#headband is the last step before casing in!

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

PAGES OF A HEART (M)

★  PAIRING: HockeyPlayer! Haechan x reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 9k

★ GENRE(S): strangers to lovers, Hate to love, Smut

☆ SUMMARY: You have been begging your campus librarian to let you join the staff for ages, but when she finally lets you on, you’re disappointed to find out that the campus’s star hockey player also joins. Can the two of you work things out after a rough start?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Sexual intercourse, Unprotected sex, 

☆★ NOTES: Wrap it before you tap it. This was supposed to be fluff but I was weak and had to do hate to lovers. Like lol, I bet no one can guess my favorite trope! Bickering is my love language ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Leave nice comments, please <3 

Peace, escapism, and silence.

That is what you usually find when you go to the library. You love going to the library, whether it be to study, read or just get away from your normally hectic dorm. Today is different, though; today you will find all of those things and more. 

When you walk into the library, you greet Mrs. Lee as normal. She was the sole staff member of your college's small, cozy library. Mrs. Lee takes immense pride in her job and refuses to work with anyone else. She is very particular about the upkeep of the books, and honestly, you love her for that. The books stay in pristine condition thanks to her care. Even the dean has acknowledged her efforts. Ever since she took over the library, the campus has had to spend less money on maintenance, so he doesn't feel the need pressure her to hire more staff.

The only downside is that if Mrs. Lee gets sick, they’ll have to close the library since there is no one else to run it. Luckily, that hasn't happened yet, but you've made it your life mission to make sure it never does. You love going to the library, and you have been trying to convince her for months to let you join the staff. You weren't even asking for full-time, just maybe on the days she wanted to take some time off. You think you’re making progress; she gave you a “maybe” last week instead of a flat-out no.

You make your way to your favorite spot in the library before someone else gets to it. Normally, you arrive at the library as soon as it opens every day to secure your preferred spot. It's a little overkill because not many students wake up at 7 to make it to the library, but it was close to finals, so you wouldn't be surprised to see a few faces. Today you were only 5 minutes later than usual, but it seems that's all it took. 

Right there, sitting in the nook at the large window in the back corner of the library, is the prettiest man you have ever laid eyes on. The morning light shone over his tan skin like it was honey. His cute, plump lips blow at the messy hair that hangs in his eyes. He shifted his soft brown hair back with his hand before flipping to the next page in his book. 

Speechless.

You couldn't do anything but gawk at the man who sat in your designated seat. Normally, you would have passive-aggressively walked by the person, giving them an evil look, on your way to find somewhere else to sit, but you couldn't even manage that. You were expecting him to catch you with your mouth hanging open, but you caught yourself off guard with what you did next. 

He's struggling again to brush his hair out of his face, and you can't take it anymore. Your feet move before you can think and your hands are not to far behind as they dig in your bag for your spare headband. You kept one of those soft, stretchy headbands in your bag just in case you wanted to keep your hair out of your face.

In just a quick few steps, your standing in front of him, hand outstretched, offering up your headband. When he looks up at you, your breath almost catches. He is so freaking handsome. Before, it was impossible to notice, but his face and neck are covered in the most beautiful beauty marks, resembling stars. Up close, his lips appear soft, and he looks at you with the roundest doe eyes. You will not have this fine man thinking Your a weirdo So you force the air back into your lungs and speak to him.

“I'm sorry, I just thought you might want this... for your hair,” you say awkwardly. 

"Thank you; my coach keeps telling me I should cut it," he says with a soft smile, taking the headband from you. Placing the book down, he raises his hair out of his eyes with the headband. He had such a beautiful face that it should have been illegal for his hair to ever cover it up. You steal a quick peek at the book he was reading while he occupies himself with that. 

Oh Lord, you might actually be in love. He was reading a book by one of your favorite authors. The book he was reading was the final installment in a series you have been reading since high school. The book was actually just published a few months ago. You try so hard not to look like a fangirl, but you figure since he's reading it, he'll understand.

“Oh my God, is that midnight’s crossing? I just finished that book last week. The series is so good I love Vora; she's one of my favorite characters! She had such a well-written character arc in the second book.” You gush on about the book. You don't want to sound like your rambling so you cut your rant short. His soft smile makes you feel comfortable and you return it shyly.

“Yeah, I actually only just picked up the series recently. Normally, I don't have much time to read but I couldnt put the book down. I read the first three books in one month.” Clearly more interested in the conversation than you had initially assumed, he sits up a little straighter. “Vora was an alright character, but I think Theo is a more interesting character. I think that's why I'm really enjoying this book because it centers more on his backstory.” 

Theo!? Maybe your not so in love. Theo wasn't a terrible character, but he was definitely written to appeal to a male audience. Theo’s character was your typical macho man; you didn't really care that much for his story line. 

The poor guy doesn't even know his favorite character was going to get killed off in this book. One would think he would have noticed how strange it was that a minor supporting character would suddenly have a backstory in the series' final book. You had seen this pattern before, and it usually ended up in a character's death

“Theo’s alright,” you say. “He's gonna get a crazy fight sequence near the end.” 

His face lights up, and he shows you a beautiful, toothy grin. “really!? I can't wait; I've been waiting on them to give him a good fight!” 

You almost feel bad for…..”What was your name?”

“Haechan, and you?”

You tell him your name and let him get back to his book. He would soon find out that Theo's grand battle would be his last, and you did not want to stick around for that. It was a small prank in good fun. Sure, he was insanely handsome, but he stole your favorite spot. Not to mention, he thinks your favorite character is mid. You go find another corner and crack open your own book. You read for about 2 hours before you have to scurry off to your morning classes

Wood, leather, ink, and coffee

That's what you smell when you walk into the library saturday morning. You love the smell of the library. It's so earthy and cozy that you can't help but feel at home in the confines of its four walls. 

You got side tracked yesterday but today would be different. Today you were certain you would convince Mrs.Lee to let you check out books on the other side of the counter for once. You stroll in on time, no later than 7 a.m., and march your way over to her desk. 

Before you can even open your mouth to do your weekly pleading, she beats you to it.

“Yes! You can help out!” She huffs exasperatedly. “I only have so many years left to live, and each day you bother me, it's like I'm wasting my last precious moments.” 

Geez, you didn't think you got under Mrs. Lee’s skin that badly. Oh well, it paid off in the end! You were official! You were the only other staff member in the library. You felt so honored; you earned this!

“I would be more than happy, Mrs. Lee! I’ve been waiting for this for months. I won't let you down!” You beam.

Mrs. Lee gives you a warm smile and places a congratulatory hand on your shoulder. “I've been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I can't stay cooped up in this library forever. I want to start a garden at home, but I’ve never had the time.” 

“That's great! I hope all goes well!” You encourage the older women. "So, when do I start?”

“In just a few moments, actually. I'll need to show you guys around the staff room and  how I like things organized,” she sighs, getting her pen and clipboard ready.

“You guys?” You question. You are praying you heard her incorrectly. Who else could Mrs. Lee trust enough to help run the library? Hell, as far as you knew, she only ever spoke to you! 

"Yes, we have another person joining us this morning. My grandson needs some extra credit, so I agreed to sign off on it if he helped out around here.” 

"So, where is he?” You ask

“Should be here soon; I told him I'd make his coach bench him if he were late,” she grits her teeth in annoyance. 

Like clockwork, the doors to the library open, and there he is, just a few feet away from the main desk.

“Theo!?” you say in shock

“Theo? No, That's my grandson” Mrs. Lee corrects 

“Its Haechan, and your a liar,” he corrects bitterly. 

Welp…It looks like He finished the book

“i didn't lie! He fought valiantly! ” You argue,

“He died!” he quips back, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the counter. He slings his backpack on the surface and props himself up against it,leaning across to scowl in your face.

"Well, maybe if he—” you continue, but Mrs. Lee interrupts you.

“Children please! Goodness gracious, act your age and cut this out!” She exclaimed in disappointment. “We have far too many things to cover”

“Yes Mrs.lee”

“Yes grandma”

She gives him a stern look and he straightness himself immediately “Yes, mrs.lee”

Mrs. Lee showed you two around the library and the staff room before she went on a long-hour rant explaining exactly how she wanted the books to be organized and cared for. You listened intently and took notes. You would sneek peaks at Haechan from time to time, and he just stood there, nodding along to everything she said. No way was he listening! The stupid jock doesn't belong here! What sport did he even play? He was too handsome to be put out on a field! You were half way through cooking a plan to find his coach and giving them a piece of your mind for potentially ruining such a beautiful face, but then you realized you were supposed to be upset at him.

“are you even listening?” you whisper once Mrs Lee has her back turned. 

“Mind your business, Vora!” He says it with a lazy roll of his eyes. “You know, that's probably why you like her so much; she's so holier than thou. You must think your so righteous.” He slanders you.

Your forehead creases in aggravation. “Yeah, says the Theo simp! He's such a meathead; all he can think of is fighting, which is exactly why he ended up dead!” you spit back.

He opens his mouth to challenge you, but Mrs. Lee turns around before he can.

“Alright, I think that's everything, kids. Did I go to fast? Were you able to understand me? Maybe I should explain. It's one more time-”

“NO!” You both yell in unison.

“We got it, Mrs. Lee; seriously, I promise.” You smile confidently at her.

“ok then. Well, I'll head out early today and leave the rest up to you. I'll come back later to see how your doing.”

You try to stay positive. This wouldn't be so bad, right?

It's not that bad. If you call two hours of complete silence “not that bad,”

You did not expect your relationship with the cute boy who first caught your eye to turn out like this. You felt bad; Haechan did nothing wrong to you. His only crime was relating to a character that you were almost certain was written as satire. And trash-talk your favorite character. And stealing your favorite spot in the library that one time....ok maybe he had a few crimes under his belt, but they were nothing too serious.

Other than the egregious silence, things were going smoothly. You thought he wasn't paying attention, but you soon found out he was paying attention even more than you. You are honestly grateful that he was here; otherwise, you would have been stuck with a very angry Mrs. Lee lecturing you for two hours on not properly shelving the books. 

"Look, I'm sorry ok? This silence is driving me crazy. Can't we put this behind us?” You crack.

“You started it, princess.”

"Oh, that's really mature of you to point fingers,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What, then is it my fault? I just wanted to enjoy my book.” Haechan glares at you.

He had a point. You two had started off fine until you started bagging on his favorite character. 

“Hey, I'm trying to do the mature thing and apologize; work with me here,” you say while organizing the checked-in books and preparing them for Haechan to shelve later. You figured he was a little better at that than you were, so you allowed him to fully take over the duty.

He looks up from his spot at the computer. He was fulfilling a request from a student to have a book ordered over from a different campus.

Haechan hits the submit button and sighs. “If we’re going to get through this, we're going to have to at least tolerate each other,” Haechan says.

“Fake besties in front of Mrs. Lee?” You suggest and hold a hand out in a truce.

He shakes your hand in return and gives you a devilish smile. “Don’t let me catch you on campus princess”

“Wouldn't count on it.” 

Sure, technically, you two didn't completely make up, but at least you made progress. At least the tension is alleviated. Sure, you could stick your nose in a book and ignore each other for your entire shift, but Mrs. Lee would kill you if she caught you slacking off. Making small talk with Haechan was the only way to make it through the day. Not to mention you enjoy watching the way he tilts his head in annoyance, tongue in cheek, when you ask him a million questions to pass the time.

“YOU GET TO SPEND TIME WITH THE LEE HAECHAN!? GOALIE OF THE NEO HOCKEY TEAM?” your roommate raves. “AND YOUR ONLY TELLING ME THIS NOW!”

“Jeez Rina I didn't think it was that big of a deal? Plus, it's only been a week,” you say. 

You were lounging around your dorm room when you explained your recent absence to your roommate. She was hounding you for details on where you had been. She assumed you were off sleeping around, but unfortunately for her and her everlasting need for drama, you've been spending time taking care of the library. You didn't think she would get that much entertainment out of it until you made the mistake of mentioning Haechan.

“Yea right! Every girl on campus has their eye on him! He's one of the star players! All he ever has time for is practice! and now apparently, library dates.” she adds.

“They are NOT dates. We can barely stand each other.” you argue. You lay on the old spring mattress and look up at the ceiling 

You didn't know he was such a big deal. Sure, he was handsome, so you assumed he was pretty popular, but this was a different ballpark. 

“I have seriously never seen him anywhere off the ice; how are you getting him all alone? Come on, tell me your secrets,” she pries. She probably thinks there's something going on, but you swear up and down there isn't.

“His grandma is making him help out around the library. Something about him needing extra credit or something? I don't know, but you're giving me a headache.” You didn't want to think about it. 

No wonder the man had such an ego. A Star hockey player? What was he even doing in the library? You had a million more questions you wanted to ask him next time you saw him

Today Haechan was forcing you to help him shelve the books. You usually just leave him to do it, but you guys had a few carts full of returned books that needed shelving. You two were towards the back of the library, finishing up the last of the books, when he decided to press your buttons. 

You see, you and Haechan were on better terms than when you first started, but you two are still at odds on occasion. There was definitely still tension as you went at each other's throats.

“Isn’t it kind of sad to spend all your time at the library? You don’t have any friends?” He says.

“This is fun for me,” you explain simply.

“This is fun?” He asks.

“What do you consider ‘fun’?” You ask. “Don’t you play sports? What's fun about chasing a ball?” You ask.

"Its hockey,” he corrects, shelving another book. 

“Oh? And somehow you can read?”

He turns to you slowly, and you can practically feel the frustration rolling off of him.

“I know your only friends are the characters in your little books, but real people have hobbies. Find one and leave me alone.” he says

You had about thirty minutes before Mrs. Lee came back to check on you two, and you had a few things you wanted to get off your chest.

“Yeah, like your real hobby isn’t getting a puck knocked into your numb skull? Tell me Haechan, what do your teammates think of you spending time with your nose stuck in a book instead of being on the ice?” 

“Go fuck Yourself”

“Only if you watch me” You grin back at him smugly.

He licks his teeth, sends you a devilish smile in disbelief, and leans down to meet your eyes.

“You are so lucky my grandma likes you.”

“Or what?” you ask, taking a teasing step back. You knew what game you wanted to play. You weren't just some bookworm; you were a cat, and Haechan was a mouse that you were dying to play with.

He takes another step towards you, almost closing the distance between you, but stops short when he hears the sharp click of heels walking towards you two.

“Smile and play nice,” he grits out with a plastic smile before turning to face his grandma.

“Oh my, nice work, you two! It looks like everything's been put up properly,” she says as she runs her hands along the spines of a few books, checking that the author's names are in alphabetical order. “You seem to be getting along just fine too! How sweet!” 

“Couldn't be any happier to work with uh…her” Haechan feigns like he forgot your name.

You know that Dipshit didn't forget your name; he just wanted to piss you off. Play nice, my ass.

"Yes, Mrs.Lee Haechan has been doing a wonderful job. I think he really deserves that extra credit.” 

He looks suspiciously at you.

“Oh yes, I think so too dear, but I wouldn't want to leave you here all day by yourself. We can still use him for a little while longer”

The realization hit him a beat later. You figured if you told his grandma how good he's doing, she would give him the extra credit already, and then he would have no reason to stick around. 

“I do wish I could tell his coach how well he's doing on his extra credit. I’ve just been so busy these days,” Mrs.Lee says.

It had taken some time, but you had finally put it together. He was doing this so he could play in the upcoming season! He must have been benched due to not passing a class; now he was stuck here doing extra credit. That explains the extra free time he has and why he's not on the ice as much.

No pass, no play.

"Well, Mrs. Lee, I can always send a message to his coach for you?” You offer.

"Well, that would be perfect, sweetheart. Here, I have some things in my office that I want you to take to him when you get a chance. Come now,” she waves you over as she shuffles excitedly to her office.

You follow behind her closely and send a quick grin over your shoulder at Haechan's stunned shock. You were playing a dangerous game with him. No one comes between him and the ice.

Did you want to end up in an all-out war with the Neo's goalie? Absolutely not, but that's exactly how the last few days have played out. Coach Choi wouldn’t be back on campus until Friday, so you had a few days to hang Haechan's fate over his head.

“Just wait until Mr. Choi finds out you called me a bitch” You would say when he was mean to you.

“You think Mr. Choi will let you play if he finds out your trying to skip out on library duty to go party?” You told him one day when he came to you asking to cover a shift for him.

If Haechan heard you say Mr. Choi one more time, he was going to lose it. First of all, it was Coach Choi, and he was sure his coach was still going to let him play; he was one of their star players. Haechan wasn't going to just sit back and let you bully him; he had a few tricks up his sleeves too.

“Grandma, I mean Mrs.Lee I brought you some fresh fruit; you can eat it with the tea I made you,” he says sweetly to his grandmother. 

“Oh, what a sweet boy! I knew working at this library would do you some good,” she gushes over him. 

She has been raving about her adorable grandson and how wonderful he was for the entire week. You knew it was all an act. He knew the most important thing to you was being Mrs. Lee's favorite.

For every “Mr.Choi” you threw at him, he would get a “sweet boy” from Mrs. Lee in return.

It didn't end there, though. Some of the Neo's are popping in more frequently now. It had been almost every day now that your favorite spot was occupied by some stupid, hocky jock with a pretty girl sitting on his lap. You had been looking forward to spending all day in your favorite nook after Mrs. Lee told you she only needed Haechan for the day. Now, as you shuffle around the tall bookcases of the library looking for a new spot, Haechan just smiles at you from over the counter.

Taking Mrs. Lee's praise was one thing, but desecrating your favorite spot with smelly hockey gear was another.

"Who stocked the books last?" Mrs. Lee calls out after doing her end-of-shift walk-through. She still didn't fully trust you and Haechan, so she would always walk through after you were done for the day.

"I just finished stocking them a few minutes ago," Haechan replies from the computer behind the counter. Somehow, he was able to run DOOM on the outdated computer system.

"I must be too lenient with you these days; you're making mistakes. I think you need more time with the book to learn their proper place!" She scolds

"What are you talking about I—"

"You shelved a book that hasn't been checked back in! I have been looking for this book all week! It was only thanks to Y/N that I found it" She finishes, waiving around a copy of Macbeth.

"I definitely checked that in!"

"No excuses! You're working the library all week by yourself if you still want that extra credit," she finalizes. All you can do is grin over her shoulder as he sends you a death glare.

Today was Friday meaning, all the fun was soon to be over. Haechan was let off easy, he was supposed to work today. Mrs. Lee wanted the library to herself today; she said she missed the smell of the books. You hope you didn't have to run into him, you had to focus on your meeting with Mr. Choi today.

It was midday when you decided to finally make your way over to the gym. You pull your jacket on, knowing it would be cold where you were going. As much as you tease him, you weren't actually going to say anything bad about Haechan to his coach. As much as you hate to admit it, you did believe he deserved that extra credit. He had been doing a really good job in the library. 

You finally reach your destination and push open the polished white doors to the gym. It was like the building was brand new; everything looked pristine. You were jealous that this was where all the school funding was going and not to the poor library, which could definitely use a remodeling. You shake the thought from your head and you walk further into the building.

In the center of the building was a huge ice rink, and surrounding it were cushined stands that almost reached the ceiling. Massive. That's all you could think of when you took in the scenery.

You snap out of your dazed state and scan the arena. You see movement on the ice and notice a blur of messy hair and tan skin effortlessly making its way across the ice. 

Haechan was running drills up and down the ice, maneuvering his puck in and out of obstacles cleanly. 

You make your way closer to him, and he's so focused that he doesn't notice you yet. Now that your up close, you can see the sweat as it glistens on his skin and drips down his neck. Man's was putting in work on that ice, and you immediately felt bad for trashing it before. This was Haechan's craft, and you could see just how much he cared for it. 

“I thought you were the goalie?” 

He skits to a stop and turns to your voice, confused. Once he realizes it's you, he squints his eyes suspiciously at you.

“Here to snitch to coach?”

“Humor me, and you’ll find out,” you smile.

He skates over to you and collides heavily with the barrier dividing you, making you jump. “I am the goalie; you know I'm the goalie.” He answers

“I thought you could only stay in the net, though?” You ask curiously 

"Technically, I can play outside of my net; I just can't cross the center line. "It would be stupid of me to play to far from the goal. These exercises are just for practice.”

"Where is everyone else?”

“Teams pissed I'm benched, so they won't play the ice with me until I'm officially back in the game,” he shrugs, but they can help him torment you throughout the week? Some team he's got.

"I don't understand men," you say, rolling your eyes.

“Its called tough love babe, you get it,” he teases. You fake punch him through the plexiglass, and he flinches jokingly. 

“You wish,” you mumble.

A comfortable silence settles as you just stare at each other with hesitant smiles gracing your lips, replacing the usual scowls.

“Why not help me out?”He asks

“With what?”

“Practice with me.”

“You want me?  on ice? I don't think so,” you laugh.

"Oh come on, Ice Princess afraid of a little cold? What happened to all that bite you had before? Afraid you'll lose some of the few brain cells you have?”

Oh he was so on.

He takes you into the storage room and helps you fit some spare skates onto your feet. He shoves a hockey stick into your arms and helps you back onto the ice. 

Oh it was so over

You felt ridiculous. You had no idea how to hold the hockey stick and you could barely stand on the ice. You figured Haechan must be getting a kick out of watching you struggle, but once you look up from watching your every step, you find nothing but worry in his eyes.

“Be careful not to fall; it's easy to bruise on the ice,” he warns gently as he skates circles around you, literally and hypothetically.

“I don't need your help; I can figure it out on my own,” you grumble And take a brave step forward. 

You knew the basics of ice skating, but that was just it; you knew it. Actually, putting it into action was a lot harder than you thought. You knew you were supposed to bend your knees, make a V shape with your feet, and lean forward slightly. That was the easy part, but actually moving? Not computing. 

You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and you throw a glare over your shoulder. 

“Let me help you,” Haechan laughs lightheartedly “can't help me practice if you can't skate dummy.” 

"This was your idea" You remind him

He glides over to you and hovers his hand on the middle of your back. Not fully touching you, but close enough, you know that he's there if you fall. You feel a bit more confident with him there, and you take your first step. You stumble immediately, but he's right there to catch you. He helps you right yourself and moves to skate in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them steadily.

“The issue is that your taking steps; don't try to walk on the ice; push off and glide,” he explains. 

