#Gift Cards Market Size

[paynxt360fintech]

Google and Amazon stand to gain from Meta’s social commerce exit

Ever since the pandemic outbreak, the e-commerce industry landscape has undergone a major revamp, with social commerce emerging as the next growth driver for the global market. Players such as Meta, Google, and Amazon all made a major push in the segment to tap into the high-growth potential of the social commerce industry. According to PayNXT360 estimates, the global social commerce market is expected to grow at a compound annual growth rate of 12.7% from 2022 to 2028. The global social commerce GMV will increase from US$661 billion in 2023 to reach US$1.3 trillion by 2028.

[tbrcresearchreport]

The Business Research Company offers digital gift card market research report 2023 with industry size, share, segments and market growth

[merry-kuroo]

Rook's Birthday - A Lucanis x Rook Birthday Fic

Hello everyone :)

Today is my birthday and I decided to gift myself a Rookanis fic :)

Characters will probably be OOC and if any of the Dragon Age lore is wrong...I apologize. I just got into Dragon Age in June so I still get information mixed up.

Okay I hope you all enjoy <3

Thank you @thebookworm0001 and @tkwritesdumbassassins for the support

Warnings? Uhhh may be some grammatical errors or weird sentences since I didn't get to spend time editing this like I wanted. Maybe some spoilers?? No Spite...sorry y'all :( He'll be included in my future Rookanis fics.

Words: 3,576

Lucanis Dellamorte had experience wrapping presents. Vials that released poison once the box was opened, making the target suffer a slow and painful death was a assassination method for the Antivan Crows. It wasn't his favorite or preferred method, but it got the job done in certain situations. During one job, he watched Illario wrap a box to look like a present, but it was empty except for an ominous note warning of the target's impending death –a flare for the dramatic that was Illario’s idea. The wrapping looked like shit, so Lucanis tore the wrapping paper off and redid it. 

This present was different. 

Lucanis couldn't make a decision about the wrapping paper color, the size of the bow, and whether he should add curling ribbon. The other members of the Veilguard–Harding, Neve, Bellara, Emmerich, and Taash–were in the library wrapping their birthday gifts for Rook. He occasionally heard some laughter from the room. Lucanis decided to wrap Rook’s presents in his room.   

Lucanis opened up the slate gray jewelry box and stared at the large, silver hoop earrings lying within. When he and Rook went shopping at a night market in Rivain a couple of weeks prior to her birthday, she had stopped at a jewelry stand and marveled at the earring's simplistic yet elegant hoop design. They were shaped like ovals.  Lucanis was sure she would buy them–she touched her empty ear lobes as the vendor tried to goad her into buying them. Being a member of the Lord of Fortunes, Rook had a penchant for jewelry and anything that looked shiny and valuable. She always wore earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and anklets. 

She considered the earrings for another moment or two then declined and hurried away from the vendor. On the way back to the eluvian that would take them back to the Crossroads, then the Lighthouse, she hardly spoke. Lucanis knew she was upset, but he didn't think they were close enough for him to ask her why she was upset. 

When they were back in the Lighthouse, she admitted to him that the earrings were the same kind her mother wore and that had brought up a homesickness for her village, her family, and friends she grew up with. Later on that evening, when Rook was distracted by teaching  Manfred a complicated card, Lucanis used the eluvian to go back to Rivain and buy the earrings from the night market vendor. 

“I’m glad you’re buying something for your wife. Sometimes it's nice for a husband to buy his wife something pretty,” The vendor said as he placed the earrings in a box. “Do you want me to wrap this for you?”

“She isn’t my wife,” Lucanis said, much harsher than he intended. The vendor swallowed and gave Lucanis the box before he attended to the next customer. 

That’s right. Rook–Ava– was his companion. She led the Veilguard and he owed her a debt for breaking him out of the Ossuary. She was also helping him find Zara Renata. She was a good person and a good leader–something that Lucanis was happy to see her keep balanced despite all the hardships they’ve faced for the last few months. It was exactly for that reason why his eyes lingered on her a little longer when she was done speaking, and why a burst of joy sparked in him when she praised his cooking and demanded seconds. It felt like a balancing act. He felt like he’d known Rook all his life and yet he didn’t know anything about her. 

It was Bellara who announced that Rook’s birthday was coming up and that they should do something for her. Hence why he was obsessing over wrapping paper and ribbons and bows of all things. Maker, spare him…

At least Rook wasn’t here. Davrin had volunteered to distract her and take her away from the Lighthouse so everyone could wrap their gifts. After Lucanis was done wrapping the gifts, he’d have to start making a cake, but he’d only do that after Rook went to bed. If she came back from her excursion with Davrin and caught him baking a cake, she would insist on staying in the kitchen as “the chef’s taste tester”. 

Lucanis finally settled on purple wrapping paper and a green bow and ribbon. Rook had mentioned to him once that purple and green were her favorite colors, which is something he didn’t expect because she always wore blues, reds, and yellows–the typical colors of the Lords of Fortune. 

Night fell and Davrin and Rook came back. She announced that she was going to bed early and bid everyone goodnight. Everyone else had finished wrapping their presents before she came back and placed the presents in their rooms. Lucanis began baking a vanilla cake with a cinnamon sugar filling and icing. He used the icing pipe to draw a Rook on the cake. Once it was done, he put it in an ice box. Lucanis’s eyes found themselves looking at Rook’s present again. A pair of earrings didn’t feel like enough. What the vendor at the market said bothered him. Something pretty…the earrings were simple, but pretty. Rook loved jewelry, she made that very clear with the way she wore different necklaces and bracelets everyday and the studs and dangling earrings that started in her earlobe and traveled up her ear. 

Wait. Didn’t she like…

 Lucanis went to his trunk and pulled out a silver dagger. One day when he was cleaning his daggers, Rook had wandered into the pantry for a snack and she saw him. She didn’t say anything as she sat on the floor with him and watched him meticulously clean each dagger. Rook touched one that had a dark blue gemstone embedded in the center of the hilt. She ran her fingers over the gem, smiled, and said, “This is beautiful.” 

Rook never used daggers in combat, but  she was proficient in using a sword and shield. Maybe giving her a dagger so she could have another weapon on hand wasn’t a bad idea. Lucanis placed the dagger back in the sheath and placed a bow on it. He grabbed the earrings and dagger and headed towards Rook’s room. 

Once he arrived, he lingered at her door. It was past midnight meaning he could wish her a happy birthday now. The plan was for everyone to give their gifts to her tomorrow morning. He didn’t want to give his gifts in front of other people. Lucanis rarely felt embarrassed, but Rook brought these feelings to the surface. He sighed and placed the presents in front of her door. She’d see them first thing in the morning. He didn’t place a namecard with his signature on the presents, but he hoped that she would know it was from him.

Lucanis turned away and headed back to his room, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before Rook’s birthday celebration began. 

—------

Ava was still awake in her room. She twirled a pen around her fingers and stared at the strip of paper she had torn off her journal. 

When she was a child, her parents would have her write down her birthday wish on a piece of paper then she'd place it under her pillow. Her mother said her wish would come true if she slept on it. It was a silly thing she did as a child and she hadn't done it in years. But this year had been a lot–the elven gods broke free of the Veil, she was leading a group of people from different factions to fight these beings, and her mother was sick. Her mother was sick but Ava couldn't afford to take care of her because of all the aforementioned reasons. 

Ava sighed. She was thankful for the Crossroads and the eluvian that took her to Rivain and teleported her close to where she grew up. Because she did check up on her family when time allowed, maybe she could be a bit selfish with her birthday wish tonight. 

Ava wrote her wish down on the slip of paper and placed it under her pillow. She was going to be thirty years old tomorrow. Her 29th year in this world had brought hardships, but it also blessed her with incredible companions. 

Her thirtieth year may be even more tumultuous but she was confident it'd be okay as long as she had the Veilguard with her. 

—-----

Taash volunteered to get Rook from her room when everyone arrived in the dining room with their presents. Everyone sat at the dining room table, leaving the spot at the head of the table available for Rook. Lucanis sat at the far end of the table. Neve took a seat across from Lucanis and Davrin sat to his right. Lucanis started bouncing his leg.

Neve looked under the table, then looked back up at Lucanis and smirked. Lucanis’s leg stopped moving. “Nervous?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

Before Lucanis could ask her what she knew, a blindfolded Rook walked into the dining room. She was holding Taash’s hand and frowning. 

“Taash! Seriously, where are we going?” Rook whined. 

“Okay, take your blindfold off,” Taash said. 

Rook pulled it down and everyone said, “Happy birthday, Rook!”

She gasped, then began laughing. Her dark brown eyes shined with amusement. “Thank you everyone! You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I know how crazy things have gotten with fighting the elven gods and dealing with darkspawn, Venatori, Antaam…” Bellara counted the adversaries they faced in the last few months on her hand. “But it’s always good to take a breather and celebrate something, right? So we didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

Rook wiped a couple of tears from her eyes. “Thank you all. I’m so lucky to have you all.”

“Okay, okay, enough with the sappy shit. Come open your presents,” Taash said as she led Rook to the head of the table. She was seated between Harding and Bellara. 

Lucanis noticed her bare earlobes, and he pushed the disappointment aside. Was it wrong to think she would have put them on first thing in the morning? He watched Rook take Harding’s present and shake the box lightly, trying to guess what was inside before she opened it. 

Neve cleared her throat. Lucanis felt a small box and a dagger sheath being pushed into his hand. “Give it to her in person. Don’t just leave it in front of her door. That’s not how you’ll get her to like you back,” Neve whispered. 

Davrin turned towards them and nodded his head in agreement. He whispered to Lucanis, “Assan had the presents in his mouth when I woke up this morning. Even he knows you need to give these to Ava in person.”

Ava. 

It wasn’t a secret that Rook and Davrin were close, but he didn’t expect him to call Rook by her real name. Lucanis thought about calling her Ava too, but she seemed comfortable being called Rook. But did she like it when some people called her by her real name? Lucanis's frown deepened. 

The sound of wrapping paper being shredded snapped Lucanis back to the present moment. This was about Rook and celebrating her thirtieth birthday, not him and his feelings. Rook smiled as she opened Harding’s present–a blue scarf to wear since the weather was becoming colder, bath salts, and lotion. Bellara handed her present to Rook next. Rook unwrapped it to reveal a fluffy pink blanket. Rook immediately wrapped it around her shoulders and sighed contently. 

Emmerich passed her his present. The present elicited an excited squeal from her. It was a gift basket filled with Rook’s favorite coffee and tea flavors from Rivain. She stood up and hugged Emmerich while thanking him profusely. Lucanis suddenly found the notch on the table very interesting. 

Taash gave her a bracelet, also from Rivain. It contained her birthstone in the middle and Rook immediately slipped it on to her left wrist. Neve gifted Rook the next installment of her favorite detective romance novel series. What made Rook emotional was that it was translated into Rivaini and not the trade tongue, which Rook had been reading most of her novels from recently.

“Thank you. I’ve missed reading books in Rivaini,” Rook said as she flipped through the pages. 

Davrin’s present was a wooden carving of Rook, who looked like a little girl, and she played with a dog. Rook had a dog in Rivain and she had mentioned multiple times that she missed him. Rook hugged Davrin, and a flash of irritation ran through Lucanis. He ignored the knowing look Neve gave him. One again, Lucanis found the notch on the table very interesting.

Then everyone was staring at him. Waiting for him to give Rook her presents. He had no doubt Davrin and Neve told Harding, Bellara, Emmerich, and Taash about him leaving Rook’s presents in front of the door. They all looked at him knowingly, and Rook looked at him…expectedly. Then a flash of hurt appeared on her face. His hesitation made her think he didn’t have a gift for her. He would give her the gifts, but now wasn’t the time. It didn’t feel right.

“I made you a cake,” Lucanis said, cutting through the awkward moment. He pushed Rook’s presents into Davrin’s lap with a little more force than he intended. He stood up and walked to the ice box to grab the cake. 

He brought it to the dining room and Rook’s eyes lit up. “Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a cinnamon sugar cake. Thank you, Lucanis.”

The back of his neck grew warm. He didn’t respond as he placed the cake on the table. Emmerich and Neve brought the plates and cutlery from the kitchen. The first and largest slice of cake went to Rook. She placed a spoonful of cake into her mouth. 

A moan escaped from her lips and she closed her eyes. Lucanis almost dropped his plate. Maker, the sound that came out of her was…Lucanis swallowed and he said through a thick voice, “I guess you like it?”

“I love it,” Rook exclaimed. She took another bite and moaned again. “I’m going to eat this for lunch and dinner.”

“Hey, save some for us too–” Taash said as she cut a large slice as well.

“Taash, that’s like half of the cake!” Bellara protested. “Cut that in half.”

As the Veilguard tousled over the exact cake proportions, Lucanis’s eyes stayed on Rook. She ate slowly, savoring the cake. Her fingers were sticky from the cinnamon sugar. She put one of her fingers in her mouth, licking the sugar off. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach flipped. What was this? Excitement? Dread? 

This was ridiculous. Was he really this happy just from seeing Rook happy?

His thoughts were cut short by Davrin shoving the presents back into his lap. He nudged Lucanis and tilted his head towards Rook. Rook was currently in an animated conversation with Harding and Emmerich. 

The moment still didn’t feel right. He realized what he wanted. He wanted to make her smile and laugh–and for no one else to see a moment meant just for them. 

Lucanis gripped the presents under the table and tried to enjoy the rest of the party.

—-----

Rook’s birthday was almost over. 

Lucanis found himself outside of her door again holding her wrapped presents. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He heard the squeak of the bed and soft footsteps pad across the floor. Rook opened the door and Lucanis took in the sight of her in pajamas. She wore a pink top with thin straps and a matching pair of pajama shorts. A black silk robe was tied around her waist, but hung loosely off her shoulder. Her black hair was pulled into a bun. She always wore her hair down or in a ponytail. Her hair pinned up looked nice. 

