#wait for it whenever i can get myself to a craft store!

[heymrspatel]

@gallacrafts theme 17: wearable crafts 👕

[justmeinadaze]

Yin & Yang (Steddie X You)

A/N: This post got me feeling some kind of way🫠 .

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s)

SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, male masturbation, fingering, talks of sharing (duh), slight innocence kink (if you squint; she's new to the dynamic), ANGST, reader deals with a rude customer and Eddie saves the day. A fight between Eddie and Y/N are mentioned.

Word Count: 4838

Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

Everyone always said Edward Munson was a rude, pretentious asshole. News outlets, websites, social media; everyone who met him briefly or not at all expressed a particular distain for him that you always found amusing when the topic came up. 

Visually, he did seem a bit aloof whenever the businessman did any kind of interview or was asked any kind of question. It was always a bit odd seeing a music producer get so much attention especially one who focused on the heavy metal scene but everyone who hated him also tended to agree that he was a genius at the craft. 

The bands he signed and prompted always hit high numbers on their respective charts making him and them a ton of extra money in the process. 

Anything you read or heard you skimmed past mostly because that wasn’t exactly your scene nor did you know anything when it came to what goes on the background of the music industry. Working at a coffee shop wasn’t extravagant or lucrative but it got you through till you could figure what actually was your scene and go from there. 

That’s how you met him. 

On a particularly rough shift, a man was screaming at you about an order that you supposedly got wrong as you tried to control the tears from spilling down your face. 

“How stupid are you?! It’s coffee not a fucking math equation. You just put the right liquid in the right cup and fucking hand it to me! It’s not that hard! Fucking moron.”

“Excuse me.” The man turned just as the handsome gentleman who addressed him hung up his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I understand you’re a bit stressed but I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the young lady. It’s not her fault and she’s doing her best.”

“Pfft. Fuck off, douchebag. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It actually does because you couldn’t handle this situation in a quiet calm manner. You’re ruining everyone’s morning including mine. Now…either take the coffee she’s giving you or wait for her to make a new one patiently.”

The man’s fist flew but the gentleman moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist, and twisting it as he forced the man to kneel before him. 

“Ok. If this is the way you want to do this, that’s fine. Sweetheart…” When he addressed you, you immediately stood at attention ready to die for this man if he asked after what he had just done. “Can you hand me that cup there? Thank you.”, he praises, flashing you a small smile that makes you giddy. “Now, apologize to the young lady.”

“Ow, I’m sorry!”, the man cringes when his wrist is twisted a bit more. 

“Good. Take this coffee and get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you here again I won’t be so nice.”

Disregarding the Styrofoam in the gentleman’s hand, the rude customer quickly gets to his feet before running out of the store. Sighing, your hero places the coffee in front of you.

“Thank you…for defending me… He was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, he was. It’s not your fault he didn’t order the correct thing. I can be an asshole myself but I know when and where to use it.” When you giggled, his beautiful eyes scan you over as if trying to get a read on you with the little information in front of him. 

“Are you, um, are you Edward?”, you ask as you slide him the coffee with the name scrawled across. 

Again, he glances you over and later on you would learn he was looking for recognition. Everyone he interacted with knew his name and who he was. You were the first person in years who seemed to regard him as just another stranger which fascinated him.

“I am but you can call me Eddie. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh. Um, we’re friends?”

“For now, but I’d like to be more whenever you’re open to it.”

Another smile stretched across his face when he noticed your own turn bright red as you blushed. 

“You don’t even know my name.”

Coyly, he leans his elbows on to your counter as his eyes stare at your chest. At first you feel self-conscious before you realize he’s looking at your name tag and you let out a tiny laugh to break the tension.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little.”

“Honest. I like that. How about this. I can pick you up after your shift today and we can start with dinner and go from there.”

“I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“That’s ok. I think you look perfect as is and I promise when I come get you I won’t be dressed as formal.”

“O-Ok, Eddie.”

“Good. Good girl. I’ll see you tonight.”

That evening, he showed up right as the shop was about to close and when you told him it would be a few more minutes, he nodded as he patiently waited by the front door. You occasionally snuck glances at him as he browsed his phone. True to his word, he wore jeans and sneakers with a nice white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. With how he looked this morning, you imagined for him this was dressed pretty down. While his hair was slicked back when you last saw him, now his waves seemed to have a mind of their own making him seem less intimidating and quite adorable. 

Eddie asked you so many different questions about yourself, silently listening as you both ate at the restaurant he took you to. You learned fairly quickly, while he seemed like a man of few words, his body language spoke loudly. His chocolate eyes never left yours as he hung on each and every word you spoke. When you said something he found even remotely funny, his lips would flicker into a slight smirk before returning to their proper alignment. When your drink ran low, his finger would raise and a waiter would promptly run your way with a refill and as the night progressed you found his leg leaning against yours with a little sigh escaping his chest when you didn’t shy away. 

“I feel kind of selfish. I’ve been talking about myself a lot but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s a nice reprieve. Everyone I run into knows me and my perceived reputation so to finally meet someone who doesn’t know me is a breath of fresh air.”

“Reputation…”, you repeated the word apprehensively. 

“Um, I’m kind of known as being a jerk.”

“You don’t seem like that to me.”

Eddie smiled so wide this time that his teeth came into view and you knew at that moment you’d do whatever it took to see him smile like that as much as possible. 

“Thank you for that. I can be when I need to be. In my line of work people tend to take advantage pretty early on and I wanted this industry to know I’m not someone to fuck with.”

“Do you make movies or?”

“Music. I’m a music producer for some heavy metal bands.”

“Oh wow! That’s so amazing. I would love to know more! Did you use to play?”

When he finally began to open up, hours passed like minutes and you were so entranced that you didn’t even realize the restaurant was getting ready to close. 

Eddie told you at one point he was in a band but hated the way they were cast aside for being “to generic” and “stuck in the past” so he took matters into his own hands. He bought a building and turned it into a label where he could help produce his friend’s music. He learned everything he could about production and managing, getting everything together, and essentially put Corroded Coffin on the map. 

He found that he actually loved working behind the scenes and stuck with it from that point forward. Now he’s a well-respected name in his field earning triple what he would have made as a guitarist. 

“What’s the name of the label you first opened?”

“Franklin Production; my mother’s maiden name. It seemed right because her money bought the building and she always loved music. She died when I was young.”

When his head hung, your heart broke. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

His mood changed in the blink of an eye as he breathily chuckled and glanced at his watch. 

“Shit, Y/N, it’s almost 1am. You have to be exhausted after your long shift today. Let me pay for our meal here and then I can take you home.”

“We’ve ordered so much food and drinks. Please let me help pay.” He paused at your comment then as his eyes met your now confused ones. “What?”

“I’ve only met one person who ever offered something like you just did and that man is my best friend.”

“I mean…it’s rude…isn’t it? It’s not fair for me to expect you to pay for everything.”

“Fuck me, baby.” Your eyelids visibly flutter at the term of endearment; coming out of his mouth with a sultry husk that made you swoon. “You’re really something special. I appreciate the offer but when you’re with me, honey, I can take care of you. It’s my pleasure quite honestly.”

You watched him pay the waiter and leave him way more than 15% before Eddie grabs your hand, leading you back to his car. 

That night he dropped you off at your apartment continuing to be the perfect gentleman as he walked you to your door and kept his hands behind his back as you slowly turned your key. Before you entered, however, you paused and hastily turned to plant a small kiss on his lips. Without waiting for a retort, you want inside and shut your door with a little giggle, watching through the peephole to see what he’d do. 

Eddie’s fingers softly brushed against his mouth as he grinned the way you enjoyed at the restaurant. 

***

You had been together now for a few months and you loved him with every fiber of your being. Eddie was extremely protective over you insisting you quit your job and move in with him. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you being somewhere where some fucker can belittle you and make you feel like trash. I can take care of you till you find a new job that makes you happy and people treat you with the respect you deserve.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking; I’m offering.”, he cooed as his hands cupped your cheeks. “You know how much Daddy loves looking after his pretty girl.”

The first time he called himself Daddy, you blushed and hid behind your hands making him smile as he chuckled low in his throat. 

“Have you ever called a man Daddy before?” When you giggle and curl tighter into your body, he climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you to his side. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Can I show you something?”

Eddie grins when you drop your palms and show him your beautiful face. 

“Good girl.”, he praises as he takes ahold of your hand and kisses the back of it. With his eyes locked on yours, he gradually places it on the bulge in his slacks. “You feel that? Do you feel how hard I am just from being around you as is? You don’t have to do or say anything you don’t want to, princess. I’ll still be here and I’ll still want to fuck you till you can barely move.”

A smile twitched on his lips when your breathing stuttered. 

“I-I-I’ve never called anyone Daddy before or done anything that’s not…”

“Vanilla?”, he helped when your sentence stalled. “Vanilla’s ok to. Definitely a delicious flavor that can’t be disregarded. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

Eddie leans in till his mouth is just hovering over the shell of your ear. 

“The fact that you’re so nervous and innocent to all this really fucking turns me on.”

When his cock strains a bit more against the fabric and pushes back against your hand, you can’t help but release a little whine as you push your thighs together. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Got a bit of an ache between your legs?”

“Yes.”, you breath out heavily as his palm ghosts up your thigh and his lips tenderly peck along your neck. 

“I can help with that if you want.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, please.”

Now, you were more than comfortable especially since he was always so patient with you when it came to almost everything. Unlike your past relationships, you were genuinely surprised at how little the two of you fought if at all. Eddie was a force in his business but when you two were together he was always as accommodating as possible. The one time you ever saw his anger directed towards you was when you forgot your phone when you went on a girl’s night out with your friends. 

When you came home at 2 in the morning, he was waiting in the living room and pacing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Y/N! I’ve been worried sick! You forgot your phone. What if something happened to you and you couldn’t reach me!?”

“Eddie, it’s ok! I just forgot it. I promise I’ll do better next time—”

“That’s not the point! What if there hadn’t been a next time!? I’m responsible for you!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!! I’m sorry!!”

“You watch that fucking tone with me, little girl!”

“Oh yeah. Or what?!”

When the glass in his hand shattered into the wall behind you everything became abruptly silent. Tears stung your eyes as you grabbed the little trashcan nearby and scooted towards the mess, sinking to your knees as you collect the pieces. 

“Y/N, baby. No. No, no. Let me clean this, please.”, Eddie begged, his tone much softer than before as he kneeled beside you. 

When he tried to take the sharp items from your grasp, you angrily pulled away from him. 

“I didn’t mean to forget my phone. It was an honest mistake and you had no right screaming at me like you just did!”

“I know. You’re right, sweetheart. You are absolutely right. I just… fuck… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much and the idea of something happening to you or you getting hurt just terrifies me. I shouldn’t have reacted this way.”

Blinking up at him, your hand reaches for his own. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, Y/N, of course. Since I met you behind that coffee counter.”

After tackling him excitedly, you beamed as you kissed his lips. 

“I love you to.”

People on the outside didn’t seem to understand why you were with him but they didn’t know him the way you did. Eddie was sweet, funny, and incredibly kind despite his hardened outer exterior. According to the man himself, the only other person who understood him the same way you did was a man you had yet to meet. 

#############

Steven Harrington was a name you knew solely due to his reputation in media. 

He was always portrayed as just another trust fund baby who was utilizing daddy’s money to do whatever he wanted. He got in trouble constantly but brushed it off with a sexy smile and a calm demeanor that made even the biggest skeptic want to trust him.

The first time Eddie mentioned him by name was after you noticed him watching one of Steve’s interviews. 

“Fucking idiot.”, he chuckled light-heartedly, turning the screen of his phone so you could watch to when you climbed into bed beside him. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Steve Harrington has been my best friend for years.”

“This is your best friend?”

When he nods, you focus on the interview in front of you.

“No, no. Trust me, that company would be crazy to sell right now in this economy. Once things bounce back it will be worth way more than it is now. Then again…if they sell I could buy it and turn it into a hotel or some s***. Go ahead than! Sell that f***er!”, he laughs making you giggle as well when his nose scrunches adorably. 

“Steve is actually a very clever business guy. People constantly underestimate him because he acts like a playboy.”

“So…he’s the yin to your yang?”

Eddie smirks down at you before kissing your forehead. 

“You could say that.”

The more your boyfriend told you about him the more you wanted to meet him. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about this person and as his girlfriend you wanted him to get to know him as well. The first time you spoke to him was after you moved in with Ed and he called to congratulate you both. 

“Hey! Are you Y/N?”

“I am.”, you grin. 

“Oh good. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. ‘EDDIE! Some random pretty girl is in your place!’”, Steve laughed. 

“Pft. How do you know I’m pretty?”

“Because a sexy voice like yours must be inside a beautiful woman. I’m kind of jealous.”

He said it so smoothly that if you weren’t already sitting you’re sure his words would have knocked you off your feet. Your eyes glanced towards Eddie who was watching you from his spot on the couch. 

“Uh oh. Did I lose you, honey? Sorry. Sometimes I come on a bit too strong.”

“No, no. It’s ok. You just… you remind me of him.”, you exhale as you get up and walk towards your boyfriend. 

“Of who? Of Eddie? I take that as a compliment. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah he is but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Oh? Well then use your words, pretty girl. Who do I remind you of? I’m DYING to know.”

Eddie softly smirks as he watches your breathing stagger the same way it does when you’re intimidated by something. His ring covered fingers gently trace down your arm making you shiver. 

“Tell me.”

The two words that followed came out as a strong command that told you to obey. The contradiction of how he spoke now to how he had before made you dizzy and you desperately wanted more. 

“Daddy.”

After tossing the phone next to Eddie, you covered your face with your palms and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, the man you loved climbed into bed beside you and collected you into his arms. 

“Talk to me, baby. Remember, no matter what there’s nothing to be embaressed about, ok?” He smiled when he felt you nod against his chest. “I know Steve can be a bit much at first but he’s a good person who’s been through a lot of bullshit.”

As you sniffle, you tilt back so you could see his face. 

“I feel bad.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“I liked the way he spoke to me. It turned me on the same way you do.”

“Ok…why does that make you feel bad?”

You shrug. “I love you.”

That makes him genuinely smile. 

“I love you to, Y/N, so much. That’s why I trust you, babe. I, um, I have a confession to make.” When you sit up to give him your full attention, he does the same. “I’ve known Steve for a long time and I trust that man with my life. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone and he’s done the same. You said, sweetheart, he’s the yin to my yang and you’re right. Fuck… how do I say this…”

“You want to share me?”

The innocent way you asked your question drove him insane but he pushed down the need to fuck you for the time being. 

“Kind of, yes. I…I wanted to see how you two got along and if it worked out, maybe, we could fly to go meet him and… you’d still be mine but he’d—”

“Use me.”

“Fuck, baby, you have to stop saying things like that the way you are.”, Eddie panted excitedly as he adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. 

“May I ask why? Why you would want to share me like that?”

“Of course, Y/N, you can always ask me anything. You hold the power here especially when it comes to this. I just… he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy to. In these past few months, you’ve changed my world and I just want to give him some of that. I, um, I also think…”

“Tell me, Daddy. Please.”, you beg in your tiny voice that has his eyes closing as he tries to control himself. 

“Fuck… I think it would be incredibly hot to watch you fuck him.”

You had told him you were open but apprehensive because it was all new territory for you. Both men came up with an idea to help you get acclimated to the idea. 

“Hey all. Wow, Jesus Christ Munson, you undersold your girlfriend’s beauty. Hot damn.”

You giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend who was laughing himself from his side of the computer screen. It looked like Steve had the device he was using for this facetime visit resting on his lower stomach as he leaned against the headboard of his bed looking incredibly sexy with his ruffled hair and tank top just barely covering the chest hair that littered his skin. 

Eddie had you sitting in between his own legs as he rested his head against your shoulder and his arms hugged you to him. 

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. If I do at any point please just let me know and I’ll respect your boundaries.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable but, uh, you kind of intimidate me a bit…more than Eddie did.”

“Is it because I start at 10 and go from there? Yeah, casualties of growing up in chaotic household and then starting a business where your biggest competitor is your father.”

“What DO you do? Ed said you’re an investor?”

“Kind of.  I invested in a friend’s tech company many years ago and that paid off in a big way. They make medical supplies that are high quality for a cheaper price. I’m trying to expand so we can invest in more—Pfft! Listen to me talking about all that bullshit. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No, hey! That’s amazing that you do that. My father needed supplies like that but it was so hard for him to afford stuff. You’ve probably helped so many people. What supplies has your company helped make?”

Steve blinked, sitting up straighter.

“Huh.”

“I told you.”, Eddie sings as he places a delicate kiss along your skin. 

“D-Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to ask him questions?”, you asked genuinely worried you crossed a line. 

“Most people, let alone women, don’t care enough to ask us things like you just did.”

“Maybe you two are spending time around the wrong people.”

“Maybe… Damn, Eddie. She’s perfect. Where did you find her because obviously I’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

“Hm. I found her in a coffee shop being yelled at by some asshole. Fucker.”, he growled before you tilted back and kissed his cheek. “It’s not just her personality either. Her body fucking drives me crazy. Even just watching her walk from the bed to the bathroom makes me so fucking hard.”

“Yeah? Your Daddy says you have sexy body. Can you show it to me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, princess.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

“Can you help me, Daddy?”

Nodding, he removes each item of your clothing till you were naked for the man on the screen in front of you. 

“Fuck me. I’m not just saying this, Y/N, but you’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”, you groan as you lick your lips. “May I see you?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”, he smirks. 

Your whole body tingled as you watched him undress until you sucked in a sharp intake of air when his cock sprang free from his cotton confinement. 

“He’s so big.”, you murmur against Eddie’s cheek as his eyes remain downcast to focus on you. “How will it fit?”

“We’ll make fit, pretty girl. Steve and I can take care of you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Little one is worried about your splitting her in half. “

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m a gentleman to. I’m not going to just shove my dick inside of you. Even if it takes hours, we can eat and finger your little pussy till she’s ready.”

“Fuck, Daddy, please.”

Aggressively, Eddie opens your legs wide putting you on display and making Steve groan. 

“Wet already and no one’s even touched you yet.”, he responded mockingly before leaning over his cock to spit on his tip and stroke himself. “How tight is she, Munson?”

You moaned loudly as Eddie inserted two of his thick fingers into your cunt and your head leaned back against him.

“So fucking tight, Harrington, and greedy. Her pussy just sucks me in and chokes my dick when she cums. Add in her sexy little noises and the way her face scrunches…” 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” Steve smiles when you do what he asks. “Good girl. She listens to. Fuck, baby, don’t take those eyes off me. God, I’m—mmm—I’m dying to feel those pretty lips around my cock.”

“You’re really good at sucking cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m…M’close.”

“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Why don’t you tell Stevie how bad you want his cum.”

You mewl as Eddie moves at a faster pace with the sound of your slick echoing around the room. 

“Please, Mr. Harrington, Sir. I-I-I want your cum so much. I want to feel you—ahhhh—feel your cock in my mouth till you spill down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted and you both watched as his release hit his thigh. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. Cum for Daddy now, baby.”, Eddie praised as your back pushed against his chest and you panted as you came. “That’s my girl. Good girl. Ride it out on my fingers till you come back to me. That’s it.”

“Fucking hell. That was amazing, honey.” Steve watch with fascination as you turned your body and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s chest as you curled into his warm chest. “Everything ok?”

“She’s fine. It’s something baby girl does when she cums hard like that. She’ll squeeze me like a fucking Teddy bear and fall asleep. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes or a few hours. At first I thought it was the headspace but I don’t know. Either way I love it.”

“Yeah, man. If she had a good time and is open to it I have that party coming up in a month. You two can fly down and we can hang out. Of course, nothing has to happen. I can always just show you guys around and get to know her more.”

“I’ll let you know when she wakes up and we talk about it.”

“No problem. No problem. Hey, maybe at most, you and I can fuck around.”, Steve replies as he coyly raises his eyebrows making his friend laugh.

“Ok, calm down over there.”

“Oh, come on. Not like it would be the first time—”

“Good night, asshole.”, Eddie teases as he cuts him off and closes the laptop.

#################

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as he watches you fidget with your hands as you stare at your reflection in the metal of the elevator. 

“Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. This is your best friend and I know how much he means to you. I don’t want to…I don’t know…fuck anything up.”

“Fuck, I still think it’s hot when you get all jittery like this.”, he chuckles as he takes your palm in his. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I love you so I know for a fact he will. Just keep being your unique self, baby, and no matter what I’ll be here if you need anything.”

When he flashes you that big toothy grin, you can’t help but smile back as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. The doors abruptly swing open and your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly hardens at the sound of loud party guests in the room you both step into. 

Your eyes swing around the area with no sign of the host himself. 

Tugging on Eddie’s bicep, you lead him to the drink station where you desperately chug down some liquid courage as you pray that tonight goes as smoothly as possible.

[spottys-rathole]

This one's been in the "wip file" all summer long but with the current canon events I decided I might kick myself in the butt and get it done once and for all before anything lore wise happens again because I have a feeling whatever will happen to the eggs it'll make me want to scrap this and completely re-work on my designs again- And I redid Leo's three times so like hell no I'm moving on

Read below the cut to check out my train of thoughts but basically : The first drawing would be what I imagine the eggs to look like past 3-4 months while the second one would be them being 2-3 weeks, according to my own headcanons

[Closeups and headcanons under the cut - warning : it's long]

Basically I have the common headcanon that while growing, the dragons kind of morph into taking their parents' physical traits. The "eggs" all kind of look very similar as hatchlings (As in if you were to see them without their accessories on, you would need to put them next to one another to be able to tell them apart). Similarly to Betta fish, in their first few days they are born covered with smooth white scales but as they grow they shed and become gradually more colourful (fish don't shed, reptiles do ik)

My intentions were to make them look Feration-like, since everything related to them is white (Cucurucho, the quartz paved offices, Cellbit's hair turning white etc) but that the more time they spend with the islanders, the more they would stand out from one another Other individual headcanons include :

Ramón has got a "skin" condition (it's all scales no matter the egg) that makes it so parts of his body will stay baby-white forever no matter the sheds. His scales would be ocher-like with a purple gradient otherwise (similarly to Leo)

Tallulah is able to walk without the use of any accomodation, but gets tired pretty quickly. She occasionaly uses crutches whenever she feels like it

Also she's got hearring aids

Chayanne's skull mask is that of a Nightmare Stalker that he painted on to look like Missa's

Richas and Leo have grown to be better swimmers than their siblings and can hold their breath underwater longer than any other

No matter the shape of the muzzle (Chayanne having a beak, Richarlyson having a calf snout) they all have carnivorous teeth

The clothes the kids wore during the first few days were either given by the Federation (but the eggs quickly outgrew them), crafted by their parents themselves, or spare clothes the islanders yeeted on them while waiting to get something better. I haven't decided which mofo(s) (affectionate) would be the designated one in my head to spend hours neatly tailoring custom-made outfits for every eggs but I'm brainstorming hard. Like I just want to imagine a parent being tired with their kid's clothes being too used and not fitting anymore so they spend whole ass afternoons making new ones all by themselves, and when the other residents see their kid walking around in those dashing new clothes they'd go "woaah where'd [insert kid name] get those ?", "oh ? oh those, it's nothing I made them myself but I'm a bit rusty", "no shit it's so good, it looks so much better than anything the fed gave to my child. They don't have a single holeless shirt left anymore" and that's how first parent ends up pulling all nighters sewing new clothes for every other eggs

Specifically for Pomme's baby denim dress : the butterfly and apple patches were clumsily sewed on top by Antoine because I said so

On kind of the same topic : Tallulah's first wheelchair is a standard wheelchair given by the Fed' that they had laying around in their hospital quarters, it quickly deteriorated because of all the mobs and the shit the residents have to go through on a daily basis and was fixed with the means at hand. Meanwhile her second wheelchair was custom-made by the islanders once they had more ressources, and designed by herself with all terrain wheels and storing space.

Tazercraft designed multiple prototypes and prothesis for Richas before finally settling on something that would accomodate to Richas' unguligrade posture better as he was quickly growing

Richarlyson likes to beat people's shins with his crutch (it is very effective)

Pomme wears a cornflower at her scabbard bc ofc

Despite Dapper not seeing shit without their glasses, it took a while for them to get their eyesight checked and even longer for them to agree to wear them Those are only the eggs that are still currently alive (🤞) Will I do the rest one day ? - probably, maybe, idk, depends on a lot of things ngl

[superstringtheory]

Sicktember 2023- "talentless", OFMD Ed/Stede

Sicktember 2023- prompt #7 “you’re a jerk when you’re sick” 

Ed’s not good at being sick. 

He’s not good at any of this, really, but for some reason a bunch of people decided that his flag was scary or whatever and at this point will pretty much fall all over themselves giving him all of their shit. 

Well, and of course there’s Izzy, who’s still mad at him, but who’d kill half the people in the Caribbean in the name of Blackbeard if Ed asked him to. 

Izzy, who’d recently come back from a covert little operation all congested and wet leather, hoarse voice even rougher than usual. 

Izzy’s fault, then, for sharing more than just intel. 

Ed sniffles, and then stops midway through wiping his nose on his sleeve when Stede comes into the bedroom from the auxiliary closet, looking radiant and healthful in a lavender coat. 

“Sweetheart,” Stede says. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit.” 

Ed gives him the most nonplussed look. 

“And hearing that makes me feel even better,” he says, and clears his throat. 

“Do you want anything?” Stede asks. 

“Nope,” Ed says, popping the ‘p.’ “I can take care of myself. Did just fine before you got here, and I seem to recall that when you got here, you were the one needed caretaking.” He clears his throat again, looking away when Stede shoots him a knowing look. 

“Well,” Ed says, standing from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the bed. “Time to go check on the crew.” 

“Isn’t it storming?” Stede asks. 

“All the better reason to check on them.” 

“There’s no way you’d want to stay down here? I’m sure they’re doing fine.” 

“It’s mostly your crew, Stede,” Ed says in a patronizing tone, which is only ruined a little bit by sniffling. “They’re better at arts and crafts than sailing.” 

“Fine,” Stede says. “Enjoy your pneumonia.” 

Stede does regret saying that, later. 

*** 

Ed’s not good at being sick. 

It’s drippy and it’s achy and he can’t find the words for how to make it better. Everything he says comes out of his mouth harsh, barbed, a stick sharpened at both ends. Stede had been right; it is storming, but even so he’d appeared on deck about twenty minutes after Ed, seemingly not concerned about getting his new lavender outfit wet. 

“How’s it going up here?” Stede says in a bright tone, and Ed can almost hear the eye-roll that Jim gives. Ed feels about the same, except worse because there’s something with claws in his throat. 

“Boss’s all wet,” Izzy growls, and Stede lifts a blonde eyebrow. It’s incredibly stupid how good his hair looks when it’s rain-dampened, curling more at the edges, haloing his face. 

Ed sniffs, trying to surreptitiously wipe his nose. 

“Gotta go check on something belowdeck,” he manages, after Stede looks like he’s going to step forward and shove a handkerchief into Ed’s face or something equally embarrassing. Ed doesn’t wait or attempt any further explanation- by the time he’s down the stairs, he has to stop and lean back against the wall for a moment. 

Izzy’d been right- he is all wet, and he feels chilled to the bone, still achy and out-of-sorts. Ed coughs, then swears as he hears the distinctive sound of Stede’s heeled shoes coming down the stairs. 

“Sweetheart?” Stede’s voice calls, and Ed forces himself to straighten up. “Are you sure you didn’t want to head back to our quarters?” 

He actually does have a handkerchief in his hand now, and he’s moving towards Ed with it with that little creased forehead look he gets whenever Ed tells what he’d thought was a funny story about being an adolescent on Hornigold’s ship that actually sounds pretty fucked up once he hears it again. 

“M’fine,” Ed says, hating the way his voice goes all raspy. “Just gonna check on our stores.” 

Stede’s gently taking him by the elbow now, still with that concerned expression. 

“That’s not your job, love, I’m sure it’s all taken care of.” 

Ed twists away, out of Stede’s grasp. 

“Everything on this ship is my job. I’m the captain, aren’t I?” 

Maybe that would’ve come out better if he hadn’t had to cough afterwards, but he’s sure that Stede gets the point. 

Ed glares at Stede for a long moment, and then Stede takes a step back. 

“Noted,” he says, and even though Ed had pushed him away, now that Stede’s leaving, Stede is all Ed wants. 

*** 

There isn’t really anything to do in the store room, but Ed spends too much time in there anyway, feeling worse and worse. He can’t seem to get warm, and his throat feels like it’s on fire, and not the fun kind of fire like when he and Stede had set that ship of rich idiots ablaze. 

He falls into a kind of doze, too stubborn to simply creep back to the cabin and crawl under the covers. Stede probably hates him now. 

Just thinking of Stede brings a kind of visual miasma of him, a hazy version of his lavender coat. And an auditory hallucination, too- the sound of Stede’s heeled shoes, stepping even closer. And– oh, it’s actually Stede. 

Ed wants to apologize, wants to tell Stede that he hadn’t meant it, that he’s just sick and miserable and his throat hurts and his head hurts and– 

All that comes out is a small whining sound, raspy and painful. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Stede’s voice is soft and warm. His eyes are gentle, and suddenly Stede’s bent over and Ed’s burrowing himself into Stede’s neck, stifling a cough into Stede’s chest.

Ed starts to say something but has to keep coughing, and Stede just tsks at him and presses his lovely cool hand against Ed’s neck. 

“Let’s get you back into bed, hmm?” Stede’s saying, and then he’s pulling Ed up to a stand, supporting him as they make their way back to the cabin. “Get you in bed and get you cooled down.” 

Stede’s strong arm around his waist, his hand on Ed’s forehead, the crinkle of concern in Stede’s gaze- it all speaks to what’s coming next: the tepid bath, the cold cloths for Ed’s head, the tinctures of honey and rum. Throughout it all, Stede there by his side, murmuring and fussing. 

Ed’s still not good at being sick, but Stede is wonderful at taking care of him. 

[ashmouthbooks]

omg wait are you in denmark??? can I ask where you get your book binding supplies, like the paper for the covers? I immigrated from the US in Sep just as I was getting into the hobby and havent figured out hobby shopping yet

I am not! I live in London, UK, and I get all my supplies from here as after Brexit it's often more hassle than it's worth getting stuff shipped from Europe, and shipping costs from the US are outrageous.

YOU, however, live in a) the EUROPEAN UNION and b) a fairly centrally located country with easy train connections to the rest of Europe. Please enjoy it for as long as it lasts, I miss it every day.

I don't know where to get bookbinding supplies in Denmark as I didn't start this hobby until after I moved to the UK. For general arts & crafts needs I used to go to Søstrene Grene (and last time I was home I stopped by quickly and they haven't changed at all) as they have a wide variety of decorative papers and related items. they tend to be seasonal so check by every few weeks if what they have doesn't appeal. It also has to be said they cater to a very specific target audience so most of the stuff they have is very instagram-friendly and pastel-y, but I've been lucky in the past and have found nice things.