You follow his lead as he skates backwards. You stumble a few more times but your starting to find the rhythm to it. You can't help but smile excitedly at him. When you try to jump with joy, you immediately slip and fall. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact of the cold, wet ice, but instead collide with a firm chest. You had fallen forward into Haechan's arms, and when you lifted your head up, you found yourself a breath away from his face. You can literally see your breath mingling in the cold air of the rink.

Time is frozen, and neither of you moves as you watch each other, waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips, and you can feel his grasp on your waist tighten at the sight.  

“Can I ki-”

SLAM. The sound of a door echoes through the building as footsteps follow. You and Haechan part immediately, and you turned towards the source of the noise.

It was Mr. Choi, the exact reason you were here in the first place. It looked like he was leaving for the day. You really needed to talk to him and give him the things Mrs. Lee wanted you to.

“Oh! Mr. Choi, excuse me!” You call out to him and shuffle as best you can across the ice. Before you can even stumble, you feel an arm encircle your waist as they guide you across the ice, smoothly pulling you along. 

 You finally make it off the ice and waddle towards him. awkwardly hanging on to the  gaurd rail with the skates still on your feet. 

“Mr.choi Just. A moment.”

He finally turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow

“Mrs. Lee sent me; she wanted to go over Haechan’s progress with the extra credit but she's been too busy to come here herself,” you explain, a little out of breath.

The coach takes one look at your exhausted form and then at haechan before letting out a sigh.

“Follow me to my office,” he says, walking back the way he came.

You make your way to the nearest bench and down. You rid yourself of the deadly contraption on your feet. You grab your things and send Haechan a final smile. His eyes are glued to you as he circles the ice watching as you following Mr. Choi. You enter through the door you saw him walk through; it seems like the office is located in the locker room. You find the coach seated in his office, near the back of the locker room. As much as Haechan bothered you, he deserved his praise. You relay your report and don’t forget to give him the things Mrs. Lee had for him. 

“I'm happy to hear he's not causing any trouble for you”

“Of course not”

"please save me TT," you cry from inside.

"Well, keep me updated if anything changes; I know he can be a handful sometimes”

You smile at the comment and nod “I'll see you around, Mr.Choi.”

“Just call me Coach.” He corrects.

“Right,” you smile.

You stroll out and look over at the ice to find Haechan running his exercises again. He looks at you expectantly as he skates the ice skillfully.

“You'll find out soon,” you say, answering his silent question.

You heard the door open and close again, and Coach Choi appeared to have followed closely behind. Haechan gets called over, and you take this as your cue to leave the two alone. Hopefully he remembers your kindness and you can finally call a truce on this petty war.

Over next few days, things have been going great between you two. You were actually starting to enjoy Haechan's company. After giving good feedback to his coach, he decided you weren’t too bad. The time spent in the library together is filled with small laughs and light jokes at first, but as you two finally break from your apprehensive shell, you find yourselves completely opening up and letting your guard down.

Outside of the library, he's been teaching you how to skate, and you have been seeing more and more progress. You two even started buddy reading. This is how it should have been from the beginning. You didn't realize how much you wanted to get close to him until you finally did. 

You were currently on the rink with Haechan as you skated alongside him. You would follow behind him as he practiced and you would read aloud for him. Recently, he hadn't had time to read. His coach was pushing him to practice more as the season approached, so you read for him to ensure he didn't fall behind

You finish off a chapter and close the book. “how are we feeling about this chapter” 

“Too short; I feel like not much happened in this chapter,” he comments.

“I could read another if you like?” 

“Nah, I'm almost done,” he says as he comes to a stop to catch his breath. “lets wrap up”

You nod and make your way off the ice.

You busy yourself with untying your skates and haechan sits down next to you to untie his.

“when I'm back on the ice, are you gonna come watch me play?” he asks

Your wanted to answer right away but you find your mind wandering back to your conversation with your roommate all those weeks ago. Haechan was the hotshot player, who knew what kind of rumors would spread if you came to the game to support him

“I'm not really a hockey fan,” you say. It was true; you don't really follow sports.

“you wouldn't be my fan?” he teases

“especially not yours,” you joke back

“Seriously, it would mean a lot to me”

“when did you start caring about being seen with me?”

“since you stopped being annoying,”

Point taken.

“I'll think about it,” you say before you stand. Your make your way out and call over your shoulder, “don't fall behind on your chapters; I won't be able to read to you once they take you off the bench”

Mrs. Lee had finally concluded his extra credit, and once it was reported to his professor, his grade was updated, and he was good to play again. Of course, Mrs. Lee extended him the opportunity to continue working at the library, and when Haechan says he'll make time to stop by and see you, you believe him.

That was a mistake

It was stupid of you to think Haechan actually cared about spending time with you in the library. Once he was cleared to play, he put all his time back on the ice. 

If you crossed paths on campus, he would smile and wave, but there was nothing much outside of that. So what was all this for? Were you just there to help him kill time until he was back with his beloved team? You admit you started off really rocky, so you wouldn't put it past him, but lately you felt as though you really grew as friends. 

You knew how much the sport meant to him, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that followed. You were only human after all, and humans made stupid decisions.

It was finally the night of the first game of the season, and you sat in the stands as you watched the game unfold. Maybe Haechan was right to be cocky; he was really good at defending. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. The away team was down 15 points, and the game was coming to an end. If the team was good enough, they might have been able to turn the tables in the last quarter, but that doesn't happen as Haechan blocks almost every shot they attempt. He was quick and used his entire body to block his opponents shots. You had never seen him so focused before.

The buzzer sounds, and the crowd cheers. You come down the stands to give your congratulations. Haechan spots you as you approach and gives you a smile, opening his arms for a hug.

You weren't here for him.

You walk right past him and hug his teammate, Jeno. You had been getting closer with Jeno over the last few weeks. You had checked out a book for him one day and even helped him study it for his history class. You two have been talking ever since. Haechan's smile fell immediately. You wish you could have captured the look on his face. 

“Are you coming over to celebrate?” Jeno asks

“Of course I'll wait for you, ok?” You say and hug him tighter.

Haechan remains motionless, his face full of confusion and anger.

Jeno leaves you and heads back into the locker room.

Most of the team had started to head back already, and someone clapped a hand over Haechan's shoulder, dragging him back to the locker room and rambling in his ear about the amazing plays from that night's game. Haechan can't seem to pay attention, focusing solely on you and the sly smile that graces your lips.

You were honestly impressed by how quickly Haechan changed clothes. He was only in the locker room for about 5 minutes, and when he storms over to you, you can tell he skipped the shower.

“Jeno? Really? You're better than that,” he says, tongue in cheek. 

“Don't start; he's actually really sweet. What do you even care? You won the game, right? That's all you care about.” 

“I see what this is,” he says with a smile “your upset that I didn't make time for you and our little book dates, is that it?” 

“They were not dates,” you correct him 

“Could have fooled me. I see the way you watch me instead of the pages,” he counters

“Oh my god, you're so full of yourself." You say but don't deny his claims. "I thought we were past this.”

“You’re one to talk; your literally using Jeno to get back at me!”

“How can I get back at you if you don't like me? Why do you care so much?” You argue. “Admit it, you have a thing for me” 

He takes a step closer, invading on your personal space, and you can tell by the expression in his eye that he was about to say something devious, but Jeno interrupts you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"Nu-uh, she's mine tonight; back off,” Jeno jokes, whisking you away from the tension you and Haechan created. As you walk away with Jeno, you have a chance to look over your shoulder and catch Haechan's eyes. He gives you a look, but you're unsure what it reads as? You’re too far away to see, but it looks like hurt?

Jeno drives you back to his place; apparently,  the party was at the grand house that most of the team stays in. Most of the team stays together while others live on their own, but all the celebratory parties happen at the big house. You wonder if Haechan stayed here too? You shake the thought from your head. You would not think about him tonight; you had a point to prove.

Once you make it to the house, you notice most of the team is still setting up and getting ready. A few people were early, and they were mostly chatting out back on the deck. You follow Jeno up to his room and he changes into something more comfortable than the practice clothes he had thrown on after the game. You give your opinions on a few of the shirts he tries on and you find that its really easy to talk to him. He was super laid back and you could see yourself becoming really good friends with him.

“You and Haechan, huh?” He asks as he picks over a few chains to match his outfit.

“No, its not like that,” you say, rolling your eyes “Try that gold one on,” You point to the heavy chain sitting on his dresser. 

“The whole team knows something is up. You even practice with him sometimes.” Jeno says as he clips the chain behind his neck and adjusts it in a mirror. 

Your lying on his bed as you absent-mindedly scroll through your phone. "Hmm, not that one. I think silver would match better actually.” You avoid being put on the spot.

“Make up your mind,” Jeno groans, taking the chain off “I know your only here with me to make him jealous, so if you want my help, you could at least be honest.”

You look over his outfit again and give him a flirty smile “Who says I'm not? You look good. Maybe I want to try you?” 

He smirks and crawls over to you on the bed. He pins you down under him and kisses your neck. “You’re not fooling anyone, but who says we can't have a little fun” He teases and caresses your sides. You think he's going to take it farther, but he parts from you and goes back to his closet to find his shoes.

“Just kidding doll, he's my teammate. Even though you can’t see it, I do. He likes you,” he concludes.

You watch him put on his shoes and sigh. Haechan was ruining your chances of getting good dick now too? “You still gonna help me get back at him, right?” you ask.

“Oh definitely, he deserves a little tormenting,” Jeno says as he finishes putting together his outfit “He ate my leftover Kimchi Jjigae, so he's got it coming.”

You laugh and haul yourself from his sheets, joining his side as you both walk down to the party.

When you both enter the stairway, the music hits you, and you can practically feel the bass of the music shake your bones. Any more small talk was clearly out of the question, and you were grateful. You were not in the mood for any of Jeno's twenty-one questions regarding your feelings for Haechan. You doubted you would hear him even if he spoke right into your ear. He leads you to the main floor, and the house is packed. While he waves and greets a few of his friends, you rake your eyes across the crowd to see if you can find Haechan. There has been no sight of him so far. 

You make your way to the kitchen and find the drinks. You still hated the way hard  liquor burns as it goes down and settles for a mixed drink. You stick close to Jeno, hoping Haechan would find you hanging off his teammates shoulders, but you still haven't seen him.

It wasn't until about an hour into the party that you saw him. Honestly, after your second drink, you had already forgotten you were even looking for him as you began to have genuine fun with Jeno. He held you close as you danced on the floor. Although you were both past tipsy, you were not quite drunk. Jeno's chest was against your back as you rocked back and forth to the beat, his head nestled in your neck. 

Haechan had just come down the stairs; you figured he must have been hiding away in his room until this point. He locks eyes with you as your figure becomes entwined with Jeno's. Jeno peppers a few kisses against your skin, and you can practically see Haechan's breath catch in his throat as his face heats up in anger.

You smile in victory and you think he's seconds away from dragging you off the floor but he surprises you. He pushes through the crowd, but he doesn't come toward you at all. He angrily makes his way through the front door, slamming it behind him. 

You pull away from Jeno’s embrace, suddenly ashamed. "I don't think this is working” 

Jeno can't hear anything your saying, so he just screams, “HUH? WHAT?” loudly in your face. 

“I”M LEAVING,” you try to communicate through gestures.

“SHOULD I GO WITH YOU?” he asks, finally able to understand you

“NO IM FINE,” you make an x motion with your arms to tell him no and you point behind you, “GOTTA GO, BYE”  

You leave him in the crowd, and you figure he'll be okay because, when you turn around to spare him one last look, some other girl was quick to take your spot. 

You rush through the bodies of people and make it outside. There were a few people leaning against cars or huddled in groups chatting with friends, but they paid you no mind as you walked down the sidewalk, following a familiar figure that was a few meters ahead of you. 

He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stormed ahead. No matter how much you pleaded for him to slow down, he kept walking. You had no idea where he was going until you spotted an old, run-down building. He was going to the library.

Once he got to the doors, he used his spare key to unlock it and rush inside. You follow after, finally being able to catch up

“Hey! Haechan, wait” You grab his arm, and he finally turns towards you.

“What! Isn't this what you wanted? To piss me off?” He asks in exasperation, his chest heaving in anger.

“Can we just be honest then! Why are you upset?” You challenge. 

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!” He yells in frustration, “I've liked you since the day you gave me your headband. I could have done anything else for extra credit You know why I chose the library? Because I knew you would be here!”

“You completely ditched me after!”

“I was busy!”

“Your insufferable is what you are!’

“You think you know it all, don't you!” 

"Well, I do!” You yell, “I know if you liked me, you should have acted like it!”

“Oh yea!?”

“Yea!”

With his lips pressed hungrily against yours, you found it impossible to think at all. Not with the way he pulled you closer to taste more of you. You could hardly keep up. One minute you’re at each other's throats, and the next his tongue is down yours.

He pushes you back against a bookshelf, knocking a few copies from their spot, and you pay them no mind as they clatter to the floor. You would have a lot to clean up afterwards.

“So annoying,” he mutters against your lips as he deepens the kiss.

You still can't keep up. All you can think about is the way his hands feel as they travel across the skin of your stomach. They were cool from the midnight air and you shivered under his touch. He backs away to let you catch his breath.

“Tell me you want it,” he says, a hair's breadth away from your neck. He gave you your moment to back out, to go back to whatever you guys were before, but you didn't take it.

“I need you, please,” you mutter as you bring your hands back up to his hair and pull him down for another kiss. 

You couldn't take another interruption; you needed all of him, and if you had to wait another second, you'd explode. He tried to pull away again for air, but you chased his lips, biting them in retaliation, and he whined.

“Not so tough now, are you” you joke, a bit out of breath.

He narrows his eyes and rests his hand against your neck “You need to be quiet; we’re in a library.” He tightens the hold on your neck and any rebuttal you had dies in your throat “another word and I'll leave you to finish by yourself and I don't think Edgar Allen Poe could turn you on more than I can” 

You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to rasp out a response, but he has you facing the bookshelf, manhandling you before you can speak.

“Do not test me,” he says.

He has you pinned up against the shelves and undresses you. You want to complain about the amount of clothing he was wearing, but remind yourself of his earlier threat.

The library is dark and quiet; no one would be able to see your bodies dance in the dark. Your senses are heightened and they are all zeroed in on haechan. The warmth of his hands as they explore your body and tease you and the soft sounds that escape his mouth as he grinds his hips against your ass. 

For a second, you don't feel him pressing up against you anymore, and your protests die on your tongue as you feel him lick into your heat from behind. He’s grabbing at your cheeks, massaging them as he spreads them to make room for his face. He's so messy, and you can't help but blush at the amount of noise he's making. Your legs begin to shake as he sucks heavily on your clit. He pulls back and spits on your cunt, adding to the slickness, before inserting his fingers. As many days as you had worked with him, you didn't think it would ever end with him pushing you up against the bookcases and eating you out from the back. Just a few moments ago, he couldn't stand you; now he was on his knees, like he could worship your pussy for a lifetime. You would not be able to look at this library the same way again.

You could feel yourself getting closer, but you'd cry if you had to come around his fingers pathetically rather than wrap around his thick cock. You thread your fingers through his hair and grab hold. You almost don’t have the heart to pull him away, but you eventually find the strength. You pull him up from his knees and into another kiss, and you can instantly taste yourself coated on his tongue. 

“Fuck me already.” you say against his lips.

He groans and gets to work on taking off his pants. He doesn't part from you for even a second, and the death grip he has on your hips tells you he can barely keep it together. He slips inside and you both whimper at the feeling. He fucks you as intimately as someone can press up against a bookshelf in the middle of a library. All you can do is just grip the shelf. You could hardly keep yourself up after coming so close to the edge. 

He finally breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. The lightheaded feeling makes you tighten around him. He's peppering kisses around your neck and down your back. 

“So good, babe;  you feel so good,” he mumbles. “We could have been doing this from the start but you just wanted to be a brat” He nips at your skin and lands a slap against your bare ass. 

“But all you needed was some dick. Now your so good for me, right baby,” he slows his thrusts down teasingly and presses another kiss to your temple.

His strokes are so deep and calculated you almost start crying. He doesn't like your lack of response so he snakes a hand in front of you and grabs onto your neck. “Answer me baby,” he threatens as he tightens his grip on your throat. His hips pick up at a brutal speed, and he's fucking you so hard that the bookshelf is shaking, causing more books to topple off.

“Yes! All yours! I'm your good girl” you really do cry this time. 

Haechan groans at the sight of the fresh tears that fall down your cheeks. He kisses them away, and he pulls your hips back to meet his thrust, driving deeper into your greedy hole. Your head is up in the clouds, and all you can make out is him whining “so good” and “just like that” into the crook of your neck. 

You cum hard and gush out all over his length. He thrusts into you a few more times before he finally releases deep inside. Your legs are shaking and you have no idea how your going to make it home. 

He pulls out of you and watches as his cum drips out of you. He did not feel like scrubbing his cum from the library floor, so he did the next best thing. He found his way down to his knees again and cleaned you up. You weakly push at his head, and you slump against the bookshelf. 

Haechan has to pull himself away before things get out of hand again. He helps you put your clothes back on and sits you on a nearby bench as he cleans up the mess you two made. He picks up the books and puts them back on their respective shelf.

“Mrs. Lee would kill us if she found out”

“Do not bring up my grandma right now” Haechan shudders at the thought in disgust.

Silence falls over you two as he continues to work. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier” you say, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, like he wasn't fucking the life out of you two minutes ago.

“Yes, I’m sorry for not being upfront with you. It was just so hard; it seemed like we  were always fighting,” he says as he shelves a copy of Huckleberry Finn.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted before,” you sigh “Can we start over...again...for real this time” you laugh.

Haechan finishes rearranging the books and sits next to you on the bench.

“Of course,” and he kisses you. 

This kiss was different from earlier; this one meant something and wasn't lust-filled like the other. This kiss was filled with secret promises and new adventures. When he pulled away and looked him in the eye, you knew things were going to be different.

[queenimmadolla]

its maiiisssie 💖💖

so the first time penny’s hair is long enough to put in bunches eddie melts on the spot, wants to cry, his baby is too fucking cute, he wants another one

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ♡

𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒅!𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆

“Hold still, baby.” Eddie quipped around the little scrunchy clenched between his teeth. The baby between his lap did not easily comply, she had no idea what he was saying as she let out squeals. In her hand was a set of toy keys that had gained her favor in the last few weeks, and there was nothing Penny enjoyed more than bashing them into whatever surface she was sat on–in this case, the couch–except, maybe sticking the brightly colored plastic keys in her mouth.

  Eddie much preferred that over trying to pry his keys out of her strong armed, six month-old grip. She cried something fierce every time he was successful (so always) which led to Eddie getting her her own pair. So long as she didn’t see his, or yours, they worked like a charm.

  Eddie’s thighs got a little firmer around her to keep her from wiggling as he used the brush to gently guide her short curls, wet from a spray bottle, into place. It was a feat, Penny’s curls were all the same length now that she had actual curls instead of the wavy hair all newborns seemed to come with, meaning there weren't many ways it could be styled other than slicking it down. And it wasn’t yet thick enough to hold the weight of a bow so you'd taken to putting ones that came with a headband on her instead.

  After a late start to the morning, you’d gotten started on the laundry while Eddie got Penny ready for the day and after putting her in a cute little outfit you'd picked out for her (it was the most adorable little dress that didn’t hide her leg rolls and those socks with frilly lace, even though she pulled off any socks you put on her–Eddie couldn’t stop cooing to her about how cute she was for a good ten minutes, and he was still making comments). Now, having missed your presence, he’d moved the next step in her routine to the livingroom to be closer to you. 

  While you were sitting on the floor, folding laundry onto the coffee table, Eddie was doing her hair, a sight your gaze constantly flickered back to. He was your husband and your baby daddy, yet somehow you were still vulnerable to the sight of him with a baby. A kryptonite.

  Eddie’s attention was focused on the task at hand, brows pinched as he concentrated. He’d been trying this for a while now, and he always fell short.

  Today was looking to be the day he and Penny didn’t. As he brushed her hair from the bottom to the top, it all just slowly fell, not yet long enough to reach. But the top stayed, in fact, he was able to gather a good amount of it there and he pinched it in place between his thumb and forefinger. He dropped the brush onto the cushion next to him and reached up to grab the small scrunchy from his mouth before he carefully looped it around the hair he’d sectioned off, twisted it, and looped one final time. 

  Then Eddie sat back against the couch to marvel at the tiniest ponytail he’d ever seen, sticking straight up like those little troll dolls with the ends curling.

  Penny seemed to choose that moment to become self aware and she craned her little body around in search of her dad, probably wondering why he’d stopped fiddling with her hair.

  When she finally found him–still exactly in place–her entire face lit up, drooly mouth parting to show off her gums in a wide smile as her eyes squinted.

  Eddie lost it.

  “YOU ARE THE MOST ADORABLE THING THIS PESSIMISTIC SCHMUCK HAS EVER SEEN!” He bellowed, scooping her up. Eddie launched an aggressive raspberry attack to where she was currently most ticklish, her neck. He alternated between them and pressing kisses to her chunky cheek while she squealed with laughter as she tried,  and failed, to raise her little shoulders in an effort to stop his tickles–though it was obvious to Eddie with the way she’d lower her shoulders immediately after he stopped that she wanted the tickling to continue. 

  Eddie’s booming declaration had surprised you, nearly causing you to toss up the pair of sweats you’d been folding but you managed to quickly regain your composure and your baby’s mystical laughter soon had you joining in on it too. The sight alone had you grinning from ear to ear, heart doing somersaults in your chest as Eddie cradled Penny to him, letting up to fool her into thinking he was done before he planted more raspberries on her while she giggled like a hyena.

  When he caught you staring, he sat her back up on his lap facing your direction, “Look, honey! Look!”

  You let out an amused scoff, hand reaching up to cover your mouth.

  Penny was now beaming at you, pretty brown eyes almost hidden because she was doing her hard smile which had her cheeks pressing up into her eyes. She looked so precious in her little dress but it was the teeny tiny ponytail sprouting on her head that caught your attention.

  Had it been on anyone other than a baby, it would have been a very pathetic attempt at one but considering how limited you were when styling your baby’s hair…a win is a win.

  “Oh my goodness, you are such a pretty little thing!” you cooed, setting aside the laundry to push yourself up.

  Eddie held her out to you and the moment she was in your arms, you were smothering her cheek with kisses, freehand on the other side of her face to keep her in place.