“Good evening Lucanis,” She said. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Oh, then do you need something?”

Lucanis pulled the presents from behind his back and handed them to Rook. “Happy birthday.” His voice sounded strange and thick like it did earlier. His nerves were growing worse as he anticipated Rook’s reaction.

Rook looked surprised–not happy like he’d imagined. Was he wrong to think the presents could make her happy? That he could make her happy? Lucanis was about to excuse himself when Rook held the door open wider and beckoned him inside. Lucanis stepped into her room and felt himself being overcome by a multitude of senses. Lots of floral and vanilla scents. They were coming from the perfume jars on her dresser. 

Rook sat down on her bed and began opening the presents. The first thing she grabbed was the dagger. She slid it out of its sheath and turned the blade over, admiring it. She touched the blue gem in the hilt, just like she had weeks ago. “This is beautiful,” Rook said. “Is this the dagger you cleaned a few weeks ago?”

“Yes,” He answered. He was so nervous that he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence. Rook still wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either. What was going on in that head of hers?

She placed the dagger back in its sheath and grabbed the second present. She opened it up and held up the silver hoop earrings. “Lucanis,” She said, surprised. “This is–”

“You were looking at them the other day at the night market in Rivain. I went back and bought them. I thought you wanted them. I–”

“I did,” Rook answered, her voice thick with emotion. “I really did. But looking at them made me miss my mother so much.” She held the earrings up, her eyes shining. “That was silly of me. I love these earrings so I should wear them, right?” 

Rook undid the clasp of the earrings and slipped them into her earlobes. She touched the hoops and smiled at him. “How do I look, Lucanis?”

“Beautiful,” He said. A strong, clear thinking Lucanis wouldn’t have said that. However, this day had been strange for him and he wasn’t used to feeling all of these emotions at once. The nerves were making him act this way. 

A smile finally appeared on Rook’s face. She stood up and walked over to him, and enveloped him into a hug. He was taken aback. By the time he realized he should be hugging her back, she was already pulling away. A small noise of disapproval escaped from him.

“Lucanis, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be truthful.” She took a deep breath. “You and me. We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, I consider you a friend,” Lucanis answered. His feelings for Rook were blossoming into something else, something he couldn’t control. But at this moment in Rook’s bedroom with no one else to see them…he could let himself admit that he had these feelings and as their mission to bring down the blighted gods continued, he knew these feelings would grow. His feelings for Rook may never disappear. 

Ava gave him a sly smile. “That’s good. I consider you a friend too.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “A good friend would show me how to use that fancy dagger over there. If you don’t, I’ll have to use it as a decoration and place it next to my perfumes.”

“What a waste,” Lucanis murmured, which made Rook laugh. 

“You know what else good friends do?” Rook laughed. “They give birthday presents to each other in person and not leave them in front of doors or hide them under the dining room table.”

“How did you know?” Lucanis sighed. 

“I’m very observant,” Rook said. “I thought about calling you out in front of everyone earlier today, but I didn’t want to embarrass you. I knew I’d get my presents eventually. I just needed to wait.”

“And…was it worth the wait?”

“It was.”

Lucanis wanted to stay–wrap Rook into his arms and listen to her talk. He could fall asleep to the sound of her voice. But he didn’t want to cross that boundary. Perhaps he never would. Right now, this moment between them in her bedroom was enough. Seeing her wear the earrings he bought her was enough. Spending time with her to teach her how to use a dagger was enough too. If he got too greedy, then they would both get hurt. 

“Goodnight, Rook,” Lucanis said as he headed towards the door. “I’ll show you how to use the  dagger tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

“Call me Ava.” She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re friends, aren’t we? You can call me Ava too when we’re alone–I mean when we’re just talking casually, ya know?”

“I’ll do that then. Goodnight, Ava,” Lucanis said. He stepped out of her room and closed the door behind him. 

What Lucanis didn’t see was Ava Laidir jumping up and down in a quiet cheer. She went to the mirror over her dresser and looked at the earrings Luanis gave her. 

Beautiful. 

Lucanis called her beautiful.  Perhaps her love wouldn’t stay one sided for long after all. It looks like the birthday wish she wrote down last night–Grow closer to Lucanis Dellamorte– came true after all.

[betterfettered]

Bruh can I be honest and say your Yan! Leviathan kinda scares me because Levi already lives rent free in my head and I kinda don’t wanna know what would happen if he figured it out?

I’m literally not joking about leviathan straight up living inside my brain rent free, like he actively takes up a shit ton of my thoughts enough for me to get the Tetris effect when I sleep.

And idk why but something tells me that if he knew that I’m practically obsessed with him, I wouldn’t be touching grass or seeing anyone else ever again for my entire existence.

Hey anon!! I am sorry this took so long, it got really long (3k words!!) and kind of went in its own direction hahaha. I hope you like it!! It turns out that you were right, and no one will ever find you in his clutches LOLL Let me know what you think?

(AFAB!reader x AMAB!yandere)(Plus size reader💖🫡)(noncon)(stalking)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(sort of kind of an AU but not really?)[This is fetish content and rape and stalking are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Your reaction was strange to Leviathan because he'd imagined it over and over again in his head no less than a thousand times but had not been able to divine what you actually reacted like. In his mind when he'd intentionally spilled his drink on himself you'd make a little surprised noise or say "oh no!" or laugh, but in reality you just frowned, your eyebrows lifting in shock.

The important part, however, you still did: you turned to your bag, rifling through it for some napkins, and offered them to him like it was nothing, like making his heart jackrabbit to the point of nearly shattering was nothing. He snatched them quickly so that you wouldn’t see how his hands shook in anticipation.

Okay, next say thank you, he said to himself and tried his hardest but was unable to pry his lips open or make eye contact with you or even breathe. When the elevator reached the floor that the both of you lived on, he sprinted from the elevator to get to his door, spilling plenty more cherry slushy on himself in the process. He could barely get his hands steady enough to get the key into his door, but the second he was inside and had slammed the door behind him he tossed his soiled jacket and the half empty slushy to the ground and hurried into his bedroom, dropping on his knees in front of his shrine of you.

Well, it wasn’t a shrine just yet. It was too small – he had only the things he could salvage from your trash, like an empty lipstick tube, a plastic fork from some takeout, a debit card statement listing all of your purchases six months ago. This was the first thing you had ever given to him, though, the first gift with your scent and blessing on it. He shut his eyes and held the napkins up to his nose, inhaling deeply and summoning the image of you to his mind.

Leviathan focused on your eyes, thinking about how your gaze meeting his meant that you were not looking at anyone else and, he imagined, not thinking about anyone else. It didn’t take long for the memory to become a fantasy: he imagined you looking at him still, but now with your bottom lip caught between your teeth out of sheer lust for him. Reaching into his nightstand for lube, he imagined your outfit, which was the standard button down and pencil skirt combination that was something of a uniform for office workers. It was unremarkable but for the way it hugged the soft protrusions of fat on your body. He liked to imagine that your larger size made you unpopular on the dating market, so he would (in his fantasies and occasionally dreams, when he was lucky) be the first to touch and squeeze and lick you – he’d be the only one that you granted such access to, because he and only he was that special to you.

He placed the stack of napkins on his bed and pushed his face down into them to free both hands to undo his belt and slather his cock with lube. Even just touching his shaft made him shiver and clench his jaw, but he didn’t start pumping just yet because his fantasy was still incomplete. First, he needed you to turn to him in his mind, walking towards him until you had sandwiched him up against the wall, every plump part of you pressing up against him like a full bodied hug. Then, when he nearly collapsed with desire both in reality and in his mind, you reached a hand down to his pants, running your hand back and forth over his cock and looking up at him and only him. Only then did he begin stroking, murmuring your name to himself and clutching his bed. It was only a minute or two before he reached his peak and came so hard into his other hand that he became incoherent, his own moans shoving your name out of his mouth to take its place.

Once he caught his breath and the immense pleasure receded, he was filled with a longing that made his eyes begin to tear, his mouth pressing together as he tried to hold himself together. He needed you. At this point, his fantasies were almost as torturous as they were alluring. Just imagining was not enough and never could be, because while he was here with you, you were off thinking about or talking to someone else. He needed the entirety of you and he needed to show you with his body just how much he worshipped you, the same way he did in his mind every night before sleeping.

His hands were slick with cum and lube, so he shut his eyes for a moment once more and rubbed two fingers into the other palm, imagining that it was your tummy covered in his cum instead, but could only tolerate the fantasy for a few seconds before climbing to his feet to go clean up both himself and the mess he’d made in the entryway. He spent the rest of the night hugging a pillow on his couch and watching the old Ruri-chan OVAs from his favorite season and trying to hold back the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes.

Leviathan did not see you again for another week – perhaps you had been working early or late. When you once again met in front of the elevator, he felt downright giddy and reflexively covered his face with the back of his hand, but the glee turned to pure shock when you turned to him and said “Oh, happy birthday, Levi!”

What he did not know was that the day before, a pair of gentlemen (one ginger, one with hair graying only at the tips) had mistakenly knocked on your door. The shorter one pointed and released a party popper right at your face, and the taller one held out a cake that had bites taken directly out of it. Surprise! They had said, and then the three of you were surprised indeed, because you were not who they were expecting and you had not been expecting anything but still could never have imagined this would happen. They asked for a Leviathan, you pointed them next door, and the one with the frosting on his face apologized around another bite he had taken right out of the cake. The other apologized, too, but distractedly, as he was preoccupied with sadness that he had wasted his only party popper on you instead of his brother.

No, Leviathan was not aware of any of that, because Beelzebub couldn’t control himself around the cake and Belphegor wanted a new party popper, so they gave up and planned to come back tomorrow, the actual day of, without saying a word to him. If Leviathan could have spoken in that moment, he would have asked you how you knew, but he could not, so instead he stared at the ground and tried to figure out how you knew. He didn’t generally think of himself as disposed to illogical thinking, so when it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, you had been just as taken with him as he was with you, he figured it was the most obvious conclusion.

He imagined that you had gone home after giving him the napkin and touched yourself, too.

Maybe you also had a shrine for him in your home, and one of the things in it told you when he was born.

“Have I said something wrong…?” you asked, eyeing his stunned expression.

It was all he could do to shake his head, because you had actually said the best possible thing that you could have. Was he dreaming?

When the elevator arrived to the right floor, he allowed you to get off first and then trailed behind you, not even noticing the antlers starting to sprout out of his head and the scales started to spread across his skin. It was as though he was mesmerized by you and couldn’t do anything but follow.

You got to your door, opened it, and then cried out when you felt his full weight against your back, pinning you to the ground. His tailed whipped out and slammed the door shut behind the two of you, and he pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling and shivering a little, feeling his common sense melting away to be replaced with only intoxicating lust.

“What are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice wavering with fear. “Get off of me right now!”

He didn’t reply, only focusing on how the way you were struggling was rubbing your ass up against his cock and making him pant. Was it really possible that you were here beneath him, all his for the rest of your lives together? Distantly he wondered why you were struggling if you were obsessed with him, but brushed it away as not important.

“Please, just get off of me and leave,” you said, your voice becoming thick with the tears starting to pour down your face.

He got to his knees, putting one hand on your shoulder and one beneath your tummy, pulling both upwards to flip you onto your back. You only resisted for a few seconds before allowing him to turn you over onto your back, your shimmering wet eyes meeting his crazed ones and drawing another sob out of you. This did not seem to stop him, as he almost immediately rested back on top of you and pressed his lips to yours, jamming his long tongue into your mouth before you had a chance to clench your jaw. You gagged a little at the length of it, long enough to reach the back of your tongue, and tried to push him off of you, which he merely ignored until you stopped.

He only pulled away and sat up when he noticed your elbow working against your side, at which point he wanted to observe what you were doing with your hand. You were holding your cell phone and trying to type something into it, but as soon as you saw him notice it you pulled it closer to your face, typing as quickly as possible. He felt his heart sink: even though you were in love with him, you were thinking of someone else while he was kissing you. Despair settled over him until it gave way to a sort of panicked jealousy: would you ever unlearn this? Could he trust you to commit to only him? You were going to be his first (and already had been his first kiss)…was he really ready for this? This would be your first fight with each other as a couple.

While he was thinking, he snatched the phone from you and crushed it in his hand, tossing the broken bits aside and pouting.

“Who were you going to call?”

“N-no one.”

“O-okay, well then! Who were you g-gonna text?!” he asked, being able to hear how pathetic he sounded himself.

Try to sound like Lucifer! He told himself, and sat up a little straighter. You can do this, you can do this.

“Th-that…was cheating,” he said, and then tried making his voice a little deeper. “Don’t think of any one else. Ever again….uh, d-do I make m-myself c-clear?”

Complete fail, uggghhhh

It took a moment for you to calm yourself enough to speak.

“Please just let me go,” you repeated around sobs. “I won’t call the police or anything. I won’t even mention it to my friends. Just…please don’t....”

He climbed to his feet at that, though he didn’t leave you even a moment to think your pleas had worked on him before he wrapped you up in his tail, lifting you off of the ground and above his head. You cried out and struggled, kicking him with your feet a few times until he held you further away, but he paid no mind and instead locked and deadbolted the door behind the two of you, then walked deeper into your apartment, checking all of the doors in his path until he found your bedroom. He wanted to pause to look around and examine every last bit of you that the room contained, but he was so hard that it was starting to hurt, so he darted over to your bed and slammed you down onto your back, unwrapping his tail so he could sit down, push your legs up and put them on either side of his waist.

