#and i sent her a gift package recently

[cdrcrowdedroom]

oh hi it’s been a while huh

[vxnuslogy]

— pasalubong.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: kinich wasn't a sentimental person at heart, until you left to travel. neither was he easily upset, but here he was, undoubtedly upset that you didn't give him a gift with your recent package.

— warnings: ooc-kinich and ajaw (still havent done the new aq), he's a bit down bad, and misses you dearly.

— author's note: this is not angst despite the premise LMFAO. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 1.6k words.

“delivery for kinich!” a mail man shouted, trying his best to not look down over the ledge the scions of the canopy is held. “delivery for ki—”

“i heard ya!” the small dragon yells, taking the sealed letter and small box from the man’s hands and throws a pouch of mora as thanks. 

the man sweat drops at the comical sight of the tiny dragonlord floating up to where kinich was. said man was dangling his legs over the ledge, hair swaying with the wind and an indifferent look on his face as he swats away his small companion and roughly takes the letter in his hands. he could only assume that the two had started another argument once again.

with a sigh, he cups a hand to his mouth and shouts, “thank you for your patronage!”

kinich looked in his direction and gave him a small nod. there were few postal workers here in natlan, so he made sure to at least pay the man generously—especially with how his legs shake and hand clutch the side of the mountain for dear life.

ajaw continued to punch and tug at his head but his attention had zeroed in on the envelope. it felt heavier than the last and you had sent a small package with it. ‘for my dearest, kinich & almighty dragon lord, ajaw.’ the small note said with your signature right below it as well as a wax seal at the corner. your penmanship makes kinich smile and before ajaw can open his mouth, he takes the grapple on his waist and zips away to find a secluded place to open your gifts. they were sacred to him and therefore had to be treated with utmost care.

when he lands on teticpac peak, he sits down by one of the rocks and gently peels away the seal. kinich makes a mental note to stop by a market to get a new container for all your letters, after all, his bedside drawer can only hold so much of you over the years. 

‘to my dearest, kinich,’

with just four words, you had him smiling like a fool. one hand propped behind his back to support his weight as he leisurely soaks in your stories like a sponge. ajaw sits by his shoulder, impatiently demanding him to open the box that came along with your letter. kinich was not even half way with reading before he relented—you always had a knack for making pages and pages of stories, but he didn’t mind. you have been away for nearly 7 years now and send only a letter or two every few years. kinich learned to appreciate the pages of your love every time they arrive.

“hurry up!” ajaw demanded, waiting with bated breath as kinich opened the box. “learn to be patient, ajaw.”

the dragon only huffed and turned around but it didn’t take long before he dove head first into the array of gifts. while his little companion drowned in material luxuries, kinich took out items in piles and made a mental note to give them to their respective owners.

kinich tucked the small pouch with xilonen’s name along with your letter for her at his side. he will deliver these to her first, he concludes. as he’s sifting through the items, kinich catches a glimpse of ajaw sitting on a toy fox’s head with a small note with kachina’s name. the final item that seemed important was a small box containing colorful seashells with mualani’s name on it.

his brows furrowed in confusion as he sets all the gifts down carefully and sifts through the package one more time. and again, and again, until his lower back felt sore. ajaw noticed his antsy behavior and decided to look at what all the fuss was about. kinich sat down, head lowered with his bangs covering his eyes—ajaw was beginning to worry (but he would rather die than verbally admit it).

“hey!” ajaw turned to kinich who had stiffly stood up. clutching at your letter as the sliver of expectancy in his eyes dimmed. “don't tell me they actually forgot about you?”

“let’s go back,” he says with a subtly sullen voice. “we have to deliver these to the others.”

ajaw makes no further comment and sits on his shoulder as they zip from one place to another. he doesn’t point out the way kinich’s eyes looked duller and the way a frown tugged at his lips—he was upset. 

“hmph! i'll be sure to show them a piece of my mind when they get back!" the dragon complains to him as they arrive back home. kinich beelined his way back to his residence, a bit more aggressive than he normally would.

he doesn’t want to admit that he was upset—it was stupid. so what if you didn’t get him a gift after not hearing from you for almost a year? but how come everyone else had one? hell even citlani and mavuika received one, so why didn’t he?

with a click of his tongue he pushed past all the people in his way, muttering half hearted apologies here and there as ajaw kept calling his name. kinich was not upset nor was he disappointed—he wasn’t a child chasing after the trail of gold you left behind anymore. he was an adult now, someone people look up to and admire. kinich was no longer the shy kid that always wondered if he could ever chase after you.

“kinich!”

with the shout of his name, he was taken back to memory lane. how you would call to him from the ground, a pair of wheels at your feet as you glided through the rocky terrain as if it were made of ice. the smile you flash him as you point to your finish line makes his heart skip a few beats, rendering him only to reply in a nod because his mind has turned into a mushy puddle. 

“kinich!”

you have always been golden in his eyes. smiles bright like the sun, kindness gentle like its morning rays, and hypnotizing in the starry trail you leave behind. kinich remembers the first time he tried his hands on rollerblades. he felt unwittingly afraid of standing on his own two feet, the possibility of his world turning upside down with one single step scared him. but you were always there to ward away his fears. it wasn’t long before he took them off and said with a dead expression that he will never try them again. the laugh that he managed to steal from your lungs made all his suffering worth it.

“kinich!”

he doesn’t like letting things go, not when you’ve taught him how to cherish every little thing. but he’d hate himself if he kept you from your dreams. so there he was, all those years ago, standing by natlan’s borders, unable to say goodbye as the rest bid theirs. you had to make him face you—gently cupping his jaw with both hands and flashing a small smile, giving him a tempting offer.

“let me stay,” you said. you were willing to give up your dreams if it meant making him happy. kinich didn’t want his happiness, he wanted yours.

“leave,” he said bluntly. it made you laugh because it sounded incredibly rude, but the way he held your hand in his shaking hold, lip bitten until it almost bled, everyone knew he was struggling the most.

“i’ll give you souvenirs,” you offered as consultation and it took every willpower he had to say he only wanted you. 

“i’ll keep them safe.” he replied and you smiled.

“kinich!”

urging you to travel has been the best and worst decision in his life—you were enjoying your life but he was stuck missing you. his longing for the sun in his life greatly outweighed his happiness for you. how can he be happy when happiness is spelled with your name? the way you smile, and the way you leave a golden trail?

“kinich.”

“ajaw, enou—” his sentence was cut off when he turned to look at the smiling faces of his tribe. brows furrowed in confusion as he searched the crowd for a certain green dragon, but all his eyes could see was gold.

the wind in his lungs was stolen as the images of smiling faces turn to fade, his attention solely on you in the distance, ajaw by your side as you both waved him over. as fast as the winds could take him, kinich ran straight in your arms—his home. your laugh ringed like morning birds and your hands felt warm like the afternoon heat. you were home; you were his gift.

“pasalubong, for kinich,” you say with a teasing lilt to your voice. 

“pasalubong?” he repeats, hands coming to cradle your smiling face. “what does that mean?”

you smile wider and hold his hands with your own. “it means gifts given by homecomers. but,” you tuck away a stray piece of his hair behind his ear as you tempt him in another embrace. “it can also mean ‘to meet again.’”

kinich laughed—airy and bright, like the setting sun. this was so you, he thought, burying his head in your neck. trying to make up for all the lost physical contact he had missed. 

“thank you for the gift.” he said with a smile.

you pat him on the back and hummed in delight. “i came back just for you.”

“i’m honered,” he jests and takes a step back, not letting your hand go. “you should be! the trip back home is nothing short of tedious!”

he chuckles because kinich knows he’s a goner. no need for xilonen’s amused teasing, mualani’s persistence and kachina’s curiosity. everyone in his tribe and maybe even natlan knew, kinich would wait for you knowing you’ll eventually come home to him.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for not wanting to gift my friend a collector's item anymore?

So i (20sF) recently bought a collectors item that was pretty expensive to me (about $100). Since it was expensive i followed the shipping tracking very closely and noticed it wasnt updating its location after a few days. I feared it may have been lost or stolen so i contacted the seller to see what they could do and they inmediatly sent a replacement for free without really discussing anything with me.

Soon after i was told i was getting a replacement, the original package arrived. The location just wasnt updating due to my location. So now i have 2 of the same collectors item. I do not want to be another scalper reselling for a way higher price than original so i thought itd be best to gift it or sell it on a lower price to a friend. Inmediatly my friend Gab (20sX) came to mind.

This collectors item was a combination of my and Gab's special interests. Gab's special interest is a tv show with a lot of merchandise and they have a pretty large collection of this merchandise. This collector's item is my special interest's take on this tv show. (I do like this tv show as well which is why i bought the item but not as much as Gab does)

Since it was near the holidays i thought about just gifting it to Gab as a christmas present. I never told Gab that i wanted to do this.

When my first item arrived i called Gab so they could see me unbox it. On the call i mentioned the second package and they started acting very entitled about it. They started saying i should just give it to them (we are not english speaking and the word they used for "give" is a lot more demanding) and they just kept badgering me about it for a few days. Eventually i told them the package never arrived since i was doubting about giving it to them.

Idk, i feel like if before demanding it they had offered to buy it i wouldve just agreed, or if maybe they had been more subtle about it and tried hinting that it wouldve been a good christmas present i wouldve played along. Hell, maybe even if they had said "gift it to me" instead of "give it to me" i wouldve totally done it.