  You pulled back to admire the little bunch of hair and then went right back to kissing and cuddling her. It was cuteness overload, she was in your arms, curled up to you and you still couldn’t get enough of her. It was like you wanted to absorb her back into your body but that would make you sad because then you wouldn’t have her in your arms. 

  You pulled away after one last (it wouldn’t be the last) smacking kiss to her cheek before addressing her as you handed her back to Eddie, “Ma’am, did you know it’s actually a federal offense to be this cute?”

  Of course, she didn’t respond with words, eyes sparkling up at you as she babbled and grunted. You loved that she was trying to talk to you. It was obvious to both you and Eddie that she’d be talkative once she got the hang of words.

  Eddie twirled the wee ponytail around his finger just as you spotted the mirror hanging on the hallway wall and like a moth to flame, you were over to it and back with it, poised in front of Eddie and Penny. Her smile somehow managed to expand as she caught sight of their reflections.

  Eddie chuckled, as she gripped his shirt over his shoulder, “Is that you? Is that you, pretty girl? Is that daddy’s baby?”

  Penny’s eyes would dart between his and her reflection but Eddie’s warm gaze stayed focused on hers. He smirked as he observed her get shy, giving their reflections one hard, gummy smile before she was wiggling like a live wire in his arms and hiding her face in his neck. 

  You both started cooing and she pried herself away from her hiding space to smile again at the both of you before she ‘hid’ herself.

  After hanging the mirror back up, you plopped onto the couch and Eddie freed an arm for you to settle under, head resting on his chest as you offered Penny her keys and her pacifier.

  She took them both eagerly, babbling before shoving the pacifier in her mouth. Then Penny shook the keys by the ring, yanked the pacifier out and shoved the plastic ring in her mouth, instead.

  You both watched her with reverence, bliss wrapping around the moment and promising to be a memory you’d look back on.

  “It’s growing a little.” Edde stated and you craned your head up to look at him from beneath your lashes. His face and demeanor were suddenly so melancholic.

  You had no idea her lack of hair length had such an affect on him, “It’ll grow more, it just takes a while for hers to show since it’s curled. Aren’t you glad we didn’t listen to my mom–what did she say again? Shaving Penny’s head would make it grow faster?”

  “No, baby, I mean her hair is growing.” You blinked up at him without bothering to hide your confusion so he continued. “She’s growing. Pretty soon, I won’t have a baby anymore and those toy keys are gonna be real keys to a car she’s gonna pack up and then she’ll be leaving us in the dust.”

  You’d been pretty good at dodging postpartum depression, looks like Eddie hadn’t.

  “Oh, Eds, don’t make yourself sad, baby. Yes, she’s growing and it’s bittersweet, I’m sure it’ll never feel like we have enough time, but watching her grow is a pivotal part of our lives. Besides, she has to learn how to walk before she can leave us.”

  Eddie’s head rested on yours with a hearty sigh, “Feels like just last week we brought her home, this little bundle of everything good. Tiny fingers, always sleeping and eating, spitting up like half of your milk every time we burped her and when her poop didn’t stink because all she consumed was milk. I miss all that.”

  You were both silent as you stared at your baby, taking in the present while also reminiscing the past. You missed when she was that small, too. Her baby sounds, soft breathes, high pitched grunting, the baby scrunch she’d do whenever you picked her up, how she’d almost instantly relax against your breast the moment you started feeding her, eyes slipping shut as she nursed and her baby smell. Holding her on your chest as you rocked her to sleep, nose settled into her soft hair so her scent could fill you had been one of your favorite things to do. 

  “Have you seen the way she rocks herself when she pushes off of her tummy? She’s getting ready to crawl.” You mused and you felt Eddie sag under you. When you looked up, his head was lulled to the side, eyes closed with his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. One eye pried open to make sure you were watching him.

  “You see me? You see what you did?” Eddie went back to playing dead, “You just killed me.”

  You rolled your eyes, fond of the big goofball you’d married as you returned your stare back to your baby girl, your head nuzzling against his chest while Eddie continued.

  “Why would you tell me that, doll? You just heard me complaining about my baby growing up and you’re just gonna shoot me while I’m down? Why do you want to hurt me so badly? Huh?”

  “I’m just saying you can’t stop her from growing up.” You laughed, swatting his hand away from where it poked at your side, “It’s all happening, baby.”

  Eddie let out another sigh, this one defeated but there was a glint in his eyes that immediately made you suspicious. 

  “You’re right, you’re right. Newborn days are over. Until I put another one in you.”

dividers © @firefly-graphics.

[mrkis]

⛧ this is apart of my ‘MARK BDAY REQUEST SPECIAL’ event that i will be doing for his bday (wednesday-sunday). requests are OPEN for this.

REQUEST: ⇢ showing up to ex fwb!mark’s bday party and forgetting a present so he asks you to stay back when everyone else leaves 🫣🫣

⛧ WARNINGS: 18+ content. ex fwb!mark, make outs, fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex,

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

( “You’re here?” Mark’s brows raise in surprise at your arrival, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing one arm around your shoulder to coax you into a hug that you immediately return, your hands rubbing his back and feeling the warmth beneath your palms. “I didn’t, like, expect you to be here”

“I’m not going to miss your birthday” You tell him with a light laugh, pulling back from the embrace to look at him with a sheepish smile. “Although, I forgot to buy a birthday present on my way here… I’m sorry”

“No, it’s cool, don’t worry about it” Mark dismisses it with a wave of his hand before he scratches the back of his neck. “The party is about to end soon though… Do you, like, mind if you stay behind when everyone leaves or something?”

“Sure” You nod, “I’ll go wait in your room” )

You’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes for Mark to bid everyone goodbye and thank them for coming to his birthday party, hearing his laughter from the living room as you mindlessly walk around his bedroom, capturing small details of the space that hasn’t been changed since you last were in here.

His walls are still white, decorated with a few random posters of his favourite artists. His vinyl collection is still stacked in the corner of the room, untouched and in pristine condition. His favourite guitar was tucked away in a case that leaned against his wardrobe, stickers of Spider-Man and the Canadian flags plastered across the black case. 

His bed sheets are still blue—so are the covers—and it’s freshly made, familiar with how he doesn’t allow himself to begin his day without making his bed the second he gets out of it. He still has the miniature Spider-Man plush that you bought him for his last birthday (and you’d be lying if you said you still didn’t have your Spider-Gwen plush underneath the covers of your own bed which, funnily enough, he bought you for your birthday). 

He also still has a few photo frames sitting on his desk next to his computer and your fingers ghost of the ones of him and his friends, his family and others that hold a lot of memory due to their locations. But you pause when the tips of your fingers touch a photo that you were sure Mark wouldn’t have kept and your heart swells in your chest.

It’s of you and him at a carnival, silly headbands on your head with goofy smiles on your faces, Mark standing behind you with his arms loosely wrapping around your shoulders and cheek pressed against yours with your one hand resting on his arm while the other shows a peace sign. 

You gut swirls with regret as you take a step back, suddenly feeling guilty for showing up at his birthday after you were the one that decided to call it quits on your odd situation. 

You and Mark were friends with benefits, the situation lasting a lot longer than you both originally had planned. You were hooking up to satisfy your needs, fucking each other when you were frustrated or in need of a release or were just bored. It was only supposed to be for a month, but a month lead into two months which lead into five, and the five lead to a year which eventually ended up being almost two and a half years. 

The predicament wasn’t good for both of you. Feelings were spiralling and even close friends were pointing out how strangely long it had been happening for and it made you feel terrible when a girl had walked up to you in a bar and told you that she liked Mark and wanted to ask him out but couldn’t due to you both being so close, and her being unsure of what you both really were. 

You explained it to Mark that night—saying that maybe you had both dragged this out longer than you should’ve and were stopping each other from meeting other people. Mark was hesitant, but he agreed, leaving you both to shake on it as you ended your friends with benefits situation.

It’s been two months since that happened and truthfully, you both struggled to keep in contact with each other without things seeming awkward and being reminded that you’ve seen each other naked every time you shared eye contact. It left a dent in your friendship, but you were desperate to still keep him as a close friend as he previously was, which is why you showed up tonight. 

“Sorry for making you wait for so long” You hear Mark apologise behind you and you jump at the sudden voice, peering over your shoulder to see Mark closing his bedroom door behind himself with a sheepish smile on his face. “Haechan and Chenle didn’t want to leave”

“Should’ve let them stay” You tell him with a kind smile, “Then you wouldn’t be alone for the night on your birthday”

“Well, I, uh, you know, I was hoping you would stay with me tonight” Mark admits with an awkward laugh, patting down the back of his hair, a little nervous habit you picked up during your time together. “Since we, like, haven’t been able to spend time together”

“I get it” You say in understanding, wanting nothing more than to spend time with him too and catch up on all the things you’ve missed. Even being in his presence is making you feel happy and content. “I’m still sorry about not getting you a birthday present, by the way”

“You can still give me one…” Mark speaks softly as he takes a step forward and your eyes widen slightly, immediately recognising what he’s hinting at as you feel his hands come up to touch your cheeks, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “You can give me you, you know”

“Mark,” You warn him, curling your fingers around his wrists but not pulling his hands away. 

“You don’t miss it?” Mark questions you and you get surprised, watching as his teeth bites down on his bottom lip when he stands closer to you. “I miss it, a lot—more than I’d like to admit, actually” 

“I do,” You admit quietly. “But that doesn’t mean we should”

“We enjoyed ourselves” He states, giving your lips a quick kiss that has you almost yanking him down for another. “That’s all that matters, right? We were happy. Who cares what others think? I’d never want them like I want you… Don’t you want me too?”

“You talk too much” You sigh, fisting the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss, deeper and more hungry than the first and Mark reciprocates almost immediately, not giving either of you a chance to breathe as he’s licking inside your mouth and kissing your lips raw.

Nimble fingers are tugging down the zipper of your jeans and you gasp when you feel his hand slip inside your pants, pressing his fingers to your folds and rubbing your clit in circular motions that has you whining, baffled by the fact he still knows your body so well.

He’s laying you down on his bed, hovering over you and resting one hand by the side of your head as the other plays with your pussy, the kiss hot and heavy as his fingers slip inside your pussy, curling them and grazing the spot that has your thighs clenching around his hand.

Mark’s drinking up your moans, panting in your mouth as he rubs his confined cock on your thigh while bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm, smiling against your lips as you’re embarrassingly quick to cum over his fingers, the wet sounds echoing throughout the quietness of his room and you wail as his thumb rubs your clit to ride out the pleasure. 

“That’s it” He sighs over your mouth. “That’s my girl… good”

Neither of you give yourself time to calm down as he’s already leaning back to get pull his pants and boxers down to his thighs, not wanting to waste any time in taking off his clothes fully and you do the same, lifting your hips to pull down your own jeans and underwear, cursing under your breath as they get stuck on your shoes and Mark laughs, helping you yank off your shoes to leave your bottom half bare for him. 

Mark resumes his position above you, guiding himself to your slick pussy and stroking the tip between your folds, gathering your arousal for an easy slip in and you wrap your thighs around his waist as he does so, the feeling of being full with his cock leaves you a moaning miss already, gripping at his shoulders as he thrusts, grunting with each deep stroke. 

“Mark” You moan his name loudly and he smiles, slotting his lips with yours as his cock pounds relentlessly into your pussy, skin slapping against skin. He’s not letting up, his pace even quickens when he feels your fingers dig into his shoulders and tastes the salty tears that slip down your cheeks from the pleasure and sensitivity of not being fucked in so long. 

“You’re so pretty, baby” He compliments you when he pulls back from your lips, admiring you beneath him and you grow flustered. His eyes dart above your head, staring at the Spider-Man plush that rests against his pillows before he looks back down at you, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re definitely my favourite birthday present”

©mrkis

[shina913]

The Thrill | KNJ

The Thrill (An Intersect drabble)

✫✫✫Intersect Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: KNJ x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Established relationship; fluff; smut

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff; grand romantic gestures; cussing; clit play; breast play; dirty talk; unprotected penetrative sex in a committed and monogamous relationship; soft aftercare

Word count: 2,993 words

Summary: “Nooo...stop it.”

A/N: I guess this is the result of the amalgamation of all the boyfriend/thirsty content that Namjoon has been dropping lately. I really have no excuse when it comes to him. I say this as my BFE!Yoongi WIP pouts in the corner, mid-smut scene--you’re next, I promise!!! 🤪  Thank you, Sim @itdoesntmatterwhy​​ for reading this through and giving me some good notes!

A/N2: The Thrill is one of my favorite Miguel songs. It’s so much better live than the original recording.“We can be the riot in the air tonight/Start the kind of trouble you can taste.”  I debated cutting it off right before the smut but then...Joon’s Smoke Sprite verse happened so...you can blame that for the second half of this!

A/N3: You don’t need to read the series to get into this. I included some callbacks but they’re not necessarily crucial to be able to understand this drabble.

“Baby! Have you seen my–”

You giggle to yourself as this neverending saga of Namjoon asking, ‘have you seen this thing that I always use and yet I always forget where I keep it,’ continues.

“Check the first drawer on your left-hand side of the hallway cabinet,” you yell from the bathroom. You hear him let out an audible sigh of relief as he retrieves the item that he needs for your trip.

“Got it, thank you! Never leave me, please,” he calls out when he re-enters your bedroom.

You laugh while reaching for your face wash to begin your bedtime routine. You also had a flight to catch tomorrow.

From your bathroom, you hear Namjoon scuttling around–distant sounds of drawers opening, closet doors sliding on their track, then followed by the rustling sound of things being stuffed into his suitcase.

You press your face oil gently into your skin, the last step in your skincare regimen. Afterward, you double-check your cosmetics case on the counter to make sure that you had all of your travel essentials.

From your peripheral vision, you catch his reflection in the mirror. When you lift your head, you find him leaning against the doorframe, eyeing you intently.

He wore a dorky but affectionate smile on his face while his arms were crossed over his chest.

“Lose something again?” You ask in a teasing tone.

He shook his head slowly. “I found everything I needed.”

“Well, as we always say, if we forget something, we can always buy it out there.”

He nods vaguely, not really caring about anything else. He still stood there, sporting the same grin on his face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

“And yet you’re just going to stand there gawking?”

“Nah, I’m just…thinking.”

Your eyebrows lift in curiosity. You lean your hip against the bathroom counter, somewhat mirroring his posture.

“About what?”

“How lucky I am to be with you.”

Your breath hitches and your cheeks flush. “That’s it?”

“And I’m also thinking how glad I am that Celina forced us to work on that contract bid together,” he chuckled.

You laughed in turn and thought back on how your relationship began. His unexpected nostalgia piqued your curiosity. 

He gently pushes off the doorframe and saunters toward you. He stopped short, lifted his hand to your cheek, and brushed it with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered.

The sentiment made warmth bloom within your chest. Then, looking at your reflection in the mirror, you let out a soft chuckle. 

“What’s so funny about what I said?” He asks.

“I mean, look at me! I look all funny,” you replied. You still had your spa headband on and looked like a glazed donut since your face oil hadn’t quite set into your skin yet.

“You know I don’t care about that,” he waved you off. “And for the record, I am looking at you. I think you’re beautiful whether you’re all done up, dressed in your sexy power suit; or bare-faced in your flannel pajamas.” He planted a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Okay, what’s gotten into you?”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I’m just really looking forward to our vacation.”

But the way he smiled roused more suspicion in you. “Uh-huh, sure.” 

You’d booked this trip a while ago and you had to make sure that you and Namjoon had synchronized your calendars months in advance to have a quiet, uninterrupted week where you both could unwind and reconnect.

Namjoon also insisted on booking a couple of island excursions for you, which was a shock because he didn’t usually like having scheduled activities while on vacation. We go on vacation to get away from schedules, he often said.

He remained tight-lipped about what he has planned. The only hint he’s given you was that it would be totally unexpected and to pack comfortably. It was no help to you at all.

You finally take off your headband and stow it under your skincare drawer. “I’m pretty excited, too. I can’t wait to find out what you have planned for us.” 

He bit at his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. “Good. I’m glad you’re looking forward to it!” His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Actually, while I stood back there watching you, I thought I’d give you a sneak peek of what I had planned before we leave. It’s nothing huge.” Then he squints one eye and gestures with his thumb and forefinger. “Just this small, tiny thing,” he grins mischievously.

While your mind races about this ‘surprise’, he breaks away from you and sinks his hand into his pocket. As you watch him get down on one knee, you swallow the grapefruit-sized lump in your throat. It takes you a few seconds to realize that he was holding up an open box in his hand. In it was the tell-tale ring that had been burning a hole into your brain since discovering its existence.

Your hands fly up to cover your mouth in shock at the sight of it. It was anything but small or tiny– judging by the solitaire’s cut.

“YN, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You were completely dumbfounded. You’d thought about this moment; pictured it over and over in your head. What the scenario would be, what he would say to you, and how you would feel. You’d even planned potential outfits!

And now, it was actually happening. You’re standing in your bathroom, barefoot, dressed in a worn-out sleep shirt and your underwear.

You were so utterly overcome with emotion, the first words that come out of your mouth are, “Nooo…stop it…” You whined softly through your trembling fingers as the tears start pushing their way past your eyes. 

It was not exactly the reaction nor the response that he envisioned. Confused, he asks, “I’m sorry, what? D-did you just say…‘no’?”

He also looked like he was on the verge of tears, but for a completely different reason.

When your brain cells manage to click again, you laugh through your sniffling. You hastily kneel right in front of him. “Oh, no…baby…” His face crumples at the sound of ‘no.’ Realizing your mistake again, you continue to rectify the situation. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you explain.

Finally, you grab his face in your hands, bring it closer to yours, then plant a lingering kiss on him. You look him right in his eyes, and squeal, “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!” 

He cracks a hesitant smile and in the softest voice possible, he asks, “Really?”

“Yes, Namjoon! I love you!” You kiss him again and apologize. “I was just so…overwhelmed by the moment and ...how,” You took a second to glance down at your pants-less state, “…Uhhh… comfortable, I look.” You babbled and laughed through teary eyes.

“I really didn’t mean to say ‘no’ and scare you. I panicked and it just sort of slipped out,” You were still shaking, feeling as if your heart would burst from so much joy and love for him.

He breaks into a throaty laugh, his chest and shoulders vibrating, much to your relief.

“I seriously didn’t expect this, though,” you remarked in earnest.

“Are you kidding?” He deadpans, thinking back to when you saw the ring’s order confirmation email on his phone. “You mean to tell me that you weren’t expecting this? At all?” his tone is light and teasing.

Since finding out about the ring, you’d been secretly trying to search where he’s hidden it. Your little brother, Jungkook, had been discouraging you from doing so because it would ruin the magic of the moment. 

“I mean, I had hoped that it would happen during our trip,” you admit shyly.

“Hah! I gotcha there, didn’t I?” He says smugly. In reality, Namjoon had asked Jungkook to keep the ring hidden at his place after the day you found out to throw you off the scent. It worked out perfectly.

You rolled your eyes, but not in annoyance. He was being playful and you had to hand it to him; he pulled off this surprise successfully. 

While still on the floor, he carefully pulls the piece of jewelry out of the box. He takes your left hand and slides the ring up your finger. It was a perfect fit! He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it, making you feel butterflies in response.

The fluttering compels you to kiss him again, celebrating this moment. Unable to stop smiling, your cheeks feel delightfully sore through the rest of the night.

******

When you crawl into bed together later that night, he makes a confession. “You know, I wasn’t actually planning on proposing tonight,” he laughed. “I had a whole thing planned when we got to the hotel. Jungkookie helped me coordinate. Dinner by the beach, flowers, and a ukulele player. He even called one of his buddies to do this wild drone shot…”

You listen as he continues to talk about his original proposal plan. You laugh and shake your head at the extra effort that Jungkook convinced his Namjoonie-hyung to make so you can be completely blown away.

You smile in appreciation as your brother has always been supportive of your relationship from day one. It was only right that you’d still make an effort to act surprised when the dinner happened–if only to hear Jungkook’s elation at the news.

“What’s changed your mind? You don’t usually blow your load early,” you teased. He glared while you cackled then he pinches the ticklish spot on your hip bone, making you yelp and recoil your body.

He’s laughing as you try to defend yourself from another ticklish assault from him.

“I don’t know…” He shrugged. “It’s just that, I saw you standing in the bathroom. While watching you, all of these memories came flooding back. Specifically, the moment I first saw you.”

“On that web conference?” You laughed at his recollection.

He nods wistfully. “I was in denial at first but I unconsciously knew that you had me right then. So I thought–fuck it! I didn’t care about where we were or what we were doing. I just knew that I wanted to be with you…forever.”

You beamed through your happy tears and pepper him with kisses.

*******

You wake the next morning like you’ve woken just about every morning since you’ve been with Namjoon–with him pressed into your back, his lips kissing down your spine slowly and lazily. It’s blissful, mind-numbing. And, as always, your melt under the warmth of his mouth rousing you from your dreams. 

The friction of your skin rubbing together takes you from warm to blazing in a snap. The feel of his morning arousal brushing your thighs awakens your senses.

You reach back, pushing your fingers through his morning mess of a hair, sighing your contentment.

“Morning,” he murmurs, peppering soft kisses on your shoulder while rolling his hips into your ass at the same time. His hands creep up from behind you to palm your breasts from underneath your shirt. You gasp softly when he gently pinches a hardened nipple.

“You ready for me, baby?”

Your body responds to his call instinctively. Your need for him is incessant. “Always.”

You reach back between you two and pull on your underwear’s waistband halfway down. Namjoon tugs on it the rest of the way through, lifting your knees up to completely rid yourself of them.

You wriggle toward him to find that he’d already stripped off his shorts. He palms your center, sucking and kissing your neck while his fingertips tease your clit.

You part your legs for him, not just wanting to give him better access but your ache for him has grown into a steady hunger.

You grind your hips into his touch, making him laugh huskily into your ear. “A little impatient, are we?”

“You started this and now you want to pump the brakes?” You sassed.

“There’s my firecracker,” he smirks before his teeth graze the shell of your ear. “Go ahead then. Put me in.”

As much as you loved when Namjoon took command during sex, it thrilled you even more when he relinquished control to you.

You reach between you two and wrap your fingers around his cock. He groans when your hand slides down his length slowly…teasing him until he groans impatiently, making him nip at your flesh. “Okay, you’ve made your point!” His annoyed protest makes you giggle mischievously.

You line him up to your center, brushing the tip against your wet folds, making him curse under his breath.

