under glaze

how i wish the balcony scene went

Originally posted by deliriousgirl05

the awesome @skittycat21  requested a continuation of my fic, ‘what I wish they showed us after the party’ which takes place after 2x08. But chronologically, the balcony scene is what takes place after that scene so I decided to rewrite that instead according to how I wish it happened (because we can all agree that that conversation was hopeless, also they discuss the suicide attempt in that previous fic so I left it out here).


The early morning sun crept up on Brooklyn almost warily and Alec watched from Magnus’ balcony as the streets became busier and busier. Magnus cautiously made his way out to Alec, already anxious that he was anywhere near a balcony considering recent events. Standing next to Alec, Magnus weaved a hand between Alec’s arm and torso. He could already hear how hard Alec’s heart was beating.

Alec looked down at Magnus’ hand which rested on the ledge next to his and opened his palm. Magnus immediately interlaced his fingers with Alec’s and turned to rest his chin on the Shadowhunter’s shoulder. He smelt of soap and coffee, and Magnus’ heart clenched at the thought of him having to leave to the Institute soon. Alec relaxed into his boyfriend’s touch as Magnus leaned in to tenderly press a kiss to Alec’s jaw. Normally, such an action would have caused Alec to tense up, but right now it was just what he needed.

Magnus turned back to the city and leaned the side of his head on Alec’s broad shoulders. Alec closed his eyes and breathed in the calmness that Magnus brought with him. “How many Downworlders do you think live in New York?” asked Alec.

“I don’t know,” replied Magnus. “But they’re not all your responsibility.”

Alec let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and squeezed Magnus’ hand. “But you are,” said Alec in a small voice and Magnus’ heart broke.

Magnus muffled his mouth into Alec’s shoulder, smiling at the boy, and pressed a kiss there. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone so caring and loyal. Most people would have run away by now – they had run away. But Alec was so determined to hold onto any kind of feeling he hadn’t had before. And Magnus didn’t know how to deal with it. “I can take care of myself, Alexander,” replied Magnus, only half-jokingly. If there was one thing he didn’t expect from Alec, it was the boy risking his own life for him. Maybe Magnus thought he didn’t need it, or maybe he thought that he didn’t deserve it.

Alec leaned the side of his head to Magnus’. “I know, but it can’t have ever been this dark,” he whispered and Magnus realised just how scared Alec was.

Squeezing Alec’s hand tighter, Magnus could feel his heartbeat increasing. He wasn’t talking enough. And after the incident at the party, that was one of the most dangerous things Alec could do right now. “Talk to me, Alexander.”

Alec clenched his jaw and bore an expression that Magnus hadn’t seen on the boy before. Magnus could feel Alec’s hand becoming sweaty as he repeatedly shook his head and took several steps back, releasing their hands. “I can’t, I… I don’t know how,” stated Alec, breathing hard and swallowing air.

Although some would argue against it, Alec had naturally been a very anxious person. He was just extremely good at hiding it. Alec was never relaxed, not until he met Magnus. Whenever he was around the man, Magnus balanced him.

It became clear to Magnus that Alec had never really had someone that he allowed himself to be vulnerable around, nobody to be able to get his anxious thoughts out on. He made sure to be the most composed around Izzy and Max, in desperate need to prove that he could always protect them, that he was the level-headed one. And he just felt downright embarrassed to bring up the issue with Jace or his parents.

“Hey, hey, hey…” said Magnus, reaching a hand out to place it on Alec’s tense back. He began to stroke the base of Alec’s neck but it only appeared to make Alec more uneasy. He abruptly turned away from Magnus’ touch to which Magnus recoiled his hand. A look of immense worry took over his face.

“There’s so much at stake here and I…” Alec pulled at the collar of his shirt in an attempt to ease himself. “I can’t breathe,” he choked out helplessly and Magnus felt his stomach churn.

Alec stumbled back onto the armrest of the outdoor bench, too preoccupied to take a proper seat. Magnus stood in front of him, reaching out to Alec’s shoulder and pulling his head into his chest. “I’ve got you, you’re alright,” he said in a soft tone, stroking the boy’s back. “You’re okay,” he continued, fingers moving to run through Alec’s hair as he pressed reassuring kisses onto the top of Alec’s head.