Ive discussed it with my family a few times and while my younger sister agrees with me (although she doesnt really like Gab and it just feels spiteful from her), my twin brother and my parents say im a huge AH and that im just getting hung up on the wording of things as an excuse to not do a nice thing and just get money by selling it to someone else.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[neesieiumz]

mellisonant - (adj) pleasant to the ear ————— | kento nanami |

Synopsis: he loves to take care of you, and loves to grant every wish you have, so when you ask to take him to a country club? How could he say no?

warnings: smut. 18+. semi-public sex. black-coded reader. possessiveness. praise kink. degradation. sir kink. kento is in his late thirties and early fourties. reader is in her late twenties.

ac: this the second time I’m posting this cause it flopped last time 😔. Hopefully y’all like it this time. I’m uploading Tokyo style after this one!

word count: 6.1k

-----

Kento doesn’t really remember how the two of you met, he recalls a restaurant, someone spilling something on someone, and the rest was history. At first, it started with small things, jewelry, packages sent to your address, and what-not. He loved it when you would wear them at your “meet-ups”, from the single charm ones to those of more refined taste, laid with jaded emeralds or ethereal sapphires. He would pay for your hair and nails, in exchange for choosing it every time of course, but he never left you high and dry with something you’d hate. You were a part of his life that he adores, despite his very… dreary life as a CEO. 

So when he had seen you come to him, crying about how your apartment was ruined, and all the gifts he had given you were gone or destroyed. All of your important things were torn up by a robber breaking in, he had no problem with immediately relocating you, having no thought about not paying for everything. He wanted to move you into your own house, but you compromised from a penthouse. Since then, your life has been nothing but luxury and high life, to the point when you even quit your job. The money he gave you was well enough to sustain you. 

“Kento!”

He turned around, seeing you walk down the penthouse stairs, seeing your bright smile along with your outfit. It was a vintage floral bustier blouse, paired with a long silk skirt and clear open-toed heels that showed off your new pedicure, provided by him truly. Your hair was up, having long wavy braids in a high ponytail tied with a ribbon that matched the color of your skirt as well. You were smiling wide, reaching out your hands to wrap in a close hug. His hands slid down your waist while yours went up to his back, pulling each other in. He took in a deep breath, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume. He pulled you away slightly, to be able to look into your eyes before pulling you into a deep kiss. Moaning slightly, his braids hands slid down your waist, easily cupping your behind and giving it a squeeze. 

“Kento, fuck, we’re gonna be late, fuck,” you let out breathily, despite your body grinding on him. 

He just chuckled, before letting your body go, but moving his hand towards yours. He held it, pulling you back into his body, face right near your cheek. You smiled, giggling as he left kisses along your cheek, slowly trailing them towards your neck/. He could feel wanting to pull away, so he let go, reluctantly he may add. He kept his hands on you somehow, resting them on your waist, still dangerously close to your pelvis. 

“Kento I know you missed me, but I really want to go to this,” your voice had a whiny edge to it, but you still had a wide smile on your face.

“Let’s go then,” he whispered against your ear, before leading and guiding you out of the penthouse. 

The two of you walked to the private elevator, going down to the private parking lot. Kento opened the passenger side of his luxury car, giving you a soft smile. The ride was smooth, he delved into the boring details about his recent business trip. Well, you didn’t think it was boring, it was as boring as what you would do (which is basically nothing.) He would soon drive on a private path, surrounded by trees and sunlight before revealing a wide vast land. At the end of the road, was the country club. A huge building, as if it was pulled out of Italy’s finest.

Imported palm trees from Peru, and the building looked exactly as you saw it on the website. Your eyes shined as you looked onto the building as it got closer and closer, bigger and bigger. You smiled over at Kento who was face forward, pulling up to the valet right outside of the steps to the building. There was a man, wearing a red vest that had a cursive label indicating "valet", giving a customer service smile as Kento pulled up. He parked, and unlocked the door, allowing the man to open your door for you. You smiled at him, taking his hand and thanking him. You waited as Kento handed him his keys, and was given a valet tag. Kento then took you in his arms, one hand around your waist while he tucked in his pocket as you both walked up the cobblestone stairs into the lavish building. The inside was quite different from the outside, with much more obvious renovations, giving it a more modern look. The two of you walked towards the reception area, where the lady looked up from her computer and immediately smiled in your direction. 

“Mr. Nanami, it has been a while. Will you be joining Mr. Gojo for his tennis matches?”

Stifling a giggle, you turned away as Kento’s face twisted with contempt. A bit of a funny sight to you. You heard of “Gojo” before but had never seen him. All you know is that Nanami trusts him as a business partner but hates his personality so much. 

“Are those today?” He asked the lady, pulling out some kind of card and giving it to her. 

She nodded her head, taking the card and scanning it, “yes, both he and Mr. Geto are currently enjoying our facilities as well. I’m sure they’d love the extra company.”

“No, I don’t think I will, is there space in the greenhouse? We want to be able to enjoy the flora today,” he tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you closer. 

The lady giggled a bit, before nodding her head, “there is always room for you sir.”

You opted to ignore the added saccharine to her tone, too invested in the scenery around you. You kept your long gazes to a minimum, not wanting to seem like a child clinging onto Kento. He simply thanked the receptionist one more time before pulling you to the right, taking you down one of the many hallways connecting all throughout the recitation hall. The hall was lowly lit, the beige walls decorated with different paintings, each having its own spotlight on them. One of the paintings was labeled to be a self-portrait. The woman was staring straight out at the painting, her deep brown eyes holding a multitude of emotions. Her hair was a fluffy brown, going with her deep olive-brown skin. It was long, going past her collarbone and into the loose wrappings of the dress she was wearing. SHe had a thin veil laid loosely on her head, most of her hair hiding it, and her face held a slight smile upon her plump lips. 

Kento noticed your vested interest in the painting, making a small mental note before tugging on your hand. 

“Come on, let’s go.”

You nodded, allowing him to continue to lead you towards the greenhouse area. You could see the light seeping through a glass door, and you could see bits and pieces of the scenery. Closer and closer you got, and soon enough Kento pushed open the door, revealing the beautiful scenery. The entire area was made of glass, allowing the sun to provide its natural light to illuminate everywhere. All over on the walls were different vines and flora, plants and trees all around, giving it a verdure look. The air smelled of lightly breezed jasmine and amber. You gaped at the area, looking all around it. Kento looked over at you, relishing in the spaced-out look in your eyes. He never misses out on that, which is why he loves to take you to places, and show you new things you never even dreamed of looking at. 

“Table for two?” You heard a waitress call out, breaking you out of your slight trance. 

“Yes please, and a table near the glass walls if you could, please?” Kento answered for the two of you. 

You gave him a glossy smile, while the waitress simply nodded, grabbing two menus before leading the two of you towards a seat. As you walked, you took in the scenery more, loving it more and more. She gestured towards a table with a perfect view of the outside gardens, along with the scenery of the greenhouse all around. He pulled out your chair, much like the gentleman he is, gesturing for you to sit down. You thanked him, sitting down with a wide smile. Once he was seated, the two of you opened the menu, slightly discussing what was on the menu. A waitress comes by and takes your order, you get a cajun shrimp alfredo while Kento gets a well-done steak with some sides. He also orders a bottle of expensive white wine, with water of course. 

“White wine…? What’s the occasion?” You gave him a smile as you handed the waitress the menus, placing your arms on your table, leaning forwards, and resting your chest upon them. 

Kento just gave you a slight smirk, leaning forwards as well, “can’t I just want to celebrate being back in your presence after so long?”

You laughed a bit at that, “you were only away for two weeks.”

“And you’re telling me you didn't miss me during that time, those late-night phone calls say different things.”

If you could blush, you’d be beet red but you could still feel the heat of the moment burn through your cheeks, looking away coyly. The waitress interrupted the moment the two of you had, brought over the white wine Kento ordered, and placed the waters each in front of you. You thanked her, and watched Kento as he poured the both of you a glass. He handed it to you, and together you gave gaslight toast, before taking sips of it. The conversation between the two of you was light, easy-going as it usually is, finding yourself in easy territory. The food arrived thirty minutes into the conversation, the conversation soon ceasing to allow the two of you to eat in peace. Kento didn’t like when people ate while speaking so it was constantly quiet between you during this time. 

You enjoyed the hum of the people conversing all around you, all different people from different high-paying careers all within one place. The food in front of you was amazing, enjoyed the nicely-seasoned shrimp, which left a kick in your throat. You cooled it down with a sip of your wine, before turning your focus towards Kento. His sleeves were rolled up, as he cut into his steak, eating it piece by piece. Your eyes followed the piece of meat between the sprung of his fork, him placing it in his mouth and chewing away at it. You couldn’t keep your eyes off his tongue that came out, wiping away the juices that dribbled on his lips. Squirming in your seat, and crossing your legs caused Kento to look up at you, noticing your behavior. He just smirked, gave you a look, and was about to go back to his food when suddenly, 

“NANAMIN!!”

The two of you jumped simultaneously, turning towards the sudden call of Kento’s last name. You could hear Kento curse under his breath as a man, sweaty and wearing a white collared shirt and shirt while holding a tennis racket. He had white spiky hair and had a sweatband holding it up, with black shades hovering under his eyes. He had a huge smile on his face as he approached your table. You looked over at Kento who had just placed his hands on his temples, rubbing away at them. You held back your giggles at his expression, as the man stopped right in front of your table, hovering over the blonde man. 

“Aww, look at you overcome with joy at seeing me that you can’t even speak!!”

You couldn't hold back your laughter as you threw your head back at the man using his hips to nudge Kento, who was easily gaining a migraine with every noise. 

“Gojo… what are you doing here…? Wait, that’s a stupid question, how did you know I was here?”

The man simply just smirked down at Nanami, before telling how the receptionist off-handily mentioned it, before shutting up and realizing her mistake but of course but it was too late. So immediately, he made his way over here to come and bother him of course. You just sat back, enjoying the banter between the two men. Before something caught your eyes. Standing a couple of feet away from him, was a woman, also dressed up in a white-collar shirt and skirt, holding her own tennis racket as well. Her deep tan skin had freckles along her body and face, and her red bushy hair was held up in a high ponytail, with a visor on top of her. A necklace dangled from her neck, gold with the initials S.G on them. She must have noticed eyes on her because she looked towards you. You flinched a bit from the sudden eye contact but still, gave her a slight smile, and a wave. She blinked at this, but waved back, giving you a small smile as well. 