In one slow, calculated movement, he’s inside you. You grip his hair, crying out in unison once you take him to the hilt.

In an instant, you’re both floating on cloud nine, mere moments after waking. And you know that’s Namjoon’s intention each time— to start your day being reminded of how much he wanted and desired you…how much he loved you.

One look, one word from this man and he has you all worked up in a frenzy. You listen to him whisper sweet nothings in your ear, how good you make him feel, how he wishes he could spend hours and days just like this. You take comfort in the deep baritone of his just-woke-up voice. It was right on par with his bedtime voice, when he says that he wants to fuck you senseless, leaving you completely sated before you drift off for the night—thighs still trembling.

You lean into his touch, tilting your neck backward to offer your mouth to him. He takes it, tongue dipping right in, cupping your jaw whilst he savored you. 

Your bodies move in perfect synchronicity like they were made specifically with each other in mind…because they were. You’d never question the sense in that especially when you’re so close and intimate like this. 

“You still with me?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you manage to respond.

He pulls out of you and you let out a whine of protest. “On your stomach,” he says gruffly. 

Lost in a fucked-out daze, you obey.

He slides over you while you were stretched out on your stomach. His hand pushed between your hip and the mattress, reaching between your legs to cup you in his hand. You were so wet and slick for him. You let out a muffled moan when palmed your clit.

“I want you this way,” He says, brushing his lips across your cheek.

He reaches for his pillow with this free hand and then shoves it underneath you while lifting your hips to the angle that he wanted, preferably one that would let him sink in deeper.

“Joon…” The manner in which you said his name was a plea. He’d left you empty for too long and you were anxious for him to fill you again.

He acknowledges the need in your voice. “I know, baby.” He shifts, urging your legs apart. Then, he gently presses on the small of your back, urging you to bend lower, angling your ass up higher for him.

With his hands on your hips, he slid back into you. You fisted at the sheets on either side of you, relishing the stretch to your center.

“Fuck, yesss,” you dragged out.

He picked up the rhythm, feeling the air seize from your lungs whenever his hips slam against your ass. You pressed your face hard into your pillow, gasping and moaning incoherently while he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

His teeth gritted, barely restraining the growls that surged from his throat. His chest heaved against your back, his ragged breaths ruffling the hairs on the back of your neck.

His hips churned, fucking into you; pushing in further. He could feel your walls around his length. They clench in ripples that make his cock twitch in excitement.

The pressure building up within him was persistent but he was capable of keeping it under control. He wanted to give you all the pleasure he could offer. Your moans of satisfaction are more than enough to set off his own release.

You whimper, helplessly writhing under him while he punishes you with each stroke. Reaching between your legs, you rubbed circles on your pulsing clit, making your cunt tremble then tighten around his cock in a vice-like grip.

Finally, you tip over the edge. Cumming with a loud, lingering moan.

Aroused by your orgasm, he shut his eyes and dropped his forehead to your cheek. He inhaled your scent and let go, coming just as hard, his ass flexing as he filled you.

A few beats later, Namjoon gingerly turns you over on your back, pulling the pillow from underneath you and tossing it to the side. Exhausted, he collapses on you but is careful not to squish you. Although, if you were going to be honest, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you.

He was crowding you now, where he will remain for the next few minutes while he snoozes on you, nuzzling and kissing your misted neck. You hold onto him and savor the moment you cherish each morning before you have to get up and head to the airport for your trip.

He rubbed his damp hair against your cheek. “Love you.”

Your head turned, your lips seeking his. Breathing into the kiss, you reply, “Love you, too.”

You sigh into his shoulder as you settle, pressing him tightly against your chest, getting him as close as you possibly can. In your own silent way, you’re telling him that you’re also happy to remain where you are.

Smiling softly, he lifts your left hand up to his lips to kiss the ring he had given you last night. Your heart squeezes, relishing in the promise of forever with him.

You’ll always think back fondly on that magical evening when you said, “No…stop it.”

Intersect Series Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @yu-justme @joonschocochip  @majamarantha @yoongukie-ff @shesoldbutcute​

[toughtinkcosplay]

let's make fearne horns!

a step-by-step tutorial for making foam horns for cosplay

this was originally posted to twitter last year, but since twitter’s decided to ram itself through a brick wall repeatedly for some reason, i’m reposting here.

materials/supplies:

wire (the hardware store kind, not the flimsy jewelry kind. you want it bendable but sturdy enough to hold whatever size horns you’re making.)

craft foam/eva foam (thickness depends on project needs)

triangular foam dowel

tape or paper for patterning

barge cement (or other brand contact cement)

foam clay

plastidip spray

acrylic paints

gloss spray

heat gun

scissors

paint brushes

something to wrap horns around depending on curl needs

headband or something else to attach the horns to for wearing

the process:

1️⃣ pattern horn curl using tape or paper. mine is going to be a long triangle shape along it’s top face.

2️⃣ cut out of craft foam & trim/taper triangular foam dowel to match. cut wire to match this length plus a couple extra inches for attaching to a headband later on.

3️⃣ carve valley into dowel & glue wire into it using barge cement. tape is helpful for holding the wire down while it dries. be sure to follow glue instructions for use which usually requires good airflow/ventilation in the space! for me, that means opening the window, turning on a fan, and wearing a mask to avoid fumes.

4️⃣ glue foam dowels to craft foam.

5️⃣ spiral horns carefully around a cylinder, heat forming tips where wire can’t reach. the hardest part here is to get both sides even. (i think i used a wooden dowel or a curtain rod for my spirals??)

6️⃣ fill gaps between dowel & craft foam with foam clay, using finger + water to smooth it out. if you want to add any ridges or scars to your horns, do it once this part is dry and before the next step—but i wanted mine to be smooooth.

7️⃣ once dry (give it a couple days just in case), heat seal with a heat gun & spray with plastidip. do multiple coats to get all the angles because spirals are WEIRD!

8️⃣ paint with acrylics.

9️⃣ gloss spray!

🔟 using the bit of wires sticking out, attach to a headband or wig to wear! mine actually poke through my wig and attach to a headband that sits inside the wig which fearne’s ears also attach to.

i hemmed and hawed over how to approach these originally because i know most folks would either 3d print them or do a proper full craft-foam pattern, but i’m crap at cutting craft foam and i hate sculpting digitally and ALSO don’t have a 3d printer. so i did it my way! and it was fun!! plus, the final horns are super lightweight which makes them great for wearing all day! the flexibility of the wire also allows them to have some pose-ability which can be nice for photos to make sure they’re visible.

[oftenwantedafton]

Marked - Steve Raglan/William Afton x College Student Female Reader

Chapters 2 + 3

Rating: Explicit

CW - sexual content

Also available on AO3

The last two hours of your shift at the coffee shop seem to drag for an eternity.

You do your best to ignore the stares and comments of fellow employees, to forget the ripped tights and bent headband discarded in the small steel wastebin in the employee restroom, to pretend not to notice how saturated your panties are, because you’d let some man more than twice your age finger you until you came in the parking lot.

You walk to the bus stop after the evening has finally ended, the backpack with a textbook you’d intended to study from during your break untouched, the weight dragging at your shoulder. You wonder if William’s promise of “later” actually meant tonight.

It does.

You’ve no idea where he’s taking you but there’s no way you'd deny him. Your fingers twitch, longing to touch him but you’re still unsure of the boundaries, what the proper etiquette is. He’s in control, and you prefer it that way, at least for now.

The building he finally parks in front of looks abandoned.

The lot is overgrown, the structure itself beginning to succumb to vines and brush. There’s a sign lying nearby, the pole long since surrendering to the elements, the collection of letters spaced oddly, jumbled with time and weather but still indicating precisely what you already know: this place is closed.

Remarkably the sign on the establishment itself remains intact, a colorful depiction of a friendly looking bear waving in greeting. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. The name sounds vaguely familiar. A franchise of children’s party themed restaurants. The kind of place you’d play skee ball and eat greasy food and submit tickets in exchange for a cheap plastic toy.

William exits the car wordlessly, already working on the padlock chaining the front gate closed. You depart the vehicle much more slowly, shivering, wondering why he’s brought you here, of all places.

“Come on in,” he invites, holding the glass door open.

You move forward uncertainly, stepping cautiously over broken concrete and litter, looking a question at the older man and he nods reassuringly. “It’s ok. I’ll get the lights up and running when we get inside.”

You enter the building but venture no more than a couple of feet inside. “Why are we here?”

“You wanted to see what I’ve been working on. Well, this is it.”

“You…bought this place? You’re renovating it?” you inquire, puzzled.

“Ah, well, I own it, yes. And I guess you could call it renovating.” He smirks, dimples creasing the corners of his mouth. “Wait here while I go flip the switch for the generator.”

You nod, peering at your dark surroundings. There’s a tall archway lined with planks of wood bracketed by a welcome sign, a crank machine half full of gum balls, and a faded menu lying on the floor nearby.

And then the lights flicker on, little sparks of electricity crackling around the room as it comes to life before your eyes. There are dozens of padded yellow booths, long rows of tables and chairs, and two raised platform areas obscured by crimson curtains. Shelves with long forgotten prizes sit above glass cases filled with abandoned treasures. You can hear the arcade machines humming nearby.

William reappears from the still shadowed recesses of the room beyond, beckoning you forward.

You take a deep breath and step into the archway.

This is your first night at Freddy’s.

***

“This place was really popular back in the 80’s,” William says, gesturing towards a door marked Manager.

“What happened?” You step inside the room, noting a large steel desk and swivel office chair. The surface is littered with papers, and the trash can in the corner is overflowing with crumpled up pages.

“Oh, you know. There were some issues,” he says vaguely.

“What issues?” You reach the desk and recognize the patterns scrawled on every page, if not in purpose then at least in form: the ones he’d been working on so raptly at the cafe each morning.

“Parents complained. No one ever found anything. Anyway, that’s all in the past.” He presses along your back, arms bracing on either side of you, trapping you against the metal structure. “So, what do you think?” he breathes against your ear.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“Spring locks. For inside the animatronics. Something was needed so a person could be inside the suits without getting injured. There’s so much delicate wiring, circuitry…”

“You got injured, though. Those scars on your arm…” Suddenly, it all clicks into place.

“Mmm. And other places…” You feel his feral smile. “Well, practice makes perfect. Wouldn’t know if it worked or not until I tried it out.” His lips brush your lobe, tease your neck while he hikes up your dress in one fluid movement, already working on dragging your panties out of the way. “So now you know what I’ve been working on. What do you think?” he rasps, squeezing one buttocks cheek, nails digging into your flesh. “You like it?”

You’re not entirely sure if he’s referring to the design or his touch or perhaps both but you nod anyway, allowing the splayed digits spread across your spine to push you until you’re bent over the desk.

“Good girl. I knew you’d understand.” You hear a rapid series of clicks as the teeth of a zipper release, hear the weight of belted pants striking the floor.

And then he’s inside you.

You know how large he is, for your hands, anyway, but stretching you, filling you is something else entirely. He thrusts forward and it hits deep. You grind back against him, wanting him inside as far as he can reach.

All your pent up arousal lubricates so well, makes a wet sound as flesh collides in a steady rhythm. He grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head back roughly, fucking you more rapidly. You know he’s close, hear it in the way his breathing grows more ragged, and then he’s filling you up, relaxing his grip at last.

You turn to face him, legs wobbly, your own breathing harsh as you wind his tie around your hand, pulling his mouth to yours. You feel his seed running down your thighs, taste sweat on the skin of his neck.

You don’t know what it is, this thing between you, but you like it, and you want more.

***

A late afternoon class finishes and he’s there, waiting just as he’d promised. The winter daylight fades early now, already shrouding you in darkness. He’s taken you to a wooded area, an old picnic spot on a hiking trail.

“Let’s get in the back.”

You follow him to the rear seats of the vehicle, straddling his thighs as you climb into his lap, tugging on the knot of his tie and he grins, assisting you in its removal. He shoves your wrists together as if you’re about to be handcuffed, winding the tie in a circular pattern.

The purple satin material binds you, tight and just on the verge of being painful. He pushes against your shackled limbs until they’re secured on the front headrest, then slides his hands beneath your chenille sweater, a cool caress against your warm skin. He murmurs appreciatively over the crimson lace bra you’re wearing, a match for the thong tucked beneath black leggings.

He removes the clothing covering your lower body slowly, smirks when he sees you squirm helplessly, eager for his next touch.

The fistful of panties is brought to his mouth. You see him inhale deeply, tongue lapping at the damp crotch of the material and he growls, teasing abandoned rapidly. He opens his pants and pistons his hips up inside you in one swift movement.

It still suprises you, that wide stretch, that feeling of being torn apart from the inside out. You can see the faint outline of his cock through your abdomen every time he thrusts and it makes you even wetter.

He drags a thumb across your clit and you grind down onto him, cursing with need. The leather seating creaks in protest with every frantic movement accompanied by staccato pants of pleasure and desire.

Your head whips back, colliding with the padding of the headrest. He cups your jaw, slides a thumb across your lips and you suck the offering, tracing the patterns of creases, dragging over smooth nailbed, stroking over the rounded edge.

He slams harder against your body, impaling you as deep as he can and then you feel the hand against your shudder, feel his cum spilling inside of you and your own release follows, sliding sloppily against his fingers, throbbing around him.

***

He brings you to the park often, occasionally takes you in the car outside of work because he cannot wait any longer to have you. You take the bus to his office at the career development center one day to visit him on his lunch break and he kneels in front of you while you lean against the wooden door, then thrusts his tongue against your pussy until you climax all over his face. Next you’re the one kneeling, sucking him off behind the desk, swallowing his thick creamy load, shuddering when he praises you, tingling when he kisses you afterwards and tastes himself, licking at any stray fluids you might have missed. It’s filthy and depraved and you love every minute of it.

He comes to your apartment as well, under the pretense of helping you study, reading flash cards or reciting notes but it always dissolves into intimacy. You cook together standing half dressed at the stove, you order take out and watch bad sitcoms on TV and it almost feels normal, except you know it isn’t. He’ll look at his watch, another relic from decades past, and you know what it means.

He’s going home, to a world you will never be part of.

***

He takes you back to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza after the first snow falls, the moisture melting into your hair as he presses tokens into your hand, watching you with a bemused expression as you accept the challenge and thumb one in the slot. You’re rubbish at these old arcade games, but you’re determined to try your best, finding the joystick stiff and awkward as the pixelated characters move across the angled screen. You mash the buttons, cursing when you lose and immediately slide another coin into the slot.

“Practice,” he instructs behind you, and you do, demolishing the stack of metal imprinted with the friendly bear’s face faster than you would’ve thought possible. You’re improving, at least. Not dying as quickly anyway. Scoring higher. Not good enough to place among the elite, though.

“WAF must have sunk a lot of time into this,” you mutter, seeing the same three initials repeated ten times.

“I did. Sometimes you need a break.”

You turn, surprised. “Wait, you’re WAF?”

He nods, scooping more tokens from his pocket. “First initial and part of last name. Don’t have a middle one.”

It reminds you that you’ve never learned his last name. You think to ask him now, but he’s already sauntered up to the machine.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got then, hotshot.” You push his arm playfully, watching the reflection of the screen in his lenses, admiring the way his long fingers deftly manipulate buttons and maneuver the joystick with ease.

Of course he not only puts your efforts to shame, he manages to beat one of his previous high scores.

“Show off.”

He smirks, rolling a token between his thumb and index finger. “You ever use a jukebox?”

“No.”

“It’s over there.” He drops the coin into your open palm and then grasps your arms, turning you to face the right direction. “Pick anything you want.”

You nod, making your way across the confetti printed carpet to a glowing machine with rows of buttons. You don’t recognize all of the songs, finally deciding to just choose one at random.

It’s a slow rock song from the 80’s, something with saxophone and a sultry feminine voice.

“Good choice.” William’s behind you, sliding his hands down your arms, lacing your fingers together. “Dance with me.”

You’re suddenly shy, the soft protest dying on your lips when he starts to sway, still holding your body tightly against his.

You surrender and follow the movement, hear him hum the accompanying melody against your ear. It seems you’ve chosen something he enjoys just through sheer luck.

Or maybe he just likes you.

He turns you with ease and your hands entwine around his neck while his settle on your waist. The neon lights shine on his glasses in bands of green and yellow and pink, a kaleidoscope of color. His head dips lower and his mouth finds yours. The song ends but your exploration doesn’t, nails dragging down his chest while he knots a hand in your hair, kissing more fiercely. You tease along the seam of the crotch of his pants and he groans into your mouth. You trace the outline of his cock before sliding past one hip and squeezing his buttocks.

“Come on.” You would’ve let him have you right there, bent over the prize counter or flung across a dining table but he always seem reluctant to be intimate in this section of the restaurant, as if there’s some sacred unspoken rule against it. Your gaze flickers to the curtained stage as he tugs you along and you wonder if it’s something to do with the animatronics, but you can’t fathom exactly what that might mean.

The manager’s office is familiar to you now, but you don’t recognize the yellow costume slumped in the corner. It’s massive, big enough to house a human certainly, the mascot’s headpiece sitting atop the desk. It’s clearly seen better days, the fur of the suit so frayed and worn in places that the metal frame and wires are exposed. The rabbit’s head is missing part of one ear.

“Oh, yes. I left this in here didn’t I?” He’s nuzzling your throat but he’s only got half your attention now.

“This is yours? Like, you wear this?” You slide a hand over the worn gold felt and try to imagine his long body encased in this creature. The oversized purple bowtie droops forlornly above a pair of black buttons, the only decorations on the costume.

“Sometimes.” He cups your breasts, tugs at the button of your jeans, seemingly oblivious to your lack of responsiveness to his ministrations.

“And do what?”

His groping digits finally still in the middle of tugging your zipper down. “Practice.”

“Practice? For what? Are you going to be a performer?” You can’t envision the older man at a child’s birthday party, posing for photos and waving to guests.

He clucks his tongue and sighs, clearly frustrated. “No. I need it for my other work.”

“I don’t understand.” When his hands attempt to resume their previous task you halt them, pushing him away.

He steps back, glowering. “Maybe I should just take you home now. You have an exam to study for.” His words are short, clipped and cold, a sharp contrast from his affections moments before.

It infuriates you. “Bullshit!” You slam your hand down on the desk. “You always have secrets and I’m tired of it. Why can’t you just explain it to me. I’m not a child.”

William’s pale eyes flash. “What is it exactly that you think having an affair with a married man is? That’s all it comprises. Secrets. Deception. Sneaking around. I give you whatever time I can—”

“I never said you didn’t—”

“—And I’ve told you, shown you more than anyone else. Anyone else,” he repeats, emphasizing the first word.

You swallow thickly, unable to reply. How did he manage to turn all this around, to make you feel guilty for doubting him when everything is so shrouded in mystery?

“I’m sorry,” you murmur softly.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this. You should just focus on school. Forget all of this.”

“So what, that’s it then? You’re just ditching me?” You feel the tears welling up in your eyes threatening to spill. “You don’t care about me at all, do you? I mean nothing to you.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.” He reaches out to brush at the tears spilling over your cheeks, then his hand drops and forms a fist, knuckles blanching. “I’m trying to keep you safe,” he murmurs, but his gaze is no longer on you. He looks as if he’s waging some internal battle.

“Safe from what, William?”

His eyes find yours. “You need to trust me, or this is never going to work.”

You nod, still unsure, but unwilling to abandon this, as crazy as it might seem.

You can’t imagine existing without him.

Chapter 3

The ride home is silent.

Your hands are balled into fists resting on denim clad thighs. You stare sightlessly through the passenger window until you reach your destination.

The vehicle slows, slipping around a bit on the snow covered streets. It’s not deep but it’s starting to freeze as the evening wears on and the temperature drops. The engine quiets and you hear the slight jingle of keys being pulled from the ignition and a creak as the driver’s side door swings open.

You take a deep breath, stepping out onto the slush covered curb after William pulls your door open. He remains silent, his gaze heavy on you as you shove at the passenger door. It fails to close properly and you rip it back open with more force than necessary before slamming it closed again. The tears are back and you hate that you nearly made it without letting him see how hurt you are again.

You begin the trek up the stairs on the side of the building, clutching tightly to the railing. He’s right behind you, an extra shadow.

You’ve nearly made it to the top when you slip on a patch of ice concealed by snow and he catches you in his arms, wrapping around you and holding you steady.

You protest then, tell him he should just go home, the storm is making the roads unsafe, it’s getting late, you think it’s just easier if you make the excuses for him. You can’t stomach another lie right now.

“I’m not leaving,” he vows, helping you fumble the keys into the lock.

The warm air indoors blankets you as you stumble inside, kicking off sneakers and shrugging off your jacket. You wait for William to do the same, watching as he fills the electric kettle with water, removes a pair of mugs from the cabinet near the sink and rummages for tea bags, moving around the kitchen confidently. You scrub at your tear stained cheeks and mutter that you can help but he waves you away.

You sniffle but allow him to continue, grateful for the warm cup that’s pressed into your hands moments later. You’re focused on the amber liquid within when he speaks again, startling you.

“There are things in my life that you can’t be part of-”

“Yeah I know you have a family,” you interrupt bitterly.

“I’m not talking about that,” he snaps, setting his own cup back on the counter. He inhales deeply, his voice calmer. “There are things that I’m working on that are dangerous.” Your eyes flicker to his forearm, where you know he’s been branded by the spring locks from the mascot costume. He nods, rubbing over the sleeve of his dress shirt. “Yes, this, among other things.”

You want to ask about the other things, but you’re afraid he’s going to be upset with you again; perhaps even more afraid of what sinister things they might actually be. “I could help. I would try to, anyway,” you mumble.

William shakes his head dismissively. “I just hired someone earlier today for security at night. There’s been some problems with break-ins. Which brings me to my next point: it isn’t safe to be there without me. Understand?”

“Why would I go there without you? And you never told me about any vandalism,” you add. “And what if someone breaks in while you’re there by yourself? What if they have a weapon or something?”

“I’ll manage. I know how to protect myself.” He takes the mug from your hands and sets it next to his, then turns and grasps your arms firmly. “I need you to promise me you won’t go there without me. And you let me handle all of this. Don’t get involved. The less you know, the better. Promise me,” he repeats, his grip tightening slightly, and you nod hurriedly.

“Ok. I promise I won’t go to Freddy’s without you.” Your eyes dart to the clock on the microwave. “You’re really going to stay tonight?”