Alec coiled his arms around Magnus tightly, breathing in every bit of him, making sure that he was still here. Alec hated feeling so weak, he was supposed to be the collected one. He felt like he had no right to be in this emotional state now. His life wasn’t at threat, after all. But Magnus made him feel comfortable enough to be in this state unapologetically.

Alec felt Magnus’ fingers tingling against his scalp and didn’t protest when streams of magic helped calm him down. “I’m sorry,” Alec murmured and Magnus frowned. “I know I’m meant to be strong right now-”

“Don’t apologise,” said Magnus firmly. “Look at me.” Magnus lifted Alec’s chin up. “I’ll be honest, there’s not much that I can reassure you of right now. But if there’s one thing that rings true, it’s that we’re going to be okay.”

Alec’s eyes darted between Magnus’ eyes and mouth. He was so close. “You don’t know that.”

“Maybe I don’t. But I’m here, now, whatever you need,” Magnus said, stroking the spot under Alec’s glazed eye.

Alec knew he was falling in love – fast – and yet, it was the most calming thing in the world.


i hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think! if you have any prompts or scenarios for me, please head over to my ask box.

in the meantime, magnus takes alec on his first beach trip.

anonymous asked:

Hi sweetie! Could you please do an Arthur/reader fic where the reader has always been in love with Arthur but he has always just seen her as a friend at the most but when Gwen gets banished from Camelot they get closer to each other and she starts hoping. So when Gwen comes back she thinks all is lost again, but then overhears Arthur tell Gwen that it's over between them, and he wants to marry someone else. And then romantic fluffy, kissing end?

Hey sunshine,

Here is your request. I hope it’s good enough. And it ended up being REALLY long.

Name: She is not ‘the one’

“How are you doing, your Highness?” you ask Arthur, entering his chambers and closing the door behind you.

“M?” Arthur turns to you, his eyes totally absent.

“How are you, Arthur?” you ask more sincerely, sitting down by his side and looking him in the eye.

“Father banished Gwen from Camelot,” slowly repeats Arthur, and you take his hand, trying to show your support. “Because of me.”

“I am so sorry,” you whisper, as he squeezes your palm in his, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Can I help you somehow?” he shakes his head, so you just pull him up, taking the matters in your hands. “Come on, your Highness. We are going horse riding!” Arthur sighs and obediently follows you downstairs. You get on the two prepared horses (you will definitely have to apologize for using Lancelot’s horse, because you are pretty sure this beauty if his). You hurry out of the castle, knowing that the longer Arthur remains in the place that reminds him of Gwen, the longer he will suffer.

The moment you enter the forest, Arthur gets at least a little bit alive, as he speeds up and gets closer to you, breathing calmly and deeply.

“Where are we going?” he asks finally, when you notice that he stopped frowning.

“Just to a field,” you avoid the direct answer, hoping that he will like your little field that you found at some point and have been hiding it from everyone. “We are almost there.”

“If you want to kill the Prince of Camelot, I would think twice if I were you,” Arthur notices, as you lead him through possibly the darkest part of the forest, not paying attention to sharp branches and half-dead trees.

“Are you afraid, your Highness?” you ask him, trying to hide a smile, but he gets it and tries to reach out for you and grab your hand, but simply falls of his horse. “Wow. And that is our future and only King,” you sigh, shaking your head. “We are so doomed.”

“That never happened,” Arthur mumbles, as he jumps back on the back of his horse and silently follows you, hating you every time you giggle, recalling his face at the moment of the fall. “Stop giggling.”

“Stop giving me the reasons to,” he would have answered, but you finally get to your field, so you jump off the horse and look at Arthur. “Come on, it’s totally safe here.”

“It’s… It’s so beautiful,” you are pretty sure that now he should say that Gwen would like to visit this place, but he doesn’t mention her. “How did you find it?”

“Just wandering around a forest… I got lost,” you give up your secret, and Arthur grins. “Yeah, and you fell off a horse.”

“Touché,” Arthur smiles and looks around, then looks you in the eye, as you are standing in front of him, waiting for the decision that he is about to make. “Thank you. I think this place must be important for you… I guess…”

“Well, you need some happiness, don’t you?” you smile, and he leans forward, talking with the loud whisper.