“Anyways, why didn't you join me for tennis, you know I would have enjoyed your company!”

Kento simply rolled his eyes, “I’d rather not join you for your or Geto’s games. I have better things to do.”

Gojo didn't let that deter him, looking away from Kento for a moment, and looking at his table which in turn made him look at you for what seemed to be his first time. He looked down at the table before looking back towards you, before giving you a smirk. 

“Oh, better things to do indeed.”

Kento groaned a bit at his teasing words, making Gojoj laugh aloud, slapping him on the back with each loud chuckle. At this point, the entire room was looking over at you subtly, and you knew their conversations had shifted towards what was happening at the table. You looked back at Kento, reaching over to the table and placing your hand over his. He looked up at you, as you gave him a cautious smile. 

Gojo must have caught the looks between the two of you. Chase stood up straight, grabbing his tennis racket on the way up. 

“I’ll leave you to it, Nanamin, have fun.”

With that, he left, the woman joining him right away. Gojo wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. You turned your head, simply ignoring the way his hands slipped into her skirt as the two of them walked out of the greenhouse. You stared at Kento, waiting for him to say something. 

“Sometimes I wish I never met that man,” he sighed, pulling himself back into his seat. 

“He’s just… eccentric, he seems nice enough,” you smiled at him, placing your fork down on your now empty plate. 

“Nice way of saying pain in my ass.”

Kento took some time to finish his food, before placing his fork down and waving down your waitress who immediately took your plates, placing them on a cart before pulling out sleek smaller menus. Your eyes lit up, seeing the menu placed in front of the both of you. You saw all kinds of different treats you wanted, from sticky cinnamon rolls to squishy sponge cakes, it was all so good. Kento’s own countenance brightened at the sight of yours.

“Would you like to see the desserts today?”

You looked over at Kento, “can I get it to go, I don’t think I can take another bit.”

He smiled at you, before nodding his head, your eyes lightened up at his assurance, before using your manicured finger to guide your eyes as to what caught your eyes the most. 

“Can I get a slice of black cherry cake, the red velvet mini cakes, and the pull-apart cinnamon rolls to go please?”

----

You giggled, walking along the cobblestone paths through the huge private gardens and forest. Holding your box of deserts close to you, the light breeze blew into the trees, cooling you down slightly from the heat. Kento trailed behind you slightly, smiling at the way you enjoyed the environment. Turning around, you looked at Kento who was looking at you. You gave him a smile, before turning back to your surroundings. The grove of Sakura trees lined the main pathway, leaving breaks for the smaller pathways that lead deeper into the club’s forests. The sun peeked through above the branches, often trees, shining through the baby pink leaves. There were  some leaves on the ground, not as much as one would expect. According to Kento, they get cleaned up every three hours, to provide a “clean” experience. Gojo’s words, not his, Kento said. The air smelled slightly sweet, mostly due to the cherry blossom trees you were just ogling at. 

“Baby,” you hear Kento call out to you, causing you to turn towards him. 

He stopped near the entrance of another trail, one hand in his pocket. The other was out, two fingers slowly gesturing for you to come close to him, which you immediately followed. You held your box of sweets close as you stepped right in front of him, bending your neck back to look into his deep brown eyes. For a moment, the two of you were silent a bit, the language of the winds and nature speaking in between you. Soon after that, you could feel his free hand up and cup the side of your face, caressing and holding it gently. 

“Kento?” You whispered against his hand, ever so gently, nuzzling into it. 

You could feel his thumb move over your lips, pulling down the bottom one ever so slightly, revealing some of your bottom teeth. He didn't mind the lip gloss staining his finger, ignoring the shining spot as he moved his hand from your face to your hands. He slowly took the box from your hands, holding it in one hand before taking your other, leading down the smaller private path. The sun slowly hid behind the sun of the much taller, thicker trees. The area became darker and darker as the two of you went further and further into the miniature forest. 

“Kento,” you couldn't hold back your giggles, “where are we going?”

All you got was a look and a smile that showed rays of that hidden mischievousness he would show ever so often. He continued leading you down until you got to a clear patch, the tree lined so rays of sunlight would peak out perfect for you to be able to see the wooden bench someone had clearly put there. Your smile beamed as he led you to the bench, placing your box down before sitting down and pulling you down right into his lap. 

You laughed at the feeling of his breath near your neck, the feeling tickling you as you could feel his hands caressing your lower back, rubbing circles into it. Your hands slid up his body, feeling his muscles underneath his shirt, before wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling his head towards your own. You licked your lips, the taste of your strawberry lip gloss tainting your lips before feeling Kento's own lips encapture your own. The kiss quickly became ravenous, much like he was right before you left for the country club. You could hold back the moan that fell from your lips, Kento’s hands went from your lower back to your thighs, hands digging under your skirt and slowly lifting the silk garment up. His fingers thumbed at the thong you were wearing, lifting it up ever-so-slightly before letting it go, snapping against your skin. 

You gasped into the kiss, letting go and hissing in pleasure at the twitch of pain. He smirked, lifting his hands up to rest them right on your plump bottom. 

“Kento,” you let out a breathy moan, “K-kento, fuck we're in public, we shouldn’t do this here.”

You could feel his wet lips lay kisses align your neck, the toe-curling feeling making you squirm within his hold. 

“Mmm, you telling me you don’t like the way you're feeling? Because I can stop right now.”

You could feel his movements slowing down and before you knew it, your hands flew up to his shoulders, your sharp nails gripping his shoulders. Your hips moved, grinding again this hard-on threatening to break his zipper and button. Kento smirked against your necks, before continuing his ministrations against you, having a good grip on your ass. 

“Kento,” you dragged out his name, whining, hoping, and begging he would stop teasing you. 

You could hear him chuckle against you, relishing in the way you squirmed against him. Your skirt was bunched around your waist, ass shown to the depths of nature. You could feel your braids grazing against your bare skin, the chirping of the birds in the distance, the silver ray of sun hitting your skin just right. Everything around you was heightened as you took in Kento’s actions. Your pussy was drenched at this point, leaving stains upon his dark pants. Kento groaned against your body, his dick twitching against its confines. Your hands moved back down, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, only getting a couple off revealing part of his toned chest. 

“Kent--, sir, oh sir,” you moaned out loud as you could feel his hand move from your bottom to your wet cunt. 

His fingers skilly fully moved past the string covering your entrance, one of his thick, long fingers entered inside you while another rubbed away at your clit. You gasped at the euphoric feel, head thrown back and keening at the rush flowing through veins from your lower abdomen. His pace quickened, and your pussy only dropped even more, possibly coating his hands at this point. Despite all your writhing, Kento had a good grip on you, with one hand only. That realization only made your body willing and long for him more. Yout out a scream, legs twisting in anticipation as you could feel your first climax building up, so quick like a hasty bomb ready to explode. 

“Sir, I’m gonna cum, “ you let out a high pitched scream, and before you knew it, clear liquid came out, making a mess all over your thighs and Nanami’s shirt and clothes. 

You let out deep heavy breaths, spit and drool dripping down your lips and against your chin. You were a mess, eyes dripping tears, slightly dark from the mascara and eyeliner you wore today. Kento relished in the way you looked, good despite all appearances, and how much he loved to see you smile, he loved to see you cry and beg for him more. To know that he has you crying out for him, to forget all morals that you had for yourself. To let him break you down each time you fucked him, or rather he fucked you. Suddenly tasting pennies, Nanami glanced down to find his lip broken open from him biting his lips too hard. Look at him, it seems he got a bit carried away. 

Your sobs had quieted down a little, but he could still hear you as you spoke, whined really, begging for “sir to fuck you.” His debauched little slut, oh how he wished he could spend time forever floating with nothing but the two of you. That, however, requires a deeper conversation that both of you are willing to avoid, so rather he’ll take what he can get, or rather what you can give him until the both of you are ready. 

Kento moved the thin strap to the side once again, before whispering to your ear, “pull my cock out sweetie.”

His sudden command shook you out of your trance, but immediately you nodded your head. Your hands flew down to his pants, fumbling and hitting the button cause it was slightly slippery with your juices, but you got it off and you unzipped his pants. Only pulling down his boxers slightly, you gasped slightly as his dick basically flew out, making you jump slightly in his lap. The usually punk tip was an angry red, and it was slick with pre-cum, it was thick and throbbing in your hands. With every movement you made, you could feel him move, hear him hiss slightly, and groan. Slowly you moved your hands up and down, the pad of your thumb pressing against the very tip of his cock. 

“Fuck, Princess stop teasing me,” you smirked slightly as he groaned out, before gasping at the sudden smack he left on your bottom. 

Slowly, he held you underneath your bottom, lifting you up before placing you right over his cock. Slowly, you could feel pressure, choking on your spit as he slowly entered inside of you. You could feel your excitement tingling underneath your skin. The stretch felt so good, the pain making you yelp as you went lower and lower against him. Sweat dripped down your back, the same for Kento’s face and chest as you held him by the back of his head. His hands held a tight grip on your ass, as you gasped, the full feeling slowly etched itself into your veins. The smell of his musky cologne, the hint of vanilla, and the strong smoky smell of cardamom. You couldn’t help but clench around his length, pulling yourself close to him as he grunted. He was breathing heavily underneath you as he took in your wetness, placing a kiss along the side of your head, right near your ears. 

“So big,” you are your head back in complete ecstasy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

All of this immense pleasure had you forgetting you were even outside, you were lucky that Kento even took you someplace with a bit more privacy, but honestly, at this moment, you could not give a damn. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you stuttered out curses as you slowly lift your hips, your body still getting used to his size. 

Kento took your slow pace, allowing you to take control as best as you could. With every movement, you could feel him twitch and move within you. You could feel your wetness dripping all over him, allowing you to move more and more rapidly. Kento’s head was spinning, moving his arms up and down to help stabilize you as you rode him faster and faster. Your moans and screams echoed throughout the forest, and underneath he knew no one would come and disturb you. Your fingers weaved themselves with his short blonde hair, messing up the slicked-back style he had this morning. One of Kento’s hands moved from where he placed them, to the back of your neck, pulling your head even closer before swallowing your lips into a rough kiss, almost bruising your lips. Kento leg’s spread, making your own spread as well. He stabilized his feet, and before you knew it, he had started thrusting his hips into you, outpacing your now-medium one. 