Panduro Hobby is where I would go to get things like cutting mats and sharp knives and adhesive, possibly. they also have random craft tools but I wouldn't trust them to have things like bonefolders in their sortiment. they also have plain coloured paper of the kind that you can usually find in any store that carries stationery, I like to use that kind of paper as endpapers when I just want something plain, but still coloured. they sometimes also have decorative paper.

I have made it a habit here in the UK that whenever I go somewhere that has a gift shop or carries gift-related inventory (museums, art galleries, bookstores, etc.) I check the wrapping paper rack. these places will often have large single sheets of decorative paper meant for wrapping gifts BUT one can usually also use them for cover papers, or even endpapers. they don't always take moisture from adhesives well, so be careful working with those kind of papers, but maaan the variety of random pretty wrapping papers in stores like these is genuinely upsetting to me as I must Restrain Myself, but anyway, go to these places and see what you can find!

back to my point about the EU. I strongly recommend that you look towards Germany and elsewhere in the EU for things you can't find in Denmark, and have it shipped to you. within the EU there's no import/customs tax or anything like that, and I've always found German companies to be reliable and fast. Sweden might be an option too? If you're in Copenhagen Malmø is just 25 minutes away by train and for all I know there could be something there worth visiting. and for Germany, jump on a train in the other direction and make a daytrip out of it. You can get to Hamburg or even Berlin and back in a day.

also, I enjoy Pepin Press papers a lot - here in London I get them from Daunt's Bookshop - Pepin Press is based in Amsterdam but their papers are carried by retailers globally, for more info check https://pepinpress.com/

[poisonsage808]

alrightie, alrightie, here I come with my ship request:

can I please get a romantic ship for myself, pretty please? thank you!

I go by she/her and I am bisexual

for fandoms I am fine with either HOTD or GOT, whoever you think will fit better.

I am average height and with an average body (and a feature on myself that I don't really like are my hips dips). I wear glasses (as I tend to see all the world blurred without them) and I do look every inch the Clark Kent aesthetic of the good-hearted nerd. I have brown eyes and I dyed my hair to be a more orange-y brown (does that make sense? but it's a middle way between straight up red hair and brown). I also tan a lot in the summer (except my face, since I am always holding a book over it, whenever I got to he beach).

when I am not writing, cursing Tumblr or having exam, I enjoy reading, watching TV series and crafting beads necklaces and bracelets since I can't stay still unless I am doing something with my hands; I enjoy putting on makeup and find it quite relaxing and for the sake of my own health I need to start every morning with my four steps skincare routine.

I'd describe myself as the anxious girlie that has this scary aura but really hasn't tried to communicate with anybody because she is scared of making a fool of herself. I am a perfectionist with a pendant for rules and routines, although I can be quite clumsy and totally forgetful as I am always stuck into my own reality. I enjoy creating, whether it is in writing, crafting or using my bullet journal. I am an INFP and a scorpio sun, pisces moon and libra rising (and I live by that religiously)

I enjoy: the color purple, being on time, academic validation, new books, old vintage stores in the open air and nice overpriced cafes (although I shouldn't drink it because 1) I don't like the taste, 2) it's bad for the anxiety), and one day I'll just make good on my promise to either buy a bookstore and sell books while I appear as the mysterious and edgy shop clerk or disappear in the woods to write my own novels and support myself economically.

I dislike: pushy people, late people, and I can tell from a mile whether somebody is fake or not; I also don't forgive and forget easily, although I am extremely non-confrontational (to the point of discomfort). I dislike also ignorance and arrogance (although I think that to be confident is a good thing, putting others off for the sake of making yourself better is a red flag to me).

aesthetically my friends would describe me as either the pastel Taylor Swift girl or the light academia overworked student.

fun facts about me:

everybody finds it strange that I am a girly girl who likes also sports (such as Motorsport and F1), but I enjoy watching sports either alone or with my family and it's a bonding thing among me and my sister.

I had and still have an obsession with anything mythological and it influenced greatly the career path that I took (not me on Saturday wandering in the children's section of a bookstore and considering buying this whole cute book about myths across the world) (the only reason why I didn't was because I didn't know where to put it).

I was born on the 31st of October and I am still convinced that one day I'll pull a YA main character move and reveal secret magical powers (I am joking, I am joking but being a telepath sounds cool, although my only superpower right now is overthinking everything)

alright, so I think that this is enough and I can't wait to see ho I get!

thank you again for this chance and have a lovely day!

-𝒜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉𝒾

i see you as a sheltered highborn lady (in a good way!) you have an ability, let’s call it, you’re all too aware of the bad in people. you can see the scales being tipped on one direction or the other. it might make you a tad pessimistic at times. it’s exhausting for sure. but your houses keep has a library with all the books you could want, all the spare time and all the material for your crafts. you’re spotted from afar. from your auburn hair to the way you observe people has a certain someone thinking you’re too special to stay hidden away here. you’re stolen;

♡ i ship you with…! ♡

♡ Tormund Giantsbane ♡

• At first you’re only a good contribution to the Freefolk. That is to say literate, Tormund brings you scrolls to read before deciding if it’s worth passing them forward to Mance

• He was right to think you were special, you’re a mediator and gods know they need one from time to time. From orphaned children, full grown adults to even taller giants your presence alone starts to cease arguments

• He’s also the one to pick up on your ability, deciding whether or not they’re trustworthy on the spot, searching them for darkened auras and such. A handful of these newcomers that you’ve dismissed (re: put very little effort into getting to know), ended up being killed for one treason or the other

• Tormund’s the first to notice how weary you become afterwards and how it worsens upon meeting new faces. He may not know why, at the beginning, but he knows that you look tired and require extra energy and that means warmer blankets, less time around people, more food, MANY attempts to slip you giantsmilk. He’s very concerned, he just wants you healthy

• And happy. This man absolutely loves making you laugh! His stories aren’t particularly funny but the way he describes things and talks force you into a fit of giggles. The sound has him grinning for the rest of the day

• It doesn’t take long for Tormund to decide he likes you. He wants to steal you as his this time. He appreciates you communicate like a wildling even if you don’t see it as such. The ginger doesn’t mind standing up for you when you can’t— he really likes taking care of you but has this respect that you don’t need him to do any of it

• Tormund is whipped though, you can ask him just about anything and consider it done before the request completely leaves your mouth (The exception being he won’t do anything that would jeopardize Mance’s cause)

• For example Tormund, at your request, pitched up a tent. You have big plans for this area apparently. The Freefolk can come and borrow or swap books, you plan on offering to teach them to read— you went on and on about this… library. He may not understand why it’s important to you but he doesn’t really need to know more than that. “You want this? You’ll have it.”

• Tormund may not be able to give you that noble life you’ve been accustomed to but he desperately tries to keep you happy. He’ll fight to get you a sliver of normalcy on the other side of that fucking wall

[livingwithlosingyou]

Living with Losing You - 10/9/2022

Pumpkin Patch and homemade soup!

Today was a good day, mostly. I was supposed to record music, but honestly I felt pretty emotionally wiped and exhausted. It has been cathartic to record, but also painful in some ways. I hate that I had to write this music. I wish you were here. 

I woke up and decided that I wanted a slow start to my morning. I was in my PJ’s until about 11am, which is rare for me. I woke up at around 6am but was super tired from being out so late the night before that I did end up taking a nap. After a little more rest, I finally did decide I would try and run today. I just did a couple of miles. The hives have been mostly better, but I am definitely still struggling with them. I don’t want to push myself too much. I ended up running at about 12:30pm, then waited a little while and went on a walk with your mom. It has been nice to have chill days where we can just hang out and talk. I really appreciate that time together. I am sure she does too. I am getting a little sad at the thought of leaving, but I am excited to go back home and see Sadie and Latte, I miss them a ton. 

After that I showered and was deciding between the pumpkin patch that was about 18 mins away or the Henry Clay Estate. I figured I would go to the pumpkin patch since it was seasonal, and the other one I could go to whenever. This was a good time. Driving there I couldn’t help but wish you were in the passenger’s seat and we were driving with the windows down. We probably would have been talking about what we would be carving, etc. I miss our conversations. 

It was busy, but honestly I expected it to be WAY busier. I will say as far as pumpkin patches go, it was pretty limited pumpkins wise. It was primarily stuff for the kiddos to do; A petting zoo, slides, etc. I did end up bringing the market bag that I got at the craft fair and bought 5 smaller pumpkins, two gnomes, and some apple butter. I was complimented at the check out for my market bag. I am kind of kicking myself for not buying more of them. 

After that I headed to the grocery store because I wanted to make your mom and I dinner and dessert. She has been so hospitable, and I really appreciate her welcoming me into her home. It means a lot to me. So, I decided to make chicken noodle soup. It wasn’t too hard, and I was able to find a broth that didn’t have onions in it (YAY!). This was a harder task than I thought. I got some of those GF cookies that we loved and bought some oat milk vanilla ice-cream. I even bought a sweater at the Kroger. They truly have it all there. It’s a joke that if Kroger doesn’t have it, then Amazon would be the only other place. Honestly very impressed with that store. 11/10, great job Kroger. Also will never stop loving the fact that the bags are free here. What a concept. 

I headed back to the house and gave your mom the gnome, apple butter, and she set up the pumpkins on the table. They’re pretty small, more so for table décor. I did decorate one of them though because I figured it would be fun to do something with at least one of them! 

I cooked the dinner, and we ate and chatted for the remainder of the evening. So grateful for moments like this. I ended up having a tougher conversation later that evening with someone else, and it made me get very in my head. I’ve found that it’s very easy to be triggered, and by specific people. Trying to figure out boundaries. I know I am not the greatest at those at times because I just want to love and care for everyone, and not feel like I am letting them down. 

I have to work tomorrow, and really need to listen to the rough recordings of the music. Work shouldn't be too crazy though, luckily. I also need to swap out that purse that I bought at the craft fair (the one that supports domestic violence victims) for another one. 

Fingers crossed mental health will be better tomorrow. It’s honestly been mostly better here than it was when I was in SD. 

Rest in Peace, James Burton Nichols

I love you. 

10/1/1993 - 7/16/2022

PS I love that I didn’t take photos proof of my meals, but your mom can vouch for me (LOL)

[caffernnn]

thinking of little things that haru does on a daily basis that make makoto's heart go pitter patter and think "how did i get so lucky"

like on the way home he sees haru feeding a stray cat and sheltering it from the rain. or he sees haru interact with asahi's baby newphew at marron and imagines haru as a dad. Or how he always invites makoto over after his part time job and cooks for him bc "since I'm already cooking for myself it's no problem" but he knows he just worries about makoto not eating right. or how he helps makoto study and go through his title cards before a big test. or how he sometimes wants to talk to ren and ran when he sees makoto facetiming them. or how haru always seems to take mental note whenever they go to a store and makoto stares at something for longer than 5 seconds and bam! a week later there's a chocolate cake waiting by makoto's porch. or how haru takes care of his plushies like they're real (he's got 3. A dolphin, and orca and a mackerel). Seeing haru wearing his shirts. Seeing haru steal his shirts. Overall makoto has never been so in love

One of the things I love exploring with makoharu is how their closeness allows them to declare their love and care beyond (or sometimes without) words all the freakin time. They look after each other with a thoughtfulness that has become second nature, and it manifests in this beautiful life where both Makoto and Haru end up melting anytime there’s a moment of stillness to revel in what they’ve built together. It’s funny watching how flustered they get when put on the spot to put it all into words, as if these small moments haven’t been practically screaming this whole time.

This also extends into how they interact with the world — they genuinely adore each other because they see how the other injects kindness into so much of what they do. Makoto loves watching all the ways Haru cares for his friends, silently saying “I can’t always give you the right words, but here’s my time, here’s my craft, here’s my heart laid bare and beating more than I’d like to admit.” Haru loves watching Makoto’s mind move faster than he can fathom, all while smiling freely and trying to offer support and encouragement to others however he can. The makoharu dynamic is the epitome of best friends who can’t help but be each other’s biggest fans as well. They are each other’s pride and joy!!!!

What’s so great is that for all of these candid moments and actions Makoto covets with fondness, Haru probably has a collection of memories just as large and just as fond. The sentimentality of it all feels too big and embarrassing/overwhelming at times, but in those private moments where they feel safe to soak it all in? HOO BOY

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #14

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Santa Invasion

“What’s this?”

“Ice cream.”

“Well, I can tell that much just by looking, but...”

“To be precise, it is an ice cream cake.”

A gigantic ladybug was sitting on the low table. Its vivid red and dark brown-like black shades were definitely berries and chocolate. The back was decorated with flowers like marguerite. It was adorable. And huge. It was a hemispherical cake that looked like a basket ball cut in half, the name of a store from Dogenzaka printed on its box. It was 7PM. The last customer had left, I was done with the cleaning and all we had left to do was closing the store. It was still the second week of December, so the mayhem of making provisions for winter presents was a few ways ahead, but the number of clients was increasing little by little.

Just what on earth would this beautiful jeweler come up in such times?

Due to a habit of his from whenever he had something that was hard to say aloud and thus failed to speak up, Mr. Richard Ranashinghe de Vulpian had a serious crease forming just slightly between his brows. It made me feel at ease. This guy didn’t make a face like this when he was burdened with something that was actually difficult to say. He would speak more bland and expressionlessly instead.

“This is a little souvenir.”

“Are you going to a customer’s place after this?”

Richard’s reply was a gentle “no” in English.

He’d been often speaking a mix of Japanese and English lately. When English-speaking customers came by, he would switch completely to English as if for practical assessment, so I was desperate just to keep up with listening to them. I was grateful for having him as my English conversation teacher.

“A certain good-for-nothing who works with finances is currently in Japan, so...”

“Ah, Jeffrey-san, is it? He seemed so busy last time... Sorry, forget what I just said.”

“No need. That is a correct interpretation, so it is nothing to apologize about.”

Despite saying this, Richard’s facial expression did not seem even remotely satisfied as he swiftly took an indigo envelope out of his pocket. It had no seal, so it must have been handed over to him. The content was a pop-out card, and under a paper-craft cake colored with gold leaves and uneven printing, it was written in very tasteful Japanese: “I’m going to hold a party at the hotel, so come over. I’ll be waiting.” The date of the party was today and the place was the room of a luxury hotel in Tokyo. A home party? No, a hotel party.

The title was “Richard’s birthday party”. The plate of the pop-up cake didn’t say “Merry Christmas”. It said “Happy Birthday”.

Christmas Eve on the 24th was this beautiful shopkeeper’s birthday.

As I returned the card to him, a crease once again formed between Richard’s brows as he said with an unsparingly decisive tone, “How very embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t seem so much like it from your face.”

“Because I practiced making it. But this is extremely embarrassing. I think it is not something that warrants going through the trouble of arranging a plane ticket.”

“I wonder if anyone else will be going.”

“It seems Chieko will attend. I received an e-mail yesterday saying, ‘I am going to show up as a surprise so please take care of me’.”

“Is that even a surprise? Well, okay.”

Chieko-san was Richard and Jeffrey’s private tutor in the past and I was acquainted with her to some degree. I wondered if Homura-san, who had married her daughter, was also coming. No, not happening. He was a customer of Etranger, so Richard would probably feel abashed if he did so.

“If it goes on like this, the people lying in wait in that room will just gang up into an assembly to celebrate me.”

“What even is ‘ganging up to celebrate’?”

“They are ganging up on me. I likely will not be able to say anything other than ‘thank you very much’. I need reinforcements. If you would like, could you come with me?”

“Me too? That okay?”