“I got you for that, Y/N,” you blush so much, you think your cheeks will actually burn, but, thank Lord, Arthur is not looking at you, but simply enjoys the nature around him. He lays down and stares at the blue sky, looking like he wants to discuss something. “Y/N?”

“Yes, your Highness?” he grins and pats the grass next to him, asking you sit down next to him.

“Y/N, have you ever been in love?” you choke on the air, then pull yourself together and nod. “Oh… I didn’t know… I mean… Are you together with the person?”

“No, sire. His heart is definitely not turned towards me,” he nods sadly.

“How do you feel about it?”

“Sad,” you answer quickly. “But we are friends, so I get… I get some of the communication, Sire.”

“Should I also feel sad about Gwen not being here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel guilty. Guilty, not sad. I want to bring her back, but only because I feel like I owe her that,” Arthur sighs. “Is that how I should feel?”

“Sire, you know that I am not the best advisor on the love life,” you smile. “But… I guess no.”

“So do I, Y/N, so do I,” Arthur closes his eyes and slowly breathes. “May I come here again?”

“Of course, your Highness! How could I stop you?”

“It’s still your place. And I may need you to show it to me again,” you smile and nod. “You are a great person, Y/N. I hope this person you love will understand that.”

“How ironic,” you mumble, but nod again, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to slip in a quiet nap, just to wake up under the calm glaze of Arthur, as he keeps staring at you, thinking about something else. He bites on a small branch, smiling at his thoughts, not taking his eyes off you. “Your Highness?”

“Yes, Y/N? Right… We have to get back to the castle,” he helps you up, not talking much before you approach the castle and slow down. “Thank you, Y/N…”

“You are welcome, your Highness,” you really want to ask why he is acting so weird, but Arthur does not act like himself, staring in front of himself and not really paying attention to the surroundings. As soon as you reach the castle, he almost runs away, yelling at Merlin for something totally not important. However, you both get new habit of going to your field at least one in two days. Always together, even though he knows the route perfectly well. Always alone, even though Merlin really wants to tag along.


“Y/N!” you run into Arthur in the middle of the castle, literally walking into each other, so you almost fall down, as you both were moving quite quickly.

“Your Highness!” he catches you, holding you close and definitely not understanding how you look - Prince holding you close and not willing to let go. “Your Highness?”

“Right. Apologies,” he takes a step back and smiles at you. “Are you free now?”

“Uhm… I guess…”

“Would you accompany me to the forest?” he asks, bowing, as if acting.

“Why wouldn’t I, Sire?” you smile back and make a curtsy, and you both grin like idiots.

“Arthur?” you slowly turn around and face Gwen, standing in the middle of the hall.

“Gwen?” you take a step back, thinking that Arthur may want to run towards her and hug the brains out of her, but Arthur freezes, still bowing.

“Gwen… Uhm… Hello.”

“How are you?” you ask her, giving Arthur time to get used to her presence.

“His Majesty let me return to the castle,” she shines a smile at you, then looks at Arthur.

“Gwen. We have to talk,” abruptly states Arthur, pulling her out of the hall and totally ignoring you. You sigh and turn around to head back to your room, expecting those two to start spending every hour together from now on. However, instead of leaving, you sit down by the door, honestly doing your best not to cry or show how hurt you are. At the end, they are not supposed to be talking right now, are they? Yet they do. “Gwen, I am so sorry… We can’t do that.”

“Why not? The king let me back.”

“That’s… That is because he learned that I intend to marry someone else. Someone he approves of.”

“But you do not love her, do you?” Gwen sounds like she is smiling at him.

“I do,” Arthur whispers. “She is… I just hope she will learn to love me.”

“You hope? Arthur, I went through so much because of your… your affair with me?” you frown - Gwen sounds really upset and full of rage.

“I am sorry, Gwen.”

“And you throw me away because of the girl you are not even sure is she loves you back?”

“Gwen… I have to hope. Because she is… Part of me,” you sigh and stand up, leaving before you would hear the name of the lucky girl. As almost reach your room, Arthur catches up with you. “Y/N!”

“Your Highness?” you turn around and bow, remembering that you should act like you never heard what happened there.

“Y/N,” he look you in the eye, then takes a step closer and rests both hands on your shoulders. “I need your help.”

“Yes, your Highness?”

“I need to tell a girl that I love her, but she is in love with someone else.”