“Oh fuck!” The sudden change of pace had you muffling your screams into his mouth, legs trembling and shaking. 

“God,” Kento grunted in your ear, “I can't get enough of you.” He whispered in your ear, as he let go of your lips, swollen from the harsh and intense kiss. 

“So full,” you babbled, “fuck you make me feel so full, sir,” you spewed out curses as Kento behind huff and puffing. 

“Hmm, I do, huh?” His teasing voices caused an almost visceral reaction within you, your body involuntary thrashing within his hold. 

“Yes sir,” you keened in his hold once again, feeling a pool of heat and pressure build-up within yourself. 

“All out in the open, all for me right?” His teasing tone took on a more slightly possessive one as he continued to ramble on, a signal that he was soon reaching his climax. 

You could only hum out confirmations, too tongued at this point to even speak. He continued to speak in your ear, getting more and more talkative by the second. You couldn't concentrate on his words, anymore, your ears filling with cotton with every second.

“So sweet and all for me, right. No one can fuck you like I can, isn't that right.”

You couldn't even respond to him, your moans going higher and higher in octaves as your hands moved from his hands to his shoulders, gripping onto him tightly as you dug your face into the base of his neck. A sudden smack to your ass jolted you out of your trance. 

“Fucking answer me.”

You squealed, “M’sorry sir!”

He smirked at that, that final “sir” sending him over the edge, and it seemed you had reached that same peak. With a few more hasty and uneven thrusts, he came right inside of you, with no intentions of ever pulling out of you, that’s what he put you on birth control for right. At the same time, you let out a final squeal, your nails dragging themselves into his shirt to the point where they tore through, allowing them to leave a few things all scratched on his skin. He hissed slightly at the pain, however it didn't deter him as you planted your lips on his once again. This time the kiss was softer and sweeter, allowing the two of you to ride out your sudden climaxes. Slowly he released his hold on you, allowing you to move around him just a bit, your joints cracking a bit. 

He let you release the kick, sitting up a bit as you moved around, grimacing at the wet sounds. Your bustier top had fallen due to the pressure, hand moving to your breast to push the top back up. He placed a kiss on your temple, before helping you up and off of him. You squealed at the sudden empty feeling, a mixture of both you and his cum dripping down the sides of your thighs. 

“I’m gonna get all sticky,” you whined, looking down at the juices slowly sliding down your skin. 

You moved your skirt back to its original position, but you knew that wouldn’t help the situation any better. Kento chuckled slightly at your situation, pulling his boxers back over himself before zipping and buttoning up his pants. Once situated, he stood up straight just as you were pulling down your skirt which was wrinkled to the extreme. You couldn't see yourself but you knew that your makeup was ruined. Kento could feel a cool breeze enter through the rips you made into his shirt as he approached you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, slightly grinding himself on you. 

“Don’t rile me up again, Kento. I’m already sticky and dirty,” but you couldn't hold back your giggles as your body followed along with his own. 

He simply smiled, giving you a peck on your lips before letting go of you, grabbing you by your hand before pulling you back down the path. On the way, he bent back down on the bench, picking up your box of sweets before going back the way you came. You soon made it back to the main path when you realized that Kento was leading you back to the country club building. Quickly, you pulled out your phone, realizing your intuition was right about your appearance. 

“Wait Kento, I can't go back there looking like this?!”

He looked over at you, tilting his head a bit before turning back towards the path. You tried to fight him every step of the way, but he just continued you on. You could see the tennis court up ahead, Gojo and his black-haired companion along with those girls no longer there. You tried to speak up again but then Kneto went off the main path again, this time leading to another one that led to the side of the building. There was an armored door, and on the side, you could see a card swipe mechanism. Kento went into his wallet, pulling out the same card the receptionist had scanned, and swiping it. Immediately the door had beeped a bright sound, the red light in the machine turned green and you could hear the door unlocking. Kento reached past you, going for the door and pulling it open, and gesturing for you to go inside. 

Immediately, you found yourself in a dimmed hallway, all with doors, all closed. As you took a couple of steps down, you looked at the door to your left and found the black door had its own card swipe locking machine, and there was a name plaque a few feet above it. You looked around and saw the different doors all looked the same, a black door with a card swipe machine but a different name on the plaque above. Kento got in front of you, leading you down a few doors, before stopping right in front of one. You peeked from behind just as he was unlocking the door, looking at the name plaque near the door. 

Nanami Kento.

The door unlocked, revealing a dark room at first, Kento had leaned over, turning on the lights revealing a well-decorated room, reminding you of the living room at Kento’s Osaka mansion. The room was mostly tan and beige, with wooden floors to align with it. In the middle of the room was a sunken circular sofa much like the mansion this area reminded you of. You took a few steps in before Kento grabbed you by the arm, leading you down throughout the room before arriving at another door. He opened it this time, revealing a smaller room. One look around has you realizing that this was a closet filled with Kento’s clothes. 

You turned towards him, eyes filled with stupor, “how-- how long have you had this place?”

He gave you a look, not even saying a word before going to another door that was connected to the closet. You stammered and sputtered, going after him about to give him a piece of your mind when you joined him in the other room you were looking at him and stopped right in your tracks. 

It was another closet, but this one was filled with… dresses and other outfits. You took even more steps inside, going to one of the racks connected to the many drawers and tall dressers. You pulled one of the dresses off the rack, before placing it right in front of your body, turning up to the overarching mirror on the walls. The dress was see-through and sleeveless, silver and shimmering with the design of a butterfly wing as the main design. It was short and asymmetrical, one side longer than the other, imitating a slit. There was one chain going from the neckline that seemed to wrap around your neck. You grabbed at the tag within the inside of the dress, seeing that it was exactly your size.

You turned towards Kento who was simply smirking at your reaction leaving against the doorframe. 

“The moment you asked about coming here. I had a simple membership before, but upgraded to the one that gives me my own private room.”

He stood up straight, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his wallet, before pulling out a card. Kento handed it to you, and you looked at it, eyes widening at what was on it. It was a membership card, allowing you complete access. You looked back up at him, eyes wide once again, before looking down at it. 

“This is for me?” Your voice was small, uncertain as to what was in front of you.

He confirmed it, using one of his fingers to push your head up to look at him, and a soft smile on his face. You broke out into a big smile, dropping the dress and wrapping your arms around him, squealing. Kento immediately responded, wrapping his arms around you, before hoisting you up. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his lips, right before he encaptured them into a deep kiss. 

Kento stumbled back into the wall near the door, holding you by the waist. Your hands trailed down his ruined shirt, fiddling with buttons once again. Breaking off the kiss, a sliver of spit connecting your lips, you gave Kento a devious look. 

“How about we,” you ground against his hips, feeling that familiar length rising up, “break in the new room?”

He looked down at you, giving you a slight smirk before immediately swishing and carrying you out of the room, making you laugh out loud, the joyous sound echoing all throughout the private room. 

[ehc-on-ao3]

Wednesday's Stalker Secret Admirer

(The impetus for this rather silly idea: Wednesday is listed as a horror comedy series. I recall something about the overall plan for season 2 of Wednesday to ramp up the horror aspect. But what if it went the other route and ramped up the comedy instead?)

Wednesday Addams.

Dark. Brooding. Stoic.

Utterly mesmerizing.

Socially inept.

Terrifyingly gorgeous.

The source of many people's pain and suffering.

Hero of Nevermore.

But most importantly?

Target.

The stalker had spent months studying the gothic shadow in twin pigtails, knew her moves, her thoughts, her patterns. They started this cat-and-mouse game at least a dozen steps ahead of the amateur detective, prepared to taunt, mock, threaten, then finally kill her in the most humiliating way possible. It was destined to be their magnum opus! If it wasn't for one small, tiny detail:

Wednesday Addams simply didn't get it.

What the stalker did not (could not in a million years) anticipate was that Wednesday would utterly misinterpret every single text, written letter, and threatening package delivered to her door as the attempts of a secret admirer to win her love rather than a bloodthirsty stalker hellbent on rendering her dead and buried.

The animated .gif of her getting skewered by a butcher knife netted the response of, "Clearly you are an individual of refined taste. I approve, though with reservation."

Huh? Never mind, try again, this time via a physical letter written in blood delivered to her door. The response via text?

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness of the letter, though I believe my heart has been snared by another. My advice: in the future, try vellum, as it will not allow the blood to seep through to the envelope and spoil the surprise."

And the response to the decapitated cat speared into her front lawn?

"Your attempts at courtship, though admirable, are no longer desired, for I am now in a committed relationship. I shall, however, remember the gifts fondly as it was a first for me. May you find happiness in another soon enough."

Okay, no more screwing around. Time to break out the big guns.

The stalker, of course, followed Wednesday back to Nevermore, quickly discovering the identity her paramour: one Enid Sinclair. Recently-turned werewolf, bright where Wednesday was dark, smiling when the other frowned. But most critically, the chink in Wednesday's armor. What better way to extract a bloody revenge on the girl than by targeting her loved one? A few discrete photos, a overly-threatening message sent via text, and bam! A thoroughly shaken Wednesday ripe for the picking!

Right?

Wrong.

"While I am not unfamiliar with the idea of courting more than one paramour at a time, I am uncertain if Enid is willing to share. I shall bring it up with her in the near-future and respond posthaste. However, I would not hold out much hope as werewolves tend to be territorial. It is, after all, a stereotype for a reason."

While the stalker is busy screaming and violently smashing anything breakable in their vicinity (how did she not get it?!), Wednesday is true to her word and reveals the various messages to Enid. In an attempt to be more open and honest, she had already advised Enid of the existence of her secret admirer during their break (which had immediately prompted Enid to finally get off her tail and ask Wednesday to be her girlfriend), but this would be the first time she actually shared the images with her girlfriend.