“Of course. The party starts at 8PM probably because it coincides with Etranger’s closing hours. That British safe-like man is not narrow-minded enough to leave you out.”

It was written there that the party would begin at 8PM. We had 30 minutes. There was no spare time to make a pudding. What to do? What should I do?

Richard was apparently unable to let my groaning an “ngh, ngh” while deep in thought go unnoticed. “If it is impossible for you, just say so right away. I know that you are at the final stage of studying for your exams.”

“That doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me a bit earlier about this? If I knew, I could’ve made preparations for it... Aah, is that why?”

“It is. I recall saying that you should refrain from being overly distracted.”

“I don’t think a ‘celebration’ is ‘overly distracting’, though.”

“Anything is fine, so please answer. Will you come or not?”

He didn’t have to go as far as asking me something like that.

I bowed in a way that wouldn’t cause any hairs to fall onto the ice cream ladybug. “I shall humbly accompany you.”

“Very well.”

“Sorry, but before that, I gotta go to the toilet for a bit.”

I hastily rushed to Etranger’s restroom and unlocked my phone in a flash. I then tapped on the e-mail app. Of course, the destination could only be one person.

“Help. I’m sorry but I just got informed about the birthday party, so I have no present.”

Jeffrey-san.

The contents of the message were not at all on a level that someone should send to the person they owed their life to, but he would understand.

The reply came in a matter of seconds. As expected, he worked fast.

“Good evening. I have everything, so there’s no problem if you come empty-handed. There will be champagne, canapés, chicken pie and cake, and I plan to have chocolate fondue coming up at the end.”

There was a proud smiley emoji at the end of the text. It seemed this was going to be a big deal.

Richard would probably have work tomorrow, and he wasn’t the type to get wasted or stuff his face with sweets in the middle of the night. It seemed I also wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. It made me feel sorry. This was the same old pattern. This course of eating and seeing good stuff amidst the confusion of the moment made my stomach hurt when I thought better about it.

“Don’t you know anything that Richard wanted?”

The response came after a moment, “My bad, but nothing comes to mind. How about you give him what you want most?”

What I wanted most. I could only think of refill shampoo and new socks. I’d be ashamed of giving things like that to Richard. After all, this was a mixture of birthday and Christmas party—

Just as I was thinking this, a genius inspiration sprouted in my head. It wasn’t the best solution. Not at all. But I felt it could work. This was too obvious, but if only I had the necessary materials for it, I could do it immediately.

Making up my mind, I came out of the restroom, apologized for making Richard wait, and as we rode to the designated address on the jaguar, I had him stop the car in front of a mass retailer for a moment. I told him I wanted to buy refill shampoo for my home. Richard was exasperated, but didn’t have any suspicions in particular.

We arrived at the hotel, got into the elevator, and on the way to the party venue, I made sure to walk a bit behind Richard. Staying out of his sight was essential.

When he opened the door to the suite, sure enough, Jeffrey-san and Chieko-san were waiting inside. Giving off a relaxed atmosphere, a room-service feast even bigger than what I had imagined from the phone call was waiting on the table for the main guest.

“Happy birthday, Richard. Chieko’s here too. Surprised?”

“Of course. Very surprised. Extremely.”

“Hmm, by the looks of it, I guess there was some information leak. Well, that’s okay! Where’s Nakata-kun?”

“What do you mean ‘where’? He’s right here. Seigi... Seigi?”

My eyes locked with Richard’s. I had locked them with Jeffrey-san’s before that. I was grateful that he had done me the favor of not laughing.

I politely shook my head at my boss, who was making a flabbergasted face. “My name is Santa.”

What I had bought at the mass retailer was a handy Santa makeover set. The three-piece set consisted of a hat, a put-on beard and a Santa costume, but I hadn’t had time to change into the costume, so it was folded up in my bag. I intended to borrow the suite’s bathroom to put on the costume. If I at least had my face ready, I could somehow make it work.

Richard was dumbfounded. It was the obvious reaction. But I wanted him to forgive me for this. After all, it was December and today was a party day.

“I’m Santa Claus! I came from the North Pole. Please take care of me for today!” After introducing myself, I thought that maybe this wasn’t an exemplary self-introduction for Santa, but it was already too late.

Jeffrey-san, who completely livened up the mood whenever he got excited, went along with the joke, saying, “Wah, Santa-san, thank you for coming from such a faraway place!”

I was grateful for that one. And that was how I got away with playing the role of a worldwide mascot-like old man character from the Arctic for the day. The ice cream cake brought by the star of the party was a success, and we had a toast with both champagne and royal milk tea. Chieko-san was wearing a kimono, the remade peridot brooch on her chest.

   It had already been more than half a year since then, but to my body, it felt like even longer ago.

My location had moved from Japan to Sri Lanka, as one would expect, and I was busy fully enjoying a spring in which white temple flowers were blooming in Kandy, my new home. But for some reason, Santa was here. A beautiful blond, blue-eyed man slipped in and out of sight, but his outward appearance was that of Santa Claus. It was the kind of Santa costume that you could buy at the costume section of any mass retailer. One of the sad things about unmatched beauty was the fact nobody could actually claim that his natural beauty was ruined by the look. The brilliance of his blue eyes, which looked like they could suck you in, was the same as ever.

“I am Santa Claus. I came from the North Pole.”

“But now’s a hot time of the year.”

“Santa Claus is a symbol of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. I do not think it is particularly strange.”

“T-That might be true. Well, then... what’re you doing?”

“Santa does what Santa does. The tradition of Santa Claus, much like the language of jewels, has a wide variety of legends to it depending on the region, but either way, the role of a saint who grants blessings to little children, women and those in need is a guise commonly demanded in society. And for you, here it is.” Saying this, “Santa” offered me a plastic, loose stone display case that I was all too familiar with. There was a red stone stuck between the cushion and transparent lid. “Can you identify this gemstone?”

“Tourmaline, I guess. Red tourmaline.”

“Good for you. Did you know that it has one more name?”

“Rubellite.”

“Perfect. Large, pinkish-red tourmalines are called by that name, and it is a stone of which huge carved crystals have been loved as works of art, such as the amulet of Empress Dowager Cixi and the Romanov royal treasure, the ‘Strawberry Pendant’.”

As I peeked at the stone inside the case, humming that it was pretty, the beautiful jeweler cleared his throat and started over.

“Just as people’s feelings dwell within beautiful stones, this one is filled with the feeling of celebrating the start of your new life, from your family back in Japan, your friends and your superior at work, with whom you have a relationship other than the aforementioned and that neither of us knows how to define. Santa is wholly thankful for being in the position to bestow you with such a gift. I forgot to say it, but happy birthday. Nakata Seigi-san. I sincerely pray, all the way from my home in the Arctic, that this year will be a fruitful one for you.”

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you for always, Richa...”

“Santa. I am a passing Santa.”

“Then let’s go with that. By the way, if you’re Santa, where are the reindeers?”

When asked this, the man in disguise answered with a cool gaze that the reindeers were using stealth technology nowadays so that they wouldn’t be found by radars, hence they couldn’t be seen. He had it down to the details.

“It’s been about ten years since the last time Santa-san came around. I’ll take good care of this. Santa-san, you take care of your body too. I’ll ask my boss next time I see him about the person who gave you this stone.”

“You should. Well, then.” With a bow, Santa left for a car parked in the courtyard. I probably wasn’t supposed to see him off. I’d feel bad for the stealth reindeers.

The red stone stayed in my hand.

I had told a white lie. It hadn’t been ten years since Santa had last showed up. This was the first time ever since I was born. In my home, there was always someone playing the role of “Santa”, such as Hiromi, Grandma and Nakata-san, so they never tried to tell me nice lies. Nakata-san probably just followed Hiromi’s way of doing things, though. The fact I thought up something like that last December, when Jeffrey asked me what I “wanted most”, might not have been unrelated to this. At any rate, to me, not even once was there any supernatural existence who would leave toys by my bedside if I were a good kid. Until this day.

After a while of standing by the garden, where it was always summer, and listening closely to the cries of birds with my eyes closed, I unlocked my phone. The Wi-Fi range of the house seemed good, and so I could send e-mails immediately. The contents were simple. The destination was my boss, Richard.

“Santa came to my place. But he left so quick that I couldn’t make him tea.”

The reply soon came: “Are you half-asleep?”

If he really thought that I was half-asleep, then maybe I should delay the reply for a few more minutes, I thought, but I didn’t write anything further. The house’s cleaning was half-assed and I had to check the security. I also wanted to know as many of my neighbors as could.

Together with the feeling that I had suddenly been given something I had forgotten, and that I didn’t even know I had forgotten, I put rubellite in the jewelry safe and stepped out into the Sri Lankan provincial city. I had nothing to fear and no hesitation. The ill feeling that I’d be living here alone had disappeared. After all, Santa had come by. Far from elementary school, I was now an adult who had already graduated from university, and it currently wasn’t December but May, where the only anniversary I could think of was my own birthday, yet Santa had come by. Such an impossible thing had happened.

So I could do my best, I thought.

And so, I could be getting ahead of myself, but I began thinking about my plans for this December. Would there be a second chance for Santa to appear? If not, I wanted to make one. I decided to fuss over the outfit a little more and prepare proper gifts this time. Then I’d tell him stories about jewels and try to make him laugh a lot. That, too, was Santa’s duty.

[ddaehyeon]

something new; koo jungmo + reader

pairing: koo jungmo + gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.2k words

summary: you weren't a regular customer, in fact, you only go to jungmo's store once a year. his curiosity about your yearly action sure had gotten the best of him when he finally decided to ask you why you'd always buy the same thing every year.​

taglist: @bunnyseongmin​, @lovevity​, @marigolddss, @starrycrvty​

a/n: a little late but !! happy jungmo day :> i suck at titles,,, this was supposed to be a short drabble

not requested! ☆  cravity masterlist ;  taglist form

a month left before flowers start blooming again. you tucked your hand in the pockets of your coat, the warmth of the hot packs spreading into your body. usually, you’d stay in your unit for the whole day, drown yourself in activities you weren’t sure you actually enjoyed.

however, today was different. it was the only day in the year you’d put an effort to dress up and wander around the city.

you looked at the paper bag that held two cat plushies you had bought out of impulse. a strategy fooling you into buying a buy one take one stuffed toy you simply found cute. you don’t normally spend money on such a thing, but giving in to such little temptations once in a while shouldn’t be so bad, no?

a smile on your lips, there was only one more location left. your every year’s final stop. a cakery.

the heavy traffic of customers was set to occur in a few days with valentine’s day approaching. despite that, today wasn’t as condensed. a few customers would go every now and then to get either a birthday cake or just to indulge in buying their favorite slice.it was just a small shop, having too many flowers on its display that would at first make you mistaken it for a flower shop. a wide variety of cakes along with some muffins and sponges were on display.

never did it fail to give you such a welcoming vibe whenever the bell rings above your head. a cheerful greeting following it thereafter.

“the same cake?” jungmo, as his nametag read, asked and you nodded.

you only go there once a year. same day, around the same time. an hour before their closing time. and every single year, this guy seemed to be the one to handle your order.

“oh and—”

“the ‘happy birthday to me’ icing, noted.” there was a smile on his lips when he pulled your favorite cake out of the showcase. a small gesture that made you smile. he remembered.

“thank you.” you watched him turn his back to you to work on your cake. as you wait, you walked around the shop where you ended up settling in front of a bundle of tulips, still fresh. curious, a question slipped out of your lips. “you buy flowers every day?”

jungmo just finished packing your cake when he turned to you and answered, “not really.” his hand moved to place your order on a plastic where the shop’s logo was imprinted in such a whimsical font. “only during this date.”

you raised a brow at his response, going back to the counter to pay for your item. “it’s lovely.”

“it is.” the sound coming from the receipt being printed filled the room for a moment, giving any awkward silence no space to linger. jungmo attached the receipt on the plastic, placing it down on the counter for you to receive. “by the way, why do you always buy your cake for yourself?"

it was a question you didn’t expect to hear, but you took pleasure in answering. "for self-love.” you shrugged, a smile reappearing in your brim. “no one celebrates it with me, so i'll celebrate it myself."

no, it wasn’t as pitiful as it sounded. it was just… sometimes, your best company for such a special day would be yourself. and yourself alone.

“is that so?” a hint of surprise was painted on his expression. though it gradually melted when he locked his eyes on you. ever so nonchalantly, he asked, "then can i celebrate your birthday with you?"

“wouldn’t it be weird to spend your birthday with a stranger?” regardless of your words, you’d mentally agreed to do it. you simply wanted to see how he would react, trying to find some kind of entertainment in the situation.

and he sure was able to amuse you with his reply. “am i still really a stranger when you’ve bought the same cake from me every single year for the fourth time now?”

you chuckled at his response. “well, i guess not?”

jungmo smugly hunched his shoulder up as if he was able to win some kind of debate. it was something that made you laugh once more.

“after your shift then,” you said. there was only less than an hour left anyway, you can wait.

but maybe jungmo can’t.

“great.” he placed his nametag down, checking the balance of the cash register and locking it after. without wasting any second, he went to the signboard, flipping it to indicate that the shop was already closed. yet again another curve appeared on his brim. “it’s over now.”

to be outside during the evening of your birthday wasn’t a part of your plan. neither was being inside a cake shop after its closing time nor celebrating your birthday with the son of the store owner was in your checklist.

the two of you settled on one of the tables allotted for customers who would want to enjoy their cakes inside the shop. after his gleeful singing of a happy birthday song, you blew the candle and made a wish.

it was your first time to hold an actual conversation with jungmo. the chat going smoothly as if you’d known each other for years. well, in fact, you do, just not in this way. his background coming known to you; his parents owned the shop and he simply enjoyed being there at least thrice a week.

“so… you said you buy flowers during this date only,” you began, looking at jungmo as he brought a portion of his slice to his mouth. “why so?”

jungmo hummed at first, looking at the displayed flowers as he swallowed. his lips forming a thin line while he stared at the tulips you were adoring earlier. “it’s actually my birthday today as well.”

“oh, it is?” you weren’t able to mask the surprised look you had on your visage. what a coincidence.

“yes,” he said with a nod. “and i also do the thing you do. the cake that says ‘happy birthday to me’ i mean.”

that one didn’t come off as a shock to you. with how he mentioned that his family was busy most of the time, he’d probably have it the same with you. without much thought, you reached for the paper bag that contained the plushies you’ve bought earlier. you pulled one of it out and handed it over to him. “happy birthday, jungmo.”

an adorable pout decorated his lips after you gave him a ‘gift’ as though he was sulking upon receiving it. “that’s unfair, i don’t even have a gift for you.”  

you simply smiled. little did he know that his company was enough as a birthday present. “it’s not. thank you, jungmo.”

before parting ways, jungmo made sure to get you another cake that had the same note as the icing. he thought that maybe even after celebrating it with him, you’d want to still do it alone. the tulips and some other flowers wrapped to craft a bouquet was also given to you. you never imagined this would be how your birthday end. no complaints though, it was the best birthday you had by far.

and it was probably the best one jungmo ever had as well.

[thiswasinevitableid]

this isn't a real mermay prompt, but if the mood strikes you: indulgent supernatural sugar daddy indrid? roleplaying that he's finally reached the limit of his patience for duck's teasing and now he's going to tie him to the bed and use him however he sees fit

Here you go! I riffed on something we discussed on the discord. CW for mentions of stripping, blood and booze, the roleplay could be read as dubcon but it's clear what they're doing and that everyone is consenting and enjoying themselves. After care is show.