Unfortunately, you still had not learned your lesson about struggling, so he clamped his tail down on your neck to hold you still, tightening it when you started to move around too much, and grabbed both of your wrists to hold them beside your head where the end of his tail could wrap around them, too.

You were talking, or maybe just crying, but he couldn’t focus on that. His attention was completely absorbed by his cock pressing into the heat of your core and your writhing body.

He reached out with shaking hands and undid the buttons of your shirt, taking a while not because he was savoring it but rather because he was trying to undo them too impatiently with his uncoordinated fingers and not being that successful to the point that he ripped the last few buttons open in his haste. His hands pressed down into your plush stomach and then, after a moment of enjoying your inviting softness, he ran them upwards until he held your tits in both hands, squeezing them in a circular motion the way he had seen in a few hentai movies and then pushing his fingers into your bra to touch your bare skin and catch your nipples between his fingers, pinching them until you gave a short whimper that made his cock twitch. He slid his hands out and yanked the bra down to reveal them, then leaned down into your chest and shoved his face right in the center of it, squishing your tits against either side of his head while his hips started to buck against yours, greedily craving the friction between you. His face felt so hot at this point, and yet was no match for the warmth of lying there against your heart.

While he’d had plans to lick and suck your tits and maybe bite them a little to see if he could get you to make noise again, he didn’t think he could wait any longer to penetrate you, he sat up and shoved your skirt upwards around your waist until he could reach your panties, then pushed your legs together in front of him with his arms so he could pull them off of you (and stash them in his pocket). He felt so relieved that he’d only worn joggers today and didn’t need to bother with a belt or a zipper, so there was only a second between your panties being removed and the head of his cock pressed right into the folds of your pussy.

“Don’t! I’m begging, please don’t!” you wailed.

“But y-you’re wet,” he observed, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to spread your juices.

You didn’t reply fast enough; he lost patience and shoved into you with a desperate whine. It felt even better than he had imagined day after day all of this time, so he didn’t move at first to try and avoid cumming immediately. Instead, he reached for your hands, freeing them from his tail so he could weave his fingers into yours and press them into your sheets on either side of your head.

“L-look at me,” he panted, tightening his tail around your neck when you didn’t obey. “I s-said to look at me.”

It took a few seconds for you to run out of air and begin struggling to breathe, but you did eventually look at him, instantly making his heart pound. Suddenly, he felt unbearably shy, so he buried his face in your neck as he started to fuck you, slowly but insistently, his pelvis grinding up against yours like he couldn’t get deep enough inside of you, his moans muffled beside your face. Feeling your breasts jolt against him with each thrust he couldn’t help but start to fuck you a little harder, too, just to feel them bouncing beneath him.

He didn’t think to tell you when he was about to cum, since his mind was completely whiting out from the pleasure and his moans sounded frantic and irregular because he couldn’t quite control the sounds he was making, so you only knew that he was filling you when he stopped suddenly, releasing your hands to grab your hips hard enough to hurt and pull you as close into him as possible. His entire body shook against yours for a while. Once he relaxed, still panting but not digging his fingers into your flesh as hard any more, his entire frame draped over yours with exhaustion.

Ten minutes later, he finally sat up to address you, lovingly stroking your hair and cheek.

"That was so much better than in my head. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life.

“Um, I don’t think you finished, right? S-sorry, I’m…anyway, I’ll read a little more about how to satisfy you on reddit! Then I’ll show you what I learned. We have a lot of time for me to practice until I get it right. I'll definitely make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Just let me go,” you murmured, out of tears.

“I never will,” he answered, his voice so resolute that it grew steady even if for only a moment as he promised that. “I’m in l-love with you, a-and you’re going to love me. And only me, no one else. If you think of anyone else, I’ll…I’ll hurt them. And you, too.”

Perhaps you weren’t out of tears after all, as the words made you start to cry again.

This time, he pulled you upwards and wrapped you in his arms while still inside you, grateful for the opportunity to feel as though he was taking care of you. His mind was already starting to wander to plans of where you both would live, how he could punish you to make sure you never spoke to any one else again, and what he would tell his brothers and closest gaming buddies about the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Dreams really did come true. The two of you only had happily ever after in store for you.

[lilbittymonster]

Day 5: Stamp

Read on AO3

Kugane’s market district was just as vibrant as she remembered, the streamers and paper lanterns swaying in the sea-blown breeze as people milled about a well-worn memory. No one stopped her to thank her for some heroic deed or another, no one stood gawking at her from a corner in awe, she was...just another patron of the market. It was freeing in a way she hadn’t been free in a long time.

She slowed her pace, taking the time to really look at all of the stalls she was passing. A blue wooden box propped up with two bamboo brushes caught her eye and she carefully wove her way closer to inspect it.

“Finest calligraphy supplies this side of Thavnair!” boasted the saleswoman behind the counter.

“Hello, are those inks in that box, or just brushes?” Kitali asked her in Doman as she approached.

“Yes, these are both inks and brushes,” the woman smiled. “There are full colour sets here, and traditional black here.”

“Could I see the colours?” Kitali asked.

Delicately, the woman lifted the box from its place and handed it to her, cover open. Nestled inside were eight uniform sticks of various pigments, all stamped with a gold dragon. Kitali bit the inside of her cheek to hold her amusement at bay. Surely no one could accuse him of heresy should she send him these…

“How much for these?” she asked.

“For the ink and the brushes, 300 gil.”

“And this is just the ink and brushes, no stone?”

“Correct. If you would like to pick out a grinding stone as well, we have plenty to chose from. Come, see what we have over here.”

She beckoned Kitali with a hand to the other side of the stall where there were several small stones laid out, ranging from plain dishes to intricately carved dishes with fitted lids. Most were the same flat black stone, but a couple had bits of shell and wood inlaid into their design, two even having what looked like gold.

A small round dish, roughly the size of her palm, with a large crescent moon dotted with inlaid shell sat nestled between two much larger stones almost the size of tea saucers. Gingerly she plucked it from its seat, and to her delight it had an actual lid over the well. Perfect for keeping little paws from stepping into wet ink.

“How much is this one?” she asked.

The shopkeeper quickly consulted a list behind the counter. “That one? 65 gil.”

Kitali fished out her small coinpurse from a pocket and counted out her total.

“Would you like this wrapped as a gift?”

“Yes, and preferably something that can be shipped,” Kitali said as the woman pulled out a sheet of thick paper. “It’s a gift for my husband.” The word still felt so strange to speak aloud, this small secret.

“Ah, how lovely! How many years?”

Kitali thought for a moment. “By the time this reaches him, it will be one year.”

“Congratulations,” she said warmly as she plucked the box and brushes from their resting place. “He has used inks before, yes?”

Kitali shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

A small white card was plucked from a stack and placed on top of the ink box.

“Instructions for him, then. Thank you so much for your patronage, miss, do come again!”

Kitali clutched the parcel against her chest protectively as she walked off, content with her find but still taking the time to circle the markets in full. She wasn’t needed to discuss financial matters with the East Aldenard Trading Company representative. She could enjoy her homecoming in peace, however bittersweet it was.

At a leisurely pace, Kitali slowly wandered back towards the ijin district to wait for Alphinaud and Tataru to conclude their business. Lyse and Alisaie were sitting some distance off at one of the tables sharing a plate of what looked like takoyaki. Lyse noticed her coming down the stairs and waved her over, sliding over to make room on the bench.

“Ooh, what’s that?” she asked, nodding at the package.

“A gift,” Kitali said simply.

“Who’s it for?” Alisaie asked around a mouthful of dough.

“A friend in Ishgard, I promised them I’d send a souvenir,” Kitali said evasively, hoping the thinned truth would satisfy them.

It did, and their conversation turned back to wondering over the delights of the city while Kitali looked on, amused.

[cagesofgold]

jean kirstein headcanons <3

🎵 cry baby - the neighborhood 🎧

You and Jean had been friends for about a year before you confessed your feelings for each other, and for your one year anniversary, Jean’s gift, alongside the bundle of others he got you, was a notebook full of sketches he had made of you. You only found out how long he’d been drawing them when you realized that the one at the front was you sitting in the lecture where you first met.

a total plant dad. for one of your first dates he took you to a plant market and let you pick out three plants to take with you, which now sit on the windowsill in your shared apartment. (he also named all of them and speaks to them when no one’s around)

his favorite place to paint/draw is outside. in your apartment you have a relatively minuscule balcony, where he can often be found shirtless, letting paints coalesce across a canvas in the early hours.

he likes his coffee strong, will refuse to add sugar to it and tends to lean more towards savory than sweet.

he is the BEST gift giver. he is so thoughtful and will always paint you something for every birthday or gift giving occasion.

he’s very sentimental, harbors a cardboard box under his bed full of photos from high school and various nick nacks he had acquired throughout his life.

loves lamps. he likes a space to be cozy, and turning the overhead light on, to him, is the same as stabbing him in the eyes with a ten inch blade repeatedly. will whine, “noooooo” and bury his face in his arms any time you have to turn it on.

will pay for everything, wont even let you reach for your card, he’s just too fast.

is easily agitated, not by you though, mainly by Connie and Eren who always find a way to torment him on the regular. He blocks them at least four times a week.

loves the colour green. mainly darker shades, bring him a neon and he’ll act as if you’ve shot him.

is like a kid in a candy shop if you take him to an art shop, will take you by the hand and talk your ear off about different painting techniques and consistency’s of paint.

is extremely attentive. will instantly know if you are even so much as a little off. he knows you in and out and will simply ask, “listen or solution?” and will provide service on which you choose.

has a comically large phone, due to his hands. whenever he holds your phone it looks ridiculous.

his mother absolutely adores you, has a groupchat with you and jean where she frequently asks you two to come over for dinner.

he is an extremely cautious driver, this man will never be caught with a speeding ticket. this also manages to drive connie insane because of how fucking slow he is.

“i’m just being careful!”

“yeah okay, grandpa…” 💀

he loves to dance with you, arms wrapped around your waist as you sway to a gentle rhythm, him humming softly in your ear.

your apartment is extremely well decorated due to Jean’s artistic nature. he’s painted the walls, and made sure everything explodes with color. he believes beige home to be the death of interior design.

this also applies to beige babies, jean’s child will be having colorful toys and that’s that.

despite his size, he loves being little spoon. The feeling of your body heat against his spine helps him drift right off.

whenever he’s sick, no matter to what degree he always watches “singing in the rain” - it’s a comfort film to him due to his mother putting it on any time he had the flu growing up.

he adores jazz clubs. he just loves how peaceful and calming they are, and he likes to observe the different types of people who all come together to listen to the sweet hum of a saxophone. a lot of his art pieces are set in that environment.

he has a collection of hand cream. due to his career his hands constantly mirror that of a paint palette, and so, to ensure he doesn’t have cracked hands he always makes sure to moisturize them. his hands are his tools after all, in more ways than one….

you will always be his no.1 muse. a perfect day for him is letting you indulge in any hobby, read, watch tv, cook, bake, and as you do that, he’ll sketch, taking extra time on your eyes and smile. he just truly believes no landscape, no still life, and no composition will ever be as beautiful as what you can make occur on his page. <3

3 aot boy headcanons down, six to go 💋

[whumpster-fire]

Leading Thieves Say Millennials and Zoomers "Ruining the Crime Industry"

A variety of criminals have spoken out over the past few weeks, saying that crime just doesn't pay like it used to because Millennials and Gen-Z-ers are so broke, they have nothing of value to steal.

Stephen "Fingers" Gilligan, Pickpocket: Pickpocketing has been on the decline in America for a while, but it's getting ridiculous now. Nobody carries cash anymore, and even cards aren't paying out. The other day I stole a wallet with five debit cards, and all but one of them declined. The last one had just enough to buy a Sierra Mist from a vending machine. That was my second best score all week. The best was a $40 Olive Garden gift card and a crumpled, discolored $5 bill that I had to use archeological techniques to retrieve without it disintegrating in my hand.

Burt Crustman, Mugger: Man, nobody walks through dark alleys at night since the pandemic hit, and when they do? Jackshit. The only valuable anyone under 40's got on them these days is their phone. Admittedly lotsa people have $3000 phones, but you know what the market for fencing iPhones is like? It's shit! Everybody's buying new phones because their phone's the only nice thing they can afford!

Monty Derailleur, Bike Thief: Well the bike theft business would be going good, if people ever used the bikes they bought. The sales are high, but the fact of the matter is, the bike lanes around here are shitty or nonexistent, there's no room to take them on the bus, and there's no bike racks so everybody knows it's gonna get stolen.

Jerry Rigby, Car Thief: I don't know what you're talking about, Grand Theft Auto is booming. There's $75,000 pickups, $60,000 SUVs, $100,000 Teslas, and most people can't even afford to buy a used car legally so fencing's never been easier. The reason it's hard for those of us in the business is twofold. First, too many people living out of their cars. Second, the competition. You see a nice car parked somewhere, you gotta be on it like that, or the fucking illegal towing rackets will beat you to it. It's nearly impossible to make a living as an independent car thief.

Dwayne Pipe, Burglar: The only reason to be breaking and entering in the post-Pandemic years if to use somebody's shower. I swear to god, half the time when I break into a place, the only furniture is a mattress on the floor and a mid-sized computer monitor as a TV, and those are only good for scrap because with planned obsolescence the way it is, they have a life expectancy of about 6 weeks after theft. To be honest with you, I'm running a loss on most jobs. The only reason I haven't gone straight is because all the legal jobs pay jackshit too. That, and I really like replacing people's family photos with pictures of Nicholas Cage.

Brittlyghn McKannyck, Shoplifter: Shoplifting these days is a hobby, not a career. Half the time the stores are too understaffed to even stock the shelves, and if they're not, everything's locked up. I had to get a guy to unlock a magnetic tag on a box of Crispix the other day. If I didn't live with my parents, there's absolutely no way shoplifting full time would be viable.