A girlfriend who was as territorial as Wednesday anticipated. Enid was adamant that Wednesday cease contact with her admirer, though Wednesday didn't understand the vehemence behind the request. Her admirer was dangerous? Sick? The messages and gifts the acts of a madman? Wednesday nearly rolled her eyes. Untrue. This was simply someone who understood the intricacies of an Addams courtship. Still, while the admirer had intrigued her, Wednesday only had eyes for Enid. She would abide by her request and cease all contact. After one last message, of course.

"As I anticipated, Enid is not open to a poly relationship. She has also understandably requested I cease all contact with you and I shall abide by her request. Consider this my final message."

Wednesday then proceeded to "block" the sender on her phone. While she didn't understand jealousy herself, she knew it had the potential of poisoning a relationship as quickly as hemlock (to a normie, anyway), and would take whatever steps Enid requested in order to be a proper significant other.

Cue the stalker sending even more messages to Wednesday's phone via multiple burner accounts.

Cue Wednesday becoming exasperated at the now-unwanted amorous attention from her secret admirer, then handing Enid her phone to "finally block them for good."

Cue Enid seeking the assistance of the Nightshades to locate this stalker and make good on her promise to Wednesday to "finally block them for good."

Cue a whole lot of violence and screaming.

Cue a bloody Enid kissing the oblivious but always insanely attractive Wednesday who all but melts at the attention. While she adores her time with Enid, she can't help the shiver of excitement at Enid finally getting into the Addams way of courtship, blood and all.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔹𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ not a request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Happy Birthday to my shy hamster!! <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

Affiliation with @virtualbookstore

Kohane's birthday were coming... you were studying all the photos she sent you in recent months to not miss any clue what she might be silently hinting on. Maybe she wanted something specific for birthday?

You didn't knew if it was just a misunderstanding or if she was actally giving you hints... but she've been going out to bakery's and cafe's quite often... and took many nice photos of butterflies... so even if those weren't her hints, you took it as a hint from universe that you should bake something for your girlfirend's birthdays!

You decided to make vanilla-peach flavored cake with white chocolate butterflied on top! Maybe even few flowers? It all really depends if you have a lucky day and if your skills will decide to cooporate or not... but even if it'd be bad, you still would give your all!

You didn't really trust your skills in the end tho so you decided to ask An for little help! She agreed to let you use kitchen in Weekend Garage before opening hours and she even offered to help with chocolate butterflies!

What you and An forgot about tho was that VBS had a morning practice today... And you just discovered that by her bursting into the kitchen and yelling her discovery out loud.

"Y/N are you done yet?!! I totally forgot me and VBS have practice today at 8am!"

"An, IT'S 7:30AM!!"

"I know! I can try holding their attention away if you'll need some time, just try hurrying up a bit?"

You gave her a nod and with more motivation now, you tried working faster. The butterflies were luckily done already, all you had to do was put them on top of the small cake! But before that... you also had to put frosting on top and then package it nicely in case she decides to enjoy it at home.

You were just putting final touches when you heard cafe's bell. Technically it could be anyone but this soft voice doesn't belong to just anyone.. You knew well it was time for you to give your girlfriend a nice gift, but cake wasn't fully ready yet! You prefered to take your time with packaging rather than ruin your whole work so you just heard An trying to find quickly a good topic to not go in stage yet.

"A-An weren't we supposed to-"

"Happy Birthday, Kohane!!"

When An was running out of topics, you finally bursted out of the kitchen with pink box in hand decorated by white ribbons. You noticed the surprise and even slight blush on her cheeks but you still decided to deepen it by handing her your little gift.

She opened it carefully and An walked away to her dad to give you some privacy. Meanwhile Kohane's eyes were sparkling once she noticed the peach cake and little butterflies.

"It's- it's amazing! Did you really made it yourself?"

"Mhm! Do you like it?"

"Yes, I love it! I hope you don't mind if I try it at home... I don't think it's good idea to eat it before practice..."

"Of course not! That's actually part of the reason why I packed it."

You smiled when you saw how relieved she is that you thought of everything for her. You had plans for something more but you can always take her on a little date after her practice.

"(An, I owe you one...)"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your hamster girl!

[whoknoo]

“How did you know?” I asked, not sure I wanted the answer. I thought I had been careful. I thought she had spent the whole of last Saturday with Lisa, on their day trip to the coast. I had retrieved Mei’s gift no more than 1 hour and 24 minutes after it had been left at our front door.

Only then, in that single window of under 1.5 hours, at the heart of her outing, could she have been exposed to any evidence regarding the recent mailings. By every reliable calculation, this should have been the only possible breach in my discretion. After all, no other eyes were present to witness, and no action was ever taken in her presence. My paper trail was well covered, any potential sources, untraceable.

I had accounted for everything, including that bumbling private investigator, detective fellow, who couldn’t sort evidence from a deliberate plant. In addition, the shock in her reaction before me was proof enough of this discovery’s suddenness to-

Her shock slipped anyway, into a wry smirk.

But, she was covering, I assured myself. That’s all. Of course, there was my remark earlier, regarding the ‘gift I sent my mother,’ a copy of Fowles’s The Magus. Surely the explanation, assuming no foul play, was satisfactory. Therefore, she must have been harboring suspicions prior, though it was likely dismissed until now. That is, until the otherwise unimportant discrepancies in my explanation supplemented her theory. She must have noted something prior, particularly about the most recent package, that didn’t line up with my story. And the only source she would have in the package, itself having never been at the manor to begin with, was the mailing receipt, delivered late Saturday morning at precisely 11:17am, and retrieved by me at 12:31pm, after certain to have misled any possible snoop. And when she returned that evening, she made no indication that her day’s plans were changed. Clearly—

“The doorbell cam.”

My body’s heat flushed to my bowels.

“And I lied. About Saturday.” She stopped there. She knew I knew the rest.

My head felt such pressure, I could only think of one thing to say. “You—you slut.”

But she just smiled at me. “Right. Make sure to call before you come get anything.” She opened the door, “and tell your mom I said bye!”

F***.

[squoonsquoon]

Get to Know my Tav!

@owmyeyeballs showed me this so I am doing @sporeservant 's ask game for Myka! :D

Myka | Teifling | She/Her

What is your Tav’s…

favorite weapon: Hand Crossbows! She'll want to say "Pew, pew!" when she shoots. She doesn't, but she'd like to.

style of combat: Throw a spell on the ground, Moonbeam or Spike Growth, then Pew pew! Also supports her friends with healing spells. If she has a big buff friend, she gets them to throw her as a wild shape. It's a fun surprise for the enemy!

most prized possession: A locket from her friend! She hides it under her clothes, but brings it out when she's alone with fiddle with.

deepest desire: To find her parents. She more than anything wants her family to feel whole again.

guilty pleasure: Cheesy romance. She found a book once and it made her heart flutter! She'd like a cheesy romance of her own..

best-kept secret: She's pretty bad at keeping secrets, and most people can already guess her secrets. But the one she tries really hard to keep is her crush on Astarion. It's painfully obvious though.

greatest strength: She's very curious, and eager to learn new things. She'll have picked up plenty of skills and hobbies by the end of her adventure!

fatal flaw: She trusts too easily. Letting people get close to her and leaving back wide open to get stabbed. She's just lucky things haven't gone bad, and that she's had other people to watch her back.

favorite smell: A little bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy! It only recently became her favorite smell (for no reason at all). Before this is was roses.

favorite spell or cantrip: Guidance. She likes to be helpful!

pet peeve: Wizards. They think they're sooooo smart and powerful. (Looking at Gale and Rolan. She didn't like them at first but they grew on her)

bad habit: Running off without thinking. She has only very narrowly missed traps because her friends manage to grab her tail in time to pull her back.

hidden talent: She's a fast learner. If someone shows her how to do something, she can catch on quite quickly.

leisure activity: Snacking, sunbathing as a cat, making flower chains, sleeping in her pile of soft pillows tent.

favorite drink: Fruit juice. Freshly squeezed!

comfort food: tarts! Sweet or savory, she likes how they're packaged.

favorite person: She's got a lot of favorites; her sister Eli, her buddy Karlach, but most favorite is Astarion.

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Physical touch. She loves hugs and being held. She also takes a pet as a cat like no problem!

fondest childhood memory: Visits from her dear friend, Urelia. They were the one who found her alone and with no memory. Urelia tried to visit at least once a year, and those days Myka would get to hear stories from the outside and get fun gifts.

Is there anything else you'd like to share? (feel free to include art or a screenshot of your Tav if available!): Myka likes to meet new people! And I am loving drawing peoples tavs with her :3 Thanks to all the people who've sent tavs and for anyone who does so in the future! <3

[luke-o-lophus]

A Ship of Theseus

Summary: Half a year after Ammit, the Moon Boys have moved in with Layla again. One day, there's a special delivery. A blast from the past, in the most mundane way imaginable.

A/N: A character study of an adult survivor of childhood abuse. What is means for memories, belongings, and justice

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

It's another of those days.

On most days recently, stuff around the house is just...stuff. Then every once in a while, they seem to stare back at him. Try to provoke him into a conversation, introspection, memories.

Until recently, there wasn't a lot of belongings Marc had held on to. When he'd left the house, he could take only as much as he could fit in two bags. And he definitely wasn't aiming to include keepsakes. In a way, that had been easier: living in a space that looked absolutely different. It was easier to pretend the child in his memories wasn't really him, or at best was just a version of him. It's been fifteen years since.

When Marc moved back in with Layla, half a year past the Ammit situation, things had become completely different. Steven was in the picture now, and he came with his massive stack of books and an aquarium Marc found unnecessarily huge for two fish. "It's bigger than my army room", Marc had grumbled to Layla one evening as he helped her carry her stuff into their new apartment.

