#dustcovers

[captain-ferid]

My take on the ACOTAR covers. I also got them printed and have them as dustcovers. Head to my insta https://www.instagram.com/san_doria/ to see the result!

#acotar #acowar #acomaf #feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #high lady feyre #night court #books #dustcovers

[awidevastdominion]

#The Sandman Dustcovers #Dustcovers #Dave McKean

[slutdge]

I dont even know what object would be worthy of getting the Fish Piss sticker on it

#maybe ill put it on the dustcover of my turntable

[tasiturney]

finished my lackrack (fortified with proper wood 2x2s in the legs) so its finally in my messy room and i finally redid most of the cabling. i am ready to make more hentai music

#tasitime #i hate how fast this place gets dust #like wtf #i use clothes that cant fit me anymore as dustcovers #thats my lifehack of the day #also keyboard stands are good for holding bras #keyboards too

[rillabrooke]

one of the prettiest books in my library ❤️

#if i have a hardback it better be stunning #this one was a gift from my parents and i love it to bits #the actual hardcover is quite plain but the matching inner page and dustcover make up for it #rilla.txt

[woobie-wan]

Finally firmed up my Christmas plans.

#lotr #yeah the dustcover is banged up but it was the last one #it's got his illustrations and appendices and no amazon content whatsoever #🥰

[leatherbookmark]

made A Cover! enlisted my father for help. is it endlessly beautiful, durable or stain-proof? no, but it Is, and that's enough 4 me I think

#shrimp thoughts #it's from christmas wrapping paper lol so when i tried to see if you can put the dustcover on it i already gave it a small tear orz

[parrotias]

10 Pcs Dustproof Shoe Bags Unisex Non-woven Travel Shoe Cover

#shoecover #dustcover #travelcover #shoebags #dustproof #parrotias

[s0qn4fqvdigko]

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#vibro- #pollyfishes #stylomaxillary #embroiling #trustor #dustcover #subtended #daphnioid #making #Chinle #louis #Eurystheus #hinderance #Pleurosaurus #dug-out #acrylates #small-grained #agisting #Oscines #deltahedron

[cordedarms]

Cerakoted Laser Etched Dust covers Available in Multiple colors on the website.👀🇺🇲 #eugenestoner #armalite #dustcover #ejectionportdoor #laser #cerakote (at Corded Arms) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cf5BJ1HrOLc/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#eugenestoner #armalite #dustcover #ejectionportdoor #laser #cerakote

[shootersfaync]

Enhanced Ejection Port Cover by @magpul #shootersfaync #braggblvd #magpul #ejectionportcovers #dustcover #fay #fayettevillenc #ftbragg #fortbragg #shoplocal #shopsmall #2a (at Bragg Blvd) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdyMaXBrMs8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#shootersfaync #braggblvd #magpul #ejectionportcovers #dustcover #fay #fayettevillenc #ftbragg #fortbragg #shoplocal #shopsmall #2a

[blogkhross]

#37804-1000-00#3M#DUSTCOVER(Khross electronics co.크로스전자에서) https://www.instagram.com/p/CdIBVdppKmU/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#37804 #3m #dustcover

[wri0thesley]

thinking about poor maid reader being left to clean someone’s desk who has left rather an . . . interesting book open.

ft: albedo, lisa, ayato, yae miko. not sfw, minors dni. power dynamics, mentions of food in ayato’s. 

perhaps they’re a maid for the knights of favonius. though albedo’s workshop is off-limits to most people, his office still needs to be kept in something close to good order - and you are very careful and fastidious and smart enough to know what ought to be left where it is. ‘books that albedo has left open’ are definitely in that category; if it’s left open on a particular page, it must be because albedo is studying something in it. normally, this kind of thing would go over your head - but it’s terribly hard for the extremely detailed diagram of two people locked in sexual congress to be ignored. neither can albedo’s sketchbook, left open - the same position rendered in loving detail. the man in the sketch is quite clearly albedo - even in pencil, the line of his mouth and the sweep of his hair is unmistakeable - but the other . . . that’s a startling representation of what you would look like, naked and on your hands and knees with albedo’s fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist - of what your face would look like, thrown back in pleasure with intimately sketched beads of sweat trickling down your face, eyes hazy--

albedo comes in behind you. he’s very, very matter of fact when he opens his mouth - not an ounce of shame in him, simply a very real, very honest hunger;