Norman Gore, Master Hacker and Identity Thief: Scamming people out of their financial info or cracking passwords has never been easier, but the scores just aren't worth it. I keep getting into bank accounts that pending overdraft fees. It's pathetic. I have to leave the lights off so my hacker den's only lit by the monitors, and type on three or four keyboards at once to hack enough people to make ends meet.

Jack Gazebo, Digital Pirate: Oh my fucking God, people, stop paying for streaming! Learn to torrent! I'm telling you, man, this generation just doesn't have the technological literacy to pirate media.

Captain Tom Stillcutt, Analog Pirate: Let me tell ye something, matey, it be a sad day for piracy. No more galleons laden low with gold doubloons, rum, and exotic spices, nay, it be all scurvy container ships full o' mass produced plastic now. Me last prize was a forty foot container loaded full of over a hundred thousand Funko Pops, en route from the East Indies. The worst part of it was as the cap'n I gets a double share o' the booty, whether I want it or not. I've been makin' one walk the plank every day, and my cabin's still full of the blasted things. Shiver my timbers, I hate these damned Zoomers! At least the ones in me crew are happy.

Geraldo Cardamom IV, Gentleman Thief: The economy's just horrible for heists these days. Art heists? Jewelry theft? All the rich idiots are blowing their money on crypto, NFTs, and custom furniture from hipster woodworking YouTubers. Nobody just has a gallery in their house with priceless antiques in glass cases below a conveniently placed skylight, or millions of dollars in cash and gold bullion in vaults behind secret doors with seven different elaborate locking mechanisms anymore. Nobody secures their valuables with networks of criss crossing laser motion sensors. The only guys with that kind of money are assholes like Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk, and they don't have the sense of style for that. They just hire a bunch of assholes with guns.

Carmen San Diego, Legend: You must be joking, right? The reason I retired is because the infrastructure in this country is so dilapidated it's impossible to move it without it disintegrating. My last heist was "stealing" the World's Largest Pothole in Lansing, Michigan. I lifted the entire six lane wide, fifteen foot deep pothole out of the ground, disassembled it, and shipped it across the country to a warehouse in Las Vegas, then filled in the hole with pristine asphalt so it looked like it was never there. Nobody investigated. Nobody came after me. The city threw a parade in my honor. It didn't even take a month before my record holding pothole was dethroned by one in Cleveland, leaving me with nothing but a bunch of dirt, crumbling asphalt, and broken dreams. That's when I realized it was time to call it quits. Well, maybe the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid, but it already looks stupid enough in the middle of Tennessee that the only way stealing it would be funny is if I put it in the original Memphis.

[naisilla]

The Emperor's New Muse Part .6

Odyssey Kayn x Reader

content: Shopping Trip, Saving Jinx, Talking to Sona, Kayn plots something...

That night was quite odd. You had finally poured your heart out about the many years of pain, suffering, and struggle you faced. You found a sense of understanding and comfort in sharing this with someone 

After touching down and porting you could finally exit the ship along with the rest of the crew. You had arrived at a planet abundant in markets and by the looks of the large crates that Malphite was carrying they were going to cash in whatever was inside.

Jinx was skipping ahead of the group, carefree and eager to look around the shops most likely for some more unstable weapons to add to her needlessly large collection. Curious to know you look to Yasuo who walks calmly yet confidently to your left.

"So....what's in the box?"

"Harvested Hydraxal Super Squid organs."

"Oh.....nice"

Yasuo chuckles. "They sell for a high price which helps us to keep running". You nod and watch as Yasuo and Malphite split off from the rest. "Feel free to look around the markets with Jinx and Sona, women love shopping right?" You playfully send Yasuo a death glare.

"I wouldn't know, I've never had enough credits for shopping". The tone in your voice is sarcastic. With a smirk on his face, Yasuo throws a small object towards you which you manage to catch with your fast reflexes.

"What is this?" You ask inspecting the slender card.

"I am putting you in charge of our money"

You stare back at Yasuo shocked. "What!? Why me??"

"Because I can't trust Jinx with it for obvious reasons-"

"Last time I maxed out our card on buying an 85" ft tall inflatable duck," Jinx says appearing next to you to whisper in your ear. "It's still floating out there in the Valoran Galaxy".

Yasuo groans remembering that previous endeavor. "Just keep an eye on Jinx and stick with Sona, feel free to buy yourself any essentials now that you're one of us," Yasuo says giving you a nod before joining back up with Malphite as the two head down the alleyway with the more exotic stalls.

The stalls were crowded by diverse alien shoppers, all going about their business. You found yourself having to strategically weave through the horde, trying to keep up with Jinx who was constantly on the verge of escaping your line of sight.

While you were uncomfortably having to squeeze through the crowd, Sona had the sea of people parting to let her through. Of course they let the pretty one through without a second thought. You push on forward, keeping your eyes on the bright locks of orange hair that bounce ahead.

"Jinx! Wait up!" you yell trying to be heard over the loud atmosphere of the markets. But of course either Jinx couldn't hear or couldn't give a shit. Letting out a frustrated sigh you slow down your advances.

Jinx can look after herself, it wasn't like she could drain the crew's entire credit account without you. She's been here before many times most likely, you'd just have to trust she knew her way around. What's the worst that can happen.

Sometimes foreshadowing is relatively obvious.

You take a moment to stop and look around. Stalls were packed tightly together each one of them decorated with bright colors, some displayed clothing, others jewelry, weapons, and food. You found yourself eyeing the stalls displaying racks of clothes. You were still stuck wearing that outfit Kayn had gifted you and you hated it. You hated how you were still tied to the Ordinal and therefore the empire.

Jinx had offered you her spare clothes when you first officially joined the crew, but not only were you the wrong size, but she only had one spare outfit and despite her being persistent you weren't going to do that to her.

Your hand runs through the hanging articles of clothing, browsing through as you try to find something nice but practical enough for your style. Sona who stood next to you also was examining the front table with various folded tops, carefully picking one to hold out in front of her, then delicately folding it perfectly, and neatly placing it back.

It felt odd, being given the freedom to buy something nice for yourself. You felt an uneasy pressure burden your chest. It felt so rude to spend someone else's money on yourself like this, sure you were given the all clear but the guilt made it feel so illegal.

Your attention snaps to a commotion somewhere in the distance, aggressive voices rising in volume. A crowd is forming a few stalls away. Intrigued, you strain to see what's going on at the center and notice the all-too-familiar orange locks of hair. Dammit Jinx!

It was only a matter of time before she managed to get herself into trouble. A part of you wants to stay out of this, but you do feel somewhat responsible for her actions.

Jinx was trapped in the center of a crowd, backed up against a weapons stall where a broken gun lay on the display table. "You broke it you buy it." Lectured the gruff voice of the merchant, a burly older man with scars tattooing his skin.

"I barely even touched that crusty gun! That thing was already broken!" Jinx snapped back, standing her ground against the towering shopkeeper. The sight reminiscent of a chihuahua barking off at a mastiff.

You squeeze your way through the crowd once again and approach the two. The cruel glare of the merchant snaps to you and his upper lip pulls back in a snarl. "Back off Missy, this ain't ya business". His voice warned you to back off, and usually you would. Back in Zaun, you took no interest outside of your own business. If there was ever a commotion you keep your head down, eyes lowered, and walk away.

You can't help but feel frustrated at how often she acts irresponsibly. Why was she always throwing herself at the first sight of trouble? She's always destroying something with her insane antics. That's all she does, she ruins things, it's what she loves. You were ready to just pay upfront and bullshit some apologetic angel personality when you looked at Jinx. Her eyes, they trembled. Her eyebrows were furrowed and the tone in her voice was meek. Jinx was always shameless when she broke something, but this time she was denying it, she was being honest.

Your head lifts itself up so your eyes can meet his in a defiant stare. "Leave her alone she didn't break it". The merchant twists his bulky frame to face you. "You didn't see shit bitch stop acting like a hero because you ain't one." Your eyes dart to the broken gun.

"How did she break it?"

"I didn't break it y/n, I only picked it up. It was too weak in firepower anyways, I could tell from its cartridge chamber, so I put it back and was going to check out the next stall when Mr Judge Judy over here yelled at me to pay for it. I turned around and now it's in pieces, I swear I didn't do that!"

"You lying brat! yes you did! I saw it with my own eyes! Stupid bitch handled it too roughly then slammed it onto my table causing it to fall apart!"

You walk over to closely investigate the gun, it was a simple pistol with most of its core parts snapped off. "How does a top quality gun shatter with a bit of handling?" You point out tiny cut marks along where each piece broke away. "Did she do this too? These marks look suspiciously like a knife being used to purposely separate these pieces." Gesturing to Jinx you add "My teammate here doesn't possess any kind of blade."

To prove herself Jinx lifts her arms and pulls out the inner fabric of her pockets emptying them of random junk like bottle caps, coins, and lint. Not a single blade in sight. "You know me y/n I don't do knives, guns are my style".

With a confident smile you turn back to the shop owner, now aware of the decorative knives that hang on the wall behind him along with a handy tactical knife sheathed in his belt. "If you are willing to throw accusations then I'd like to suggest that maybe you purposely broke a dupe gun you swapped with the original to frame unassuming customers into paying for it?"

On a whim, you reach over the table and fish around behind. The Merchant is taken by surprise by your bold intrusive move and isn't able to react in time before you reel back with a perfectly intact gun in your hand. The original.

With the evidence shown before the crowd of onlookers, the shop owner sputters before snarling. "That's just another gun! She broke the original one!" You glare back.

"That's bullshit and you know it!"

The merchant slams his large hands onto his bench causing everything on it to jump. "You've been enough trouble here!" He pulls out a large gun aiming it at you.

Jinx jumps in without hesitation and whips out Zappy. "Don't worry y/n! I've got this!" With a smug smirk, Jinx pulls the trigger....nothing happens. Instantly her smile is wiped from her face. "Uh oh"

BANG, the merchants gun lets off a powerful round and the crowd disperses, scattering instantly. You grab Jinx and dive behind one of the stalls. You are stunned and taken off guard by the sudden escalation of the conflict. In the corner of your eye, you see Sona duck down and cover her ears as the gunshot pierces your ears. The sudden flash and bang causes your heart to skip a beat.

"What are you doing!? Run!" Jinx yells, jumping to her feet and grabbing at your arm. She pulls you up and takes off racing further down the market aisles. You get dragged along struggling to not trip under your own legs. Shit wheres Sona!? You look over your shoulder, Sona isn't following, you can't see her anywhere. She must've gotten lost. As for the merchant, it seems you lost him too.

You drag your heels forcing Jinx to slow down. "We're safe Jinx" You tell her pulling back against her grip on you, forcing her to stop. Jinx is huffing as the adrenaline wears off. "Holy heck y/n you actually saved me!" You scoff.

"That gun was pointed at me too". Jinx ignores that and interrupts you with a hug, hanging off your neck in an act of personal space invasion. You are forced to support her from falling by wrapping your arms around her back.

"You saved meee~" Jinx giggles looking up at you with a cheerful and slightly crazed look. "You must like me~". You immediately let go of her causing her to fall onto her butt with an oof.

From around a corner comes Yasuo, Malphite, and Sona. Looks like the templar went out to get the captain. Yasuo approaches you with an impressed expression. "You actually managed to handle Jinx for an hour". You scoff and roll your eyes. Jinx, gets up and runs over to Malphite who looks relieved to see she's ok. You watch as he places two of his large blue hands on her shoulders. "You not hurt?" Jinx shakes her head, her pigtails swooshing with the motion. "Nah big guy I got away" Jinx assures him.

Malphite undeterred looks over the human anyway, carefully moving her to inspect for any injuries. He was so gentle with her, it was a complete contrast to the brutal beast you were used to seeing in a fight. Satisfied with Jinx's wellbeing Malphite smiles and pulls her into a hug. "I'm happy Jinx safe!" It was a sweet moment between two friends.

"Well we got our paycheck from our organ harvest," Yasuo says looking at you.

"Oh yeh? How much profit did you make?" You ask curiously.

"one million credits-"

"ONE MILLION CREDITS!?" Yasuo chuckles at your astonishment.

"Told ya they sell for a fortune."

You've never heard about so much credits being made from one trip, you could barely make 290 credits a week on your minimum wage job back in Zaun. Damn, you should've become a space pirate ages ago.

Yasuo notices how neither you, Jinx or Sona has yet to buy something. No thanks to Jinx's antics. "Looks like we still have to stock up on supplies."

Back on the Morningstar everyone had returned after a thankfully uneventful shopping trip. The ship was refueled on ora, the kitchen was restocked with food allowing you to finally move on with your journey.

And finally, you had your own basic wardrobe of your own clothes along with all your own essential living needs. For the first time in forever, you got to revel in a hot shower. Washing off the collective grime of the last few days, you finally felt renewed and fresh.

Compared to your old life this was luxury, you felt like you were getting royal treatment how ironic that all of this was considered normal living standards.

There were times you shocked the members with how different you were. Yasuo didn't believe you when you mentioned you'd never seen a movie before as you'd only read books, especially to help you learn to speak Piltrovan and Demaxian. You simply never could afford a tv to watch such trivial things on.

Jinx had to teach you how to play gaming consoles which you must admit was the most fun you'd ever had. It got so confusing learning the different button mechanics between consoles but after you got the hang of it you enjoyed spending time with everyone playing games like Mario Kart, Street Fighter, and Just Dance.

Over time you quickly adapted to modern technology. However, there was still an undercurrent of tension regarding the subject of the empire.

You were still being hunted by Kayn and eventually, you would be found and when that happened it was going to be a dire situation. Sona was in a lot of danger of being recaptured by the locus armada and after experiencing what Kayn had done to you when pissed off you were terrified for Sona.

