides into Bucky after he's stretched, squirming on his back, his thighs still wide open to give Steve a teasing glimpse of his wet hole--Bucky adds a collar for good measure.

A collar.

The strip of thick, dark leather around his throat is complete with a leash, so Bucky can pull it tight, keeping his big, hulking puppy close with the taut, short stretch of leather between their heated bodies.

His fist. Steve's neck. Connected. Joined as one.

He owns him.

It's not like Steve could go anywhere with Bucky's thick, powerful thighs clenched around his trim waist anyway. He's trapped. Entangled in Bucky's heat. All tight and hot and wet inside. And his voice is just as restricting as the leash around his throat--cutting off his air, pulled at just the right moment to slice his muffled moans in half when he pulls at his leash--and orders him to hold back. D-don't cum. Not yet. I'm, 'm not done fuh-fucking done with you yet. Make me cum again. J-just, ngh, just one more. 'M not done yet. Then you can have your treat, okay, boy? That sound good, huh, pup? Mmm, mmm-hmm, yeah, yeah, just like that, gimme it like th-that.

Steve whines, pathetically muffled. It's barely a sound at all, so softened, but at the same time, it's so saturated with want that it's dripping.

How did we get to puppy play? What?

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

This one is for a friend, whose spouse made me a bench hook. I used @canon-in-too-deep's delightful free typeset (thank youuuu!) Binder friends, if you're not already perusing and using canon's typesets, I urge you to take a look! They are so well done, beautifully laid out, and so lovely to look at.

While the book and the cover colour were both at the request of my friend, I think P&P is my favourite book in the world, so it wasn't exactly a hardship to dig into this bind. I'm very fond of my Oxford World Classics copy from my uni days, and I also own a Penguin clothbound version... but I might need to make my own someday.

I reflected already on how this started off as a cursed bind, but I'm happy to report that though the text block cuts are not perfect, the book itself came out quite well. I'm thankful I didn't give up and start over!

Process and materials as per usual under the cut.

Materials: First time using faux leather! I am still not sold -- it's just wooqu's version of the stuff, and while the colour and texture are nice, it's quite plasticky overall. But I remain uninterested in real leather, so I suppose it's good to start trying some faux options. It was a little harder to crease/turn in, and wanted more patience with my mix. But it was easy to wipe errant glue off, which was kind of a treat. Also easy to mark with a hasty fingernail, less good.

The rest is nothing new: ledger paper (24 lb Xerox) cut down to short-grain letter (badly). I sewed on tapes since this baby is 440 pages, but used waxed cotton floss because my linen thread is quite heavy and I was worried about swell. I also used a bone folder to flatten each signature around the thread as I sewed it, which helped. Basically no swell! So far so stable?

End papers are scrapbook papers. Endbands are cotton floss on leather cord (yes, I sewed them; yes, it was a weird choice for a friend who probably won't care. I wanted the practice!)

I bought the peacock cover art when I was doing an early bind (Probationary Action, I think) from a seller on Etsy. Yes, it was horrifying to weed.

Process: As mentioned above, this started out as a cursed bind, but I pulled it out of the fire pretty well by the end! I did a trial run applying HTV to the faux leather because I was worried about the heat melting the material. It didn't seem to have that issue, but the carrier sheet for the HTV left indelible impressions wherever I pressed the edges into the material. (I press with a cheap Amazon mini-press, but I don't use a huge amount of pressure.) So I decided to do a cover/spine design that would allow me to use a full sheet of HTV that ran edge to edge on each part of the cover, so I didn't have to worry about that edge marking issue. It worked!

I have tried rounding and backing spines before, but it's almost impossible to do backing well without backing boards, which in turn need a lying press or finishing press, and I'm still over here working with wrapped bricks and two cutting boards with carriage bolts and wingnuts. So I'm trying to figure out ways to avoid needing to round/back. 20-page signatures help! Lighter thread! etc etc. I did one rounded spine (a bind of Sense and Sensibility I've never shared here) and it was... okay? Without backing, rounding is mostly an aesthetic choice anyway.

I need to get my guillotine sharpened. There was a whole saga a month back with me trying to level the blade and almost slicing my fingertip off (ouch) but the result was that I had trouble putting the damn machine back together properly and the blade sat on the fence a bunch while I was figuring it out, which definitely dulled part of the blade. I'm procrastinating about getting it done because a) terrified of cutting myself again getting the blade off and b) mad at myself that my almost new guillotine already needs this service. So for now, I'm just shoving scrap paper under every text block I cut so that the dull bit of the blade is failing to cut the waste paper and not the block. Works? Annoying, but works?

See, this is the problem with a writer doing a craft, I won't goddamn shut up once I start typing.

[cherriqa]

+.*i get those goosebumps every time*.+

SUMMARY: he just cant shake the feeling that somebody knows... let alone his own wife..