His grip relaxes, fingers sliding along your body in a caress. “I’ve got spare clothes in the car. I’ll need to leave first thing in the morning…” his voice trails off and you find yourself whispering an acceptance of his offer.

***

William’s always been very cautious about exposing certain parts of his body.

You’ve felt the springlock scars at various times, but you’ve never actually seen all of them.

Now he’s standing naked in your shower, hot water cascading down, and the true damage is revealed.

You trace the patterns, following the strange markings over his chest and arms and back, palpate the muscle underlying pale marred skin, especially in his upper arms and shoulders, his stomach much softer beneath your touch. You’ve ignited him again, allow him to press you against the fiberglass wall, face forward, one hand tucked under a thigh to support your weight and allow better access as he slides inside of you. He suckles at your neck, teeth grazing at times, thrusts harder and lets his hands wander over your body, squeezing dampened curves.

It continues in your bed with his body above yours.

The lights are off and his breath is warm and harsh against your cheek. His fingers close around your throat, applying a faint amount of pressure and you arch against him, encouraging him. You whisper his name and pledge your love, threading a hand through damp hair, feel him shudder and melt against you, inside of you.

You’re tucked neatly against his naked body an hour later, listening to him snore softly. Your eyes will not shut and sleep evades you.

In the early morning hours he departs and you remain near the door, staring at the violet tinged sky.

***

You’re in a daze at work, zombie paced, there without actually being present. Lectures at the university are muffled blurs. You feel as if everything in life is muted, colorless, without purpose until those moments when William is there, crashing in, warm and vibrant.

You visit him at the career counseling office, sitting across from his desk, waiting for him to finish a phone call, gaze wandering until you realize the name placard on his desk isn’t William. His eyes find yours and you swallow the question, watching as he flicks the plastic stand so the name Steve Raglan is no longer visible. After the handset slides back into its cradle the older man stands and walks around the desk. Tucking fingers under your chin he lifts your face, regarding you over lenses that have slipped down.

“We’re not going to have a problem, are we?”

You try to shake your head but his grip on your jaw is too tight so you whisper a response, let him fill your mouth with his cock and his seed and praise you for being a good girl.

He calls you late at night, moans and edges while you touch yourself, stroking your clit and whimpering, dipping fingers inside, sucking them wetly so he can hear. He tells you he’s cumming for you and you chase your own orgasm, biting your bottom lip hard to stifle the sound so your neighbors won’t hear.

Back at the pizzeria there’s a suspicious red stain on one of the sinks but you look away hurriedly and pretend not to notice. The rabbit suit vanishes from the manager’s office and you’re just as glad it’s gone. You don’t like what the costume brings out in William; the way he almost enjoys enduring the painful risk being encased in its steel skeleton entails. You’re frightened when he handles a knife during dinner, the touch almost a caress, the glint of metal matching the light in his eyes. The dark romance you’ve let yourself become swept up in suddenly seems foolish. Dangerous.

But you just can’t bring yourself to walk away.

William seems to know it too; becoming more gentle and attentive just when you’re at your most startled, ready to run. He buries his face in your hair, wraps his arms around you, whispers that he loves you and you’ll be together forever.

You want so much to believe him.

You return home briefly during Christmas break to visit family and the strange spell lifts. You talk and laugh as if everything is normal and you can almost pretend that it is.

Almost.

[kana-daydreams]

𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲

summary: the anger of the general is quelled by the power of a cute black-and-white bear?

𝐏𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Days off. 

One of the most anticipated days of many, if not every, employed and unemployed individual’s life.

They were days most cherished by Warumono and days which held his most fondest memories.

But today?

Today is a day off the general loathes.

Today is a day off he despises. And will never in his life cherish for as long as he lives. He swears it on the existence of every panda past, present and future of this ill-fated earth. 

Why? Because...

Today he was having a very bad day. 

First, it started with all the liquified ice-cream in his freezer from the sudden power outage at his apartment complex. No power also meaning he was unable to stream any panda videos on the internet.

Second, to resolve his ice-cream problem, he'd made a trip to the convenience store only to find out that the strawberry ice-cream, his second favourite to the sweet potato flavour, was out-of-stock. 

But the worst case of them all? A nightmare? 

The zoo was closed.  

And work called.

Now, as his day off reaches close to nearing its end, Warumono aimlessly trudges along a narrow stretch of road with sluggish footsteps, slumped shoulders and face set into a deep frown. All while, he unintentionally wards off any passer-by with his gloomy and menacing aura.

He manages a few more paces, slowing his steps when his eyes latch on to an item displayed behind the storefront glass window of a small shop to his left. His eyes glimmer, gaze riveting on the panda-themed tea set, before flickering to the sign beside it that reads “limited stock.”

Promptly, he’s inside the store and in front of the checkout counter voicing his request.

“I’m sorry sir, but the last one was sold to the couple behind you.”

At the sale clerk's words, a tense and unsettling silence engulfs the room, and Warumono’s body shudders violently as he feels all rationality elude him. 

He feels his human disguise succumbing bit by bit to his formidable true nature, his mind narrowing in on one thought, and one thought alone. A self-made promise.

That today is the day he will single-handedly rain hell-fire upon earth.

That today he will enact his vengeance on every. living. creature— excluding pandas—for ruining his special—

 “Step away from the counter!”

Warumono snaps his head around with a growl at the demand of a familiar voice, anger and annoyance burning in his yellow eyes. All instantaneously doused at a sight that causes his breath to hitch; and a sight he deems the most adorable in all the galaxy, standing a few feet ahead of him.

“I told you. One slip up and—”

“Y-You’re…half panda.” Warumono’s voice, laced with genuine surprise, interrupts. 

Your face contorts into utter confusion. “Huh? What nonsense are you spouting, villain. I’m not half panda. I’m human.”

“But…you have panda ears.” He points an index finger at your head.

“Dim-wit, these aren’t real. It’s just a headband.” You remove the fluffy, panda ears headband from your head. “See.” You say before fixing it back to your head.

Warumono makes a beeline in your direction, his sudden closeness catching you by surprise. More surprised when he reaches his large hands towards your head to tug on the black ears of your band.

“They’re so soft.” He murmurs, a soft blush painting his cheeks.

“Stop doing that!” You groan in annoyance, swatting his hands away, before distancing yourself from him; and you swear you notice a sad pout on his face. Or maybe you’re just imagining it?

Warumono clears his throat, attempting to compose himself. “Uh…where did you get it?”

You quirk an eyebrow at his question. “ …Three stores down.” 

You’re barely finished with your sentence when you feel a rush of wind lash against you— making you, for a second, clench your eyes. 

And when it subsides, you open them to see Warumono nowhere in sight.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

[sagesolsticewrites]

Scaredy Cat | vampire!Austin x reader

Your boyfriend takes you to a haunted house on Halloween.

a/n: Happy spooky season! In case y'all haven't heard, my dear friend Mila (@sassy-ahsoka-tano) posted an awesome list of Autumn/Halloween prompts! Here’s a lil blurb based on these prompts: 

“I know you’re trying to be scary, but you’re just way too cute.”

“Come on, it’s just a haunted house! It’ll be like a walk in the park.” / “More like a walk through hell.”

“You’re a scaredy cat.” / “I am not!”

Word count: 480

Warnings: None, I think? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

Masterlist | add yourself to my taglist!

You can’t help but startle as Austin swoops in behind you as you’re in the middle of making final adjustments to your costume, his fangs playfully exposed over your neck.

“Boo,” he says with a soft laugh, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You laugh, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. Austin has always looked forward to Halloween, you know, it being a time where he didn’t have to worry about hiding his fangs or covering his bloodred eyes with colored contacts.

“I know you’re trying to be scary, but you’re just way too cute,” you smile.

“Hey! I can be very scary!” he whines.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you assure him teasingly, meeting his eyes in the mirror, “you’re my big bad vampire boyfriend and you’re very scary.”

“Darn right,” he mumbles, and you can feel his smile as he peppers kisses across your cheek, “Ready to go?”

You give your costume a once-over in the mirror, making sure Austin didn’t smudge your eyeliner-drawn whiskers and adjusting your cat ear headband one last time before nodding an affirmative.

•••

You’re still not quite sure how Austin talked you into this, but as he leads you with the gaggle of Halloween celebrators up to the haunted house, the contagious excitement you feel begins to give way to dread. He’s been busy making conversation with people, many of whom are complimenting his “costume” and the two of you are nearly at the entrance when he picks up on how your steps have slowed, and he stops. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, turning to look at you and taking in the slight nervousness in your features. He squeezes your hand, teasing, “Come on, it’s just a haunted house! It’ll be like a walk in the park.”

His light tone calms your nerves somewhat, but a shudder still runs through you as you glance up at the shadowy house and take in the screams coming from it. 

“More like a walk through hell,” you mutter.

“Hey,” he pulls you closer, red eyes soft, “We don’t have to go in if you really don’t want to.”

You open your mouth to assure him that no, you actually do want to go in, but instead find yourself jumping at a particularly high-pitched scream, much to your boyfriend’s amusement.

“You’re a scaredy-cat,” he chuckles, flicking one of your fuzzy ears teasingly as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I am not!” you scowl, a pout forming on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he says, slinging a protective arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, “I’ll make sure nothing gets you while we’re in there.”

Though his tone is teasing, you know he means it. You lean into him, smiling, and allow him to lead you into the house.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93@anangelwhodidntfall@austin-butlers-gf@butlersluvbot@killerqueenfan@kittenlittle24@beauvibaby@kingelviscreole @justjacesstuff @sweetheartlizzie07@coldonexx@londonalozzy@kaycinema@annamarie16@adoreyouusugar@djconde58@mirandastuckinthe80s@luke-my-skywalker@tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae@whotfatemywaffles@gyomei-tiddies@friedwangsss@shynovelist@sassy-ahsoka-tano@she-is-juniper@hallecarey1@adoreyouusugar@iheartcbe@nora-nexus-34@finelineskies@dontbesussis@fangirl-imagines

[caffeinatedcursedcutie]

The Fangs that Bite the Hand Part 3

Damien rolled over groggily, slapping his hand around the bed for the phone that was annoyingly ringing. Finally, he managed to get his hand around it and squint at the blurry, bright screen. 2:23 AM. Call from The Office. He swiped his finger across the screen and shoved it against his face, mumbling “H’lo?”

“Agent, we need you to come in. We’re sorry to bother you so early, but this is an emergency.” The tinny man’s voice came through, and at the moment he was so sleep-addled he couldn’t place who it was. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, tossing grey sheets off from where they had been entangling his legs. He sniffed loudly, blinking. “Uh. Okay, what emergency?" His limbs felt uncooperative as he reached for the shoes next to his bed, putting them on before realizing that he probably needed to put on pants before his shoes, and that the other agent on the line had said something. "Okay, wait, what?"

"The Carmilla case you took three weeks ago?" He said again, somewhat impatiently. A Carmilla was the vampire version of a Jane Doe, somewhat of a twisted joke in the department. "You've got to pick her up. The Reformation Facility can't keep her. She can't handle the constantly rotating staff and other vampires."

"Undead Beings." Damien cut in. 

"She managed to really bloody another patient. She is a danger to staff, other patients, and herself."

"And why the hell am I being called for this?"

"You know how you picked her up and walked out with her the first day? No one else can do that. The complaint says she screams every time someone tries, and she's made no progress there."

"I'm not exactly qualified to care for-" 

"There's a huge bonus in it, a move to remote work until she is settled, and another agent will be on call 24/7 if you have to go anywhere. The higher ups will bend over backwards if you do this, they have got to keep the contract with the Reformation Clinic or we lose an entire wing of our services. That contract includes honoring removal of any patient that they see fit."

Damien sucked in a breath through his teeth. That same uncomfortable feeling, a sickness churning his stomach at the thought of what happened to her ultimately is what made him stand up off the bed. 

"Okay. I'll be there. Send me the address."

-----------

The pitch blackness of the roads caused him to miss the entrance to the facility twice, a large building that reminded him of a State Hospital placed on the very outskirts of the city. The signs showed him he was in the right place, it had lights shining on it to show "Medical Center for Undead Treatment" to passing cars. He flashed his badge at the gated checkpoint, driving his car up to the curb of the entrance. Killing the engine, he glanced at the woman through his windshield, dressed in scrubs and a headband, standing nervously on the sidewalk with a clipboard in her hands. The light coming from the double doors backlit her and made it hard to make out her features, he unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the low car, his jacket hanging over his arm. “Agent Mathews, here for a pickup.” 

As the nurse led him to an elevator, he blinked rapidly and tried to stave off the tiredness creeping into his eyes as they ascended. It was more worrying that the nurse wasn’t prattling off information, just kept glancing at him with that slightly afraid, awkward look. She must be new, probably wouldn’t last the year. After what seemed like far too long the elevator cheerfully announced the end of the ride with a ding. The two of them stepped out, and Damien noted a few things about the place. No windows, the lights were much softer and dimmer than a normal hospital, with the nurses' stations having reading lights clipped onto the sides of their computers. Security guards seemed to be around every corner, walking around with cups of coffee or looking imposing. The darker colors painted on the walls and the tiles of the floor were so much more inviting than a normal hospital. His mind soured at the thought of what task lay before him. To her, it was still a hospital, still a sterile environment that was threatening to rip her apart, starve her, and shove metal objects into her flesh. 

He shook that thought off, then realized they were standing in front of a door with three security guards around it, and the nurse was talking. 

"We can see you from this window, and we'll tranquilize her and pull you out if things get…messy." She swallowed. 

"No." Damien said. If it wasn't three in the morning, he might have had more tact. "Is that how you've been dealing with her every time she has a problem? Because, quite frankly ma'am, that's why you're not getting anywhere with her. I'm almost certain you had access to the lab files, at the very least the cursory ones that only described day to day and not the experiments themselves, but that's the same thing they did every time she so much as hissed at someone." He rolled his neck, cracking the joints to fill the silence as they looked at him. "She's scared, and being knocked out and waking up not knowing where she is over and over isn't helping." 

Damien ignored her babbling as she tried to explain it away, gesturing for the security guard to unlock the door. He walked into the room, and it was closed and locked behind him. 

He winced as he looked at the undead. At the very least, the room wasn't stark white, with walls and floor in the same dull shade of grey. Blood contrasted the floor, splattered in a trail leading to a corner, and that's where she sat, hissing and cowering behind her own arms. Red stained her fingertips, flesh bunched up under her nails. And based on those scratches across her arms, it was her own blood. As she shifted her arms, looking up at him with a strange look, he could see the gaps in her teeth, and the same red color was smeared across her mouth.

She looked tiny still, the feeding tube in her nose had helped when it was in, but she still had a long way to go. The hospital gown covering her form seemed to swamp her, covering thin hips and legs. Cowering in the corner, terrified and not understanding why they were doing this to her, it broke Damien's heart. 

With a groan at his stiff muscles, he sat on the floor across from her. "Hi honey. Remember me?" He asked gently, not surprised when he didn't really get a reaction. "Well, I remember you, that's for certain. Hard to forget. Y'know, I bet you're really scared right now. People you don't know, doing things that reminds you of the other place. But I promise, it isn't the same. Well, it isn't supposed to be. Now, they tell me you're refusing to eat, is that right kiddo?"

For the next ten minutes, he just talked to her, not even sure if she could really understand what he was saying, or if she just liked the tone of his voice. Slowly, very slowly, her arms unwrapped from herself and she was less tense. Tentatively, she started to crawl on all fours to him, one step at a time. He never once changed his reaction, never stopped talking or acknowledged the fact that she was now less than a foot away from him. 

The only time he paused was when she carefully reached out, patting at the jacket he had left on the floor between them. "Oh? You remember that? Yeah, it is nice and comfy. I've had this thing since college, it's a very good jacket." 

Keeping his hands up where she could see them, Damien picked up the jacket by the shoulders. "You want it on again? I'm glad you like it so much." She hissed at him sharply when he lifted it closer to her, for a moment it looked like she was going to dart away. He stopped, just holding it in the air. To his surprise, she reached up and took it from his hands, pulling it into her lap as she sat back on her knees. 

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

Damien shut the door, glancing back to the team from the medical center looking at him in awe. The undead looked up at him through the passenger window, slightly rocking in place from nerves of him being outside the car. Quickly, he walked around the car, keeping as close to it to stay in her line of sight, her medical papers tucked under his arm. He climbed into the car, resisting the urge to flip the medical center off as he threw the car in reverse. 

"Alright, sugar, we're going to get home. And then I'm sleeping. Lucky for you, I had a friend who could pick up stuff for you while we were gone. If I have to stay awake much longer, I'm going to be crabby tomorrow." He spoke as they drove, the radio turned all the way down. She ignored his ramblings, her red eyes wide and somewhat startled as she watched the trees and buildings fall away. Her hands were firmly grasped around the jacket, keeping it tight to her tiny chest. She yanked on the seatbelt once or twice, but then left it alone seemingly after deciding it wasn't moving. As they pulled into the apartment parking lot, he noted that she seemed to like the car ride. A thought for a future day.

 As he parked and shut off the car, he couldn't help but sigh in relief at the thought of being able to walk in the door and go to bed. The undead in the passenger seat squirmed, a high pitch whining coming from her throat. "C'mon kiddo, it's not that bad of a place. I made it pretty cozy." He climbed out of the car, the same routine as at the center but backwards. Stick close to the car so she wouldn't freak out, open the door, unbuckle her, and haul her into his arms. He didn't quite trust her not to bolt yet, so it was easier to haul her near non-existent weight around.

He shifted her to one hand while he struggled to find the right one, they jangled mockingly. Damn all the keys he had to keep for work. Finally, he found the right one and unlocked the door. 

The kitchen light he had left on was a welcome change from the dim outside environment. She started to wiggle and squirm in his hands, and he quickly dropped down to set her on the ground, nudging the door shut with his foot. She sat there in a heap, and he turned to lock the door. No taking a chance there, she's running off of pure instinct and could take off at any second. Her supernatural nature would make it near impossible to catch her again. 

He ignored her as he walked into the kitchen, taking his wallet and keys out of his pants pockets and set it on the countertop. Almost robotically, he went through the motions of making the coffee pot for the next morning. 

"Hey honey. Let's get my bed set up for you, I'll take the couch. I think you deserve it after-" As he turned around, he paused. Panic filled his chest. She wasn't there. "Kiddo?" He set down the bag of coffee grounds, stepping out into the living room. A quick look around the room yielded no answers, and he picked up his pace to the open bathroom. He yanked the shower curtain across the bar, the rings clanking loudly at him. The shower was empty, and he almost tripped over the rug trying to leave the bathroom in a rush. He scrambled down the hall to his bedroom, eyes quickly bouncing from corner to corner. Finally, a noise gave him pause. That same, high pitched whining. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, feeling as if his chest had gotten lighter. “Honey? Where are you hiding?” Damein took inventory of the room, and finally noticed something off. The slim closet that he hardly ever used was cracked open. He sank to his knees, gently wedging his fingers into the open gap and swinging the door open. Still in the hospital gown and his hoodie, she sat on top of a pile of old sheets that he didn’t even remember having, cross legged and leaning against the wall. “Oh. You wanna stay there tonight?” She didn’t give any answer, her wide eyed stare giving away no indication. “Okay. At least let me get you a pillow. We’re going to get you into actual clothes. Tomorrow.” She tilted her head in response, and Damien idly wondered how much she understood of any of his ramblings. Either way, it seemed to help, so ramble he would. He stood up with a groan, his back feeling the weight of being awake so early and having done this a few times now. From his bed, he took the pillow on the left side, which was significantly more fluffy than the one he used every night. Fully opening the closet door, he left the pillow just outside of it. It was up to her if she wanted it or not. 

And with that, he found his fingers fumbling over his pants button. Finally, he slid the jeans over his hips and untangled the fabric from his feet, letting them drop to the floor as he crawled into bed. He slipped into the bliss of sleep, unaware that shining red eyes watched…

[aurheatum]

@enarmor said

Sain breathes. Air enters Kent's body, smelling of old pine and wax from the door just an inch in front of his nose. The moment he saw who he had inhabited this morning, he embarked on a quest. To say the things my dearest friend could not, to bless him with my confidence. Sain would make a number of changes in Kent's life, and though some--like his refusal to relax--could not be fixed by his hand, he could at least move some compensation the Shield's way.

The things he does for love.

"Lady Rhea?" he shouts, pressing his ear to the wall before delivering a pair of knocks with the back of his knuckle, "I've something rather important to discuss with you! It's, ah, business related!"

That sounds like Kent, right? In any case, he isn't about to take no for an answer--not when things have only just begun. The door flies open, and a rather jovial Kent walks through. With a cough, he simmers himself down to neutral. The door shuts behind him.

"You look--" Gorgeous? Astounding? Divine? All spring to mind, but none are part of Kent's vocabulary. Crimson eyes dart away from the Archbishop a second, falling onto something--anything--to find inspiration for another adjective.

"--Tall."

They land upon one of the windows to her left. It stretches high and thin, bringing to mind tall as Sain observes the light beaming through.

"Ahah, that's to say, quite nice--a perfect couple to the lovely day we're having." A bead of sweat trails down the side of his head. Without a headband to catch it, Sain becomes hyperaware of how wet one's forehead can get when under so much pressure. He wipes, and steps forward--still unused to the way Kent's body handles. He is quick to seat himself.

"Alright. I know you do much for this monastery, so I won't waste any of your time: I do much, too." He gives pause. The gravity of his words is allowed to weigh down the air in the room. As he folds one of his legs over the other, his fingers interlace on top of Rhea's desk. And should she meet him eye-to-eye, she'd find a calm determination worn on his face. One that looks rather good on Kent, like unbrewed water sitting in a pot. Collected and secure, it does not rage, crash, or flow--but there is purpose brewing beneath. Intention can bubble to the surface.

"More than any other professor, if I could be so bold." It's a statement Sain believes with his whole chest. If he earned a piece of gold for every time he had seen Kent in the knights hall when he should have been taking time off, he'd have saved up enough for a fresh silver lance, at Elibean market value. His students rarely have complaints, and his skills as both a knight and commander are real. "I'd go into detail if I must, but I believe the results already speak for themselves--I've become an important asset to you." His eyes shut for another pause, once again giving Rhea the time to ponder every word from his mouth. Look to him again, and she'd find a quaint smile edging up his lips. None of what he says is false. "... In Caelin, we have a saying: 'Feed the fire that warms you.' And I believe I've kept things pretty toasty around here! As such, I'd like a raise. Oh, and perhaps a day off--made mandatory--on the fourteenth of every month! These things... Yes, they would keep my flame alive."