Speaking of Sona, she still remained a mystery to you. Since joining the Morning Star the templar has yet to properly speak to you. She was the quiet type to begin with mostly communicating through hand gestures and nodding. But not a word had been spoken aloud to you in person.

You wondered why so was so quiet to the point of being mute, was it trauma? was it just how she is? was there some sort of medical issue? It would be rude to ask.

Currently Sona was once again looking out of the window, far beyond the space outside. Seemingly lost in thought. Timidly you approach the templar and join her in staring out into the cosmos beyond the glass.

There's a silence that lingers between the two of you, one that comes as a soothing space from the usual chaos and noise from being with the other members. Despite being in a normally awkward situation you felt calm and relaxed just chilling next to Sona.

When Kayn does come it'll be up to you to save everyone. Your inner feelings of hesitation and doubt are overwhelming. You could either choose to face Kayn head-on and attempt to appeal to his humanity, which may very well be impossible at this point. Or you could confiscate the darkin weapon, hoping that Rhaast wouldn't corrupt him further. Or you could do the deed yourself, and attempt to end the threat before it truly starts.

The clock is still ticking, and you feel an urgency to make a choice soon. However, given the situation, you can't truly say what's the right decision to take...

You know you've come a very long way, this is a far cry from being beaten mercilessly and raped in the fractal shear as you were when you were still being held hostage by Kayn. You now have a chance to save lives and redeem yourself.

You take your eyes away from the universe and back to Sona. Her tranquil eyes remain fixed on the distant star ahead. She is a calming presence, one that makes you feel safe and protected. You cannot help but feel like this is where you are meant to be, at home, watching the stars, and not worrying about all the other issues plaguing your world.

"Why won't Jarvan act? All it would take is a single decree."

Sona's voice was like a silvery echo within your mind, it took your breath away, because her voice was actually in your head, she was communicating to you telepathically. Of course she can, she's magical.

"The Empire's King has ignored the objections of my Templar's Order, laying claim to almost all inhabited systems in their pursuit of Ora. Their greed fuels their gluttony."

"Tell me about it".

Sona's golden eyes transfix onto yours.

"I see your pain, the rage you hold against the empire...I too resent the empire for what they've done.

The Empire never respected the Templar Order, we were seen as religious fanatics. They left us alone until the day the lure called us. A voice speaking from beyond the ring clusters of empty planets.

I was in some caves with a group of other templars, we were investigating the source of the lure. For we saw frightening visions of the universe being consumed by dark stars.

Whatever was out there was the root of evil and it was important that we as guardians of Ora do whatever it takes to protect the universe.

Before we could find out what the lure was the locus armada arrived along with other parties that were all drawn to the voice like ourselves.

They shackled us and beaten a few of my people, and some even extracted the ora-derived bio-enhancements, brutally tearing them from our bodies. We became prisoners to the Ordianal Sheida Kayn, he interrogated us. I remember him placing a gun onto our Leader Korobak's forehead, when he defied the Ordinal's questioning, he switched his aim onto me.

That’s the imperialist mentality. They threaten us. They brutalized us. Then they prepared to kill us.

Yet despite that, I said nothing. That way the empire would get nothing, I was prepared to pass through the Ora Gate with the blessing of all Templars, and the satisfaction of knowing He had been defied.

I was spared, but I was taken hostage and I would've been trapped within the locus armada if it wasn't for the rebel group that broke me out. Unfortunately, the man who escorted me to my freedom was killed by the Ordinal..."

As she speaks, you can't help but feel the weight of her words. You see the empire from her perspective, a warmongering nation hellbent on its greed and domination. It takes a strong will to oppose such overwhelming power, and Sona has made her stance perfectly clear.

"Do you think the empire can be stopped?" you ask her.

"I don't know." Sona's words carried a tinge of hopelessness.

"The Empire has the strength to take any territory by force, and they have, the Demaxian Empire has succeeded with barely a fraction of planet systems left to stand independent.

I believe a greater conflict is on the horizon. The empire's expansion is relentless but only an inconvenience to the cataclysmic threat that Rhaast and his puppet Kayn bring to the universe.

There will be the day of reckoning that the Ora gates open and whatever abysmal entities lurk beyond will come into our world and plague it with darkness."

You shake your head in denial "We're not letting that happen Sona. We can stop Kayn."

Sona continues to look sullen not persuaded by your determination and returns to look out of the window...

Somewhere across the universe the Fractal Shear prowls in orbit. Kayn stands proudly facing the grand window, staring out into the vast abstractness of stars and nebulas.

Despite his calm and confident composure, the Ordinal was tense. His left arm discreetly grips his scythe impatiently, fingers wrapping then unwrapping themselves around the handle.

"The Morningstar continues to elude you Kayn."

"I don't see you helping in tracking those troublesome little rats".

"I'm the scythe, all I do is help".

Kayn scoffs, scowling at his reflection in the glass. "Whatever I don't need you to rule the universe."

"Then why can't you put me down".

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Kayn strides away from the window, towards the command center. Various hologram monitors display the last known sightings of the Morningstar, just seeing the faces of the crew was infuriating to the Ordinal.

His fist slams down onto the table with a harsh thud, the hologram flickers for a moment.

"Dammit! It's been four months and I still haven't retrieved the Templar!"

Kayn's lips pull back in a seething sneer, his singular eye twitches uncontrollably.

"With the Templar allied with the Morningstar crew, there comes the chance that they will open the ora gate first."

"They are unworthy of unlocking the secrets of the ora gate, there's no way Sona would actually reveal the key to Captain Yasuo."

"Sona sought him out specifically after escaping your interrogation, perhaps he is more complex than we had realized".

"That drunken loser? He barely qualifies as a Captian, Yasuo was a nobody before I framed him for the gruesome murder of Yone".

"Ahh yes the mercenary that broke the Templar free".

"And the brother of this space pirate wannabe, it'll be poetic when I kill him next." Kayn regains his calm composure and brings up files of collected data of each Morningstar crew member; Yasuo, Sona, Jinx, Malphite, and you.

Kayn sharply inhales when he looks at your file. How humiliating, you had completely fooled him when you first met. Not only were you capable at matching him in combat but you were working for the wretched Morningstar the whole time.

He allowed you to escape him. To Kayn you were just some rebel wannabe, someone who was barely an inconvenience to an empire. But you were more than that, you were a spy. You snuck through the Locus Armadas guard, took on an unassuming facade, and fooled them all. And he let you free.

You could've gotten away with obtaining crucial knowledge about his army. He let you sit in the control center without being blindfolded or restrained, He led you into his personal chambers, He even-

"Damn that deceiving vixen! When I get to that bitch I'l-"

"Fuck her brutally like you did last time?" Rhaast's crude insinuation causes Kayn to stop and glare at the scythe. The anger in his eye is palpable, and it's clear he is furious with Rhaast's comment.

He can't believe that he allowed you to deceive him like that, to get the best of him.

He can't handle the humiliation.

"Shut up, damn it!" he yells. Rhaast lets out a dark laugh, enjoying every bit of the heated exchange and taunting the Ordinal.

Kayn is a master at suppressing his anger and hiding it under the cool exterior of control, but since you came along he's been losing his grip and it infuriated him.

He needed to become stronger, Kayn was now determined to grow bigger as a threat that there would be no chance he could lose again.

"If I am to unlock my latent powers through the ora gate I will need to devote more time to hunting the Morningstar and I need to improve my current abilities."

The Ordinal takes his scythe and walks out of the command centre, passing by his elite soldiers who nod at him with respect. None of them aware that their Ordinal openly talks to what they perceive to be an inanimate scythe.

With supreme confidence, Kayn marches through the fractal shear, descending deeper and deeper into the ship. He approaches a door at the end of a barren hallway, out of view of both personal and security alike.

Only Kayn can unlock this door and after scanning his left eye the panel clicks and slides open allowing the Ordinal entrance. Inside is a dim room, thick mist creeps along the floor and an electric hum is all that resonates inside.

Once stepping in everything becomes illuminated, the walls and ceilings are lined with pipes that run along each other in intricate patterns. At the centre of it all is a podium with a glass case, a chamber, full of golden essence.

"Is that?-"

"Pure, raw ora. My personal stash." Kayn walks over towards it standing before the chamber watching in suppressed awe as the ora inside reacts to his presence. It warps and flows, collecting itself as if attracted to the Ordinal...or his scythe.

He grabs onto a tube that is plugged into the machine and pulls it out, the tendril releasing with a forced hiss in his hand. Kayn brings it to his bio-enhanced arm. The gold armored appendage clicking as a panel shifts, revealing an interface with an opening for the hose to attach to.

"Kayn, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing Rhaast?"

"But, you're King... I thought he forbid such things."

"You and I both know that King Jarvan has grown weak, his apprehension is what holds this empire back. Unlike him I take risks, unlike him I have what it takes to progress and unlike him I act".

Kayn plugs the tube into his arm connecting himself to the ora chamber, the pressure releases, and immediately the ora begins to pump itself into Kayn's arm.

The Ordinal lets out a pained growl but doesn't cease the procedure, he grips onto the top of the chamber to keep himself upright. His body tenses as more and more ora is introduced into his system. Sweat accumulates across his brow and his teeth bare with the pain. Rhaast can only watch on with intrigue...

Part Seven: Here

[lorna-d-m]

Gingerbread

Word Count: 4,870

Rating: E

Warning: wine drinking, swearing, breast play, some dry humping

Author's Note: happy thanksgiving! Now that it's passed I can officially say: Merry Christmas y'all! Timeline wise, this takes place between chapters six and seven.

Alice missed the days of elementary school when the last day before winter break was reserved for nostalgic movies, hot chocolate, and wearing your pajamas to school. Instead, students completed their end-of-term exams. Instead of relaxing, kicking up her feet and putting on a movie, she graded first periods’ exams during second, and so on and so on. Those who finished before the end of the period could read or study for another exam. 

Stevie approached her desk, and she looked up assuming he had a question about the exam. Instead, he handed her a small envelope and whispered so quietly she could hardly hear him, “Merry Christmas, Ms. Greene”. Stevie turned on his heels and returned to his desk.

Curiosity piqued, Alice examined the envelope. She would recognize Stevie’s handwriting, so she assumed it must be Laszlo who scrawled her name on the front of the envelope. Alice noted the fancy stationery: the thick off-white envelope with a red wax seal. 

It was a simple but elegant Christmas card depicting a winter scene. Before she read it, she looked at the gift card tucked inside. It was for her favorite coffee chain and $15, plenty for two drinks or a drink and a snack. Inside the card, Laszlo wrote a brief thank you, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays. He signed, as well as Stevie. 

Stevie watched her open the card. Not wanting to distract any students or draw too much attention, Alice mouthed thank you to him. She wondered if any other of Stevie’s teachers received a card. When she checked her phone at lunch, Bits answered her question. 

Nice Christmas gifts from the good doc 🎄🎁 I’m assuming you’ll get more than a card from him? 😏😉

Alice chuckled, knowing all the innuendos Bitsy meant with a simple wink and smirk emoji combination. They made plans for Saturday when Stevie was supposed to be hanging out at a friend’s house.

Oh hush you 🤫A lady doesn’t kiss and tell

She went back to grading, worrying if the gifts she bought him were enough. Saying he was difficult to shop for felt like a lame excuse, but Alice couldn’t think of anything else to get him. Unless… well she supposed it was more of a purchase for her, but he would certainly appreciate it.

Laszlo deliberated for two days about what to cook for dinner. It was not his first time cooking for Alice, but it was his first time in his kitchen amongst all his tools and familiarity. The expectations were higher. He wanted to do something delicious for her, showing her how much he cared for her. Once decided, he went to the markets in the morning. It was his guilty pleasure. Laszlo enjoyed carefully perusing all his options and leisurely strolling around. He could never stick to a list; he always bought things he didn’t need but decided at the moment he wanted. 

He returned, carefully holding a brown paper grocery bag to his chest. Stevie stood over the stove, cooking a late-morning breakfast of eggs and toast. Laszlo had to tease him as he slipped into a winter break sleep schedule. 

“Good morning. Any later and I would tell you good afternoon.” 

“Ha ha,” Stevie laughed dryly. “I’ve never heard that one before.” 

Laszlo unpacked his groceries and handed a party-size bag of chips to Stevie. “For tonight,” Laszlo thought it rude to go to someone’s house emptyhanded. “Do you need a ride or is Jake picking you up?”

“He said he’d pick me up at like four, and then…” Stevie trailed off, but Laszlo waited expectedly. “I was going to ask you how late I could stay.”

Curfew was, Laszlo didn’t like to call it a debate, but a matter of discussion. On school nights Laszlo stuck to 9:30, wanting Stevie home at a reasonable time. On weekends, however, he was more flexible. So long as Stevie was transparent about his plans, telling him where he wanted to go and who he would be with, Laszlo was willing to adjust the time. 

Laszlo trusted Stevie and he had yet to disappoint him, but for emergencies and peace of mind, they had each other’s location shared on their phones. It went both ways, Laszlo could see if Stevie was at school, home, or a friend’s house, and Stevie could see if he was at the university, the Institute, the police station, or the courts. As a show of faith, Laszlo told him he would only check if he had a legitimate concern or cause. He had yet to check, knock on wood. 

And of course, if Laszlo coincidentally had plans with Alice the same night, then perhaps Stevie could stay with his friends a bit longer.

“That depends,” Laszlo huffed a sigh in thought, “Will he be dropping you off, or will I pick you up?” 

Stevie didn’t bother to plate his food or sit at the table. He stood at the counter, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a piece of sourdough toast with his wooden spoon. At least he didn’t create many dishes… Stevie answered with a mouthful, “He can drop me off.” 