“Gwen is…”

“It’s not Gwen… Gwen is not the one,” he answers quietly. “Please, Y/N?”

“Just tell her what you fell,” you shrug your shoulders. “Any girl would die to get your attention, so you shouldn’t really worry.”

“Any, but the one I actually need,” he smiles sadly, then grins nervously. “I have another plan. Y/N,” you look at him. “I love you,” you choke on the air, but Arthur keeps looking you in the eye.

“She will definitely fall for that,” you nod, not ready to believe that he actually means it. Arthurs sighs, resting one hand on your waist and slowly pulling you closer, until you are too close to him.

“I hope,”he gently presses his lips against yours, raising one hand to hold your head. You freeze, staring at his face, then actually realize that you are not dreaming, so you slowly kiss him back, resting your hands on his shoulders, as Arthur pulls you even closer, trying to make sure that you are literally absorbed by him, but has to let go at some point.

“Uhm,” you blush, as he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Yes?”

“That is…”

“If you say that it is wrong, I promise I will change laws of Camelot,” Arthur smiles, but you know that he actually may. Just to show that he can. So you just shake your head and lean forward to kiss him again. “What a brilliant choice.”

kareverie2-deactivated20170706  asked:

omg..."you'll get my cock when you earn it" with Hoseok, please? Thank you~!! You're the best!! :')

03. “You’ll get my cock when you earn it.” This got seriously filthy.


The harsh bite of kitchen tiles pressed uncomfortably onto your knees, the skin now a blotchy red from so many drawn out minutes in the same spot, staring up into blown pupils and cloudy irises.

You were a mess, hands secured together behind your back with the thickness of his leather belt, wrists overlapping one another. You watched with a hungry gaze as he stroked himself, hand pumping his cock leisurely in front of your face, tempting you. 

But you weren’t allowed to touch. His rule, not yours.

Hoseok liked to punish you, loved to carry out your torture until there were tears in your eyes as you begged him for anything at all. You couldn’t even remember what you’d done wrong in the first place, only that he was denying you from tasting him like you so desperately needed to.

Your mouth watered at the sight, his cock long and thick, vein running up the underside to wrap around, swollen red and ready for your mouth. You let out a pathetic whimper, scooting closer to him on your knees.

“Fuck, let me taste you baby. Come on.”

Hoseok loved how completely gone you became under his movements, eyes glazed over with lust, lips swollen and wet and begging for him, just how he preferred.

“You’ll get my cock when you earn it.” 

He smirked, ran his thumb over the tip of his dick and held back a breathy moan that threatened to spill. He fucked into is hand, hips shallowly thrusting into the tight grip of his palm. All it would take is you leaning in a couple inches, and then he’d be in your mouth, but you knew you’d get nothing if you carried out that plan.

No, you were stuck and completely at his mercy.

Hoseok looked down at you, your body adorning one of his shirts, nothing underneath, hair fanning around your face and muscles tense. You looked completely fuckable, and soon his hips were stilling and he was furiously stroking his cock before you, no intentions of letting you touch him from the beginning.

“Hobi, please.”

He slapped your cheek with the head of his cock, groaning at the way your lips immediately parted for him invitingly, and the fall of your face as you were denied of him once again.

“No.” 

You pouted at him, eyes intently watching the hand swiftly move over his member in quick drawn out strokes, wrist twisting after each one delivered as he teased the swollen tip. You whined, pleaded, but he was relentless in making you suffer and reaching his own end.

Fuck.”

It only took half a dozen more pumps to his cock and an equal amount of his name rolling off your tongue for him to find his high, a guttural groan echoing throughout the kitchen as he painted your cheeks, nose, chin, and even the corner of your lips in white, which you greedily let your tongue lick up almost instantaneously.

You watched him catch his breath, bare chest glistening with sweat and flushed red, jeans still pooled around the top of his thighs and an ever growing smirk lighting up his blissed out face.

“Now, say you’re sorry.”

10

From start to finish on my sculpture, “It Doesn’t Go Away”. I will post a more formal photo of the sculpture in its entirety soon.

The premise of this project was to find a contemporary artist to create a piece inspired by. I chose SF artist Jeremy Fish, and his Silly Pink Bunnies statue. I tried to imitate the overall shape of the piece, incorporating the pink tones into the white rabbit, and incorporating the skull as her body morphs into skeleton.