While odd to be back in her office after her, well, she will call it a journey for now until she finds time to create official church doctrine on the subject; suffice to say, there is work to be done where she left it and Rhea shall not be distracted a moment more. Still, when Sir Kent calls out for her she is content to push it aside for a time, especially seeing as the last time she had seen him had been on said "journey." She tells him to come in, straightening a row of documents as she does so; and rises from her seat just as the trusted faculty member enters the chamber. He looks quite lively, she notes - relieved, as she assumed his sudden appearance may have had to do with their shared dream. The door shuts. Kent says nothing, and so Rhea comes around the desk to attend to him for lack of anything else she knows to do; Kent for his part seems to have suddenly found a case of nerves as his eyes dart away from her (different from his usual polite downcast look) to the window and back.

Tall. Hm. She is wearing the crown again she supposes.

"Thank you; I must ask, however, are you quite well?" She asks, not meaning to push the question but once again thankful when the man finds time to sit down as his voice apparently begins to work once more.

It works very well, in fact – though it does occur to wonder to her if he’s breathing while he speaks though once he finally seems to find the subject matter Kent’s confidence speaks for itself; his voice warming to the subject like she has not heard before and the anxiety slipping off him as he looks up at her eyes and posture both spirited.

“A raise…” it takes Rhea a minute. He is already doing both the work of a knight and a professor so a raise of status would mean… a position as bishop? No, as lively as the man seems so suddenly she is almost certain he does not wish for that duty.

“Ah, a raise in your wages,” she says, coming upon it finally; “yes. I will discuss it with Seteth forthwith, for it is true you do the work of many.”

Still… it was all very sudden, but perhaps it was another side effect of the journey. She nods, though looks perplexed at the next request.

“I can look at the documentation but I believe you have at least a week’s worth if not more of paid rest you simply have not taken. If my or another making such a thing mandatory would help you…. then by all means." A pause. Rhea raises her hand to summon her white magic, and realizes that might be overdoing it so she leans over to place a cool hand on the man's forehead instead; he is flushed, as she suspected.

"Perhaps you should lie down now, Sir Kent. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention despite how much it has evidently taken out of you. Do you need help to the infirmary?"

[argentandsablebindersunion]

Making a Text block

Masterlist

Disclaimer: most aspects of this tutorial are either personal preference or the result of a lot of trial and error. This is not the only way to bind a book, and even following this, you will also have to go through a lot of trial and error to figure out what works best for you.

Folding Signatures: First, begin with folding the signatures using a bone folder (or the blunt edge of a knife or ruler). The typeset used here is split into 5 pages per signature. Organise the pages into signatures, making sure the page numbers line up. Place the unfolded signature on a flat surface with the short side against a level surface, i.e. a wall, and fold into an A5 sized booklet.

2. Pressing Signatures & Marking Needle Holes: Next you need to press the signatures to remove air bubbles. If you don't have a book press you can use heavy books, wooden boards and clamps, or a flower press - I use a small flower press from Amazon. Line up the signatures as neatly as possible, and leave in your 'press' for at least 12 hours - some people leave them for 2-3 days. While waiting, you can make the measurements for where you need to make needle holes - this is why you need to line your signatures up neatly, however if this isn't possible, you can mark each signature individually. Measure the first two markings one inch in from the edges on either end of the signatures. Place the next two markings an inch inwards from the previous two, and place the final two markings an inch apart from each other in between the previous two markings. There should be 6 marks in total. Once this is done you can make the holes with an awl, a push pin, or a needle.

3. Sewing the Signatures : For this step you can use pre-waxed thread (this tends to be thicker) or wax your own linen thread (this is what I use), and you can use either a straight or a curved needle. We're going to use a combination of Kettle stitches and French Link stitches. Start at one of the needle holes closest to the edge, sewing from the outside in. Continue this until you get to the last needle hole of Signature 1.

Sew into the first hole and out of the second hole on Signature 2, and before sewing back into hole 3, thread the needle under the long stitch of the signature below. Repeat this with the long stich between holes 4 and 5. This is called a French Link stitch. When coming out of Hole 6, tie a knot with whatever excess thread was left at Hole 1 Sig. 1.

Repeat the stitches used in Sig. 3, but when sewing out of the final hole of Sig. 3, thread your needle from the edge inwards under the stitch holding the previous two signatures together - but do NOT pull it tight yet. This should leave a loop for you to sew through, and then pull tight- this is a Kettle stitch.

Repeat this process of French Link stitches and Kettle stitches until you've sewn all the signatures together. Now at the last needle hole of the last signature, sew 2 or 3 Kettle stitches to create a knot. now leave roughly an inch of excess thread, cutting off the rest. This is now a sewn textblock.

4. Endpapers: This step may seem frivolous, but it's actually quite important as Endpapers are what connect the textblock and the casing - this is also why thick paper or cardstock is recommended, you cannot up printer paper for this. Endpapers can be plain and simple or detailed and decorative, but they will be seen in the finished book so choose wisely! To glue the endpapers to the now sewn textblock, you only need a thin 5mm-wide strip of PVA glue. Place a thick piece of paper or card under the pages the endpapers are being glued to to avoid moisture wrinkling.

5. Gluing it all together: Place the textblock back into the press - again, as neatly as possible - with the sewn spine facing towards you. Apply a thin layer of PVA glue to the spine, and attach headbands to both ends (you can buy these online, make your own with cloth folded over a piece of thick wool, or sew them by hand).

Once this has dried, glue on a spine-length piece of Mull (or cheesecloth), that is wide enough to cover the spine and at least an inch of both the front and back faces of the book, and let it dry.

Next apply and glue the spine stiffener down - a thick piece of card as wide and long as the spine - and then apply another layer of glue on top and let it dry.

Finally, take the textblock out of the press and glue down the sides of the Mull, placing a scrap piece of thick paper between the endpaper to prevent wrinkling. Once this dries, we have our completed textblock, ready for Casing In.

Feel free to ask questions!

~Admin Argent

[dongiovannaswife]

sperare

Masterlist. 

cw: sickness, mentions to meds, pregnancy mentions, mentions to past childhood trauma. 

collab with the lovely @softlimefluff​!! ty for your patience and care, aribaby uwu

Knocking on the studio door, Ari doesn't wait for a response and walks right in, phone clutched tightly in her palm. Rohan sighs in frustration, pulling his pen away from the panel he’s inking and glares over. Frowning, Ari waits by the door, cheeks puffy and eyes red.

 “I hate to barge in, Han, but there’s an emergency.”

Taking his glasses off, Rohan rubs his hands over his face, pushing his headband up.

“What. What’s wrong?”

“The. Twins...” 

Ari grips her phone tight again, sniffing back her runny nose. “They’re starting to go through the stand virus. Lena and Gio asked if Dr. Louis would be willing to come consult, but...” 

Taking a few steps forward, Ari sits on the floor next to her husband, slumping up against his desk and looking up at him. “I think we need to be there. We would want the same thing if…” She looks towards the studio door into the hallway. “When Ellie goes through it too.”

Rohan puts a hand on top of her head, petting gently. “Is it that bad?”

She nods, looking back at him. “They’re feverish. Not waking up much.” Ari pauses, tears welling up. “Lena’s really worried about them. So am I…” Small, warm tears finally fall down her cheeks and Rohan catches one with his finger, rubbing over her cheek. 

“Alright. I’ll check in with Izumi and see if I can get time off. I already have two weeks in advance prepared since I got time off for Ellie’s birth. I can use those, and if GioGio and Lena have a desk I could work there.”

“Can you ask for time off? Please... We can do research there or something, but I think you should leave work at home for a few weeks.”

Rohan balks at first, ready to protest and list all the reasons he could keep working and that it’s important to set a good example, before Ari interrupts his thoughts.

“You rarely ask for it. No one would blame you since it’s an emergency. And I’ll still be getting paid for working with the Foundation. I’m sure Gio will accommodate us too. We haven’t had a vacation for a while.”

Sighing, Rohan nods. “Alright. You win, Ari.” Lifting his arms up in a stretch, Rohan’s stomach peeks out, then disappears back under the fabric. “I’ll get everything settled with the manga then get packing. Any word on tickets?”

“I’ll call the main SPW branch and let them know about the situation. See if I can get permission for leave and tickets for us. I’ll have to make sure our branch has everything set before we leave.”

Rohan chuckles. “I forget how much we’re part of this town until we have to leave…”

Ari smiles back. “You’re right. Easy to take for granted.” Standing, she leans down to steal a kiss and wraps her arms around his neck. “We’ll have to get Ellie ready too. Her first big trip.”

“I didn’t even think of that. We missed the comic convention in France and traveling for Christmas last year… Big girl.”

“At least she has a passport already!”

“She does. We’ll have to make sure she’s dressed comfy for the flight. And bring chimera-san. She cries without him.”

“I’ll make sure, babe. Maybe we should bring our Halloween stuff just in case we stay a while?? When the boys are better all the kids could wear their costumes together.”

Looking at the date on his smart watch, Rohan nodded. “I know Tomoko wanted to take her out with us, but we can always do something when we get back.”

“Right. I’ll get started.” Stealing one more kiss, Ari finds Sunnie’s number on her phone, starting a call to get everything rolling.

***

Golden rays filtering through the window in the hall and reflecting the window's frame in the floor of the twins bedroom, silence and sunset come together. 

The Giovanna household remains quiet, haunted by tension and waves of distortion in the environment —halls that stretch like rubber, doors that double their size, gardens that become mazes— as the first twenty-four hours of stand fever go by, keeping the two little boys in bed. 

Standing from the chair at the other side of the room, Dr. Bocelli Enzo sighs, feeling his bones hurt and his spine scream for rest: still, holding onto his cane, he makes his way over slower than usual, eyes glued to the floor. 

Reaching Jovi's side, his hand reaches out, softly landing on the skin of his forehead. There, the temperature he can feel seems the same as a few hours ago: and pressing his lips, he finally looks up into the monitor, feeling his heart sink inside his chest. 

Reaching out to Dante, he repeats the motion —and after getting the same result, he sighs again, closing his eyes as he speaks out loud, intending to let the boys' parents know of the critical situation. “I'm afraid we haven't had any significant process.”

When silence is all he gets, Bocelli's eyes snap open and his heart races —looking back, the couple remains sitting in the couch: Giorno's arm still behind her shoulders and her head laying against his chest, but now Giorno's head is thrown back against the backrest and Lena's hiding into his chest, both asleep. 

Overlooking the sight, Bocelli presses his lips, turning to one of Type O Negative's nurses. The small green being shrugs but does point back at the monitor. 

Eyes scanning over the vitals displayed there, Bocelli hums after a moment, whispering to himself. “Heart rate normal—” he then turns back to the nurse, “Any signs of organ failure, shock…?”

Forming an 'x' with its little arms, the nurse shakes its head. Seeing this, Bocelli opens his mouth to reply when someone stands by the door. 

“Dr. Bocelli, Arroyo from the SPW Guadalajara branch sent someone.” The gunslinger Guido Mista shifts his weight from one foot to another, sealing his mouth with a gesture once he realizes of the sleeping couple. With big eyes, he stands there, watching Bocelli while he thinks, nodding after a moment. 

“Lena asked for support. Where are they?” 

“Uhm,” scratching the back of his head, Mista smiles nervously. “Akashi's a bit paranoid, he doesn't want to let them in unless the bosses or you are there.” 

A grunt resounds through the silence. Shifting, Giorno's neck cracks right as he straightens his position, moving from under Lena's body and, after he's sure she's comfortable, he rises to his full height, turning to Mista. 

“Let’s go.” 

Nodding, Mista turns around, waiting for him in the hall. Coming to a stop beside him, Giorno reaches out, setting his hand on Bocelli's shoulder. “She asked for someone to help you with this. We know you need rest, so… I'll make sure to bring them over as soon as possible.” 

Bocelli smiles —a smile so soft and tired it might be his soul the one smiling at Giorno. His face, though full of wrinkles and liver spots, keeps that peaceful aura Bocelli Enzo carries with himself. “Don't worry, son.” 

Giorno's lips curl up into a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes nor makes his dimples stand out.

Leaving the room, he trails behind Mista, who keeps his guard up as they walk downstairs and cross the main garden that leads to the main doors —huge and imposing, the two doors remain closed before the SPW truck outside. There, two men wait, furrowed eyebrows and confused looks thrown his way. 

Stopping beside Akashi, and knowing this is the Speedwagon Foundation waiting to be let in, Giorno looks back at the pink haired man, eyes hard and cold as stone —a silent question, demanding and equally annoyed.  

Akashi looks back, a grin spreading through his features. Shrugging, the hand that had been resting against his katana raises up to show the keys, “I get it, I get it, let them in.” 

Walking forward, Akashi fiddles with the keys for a moment —then, as he holds one of the doors open, Dr. Joshua López comes in, approaching Giorno. 

“Good evening, Don Giovanna. Director Arroyo sent me here to help with your sons' case. I was not informed of all the details, but I'm grateful for your trust.” offering a handshake, Dr. López smiles, all formality and politics —the trembling of his hand doesn't go unnoticed by Giorno, who takes his hand in a firm handshake. 

“Yes, Dr. Bocelli will give you the details.” 

Nodding, Giorno looks back at Mista. “Take Dr. López there,” then, turning to the SPW foundation worker, Giorno motions forward. “Need a break?” 

The man shakes his head, retrieving the truck keys from his cargo pants, “I’m okay. I was ordered to wait until he was allowed to come in.” 

Waiting until the engine starts and the truck leaves, Giorno gestures back at Akashi. As the swordsman closes the doors and goes back to his position Giorno turns around, looking back over his shoulder: “Don't make me come here again. You know your orders. Next time someone comes in, ask Fugo. He's in charge for a reason.” 

Coming back into the mansion followed by Westwood, Giorno's thoughts drift to the report about Dr. López: born in Mexico City, he completed his medical degree in the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, joining the SPW Foundation right after. His motives were still a mystery, but according to Fugo, he had a vast experience. 

If his wife trusted Director Arroyo and Fugo had already confirmed he could be helpful, then all Giorno could do was trust and hope. 

***

The sun dies in the horizon, bringing the moon and the stars along —as the dark skies settle down for the night, Giorno stands up from the couch, glance lost somewhere in the garden outside. 

Setting his eyes on Akashi and Abel as they keep their positions by the front doors, the Don doesn't look back: only a whisper leaves his lips. “Lena, you should go to bed. It's getting late.” 

Looking back, Lena shakes her head softly even if Giorno's not looking, eyes closing slowly, fighting back the sleep —running a hand through Jovi's hair, she finally mumbles back. “I can't go to sleep knowing they're… Like this.” 

Watching the muscles of his back tense upon her words, she hums, slowly standing up and walking up to him, her arms slide around his middle. As she leans her head between his shoulder blades and presses a kiss there, Giorno relaxes, hands coming to rest on his wife's arms. 

“I know.” he whispers, “But… I won't move from this room. I will make sure they're safe.” 

She steps back and he sighs upon the loss of her warmth —circling him, Lena stops before her husband, soft eyes and pink cheeks. “I know," she quotes him, smiling oh so exhausted, “I know you are the type of man to set the world on fire for us. But… I'm just so worried.” 

Reaching a hand out, his palm cups her jaw, letting his thumb rub over the tattoo on her neck, “They will make it, love. They need time, like we all do.” 

Leaning into his touch, she twists her head to kiss his palm, watching in delight how his eyes light up. “Just like you need time to rest.” 

“Well,” he smiles, a smile so small that doesn't light up his whole face, but does show the tiniest of peace. “You're the one pregnant. You need the sleep more than I do.” 

Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, she finally gives in: “Alright, but promise you will take a nap in the morning.” 

Nodding, Giorno chuckles, soft and deep —laced with hope. Hope for a better morning where the sun shines and his sons start running around the house again, painting the walls and doodling on his books. 

“Of course, Lena.” 

Leaning down to receive her kiss, he sighs against her lips, letting her wrap him up in her arms and sway him from side to side. When she leaves and he sits in the bed, his hand reaches out to Dante, letting his palm cup the infant's face. 

The door opens —and the steps that resound through the silent and dark room make him look back, tense and ready to move. 

“Uhm, sorry Don Giovanna. I need to take their vitals.” Standing by the door, clutching his aneroid sphygmomanometer and stethoscope, Dr. López gulps down forcefully. 

Nodding, Giorno stands up, crossing his arms under his chest. As Dr. López comes in, he watches over his movements —the trembling of his hands does not go unnoticed by him: in the end, he knows why. Víctor Arroyo had met Lena back when she was still a student: back then, the rumors of their relationship had spread like a wildfire. 

He could assume Arroyo had warned Dr. López about him and, counting down Akashi's behavior, the poor man must be scared. 

Leaning against the wall by the window, Giorno overlooks the room, letting his words flow out slowly and calmly. “Whatever Arroyo said back there, will not happen, Dr. López.” 

The man tenses, and through rushed handwriting, he finishes his notes turning to him with big eyes and his glasses sliding down his nose. “I'm sorry, Don Giovanna. I was, uh, I… Guess I was jumping to conclusions.”

Humming, he barely smirks, “Let me guess, stereotypes?” 

Dr. López chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess.” 

Nodding, Giorno looks aside, hearing someone's footsteps down the hall. “That's what I thought.” 

The door opens and Agosto 'Westwood' Carvelli comes in, holding two cups of coffee. Giving a nod to Dr. López as he leaves, Hysteria's user comes in, swiftly closing the door with his foot. “Lena said you're not sleeping, so… Here,” passing one cup, Westwood sits down. “I'm keeping you company.” 

Taking the cup from him, Giorno chuckles, shaking his head: “Did she ask you for this?” 

Nodding, West takes his mask off, rubbing his temples. “She's worried about you and the boys, you know?” 

Taking a sip, Giorno nods. Feeling the warm liquid down his throat. “I know. But I can't let her stay here in her state.” 

Chuckling, Westwood leans back against the couch. “Well, love's weird.” 

“You're the one cosplaying Kato on a daily basis.” raising his cup, Giorno takes another swing of his coffee, watching in delight Westwood's frown, followed by: 

“God, I promised her I would stay the night here. With you.” 

Shrugging, Giorno grins. “Others would kill to be in your position, Carvelli.” 

“I will pretend I didn't hear that, Giovanna.” 

After a moment of silence, Giorno's smile vanishes —and Westwood, sensing his worry and sadness, takes a sip from his coffee, runs his tongue over his lips and finally, he mumbles: “Every member of the Joestar family I've met so far has proven their strength,” Giorno looks back, and Westwood keeps going, confident. 

“Dante and Jovi will make it, Gio. They're your sons, after all.” 

October 13, 7:37 AM.

 “Giogio,” Guido Mista calls as he opens the door, head poking from the small gape. “The Kishibes are here.” 

Blinking slowly, Giorno looks back —bloodshot and dark circles under his eyes, furrowed eyebrows and dry lips— and with a small nod, he seems to take a little bit longer to process Mista's words before nodding and, standing up, he stands there, squeezing his eyes shut for a second when dizziness kicks in; then, he looks back, a hand rubbing at his temple, voice low and awfully tired. “Give me five and I'll be there.” 

Mista nods, shutting the door again, leaving the Don and Westwood alone for the time being. Walking back downstairs, patterns of light dance on the staircase as sunlight glimmers through the stained glass rose window above the front door. Mista joins Fugo and Akashi at the front entrance, welcoming the Kishibe family in and letting them know Giorno will be there presently.

Bundled up for the weather, Ellie tosses her cat-shaped beanie onto the ground, giggling. Rohan sighs, picking it up and keeping it in his arms, giving her a little frown. “Eliana, we’re guests. We can’t throw our clothes on the ground. I’m going to keep this…”

Wrinkling up her face, she lets out a tiny cry, sniffling as Ari sets her down on the ground and kneels down to talk. “I know it’s a little scary being in a new place, but it’ll be okay. You’re going to see Auntie Lena and you did so well on the long plane ride…”

Ellie keeps sniffling, letting out big crocodile tears and quiet sobs. “Ahhh, sweetheart, it’s been a big day… I know you’re hungry. I know” Ari hugs her close, standing again and rocking her gently, finally noticing Giorno at the top of the stairs.

Tucking Ellie’s hat into his pocket, Rohan walks to meet the Don, greeting him with a firm handshake and a hug. Both of them have dark circles under their eyes, Giorno’s clearly more noticeable. 

“You look like crap, Giovanna.”

“Nice to see you too, Kishibe.”

They both laugh warmly, walking over to Ari and Ellie. Having calmed a bit, Ellie peeks up at Giogio, then hides into Ari’s shoulder, shy.

“And how is my favorite girl, hmmm?? Other than Lena, of course~”

Ari laughs, patting her back gently. “She’s tired from a long flight or she would be asking everyone to pick her up. It’s good to see you again, Giogio. Is Lena around?”

“Yes, of course, she went to bed last night while I watched the boys, so she is likely getting ready. Westwood is still up there keeping watch.”

Fugo interjects, looking outside. “Can we get your luggage? Your rooms are already prepared. Is Dr. Louis with you?”

“She needed a bit more time to gather supplies for the twins, but she should be here soon.”

“Very well. Akashi? With me.” The two exit to the car, Mista keeping watch over the entrance as they work.

“Ah, Ellie fell asleep again…” Ari glances over at Rohan, eyes soft and tired. “She needs to eat, but I know she didn’t sleep very much on the flight.”

Walking over, Rohan kisses Ellie on the head, putting his hand over Ari’s. “I’m sure the Giovannas will let us clean up and rest a little before we help keep watch.”

“Oh, that’s not neces–” Giorno starts, but gets interrupted.

“We’re here.” Rohan says firmly. “Ari reminded me… We would want the same if. Or when Ellie gets sick. We’re here as your support.”

The Don’s shoulders finally relax, letting out a deep sigh. “I am grateful. Other than my team, you know there’s no one we trust more with our family.”

Thinking back to their conflict earlier in the year, Rohan knows without a doubt that his words are sincere. “I do know… Now. Breakfast? Then maybe a nap for you and Ellie.”

Gesturing vaguely, Gio shakes his head, blinking slowly. “Sorry, I'm not hungry.” 

Someone else's voice comes from the top of the stairs, “Oh no, mister. You are having breakfast.”  