“Damn, guess they ain’t kiddin when they say it’s the city that never sleeps.” Duck stares from the window of their suite onto the flashing neon and 11 pm traffic of the Las Vegas strip.

“I thought that was New York City?” Indrid looks up from where he’s laying their dinner out on the shiny black table.

“Maybe? I dunno, only ever been there once, on a trip with my folks as a kid.” Duck slides into his chair across from his grinning boyfriend. They picked up a massive spread of food earlier tonight, their friend Barclay having lots of intel on the best food in the city and the affection for them to write out a detailed list where to try.

Indrid grabs a pill from his bag on the bathroom counter, then settles across from Duck with an excited grin, “There, now I can dine without fear.”

They’re well into dessert when Indrid wipes his lips with a thoughtful hum.

“You know, sweet one, this never silent, ever bright environment lends itself well to certain activities.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck leans across the table to take his hand.

“I have more details that we can discuss while we digest, but to begin; how do you feel about dressing like the loudest man on a college campus for the night?”

---------------------------------------

Duck strides into the main floor of the Wynn, the industrial strength air conditioner practically sending him into shock after the heat of the pavement and desert air.

En route to the agreed upon Blackjack table, he makes eye contact with his reflection in a bank of windows. Only the flip flops were in his suitcase when they arrived; the mint green muscle tank and khaki shorts came from the nearest thrift store. He picked up special underwear once he and Indrid separated, suspecting it will make his boyfriend laugh. He loves making him laugh, even during their most intense scenes.

He gets his chips, his seat, and his hand within ten minutes, signaling a waiter for a screwdriver. God only knows why, but it feels like what this kind of guy would order on a Saturday afternoon. Duck’s decent at Blackjack; Juno taught him how to play and Ned helped him refine his technique. So he’s holding his own when a new player sits down two stools to his right.

“I intend to play the eccentric millionaire.”

When Indrid uttered that sentence, Duck pictured a slight variation on his usual evening wear; the suit he brings on trips just so he can take Duck out for nice meals without--as happened on one occasion-- being forced to borrow a jacket from a waiter.

He was not expecting this.

Indrid’s suit is jet black, blood-red lining flashing when he unbuttons his coat. His usual red glasses perch on his nose, and he’s done something to his hair that renders it sleek rather than it’s usual silvery tangle. His back is straight, his smile wide, and his manners pure perfection.

“May I join on the next hand?”

“One sparkling water please. Do add on a nice tip for yourself, won’t you?”

“Twenty! Oh, how delightful.”

Indrid wins more than he loses, careful to go over or come too far under enough times to avoid accusations of counting cards. Duck’s stack of chips dwindles, and he directs his frustration at this fact towards Indrid, muttering unkind things whenever the older man says, “hit me.”

When he’s down to thirty bucks, he taps out. Pushes back from the table with the huff of a man who’s used to getting what he wants. He finds the nearest bar and takes a small table for himself.

The chair across from him doesn’t stay vacant long.

“Hello.” Indrid folds his hands on the table, smiling pleasantly.

“What the fuck do you want?” Duck grumbles.

“To see if you were alright. You seemed rather upset when you left the table.”

“Ain’t upset, I’m fuckin broke. Came to vegas to get laid and get rich and I’m strikin out on both so far.”

“Perhaps I can help. I, ah, we are both here alone. Why don’t we keep each other company? Two bachelors taking on the city.” Indrid gives a very awkward “ta-dah” with his fingers.

“Dunno, I don’t really feel like slummin.”

“You won’t be. I promise.”

Duck leans back in his chair, arms crossed, “Oh yeah?”

A knife-edge enters Indrid’s smile, only to be covered by a menu, “Let me buy you lunch as proof. Order whatever you like.”

He calls the older man’s bluff by ordering a craft beer, the most expensive burger on the menu, and three appetizers, only to discover it was not, in fact, a bluff. Indrid pays for everything without so much as glancing at the prices.

“There now” he smiles at Duck as the waiter clears his leftover steak (“as rare as possible, please”), “have I proven myself a worthy companion?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Excellent” Indrid claps his hands together, “then let us see what else this town has to offer.”

While they digest they peruse the malls and casino hop wherever there are shaded routes that allow them to do so. As they’re maneuvering through the throng near the aquarium, Indrid says, “tell me a bit about yourself, Duck. Nono, wait, let me guess; southern prep school, expensive college, a family very happy to support you while you search for your place in the world?”

Duck nods (the only ways he’s able to lie during their scenes).

“I certainly hope you didn’t burn through your trust fund playing the slots.” Indrid elbows him playfully.

“Nah. Set myself a limit for what I could spend gamblin each day.”

“Clever young thing.”

“Indrid, how old do you think I am?”

“Thirty?”

“Thirty-six.”

The crowd presses them closer together as Indrid murmurs, “You don’t look it.”

“If we’re goin for personal questions, how old are you?”

“Oh, a bit older than yourself.” Indrid replies breezily, “ooh, look, rays!”

When the thermometer flashing in-between advertisements for Lady Gaga and The Osmonds cracks a hundred, Indrid ushers Duck to the indoor pool at their hotel. His new companion lounges in a reserved cabana while Duck soaks in the cool water, other swimmers floating past him or propping themselves on the edges to talk with their partners.

And every time he surfaces, he feels a red tinted gaze watching him. His new friend isn’t even trying to hide it, flat out ogles him whenever he’s in shallow water. Duck’s far from the youngest or most ripped guy here, but Indrid’s eyes never stray. It’s flattering.

It also makes sinking further into his role as easy as slipping into the deep end.

If the rich weirdo wants to buy him fancy shit because Duck is hot, he can knock himself out. It’s not like Duck has to fuck him. But teasing him might get him even more free drinks and expensive souvenirs. If he plays his cards right, he won’t pay for a single thing the rest of his trip.

He hops out of the pool, takes his time drying off and stretching before laying on his belly on the swanky deck chair, facing the opposite direction Indrid is to give the other man a better view of his ass.

“Where to next?” He tries for a purr and only succeeds at exaggerating his drawl.

Indrid’s smile widens all the same, “I have a few ideas. But let’s linger here a bit longer.”

After that he stays as close to the other man as he can, let’s their shoulders bump and fingers brush as they make the rounds for some pre-dinner drinks. He even whispers a flirtatious word or two, makes Indrid blush when he orders a drink called “silver fox,” looks him dead in the eyes and grins, “my favorite.”

He’s plenty tipsy when Indrid steers them into a hallway where bass shakes the floor and pink light disguises the cracks in the walls.

“Can’t say you’ve been to Vegas unless you’ve seen a little sin.” Is all the explanation given before the doors open on a two story strip club.

“Holy fuck.” Duck lets Indrid shepherd him to a stage where several men with abs that look painted on play at fucking the air, the stage, and each other, much to the delight of the two bachelorette parties and the single men dotting the audience.

“You’re a fuckin genius.” Duck growls, sitting when Indrid pushes down on his shoulder. The older man takes the seat to his left, watching the proceedings with polite detachment. He orders a cocktail for Duck and water for himself.

In spite of his apparent disinterest, the dancers all come to Indrid, one after the other. In theory, some of them should pass by Duck afterwards. But they all go right back to the stage or to other patrons. The few times one even looks at him, their eyes immediately slide away onto Indrid.

The fact the other man is handing out fifties and hundreds like they’re singles probably helps.

A tall brunette is currently in Indrid’s lap, and the silver-haired man whispers something and points at Duck.

Suddenly there is a very hot man in a glorified thong in his lap, who gives him a vaseline slick smile, “Your friend over there bought you a dance.”

Indrid waves, the movement grating on Ducks pride. He glares in response.

The older man calls “you looked lonely.”

“I don’t need your fuckin charity.”

Indrid cocks his head, then shrugs, “very well. Please come back here, for double the tip.” He holds up three hundred-dollar bills. The instant the dancer is out of his lap, Duck stands and stomps out, swaying more than when he came in.

The onset of evening has worsened the crowds. He slogs and weaves through them with every intention of getting back to his room, ordering room service, and bandaging his scraped ego

“Why so down, Duck?”

“Fuck! Jesus, let a guy walk in peace will you?” Duck snaps as Indrid falls into step beside him.

“We're on the strip, there's no peace here. No quiet either. Makes it easy to do what one wants.”

Cool fingers find Duck’s wrist, keeping him from breaking ahead to the crosswalk. As they stand and watch the cars and buses roar by, Indrid murmurs, “How about a little friendly game as an apology?”

“Better not be fuckin blackjack.”

“Nono, I’m thinking Poker. If you win, you win bragging rights and whatever else you like that I can give you. But if I win...you have to walk me back to my room. I’ll still buy all the drinks, of course.”

Neon glints off a fang Duck pretends not to see.

“Fuck it, sure. I'm gonna wipe the table with you, old man.”

“I look forward to it.”

In spite of Indrid making good on his promise of drinks, Duck only has one Whiskey Sour before switching to water; being full-on drunk would make him worse at Poker, something he’s complete crap at on the best days. Figures Indrid would choose a game where bluffing is key.”

His card shark of a companion is beating him, and everyone else at the table, soundly. He also declines any food or drinks for himself. After two hours of play and countless hands of defeat, Duck surrenders. Indrid preens, tips their dealer, and wishes everyone else at the table a good night.

---------------------------------------

“Why are we takin the stairs to the top floor?” Duck stares up the winding flights, unable to see their stopping point.

“It’s good for one’s health. And it’s, ah, far more private.”

“Why do you need privacy gettin to your room.”

The footsteps behind him stop as they reach the next landing.

“Simple. I'm hungry.”

Duck whirls just in time to catch Indrid as he lunges at him, fangs bared. It turns out to be a useless movement, the vampire trapping him in a corner effortlessly.

“What the fuck, fuckin let me go.” Duck hisses.

Indrid licks a fang with a thoughtful hum, “I can, though it comes with its own risks.” He sighs, put upon, “But you have been such pleasant company, I suppose it’s only fair to give you a choice. If you let me feed now, I shall be as gentle as I can be and only take a little. Or you can take your chances at outrunning me. However, should I still catch you, then I will take as much blood--and whatever else I like--as I please.” He brushes their noses together, “It’s up to you, sweet one.”

Duck takes a deep breath, the game fading while Indrid gives him time to decide how he wants to play.

Then Duck shoves Indrid away from him and bolts through the nearby door, running down the maze of corridors until he finds his salvation. Indrid’s laugh is still ringing in his ears when the elevator door finally closes.

When the ding announces his floor, he pokes his head out like a prairie dog watching for a hawk. No sign of the vampire. He comforts himself with that though, and with the fact that there’s no way Indrid could catch up to him now, as he click his keycard into the lock.

He shuts the door and reaches for the light switch.

Chilly fingers circle his wrist.

“I win.”

Duck is dragged, then carried, through the darkness, the light not clicking on until he’s tossed onto the bed. Indrid stands at his side, grinning hungrily.

“W-wait, fuck, please, I, how’d you-”

“Quiet.” Indrid tosses his jacket on the floor, straddles Duck with fangs unashamedly on display. Duck whimpers, tries to curl in and protect his throat. Indrid noses at it all the same, “don't worry you spoiled excuse for a man, it won't hurt too much.”

“‘Drid” Duck gasps, tipping his head automatically at the purr in the vampires voice.

Cool lips tenderly meet his own, “Indulge me a bit longer?’

“Hell yeah I will, sugar.” Out of habit, he guides Indrid’s glasses off and sets them out of crushing range, “Uh. Please, my dad is real fuckin wealthy, I'll pay you whatever you want?”

Indrid traces a sharp fingernail along Duck’s collarbone, “What I want is you. All those years getting what you demanded, not lifting a finger, you'll taste very rich.”

“Please don't kill me.” Duck can feel himself getting harder whenever teeth brush his skin.

The vampire cups his cheek, “Not a chance. I need to eat often, after all. And you're perfect to be my new pet. Spoiled, handsome, and no one will miss you.”

“Fuck you” Duck kicks weakly at Indrid’s ankle.

Indrid tuts, “Do I need to tie you down? I could hold you down easily, but I need my hands free to cover that sinful mouth and enjoy this lovely body while I feed.”

“N-no, no I’ll be good, I’llAAH!” His whole body tenses as fangs pierce his neck. He wants to cry out more but it’s perilous, might make him jerk away and tear the skin. But his body has to do something to release the tension, or the taught coils that replaced his muscles might snap and leave him in pieces.

He’s saved by a rush of pleasure melting every tendon, caressing every nerve into calm. Duck sinks into the bed, his body registering the suck of Indrid feeding but feeling no need to intervene. The vampires right hand creeps down to hold Duck’s left, his satisfied hum setting arousal buzzing in his chest.

Duck only realizes he’s been slowly grinding on Indrid’s slacks when the other man laughs, muffled and bloody. The vampire raises his head, lapping at the wounds so not a drop is wasted, “greedy boy. Even when you're dinner you think your pleasure deserves priority.”

“Please.” He wants his teeth in his neck forever, he wants his fingers and tongue between his legs every night.

Indrid kisses the wounds, sits up while daintily wiping his mouth with his shirt-sleeve, staining the starched white with red, “Delectable. Don't go anywhere, pet.”

“Not your fucking pet.” Wooziness pulls any teeth left in his tone, “and, and I thought you wanted me up here cause you were hungry. Now you ain’t. So, so I can go.”

“Oh no, that” he points to the marks on Duck’s neck, “was because I was hungry. The rest of tonight is happening because of your endless teasing.”

“I, uh, I don’t-” Duck turns bright pink.

“You were rather obvious. And silly me, indulging you because of your charms. Well, now it’s time to show me how grateful you are. Let me just slip into something a bit more comfortable.”

Indrid snaps his fingers. Reality gives a sickening crack. Then a mothman stands at the foot of the bed, feathers of soft browns rustling as he stretches his wings. He doesn’t have mandibles, but when he yawns it reveals rows of sharp teeth, the two where his human canines would be noticeably longer than the rest.

“Much better.”

Duck yelps, scrambles back into the headboard as Indrid dives onto the bed.

“Ah-ah” Indrid pins his arms and thighs to the bed with his four hands, “we had an agreement, little one. I get to do whatever I wish to you because you lost. And, more importantly” a long tongue drags up Duck’s cheek, “because that is how spoiled little humans earn their keep.”

“Oh god.” Is all Duck gets out before claws rip his shirt and shorts to colorful pieces. Indrid tips him sideways to finish mauling his shorts and pauses.

“What in the-” the vampire flips him onto his belly, stifles a giggle, “‘Bite me? Rather fitting underwear choice.”

“Thanks” Duck smirks into the blanket.

“Well, since I find myself incapable of denying you things, pet…” reality cracks once more.

“Wh-AHFUCK!” He yanks the nearest pillow over to muffle his cries as Indrid sinks his human fangs into the meat of Duck’s ass. It’s a different kind of pain, not as heart-pounding but just as fun. Indrid isn’t feeding, so he bites down only a few seconds before lifting his head to target another patch of skin. He doesn’t let up until Duck sobs his name into a silk pillow.

The vampire pulls back, but keeps Duck on his forearms and knees as he kisses a curve from his lower back to one of the innermost bite marks. Another shift and claws prick his legs.

“Mmmm, I can smell how turned on you are. I wonder….”

“Fuck, ohfuck” Duck pushes his hips back as Indrid’s tongue infurls down to tease his folds, “Indrid, please, please fuck me like that.”

“‘Ike ‘is?” The tongue presses in, thrusting lazily and without much pressure.

“Yes but, fuck, but more.”

A growl and Duck is slammed onto his back, Indrid looming over him with his wings outspread, “Have you forgotten the purpose of this evening?”