This shows the process from inspiration, concept, sculpting, multiple layers of under glazing, and then the final glaze. The final piece will incorporate a candle inside. Viewers can choose to let the candle burn out, or continually replace the flame inside her.

These two will be the death of me. 

A #MiraculousLadyBug fanfic I was following updated its final chapter! I couldn’t resist making a fan art of a specific (AND VERY CUTE) scene. Also, ADRIEN AGRESTE WEARING GLASSES OH GOHDS I LOVE THIS ADORKABLE DORK. 

+++++++

I love this fanfic, and I have a really soft spot for brilliantly written and well-researched stories that not only tickle my intellect but gosh darn, I had a flurry of emotions while reading it and even made me cry at 4 in the morning. The headcanons were brilliant and the comedy, gold. You’ll love it. 

+++++++

Original Fanfic by KryallaOrchid 

There are two stories (Part 1: Obsession and Part 2: Glaze) under the series titled “Tendencies”. This fan art was born from the final chapter of “Glaze”. The fanfics are found in AO3. 


Link to the series: http://archiveofourown.org/series/377329

Conversation prompts
  • “No, I don’t need to see the dead bird you found.” “But we’re going in to the exam in five minutes and I’m not sure it’ll still be there!”
  • “Hey, can I sit with you and use some of those under glazes? My piece needs some of-” “No, I spent $125 on all those palates for myself, thank you.”
  • “You know, you can foster a cat if you like them so much.” “I’d much rather adopt them but my dorm’s wing doesn’t allow pets.”
  • “You can’t hide that snake from the RA forever, they’re not allowed in the pet wing.” “If you tell on him, I’ll tell that you brought a fox and not a shiba inu puppy.”
  • “Can you not keep leaving love notes in all the books at my store? I have to take them out before they get sold. They’re cute though.” “You think they’re cute?”
  • “I know I hired you to walk my dog, but you never told me you were entering them in agility competitions.” “They’re going to states, you can thank me later.”
  • “You’re the only other person under 70 at this driving class. I just wanted money off my insurance, not a day of grandchild stories. Sit with me.” “We’ve got an hour for lunch, want to go to my house? It’s right down the block.”
The Signs As Fire

ARIES - What passion, what sheer power. You are a timber fire rolling down the hills of an erupting volcano, an underground petrol source sparked to conflagration by a falling grain of flint, a hell-wrought onslaught of carnage and devastation. Nothing stops you: nothing can. The sounds of the earth are muted before your roaring, the scents wicked out under your pungent soot and fierce cinders, the colors of the world fade away to an ashen black. You remake the world as it should be: flinders, char, and a memory of light.

TAURUS - You are steady, inextinguishable. Your scope is not impressive, no, but is that all? What you lack in sheer power, sheer magnitude, you make up for in reliability. Constancy and perseverance. You are a Bunsen burner set within thousandths of a degree under the most precious of metals; you are an inimitably miniscule arc of light welding together seams that go on to withstand thousands of tons of steel; you are the red-hot filament of fire that burns in an airless bulb, throwing your life-heat onto the papers of a man who struggles desperately to illustrate what lurks in the depths of his heart. Yours is a different kind of power, a different kind of strength.

GEMINI - Gleefully, you dance, not afraid of the wind or the sea. You are the little spritz of light that skips along the lengths of a dying campfire, you are the wistful tossing of a lit candle in a gentle breeze, you are the bold embers that sit on the driftwood of an old king’s sea-funeral pyre. Yet you are also the careless cigarette butt tossed into the dry leaves at the edge of yesterday’s forest, the charred handful of pizza rolls resting in the overlooked oven, standing alone in what remains of last week’s home. It matters not where you burn, only that there is air to breathe and kindling to seize.

CANCER - Sweetness is the key. A fire that gives is a fire that lives. To those who fuel you, rejoice, for yours is a flame that burns loyal. You are a lit candle in a caliginous crypt, guiding men of scripture who seek only to pray, barring demons from their path. You are the fiery light thrown off the brazier of a great lantern in the tallest of towers, guiding light to seafaring eyes and warning them off the rocky coast. But you are timid and mulish, afraid of the unknown, so you too are a flame that hesitates to spread. You would rather whiff out in a dainty puff of smoke than torch the unfamiliar.