Between her and Steven, it's easy to lose yourself in the warmth of home. At least that's what Marc had hoped to do. Until Elias called again. As he does. When Marc refused to speak to him, Steven suddenly found himself on call with a father he had no memory of having. But Elias called to talk business. He was selling some old furniture from the house; too much stuff for one person he said. Layla listened to it all with rapt attention as her husband curled up on her lap. It was the memories that were hanging too heavy on Elias, that much was obvious. But she wouldn't tell Marc that, she wouldn't set him on another path of feeling guilt for his choice of cutting contacts. Marc had already done enough, and Elias not nearly so.

Two months later, Packers and Movers delivered a mountain of packages from his once 'home'. Marc eyed the pile with obvious distress, second guessing his choice of accepting the unused furniture just sitting around the house. It'd saved them good bucks they could now use towards a proper honeymoon in the Maldives.

The biggest piece of furniture was a heavy desk, now dismantled into pieces and neatly packed. It had been a gift from his grandfather when he turned five. The man liked to spoil his grandkids. In the years since, the table became his sanctuary. He sketched and played on it, and hid under it when needed. The table had been his constant, his only witness. The only piece of wood in that house he found claim to.

But seeing it now, in this form, sent a chill down his spine. The power tools were ready, it'd take just hours to put it all together. Piece by piece, construct back the silent observer of all those childhood experiences: the ones he remembered, and the ones forever lost to memory. He'd have to bring them back, by his own hands.

Layla was only a little surprised when she came home that evening. Normally Marc hated having things lying around, leading to endless complaints of Steven's untidiness. But she'd guessed the table would be, quite literally, a lot to unpack.

"You don't have to", she told him over a cup of tea. "We can sell it, or put it in storage somewhere. Anything." Marc sighed deeply, shaking his head. "It's mine. But I...", he didn't really want it around. It wasn't comforting. His home with his wife and his alter was his safe haven.

But it's also sacred. Some planks of wood simply nailed together; the weight of which only his tiny young shoulders knew. In one teasing example of the ship of Theseus, Steven told him. If you take it apart piece by piece, and build it back together, is it the same anymore?

Marc doesn't know. He leaves the philosophical shit to him and Layla. But he does know what it makes him feel, unlike either of them. It's only him, and the voice inside of him, flaring up from all those scared memories of a bruised kid hidden beneath the wide tabletop. Teary eyes demanding justice...from himself if not from anyone else.

It's been almost thirty years, and Marc still doesn't know what justice looks like for them. How is he supposed to make the correct decision? From the opposite wall, the propped up packages seem to follow every movement...observing, judging, waiting.

"I was thinking...", Layla chimes in breaking his train of thought. "We should head to Maldives in October. Weather should clear up by then...and it won't be too hot." Marc purses his lips in thought, considering the idea, glancing between the cardboard and Layla's jade black eyes.

"That's two months, huh? Yeah...should be enough time to plan", he shrugs. "Tell Steven, he'll be thrilled." "We can finish setting up the flat when we're back", she starts washing the cups. Marc stares at her back, as she's seemingly lost in her world. Another deep sigh, his eyes closed, memories of the desk, memories of this kitchen countertop, Layla sitting on it...the day they made S'mores together. "Yeah...", he smiles, walking up to her and putting the cups away. "I'll....put these in the storeroom till then?"

"Yeah sure, we can deal with them once we're back." she flashes him a blinding grin. "So, honeymoon, huh?"

Marc chuckles, and wraps her in his warmest hug.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

The top photo is the Christmas gift I made for Mom. The bottom is why.

Time for the story of “Texas Tiger”.

When I was a baby Mom gave me her toys. She only had two, after a life that had taught her painfully not to get attached to objects. One was a doll with a plastic head and red body, but she had no name. The other was “Texas Tiger”.

“Texas Tiger” was special. I knew that. The very fact he had a name, peculiarly inappropriate for a lion, was sign enough. But there was something about the way Mom spoke of him that made it clear. There was a smile in her voice, love in her eyes.

I loved him too. He had a bit more fur and still a little paint on his eyes back them. I loved him to bits, very nearly literally. I was a child, and when you are a child love doesn’t mean a shelf but cuddling.

Why Mom loved him so I never questioned. I figured it was a cute gift from her brother, and that was all. And then I found Mom’s diaries and letters she wrote Pop before she was married.

When Mom turned 16 she was having a rough time in her life.

Her parents had divorced, a fact they didn’t even tell her directly. She was stuck living with her father and a brand new step mother, which would be awkward enough. Her father was always rather cool to her, distant, making her always wonder if he loved her or merely endured her. The step mother being very young, not all that much older than Mom, made it harder.

But it gets worse. Just during this time this diary covered he step mother had a medical problem and then had a baby and her father’s heart trouble led to him having a heart attack in the classroom while teaching. He father was a teacher that went from job to job, so they moved a lot and had no money. Naturally her father wanted a permanent job, and the place he was working said he could have one if he certain updated degree. So off he went to the next state to a university, taking the family, selling the car to pay, enrolling….and then getting a letter within weeks that they had given the job to someone else. Broke, no new job lined up, the moved to the farm land his family owned. Trouble was, drifters had destroyed the little house so the family was stuck living by a campfire for the summer…

Now most of this happened after “Texas Tiger” showed up, but I explain all these things to explain why the people in her life had a lot of things on their mind besides her 16th birthday.

Mom had been excited. Normally someone that even so young wrote matter of factly in neat handwriting staying within the lines, the page was visibly different. She’d written all in the margins, at angles, big letters, tons of exclamation points, several times : “I’m 16!!!!!!!” It was utterly adorable.

And then no one cared.

No gifts. No cards. No cake. No one even mentioning it to her.

Mom always shrugs things off, but I could feel how crushed she was radiating of the page. Unloved.

And then the next day she came home and there was a package for her.

Texas Tiger.

Her brother in the air force had sent her the gift, and he’d even named him. The letter was tucked in the diary, explaining it was a reference to where he was, and that he had wanted a stuffed tiger but a lion had to do.

I’m sure he didn't know the full meaning the gift had to her. It was proof she was loved.

I’ve been reading recently discovered letters Mom wrote Pop when they were in college, and today, on a sad Christmas day, I got to one with a surprising sentence.

“I still love you, even better than I love Texas Tiger.”

Mom, now in her twenties and just five months from marrying Pop, was using this toy tiger as the ultimate in love! it’s like a sign I made the right choice in gift for Mom!

I can’t tell you the magic moment I decided to make a lion for Mom, but it felt right even before I consciously realized the Texas Tiger connection.

Mom gave me her beloved lion to watch over me as a baby, and now I was sending a lion to watch over her. I was sending her love.

I wish she had felt up to talking today, so I could have said that to her.

[3584-tropical-fish]

It’s become a bit of a trend of mine to write epistolary novel style fics that require tons of research for really mundane things. So, I’ve found myself with one regarding Ms. Perumal trying to find her kid, featuring phone calls varying in their level of helpfulness, anagrams, and a brochure about fishing locales.

Also written under the cut if a Google doc is not ideal.

Letter, addressed to Reynie Muldoon, Boatwright Academy, 100 Copernicus Road, ST0087

Dear Reynie,

Congratulations on your acceptance to Boatwright! I’m so proud of you, and I always will be. I sent a package with some of your belongings and a couple gifts from me, but do let me know if there’s anything I missed. And, of course, you are always welcome to reach out if you ever need me. You know where to find me.

I know this is a big change for you, but I also know that everything will turn out perfectly fine. You can do this! You’ll learn a lot more from the Boatwright Academy than what I could ever teach you, and I know that this will be a great opportunity for you. Though, as I’ve said, I’ll be here if you ever need me.

Much love,

Ms. Perumal

Phone call, Ms. Dipika Perumal and Boatwright Academy Offices

MAN: Boatwright Academy, how can I help you?

MS. PERUMAL: Good afternoon. I recently sent a package to Reynard Muldoon, a new student at your school? It just arrived back at my house, and I wanted to make sure that he was alright.

MAN: Things don’t just get sent back, maybe there was a mistake in the address you wrote. Nothing to worry about.

MS. PERUMAL: I’ve double checked it multiple times, I am certain that I haven’t made any errors.

MAN: Well, if there wasn’t a mistake, I’m afraid I can’t help you any more. We–

MS. PERUMAL: You’re the only ones that can! I cannot reach out to him any other way.

MAN: (sighing) What was the name? I’ll see what I can find but I can’t guarantee–

MS. PERUMAL: (frustrated) Muldoon. M-U-L-D-O-O-N. Reynard Muldoon.

MAN: Ma’am, I’m sorry, but–

MS. PERUMAL: This is the Boatwright Academy, isn’t it?

MAN: It is, but our policy states that we are not allowed to disclose any information about our students to non-family members.

MS. PERUMAL: (increasingly firm) Be that as it may, I sent a package to one of your students. Why was it returned?

MAN: I have no idea.

MS. PERUMAL: He is a student there, is he not?

MAN: Ma’am, there’s no Reynard Muldoon enrolled here.

MS. PERUMAL: There must be a mistake. Tell your headmaster that I’m on my way to talk to her in person.

(call ends)

Security Feed, Boatwright Academy Headmaster’s Office

(The HEADMASTER sits at her desk, typing something on a computer. After a moment, there is a knock at the door.)

HEADMASTER: Come in.

(MS. PERUMAL enters and sits in the chair across from the HEADMASTER.)

HEADMASTER: (curtly) Ms. Perumal?

MS. PERUMAL: (just as curtly) Yes.

HEADMASTER: You are lucky that I agreed to see you, Ms. Perumal. You have no affiliation with anyone at this school, but we deemed it more beneficial to everyone involved if we prevented you from… (pause) breaking in.

(The HEADMASTER shifts to fully face MS. PERUMAL and places a paper in front of her.)

HEADMASTER: A class roster, M section, of course. You’ll notice there is no “Muldoon”.

(MS. PERUMAL picks up the paper and skims through it. She frowns.)