Perfect. “How does eleven sound then? Take it as an early Christmas present.” Then Laszlo could enjoy more time with Alice. “And text me when you’re on your way back.” That way they had a reminder when she needed to leave. 

“Thanks!” Stevie was a quick eater, a result of his childhood, and already he finished his breakfast. After cleaning the few dishes he used, he went back to his room.

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line in focus. It was an unconscious habit as she piped details on gingerbread cookies in royal icing: delicate buttons to the little men, twinkling lights on the trees, and fine lines on the snowflakes. Flour and icing smeared her cheek and dusted her clothes, and she was sweating from the residual heat of the oven. 

The timer on her phone startled her, making her smear the line of the snowflake. She cursed and set the cookie aside. Alice didn’t want to give Laszlo an ugly cookie. And, she sighed while brushing away an errant lock of hair, she didn’t want to look like an ugly cookie either. The timer reminded her to step back and start getting ready.

After hearing Laszlo had no Christmas plans, other than little celebrations with Stevie since John and Sara were on a much-needed vacation, Alice wanted to make sure their night was perfect. She debated what to wear, settling on a red low-cut sweater and a tight skirt. Classic, but enticing, and she could show off one of her gifts for Laszlo.

***

Alice parked on the street and waited in her toasty car. It was her first time visiting Laszlo’s house. She pulled out her phone, and rather than text Laszlo that she arrived, she typed a message for Bitsy.

Oh shit. He’s rich rich 💰

Bitsy responded quickly. oh??? 👀👀That’s good because you need to marry rich you’re a teacher

She took a picture of the front of the brownstone house and sent it. That should tell Bitsy all she needed to know. Then, she texted Laszlo that she had arrived. Taking a deep breath in, she left the coziness of her car and braved the cold night air. 

The front door was off street level; it was up a set of stairs. Alice was careful, her hand gliding over the railing as she ascended them. The last thing she wanted was to slip on icy steps: embarrassing herself and ruining her hard work that afternoon or Laszlo’s gifts. Before she could knock on the old brass knocker or ring the decorative doorbell, Laszlo opened the door. 

He radiated warmth, and not just because of the heat escaping the house. Laszlo wore a white apron over his clothes, a lock of hair fell across his forehead, his sleeve was rolled up, and he smelled like the delicious food he cooked. It made Alice’s stomach growl and her heart flutter. 

“Please, come in. You can put your coat there,” he gestured to a coat rack in the corner of the vestibule and took the platter of cookies from her hands, “and I can take these to the kitchen.”

He had a vestibule and a foyer beyond that. Alice knew he had money, but she did not realize how much until she saw his home. She shed her coat, and she caught Laszlo’s eyes appreciating the neckline of her sweater just as she intended. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t quite finished, but please, feel free to wait in the parlor and nibble on the cheese board while I return downstairs.”

“Your kitchen is downstairs?” Alice almost asked “you have a parlor?” but that was a less pressing matter.

Laszlo chuckled. “Yes, it’s an old house, so the garage, kitchen, and ironically Stevie’s room are all street level. I promise I won’t be long.”

“Good,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m hungry and I’ll miss you.” 

His cheeks flushed, and he kissed her properly. “Then I won’t keep you waiting.” He disappeared down the stairs, readjusting the apron tied around his waist. Alice admired his ass as he left. 

Alice did as Laszlo suggested and wandered to the parlor. She nibbled on a cracker with brie and thinly sliced apple while she surveyed the room. A heavy, ornate fireplace warmed the room, and she relished its heat. Her sweater and skirt did little to keep her warm. Alice noticed there were no pictures on the mantle, just a television mounted on the wall. It was one of the fancy ones disguised as a landscape painting, complete with a gilded frame. 

Two bookshelves bookended the fireplace, and Alice skimmed through the titles. Some she recognized, like classic novels, whereas the psychological essays and journals were far from her realm of familiarity. Where did he find the time to read, she mused. A record player nestled in the corner, made to look like a vintage gramophone, filled the room with traditional Christmas music. Alice hummed along to the familiar song. Laszlo was a maximalist, filling his home with as much as he could in his eclectic style.

Alice heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so she went to the formal dining room. As she wondered how often Laszlo and Stevie ate there, he answered her silent question.

“We rarely use it, but I wanted tonight to be special.” 

“Please, let me help you,” she offered. Laszlo held a heavy tray laden with plates and bowls with one hand.

“There’s no need,” he insisted, setting it on the table.  “It’s part of why we don’t use the dining room very often.”

“I can imagine, but it looks lovely, Laszlo.” He dressed up the space with formal dinnerware and linens. He lit a candelabra on the table, and pitchers of water and bottles of wine waited to be poured. 

“Thank you.” He blushed again, clearly unused to praise. Alice wanted to make the tinge of pink darker. 

“You’ve put in so much effort, and I appreciate it. You’ve made tonight special and memorable, and we’ve barely begun.” 

Laszlo returned downstairs for the rest of the meal, and Alice stole a glance at what he brought up already. A basket of dinner rolls, small bowls of soup, and salads. This was meant to be the appetizer, and she wondered eagerly what the main course could be. With perfect timing, he brought the entrée: roasted vegetables, seared duck breast with a red wine sauce, and creamy mashed potatoes. 

Once everything was settled on the table, Laszlo could settle himself. He removed his apron revealing a white button-up and a Christmas-themed waistcoat: dark green with white detailing and gold buttons. Laszlo pulled out her seat for her, and then he poured them both a glass of water and a glass of red wine.  

“Please, enjoy. There’s plenty.” He offered her the basket of warm dinner rolls glistening with butter.

Laszlo was an excellent cook, and she was excited to try it. He waited until she tasted it and smiled before he ate anything.  

Over dinner, they reminisced on past Christmases: best presents, worst presents, family drama, vacations. Alice thought long and hard about the best present she ever received and decided it must have been when she got a Barbie dreamhouse. She knew what it was as soon as she saw the gigantic wrapped box by the tree, but her parents made her wait until the end to unwrap it. Laszlo smiled saying he had something similar happen when his parents bought the baby grand piano for the parlor.

“Do you play?” She noticed it, but the keys were covered and the music books were nowhere in sight. If he did, he left no clues. 

“No,” he frowned, “not since I was a young boy.”

Alice didn’t want to upset him, so she did not press it. She found it odd since he was the one who mentioned the piano, to begin with, but this was a happy night. From then on, Laszlo was more inclined to listen to her than share his memories. 

Alice insisted upon helping him clean up after the meal, and Laszlo found it hard to refuse her. He enjoyed simply being near her, and he admitted it was easier with an extra set of hands. Laszlo rinsed the dishes from dinner while Alice unloaded the dishwasher. 

“I wasn’t sure about making Christmas cookies,” Alice confessed.

Laszlo raised an eyebrow in playful alarm. “Why ever not? Your cookies are delectable.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m a one trick pony. You’ve had my cookies before at open house and the conferences, so I thought I should show you something new.”

“But they’re delicious, and I presume gingerbread to fit the season. I’ve not tasted those.”

“Which is why I went with it. You can really only do gingerbread this time of year. But I think next time, I’ll make something totally different.”

“I look forward to it.” Since his hands were covered with soapy water, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Speaking of dessert, do you want it now or do you want to wait?”

Alice smirked. “Well, if dessert is a real kiss, I want it now.” 

How could he refuse? Laszlo kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Alice pinned him against the counter, and since her hands were dry she ran them through his hair and rested them at the back of his neck. Laszlo leaned into her touch.

Abruptly, Alice ended their kiss. She stayed close to him, pressed to him. “But if dessert is the cookies, they can wait until we’re watching a movie on the couch.” Laszlo hardly understood what she said. He was too distracted by the way Alice kissed him. She giggled, clearly amused by his love-drunk expression, and smiled. “Come on,” she teased, “let’s finish this up.” Laszlo did not need any more encouragement. 

***

They set out all their gifts on the coffee table along with the platter of cookies and two mugs of hot chocolate. Laszlo insisted on preparing it for them, his recipe using dark chocolate and rich milk to create the most decadent drink. Stevie preferred the instant Swiss Miss powder, no doubt due to his unrefined palette, and Alice surprised Laszlo by asking for a sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg. Curious, he had to try it for himself.

Alice shivered once on the couch, so Laszlo found the red knit blanket he kept in the living room and draped it over her shoulders. She looked comfortable like she belonged there.

“Can I go first?” Alice volunteered, “My gifts for you require a little bit of explanation.”

“Well now you must. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

She handed him one slim box, one wrapped present that could only be a book by its shape and size, and a flat, rectangular box. All were wrapped in delicate blue and white snowflake wrapping paper and finished with silver bows. Laszlo reached for the smallest box first. He tore the paper at the tape and lifted the lid from the box. It was a black and gold fountain pen, weighted in his hand.

“It’s supposed to be smear proof. All the reviews said it was left hand certified.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” He reached for the book next, sliding his thumb under the edge of the wrapping paper. It was a well-read, well-loved paperback copy of her favorite book. Laszlo glanced at her before skimming through the pages. 

“We talked about books before, and how a person’s favorite book can tell you a lot about them, so I thought I would give you my favorite filled with all my thoughts and annotations.” It was a deeply personable gift. Laszlo was shocked, and he immediately tried to give it back to her. “I already bought myself another copy, please, keep it.”

The final present was a rich golden-colored cable knit sweater. Laszlo held it up, modeling what it would look like, and he saw her eyes light up. He would have to wear more gold…

“I had to guess your size, so I put the receipt in the box in case you need to return it or exchange it. But I thought the gold would suit you, and I see I was right.”

“Thank you, darling.” He kissed her cheek again. Laszlo enjoyed seeing her cheeks flush whenever he did. “It’s all so thoughtful.”

“Technically,” Alice said with a sly grin, “there’s one more gift, but you’ll have to wait to unwrap it.”

“Oh?” Laszlo checked the coffee table wondering how he missed it. Alice nodded, removed the blanket from her shoulders, and sat up straight, pushing her plentiful chest out. “Oh!”

Intentionally, her sweater slipped off her shoulder exposing a touch of lace. His eyes followed the movement. “It’s more of an investment, I think, but mutually beneficial.”

“Certainly,” he agreed, unconsciously licking his lips. 

“But not yet.” Alice fixed her sweater and re-wrapped the blanket. Laszlo blinked twice, refocusing on the moment. She knew how to tease him, draw him in, and turn his head all around. It was maddening and enthralling. He thought carefully about the order in which to give his gifts to her. Start small.

“The poinsettias on the table are yours to keep, so long as you keep them away from Georgie. I read they’re not good for cats, so put them somewhere high and out of reach for him.”

“They’re gorgeous, Laszlo, and I appreciate the research. All the other flowers you’ve given me have been Georgie safe, so I’ll have to find somewhere special for these.”

Next was a little gift bag filled with imported German chocolates, the best in his opinion, and cat treats for Georgie. Treats for both of them, he explained, with a sheepish smile at the pun. These were all small gifts, trivial really, but they all brought a smile to her face. It was time to step it up. He handed her a slim, unmarked envelope with two tickets to the Nutcracker, on Christmas Eve no less. 

Alice’s eyes glittered. “I thought this had been sold out for months! How did you get these?”

“I have a box, so I get the first pick of any tickets…” he trailed off. He always bought at least two tickets. In years past, he would take John, Stevie, or John and Sara and play the third wheel. This year, Laszlo would have a date. 

“Fuck off,” Alice said indelicately, but still alluringly to him. “You have a box?”

“I do,” he snickered, “It was my family’s before it became mine.”

“That’s incredible.” She still held the tickets in her hand, looking them over and over. His eyes met hers, a silent question. What are you thinking? “Honestly, I’m trying to think if I have an outfit worthy of this.”

“Whatever you wear, I’m sure it will be divine, and I hope you pair it with this.” He slid his final present over to her: a small jewelry box. 

Tentatively, she set the tickets down and picked up the box. It wasn’t wrapped; Laszlo thought the black velvet spoke for itself. Now he feared it was too much too soon. Jewelry set certain expectations. It announced intention. 

“Oh, Laszlo.” Her thumb rubbed along the edge of the box, and she tilted the necklace and earrings toward the light. “It’s- I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” Alice’s wide eyes met his, and he thought he saw the shadow of a tear.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” The troublesome tear slipped down her cheek when he asked, and more threatened to follow. Given the nature of his work, Laszlo was accustomed to tears, but he did not know what to do when Alice cried.

“You’ve done so much and given me such wonderful gifts,” she tried to steady her voice but was unsuccessful, “and I’m worried I didn’t do enough.”

“Don’t say that,” he rushed to assure her. In the unspoken silence, Laszlo sensed her true fear was that she wasn’t enough. He struggled for words, so he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “You have given me plenty.”

Alice smiled, tears still in her eyes, and nodded to herself. “Thank you, Laszlo, just-” she paused again, registering her hand in his, “Thank you.”

After Alice dried her tears, embarrassed she cried but comforted by Laszlo’s words, they dimmed the lights and turned on a movie. All playful bickering about what to watch stopped when Alice spotted an old stop-motion classic about the year without Santa Claus. She had not seen it in years, but she vividly remembered the song with heat miser and snow miser. Laszlo chuckled and indulged her, selecting the movie and letting the opening credits play. 

She cuddled up next to Laszlo, his arm across her shoulders, and she shared her blanket with him. Alice leaned her head on his chest, and he rested his chin at the top of her head. She was comforted by his slow and steady breathing. Laszlo was a rock: steady and reliable under her. 

Both their hands wandered, appreciative and lingering touches, until the movie was forgotten and Laszlo encouraged her to sit on his lap. Alice hesitated, biting her tongue at a quip about being more than he could handle, but he was insistent and unflinching. She straddled his lap, her already short skirt rising up even further, teasing him with the tops of her thighs. 