“No.” He stares up into red eyes, too turned on to be sheepish.

“Then why do you keep making demands? You have spent all day asking things of me and now it is time to show me why I tolerate such behavior.” He grabs Duck’s knees, holds them up and open with his lower arms, and purrs, “though there’s no denying your appeal from this angle.”

“Fuck yeah.” Duck fists the blanket in anticipation as Indrid adjusts them to put his head between the human’s legs. Indrid’s tongue caresses his dick, filling the room with slick, obscene sounds.

Then searing pain flashes through his left thigh as Indrid sinks the fangs of his form into it.

“FUCK! I, I thought, moths don’t-”

“Vampire moths do.” Indrid grins before smearing a line of red on Duck’s skin, “and I intend to drink my fill.”

Duck yelps again, slams a hand over his mouth when he remembers there’s two other suites on this floor.

“Be as loud as you like; I cast a little spell on this room to make sure no one hears what I’m doing to my new pet.” He thrusts his tongue into Duck without warning, fucking him on it until he’s bucking his hips, then pulling out to lap and suck at his thigh. When he next returns to sucking Duck’s dick, the feathers around his mouth are as red as his eyes.

Heat builds in Duck’s gut at the sight and he moans, “‘Drid, please, I’m so close to cummin just from this, please just let me cum.”

“Absolutely not.” Indrid drops his legs, dragging him into his lap with a hiss, “you have still not learned your lesson. You think you can get whatever you want just by looking sweetly at me. You’re so very wrong.” His upper arms trap Duck’s own behind his back while his lower set prick his hips, “now be a good pet and keep your legs open.”

Duck doesn’t get a chance to ask why; a cock, covered in vertical ridges with a very thick tip, shoves halfway into him.

“Mmmm, that’s lovely.” Indrid thrusts hurriedly, “now I remember why I put up with your demands all day. Spoiled though you may be, I’ve never had someone fit my cock so well. Ohhhhh” he opens his wings, grinning, “someone likes that.”

“Like you, fuck, Indrid, I swear I wasn’t, uh, wasn’t not teasing, no, fuck FUCKfuck” He takes as much as he can in one thrust, the last third still pulsing outside his body.

“Don’t lie, sweet human. I know you let me spoil you endlessly, teased me mercilessly all day, all while thinking you would spend your evening asleep and alone, rather than where you belong.”

Duck whimpers as his thighs fight to keep up the pace. They give out a moment later but nothing happens; Indrid’s grip on his hips is so strong he’s moving him without help.

“Fuck that’s so fuckin good.”

Indrid flutters his wings “You see how easily I control you, sweet one? You may be strong and handsome, but at the end of the day you’re nothing more than a toy for me to use and discard as I please.”

He whines at that, let’s himself go limp so it’s easier to hide his face in Indrid’s fluff.

“Don’t worry, pet, I shall not discard you. As I said, you are perfect for me, a lovely little gift to myself after a day spent giving them to you.” The hands restraining his arms let go and he instantly wraps them as far around the vampire as he can. Then clawed fingers gingerly stroke his dick. He groans out a thank you and Indrid laughs.

“Oh no, this isn’t for you. I just find that humans taste even better during orgasm.”

Any noise Duck makes in reply is drowned out in fluff and Indrids high, trilling moans as he sinks his teeth into his neck. Duck thrashes helplessly as his orgasm burns out his veins and muscles, leaving a melted man in its wake.

“Perfection” Indrid purrs, licking at the bite to close it as he grunts and pumps his hips, “my spoiled little human is finally worth something OHyesss, yes.” He holds a squirming Duck down on his cock as his spurts into him, the human unable to do anything but cling to him and moan his name.

A sweet voice lilts in Ducks ear, “if you ever forget what you’re for, or dare to tease me so again, I will strap you down in my lap and fill you until it sloshes.”

Duck nods to show he heard, but only gets through half the movement before wincing.

“Oh, oh dear, is the bite too big?”

“N-no, think, think it’s just real sore. You bit hard both times.”

“Let me look to be certain...yes, you’re right, the wounds are the usual size. Come, let’s get you in a bath at once.”

The next thing he knows, spindly arms lower him into the fancy jacuzzi. Indrid chirps over him, telling him how wonderful he is, how well he did, promising to fetch him anything he desires for dinner, all while bandaging the bigger marks and scrubbing blood from his chest. When the vampire is satisfied with his efforts, he takes his human form and joins Duck in the tub. The human immediately waves him into his lap and guides him into a kiss.

“Insatiable thing.” Indrid purrs, nuzzling his cheek.

“Damn right. And you love me for it.”

“That I do.”

[let-me-luve-you]

T-Shirt Quilts

Jared Padalecki x Reader

Summary: Every year the SPN crew does Secret Santa and this year you get your best friends name.

Warnings: Secret feelings, fluff, if there is angst you have to squint to see it i think

Word Count: 2,190

@spnchristmasbingo​

MASTERLIST

SPN CHRISTMAS BINGO

You watched as Jessica, a PA, walked around carrying a basket with names on paper for the annual Secret Santa. You’ve been working on the set of Supernatural for a few months. You still didn’t know everyone so you were hoping you got someone you knew. 

Secretly you hoped it was Jared. You’ve had a huge crush on him since you guest starred last year on two episodes. You stayed in touch between your days on set last season to when you started a full time role this season. It helped that you both live in Austin. Jared quickly became your best friend over the months, but you still harbored those feelings.

Jessica walked up to you and smiled at you. ”Once you draw, let me know who you got so I can write it down. And don’t worry, us PAs have different bowls. My name is in another one.”

You smiled at her and reached into the bowl. You picked up a piece of paper and opened it. 

“I got myself?” You looked up at Jessica who was laughing.

“Put it back and draw again.” She said as her laughter died out. She held the bowl up to you once again. You put your hand back in the bowl and grabbed another paper.

You kept your face neutral as you read the name quietly to Jessica since the person you got was a few feet away. “Jared. I got Jared.” You smiled at Jessica as she smirked while writing his name down. Your heart was racing because you wanted to get him something special. More special than what you already have stored in your closet back in Austin.

Jared walked over to the both of you. Jessica smiled at him.

“Jared, have you drawn for the Secret Santa?” Jessica asked holding up the bowl. Jared shook his head. He reached into the bowl and smirked as he read the name. He turned to show Jessica and she smirked again as she was writing. “Well you guys have fun shooting your next scene. I’m off the rest of the day.”

“Bye Jessica. Merry Christmas.” Jared said. You smiled and hugged her as you wished her safe travels. Jared turned to look at you. “I have a few hours until I have to film again and I know for a fact you are here way to early since you are doing evening shoots. So would you like to accompany me to a movie and a nap in my trailer?” You laughed and nodded your head. 

That weekend you were walking around shops trying to get an idea for Jared when you walked past a craft store. You walked in just to see what they had. As you walked further into the store, you saw all the quilt supplies hanging on a wall and laying on shelves. An older woman approached you. 

“Hello dear, are you looking to make a quilt or are you looking to have one made?” She asked. 

“Um… I’m not sure.” You replied honestly. “I don’t even know what pattern I would want.” 

“Well let me just tell you more about what we do here so you can decide if you would like one. Holidays are coming up and it would be a lovely gift.” She led you towards the table that had a pamphlet on it. “We do patterns, we do quilt square patterns, and we do t-shirt quilts.”

“What are t-shirt quilts?” You asked genuinely confused. 

“They are quilts made out of t-shirts. We cut the shirt into a square and then we put them together like a quilt square pattern. And if you don’t have enough t-shirts to fill a complete quilt, you can add some fabric.”

You thought about all the Always Keep Fighting shirts Jared had given you over the summer. A few from every campaign he had done. Plus you had other Supernatural shirts based off of Sam you could add. “I think you just helped me figure out my Christmas gift for a friend. How long does it take you to make the quilt?”

Normally it would take us a while, but with the holiday season, we would have it done in a week.” She replied happily that she might have made a sale. 

“And what time do you close? I have some shirts I would like to turn into a quilt.” You said. “Do you do weighted quilts?”

“We do. It will cost you extra though.” She said. “And we close at nine tonight.” 

You smiled at her. You told her you would be back in a bit. Just had to run home to grab the shirts. She smiled and said she would be here to help you when you got back. 

You almost ran to your car to hurry. Jared was due to be at your apartment later that evening when you finished shopping. You didn’t want to risk him seeing you home and think it’s okay to come over. You ran into your room once you unlocked your apartment. Quickly opening your dresser, you grabbed one of each campaign. Then you went to the closet to grab the Supernatural shirt. You locked your apartment and rushed back to the shop. 

“I’m back.” You said smiling. Linda, the kind lady that helped you earlier led you to the quilting room to design the front of the quilt. After aligning the shirts how you wanted them, she led you to the fabric section to select something for the back. You smiled when you saw a plaid design that just screamed Sam Winchester. “I really like this. It matches the person who is getting this.”

Linda smiled at you as she saw your eyes light up thinking about the quilt and the person it was going to. “This will be a big quilt. Probably around six feet.”

“That’s perfect. The guy I’m getting this for is 6’4.” You said with a laugh. 

“I’m sure he will love it. I will give you a call when it is done.” Linda said. You smiled at her and left the store. 

Two weeks later you were carrying your wrapped box into the building where the SPN Christmas party was being held. You discarded your present and walked towards Jensen. 

“Hiya Jay!” You said. He turned and smiled at you. He wrapped you in a big hug.

“How’s my girl tonight?” He asked as he pulled away. 

“I’m doing good. How are you? Ready to see the family?” You asked back. 

“Better now that you're here.” You both laughed. “Of course I’m ready to see the family. It’s been a long week. Just glad I get to spend a few weeks with them without any interruptions.”

“I bet. I can��t wait to come see them on Christmas. I miss the little ones.” You said. You jumped as arms wrapped around you from behind. 

You relaxed when you heard, “I miss them too. I’m spoiling them. Nearly all the presents under my tree are for them.” Jared said. 

“Dang it Jared, I told you not to buy them anything.” Jensen said annoyed. But you noticed he wasn’t too annoyed based off the smile on his face. 

“Okay guys. We have the presents to hand out, so please grab a seat.” You heard of the sound system, which stopped Jared from replying to Jensen. 

Presents were being handed out by the PAs that did the drawings. Jessica handed you and Jared presents with a smirk before she turned to Jensen and handed him his. 

Jared laughed as he felt how heavy his was. “Someone went all out this year. Or I got bricks. Not sure.” Jensen laughed in response. 

You noticed Jared was side eyeing you as you were side eyeing him. You were nervous to see his reaction. When given the signal to open the gifts, you slowly opened yours as you also watched Jared. Jared ripped into the present. He pulled the quilt out and stood up to unfold it so he could observe the whole thing. 

“Oh my gosh.” You heard him whisper. You looked up to see tears in his eyes. Jensen looked up when he heard his best friend. 

“What is it?” Jensen asked. Jared turned the quilt so Jensen could see the Always Keep Fighting shirts lining the front. “Looks like there’s a note with it.” 

Whenever anxiety gets the worst of you, remember to Always Keep Fighting. This is your fighting blanket. It is a 20 pound weighted quilt to help you calm down when you feel like you’re out of control. Thank you for being the best role model for people around you and the people around the world. You deserve the world Jared. AKF

Jared read the note out loud. Jensen smiled and started tearing up too. He knew the battles Jared had and he was touched by the person who gave Jared this gift. 

You smiled at the two of the gushing over the quilt. You finally turned towards your gift and opened it. You pulled out a photo album. It had a picture of you, Jared, Jensen, Misha, and Alex on the cover. You flicked through the pictures. Some were cellphone pictures of you with the crew and cast, some were behind the scenes photos taken by the on set photographer, and some were from conventions. Each page had a quote on it and each quote related to the photos on those pages. You were amazed by the work someone put into your gift. 

As you continued to look through the photos. Jensen and Jared smiled at you. Jared noticed your tears building and sat by you to look through the picture with you. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed his handwriting yet. 

“This year we decided to let each other know their Secret Santa now instead of waiting a few days. So please go find your person.” Bob announced over the system. 

You looked at Jared as he looked at you. 

“Do you like it?” Jared asked. 

“I love it. This gift is beautiful. Did you do this?” You asked him. He nodded his head. You smiled bigger. “I will cherish it forever. Thank you.”

“Did you see the last couple of pages?” You shook your head no and Jared flipped to the pages for you. You noticed the majority of them from your time during the summer with him. Some you didn’t recognize. You smiled as you thought these were pictures Jared snuck of you. 

“You really are amazing Jared, thank you.” You said giving him a hug. Letting it go on longer than normal. 

“Did you get me the quilt?” He asked. You nodded. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. What made you think to do that.”

“Was shopping around and Linda, the one who made it, gave me the idea.” You said. “I was worried you wouldn’t like it. I didn’t figure you would want a blanket for Christmas.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the best. I love it. I’m going to use it all the time. Why make it weighted though?”

“Weighted blankets are supposed to help when you feel anxious. It’s supposed to help make you feel grounded. Figure you would need that when things get overwhelming.” You said. Jared smiled at you. 

Little to yours and Jared’s knowledge, you were being watched by everyone. They had set you guys up to get each other. Hoping you would both admit your feelings to one another. 

“Y/N, can I tell you something.” You nodded at the taller man.”Seeing this blanket and seeing how much thought you put into it makes me have to tell you this today. I can’t hold it back anymore.” 

“Okay. What is it?” You asked. 

“I like you Y/N. I have since you guest starred.” He said nervously. 

“Well I wish you would have said something sooner, because I feel the same.” You said back. 

“Really?” You nodded. “Since you guest starred?” You nodded once again. “You could have said something too, you know.” You laughed and leaned towards him. Jared pushed a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in. His lips just hovering over yours. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You whispered so quietly, Jared wasn’t sure he heard you. He leaned forward and finally connected your lips in a soft kiss. 

The room erupted in cheers. You both pulled away, remembering your surroundings. 

“About time you two.” Jensen said. “If all we had to do was make you secret Santa partners, we should have done that a long time ago.”

“You guys planned this?” You asked. 

Jensen nodded, “Yeah. I was the one that mentioned it because I was sick of hearing about your feelings for one another but neither of you telling each other. 

Jared laughed as he pulled you closer, as everyone else went back to their conversations. Jensen silently watched his best friend and someone who is becoming like a sister to him. 

“I’m kind of embarrassed.” You whispered to Jared. 

“Don't be.” He said looking you in the eyes. He gently grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his. “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

[rosy-wooyoung]

He needs someone | Park Seonghwa

Words count: 3.3k whoops Pairing: kindergarten teacher! reader x police officer!, single dad! Seonghwa Genre: F L U F F and a squint of angst once A/N: I tried my best, it’s a concept I had in mind for a while and I’m glad I managed to write something :’) I’m sorry in advance if you notice mistakes, English isn’t my first language but at least I tried, right? The gif isn’t mine as usual, all the credits go to the talented creator :)

The first day of the week was coming to an end and you were happy. You loved your job, really, it was a real pleasure to get up in the morning and take care of adorable children your students. They were nice, polite, you had to raise your voice from time to time for the order to come back, but it was rare. However, the past few days were more of a chore than a pleasure, because you were worried about one student in particular. His name was Haneul. He was a 5-year old boy full of energy, kindness and the politest of all your students. Already at his age, he was altruistic, always ready to play with others or help you tidy up things that weren't necessarily his. Despite his good attitude and politeness, you noticed that he was missing something, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Until one afternoon, when you left school, it struck you.