MS. PERUMAL: He would’ve been admitted just a few days ago, are you certain this is up to date?

HEADMASTER: (sighing) Yes. I printed it just this morning. Our records are updated upon any student’s admission. Reynard Muldoon is not a student here.

(MS. PERUMAL rifles through her bag and pulls out her own paper. It is a newspaper from a week or so prior. She places it on the table.)

MS. PERUMAL: What’s this then? (reading aloud) “Are you a gifted child looking for special opportunities? Boatwright Academy is offering gifted children a chance to participate in a special testing day. Children who pass the test will be offered a full scholarship to Boatwright Academy”. My student attended these exams, and, following their conclusion, I received a call that he had been admitted into the Boatwright Academy. (with force) Why is he not here?

(The HEADMASTER frowns.)

HEADMASTER: Those tests are run by an affiliate of ours. They informed us that no one had passed the tests this year.

(MS. PERUMAL looks stricken.)

HEADMASTER: Is there anything else?

(Silence)

MS. PERUMAL: No, I— no. (She clears her throat.) You’ve helped me enough. (MS. PERUMAL stands.) Thank you for your time.

HEADMASTER: Of course. I hope everything turns out well.

(MS. PERUMAL nods, turns, and exits the room.)

(feed ends)

Phone call, Ms. Dipika Perumal and The Stonetown Gazette Offices

CAROLINE: You’ve reached The Stonetown Gazette, my name is Caroline. What can I help you with today?

MS. PERUMAL: I’m looking for the name of the person or organization who ran the ad that offered scholarship opportunities for the Boatwright Academy. They did not include clear contact information and I’d like to get in touch.

CAROLINE: I’ll see what I can find, ma’am. What did the ad say, exactly?

MS. PERUMAL: In large font, “Are you a gifted child looking for special opportunities?” It was quite unique.

CAROLINE: Ah, yes. I remember that one. Quite unique, indeed. Excuse me for a moment while I look for this, I’m going to put you on hold.

(soft piano music)

(several moments pass)

CAROLINE: Unfortunately, I only have a name, no further contact information, though I’m sure you could reach out to the Boatwright Academy for further details. It was paid for by Cheri Turpintown. Spelled C-H-E-R-I, T-U-R-P-I-N-T-O-W-N. Anything else I can do for you, ma’am?

MS. PERUMAL: Oh, no. That’s all I needed. Thank you very much.

CAROLINE: Of course! Have a nice day, now.

MS. PERUMAL: And you too.

(call ends)

Stonetown Registrar, List of Local Business Owners

CHERI TURPINTOWN

Affiliation: Boatwright Academy

Phone: None

Address: None

Journal, Owned by Ms. Dipika Perumal

Cheri Turpintown

Placed the ad

No known address

Connections to Boatwright

Possibly the test proctor

cheriturpintown

cehiinnoprttuw

port

ton

in

truth in ceinoprw

prow cein ice

power cin inc

truth in power inc

Power in Truth Inc.

Stowntown Registrar, List of Local Businesses (Shell Companies)

POWER IN TRUTH, INC.

Owner: Withheld by request

Phone: None

Address: None

PO Box: Power in Truth, Inc.

PO Box 2733

Stonetown, USA 02748

Security Feed, Stonetown Market (Video Only)

(MS. PERUMAL approaches a storefront. This store belongs to the FISHMONGER.)

(The FISHMONGER greets her and asks a question. MS. PERUMAL shakes her head and asks something in return. She speaks for a moment, making some gestures with her hands, and eventually points toward the salmon displayed behind the FISHMONGER.)

(The FISHMONGER frowns and shakes his head.)

(MS. PERUMAL says something more, and swiftly walks away and out of sight.)

Brochure, Stonetown Fish and Game Commission: Fishing Locations

There are a multitude of picturesque locations in and around Stonetown that are perfect for fishing. The waters off the coast are known for their catches of mackerel, sea bass, Atlantic cod, and plenty of other species. Beginners can find many coastal areas or freshwater ponds and rivers in the area, while more seasoned fishers can try their hand at sites off the coast.

Due to the importance of fishing on the local economy, fishing licenses are required in almost all shorelines and waters off the coast of Stonetown. Licenses can easily be acquired from the Stonetown Fish and Game Commission offices, but caution should still be taken to not fish in dangerous areas or private property.

Should one wish to spend a weekend casually fishing without a license, the Beauchamps Woods, central to one of Stonetown’s many public parks, is home to a two-mile stretch of shoreline where unlicensed fishing is permitted. For convenience, multiple trails lead to various spots in the area.

[image: A map of a section of Stonetown’s coast, which is surrounded by Beauchamps Woods. Multiple trails are marked in colorful lines throughout the area, most leading to various spots along the water. Across the water, on the edge of the map, one side of Harbor Island is pictured. Boxed in red, centered on the map, is a section of coast that is labeled “UNLICENSED FISHING AREA”.

This particular brochure copy has multiple trail ends crossed out but one, which seems to have a good view of Harbor Island, is circled in several frantic rings.]

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Archived blog post by Optical Atlas about "2nd Imaginary Symphony for Cloudmaking" and hand drawn Music Tapes t-shirts

[copy below, in case link would not work]

In 2002 Julian Koster of the Music Tapes notified those on E6 Townhall that he was going to begin selling CD-R copies of his upcoming albumThe 2nd Imaginary Symphony for Cloudmaking. A little while later he came through with a first shipment, and fans received a CD-R with a strand of Julian's hair just hanging out from under a label depicting crayon-colored clouds. Because of a long delay in shipping the orders, he sent a hand-drawn "Friends of the Music Tapes" tee-shirt with each package. Julian also mentioned that he had so much fun sending out these packages that he was considering self-releasing the album instead of sending it out via Merge Records. He told us that what we had was a rough mix, and was already becoming more layered and complex as he worked on it.

My wife and I sat down to listen to the 2nd Imaginary Symphony on September 11, 2002, finally turning off the television after endless retrospectives that featured the same footage of planes crashing into the towers. The album begins with a little bit of singing saw, and a narrator--not Julian, but the sort who might narrate one of those old Walt Disney storybook records for children--tells us the story of a young boy named Nigh who follows a mysterious older friend to a factory that produces the clouds of the sky. Apart from the saw (which succumbs to a lovely crescendo in the finale), there's no singing, and no songs. But it's quintessential Music Tapes.

A little while after that we received a second package, a second CD-R, and two more tee shirts. Apparently Julian lost his first shipment list, found our letter, and send one tee shirt for my wife and myself, thinking we hadn't received the first one. I gave the CD-R to my brother-in-law as a birthday gift; I don't believe he ever listened to it. The tee shirts we haven't worn, and they're a bit wrinkled in these photos because for a couple years they've been tucked into a dresser. Now they're hanging up, and I'll have to iron them and take one out on the town when the weather gets warmer. It's almost four years since Julian sent the CD-Rs out, but last August Julian recently posted at the Townhall to reassure us that more Music Tapes material is coming, including the official release of the 2nd Imaginary Symphony. He wrote: "Hello, hello! Goodmornings, afternoons, and evenings to you all! I just wanted to share with you all that the song album is being mastered in early September, and has in fact left the womb, and though I love it very much It is now time to let it go lead its own life. The final version of the story record has already been mastered, and is worth waiting for (rather than seeking out the early versions i promise). There will not be any word on release dates untill early fall, so I'm afraid there IS still a wait before you, but much shorter than those you've grown use to." In the meantime, I know some have been curious to see what the shirts* looked like, so here are some photos. The most elaborate shirt features the following text (all grammar and spellings are "sic"):

"Late August, corner of W. 80th St. and Amsterdam Avenue in New York City. 2000 and two. And old woman in a rain slicker is loading most of her belongings into a trunk on the street. Her belly is full of Hominy Grits. She learned the recipie from her Grandmother as a little girl. She still remembers drawing pictures with her bare Fingers in the Steam clouded windows accross from the stove. She still remembers fealing warm and Safe. How her grandfather could make a spoon float several feet in the air above her, without even lifting a finger. He seldome Spoke, and never Smiled. This parlor trick was the Sole means of Communication between them. I hope she doesn't mind me writing all of this down. She does Not know me, nor I, her. I am familliar only with the warmth that traveled A million human miles and took the care to visit her image upon me for even the briefest of Moments. She will load her trunk intoo the Caboose of a Great passenger train. She will fall in love with a man her own age. Together they will invent a methode of playing the piano that allows for the Storage and Compartmentalization of time. In this way they will begin the Capturing and preservation of indevidual moments. They will build themselves a Workshop in a functioning German Clock tower. They will begin with the preservation of random moments, and eventualy find themselves drawn mostly to moments of sentimentality. The Old Woman sits and blows on her fingers. It's winter. Her hands are cold. She Plays a moment from her childhood. A windy day, the Sun filters through the clouds. It's 1920. There is a great wind, and the mustache of a distinguished gentleman is blown clear off his face. The moustache, a trimmed handlebar, takes flight, Flapping through the air in a birdlike fashion. It is soon joined by the moustaches of Several other men. The wind blows and blows. The moustaches, now numbering in the thousands, migrate Southward for the winter. The old woman stops playing. The Old man walks over to her and Smiles. They love each other dearly. In time they will run out of moments of their own sentimentality to distill and preserve. And so they will begin to detail yours. At 1st you will apear to them in dreams. Only when you wear this Shirt. They will coment on their common dreams, and begin to compare notes. In their dreams they will always try to read this Shirt. They will never succede. My Writing is too small and illegeible. My spelling to difficult to decode. They will grow fond of you, and look forwards always to the next time you put on the Shirt. They will share with you your moments of sentimentality. Play them over and over again on their Piano. In time you will come to feal them....and Never again will you feal alone."

*On the subject of Elephant 6 shirts: lou2ser wants your E6 tee-shirt photos for his flickr archive. His shirts are less wrinkly than mine.