Turning around, Gio chuckles, seeing his wife there. Smiling softly, she walks down slowly —her dress follows her movement, flowing along until she stops by the end of the staircase, taking Giorno's hand to finally reunite with her friends.

There, Lena's gaze lands on Ari, eyes softening as she smiles, approaching her friend. 

”Ariiii,” wrapping her arms around Ari, she's careful with the way she does so, pulling back after a few seconds. 

Glancing down at Ellie, Lena hums, grinning now. “Hi, Ellie,” and looking back, she nods, “She's so pretty, just like her mom~” Turning to Han, she reaches out, pulling him in for a short, friendly hug. 

Now, standing before the couple, Lena nods, hands resting around the baby bump. “Thank you for being here, it means a lot.” 

“I said this before,” Rohan nods in Giorno's direction, then looks back at Lena. “But we would want the same when the time comes… For Ellie.” 

“We'll be there.” with a firm nod, Lena gestures aside in the kitchen's direction. “Breakfast should be ready, please make yourself at home.” 

“Thank you.” Rohan bows while Ari nods, both close their eyes in a signal of gratitude.

As they walk into the kitchen, followed by Giorno and Lena, the table lays ready, displaying a variety of ricotta pancakes, cannoli, brioche, fruit and coffee. 

The chef nods, giving one last salute before he leaves, walking past Giorno with a quiet nod —which Giorno replies with a simple “Thank you, Giuseppe.”

By the time Giuseppe has left and Ariel and Rohan sit by the table, Giorno turns back to them, lending a hand to help Lena sit down. “We usually cook breakfast ourselves, but… As you can see, food hasn't been our priority.” 

“It’s alright, we understand… Can I take Ellie to the bathroom first?”

“Do you remember where it is from the party?”

She smiles, nodding. “Yes. We’ll be right back.”

Finding the espresso machine on the counter, Rohan gestures to it, glancing over at Gio. “Care to show me how it works, Giovanna?~”

“My pleasure~” 

Lena watches as the boys use the machine, chatting idly, reminding her of better days. 

If only this visit had come under better circumstances… 

She reaches a hand to her stomach, rubbing gently to calm herself and gasping as she feels a faint kick meet where her hand is pressing. It’s earlier than with the twins, but exactly the same feeling. 

“Giobaby.”

The Don glances over his shoulder at his wife. “Hm?”

“She’s moving.”

His tired eyes light up instantly and he’s already walking over, leaving Rohan to customize his coffee how he likes. Kneeling down, the Don lays his palm on the bump, resting his head on his wife’s arm.

Rohan notes the use of she for the little one, but keeps to himself, turning to let the Giovanna’s have their private moment. In a second, Ari pops around the corner with a less-bundled up Ellie, who is finally walking by herself now that she’s more awake.

“Papa!” Running forward, Ellie grabs onto his leg, holding tight and hiding her face into the fabric of his pants. He chuckles, leaning down to scoop her up and cover her small round face with kisses, getting a bevy of giggles from her as she holds her tiny palms up to his face. “Papaaaa!!! Noooooo!!!” 

He grins, giving her one last smooch on the cheek and turns back to the coffee. “Ari, do you want some? Gio taught me how to work the machine.”

“Yes, please.” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she turns to Lena, leaving Ellie content in Rohan’s arms. Seeing Giorno kneeling next to Helena, Ari pauses, her mouth falling open. 

“Is it…?”

Lena nods. “She’s kicking around. First time we could feel her.”

“IT’S A GIRL???”

Grinning, Lena nods. “We were going to tell you soon, but this is as good a time as any.”

“Ahhhh!!!!” Putting her hands up to her face, Ari’s eyes sparkle, her whole face lighting up. “So exciting!! Congrats!!”

Cheeks warming up, Lena nods, laughing quietly. “Thank you, Ari.”

Standing up, Giorno turns to Ellie, gesturing at her to get her attention. “Guess what, Ellie? You'll have a friend soon.” 

Tilting her face to the side, Ellie looks back at her dad, then back at Gio. The Don chuckles, adding: 

“Her name will be Esmeralda, Ellie.”  

“Oh?” Setting his cup on the table, Rohan sits down with Ellie in his arms, smiling as Ari sits beside him. “Esmeralda…?”

Lena hums, “It means emerald in Spanish and Portuguese, it comes from a Greek word.” feeling her cheeks warm up further, she grins, barely hiding her flushed expression behind her hand, “I've always liked that name so, here we are.” 

Sitting beside his wife, Giorno hums, extending a hand out to rub her back as Ari speaks up.

“Esme. It's such a beautiful name.” Looking back at Ellie and Rohan, she laughs softly. “I can definitely see the girls being best friends.” 

“Right.” Giorno reaches out to his cup, raising it to his lips to take a sip from his coffee and hiding a smile. ”Please make yourself at home, eat all you want.” 

Taking a cannoli, Lena pauses midway, looking back at her friends with kind, soft eyes. “Thank you for being here, really.” 

Reaching out, Ari sets her hand on top of Lena's free hand, squeezing gently. “It's okay, Lena. Really. We wanted to be here. For you. For everyone.” 

Tears welling up in her eyes, Lena chuckles, nodding. “I mean, yeah… But you left your home,” she looks back at Rohan, blinking and finally letting a single tear stream down her face. “Your work and life for us. I'm just…” setting the cannoli down, she reaches up to wipe away her tears, leaving back an angry trail over her skin. 

“I'm really grateful for your support.”

Eyes softening, Rohan nods, deciding that maybe, accepting her words will make her feel better: with a silent hum and a bow, Rohan looks over at his wife, who seems to think the same. Imitating her husband, Ari bows, giving one last smile and reaching for a plate of pancakes to cut up for Ellie.

Breakfast goes by through silence and a few moments of conversation —catching up on Ellie's milestones, Rohan's work, Ariel's work at the Foundation, Giorno's law firm and Helena's foundation: by the end, Ari stands up with Ellie asleep in her arms, taking her to their bedroom. 

Rohan stays back, finishing his coffee, before Westwood guides him to the twins' room (not without turning around and reminding Giorno to take a nap with the most dangerous expression he can put on –the gesture makes Giorno laugh wholeheartedly for the first time in hours, though it hides an ounce of pain).

As Rohan leaves and Giorno's laughter fades into silence, Lena looks through the window, sensing something, the type of omen that makes her stomach turn with excitement and her heart to fill with joy and hope for a new day.

But the second Giorno calls for her, it all blends back to confusion and worry.

“Lena.” 

Turning to face him, her breath gets caught in her windpipe upon the realization of his true state: from his bloodshot eyes, dry lips, disheveled hair, his tie hanging around his neck undone and his shirt tucked out his pants to the absolute and raw desperation behind his eyes, barely held back by his will. 

How —when— did it end up like this? A few seconds ago he was laughing and joking with Rohan. And now his mood had shifted instantly.

His question cuts off the silence. “Do you think… Do you think this is a punishment?” 

Lena blinks once, twice, three times in a row before a quiet whisper leaves her lips. “What?” 

Giorno leans back against the kitchen island, water bottle tightly held in his massive hand: rephrasing his question. “Like, karma. Is this some kind of karma? For what we did to the Dallas Board? Have we brought pain upon Dan and JoJo just for the sake of my pride and ego?” 

Slowly standing up and walking around the island, Lena gets closer, standing on her tiptoes to reach a hand out to him. When he leans into her touch, lip trembling and green eyes clouded by pain, she mumbles out: “Baby, no. This is not about karma or… Divine retribution.” Affirming her hold on his face, she presses herself against him, trying to ground him somehow, anyhow —any possible way. 

Slowly, she speaks up, giving him time to process her words, “We're born stand users. Our genes carry the virus. This is just biology; statistics.” 

A tear rolls down his cheek, “But,” a sigh, broken and tired, eyes closed. “I can't stand seeing them in pain.” Opening his eyes, Lena's lips tremble, feeling her own eyes start to sting. “If I could I would swipe places —If I could endure their pain I would.” 

Voice tiny, Lena shakes her head, “We can't. No matter how much we try, Giogio —we can't do that. We can only wait.” 

“Wait and bleed,” a chuckle escapes him, both deep and broken as his arms circle her. Leaning his chin into the top of her head, Giorno mumbles. “You're right.” 

Rubbing over his back, Lena twists her head to lay a kiss against the place his heart beats, “Get a nap, Giobaby. You need it.”

Humming, his arms let go slowly, reluctantly, reaching out to wipe his tears. “If something happens, wake me up.” 

“I will. Rest, honey.” 

Tilting her face up with a finger on her chin, Giorno mumbles, tired. “I'm serious, Helena. We're together on this, hm? Wake me up if something happens.” 

Nodding, she sets her hands on his arm, squeezing back as her eyes bore into his, “I will.” 

Leaning down without letting go of her face, Giorno presses his lips against the tip of her nose, her cheeks, forehead and lastly, lips, sealing his promise with the quietest of signs: a stare, hopeful and full of trust on his wife.

Staring back, Lena's lips curl up into a smile after a moment, relaxed and calmer now: “Goodnight, Giogio.” 

Giorno chuckles, shaking his head as he leaves the kitchen, turning around at the last moment to blow her a kiss —one she catches and keeps close to her heart. 

Standing alone in the middle of the kitchen, Lena sighs, dropping her hand to rest on her stomach. 

“M'Lady,” Abel Agreste clears his throat as his stand, Blinding lights, allows him to materialize by Lena's side, earning a gasp from her and making him chuckle, nervous.

“Sorry, Donna. Didn't know you were having a moment.” 

Rubbing the back of his head, Rome's Capo gestures forward, “Dr. Rebecca Louis is here. Akashi brought her here without incidents.”

Sighing, Lena nods, “First off: don't do that again. Second: don't scare me like that. Third: why did you let Akashi do that?” 

“Eh,” Abel scratches the back of his head, looking up into the ceiling. “He was bored.” 

“He's always bored.” 

Sighing, Abel drops his hands at each side of his body, “I mean, yeah, but I wanted to make sure our surroundings were truly safe. Their stands are messing up with the systems, Fugo couldn't access the cameras for a while.” 

Pressing her lips into a tight line, Lena sighs. “I'll talk to Fugo later. Where is Dr. Louis?” 

“In the living room.” Abel gestures forward, intending to let her walk before him.  

***

Coming into the twins' room, Giorno stops in the doorway, pausing to feel the soft, warm and smooth sensation of Ares' tail as the cat walks between his legs and into the boys' room. 

“Ares.” He calls in a whisper, leaning down to pick him up and pointing a finger at the twins, “They can't play with you right now, hm? But there,” he then points at Rohan, who had been sitting in silence watching over the interaction. “There 's Rohan-sensei, hm? You might want to give him ideas for his manga.” 

Rohan chuckles, shaking his head —raising a hand to comb his hair and fix his headband, his voice comes out tired, but equally enthusiastic: “An enemy with cat-like abilities?” Taking a close look, he hums, noticing how much Ares has grown both according to his age and breed, “And maybe a giant.” 

“See? Told you.” Coming into the room, Giorno smiles and sets Ares down, letting him climb on Jovi's bed — and, trying to keep his eyes open forcefully, he takes a seat on the little one's bed, leaning to press a soft kiss to his forehead, mumbling a few words Rohan can't figure out.

Then, Gio repeats the motion with Dante, mumbling the same words: by the end when he's standing in the middle of the room he looks back and straight into Rohan's eyes. 

“Thank you, Han.” 

“No need to thank me. Get some rest.”

“Yes, yes, everyone’s telling me that.”

“Then I won’t say it again… But.” Rohan looks up at the twins, looking at their feverish expressions and exhausted faces. “Do I have your permission to use Heaven’s Door on the twins if necessary? I know Dr. Louis will be here soon. If I can help with any diagnostic work, I want to.”

“Just don’t write anything in them without both me and Lena here, Kishibe. I trust you, but I don’t want you making any rash decisions that will affect them permanently.”

“You have my word, Giovanna. Now, sleep. You’re going to fall over soon if you don’t rest.”

Walking to the doorway, he muttered something like “going, going, I’m going,” leaving Rohan and Ares behind with the boys.

***

“Mrs. Giovanna, it’s a pleasure.” Dr. Louis removes her glove, extending a warm hand in greeting. Helena grasps it firmly, giving her a welcoming smile. 

“We’re glad you’ve made it here safely. May I take you upstairs to see Dante and Jovi?.”

She nods, gesturing to the packages in Mista’s arms. “Yes, of course. I made a supply run when I got here, so we should have what’s necessary to begin treatment of the stand fever.”

“Walk with me.” Lena heads for the stairs, chatting as they make their way up. “I’ve heard your specialty is stands, children of stand users, and the stand fever?”

“That’s right. I used to be a part of the main Dallas SPW branch… I had seen too many unexplained things in my life–spirits, ghosts, call it what you like. But when I was the victim of a stand attack, representatives from the Speedwagon Foundation had to step in. That’s when I learned all about the world of stand users.”

Intrigued, Lena listens carefully, walking down the hallway. 

“I had no idea what that meant at first, or that you could be born with one… I had a daughter at 18. Single mom, already a year into pre-med, but I was always ahead of the curve when it came to academics. Turns out it was my stand helping. I don’t have a manifested form for mine, but I’m still a stand user. And that transferred down into my daughter as well…”

Waiting outside the door, they stop to finish the story. 

“Did she go through the stand fever?”

Dr. Louis nods, “I was already in residency when it happened. The Foundation had taken me under their wing as a stand user and helped fund my education… I had to take a leave of absence to help care for Rosie, but they continued supporting me. Back in undergrad, I had specialized in biochemistry and had always kept up to date with new research. My special interest, I suppose. So when the Foundation told me that they thought it was the result of her stand awakening, I partnered with their research team to find out what cells activated during the process and how to make that transition slower…”

Lena’s eyebrows raise, hopeful. 

“We were able to slow the process and make it more manageable for her body. Her stand is similar to mine, in that it doesn’t have a physical form, but that’s often easier on her… I’m rambling, forgive me.”

“Not at all.” Lena smiles, glad for the companionship of another stand user parent. “We would do anything for our children.”

Dr. Louis smiles in return, taking a deep breath. “We’ve been keeping an eye on Ellie in Morioh. When the new position there opened up with the research opportunity of two arrow user parents, I couldn’t resist… It’s such an unexplored field. Being a pioneer into new scientific discoveries is something everyone in the medical field dreams of.”

“I agree.” Lena reaches for her hand, squeezing it in affirmation. “My background is medical, so I understand the feeling.”

“Is there anyone else responsible for their medical care already here?”

“Yes, Dr. Enzo Boccelli is here, part of our Naples branch with his stand Type O Negative. You’ll meet them soon. We also have a representative here from the SPW Guadalajara branch, Dr. Joshua López. My husband, Giorno, is taking a nap, as he was up all night and about to pass out. Kishibe-sensei should be in the room now as well. Our guards Mista, Fugo, Abel, and Akashi will all be around in shifts, should you need anything.”

“I’m Mista.” The voice from behind them pipes up. “And while I’m riveted by your story, these boxes are heavy. Can I put them in the room, boss?”

“Ah, yes. Our apologies. Go ahead.”

Kicking his foot on the door to knock, Mista waits for the door to open, a surprised Rohan staring out. 

“‘Scuse me Kishibe, we got some supplies.” 

Rohan nods and walks to the windows, watching things unfold quietly as Lena and Dr. Louis enter the room as well. 

Setting the boxes down by the desk beside Jovi's bed, Mista groans upon the sound of his bones cracking —rolling his shoulders, the gunslinger excuses himself quietly, leaving the room with a faint, pained look at the twins. 

“Dr. López?” Lena calls, noticing the lights from the bathroom turn off and the door slowly opening: there stands Dr. López, rubbing his temples and fixing his glasses but quickly nodding and composing himself once he notices the Donna there.

“Excuse me, I needed to freshen up.” 

With a small nod, Lena smiles, brushing it off with her hand.  “Dr. Louis from the Morioh branch will be helping —maybe you both can set shifts and take breaks? There's a room for each of you.”

Blinking, Dr. López looks aside, quickly finding Dr. Louis by Lena's side, standing there with the same smile he's known for years now. Slowly, his lips curl up until he's grinning, bright eyes and all. “Becca? How long has it been?” 

“A year, maybe? Last time we saw each other was back at that convention.” Stepping forward, Dr. Louis gives him a small, welcoming hug, pulling away from the embrace then looking towards the boys. “Care to update me with everything you know, Josh?”

He smiles slightly, grabbing up a notebook from nearby. “I’ve been recording symptoms and side effects of the stand virus as they occur, trading off with Doctor Boccelli in our observations.” Flipping through the pages, he reads off different entries to her, “We've been monitoring the fever without changes,” Josh pauses, taking a look at Rebecca: “We haven't been able to make it decrease from 102°F.” with a sigh and pushing his glasses up his nose, he goes back to his notes, “There are no signs of shock or organ failure, we've been monitoring blood pressure, diuresis, shock signals and… we were thinking of running some tests, to make sure infections aren't making their way into their systems.” 

Dr. Louis nods, thinking of the information received —and taking a look at the twins, her brow furrows, noting their pained expressions. Though the picture brings back memories of her own daughter, she still hums, turning to ask; “What treatments have you administered so far?” 

Putting the notebook aside, Dr. López looks back at the boys. “Acetaminophen, we've been giving them doses every six hours. Nutrition has been given by Type O Negative, Dr. Bocelli's stand.” 

“I see..” Rebecca steps back, turning around to take a look inside of the top box in the desk.  “Then we need to make sure infections and bacteria aren't making it harder. We should also consider swapping over to ibuprofen and giving them extra doses of vitamins and minerals.”

Dr. Louis holds up IV bags of specially mixed medications, the ones she had acquired just before her arrival. “The stand virus doesn’t respond to usual medications –it’s literally changing and activating their DNA, enabling the genes that create Stands. It’s too late to slow the process down, but we can help them fight. We have to monitor them until it reaches its end point and give them enough bodily resources to draw on to complete the transformation. Our priority is the protection of organs and vital functions.” 

Dr. López steps up, holding one of the bags in his hand. “Hopefully that will happen soon, the environment has been shifting a lot.” 

Rebecca stops, looks back and blinks twice in confusion. “Shifting? What do you mean?” she turns to Lena, who's now sitting by Dante's bed. “How long has this been happening, Mrs. Giovanna?” 

Looking back, Lena presses her lips together, thinking of her response for a minute: “Around an hour after it started. When it happens, clocks stop or your environment morphs. It's like your perception is getting twisted for a second, and then goes back. It's pretty, well, weird and extremely powerful: it made two grown men kneel and gasp for air.”

Rohan stands up, eyes the size of dinner plates —amazed and horrified at once, but mostly curious. “...Who?” 

Lena looks back, lips tightly pressed into a line for a moment before her lips part and her reply comes out in a whisper. “Gio and West.” 

Gasping, Rohan turns to look at the boys, thinking back to the prophecy: cautious, he eyes Lena through the corner of his eye. “Does Dr. Louis know about that, Helena?” 

Closing her eyes and shaking her head softly, Lena turns back to Rebecca, gesturing her over and out of the room. As they stand back in the hall, the Donna guides her towards Giorno’s studio. 

Letting Dr. Louis first, Lena comes in after, letting the door open for Westwood to stand under the doorway. “Excuse me, Dr. Louis. I forgot about that. Please have a seat.” 

Doing as she was told, Dr. Louis sits down before the desk, eyebrow raised in both confusion and wonder. “What’s the matter, Donna?” 

Leaning both hands against the cool wood, Lena sighs, taking a deep breath before she starts. “Did you read the report on the first soul extraction, Dr. Louis?” 

 Dr. Rebecca Louis nods. 

“Then you might already know what happened. My stand extracted the patient’s soul, his stand, technically. The source of his sickness was his stand, which was actively attacking its own user.” 

“You mean Chrono Trigger.” 

“Exactly,” pulling her phone out, Lena keeps talking while she seems to look for something in the device. “Chrono is under my command. It gave us a prophecy back then. About the twins and this exact moment.” Sliding her phone across the table and before Dr. Louis, Lena’s eyes hold a strange haze, one between worry and calm. 

Taking the phone from her, Rebecca takes her time reading over it —and when she’s done and her eyebrows arch, amazement, horror, and wonder blend back into a second glance, then a third and a fourth: there she looks back, big eyes full of questions: “Mrs. Giovanna, do you realize the real meaning behind this?” 

“Their stands are far too powerful, yes.” 

“I mean,” giving the phone back, Dr. Louis looks aside, as if trying to see through the walls and into the twins’ room. “The magnitude of their strength affects the stand awakening process. The virus… It must be aggressive. If that’s what their powers will be then…”

She takes a moment to compose her thoughts, silently musing over everything, then replies again. “We haven't had cases like these before, at least not documented: you’re both born stand users with requiem stands. Yours came after, but Don Giovanna has had his for a while now, which adds to their predisposition for strong stands… The cellular mutation they’re going through is taking a toll on their bodies because it’s such a sweeping alteration of the genetic structure. We have no other explanation.” 

“Right.” Sighing, Lena rubs her temples, letting her phone aside. “I know this should take two or three days, but… At the moment, I can’t imagine it will ever end.” 

Eyes softening, Dr. Louis reaches out, laying a warm palm over Lena’s cold hand. “I understand, Helena. No mother wants to see their child hurt. Now that I’m here, I’ll make sure to provide the best care possible.” 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Westwood speaks up, slow but calm. “Donna, Dr. Bocelli is here.”

Looking up from the desk and back at the door where Westwood stands, Lena nods. “Let him in, Dr. Louis needs Dan and Jojo’s patient history.” 

Standing aside to let him in, Westwood waits until Dr. Bocelli walks in and sits by Dr. Louis’ side, setting his cane between his legs so he can offer a handshake. 

“Good morning, Dr. Louis. It’s a pleasure.” 

Taking his hand, Dr. Louis smiles gently, “I’m glad to finally meet you, Dr. Bocelli. Your paper on the stand fever was truly amazing.” 

“Oh, thank you. May I give you the details?” 

Standing up and taking her phone, she makes her way to the door, stopping by Westwood’s side and turning to them, adding: “I’ll let you have your meeting, okay? I need to see how everything is going in our surroundings.”

“Of course, Lena.” Dr. Bocelli nods, a warm smile her way. “Don’t tire yourself out, okay?” 

She hums and, as she walks down the hall, Westwood gestures at Akashi, who’s quick to follow her. 