He was one of the few students who didn't have two parents. Yes, some had two mothers or two dads, or their divorced parents came to pick them up each in turn, but for Haneul, everything seemed different. It was always his father who came to pick him up or his grandmother, but it was very rare. You were beginning to question yourself, wondering if Haneul had a mother or other relative that took care of him except for his father. Perhaps his mother was seriously ill, or even dead. You had noticed several times where Haneul was in a bad mood, especially when you asked your students what they had done during the weekend. It was a ritual that you did every Monday morning and many children were talking about their parents. Haneul was always silent during these kinds of moments. Unable to give special treatment, you also asked him questions, especially about the toy cars he loved to take to school, and you tried to get him to talk about his father most of the time. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable or cry in front of the other students, so you carefully avoided the mom's subject.

You were in the school playground, chatting with another teacher to look after the children who were waiting for their parents. It was rush hour, everyone was out of work and the traffic was very heavy, which caused most of the delays for parents. When you noticed Haneul’s father, you excused yourself to your colleague, took the boy’s little hand and walked towards the man. You couldn't lie, his father is a charismatic man. Whenever he entered the yard, single mothers - and sometimes even some married women, in the presence of their husbands - stared at him. He exuded a certain class and a form of serenity which reassured everyone. Maybe it was his uniform that provided that kind of emotion. Yes, his father was a policeman. You have seen him repeatedly patrolling the city or your neighbourhood, even sometimes waiting for his son in his car. At first glance, his life seemed to be devoted to bringing order within the city, but really, it revolved solely around his son. His serious and distant mask fell every time his son ran into his arms or showed him a craft he did in class. He was also one of the few parents who wrote you a kind note for Christmas to thank you for your hard work and it touched you.

When you reached Haneul's father with him, a veil of concern crossed the eyes of the man standing in front of you. He seemed worried and had walked much less assuredly than the other times that you had seen him. "Good evening ma'am. Thanks for calling me. Has Haneul not behaved well?" He questioned as his son, oblivious to the situation, jumped into his arms, kissing his dad’s cheek. "No, your son is a remarkable little boy, full of goodwill and very polite, but there is a delicate subject that concerns him which I would like to talk with you if you would like." The policeman looked at his son and put him on the ground before nodding. "Haneul," he said, crouching down next to his son, "will you play with your friends for a while? I need to speak with your teacher for a few minutes, it won't be long, okay?" Haneul nodded without hesitation and left to replay with his friends, running towards them. "I'm listening," his voice was hesitant, but he tried to keep a neutral expression. "First, I want to tell you that you don't have to answer or take into account what I'm going to tell you, and this is by no means a psychological diagnosis, just an observation me, his teacher." He nodded, a sign for you to continue. "Well, I have a tradition every Monday morning of asking certain students to tell us about their weekend, it's mainly to encourage them to speak in front of others, but the more this discussion advances in the morning, the more I see your child withdrawing into himself, sometimes he's even on the verge of tears when one of his classmates mentions their mother."

The policeman didn't seem shocked by your statement, but your words didn't leave him indifferent. He said nothing but looked behind you, carefully avoiding your gaze. "I don't want to interfere in your private life, but I have always wondered if Haneul had another parental figure beside you because he looks like he wants one…" He sighed as your voice trailed. "But aside from this little detail, Haneul is a golden child, he's always ready to stop arguments or help me tidy up, his education is remarkable, it's also something I wanted to tell you." You were trying to save yourself from embarrassment, given his lack of reaction, and his smile returned when you complimented his son, but it was not as warm as usual. You knew that you had touched a sensitive point and you had decided to cut short the discussion to not make it more uncomfortable. He already seemed pained enough like that, so you motioned for Haneul to come back to his father. "I'm sorry officer, but I have a few more things to do in class, I wish you a very good evening." You smiled at him and he greeted you with a brief whim and an almost inaudible "thank you".

By putting away the last chairs, you deeply regretted your words. It was none of your business, but Haneul's situation gave your heart a twinge. You were thinking of a softer way to approach the subject again, but you could not find any other solution. You didn't sleep much that night, bitterly regretting the discussion.

What did you have to pry in things that were none of your business?

The two days following this discussion were painful because the policeman did not come to pick up Haneul, it was his grandmother. You were almost ready to ask Haneul for his address to go and apologize to his father. Thursday afternoon was finally the day he decided to reappear. When you saw him again, you rushed inside, leaving your colleague alone in the school playground. You pretended to put the tables and chairs back in their place if he looked through the windows. Wanting to give him enough time to leave, you filled the kettle with water and heated it on its base. "Can I speak to you?" A throat clears which startled you, almost making you drop the kettle. You turned around and found the policeman in the doorway. He was not wearing his uniform, but his aura of authority and confidence was still there. "Yes, but I-" "No, don't apologize." "Please, let me. I wanted to apologize, I got involved in things that were none of my business. I was so mad at myself that I haven't slept well for the last few days." "Yes, Haneul told me you weren't as energetic as usual, but don't worry about me. Your words had the effect of a cold shower and I believe it was necessary." He said with a soft smile, scratching the back of his neck. You nodded, gesturing him to take your chair as you sat on one of the tables, keeping a reasonable distance. "I thought my mother and I would be enough for Haneul's education. His... well, his mother left us when he was two years old. When we learnt that we were expecting a baby, we made an agreement together. I promised to reduce my time at work to take care of her and Haneul. However, nothing went according to plan and I ended up working almost twice more. I was terrified that I would not have enough money to support them and because I didn't keep my promise to my girlfriend, she left. I thought she was going to get away with the situation because she was very independent, but it was only after she left me that I realized that she needed me." He paused, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "After your statement, I said to myself that I should try to get her back, even if the two of us wasn't going to work, we could at least try for Haneul, but it's too late. I saw her in the store where I regularly grocery shop. She was with another man and she seemed much happier and more radiant than when she was with me. I simply greeted her, but I couldn't see myself begging her to come back in front of her new boyfriend. I know I fucked up and I regret it now, but I don't know what else I can do." You got up and turned off the kettle, pouring the hot liquid into two cups. You handed him one and leaned against your desk. "I understand that you are in a difficult situation, but now it's too late to get your ex back, that is clear. She moved on but it’s human, you also did it by busying yourself at work, according to what you're telling me. She is certainly mad at you and that is normal, I also understand her reaction, but you must start looking elsewhere, or even around you." "I talked to Haneul about it, and he admitted he missed having a mom. But you know, there aren't many people out there who want to go out with a policeman, so if he also has a child, it's complicated. And I assure you, I tried, I really tried, but they all left as soon as I mentioned my son. Selfishly, I prefer that Haneul does not have a mother rather than having one who does not love him. I need someone who loves me and him." "I understand, he is a part of you. You know, it was just a statement, I never ordered you to look for someone, you must not misunderstand my words. If you feel that you and your mother are enough for the education of your son, then you must follow your gut. But I remain in my position that your little one needs a maternal figure. Otherwise, growing up, he will no longer distinguish his mother from his grandmother, since it will be the same figure, you see?" The discussion was coming to an end, but the officer didn't seem to ready to leave. His gaze was lost into the void and he sipped on his tea. Suddenly, he regained his senses, gulped the remaining of his cup and put it in the sink. He smiled at you and held out his hand for you to squeeze. "My name is Park Seonghwa. Officer Park Seonghwa. And thank you for being so kind to my son, he loves you and it's nice not having to fight to get him out of bed." You blushed at his compliments and squeezed his hand, his grip not as hard as you thought it was going to be. It was firm but had nothing dominant or aggressive. "Y/L/N Y/N, I'm glad your son is having fun coming here, I'm trying to do everything for it. " "And... thank you for listening to me, because you really didn't have to. I think I needed to tell someone neutral. You know, parents are never very objective,” he said, not letting go of your hand. "I'm glad to have helped you, officer... And again, sorry for my mistake, I was just worried about Haneul." "This is a closed matter now, Y/N, don't worry about it anymore. Have a safe trip back home. Good night." You smiled at him and saw him leave with Haneul. Through the window, he greeted you with a wave which you answered with a slight smile.

The weekend had finally arrived, and you wanted to go for a walk in the park. The heat of May allowed you to go out only wearing a big sweater above your casual dress, a light scarf protecting your throat from the light wind. You sat on a bench and took out a book, adjusting your sunglasses and crossing your legs. Later, a group of eight adults with a child settled under the weeping willow, located a few meters from you, in the grass. Your vision wasn't the best, you squinted because you seemed to recognize Haneul. He also seemed to have recognized you because he pulled the sleeve of a man you immediately acknowledged: Seonghwa. He looked up and smiled at you, his son pulling him in your direction. You put your book down and watched, amused by the situation. The rest of the group was looking either at the father or you, which made you bright red. Seonghwa crouched and whispered something in his son's ear. A smile lit up his face and sprinted towards your bench.

"Hi Haneul, how are you?" "Hello, Teacher! I’m okay!! You are alone?" He asked, tilting his small head. "Yes, I'm enjoying the nice weather." "Daddy would like to know if you want to come and join us..." You smiled at the kid and looked up at Seonghwa. He had a tender smile on his face and Haneul pulled you from your seat by grabbing your hand. You laughed and gathered your things, Haneul running to his father.

Seonghwa greeted you and introduced you to the rest of the group, his colleagues. You weren't sure how to behave since they represented the law, but they were all lovely with you. Some asked you questions about your job and Haneul, including a man named Hongjoong, who you learnt was Haneul's godfather, who seemed fascinated by your work. Another colleague, Mingi, was very interested since his sister also worked as a teacher, but in their hometown. The rest of the day went by without problems, the group of police officers quickly put you at ease, abandoning the formalities. Clouds had formed and began to hide the sun, abruptly ending this wonderful day. When Wooyoung felt the first drops of water fall on his skin, you all hurried to pack up and take refuge in their cars. Haneul hadn't followed his father, he had run with Yunho in his car. You were soaking from head to toe, your sweater nowhere to be seen, your dress sticking to your body. You just hoped that your underwear was not showing through the wet material.

"You're beautiful." Seonghwa's deep voice rang out in the car and made you faced him. His hair fell in front of his face, droplets soaking his white t-shirt. Unlike his uniform, it gave you a good overview of his shoulders and his muscular torso. His eyes never left you, something had changed in them. You smiled, a bit embarrassed, watching the rain trickle down the windows, suddenly being very hot. A hand grabbed your chin and your face was now very close to Seonghwa's, his eyes lost in yours. Your heart was pounding, you were sure he could hear it, but you couldn't look beyond his beautiful eyes. Not when you had such a handsome officer in front of you. "May I?" He whispered, almost out of breath, his gaze moving back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. His expression was very intense, you could only accept. When his lips met yours, the tension in your shoulders disappeared and fireworks exploded in your stomach. You responded to the kiss immediately, surprising yourself, but it was too hard to resist. His lips were as soft as if you were kissing a chocolate coulis. The kiss was warm, intense, but filled with tenderness.

To your great disappointment, this tender exchange was shortened by someone knocking on Seonghwa's window. Yunho was there, an amused smile on his lips. You stopped the kiss, quickly pulling you away from Seonghwa's arms. You hadn't even realized in the kiss that he had embraced you, pressing you even more against him. You tried to catch your breath and Seonghwa lowered the window, embarrassed to have been surprised by his colleague. "Am I disturbing something?" Yunho said, refraining from laughing. "What do you want?" Seonghwa dryly replied, not amused by the situation at all. "I'm coming to bring your son back to you, I think he was in the wrong car. But to see what you were doing; I think I'll bring it back to me." "Shut up and bring him up to the back,” Seonghwa ordered. You had found back the police officer, strict and distant, as when he came to pick up his son.

When Yunho had fastened Haneul’s seatbelt and closed the car door, Seonghwa started the car and brought you home without saying a word, just a few glances exchanged on the way as well as apologetic smiles. When your resident building came into your range of vision, disappointment stung your heart. "Thanks for driving me back." You muttered, unsure how to behave with the little one in the back. "No problem." Seonghwa smiled, glancing into the rear-view mirror. Haneul was soundly sleeping and the policeman seized this chance to quickly connect your lips. "Ha! I knew it! Daddy loves Teacher Y/N!" Haneul's frail voice rang out in the car, scaring you both. You hurried out of the car and Seonghwa mouthed you to call him later. You entered the hall without turning around and you heard the car leave. "Daddy, do you like Teacher Y/N?" "Yes, kind of. " "Does that mean she's going to be my mom?" "Only if you want it." Seonghwa watched his son's reaction as the car came to a red light. The child had a neutral face, but he suddenly smiled with all his teeth and looked at his father in the rear-view mirror. "Yes!"

[rgr-pop]

pens:

the planner i got is an appointment calendar with small lines, best served by some kind of fineliner. i have various microns only in black, triplus fineliner, and stabilo point 88. the point 88s are my favorite of these to write with, and have my favorite shade range. it is very important for my organizing scheme to have serious color control! so i have purchased myself the 30 (!) pack of the 88s. the main downside of these is longevity, i think. i have gone through a few of those over the last two years. once i settle into this set, i may by myself some of the triplus fineliners in colors that i’m missing.

the pens i use most in my every day life are papermate flair felt tips. i have gone through a few of these in pinks and reds! i do not want to purchase a new set of these because i am only interested really in the pinks and reds, which i will replace individually whenever i can get to the craft store, along with the dark blue, which i like for work, and maybe a black.

the flairs are slightly too dark and bleeding for my planner now, its pages are thinner than average. going to lean into the neon point 88s, especially the “neon red” (040) shade, which is my second favorite pen of all pens. my other favorite point 88 shades are neon pink (056) and pink (56). i also really like their unique dark shades, like brown (45) and olive green (63) but i think if you want those murky, interesting darks and drabs, triplus fineliner has more and better options.

my very favorite pen of all is the red pentel sign pen. i would like a whole set of these, especially coveting the greens and oranges, but it will wait since i can’t use them in my planner (too inky) and they are somewhat pricy.

as for pens, i also quite like the papermate inkjoy, especially the pink. i use these pretty hard and might just buy a new sampler eventually. i’m no ballpoint hater! this pink pen is one of my signature daily writers, and might be another of my favorite pens :).

as for highlighters, i have a spread of japanese mildliner knockoffs in pastel neon, as well as the following zebra mildliners: smoke blue, mild vermillion, mild magenta, mild brown, mild lemon yellow or mild yellow i forget which, and mild green i think. i also have access at home and at work to various regular highlighters and intend to pick out the very best inky neon yellow one for daily use. i said i did not need more highlighters, but they are kind of important in my daily organizing!, i use them in my planner to block things off, and they’re useful because they are bold without bleeding through much. so i have some holes i could fill. i want to replace the mild gold mildliner i had which dried up, because all the yellows i have right now are very pale. i would also like something that goes with red, i am thinking mild red (which is a dusty dark rose i think) and mild coral pink. i am also drawn to mild gray and mild dark blue, and may just buy the set that has those. and i love mild citrus green. however, i also want a couple of stabilo boss finally! i haven’t decided how to optimize this decision, but they make a beautiful pastel aqua shade, which is not a shade i have because it’s not a shade i ever use, but it would go with all the greens and blues in my new pen set. most of their pastels are too washed out for me. i may get all their original and neon pinks and corals. they seem to have the most lipstick pink shades of anybody! 

[ellewritesathing]

Is It Love?

Summary: Demons don’t fall in love, do they? Especially not with pretty baristas that haven’t any interest in them ... right?