“oh. you saw them. i can’t help thinking that i haven’t gotten the angle of your hips quite right. would you be willing to assist me with some hands-on experience?”

or, sticking with the thought of the knights of favonius - one of their duties as maid is to head into the library, and assist lisa in making sure all the books that have been dragged from shelves and onto tables are put back exactly where they belong. for as languid as the librarian is, she’s very particular about the books; and so, you always make sure to check the correct dustcover is on them, that no bookmark has been left unattended. you’ve also become familiar with the books that are in the ‘restricted’ section - and the one that lisa has open on her desk is most certainly for that. 

you’ve always been fascinated by her; it’s hard not to be, hearing whispers of her prowess and how she’s wasted in the library. fascination, too, rears its head in the form of how lovely she is; the glitter of her eyes and the low-cut dress and the spill of her hair, the lilting voice when she thanks you for your assistance and teasingly says what a good little helper you are. so you sneak a glance at the text - just to know what it’s about.

your face rapidly heats as you realise you’re reading what amounts to a recipe for an aphrodisiac potion; one that talks about making the intended target ‘ripe and lush for the taking’, ‘sizzling with need to be claimed in every way possible’ - one that talks about how the subject will - depending on genitalia - either find themselves dripping all over the floor in desperate need to be filled, or achingly hard in need to fill something themselves.

“there you are, cutie,” lisa’s voice is a purr, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “i made you tea.”

perhaps you’re a maid of the kamisato estate, who thoma places a particular trust in - partly because ayato has taken such a great liking to you. you’re rather in awe of the young master - he’s so elegant and fastidious and terribly handsome, and sometimes he says things to you that make him smile at you like he’s a fox circling a small rabbit. mostly, people do not clean ayato’s desk - he uses it as a hub of sorts, with people who need him clipping things amongst the pages in order to let him know whatever they need when they may not be around to speak with him - but his office still needs tending to a little.

and so does the inkwell, which he never properly empties - his various calligraphy brushes, which he never properly cleans. as a conscientous maid, you never go snooping about in ayato’s personal matters and work-related paperwork - but it would be someone with poor sight indeed who’d miss that he’d left a book open on his desk--

your eyes widen as you see the illustration; one clearly drawn for titillation above all else. the page beside it features much of the same; and it’s also very clear from context clues that this particular series of illustrations continues throughout the book, and portrays the rich young head of some clan making love to a maid, his hand over their mouth whilst he has them ride him in a luxurious office. 

flustered by the idea of someone else seeing such a lewd display, you flick the book shut. it’s not your place to write him a note, so you instead try and put the thought of ayato lusting after a maid out of your head as you go about your business. this must have been an accident.

you come in to do your little cleaning the next day to find that the book is once more in pride of place; that the page has been flipped over, to an image of the maid and young master taking a picnic in the grounds of his estate - only the maid is straddling him in his lap, with their mouth open as he hand-feeds them a strawberry dripping with cream. there’s an elegantly written note in handwriting that you recognise as ayato’s slipped between the pages. it begins . . . it begins with your name.  