***

Pannacotta Fugo has been awake longer than this. For him and his insomnia, more than twenty four hours up is not a big issue. 

But this time is different. The twins don’t show signs of recovery, their parents are too worried to care for their own needs: he’s used to seeing them strong and imposing, nothing has ever had this effect on them before. 

Leaning back against his chair, a sigh passes his lips right as his next thought crosses his mind and his eyes scan over the security cameras, watching Abel and Paolo take turns to have breakfast.

Giorno and Helena are strong. Together they’re undefeatable. But the twins are their kids and everything that happens to them will always worry and stop their whole world, because that’s how parents are supposed to feel. Just because his parents didn’t, doesnt mean others’ parents can't or don’t feel that way. 

Parents, what had happened to his? 

Were they still alive, wealthy and equally judgmental? 

What about his butler, the one who used to bring him snacks during his late night study sessions? Had anything changed or was it still a broken and empty home? Were the halls of that house haunted by his suffering? Had they moved out after that incident…?

The truth was he didn’t miss them —his father did not deserve to be called that, and his mother was not someone who should be missed in the first place. After all, their treatment had killed his ambitions and passions for years until he settled down with the new Passione… And only there, under Giorno’s command, had things started to change for him. His will to live instead of just surviving had emerged finally in the shape of his passion for science and occultism, something he refused to let go, holding onto it through his toughest challenges.

The door opens and he, startled, almost knocks over his coffee cup. Lena’s voice brings him out of his daydream when she calls out to him, gently, like she always does: a gentle soul. “Good morning, Panni. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Lena.” Standing up, he quickly offers his seat to her, insisting until she gives in. Only there he rubs the back of his neck, holding his coffee mug with the other. “I’ve had coffee. I’m not, uh, hungry.” 

Turning around, Lena smiles, revealing the cannoli wrapped up in a napkin that she holds carefully, almost like she’s afraid of dropping it. “I thought so. Please have this, and make sure you eat something later.” 

With a nod, he takes the pastry, sitting on the couch at the other side of the desk, pondering on his question for a while —from time to time, his eyes fall on the Donna, who’s busy looking at the different cameras displayed around the mansion. 

His voice surprises him when it comes out, taking him off guard. “Helena.” 

She hums, giving him a short, curious look. 

Clearing his throat, Fugo asks: “I…” He hesitates, swallowing hard, then tries again. “Will they be okay?” 

Her lips seal into a line: looking around his dark office, the Donna thinks about his question for a while, only stopping when the room around them becomes bigger: the walls grow like trees in a haunted forest and the computers are suddenly tiny little objects in the desk: the distortion lasts a second before it goes back with a thump. 

Lena then looks back at him, a smile grazing her lips. “I think so. I want to believe they will make it.” She looks back at the cameras, watching Abel and Paolo freak out after switching places during the distortion. 

“It’s just that you and Giogio are always so calm and collected… I think this is the first time I’ve seen you two so worried. Not even back when you took over the Dallas Board.” 

“That was a different situation, yes. We never thought this would happen so soon.” 

Fugo hums, looking at the monitor where the boys lie sleeping, faces feverish, but hands reaching towards each other, drawn subconsciously together even now… Throwing the napkin into the trashcan and taking a bite from the cannoli, he listens to Lena while she walks out. “Even so… I can assure you, Panni, the sun will shine on us again.” 

A warm sensation blooms in his chest right after her words have registered on his brain —hope shines, even if the room goes dark when she closes the door behind her.

***

Laying on his stomach with both hands tucked under his pillow, Giorno stirs awake upon the sound of his phone. The device, set by the bedside table, vibrates and the screen lights up displaying 'fully charged' at the bottom of the screen. After a few seconds, the screen goes black, vibration stops and he's left there, one green eye peeking through the mane of blond hair that fell over his face while he was sleeping.

With a quiet hum, he rolls on his back without moving to the other side of the bed. Running a hand up to get his hair off his face, his free hand carefully pats his side in hopes of finding someone there --however, all he can feel is the mattress and silk sheets under his warm palm.

The twins.

Memories flash behind his eyelids fast: from his wife's worried expression, Westwood driving him home, to Dante and Jovi's feverish expressions. It makes him stir awake completely and as he sits up by the edge of the bed and reaches out to his phone, the darkness around him does not help soothing his mind.

10:39 AM.

“Three hours?” he mumbles to himself, unable to find out how much he slept —but feeling better now.

Standing up and throwing his phone on the bed, he walks up through the familiar bedroom until the pads of his fingers find the light switch, flipping it.

Warm light bathes the room —there, he takes a moment to look around, eyes scanning over the decorations: from his and Lena's CD's collection, to the empty side of the bed, where her sweater lays folded on top of her pillow.

Sighing, he turns around and gets into the bathroom. Stripping off his boxers and getting under the shower head, letting the cold water run down his body. 

Stepping out, a towel wrapped around his waist, Giorno throws his hair back, feeling some water drops run down his back in the process. Coming into the closet, his hand rests above the towel holding it in place while he looks for something to put together a decent outfit. 

Finally dressed in black pants and a black turtleneck shirt, Giorno walks around the closet, looking for his shoes until he finds them by Lena’s side —he’s not sure how they got there— and puts them on, turning to pick his black trench coat from the hanger. Letting it drape over his arm, he comes to a stop by the mirror, making quick work with his hair, simply combing it back loosely, with two stubborn pieces of short hair falling on his forehead and putting on his barrel piercings, rings and the arrowhead hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt. Taking one last look in the mirror, his brow softens as he nods to himself, putting on his trench coat. 

Exiting the bathroom and standing in the middle of the room, his eyes fall on Lena’s sweater atop her pillow: walking up to the bed, he tucks it under his arm, slipping his phone inside his pocket before leaving the room.

The hall is empty, he notes, and the silence in the mansion is something he’s grown unfamiliar with. As he rounds the corner, Akashi comes into view. The swordsman is sitting at the top of the stairs, talking to someone in the lobby.

As he keeps walking, Akashi seems to sense his presence and, turning to him, the pink haired man grins, standing up. “Goooooood morning, boss!” 

“Good morning, Akashi.” Looking down, Abel’s already waving from the lobby, grinning and excusing himself when Mista calls for him from outside. 

Akashi walks before him, gesturing him forward, “C’mon, Lena’s with the boys! Dr. Louis is here, too, and she’s already working to get your mini you’s up and ready to run around!” 

Humming, Giorno follows him, quietly listening to the story he has to share now —Akashi has been alive for about 400 years, and he’s admitted openly how bored he truly is: to Giorno, listening to his stories seems like the best way to help him get rid of his boredom at least for a while. The man is also impatient, intolerant to getting interrupted with a quick mind: and Giorno, ever the patient man, has no problem listening to him. After all, Akashi has been alive through historical moments and always has something to share. 

“Anyway, I’ll tell you about Tesla and Edison later: just keep in mind Tesla was right and Edison was a bitch.” Coming to a stop before the twins’ room, Akashi looks up to declare that right into Giorno’s eyes. The Don, with a nod and a smile, replies: “I’ll remember that, Akashi.” 

“Good.” opening the door, Akashi lets him in, closing it behind his back. 

Four pairs of eyes fall on him as soon as he steps in and the door closes. 

“Well, good morning, Giovanna. You don’t look like crap anymore~” Rohan is the first to greet him, waving from his seat on Dante’s bed, where Dr. López stands holding his clipboard and pen.  

Chuckling, Giorno walks in, patting Rohan’s back a bit too hard, and pressing a kiss to Dante’s forehead. Then, he walks around, kisses Jovi’s forehead and offers a handshake to Dr. Louis. 

“Thank you for being here, Dr. Louis. We’re grateful for your support.” 

“Of course, Don Giovanna.” Dr. Louis nods his way, turning back to check Jovi’s blood pressure and write down notes on his breathing. 

Looking on, he makes eye contact with Lena, a warm smile spreading through his lips when her cheeks turn pink and her smile reaches her eyes: she’s sitting on the couch, overlooking the procedures. Walking up to her, he sits by her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, feeling her nuzzling her face against the side of his face. By her side Ares meows, purring and climbing on her lap to get his attention. 

Pulling back, he reveals the sweater under his arm, laying it gently over her form with a soft whisper of, “Your nose is cold, dear.” 

She smiles, taking the garment from him and pulling it on. “Not as cold now~”

Rohan glances around at the room, filled almost to capacity with visitors. “If it’s alright, I’ll go check in on Ari and Ellie… Now that Giovanna is back.”

“Yes, of course, re-join us when you’re ready.” Giorno offers a warm smile, gesturing to Akashi. “If you’ll show him to the Kishibe’s room??”

Jumping up from his seat, Akashi grins. “I’ve actually been waiting for a chance to talk to you, Kishibe-sensei!” Walking over, the two exit the room, Giorno shaking his head.

“Kishibe may have a hard time getting him to shut up now that he’s started.”

Lena smiles, leaning into his chest. “Rohan can handle it, I’m sure~”

Lowering his voice to a whisper, the Don focuses his gaze on the twins. “How are things going? Did you make any progress?”

Whispering back, Lena replies. “I think so. Dr. Louis has more experience with these kinds of situations, so I have more hope now… More confidence that we have the best team possible here.”

He kisses her forehead, noticing she’s warmer than usual herself. “Have you gotten enough water, baby?”

She shakes her head no, but reaches for a bottle nearby. “We’ve been so busy getting everyone up to speed, I haven’t had time.”

Giorno reaches gently for the bump, resting his hand there. “You have to take care of yourself. For us. And… For Esme.”

She nods, tearing up a little and taking a sip from the bottle. “I know…”

[strangeaeonbooks]

Making a Case-bound Book

Finally, the continuation of the case bound book. I actually finished this awhile ago and my fiance loved her sewing journal. Lets see the process.

Last time, we made the text-block, I also added a small bit of card stock with a decorative paper to act as headbands.

We get the dimensions of the text block add to my measurements for the davy board, I subtracted 3mm to the width (to account for the spine gap), and added 4mm to the height (to add a bit of overhand on the fore edge).

With this in mind we cut our davy board, and use the spine of the text-block itself to measure out a strip for the case.

I also like to hit the board edges with a bit of sandpaper to keep the covering from showing any weird ridges from the cuts.

Now you can PVA glue to attach your first board onto your covering material, using a bone folder to smooth out the front.

Measure the width of the board itself (mine was 2mm), add 7mm to that number and space the spine board next to the first cover board.

I used a straight edge to keep everything lined up while I pressed and smoothed the board.

Repeat these steps with the last cover board piece and trim off the excess cover material. While you're trimming, you can cut 45* angles at the corners of the board, make sure that the cut is a boards width away from the edge of the board (My board was 2mm so I cut 2mm away from the board on those corners.

Now fold over the covering material, starting with the top and bottom edges. A bone folder is really handy here.

Before folding and gluing the fore edge of the cover, indent the little fold at the top and bottom of both sides, this is key in giving you a cleaner look at the fold edges. This is pretty hit and miss for me to be honest, but practice, practice, practice, right?

With the Case complete there is only one step left: Casing In!

[jameswangmd482]

Choosing the Right Specialist for Ear Pinning in Chicago: A Step-by-Step Guide

Ear pinning, or otoplasty is a popular cosmetic procedure that addresses prominent or protruding ears. For many individuals in Chicago, the desire for a more balanced and harmonious appearance often leads them to consider ear pinning in Chicago. This transformative surgery can significantly enhance one's facial aesthetics. This guide provides an in-depth look at ear pinning, including its benefits, procedure, recovery process, and how to choose the right option for you in Chicago.

What is Ear Pinning?

Ear pinning, medically known as otoplasty, is a surgical procedure designed to correct the shape, position, or size of the ears. The goal of the surgery is to bring protruding ears closer to the head, create a more natural contour, and improve overall facial harmony. It is often performed on children, but many adults also seek this procedure to enhance their appearance.

Why Consider Ear Pinning?

Aesthetic Enhancement

One of the most common reasons people seek ear pinning is to address aesthetic concerns. Protruding ears can sometimes lead to self-consciousness, social discomfort, or bullying, especially for children. Ear pinning can significantly improve self-esteem and confidence by creating a more balanced facial profile.

Functional Improvement

In some cases, ear pinning can also address functional issues. For individuals with asymmetrical or unusually shaped ears, the procedure can help correct these issues, leading to a more symmetrical and functional appearance.

Long-Lasting Results

Ear pinning typically yields long-lasting results. Once the procedure is completed and the ears have healed, the new position of the ears is usually permanent. This makes it a worthwhile investment for those seeking a lasting change.

The Ear Pinning Procedure

Consultation and Evaluation

Before undergoing ear pinning, a thorough consultation with a qualified cosmetic specialist is essential. During this consultation, the surgeon will evaluate your ears, discuss your aesthetic goals, and determine the most suitable approach for your needs. They will also review your medical history to ensure that you are a good candidate for the procedure.

The Surgical Process

Ear pinning is generally performed under local anesthesia with sedation or general anesthesia, depending on the patient’s age and comfort level. The procedure involves several key steps:

Incision: The surgeon will make a small incision behind the ear, where the scar will be less visible. In some cases, an additional incision may be made on the front of the ear.

Repositioning: The underlying cartilage is then reshaped and repositioned. The surgeon may use sutures to secure the cartilage in its new position.

Closure: The incisions are closed with sutures, and a dressing is applied to protect the area.

Duration and Recovery

The procedure typically takes about 1 to 2 hours to complete, depending on the complexity. After the surgery, patients may experience some swelling, bruising, and discomfort, which can be managed with prescribed pain medication and over-the-counter remedies.

Postoperative Care

Proper postoperative care is crucial for a successful recovery. Patients are usually advised to:

Wear a Headband: A special headband or bandage is often recommended to keep the ears in place and support the healing process.

Avoid Physical Activities: Strenuous activities and sports should be avoided for several weeks to prevent complications.

Follow-Up Appointments: Regular follow-up appointments with the cosmetic specialist will be scheduled to monitor the healing process and remove any sutures if necessary.

Choosing the Right Specialist in Chicago

Research and Credentials

Selecting a qualified and experienced cosmetic specialist is key to achieving optimal results with ear pinning. In Chicago, many highly skilled professionals offer ear pinning services. When choosing a specialist, consider their credentials, experience, and patient reviews. Look for a board-certified plastic surgeon or a specialist with a proven track record in performing ear pinning procedures.

Initial Consultation

An initial consultation is an excellent opportunity to discuss your goals, ask questions, and assess the specialist’s approach. During the consultation, inquire about their experience with ear pinning, the techniques they use, and the expected outcomes. A reputable specialist will be transparent about the procedure, potential risks, and recovery process.

Cost and Financing

The cost of ear pinning in Chicago can vary based on factors such as the surgeon’s experience, the complexity of the procedure, and the facility where it is performed. It is essential to discuss the cost during the consultation and explore financing options if needed. Many cosmetic practices offer payment plans or financing to make the procedure more accessible.

Risks and Considerations

Potential Risks

As with any surgical procedure, ear pinning carries some risks. These may include:

Infection: While rare, infections can occur. Proper care and adherence to postoperative instructions can minimize this risk.

Scarring: Scarring is usually minimal and well-hidden, but it is important to follow the specialist’s advice on wound care.

Asymmetry: In some cases, there may be slight asymmetry in the final result. This can often be corrected with a secondary procedure if necessary.

Sensation Changes: Some patients may experience temporary changes in sensation around the ears, which usually resolves over time.

Considerations for Children

For children undergoing ear pinning, it is essential to ensure that they are emotionally mature and understand the procedure. The surgery is typically performed after the age of five when the ears have reached their full size. Parents should carefully consider the timing and discuss their child’s specific needs with the specialist.

Alternative Options

While ear pinning is a popular and effective solution for protruding ears, some individuals may explore alternative options or non-surgical treatments:

Non-Surgical Ear Correction: Some non-surgical options, such as ear molding or prosthetics, may be suitable for certain cases. These methods are less invasive but may not provide the same long-term results as surgery.

Cosmetic Enhancements: For those seeking a less permanent solution, cosmetic enhancements such as ear clips or adornments can provide a temporary change in appearance.

Conclusion

Ear pinning is a transformative procedure that can significantly enhance an individual’s appearance and self-esteem. For those considering ear pinning in Chicago, it is crucial to research qualified specialists, understand the procedure and recovery process, and weigh the potential risks and benefits. By making an informed decision and working with a skilled professional, you can achieve the desired results and enjoy a more harmonious and confident appearance.

[voodslifestyle]

The Evolution and Benefits of True Wireless Stereo (TWS) Earbuds

Introduction

TWS or True Wireless Stereo can be considered as a step up in the audio freedom by providing the users with the wireless experience. Since then, TWS earbuds have become very popular because of the ease of use, as well as several advanced aspects. Combined with the modern-looking design, state-of-art functions have embraced familiar faces of many consumers globally.

What are True Wireless Stereo (TWS) Earbuds?

True Wireless Stereo earbuds are a wireless earbud that is not encompassed with cables that joins both earpiece of the set. The functionality of TWS technology is based on the wireless transmission of sound signals to each earbud separately through Bluetooth, which creates a perfectly synchronized audio experience with terrific sound quality. This is helping in combating earlier models where two earbuds used to be connected with the help of a cable or headband. With TWS, the users get to experience true wireless as well as premium audio experience that brings a new meaning to personal audio.

Advantages of TWS Earbuds

Another strength of True Wireless Stereo earbuds is perhaps the easy travel and convenience that accompanies the said device. This portable design also makes them small in size meaning that they can fit in a pocket or bag and be used everywhere.

In the same respect, the lack of cables implies fewer problems of entanglement, which makes the devices even more versatile and convenient to use.

TWS earbuds also focuses on sound quality by such aspects as active noise cancellation and acoustics stereo that produce a quality environment for listeners.

Power has also been optimized; you can get hours of playtime out of many TWS earbuds due to their charging cases.

Finally, the connectivity and compatibility are perfect, and all the trendy TWS earbuds have a proper connection to a great number of devices using Bluetooth.

The Most Popular TWS Earbud Brands and Models

Leading brands have appeared in the market of TWS earbuds, the following are some of them. Apple AirPods introduced a new high of a sleek design with wireless capability that integrated well into the Apple goods and services.

Next, we have the Samsung Galaxy Buds, these are the best earphones designed for androgyne devices with a rich and comfortable sound.

The WF-series from Sony is celebrated for having the best noise isolation and truly luxurious sound.

These three models are quite special for they each come with features that set them out from one another and help to satisfy users’ likes and provide an improvement to the outcome of sound.

Factors to Look at when Selecting TWS Earbuds

Specifically, when purchasing TWS earbuds, the users primary priority is the sound quality, which includes clear sound, deep bass, and good noise reduction.

Similar to considers from comfort and how well the earbuds can fit in order to prevent causing any discomfort should they be used for an extensive period.

Battery is also on the list of the most crucial aspects, where the users require earbuds that would last a full day.

Price range is elastic, which represents both cheap and expensive models, giving a consumer opportunity to make a decision according to the financial capabilities.

Other factors such as waterproofing waterproof, touch screen technology, and voice command technology may also finally push the decision one way or the other.

Conclusion

TWS earbuds have introduced a brand new way of personal audio that is most convenient, portable, and immensely satisfying in terms of sound quality. New technology continues to be developed and improved, thus, further enhancing features coupling seamless connection and better design make TWS earbuds a necessity in people’s lives. By so doing, the users can be able to listen to their favorite tracks like never before, depending on the pair of headphones that they have acquired.

[championsyedm]

Only the A50 wireless headset, Gen 4 is compatible

ASTRO A50 vs Arctis 9X Signal losses are caused by Wi-Fi routers cycling through channels in their bands to locate the clearest one. With my old Turtle Beach X41s, I used to experience the same issue. They were connected by 2-4GHz wireless and would cycle through static, crackling, and popping noises every few minutes before stopping. Turn off automatic channel selection (5GHz in this case) on your router, and then set it to a channel that doesn't interact with the headset. Problem fixed, no more drops. This is not a computer game. The only way to use Bluetooth is to turn on the headset first, which turns on your Xbox as well. If you have an Xbox, it will automatically switch on whenever you try to use the Bluetooth feature on this headset. It had enormous potential but a poor execution.  Wrap a rubber band around the mic near the base for a quick fix. The next step is to contact Castro directly and explain the situation. I had the same issue with mine, and they sent me a completely new or refurbished (it appeared to be brand new) replacement that works flawlessly. I didn't even have to send in my old one, so I now have spare parts in case I need them again. However, the replacement took over two months to arrive, so it wasn't the quickest transaction. Although the epidemic contributed to the delay. Last but not least, Astro will only replace it if it is returned within one year of purchase. The headset will disconnect at any time. The headset also produces significant auditory interference noise feedback. It connects to both, but it is not a secure connection. Another thing to remember is that if you wish to utilize Bluetooth, you must first turn on the headset, which also turns on your Xbox. If you have an Xbox, it will automatically switch on whenever you try to use the Bluetooth feature on this headset. It had enormous potential but a poor execution.  Just to add my two cents, it works perfectly on my MacBook Pro, and I also tested it on a friend's MacBook Air. I'm not sure what the deal is with the guy who gave the long-winded response about it not functioning on his MacBook Air. Unless Mac/Apple has developed a new version of Bluetooth that I'm not aware of, it will work with all Bluetooth-enabled products. It also works on all of my Samsung devices, which I use for everything else, including my tablet and phone. A completely new Xbox Chipset with enhanced audio quality and dual-wireless compatibility that is tailored for ultra-low power consumption. Bluetooth: Connects to Bluetooth and Xbox simultaneously to play music and take calls while gaming, or to use wirelessly with your mobile device. PC; Bluetooth-enabled mobile device; Xbox One-Xbox Wireless Outstanding sound: Arctis’ award-winning soundscape emphasizes tiny but important noises to give you an auditory edge.The optional A50 mod kit allows users to add synthetic leather headband ear cushions for increased noise isolation for even more customisation. Only the A50 wireless headset, Gen 4 is compatible. Rechargeable lithium-ion battery with a life expectancy of 15+ hours The USB sound card feature allows game voice balance, game and voice streaming while utilizing a PC. There are no optical cables required. Voice balancing in games allows the user complete control over the game and chat mix. Audio Astro Audio V2 is an immersive audio and sound experience that makes dialogue, music, and in-game sounds easy to hear and understand.

https://litecomparison.com/12-may-astro-a50-vs-arctis-9x/