#costume jewellery is not and will never be one of them

[somecunttookmyurl]

i'm not reblogging the whole post again but @zorilleerrant you are so real for this

[burningembers91]

Loving You From Afar - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Park Gyeong-Seok is in love with you. But his life isn't one he thinks you'd want to share. If only he opened his eyes, he might realise that you loved him too.

Warnings: depictions of cancer, Park Gyeong-Seok's daughter is sick, Reader and Gyong-Seok are lovesick fools, 18+only!

The past few years hadn’t been easy for Park Gyeong-Seok. His marriage to who he thought was the love of his life, and the subsequent birth of his beautiful baby girl should have been a turning point in his life. But sadly, fate had other plans. Na-Yeon had been born prematurely, the doctors uncertain whether she would make it through the night. But his daughter, she was one hell of a fighter, and she pulled through. It hadn’t been plain sailing, her early birth leaving her sickly and frail. Gyeong-Seok never lost hope, he never gave up on the tiny life he cradled to sleep every night. His wife on the other hand, she found it hard to cope. Being a mother wasn’t what she thought it would be, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with a child who needed round the clock care. A few months after Na-Yeon was born, her mother left in the middle of the night. Gyeong-Seok had spent months trying to track her down, but she didn’t want to be found.  

 His dream of opening his own art studio came to screeching halt, and he found himself taking any and every job he could to keep his daughter fed and sheltered. He eventually found himself at an amusement park, painting tourists for less than the price of a cup of coffee. It wasn’t a well-paying job, but Na-Yeon loved spending every day there, watching the characters in their costumes, laughing as they paraded through the park. Her health was in decline again, cancer ravaging her already broken body. But she was so strong, so happy, and that was what kept Gyeong-Seok going. When he could no longer afford their two-bedroom apartment, he moved to a smaller one-bedroom place, giving his daughter the bedroom while he made do with the sofa bed.

That was where he’d met you; the beautiful girl who lived across the hall. The one Na-Yeon spoke of all day every day. you were the one who made him laugh on the days he felt like crying, who took Na-Yeon out for ice cream when he needed a rest or bought her colouring books and toys when he was struggling to keep her entertained. You had such a way with his daughter, and your presence was one that calmed him immediately. It was you who had crocheted the strawberry hat his little girl never took off, something to keep her warm when the chemo took her hair. If you didn’t enjoy looking after Na-Yeon, you never complained. You always had a smile on your face, always had a positive word for him.

He'd fallen hopelessly in love with you over the last eight months, but you would never want to be with him. He could barely afford to keep a roof over his daughter’s head. he couldn’t take you out on dates, or buy you jewellery, or whisk you on a weekend away. Na-Yeon’s treatment took every penny he earned, and there were nights when he couldn’t afford to feed the both of them, so he went hungry. He never asked you for anything, never complained, and yet you seemed to sense his desperation. You’d bring food round every now and again, enough to last them a few days. He would never be able to find a way to repay you for your kindness, would never be able to articulate just how much you meant to him.

He's drawn and painted you probably a dozen times, but he could never get the courage up to give you any of his creations. Your beauty couldn’t compare to his artwork, your kindness could never fully shine through on the paper. Some nights, you’d sit together in his apartment, Na-Yeon sleeping in the bedroom next door. Your fingers would graze each other’s as you watched TV, your knees would bump together under the blanket you cozied under for warmth. You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, but it never went further than that. You deserved someone who could buy you nice things, who could take you places Gyeong-Seok would only ever be able to dream of.  

The paintings of you stayed tucked out of sight, just like his feelings for you. there were nights he’d lie on the tiny sofa bed, the springs digging into his back, and he’d think about you. He wondered how it would feel to be able to love you, to be able to cuddle up next to you each night, not on a broken sofa bed, but in a plush King size bed with silk sheets. He wondered if his pillows would smell like your perfume, whether you’d smile when he woke you up every morning with a kiss. He wondered if Na-Yeon would grow up to think of you as her mother, turning to you for advice about hair, boys and other things dads didn’t have the privilege of knowing about.  

No one wanted a poor painter though, who had holes in his clothes and a daughter who needed constant care. He didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to make your life hard. You were so kind, so caring, and so full of life. He would be content loving you from afar, relishing the friendship you gave him and his daughter.