‘little maid; i take it you saw my book. what do you think of it? i can always carve time in my schedule out for one as lovely as you - and there are several things within these pages i’m just dying to try out--’

your duty in the yae publishing house is simple. editors often work late into the night, writers often find themselves in the back-rooms desperately looking for some final inspiration, proof-readers and all other manner of people leave the offices of the publishing house a hideous mess - and you go in at the very end, and clean it all up for them, so nobody knows that just an hour ago the author of the most popular children’s light novel in inazuma was crying to the point of considering giving up and going to live on watatsumi island, where she already had plans to start a little farm (you didn’t tell her about the soil quality there; it’s never good, you’ve learnt, to give too much logic in these creative breakdowns). 

in stark difference, being able to slip into lady yae’s office at the end of your shift and breathe in the scent of cherry blossoms and perhaps move a book or two from her desk to her shelf, dust a few of the fox knick-knacks decorating the space, is practically a vacation. you always linger there just a little longer than you should - thinking about lady yae herself, and how lovely she is. how much you admire her. 

today, she’s left a book open with a beautifully decorated marker, a red pen in her inkwell. you can’t help but sneak a glance at what kind of book has required her attention in such detail - and as your eyes skim across the words, you feel the tips of your ears grow hot and your throat grow dry. 

the lady shrine maiden . . . her silky ears matched by her silky thighs . . . the sweet taste of honey lingering on the warrior goddess’s lips as she hungrily mouthed between the shrine maiden’s thighs . . . slender fingers twisted into inky locks . . . the tight pulsing of the maiden’s body around said goddess’s fingers as pleasurable fireworks lit off inside of her and she came with a prayer that rolled off her tongue in desperate need--

“tut tut, little one.” yae miko’s voice breaks you from your fascinated revelry, and you start guiltily to see her smiling smugly at you - as lovely as ever, and looking like the cat (fox) who has gotten the proverbial cream. “don’t you know how rude you’re being? ah. you’re in luck. as it happens, i need someone to test this on and make sure it elicits the . . . preferred response in our readership. sit.” her voice does not broker argument. “i’m going to read to you.” 

#genshin impact smut #not sfw text #lisa x reader #yae miko x reader #albedo x reader #ayato x reader #genshin impact x reader #lisa smut #yae miko smut #albedo smut #ayato smut #genshin impact posting #concept postin

[unpretty]

this omnibus is HUGE and would have actually been in really good condition if the seller hadn't inexplicably jammed it lengthways into a box that didn't quite fit and torn the dustcover

i'm kinda tempted to see if i can find someone that'll make me a custom one since this one's fucked

#original #SQUIRREL GIRL #there's gotta be someone out there that does cool customs

[werewolfnightwalker]

Author!Dabi; Part Two

Part One here!

.

Dabi pretended to forget about the book after a while. Hawks never really brought it up again, though Dabi caught him reading it every now and then.

Sometimes he called Dabi "Raven," to which Dabi replied, "Songbird," but that was it. He never confirmed or denied that it was his book, that he wrote, that contained dozens of poems that were dedicated to his hero. He didn't want to, nor did he need to, so he didn't say anything when he spotted even more books by T. T. Arrow show up on Hawks' bookshelf.

He did watch, though. Watched as the first book- Starless Night and Other Poems- was read again, and again, and again. Dabi watched the spine crack, the page corners get dog-eared, the dustcover begin to tear at the edges.

All from repeated rereads.

"Read any good books lately?" He asked Hawks casually as he saw the hero glancing at the worn tome again.

Hawks hummed, smiling to himself. "Yeah, been thinking about rereading my favorite, though."

His favorite. Not even the five stars and essay-length, raving reviews from critics gave Dabi the same warm, fluttery feeling as that simple statement.

Finally, on a rainy afternoon that had him cooped up in Hawks' apartment while the hero was napping, Dabi got up and approached the bookshelf. He tipped the book towards himself with a finger and pulled it out of its place, carrying it with both hands back to the couch.

He retook his seat and flipped it open, searching the front page for… something. A sign, maybe. A reason, an explanation as to why it was Hawks' favorite.

The pages whispered against each other as he turned to the first poem; Mountainside of Embers was the title. His eyes completely passed over the printed words, so nearly packed into their stanzas, as they zeroed in on the messy scrawls along the sides.