“There you are,” Laszlo crooned. He looked less perfect and more like a person. Toussled hair, pink cheeks, sly smile. Alice adored him like this. His hand circled her waist and pulled her closer, eliminating any space between them. His kiss tasted of their drink, rich chocolate with a touch of spice. Alice melted into his touch. Laszlo panted, whining into her mouth as he felt her chest pressing against him.

His hand slipped under the knit of her red sweater and traced the skin underneath. His fingers danced over the clasp of her new bra, her gift just for him to unwrap, asking her permission before advancing any further. She broke their kiss and nodded, a quiet “I want this” escaping her lips. Laszlo needed no more encouragement, and he deftly undid the clasp. She pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples pebbled in the sudden chill, and Laszlo was quick to latch himself to her. 

He took one into his mouth, lavishing it with attention, while he cupped her other breast with his hand. Laszlo did not want it to feel unappreciated as he nipped, licked, and pinched. Alice moaned his name and wriggled her hips against him, craving more in the heady heat of the moment. “I want to see you,” she huffed. 

Laszlo paused and drew back. A trail of saliva connected them, and Alice brushed it away with her thumb. “I’m all yours,” he murmured.

Alice hastily unfastened the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt, cursing him for wearing so many layers, but grateful for them too. Laszlo looked good in his layers, coordinated and well-put-together, but she wanted to see underneath his careful clothing choices.  Alice feasted her eyes on a broad chest, dusted with coarse hair and fine freckles, leading down to his soft stomach. Laszlo tipped his head back and groaned when she trailed her hand down his chest.

“Much better.” Pleased, Alice touched Laszlo’s chin and brought his attention back. His eyes were hazy, as if he’d drunk more than a glass of wine, as he studied her form. Laszlo ran an appreciative hand across her body: cupping her breast, holding her waist, and resting on her ass. He kissed her again, his lips wandering from her lips to her jaw, and her collarbone. 

“Laszlo, I-” His phone, forgotten on the coffee table, rang and interrupted her. She turned, glancing at the caller ID, and handed it to him. “It’s Stevie, he’s probably on his way home.”

Laszlo answered and held the phone to his ear. Alice was somewhat relieved he called. She wasn’t sure how much further they were going to go, and she was nervous to broach the topic. This was a natural end to the evening. When she went to move off his lap, he held her there with his right hand. Not firmly, but the surprising and warm touch was enough to keep her there. She slipped her hand over his.

Alice waited until he hung up to speak. “I think it’s time for me to go, Las.” 

“Please, darling, five more minutes.” His hips ground against hers, and his voice was as enticingly sweet as honey. 

“Five minutes, my final Christmas present for you,” she teased.

His lips reattached to hers, and his hand groped her breast. Her hips continued above him, and Laszlo followed every one of her movements. 

Hindered by Laszlo’s request, but hastened by his assistance to redress, Alice left without issue. She promised to text him when she arrived home safe and sound, and he reminded her what time they would leave for the Nutcracker. Laszlo waited for Stevie to return in the kitchen, hoping to ask about his evening before locking the front door and going to bed. 

“Hey,” Stevie entered through the more hidden ground-level door that connected through the garage. He preferred the direct access rather than messing with the front door. It was part of why he chose to live downstairs.

“How was it?” 

“Good,” he shrugged, “Caleb got a new game for us to play, so it took a while to figure out the rules, but it was fun.”

“Did they enjoy the chips?”

“Yeah, yeah, they did.” Stevie glanced at the sink, empty apart from two mugs of hot chocolate. “How was your evening?” 

One mug was still smeared with lipstick, and panic shot through Laszlo. Did he have any of her lipstick on his face? He wished he checked a mirror instead of presuming he looked okay. Laszlo flustered, thinking on the spot.

“Fine. Some people from the psychology department came over for dinner, part of a new tradition they’re trying to start.”

Stevie poured himself a glass of water and stood in front of the fridge. “That’s cool. Any leftovers? ”

“What? They didn’t feed you over there?” Laszlo chuckled, relieved by the change in subject.

“They did, but I’m still hungry. Growing boy and all.” Stevie ate a dinner roll without bothering to microwave it. 

Laszlo rolled his eyes. Ah, the youth. “Goodnight, and don’t forget to lock up.”

“Already did.”

Laszlo meant it when he said, “Good kid.”

***

Two days later, Laszlo picked Alice up from her apartment with a bouquet of pale pink roses. She wore a simple, elegant black dress and shawl. Underneath her silver shawl, Laszlo spotted the simple necklace he gave her and more than one purple hickey. He felt a sense of satisfaction seeing his work.

They arrived early to the theater and worked slowly through the crowds. People acknowledged him — former clients or students — and he stopped for a moment to chat with some of them. His chest puffed up with pride, talking to them with a woman as wonderful as Alice on his arm. She shimmered under the chandeliers.

Finally, Laszlo brought her to his box on the upper level. Alice whispered in his ear she always wondered what the view from the boxes was like rather than general admission. Laszlo promised to take her to more shows in the coming year. They enjoyed the show, her hand clasped in his, and her shawl slipping off her shoulders.

Laszlo asked if she was hungry, too, when they left the theater. Sheepishly, Alice confessed she was. He swung by a fast-food joint, one of the only things open at the late hour on Christmas Eve, and ordered fries and milkshakes. After their midnight snack, they made out like teenagers in the front seat. It was a complete contrast to the formality of their evening, but it was the perfect way to end the night.

taglist: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @groovyponypatrollamp @to-fat-to-give-a-crap @kateris-world @eli-the-thinker

[catchyhuh]

candles. just. candles

don’t you love the unimportant questions i ask myself at 2 am about jigen daisuke. how DOES he feel about wax melts vs traditional wick candles. how DOES he feel. i will be getting more indepth about this than anyone has a right to

lupin:

oh baby

the only guy who unironically would love a candle as a present. you picked out a smell?? you picked out a smell you thought he would like and slash or made you think of him? a scent? something so difficult to pinpoint and describe? wait you paid how much for this? i don’t. well. i dunno if it’s… thirty dollars touching but it IS TOUCHING!

candles in ALL shapes and sizes. who give a shit. he’s half french and frenchies love that faux romantic shit like nobody else. fujiko enters the building, smells Wild Rose & Suede and just walks right back outside with no change in facial expression

when he was a kid he really really liked wax melts because it was fun to watch them slowly . melt. as wax melts do BUT he saw the candle wax stamp shit and suddenly he’s all about calling cards. suddenly grandpa doesn’t need to teach him shit about the importance and fun of calling cards he’s just ALL about calling cards and still is to THIS DAY

jigen:

well. this may shock you. but jigen is picky.

really his preference would be no candles i imagine but his sense of smell is already kinda busted anyhow so if you lit one two rooms over. he probably wouldnt notice! but if he IS noticing it’s best to go with some basic, almost unnoticeable thing. like. linen. or whatever (although being fair i do love a good linen)

the only candles he really has an opinion on are birthday candles. gotta have birthday candles. just for the comedy of sticking a candle in someone’s egg and ham biscuit at 6:14 in the morning 

but i have an answer for that initial question: wick truther. no matter how many times he hasn’t been paying full attention and has accidentally singed himself with the lighter. can’t spell wick without w

fujiko:

iiiii take it back fujiko could also be charmed by a candle gift. provided the gift giver a. also included a tiffany hairband or something or b. was somebody actually sincere that she really does like to some extent. who wasn’t rich. and couldn’t afford the tiffany hairband to go with the candle

like i said with perfumes and even her hair in canon and a million other things she doesn’t let herself get locked on the same thing for very long, but i can see her having one specific scent she really enjoys and maybe getting two or three. i almost typed buying. can you imagine. i almost typed fucking “fujiko mine might BUY some candles.” i really am tired

don’t underestimate the power of a good candle that shit can help you sleep for a week, calm you down from the worst day of your life, just make you appreciate the world for 5 minutes or even keep you uncomfortably awake for as long as you need. scent psychology. she looked into it when making those sleeping gas perfume bottles

probably saving one really nice candle for some event on the horizon like “we got the thing!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳” or “we didn’t die!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳” 

goemon:

okay goemon is like. whatever about candles themselves. they smell nice. that’s kind of the opinion most people have because who… has an opinion on candles? but you know what he REALLY has an opinion on. candle HOLDERS.

he sees those little silhouettes carved out of the world’s cheapest nonflammable materials with the big dish at the bottom to catch excess wax and he’s like what an ART FORM. what an underappreciated necessity and ART FORM

so he gets a bit internally disappointed when lupin brings home some shit in glass. which is 70% of the market as of 1995. sorry goemon

also really enjoys those candles with the hollowed out center so they light up the non-melting wax on the outside. if anybody knows what those are. i saw them at a craft fair once! they had a zelda one.

just generally assume any novelty candle is his shit. i mean it’s… carving. you know he loves that stuff. and destroying the work by letting it melt is probably some metaphor he’d love and brood over for like an hour too it’s GREAT for him!

zenigata:

… candles? like. vague gesture here. candles? who has an opinion on candles? why would anybody care that much about… candles?? (quote from a grown man who gets giggly when he sees a teeny tiny bland vanilla scented candle in a hotel room)

zenigata has strong opinions on fucking cherry tomatoes vs sliced tomatoes in his salad with a trillion other ingredients in it. of COURSE he has some indecipherable passion about some nothing shit like candles

very much a candle warmer dude. sometimes the wick burns out before the candle is finished and now you’ve got a busted candle! for that matter the flame could be a FIRE HAZARD, if you aren’t paying attention. plus it keeps all the heat condensed into one spot (philosophy of a grown man who certainly didn’t get burnt six times trying to light the same candle one time)

unfortunately the longer i think about it the more everything about a candle seems like a bad idea for him. wax gets everywhere, the fire, the glass, smells really good but he immediately gets used to the smell and forgets to turn it off later, REALLY, THIS ISN’T A GOOD THING FOR HIM!

[paynxt360fintech]

The global gift card market continues to grow at an accelerated pace on the back of digital gift card offerings in 2023

Digitalization, tech-savvy population, and increasing trend of strategic alliances is driving the growth of the global gift card market in 2023. The growth rate is significantly higher in markets like the United States. According to a report from PayNXT360, the United States gift card market is expected to grow at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 5.7% from 2023 to 2027. Based on the estimates, the industry will increase from US$185.4 billion in 2022 to reach US$247.9 billion by 2027.

[tangledbea]

Some time ago you mentioned you have a ton of Rapunzel art, and I remember seeing a New Dream wall painting too. Do you have some other New Dream or maybe Eugene art?? I need some inspiration XD

Also, thanks for the kind words about my URL on my last ask! <3

Oh man, I have So Much New Dream art (and a tiny bit of Eugene solo art). XD Some of it's official, some of it's fanart, a lot of it isn't even on my walls, because I don't have space, but I have every intention of putting it up someday. Prepare for a lot of art with brief explanations:

Bought at the Disneyland Resort in Anaheim, CA:

The top one was bought at Off the Page in California Adventure. It's actually got dimension, since Rapunzel and Eugene are cut out and raised on some thick foamboard. The bottom two were bought at Wonderground Gallery in Downtown Disney.

From Walt Disney World:

While I have not been to WDW since 1989, I have friends who go frequently, and over the years, they've picked me up stuff. Top left: a wet paint sign they used to use regularly (I'm sure they've change it by now). If the painters were working, and you asked nice, they'd often just give you one or more. I painted the frame, and my sister made the bead garland. Top right: A card handed out at a Valentine's Day event. The other side says "True Love". Bottom left: A parks map and guide. Bottom right: Tangled cards from the Sorcerers of the Magic Kingdom TCG that they no longer do.

Official art from various sources:

Top row: I don't remember the artist, I'm sorry. I've had it for years, though. 2nd row left: a lithograph print of the official art for the Disney Fairytale collection. 2nd row right: two (of five) lithographs that came with the pre-order of the blue-ray at the Disney Store. 3rd row left: a lithograph print of the official art for the Disney Fairytale Designer collection. 3rd row right: LE lithograph of concept art. I don't know what the lithograph was for, but I literally just bought it the other day off eBay. Bottom left (left): wedding silhouettes. Fanart, and unfortunately the artist closed their shop. Bottom left (right): The certificate of authenticity for the 17" Rapunzel wedding doll. Bottom right: two "wedding invitations" from the Disney Store from when Tangled Ever After was going to be released to video.

Briana Garcia:

Left: she used to sell it as a print. Right: A one-of-a-kind gift that a friend got me.

Misc fanart and gifts:

Top left: from that same out-of-business silhouettes artist (I glued them to the sparkly paper myself XD). Top right: a completely black-market print of the first Thomas Kinkade Tangled painting. Middle: This is actually highlighting the wanted poster, which I meticulously recreated. But hey! Life-size standee! Bottom left: a card from a friend. Bottom right: a sticker my boyfriend got me a few Christmases ago.

[manorpunk]

A beefy pair of brigands blocked the road, faces covered with soot and motor oil, one with a month-old buzz cut and the other with a bald head and a bushy beard. Behind them was a dented, run-down van decorated with airbrushed wizards and riddled with bullet holes.

"I'm Liquor," said the bearded one.

"I'm Gusto," said the one with a buzz cut, "and we're here to pump..."

"...you up!" They completed the sentence in unison, posing and flexing.

Johnny Newsroom's attempt to size them up had only left him more confused. He fiddled with the brim of his white hat. "I don't want any trouble, I'm just passing-"

Liquor interrupted him by grabbing the side door of the van and throwing it open hard enough to make the whole van rattle. "We don't want trouble either, we're just a couple of honest, hard-working black market fences selling shit that fell off of a truck," he said.