[creepyalienghost]

Audrey’s Reunion

Tom and Allison had invited mostly everyone from the old studio for a get together. Everyone was going from the art department to the music department was going. Even Audrey their bosses daughter. Yes she was the daughter of the man who ruined all their lives one way of another, abused, tricked, sacrificed. He did horrible things to all of them. But she wasn’t her father and did best to stay away from that path, so they invited her. She hardly knew them but felt it was a way to say -I’m sorry for what he did - and decided to go.

We she arrived at their house many of them were there. The janitor, Wally Franks was walking in with a chocolate cake, she recognized the short music Director and the tall projectionist next to him. She didn’t remember their names but knows the music Director suffered under her father. Sitting under a tree was the voice actress, Susie Campbell. She knew what Joey did to her and her beloved part. Many more were sitting around taking or dancing, including Henry.

She remembered him, coming to her mothers house to check on her. After being taken away from her father from neglect she was sent to her mothers house. Henry would stop by on days like holidays and birthdays, bringing her gifts and becoming a dad to her. He was more of one then Joey was but one day he had moved away for a better years ago. It’s been nearly a decade.

She parked and pulled herself out of the car, heading over to the party. Henry looked up at her and smiled. “Hey there Audrey!” He got up and hugged her.

“Hello Henry!” She hugged him back. “Hows California?” She ask as they both sat down.

Henry smiled as he thought. “It’s going well. I recently was hired for another cartoon studio! Before that I was teaching art for a good while.” He replied and moved his hands as he talk about it. “How goes it for you?”

Audrey leaned back in her chair a bit. “It’s alright. Busy mostly with juggling between college and work.” She replied. “The classes are great but the homework sucks.”

Henry chuckled. “ I been there.” He nodded. “You know I’m glad your haven’t followed in your father’s footsteps. You made you’re life you’re own. I’m proud.”

Audrey’s faced turned serious in an instant. “I still don’t understand all he did and why? He hurt so many people I know that…but I don’t know how he did and why he would.”

“That stuff he was into..the occult ..it got to his head…” Henry replied, looking away as memories flashed in his mind. “Most of us…still haven’t recovered from that… I got a way after seeing some signs and dealing with beginning…others had it worst.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that….” Audrey replied.

“Promise me…” Henry mumbled then looked her straight in the eye. “Promise me you will never look into the occult. Ever!” He ask.

She took a moment to think before nodded. “ I promise….” He replied but only half way meaning it. She was curious, after all.

“Good.” He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I hope you keep that promise.” Henry said before switching the conversation. “Now let’s talk about your art.”

The rest of the night Audrey talked with Henry and the others and tried some of the food and even danced. Forgetting who she was for a bit was a nice change. She even sang a good with Sammy the music director. However once she got said her goodbyes to them and arrived home, she saw that her package arrived. The package that holds an occult book.

[taito-division]

Among the mountain of presents delivered to her birthday, somehow a certain simple but peculiar package wrapping in the neat piece of cloth has caught her eye.

With a letter attached between the folds of cloth, the renowned MMA fighter and descendant of Viking warriors picks it up and give it some read;

“Hello Iwasaki-san and greetings Taito Division. This letter is from Nara Division and recently this season has become my turn to deliver our birthday blessings on account of the rest of my team www. 

Unfortunately, I still have classes and a work shift today so I can’t deliver them in person, but if you’re reading this, then I guess our presents are safely sent to your home. Now, let me introduce what we’ve chosen as your birthday gifts.

I’ll go with Hi-chan’s first!

He made you the Hourai manju. If I remember correctly, they’re believed to bring happiness and are quite the good picks for the celebration …and also the wedding —That may be why he wants to send both of you some little gifts since we’re a bit late in knowing your good news with Kirumi-san (Well, congratulations again to your wedding!). Maybe we should enjoy life like enjoy these manju; looking plain from the outside, some of us may never expect to find a lot of small colorful manju packed inside unless you want to savor them. 

And next one is Saigo-san’s Narazake. 

Well, it would be a lie if I say I’m not biased to anything related to my hometown (I also don’t know much about liquor btw). Still, I want to insist that the sake from our hometown is the top-graded one! Granted that they are chosen by that picky old man of all people.

And we’ve come to the last;

Japan’s summer has always felt a bit overbearing as of late. Also, at this time around, heat stroke has become rather popular in not a good way. So, it makes me think maybe I should send something that can help beat these crazy heatwaves… 

Hanging around your neck, it’s a portable neck fan; light, rechargeable, and doesn’t contain any blades inside! It has no need to be worried of getting your hairs caught up in the device as well.

Lastly; Happy Birthday, Stay hydrated, and please don’t do too much work-out during the death heat of the day.

—Hope you and your team have a great (and safe) summer

Yuuya Kanata”

Looking at the box wrapped in the red cloth, the MMA fighter cocked an eyebrow as she held the box in one hand and read the letter attached to it in the other. Blinking with her one good eye, she shrugged as she opened the package and looked at the manjū. Biting into one of them, her mouth experienced many different flavors, some good and some... out there. It wasn't bad, but she didn't know if she could eat these things on a daily basis. Shrugging, Eldrid finished it off and left the remaining one for her wife, Kirumi when she returned home.

Looking at the next gift, Eldrid smiled at the sake bottles. Ever since she had married Kirumi, she tried to control her drinking to only three or four times a week. She would just count this as one of those days.

"I'll save you three for later tonight," Eldrid said, putting the bottles in her fridge.

Looking at the other gift, Eldrid's eyes grew as looked at the neck fan. She had been wanting to buy one of these for the longest ever since Summer started but had never found time or had been putting it off. Placing the device around her neck, she turned it on and felt a blast of cold air hit her, making her smile.

"Better break this thing in now while I can." She said as she headed to her room, coming out three minutes later in her jogging outfit. "Yuma, I'm going for a run. Call me if you need something."

With that, the MMA fighter opened the door and started off down the street until she was out of sight. Today was shaping up to be a good birthday.

Thanks for the gift!

[medicus-felini]

Special Valentines Ask Delivery!

The person making the delivery this time is a different one. What happened to the last one? No one really knows. It’s not the first time something gets send to the Victoria Punk. This one is for the doctor of the Kid pirates. Jeanne looks down at the rather heavy package she’s carrying, silently wondering what is in it. The Red-haired emperor had been very insistent that this one should only be handed to the ships doctor personally. One more look from the package in her hand towards the ship that was docked in the port. Man, she hoped things would work out well. She wasn’t crazy enough to walk onto a pirate ship without permission, so she waited, sighing in relief when she finally spotted movement on the ship. “EXCUSE ME?!” Whoever it was had heard her without a doubt. “I’VE GOT A DELIVERY FOR MISS LINN! IT’S RATHER IMPORTANT!” She didn’t mention from whom the delivery was on purpose. They could figure it out on their own for all she cared.

The package itself was wrapped in dark red and black paper with a surprisingly neatly bow, shaped like a heart, on top. Inside the package there are rare medicine books, another bottle of the spiced wine that had been send around Christmas and some new catnip toys, as well as a box of chocolate filled with alcohol. The card attached to it reads the following:

Miss Linn,

I hope the delivery finds you in time. I’ve heard it has been your birthday too not to long ago. Please forgive me for not sending anything in time, I’ve had my hand full. I’ve sent some more this time to make up for it. If you want more of the things, I’ve send just let me know and I’ll make sure to get them delivered to you as fast as possible. Happy Valentines Day and a belated happy birthday

Shanks ❤

`♡´ 𝕍𝔸𝕃𝔼ℕ𝕋𝕀ℕ𝔼'𝕊 𝔻𝔸𝕐 `♡´

────────────────────────

      𝐉𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐚𝗿𝗿𝐢𝘃𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝘁𝐨 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝘂𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝘀 𝐟𝘂𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝘃𝐚𝗿𝐢𝐨𝘂𝘀 𝘀𝐢𝖟𝐞𝘀 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝘀 𝐟𝗿𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝗿 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝘁𝐡𝐥𝘆 𝐡𝐚𝘂𝐥 𝘀𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝘁𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝗿𝐤𝐞𝘁, 𝘀𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝘆 𝘄𝐚𝘀 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝗿 𝐡𝐞𝗿   ?      One ear stands up, taking in the words from the cautious lady, holding a package, of some sort. Carefully, one bag after another is placed next to the wooden boxes, ready to be loaded onto the sip. Linn's body turns towards the mysterious messenger with an even more mysterious gift.

     ❝ That would be me. Hm, what do we have here   ?   Can't remember ordering anything as of recently . . . ❞     she muses. The handwriting was instantly recognized. Every word that was written makes her lips tug up in an even wider smile. A blush accompanies her happy, flushed expression. Why yes, it was wrong to feel so drawn to a note from one of her captain's enemies. He doesn't have to know, though.

Unbelievable, that Shanks still finds a way to make out their coordinates. Sending letters, gifts, and whatnot.

    What a

        Darling.

     ❝ Ahhhh, Mr. Shanks. Please, I hope he did not give you a hard time when sending you on your way. I would hate that. Y-You have a minute more   ?   I would love to give you something on your way for him. ❞     They have not exchanged their den-den mushi yet. A good opportunity to sneakily initiate more frequent communication, so to speak.

[ncsf]

Business Insider: “I’m getting my husband’s girlfriend a gift for Valentine’s Day”

🚨📰 NCSF Media Update

“When I finally opened the package, I was delighted. It was from Pippy, Cole's girlfriend. In poly circles, Pippy and I are what's known as metamours — we're not partnered to each other, but we share a partner in common. Nine months into her relationship with Cole, Pippy and I had just started to become good friends. She had sent me a Valentine, which included an elaborate card that said, ‘World's Best Metamour,’ and, ‘Let's overthrow social norms together.’”

// NCSF Media Updates are a sampling of recent stories printed in US newspapers, magazines, and selected websites containing significant mention of BDSM-leather-fetish, polyamory, or Lifestyle issues and topics.

These stories may be positive, negative, accurate, inaccurate or anywhere in between. NCSF urges everyone to make comments that dispute stereotypes about alternative sexuality. //