"I'm so sorry." It was written in Hawks' slanted, curly handwriting, next to the paragraph lamenting how hard it was to breathe with lungs full of ash.

"I would have dug you out of the ashes and carried you home." Was scribbled at the end, that compared the mountainside to a graveyard for a single child.

Dabi flipped to another poem quickly; Sleepyhead.

"I wouldn't have left your side." Hawks' pen strokes promised next to the story of a sleeping, yet lonely boy.

"And he woke alone, so alone. Second, he thought of hunger, but firstly thought of home."

The whole line was highlighted, underlined, with a scrawled note beside it: "Come home with me!"

That fluttering back in his stomach, Dabi turned the pages with trembling fingers. Poem after poem was highlighted, underlined, scribbled, and doodled by. Notes and comments filled the margins, filled Dabi's vision and chest.

He turned to the first poem he'd written for Hawks, Origami Butterflies, and quickly scanned to one of the middle stanzas:

"Take my sharp edges and fold me together. Make me something beautiful, something that lasts forever. Tuck me safe into your pocket, Into your heart, into your bag, or your locket. Cradle me in work-worn hands, Promise never to let go again."

Next to it, in red ink and in all capital letters, Hawks wrote, "I PROMISE!"

Swallowing against the tightness in his throat now, Dabi looked through a few more before he finally dared himself to look at their poem, Cage of Bone.

The first page was blank.

As was the second.

The third page, where the story of the raven and the songbird ended, only had a single note by the final stanza:

"Begging forgiveness, as towards dawn they flew, The raven sobbed, "I love you, I love you, I love you.""

The poem ended there, in black, printed ink. But the note, written in blue, added on:

"The song bird settled into raven's chest, into his cage, into his nest, And began to sing into the sunrise, "It's alright, raven, dry your eyes. I am swift, and I am strong, And it was always you who heard my song. My wings do ache, my back is sore, So I will rest with you a little more.

Don't weep, dear raven, for you see, When I'm in here, I am free. I will stay in this cage of bone, So you and I are not alone.

Be my wings, and I'll be your heart, Because from you, dear raven, I wish never to part. So you start the song, and I take my cue, To sing on for forever, "I love you, I love you, I love you, too.""

Dabi closed the book like it would fall apart in his hands, carrying back to the shelf and slotting it into its place with the reverence due a holy scripture.

Wiping the blood from his cheeks, he headed for the bedroom, to do just as his songbird, his heart, had said.

He never fully figured out why it was Hawks' favorite book. But when he looked down at his hero, asleep, his head on Dabi's chest, he realized he didn't need to.

Not when the sound of their heartbeats, the sound of their breathing, the sound of Hawks' wings fluttering and the sheets shuffling and bloody tears pattering off Dabi's chin-

Not when they made a symphony, a song, all their own, that sang more than a raven and songbird ever could.

End.

#conans writing #dabihawks #dabi #hawks #keigo takami #touya todoroki #mha dabi #toukei #mha hawks #bnha hawks #bnha dabi #long post #poetry

[leatherbookmark]

also i'm delighted to find out that the the world series is a mess in terms of packaging lol, movement was your usual atz cardboard box (square (but not the treasure square. amazing), outlaw was a book in a stiff plastic dustcover, and it seems like will's going to look like that too, because the dimensions of the photobook are the same. i guess that's nice for kq because it's probably cheaper to manufacture PLUS it definitely takes less space on the shelf, it's just that, uh, the extras can fall out of the booklet, as opposed to the box. but you can't have everything ig?

#shrimp thoughts #the colors are Interesting though! if i'm correct and the packaging is indeed a book like in outlaw's case #the metallic bits are the booklet's cover's color and the peach/dusky pink red and blue parts are the dustcover... or maybe it's the other #way 'round? HMM HMM #it's a bit of a bummer that they stopped adding lyrics cards these were fun