"Real yeoman shit," barked Gusto, "like Thomas fuckin Jefferson. This shit right here is the American dream."

Inside the van were stacked boxes of various necessities and vices - alcohol, nutrient bars, gift cards, Meth Lite, water purifiers, and every type of vape pod one could imagine.

"We got that real shit," Gusto pointed at the vape pods, smiling with pride, "the kind with extra cadmium."

Johnny peered further into the the van. There was a large yellow plastic jar with a crudely written label which read 'Wizard Sauce.'

"Wizard Sauce," Johnny said out loud.

Liquor nodded and jabbed a thumb at the wizard decals on the outside of the van. "For the wizards," he said.

Johnny blinked. "Sure. Of course. Wizards need Wizard Sauce."

[ebbing-terror]

"Lynn!" He had only been gone for a few minutes but when he sprinted back, he had a gift in his hands. A very... meaty gift. A human contorted gruesomely into the shape of a gift box.

He offered it to her before dropping it into her hands, grinning from ear to ear as if he hadn't just ruined a person and destroyed a family in the process. But what was one human... or any humans to a curse like him?

Inside the gift was chaos. Stolen pears from the market down the street, a bunch of random cash crinkled up and thrown in for her to buy things she wanted. A card, unsigned of course but stolen because the sentiment sounded nice?

And lastly, a single ring. It would have been at the bottom of the box had it not been caught upon the stem of a pear. A pretty thing, likely stolen from a store. But strangely, it looked to be her size - as if he took his time to walk around the shop he plucked it from. A single red stone with, not too big nor too small. Smaller citrine stones were inlaid around it, save for the single small topaz at the bottom. All sat pretty upon a silver band that had its own intricate pattern to it.

It was a ring fitting for a birthday month, he had done his research while at the shop - the keeper there had a funny little book that put all kinds of meanings behind the stones. And he found this. A one of a kind, handmade ring.

One didn't need much imagination for why he picked the blood red stone for her to be its centerpiece. Words weren't needed for that symbolism to be clear enough.

"That was fast!" Lynn marveled, her head leaning back over the couch to get an upside-down view of the approaching curse, his grin brimming with pride, his eyes wide and anticipating. As Mahito pranced over with the flesh box, Lynn was reminded of a cat bringing home a mangled rodent with a bloody, innocent smile.

It was no different. Humans were rodents, pests that did nothing but bring ruin...And Mahito was the exterminator.

The box sat heavy in her hands, it had more heft than she expected. Lynn's fingers sank into the squishy flesh, stopping against the bones of what still was a man's jaw. She sat the head in her lap but not before giving it a playful shake. If the thing still had brains she surely would've rattled them out.

Carefully, Lynn guided the jaw open, a groan singing out like a music box. The upper half of the head fell back, folding in half in the same horrible fashion as her favorite trap in Gigsaw- The Inverted Beartap.-

Both rows of teeth were displayed this way, like yellowed pearls on red velvet. That alone was a wonderful gift, and Lynn traced her finger over both crescents, wondering if this box would sing new songs as she extracted it's gems.

But there was more! Mahito had delivered Lynn a real treasure chest!- Or, head.

Inside there was a mess of green, pears and paper money piled up to the mollars. A swash of blue glitter caught Lynn's eye, a corner of a card poking out the mound of fruit and Yen. Upon excavating it, a slightly bent picture of a sunny beach was revealed, bright red text dancing across reading ' Happy Birthday, Beach!!' That made Lynn giggle softly, opening the card to read the follow-up text.

'Don't be crabby!'

With a little crab beneath it. Too cute!

Lynn closed the card, thoughtfully observing the cover. There was a lounge chair set upon the beach, shaded by an umbrella....Mahito had managed to pick up something that was both funny and endearing. Lynn felt over the grainy texture of the sparkles smeared across the sea and sand.

It didn't take long before another shinny thing caught her eye.

And what a pretty thing it was.

Lynn's lips parted in a soundless gasp, taking the ring between her fingers carefully, as if afraid it'd shatter- it certainly looked like it would! The ring was so delicate, a far cry from any rings Mahito had given her before, chipped, corroded by blood rings torn off the fingers of his victims and crudely bent to fit his human's little finger.

Lynn's eyes were transfixed on the ring, peering into the depths of the twinkling facets. It was stunning, the kind of ring that'd strike a girls heart with wild yearning with a single glance, the kind of ring that'd make a girl swear to marry whoever got it for her.

"It's...So pretty..." Lynn held the tiny circlet close to her heart, the center stone sharing it's color and passion, it's violence.

And it fit so perfectly on the finger it was meant for. Lynn held out her hand, watching the ruby glimmer and dance with the citrine and topaz, reflections of the vibrancy and devotion harbored within her soul.

She loved it so much..

Setting the box beside her, Lynn leapt up, throwing her arms around Mahito's waist to snare him in a tight embrace. The best gift she could ever receive was this curse.

She loved him so much...

"Thank you, Mahito~ You're the best..~"

Now, she had to get him a ring to match!!

[wumblr]

advertising is literally so embarrassing on a conceptual basis from the ground up. like, i know for any given ad i see, after a rube goldberg machine of human misery has been slung into action during the last microseconds of every pageview i take -- primarily the reason any site's page load times remain like 56k dialup from the 90s -- meanwhile, an auction machine algorithm clearinghouse has sold my eyes based on the attributes they were able to cull from a covert op surveillance database, so that an image could be sold for pennies on the dollar regarding a product i will literally never buy. but it's none of that. what gets me is that each of these images were painstakingly designed by some dozen strong demon horde of college graduates who lost their soul before they matriculated, focus groupped again for pennies on the dollar so that the people in the focus group can try to form a meaningless opinion on a subject that matters to no one, in exchange for a gift card, probably, but by the time it's gotten there it's already gone through research and development and design phases, each scrobbling for a scrap of bread under threat of starvation, blindly insisting they know something about selling things that every other marketing office populated by vultures and guttersnipes doesn't, and this is all before they send it to the graphic designer that painstakingly selects a pantone swatch from their adobe subscription and a font that a typographer sold for someone's real money to slather on top of this brilliant sales idea that's been flushed down the sewer of commerce. and at the end of it all, "THAT'S what you came up with? bit shit innit" is what i find myself saying every time before i select the x the size of a hydrogen atom to tell a database at google that the whole experience was offensive

[xxmyhomexx]

THE DESERT ROSE: My Rose

Ok, since I am going to romance Zain because he's hella interesting, I started thinking of a love scene that might happen, but it also has no connection to the game, and that's just how my imagination runs because I'm a sucker for intriguing LIs. 🤷‍♀️ WARNING: NSFW

~~~

What if they are in Brazil and they're on a date, and Zain takes a genuine interest in her but she's a bit afraid because if their age range? He's about 10 years older at minimum, but Yasmin can't help but feel a connection to him.

In the lobby of the villa they are staying, she decides to chance it and accepts Zain's attraction. They go on a date, exploring small outdoor markets in Brazil as well as eating at a restaurant that makes the best food amongst the Portuguese culture. Around four hours later, they end up in a bar, sitting at an indoor lounge area enjoying each other's company. Zain takes alcohol very well, whereas Yasmin decides to just drink water.

"Come on, try it," Zain suggests. "You never know."

"Ok, but if I end dying of alcohol poisoning, I'm contacting my father's men." Yasmin side-eyes him as she sips a beer from a bottle offered, but the touch of its taste to her lips is enough for her to fling it back in his hands. "Gross!"

Zain chuckles. "I guess Mr. Kadir's daughter isn't fond of beer."

"Not that kind," Yasmin sneers. "It tastes like vomit."

"Like I said, I admire a woman of traditional value." Zain sets his bottle aside.

"Does this traditional value include a foot up your ass?" Yasmin raises a brow.

Zain smirks. "Only if you're the one doing it."

Both of them laugh as Yasmin sighs, staring into the fireplace and listening to the patrons in the bar. So much had changed in a long span of time, and she rested her head along the arm of the chair. While pondering, Zain took the time to admire her. The dress she wore was one he designed for her, shaping the curves of her figure comfortably without it tightly restricting her. Her elegant brown hair was loose around her shoulders in waves, her eyes winged.

He set his beer to the side and leaned in close, catching her attention.

"You're pensive," he noticed.

"I just...it's amazing how much my life has changed. I was just Yasmin Al-Aziz, daughter of Kadir, Sefer's most famous politician. But now...I'm out here, with his colleague. And I wouldn't even change a damn thing."

Zain takes in her words as he notices she wears the bracelet he gifted to her. He offers her a hand, helping her from her chair. They walk through the bar and a set of double doors, up a staircase taking them to a second level. The bar he chose was also a hotel, discretely making a reservation for the evening.

"I hope you don't mind," Zain flicks a key card between two fingers. "It's quite late, and I'm awfully tired."

Yasmin blushes. "I didn't bring pajamas, Zain."

"You won't need them tonight."

Yasmin crimsons as he takes her hand and escorts her into the room. It's about the size of a standard living room, with a chaise lounge right next to a lit fireplace, and a queen-sized bed with a purple canopy. In the middle of the room was a small table with a vase of roses.

"Oh wow," Yasmin was in awe. "You really planned everything out. Let me guess, you knew I'd say yes to this date, and thought you'd get lucky?"

Zain shrugged. "No, I never take advantage of a woman like that, especially one I've...grown too fond of."

Yasmin smug look faded, and now she was genuinely confused. Zain plucked one of the roses from the vase, causing his date to warn him of the thorns. However, they'd been cut, and he twirled it in his fingers thoughtfully.

"I'm not asking on behalf of your father, but as a genuine man. Yasmin...will you give me your heart? Fully and honestly, only committed to me?"

Yasmin didn't move, couldn't even answer. She eyed the man closing in on her, eyes following the rose in his hand. He inhaled its scent before holding it out to her. He let it trail across her cheek, down the hollow of her throat, to the region between her breasts. Her chest heaved when she felt the softness of its petals tickling her skin.

"Are you trying to seduce me with a rose?" She raised a brow.

"What?" Zain's lips thinned. "Of course not!"

Yasmin smiled sincerely. "I'm kidding."

She closed her hands around the one that held the rose. "Zain, I've already known who my heart belonged to a long time ago. This attraction between us...it scares me, but years are just numbers, and they don't add up to what I want now. I want you, heart and soul, no one else."

And with this, he slammed his lips against hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting every inch and corner that he could lap up. Yasmin's also did, as if was a war of who wanted dominance over the other first. After several minutes, they broke a part, gasping for air. Yasmin knew where the next part lead them, but she was nervous...and a virgin.

"Zain," she gulped. "I-I've never done...it before."

He nodded. He walked behind her and she turned to face the fireplace, the orange flames dancing in her eyes. Two palms rested on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes when she felt them start to massage her, across her collarbone, blades, and down to her back. She heard the zipper to the back come down, slowly. Soon, the golden fabric pulled at her feet, leaving her in a set of red lingerie. He kissed the base of her neck down the crook of her shoulder, letting her head lull to the side.

"Beautiful..." Zain voice rasped as he started to rid her of the rest of her underwear. Soon, she stood bare in front of him, still with her back against his taught chest. A part of her should have been embarrassed, but the fire in her belly bubbled and crackled with determination. That was, until she felt one hand slide downward.

"Zain...ugh!" She buckled her knees together, locking his wrist in a semi-firm grip.

He smirked. "Already ready."

"Zain, I-I'm..."

"Sssshh," he purred. "It's to help you. Trust me, Yasmin."

She moaned as her legs finally buckled beneath her, causing her to hold on to the arm of the chaise for balance. With aide, she crawled onto the cushions as his fingers continued their magic.

"Z-Zain, please," she gasped. "I-I n-n-need you."

He kissed his way up her spine and toward the base behind her ear. "I'm right here."

In a haze, Yasmin couldn't hear him ridding himself of his clothes and ripping open plastic, slipping on protection. She grunted when he flipped her over on her back and dragged her toward him.

"Oh my god." She gasped. Zain's body was built like a Morroccan warrior, a six-packed lined with definition but not overly done. His biceps were bigger than she thought, but he was the kind of fit she liked in a man: natural, hard, the kind that made her blush. He kissed her once more, molding her body against his. The chaise ricked from underneath their weight, but it held to full support as he crawled on top of her.

He started to lick, graze his teeth, and suck at her collarbone, neck, anywhere he could find. He then trailed his mouth tortorously down her body, earning him a pleasant tune of moans and groans. She was so lost in it, she almost didn't feel a sharp cut into her body.

"AAAUGH!" It was sudden, swift, and full. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the labor breathing. It burned and stung, causing tears to prick at the corners of her eyes.

Zain didn't move, didn't budge. He just ran his fingers through her hair, assuring her it'd be better in seconds. He ran his thumbs across her wet eyes and lifted her slightly.

"It's better," she was no longer in pain. "I can take it."

Slowly, she felt him start to move. He never peeled his gaze away as she interlaced her fingers in his, urging him to go faster.

"Yes, yes, like that," she pulled him in for another kiss. "It feels like Heaven!"

Suddenly, she flipped him over, now atop of him. Zain kept his hands on her hips as she balanced one hand on the arm of the chaise with the other on his shoulder.

"More, more. Zain!"

"Such a greedy, rebellious princess." Zain smirked. With a final jerk of his hips, Yasmin collapsed on top of him, exhausted but satisfied. She lay there in his arms for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts before he slowly lifted her and carried her to the shower.

In the bathroom, Zain shampooed and soaped the length of her body, running his fingers through her soaked main. She soaped the entire area of his back, across his chest before finishing off with his hair. Yasmin pulled his head down and kissed him, molding herself against him.

"I'll never get tired of this."

"I'll never get tired of you, Yasmin. Never."

This was all she needed. He was all she needed.