NICK GOODE (1994) X FEM! READER

MASTERLIST : HERE

AUTH NOTE: aahhhdgfgy first fic!! based on the song goosebumps by Travis Scott 😍😍😍😍 (update, it’s been like 5 months since i started writing this.. i’m so sorry 😭😭🫶🫶)

"hello?" you ask, twirling the landline phone cord between your index and middle finger. "shit, sorry hun.." you notice the voice instantly, its your husband Nick. "sorry forr..?" you trail off, now curious. "um.. ill be home late again." his voice is low and laced with slight malice. "oh." is all you manage to say. you turn to look back in the dining room. your children are sitting happily at the table, eating spaghetti bowls.

"are you upset?" he questions, slightly nervous. "no! its fine.. ill put your food in the fridge then.." you mumble into the speaker. he sighs before speaking again. "listen, i gotta go but ill be back when you wake up. promise." he tries to sound as cheery as possible, but you can see right through the act. "okay, bye! i love you." you murmur with a small smile as the line clicks.

something is up, you can tell. you set the phone down before heading into the dining room and picking up your husbands plate. your daughter looks up at you, her curly pigtails bouncing as she swings her legs off the chair. “mommy… where’s daddy..?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. “baby, he’s fine.. he’s just caught up with work again.” you manage a smile. she nods before going back to eating.

about 4 hours later, you hear the door open and the familiar leather shoe footsteps. your husband in all his glory walks into the living room. “well hi there..” Nick says with a small grin. he walks over to you, sitting beside you on the sofa. “how was work..?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder. he shrugs, “boring, as per usual.” the way he says it makes you giggle. “you’re sweaty, my love.” you kiss his cheek, making him smile again.

“ouch.” he jokes, standing up again. “i’ll go have a shower then.” you nod and watch as he turns around. “and by the way, could you find me that book.. um.. the one about criminology!” he recalls, to which you respond with a small “yup!” before you too, stand up.

you hear him walk up the stairs as you reach the bookshelf. as you look around, you spot a small knob out of the corner of your eye. you try to ignore it, thinking your vision is just playing tricks on you again. that is, until a passing train nearby causes the knob to rattle. you quirk your eyebrow, setting the newly found book down on the coffee table before inspecting the round knob closer.

as you get a better look, you realise that it belongs to a trapdoor that you happen to have never noticed. ‘strange..’ you think to yourself before turning it slowly. you’d think it’d be locked, considering you’ve never noticed it in your 8 years of living in your house. but it isn’t. the door slowly creaks open and the light from inside the living room shines into the small space.

upon further inspection, you spot a few candles, all of which definitely had been lit within the last few hours considering the faint smell of candle smoke. but also another thing worth noting, the two large stones with writing etched into them. one’s been fully covered, the second having almost just been started. you can only read the last 3 lines of the second stone.

RUBY LANE

THOMAS SLATER

RYAN TORRES

you make a face, weird that the last three shady side killer names are etched into.. wait.

what..?

[greenhorn-art]

World Champions | Artwork for World Champions by TheDefenestrator by TheDefenestrator, art by Blurb_brain

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 71 944

At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up. Or, In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.

About the Book

FONTS: Mundo Serif, Azonix [dafont], Segoe UI Symbol

IMAGES: Illustration by Blurb_brain [AO3]; cover image by NASA ID: 440611 [Rawpixel]; Planet Earth background ID: 6331593 [Rawpixel]; Circuit lines background ID: 3117935 [Rawpixel]; endpapers' image by Eric Eastman [Unsplash]; Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer [The King's Avatar Wikia]

MATERIALS: regular printer paper (8.5"x11", 96 bright, 20lb), 80pt bookboard, Iris Bookcloth (colour: Black Pearl), Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", bright white, 65lb), waxed linen thread (white, 30/3 size), embroidery floss (shades 3750, 350, 3845, 370), leather cording (1.9mm diameter), Reeves’ acrylic paint (Mars Black, Phthalo Blue, Titanum White), Americana acrylic paint (glow in the dark), ph neutral pva glue (Books by Hand)

PROGRAMS USED: Typeset in Affinity Publisher, cover/title page/endpapers designed in Affinity Designer/Photo, QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, PDF arranged for printing with Bookbinder-JS

BINDING STYLE: quarto, case bound (slightly rounded, with oxford hollow, forgot to use tapes)

.

Fenes' "Glory's tech isn't handwaved" AU. This was great! Funny and creative, and I'm both amazed and full of admiration for Fenes' ability to juggle so many characters.

I was feeling excited and ambitious with this one. Tried some new fun things (double core endbands, painted edges) and used some new equipment (a lying press).

The Text

TITLE/HEADINGS FONT: Azonix says 'SciFi' to me, it's a bold, non-serif, sleek font.

BODY FONT: Mundo Serif, it's a decent serif body font I haven't used before. Felt like it worked with Azonix.

SCENE BREAKS: a special character in Segoe UI Symbol of a black & white icon of Earth, the globe showing Asia.