Word-count: 2.3k+

Masterlist

A/N: kinda crazy to think that Infernal is finished for now?? but you guys really love my fluffy clay boi so here’s some straight up fluff that is so sweet you might get a toothache tbh

Demons didn’t fall in love. Depending on who you ask, they didn’t feel emotions at all, but Caliban knew that wasn’t true. Demons felt everything so intensely that they became bored of it. They were volatile, oscillating between highs and lows at the blink of an eye. Demons were Molotov cocktails of emotion, just waiting for something to ignite them. 

And then you fucked everything up. 

No, you said, you wouldn’t go out with him because you had a strict policy against dating bad boys that had been in place since your first year of college. As if you knew anything about how bad he was. He took the rejection and his coffee with a smile, before walking out the door and stealing the first BMW he could find. 

Was it cliche? Yes. 

Did it make some very satisfying groans as the metal wrapped around a tree? Also yes. 

At the time, he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you’d said no to him. You were human. You weren’t even his type - just a pretty barista at the only cafe he could find that made his coffee strong enough without burning it. Maybe it was because the coffee only tasted right when you made it and he was just projecting. 

Maybe he was just full of shit.

Other than giving you his order, he didn’t say anything else to you for weeks. He was a demon but he wasn’t a prick after all. But one night, he was there later than usual, lost in the pages of his latest book, when you set a large to-go cup on his table. 

“Sorry, angel,” you said with a smile. It didn’t quite reach your tired eyes. “We’re closing now but here’s one to keep you warm out there.” 

“I must have lost track of time,” Caliban said as he closed the book and started to dig the wallet out of his jeans. 

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell my manager if you don’t,” you said, waving him off. Caliban tilted his head to the side and parted his lips to say something clever he had yet to come up with when you beat him to it. “You’re here all the time, Caliban. I think if we used punch cards you would’ve qualified for a free coffee a while ago.” 

“Well,” Caliban said. He had a funny feeling in his chest, and the worst part was that it didn’t make him feel like committing acts of vandalism. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; almost anything made him feel like vandalism. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” This time your smile did reach your eyes and you laughed to yourself before adding, “Literally, I guess.” 

The next time Caliban went to pick up his order, a little handmade punch card was waiting on top of his coffee for him, your handwriting scrawled over the top. Ten ridiculously overpriced cups of coffee later, and it was you and him alone in the coffee shop. He’d waited until the end of your shift, trying to get as close to that chance encounter of last week as he could. 

He held the punchcard between his index and middle finger as he flashed you a devilish smile. Catching your eye, he lowered the card to the counter and slid it across to you. “So what do I win?” 

“A free cup of closing shift coffee,” you said, turning to the machine and dipping your head to the side as you thought about something. “That you can drink here while I clean up, if you want.”

“A conversation with a pretty girl and a cup of coffee or the chilling walk back to my motorcycle.” Caliban pretended to think about it. “Whatever will I choose?”

You laughed from behind the counter and rolled your eyes. “Settle down there, James Dean.” 

Instead of trying to say something witty, Caliban obediently pulled a chair up to the counter. He watched as you worked, not minding the attention he gave you as you did. Hands quick and nimble, relying more on muscle memory than active thought to work the machine. 

Over one very strong, very black coffee, he learned that you’d never left Greendale but you were working at the coffee shop to save enough money to leave one day. You learned that he’d been all over, and your face lit up whenever he answered your questions the way you’d hoped. As you cleaned the machines and he swept the floor, he told you about his favorite books and you told him about yours. You talked about music and the best hypothetical name for an indie band that only wrote songs about caffeinated drinks. 

(The Transient Coffee Beans was your best pick, The Bland Bastards was his.)

The tightening in his chest when you locked up the store made him want to set something on fire. He didn’t like these feelings - they were insufferably human - and he needed to do something explosive to get rid of them, or at least that’s what he told himself when you turned to give him another smile. You let him walk you to your car, cursing the cold but refusing to use the jacket he offered you. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” you groaned, kneeling next to your car. You felt around the deflated-looking tire and pulled out your dust-covered hands after a few minutes. Looking ready to cry, you turned and sat on the parking lot floor, back against the tire and head tilted up to the night sky. 

Caliban didn’t know what to say. Demons weren’t known for their empathetic listening skills, and it wasn’t like he’d ever tried to comfort anyone before. “Do you have a spare tire?” he asked when his horrible feelings started eating at his stomach in the silence. 

“This is my spare tire.” Weeks, maybe months, of seeing you working with the most high-strung customers and borderline incompetent trainees and Caliban had never heard your voice sound so strained. You took a deep breath and looked over at him. “You don’t have to stay here, you know. I can take care of myself.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Caliban said, shooting you a smile that was very carefully lazy and mischievous. It made you laugh. It made him feel gut-punched. “If you want, my motorcycle’s right around the corner. I could take you home and you could fix all this out in the morning light.” 

Your eyes narrowed slightly in a way he’d never seen in the coffee shop. He tried not to seem affected. “What’s in it for you?” 

Caliban shrugged, looking around. “Another fifteen minutes with you.” 

You thought about it for a second before shaking your head and holding your hands up to him to pull you up. You weren’t even a breath away now. “Don’t crash into anything or I’m going to start spitting in your coffee.” 

“Deal.”

You absolutely obliterated Caliban with questions before you’d even take the helmet from him. Nervousness was a cute look on you, as was the slightly lopsided helmet on your head. Caliban’s fingers lingered slightly under your chin after tightening the strap for you, but all you did was smile before climbing on the seat behind him. 

Your arms wrapped hesitantly around his waist, but your grip tightened as soon as he pulled off. Every time he sped up or took a turn, Caliban felt your arms snug around him. It was a dangerous line to drive between reckless enough to keep you close and so reckless that you’d let go and never come back. 

It was pathetic. 

At one of the lights, Caliban stole a moment to look down at your hands. His shirt was wrinkled into bunches around your deathly tight fingers. You consciously relaxed them and sighed behind him, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat. 

Like he was in a goddamned schoolboy fantasy. 

You were shaky as you climbed off the bike, clumsily getting to your feet and fiddling with the strap under your chin. Caliban didn’t say a word as you handed the helmet back to him; he was too busy staring at your helmet hair. The word ‘adorable’ came to mind, as did ‘arson’ and ‘absinthe’. 

“Well, thanks, James Dean,” you exhaled when he took the helmet from you, hands touching on the underside. “I might get flat tires more often.” 

“I do have a name, you know,” Caliban said with a not so carefully crafted smile. 

“I know. Quintuple shot espresso, no flavor shots or cream and, for the love of Mary, don’t ask if he’s sure,” you said, with a not so carefully crafted smile of your own. “At least, that’s what I tell the trainees.” 

“Bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?” 

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you started taking steps back to your apartment building. “I’ll see you around, Caliban.” 

Demons didn’t fall in love, that’s what everyone in Hell always said. But Caliban had left that life of torment and punishment behind for the mundane life of making art and committing crime. Any sort of thrill to dust off the familiar rush of adrenaline and ignite some sort of emotion. 

And then you fucked everything up. 

Okay, you said one day as you set his coffee in front of him, here was the deal: you’d go out with him, he’d pick you up at seven but if he was even a minute late then the whole thing was off. He said he understood, thanked you for the coffee, and jumped off the first bridge he could find (sure to teleport before crashing into the river below). 

He knew full well why the jumps and petty crime didn’t make him feel better. For one, they were shit coping mechanisms, but, more importantly, the feelings he had for you couldn’t be extinguished like a kitchen fire. 

His feelings were gasoline and you were a raging fire. 

They burnt bright and hot when you held his hand. Red-hot and violent when you kissed him. Sickeningly electric when your fingers traced his scars and told him he was beautiful. If demons didn’t fall in love, then what the fuck was happening to him? 

What was happening when you held him at night when he couldn’t sleep? (Butterflies. Or a heart attack, more likely). What was happening when you hid your face away every time he asked to paint you? (Stubbornness. He painted you anyway). What was happening when you drank a cup of coffee he made you and tried not to spit it up so as not to hurt his feelings? (Laughter. Also a promise to never, ever make another cup of coffee again). 

And what, if you excuse his language, the absolute fuck was happening to him now that you were away, visiting your family for a few days? 

He’d never been this restless in Hell. 

In Hell, he’d build a sandcastle just to smash it to bits if he got riled up. He’d find some poor soul to torment. He would never, ever cut the sleeves off his shirts just to burn the leftover scraps. He wouldn’t spend hours molding the perfect pottery piece just to break it back down to a lump of clay. And he sure as anything would never, ever drink this much coffee and eat this much takeout. 

It was embarrassing. It was unsightly. It was so very human.

And yet none of the dumb yet legal things he did got his mind off missing you - the only solace he got was the nightly video-chat you shared. He was absolutely disgusting. No better than the foolish lovers that washed up on his shores, joined at the wrists and praying for eternity. 

Not that he was thinking about eternity. 

Not that he was thinking about much of anything when he heard the door click open and a duffel bag drag across the floor of your joint apartment. 

Caliban tossed the book to the side as he threw his legs over the sides of the couch. You were complaining as you made your way to him - could he believe the amount of traffic at this time of day? Jesus, he’d think it was the Second Coming with all the fleeing out of the city - but Caliban didn’t care. Messy hair, wrinkled clothes, snarky upper lip; you were perfect. 

And you were home. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and twirled you around the tiny apartment, accidentally knocking the table that marked the entryway in the process. Your arms tightened around his neck as you pressed a kiss to his temple before turning to check that it was only the keys that landed on the floor in his frantic need to be held. 

“Woah, calm down, James Dean,” you laughed when he eased you back down to your feet. “I wasn’t even gone for a full week.” You ran a hand through his matted curls and Caliban could swear he’d never felt more at peace. “Miss me that much, huh?” 

“Hard to find a decent cup of coffee when you’re not around,” Caliban mumbled, lips grazing yours as he leaned his forehead on yours. 

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics but didn’t pull away. Instead, you moved your hands to either side of his neck and pulled him closer. “I missed you too,” you admitted after giving him the kiss he’d spent days thinking about. You took his hand in yours and led him to the kitchen. “Let’s make you that cup of coffee before the world ends.” 

No, Caliban thought to himself as he watched your tired hands work a machine of a job you’d long-ago quit, demons didn’t fall in love. 

Luckily for him, when he was with you, he was something else entirely.

Tag List:  @caliban-is-my-girl  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @music-movies  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​  @foji2000​  @mschfavngz​  @artaxerxesthegreat​  @thxmagic​  @luquincy  @strawberriesandknives​  @xealia​  @hotmessindisguise​  @olivia-west-allen  @sweetrogers​  @reheated-coffee​  @shelby-x​  @perseny-blog​  @millie-753​  @luneerius​  @shizzybarnaclee​  @lettherebelovex​

[asahinagamine]

Gemsphere / Rough Diamond - 3

Season: Autumn

Writer: Yuumasu

Background: TV Station Set Backstage

Mitsuru: ♪～♪～♪

Tetora: Looks like Tenma-kun’s in a good mood~

Mitsuru: It’s all thanks to the bread Anzu-nee-chan gave me! Bread always puts me in such a good mood ☆

Here-here! Teto-chan should eat some too! 

Tetora: I’m good. I’ve already eaten a ton, so go ahead and help yourself to the rest.

This is the first time I’ve seen so much bread at once. It’s like a month’s worth of bread.

Mitsuru: Really? For me, this is less than a week’s worth.

Shinobu: Mitsuru-kun probably prefers bread for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Though I suppose bread can be part of all three of them too.

Mitsuru: Fufun. I’ll always have room for bread ♪

Nazuna: Bread’s pretty great, isn’t it? It’s easy to carry around with ya.

Watching Mitsuru-chin eat made me pretty hungry too. I might stop by a convenience store to buy ice cream.

Tetora: Can I come with you? Apparently they’re selling limited-time kalbi rice balls.

Shinobu: I shall follow you too! Convenience stores are always changing up their products so it’s always a lotta fun to visit one.

Mitsuru: Ooh, I’ll come too! I’m kinda thirsty so I wanna buy myself a drink~

Tetora: Eh? We still got a lot of stuff here, are you really planning to buy more?

Mitsuru: Duh! And you can never have enough bread~!

...Eh? I think someone was knocking just now.

Nazuna: Ah—that must be Anzu.

Heeeeeey~ Anzuuu~ Everyone’s already finished changing, so you can come in now. 

Good work, Anzu. How’s the thing we talked about going? ...Oh, you’ve contacted the client already?

I can keep the box for a week as long as I don’t break it… Thank god.

Shinobu: The box… break it… Are you perhaps talking about the secret box earlier? 

Nazuna: Yup. I wanted to see what was inside it so I asked permission to investigate. 

I gotta give this to my professor as soon as possible. I hope I can meet them tomorrow. 

Tetora: Umyu… I’m also curious about what’s inside, but why would you go to such lengths just for that?

The staff couldn’t open it, either. It’s definitely gonna give you a hard time, y’know. 

Nazuna: Yeah, I know but… I just can’t help myself. 

When we introduced each treasure, we read the letters that came with them aloud, right?

I was the one who read out the letter about the secret box, and it's been lingering in my mind since then. They said they inherited this box from their grandmother. 

“Inherited”, implying that their grandmother has most likely passed away. She probably left this behind as a momento. 

Even if it’s for a TV program segment, it was still appraised by an expert. If we don’t find out what’s inside now, it may remain unknown forever... 

Whenever I think about it, I can’t stand the idea of giving up. I wanted to do something for them, so I asked Anzu if she could negotiate.

...Hm? You were also interested in what’s inside, so you were glad that I asked?

Shinobu: Nito-dono, I also feel the same way. I’d like to help even if my contribution won’t be much.

Mitsuru: Me too! If we all work together, I’m sure we can open this!

Tetora: How about we all work together to force this thing open?

If we do that, I’m confident it’ll open. Like chopping roof tiles―

Nazuna: No way, we can’t do that! I only got to borrow it on the condition that I wouldn’t break it.

Tetora: Ahaha, I’m kiddin’. This box looks pretty sturdy, so I’m not actually planning on it.

Nazuna: All right then, let’s get going. Anzu, I’m going to the convenience store with everyone, wanna come?

Tetora: ...Eh? You still have work to do? You sure are hard-working, huh… 

Mitsuru: I got this from you, but here’s some bread! 

Eat this and feel better! Woo~ Woo~ Anzu-nee-chan ♪

A few days later, after the day of the shooting

Background: Nazuna’s University

Nazuna: Heeeyyy, Anzu! Over here!!

Sorry for making you wait. One of the guys from my class got a hold of me.

...You feel bad for asking me to come and meet you all of a sudden? Don’t worry about that. You came here to give me stuff I need for work, right?

Thank you for taking the time to come all the way here. I’ll read through this before our meeting. 

...Did I find out anything about the secret box?

Nope, not at all. My professor was quite shocked since it was his first time encountering such a mechanism. They tried whatever they could but it still wouldn’t open... 

My professor suggested that I should take it for a CT scan(1) and requested it to a reliable laboratory, but I declined their offer since it’d take a month to finish. 

I’m looking through books from the library about crafts at the moment. I’ve borrowed a buncha books from our university’s library, so I might be able to find something...

Nazuna: I’ve only got a few days left until I have to return this secret box, so I’m gonna try to do everything I can to open it. The other three are also working hard to open it.

Since I’m the oldest, I can’t go throwing in the towel just yet!

...I’m reliable? Haha, of course I am. I’m ‘Nii~chan’ after all ♪

You’ve grown into a brilliant producer, but you’re still probably going to run into trouble from time to time.

And whenever that happens, you can always rely on your Nii~chan. I’ll always be there to help you… 

A computerized tomography scan (CT or CAT scan) uses computers and rotating X-ray machines to create cross-sectional images of the body.

Proofread by: nazunyan + ciel