LEO - Not entirely flame, yet more so for it; you sear from feelings of flame. You are the starry reflection of a bonfire in all its audience’s wide-eyed gaping faces. You are the breathtaking cacophony of a synapse network firing off in tandem when confessing everything to a first love; you are a mawkish warmth seeping into gelid axe-calloused hands, having returned home to a fire from the icy reaches of a Scandinavian wilderness. You are both love and its lovers. You are both the fire and the feat, both the friction and its heat.

VIRGO - Your attention to precision is unbounded. You are fire at its most quintessential, at its most critical. You live in the infinitesimal spaces between atoms, where little blips of heat and radioactive activity register as the faintest forms of the language of the universe. There, you dabble with elemental bonds, rupturing and fusing together the building blocks of the universe. There, you compound and compound, until everything else stands not only before you, but altogether of you. And you are brutally inflexible, for the rules are the rules, and so too should the universe be only the universe. A stoic flame knows no mercy, knows no exceptions.

LIBRA - There is pride in the blaze. You live in the lit lanterns hanging by the dozens along trails in the dark woods, you are the rows of slowly crackling braziers before the palaces of the world’s greatest minds. You are the bright noon light burning through an open oculus to land ablaze on the floor of an empire’s greatest library. You are the little fire in the heart that wails for its own Ozymandian epic. And yet, you too are the heartless flames of a plundered village, the flames dancing along the water next to sinking sparked-up oil tankers, and the arrogant arsons sparked by narrow-minded bigots.

SCORPIO - Nothing is important except what burns, and how. You are lit with determination, with a goal. Creme brulee caramelizes to a succulent glaze under your touch, spat from a butane torch. An intricate contraption balances counterweights and dials underneath a metal basin, and sparks you upon the propane spout to heat the water that soon soothes a home’s battered achey bones. You dance along the head of a falling match, spread onto petrol-dampened concrete, and forge fire along a trail that combusts in ecstacy within the fuel-soaked house of an unfaithful lover. You are arrantly unyielding; you are the fire that finishes.

SAGITTARIUS - Who needs an audience? Only you can truly appreciate your own doings. You are the unchecked flames scorching along the surface of an underground methane field, torching forever at the center of Karakum’s crater of fire. You are a star, billions of trillions of light-years away in the infinite expanse of the universe, expelling your light upon the heavens simply because you can. You are white lightning shining upon an empty field of Kansas wheat, you are hot coals kicked under the cold beach sands, condemned to forlorn eternity. You blaze alone, you blaze freely, and when you can, you blaze forever.

CAPRICORN - Mark the occasion! You don’t burn at just any old two-bit bonfire. A lucky little girl blows out one of your little lights for every year she’s lived. An old rust-blasted engine is hoisted back into a truck for its first ride in twenty years, and upon ignition you saunter behind its racing pistons to lap up every single drop of petrol. You crouch eagerly on the end of a branding pole, awaiting the searing touch of an animal’s uncharred sarcoline hide. You burn to commemorate these moments, but fade to obscurity as the novelty withers with you.

AQUARIUS - You resist your end at every avenue. You are a vengeful flame, bitter at the world who would come to extinguish you, and learn only to reject the ephemeral life you live. A pot brimming with cooking oil on the stove ignites your hatred, and you hope, oh so desperately hope for a bit of water poured over you to blast yourself into the sky. You are the sparks of light that kindle upon a little pyramid of sticks under the dripping bough of a tree, giving warmth and light to a little girl lost in the rain, who desperately hoped she’d remember how to find you when the time came. You are a non-negotiable flame, only content to burn on your own terms, for better or for worse.

PISCES - You forget yourself too often. You are the flame that burns along the corner of an unwanted diary, but quickly settles into a steady blue tinge; you are not hungry for the pages, or… anything at all, for that matter. You are the dud match that lights up far too hot and far too quickly, useless but to burn the fingertip. And oh, how shy you are, but what you truly wish for is to express yourself. You can be the verdant green flame lit off a sluice of boric acid, or the dazzling white sparks showering off an ignited magnalium alloy sparkler. But you find yourself in all these odd places, all these curios of fire, that your shame struggles along with you to find a place where you can just plop down and burn content.