TYPESETTING: Finished typesetting the fic, left document open on my laptop, laptop's battery failed, file now crashes immediately upon reopening, issue persists with copied versions of file (；￣Д￣) . Thankfully I had a backup file for the typeset with the barebones of the text, so I didn't have to restart from scratch...

Title Page

My thinking: it takes place in space, the world's at stake, and it's the dawn of a new horizon for Earth. Glory and the titular champions are represented by Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer – the captains of what I'd call the 'big 5' teams. A circuitry board background element hints at the tech/mecha nature of the story's competition. It may not match Blurb's art, but I hope I was able to convey some of what the story is about.

The circuitry image is used as decoration throughout the book. I only used the avatars of the top five teams' captains because too many silhouettes would lessen their impact and readability. (Removing the backgrounds was tedious, but worth it.)

Here's what it should have looked like. The test prints for this and the BB art were fine, but I think my inkjet started running out of ink just when I printed the final copies and I didn't reprint them. (Too impatient, really wanted to finish up and read the book)

The Cover

World Champions is another Big Bang fic, and once again I based some of my design choices off of the accompanying artwork. The dominant colours of Blurb_brain's illustration are red and blue-green.

COVER PAPER: For the decorative cover material I used NASA's ASTER image of Poyang Lake. NASA has some really interesting photography some of which remind me of marbled paper, thought it could be interesting. I chose this image of Poyang Lake because 1) it's in China, 2) the colours were similar to Blurb's awesome illustration (fate strikes again, dropping matching images and artwork into my lap!), and 3) NASA is tangentially relevant to the fic, which takes place in space.

BOOKCLOTH: Verona bookcloth in the shade Black Pearl, a lovely dark navy blue colour. Thought it suited the cover paper and title page. (Bought it for this fic specifically, but the colour goes well with almost all of my decorative papers so it should see a lot of use in the future!)

Endpapers

The final decision that held this project at a standstill for two months. In the end I drew inspiration from the matchups against the final opponent in the story. The image I used is a little chaotic and a little too unrelated to identify why I picked it without an explanation, but this book is for me and I know why, so there. (Note that I played around with the colours and cropped the photo.)

Endpaper inspiration: the maps for the matches against the Infilhites

"a long bridge through an enormous tube-like hall, where light seem to come from every side through stained glass windows. It was visually confusing, limited lateral motion" "a warehouse, crates stacked on and beside metal racks that went all the way to the ceiling." "a house of mirrors, fully enclosed to be sure the Infhillte couldn’t fly out of it." "like a volcano, rivers of lava moving sluggishly down a slope, occasional vents of overheated air nearby." "a series of overlapping bridges between halls and stairways, level after level layered over an open abyss."

Trimming & Painting the Edges

Going all out, a 2-for1 deal: the opportunity to use my lying press for the first time and learn a new technique!

TRIMMING: Used a paring chisel and lying press.

CHISEL: The 1.25" wide paring chisel I used was form a modern manufacturer. (Vintage paring chisels are very thin, enough so that you can bend/flex the blade. But don't do that.) It's long and wide blade made it easier to register against the surface of the press for consistent cuts. Looks like this one below from Lee Valley.

LYING PRESS: My dad's project. Solid black walnut, hand carved screws and internal threads — he even made the tools to make the threads too! The jaws of the press are each 3 7/8" wide. It's big and heavy (though much smaller than full-sized professional ones omg), but there's enough of a flat surface to register the chisel against. A thicc boi, much like this one below from Bookbinding Supplies.

PAINTED EDGES: The idea was to have dark navy edges, speckled with white stars. I used acrylic from a tube to paint the edges — tutorials recommended it over liquid bottled acrylic, and I had an old set hanging around. Had to water it down because otherwise the paint just flaked off.

My test of trimming and painting went well. Then the trimmed book itself came out slightly crooked, the paint required significantly more watering-down than before, and the white paint did not want to be both opaque and speckle-able. Unfortunate, but still book-shaped! And now I have an idea of what to do differently next time.

Also, did not like the glow-in-the-dark paint. Looked too translucent in the light when compared to the white acrylic, and needed a thicker coat to be visible in the dark. (The thickness combined with the translucence and base colour kinda reminded me of boogers... Ended up scrapping most of it off, so there's not much left to glow.)

Endbands

Still in the mood to have fun and go all-out, I attempted double-core endbands for the first time.

TUTORIAL: YouTube @ BookbindersChronicle: Bookbinding 101 Sewing Headbands Session 2. Also watched @ DAS Bookbinding's Double-Core Endband // Adventures in Bookbinding, but I personally found Chronicle's closeup video easier to follow.

I used embroidery floss from a 100pk of assorted colours off Amazon, wrapped around a core of 1.9mm leather cording from Michaels. I drew from Blurb_brain's art for the general colours, choosing a dark base, with red, blue-green, and gold. The specific shades were picked to go with the cover.