You wished Gyeong-Seok could see how amazing he was. He was a man broken by circumstances beyond his control, dealt a shitty hand of cards by life. you’d loved him from the moment you met him, carrying his daughter to the apartment across the hall from you as she giggled. He worked so hard to provide for them and you wished you could do more to help. You didn’t want to seem like you were pitying him, because you weren’t. life may have kicked him, but Gyeong-Seok wouldn’t stay down. He was the strongest, most resilient person you’d ever met, and you loved both him and Na-Yeon more than anything in the world. The nights you spent with him, watching TV under the blanket were so precious to you. you thought there might have been something between the two you of, but Gyeong-Seok would only ever smile, and turn his face away. you would be content to love him from afar and cherish every moment you spent with him.

You watched him now, painting a picture of the Seoul skyline while you crocheted a matching strawberry sweater for Na-Yeon, who was fast asleep beside you. You met each other’s eyes, the two of you smiling. Not realising just how much you meant to each other.

[cineatros]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁kills for love ౨ৎ daniela avanzini

cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ghostface!daniela x reader ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 headcanons!

.ᐟ cw: jealous!dani, obsession, injuries, violence, bullying, killing.

who gives a fuck about movies?!

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who you instantly clicked with when you two became roomates. the quirky, horror-obsessed girl who’s always in her element when showing you the latest slasher films. she’s a mix of sweet and chaotic, constantly pulling you into late-night horror movie marathons where you're both snuggled in bed.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who secretly enjoys the attention as you watch her cheer practice every day.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who insists on walking you to class and back to your dorm, shadowing you from a distance, always ensuring no one dares to bother you. she watches with a cold, unwavering gaze as people try to flirt or bully, silently making them back off with her presence.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who always find excuses to walk back to the dorm together, savoring the quiet moments where she can flirt and tease you.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: stands quietly behind you at the checkout, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. the cashier, a little too bold, tries to flirt with you as he scans your snacks. you smile awkwardly, but Daniela’s intense gaze never wavers. the cashier falters, suddenly aware of the tension, and awkwardly shifts his attention to the register.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: after the movie marathon, you drift off to sleep, unaware of Daniela’s mischievous plans. she waits until you’re deep in slumber, then quietly slips into her Ghostface outfit. with a smirk, she sneaks out, stalking the cashier who had flirted with you earlier. fueled by jealousy, she watches him, then silently kills him, her possessiveness turning deadly. she returns, slipping back into bed, satisfied and with a twisted grin on her face.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who let's you wear her hoodies so that her perfume would linger on you.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who loves to match everything with you–clothes, bags, shoes, and even jewellery–people already thinks you two are dating and that's what Daniela wants them to think.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: where at the Halloween party, both of you rocked your couples costume, her as a sinister witch and you as her enchanted victim. she let you mingle, enjoying the night with friends, but her watchful eyes never strayed far. when a jock, clearly too bold, tried pulling you towards the stairs, her instincts kicked in. without hesitation, she pushed through the crowd, her fist connecting with his jaw. he stumbled back, startled—Daniela’s protective glare sending a clear message: no one touches you.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who watched from the shadows as the jock taunted you at the Halloween party. she followed him home, slipping into his life unnoticed. one by one, she took everything he loved—his friends, his safety—until only him remained. In his final moments, she whispered, “You’ll never touch her again,” before killing him.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who sat on the cold bathroom floor, blood seeping through trembling fingers. you froze at the sight—pain flickering in her eyes. "It’s nothing," she rasped. ignoring her protests, you stitched her up, hands shaking. as you worked, her gaze softened.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who always pulls you close when you try to leave bed, wrapping her arms tightly around you and whispering just stay in bed and ditch classes.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: saw you take a flower from another girl, something dark stirred within her. jealousy consumed her, a quiet rage flickering behind her calm facade. She couldn't stand the thought of anyone else having your attention—you were hers.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: who couldn’t stand the sight of someone else claiming your attention. that girl dared to give you a flower—so she paid her a visit. sneaking into her dorm, she watched the girl sleep before pressing a blade to her throat. a final, whispered warning: “You should’ve stayed away.” blood spilled, and she returned to you, satisfied.

ᥫ᭡.ghostface!daniela: when you heard about the killer on campus, desperate for comfort. Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, her voice soft but reassuring. "I’m here to protect you," she whispered. You felt safe, unaware of the dark truth. As she held you close, a glint of something dangerous flashed in her eyes—something you didn't notice in the chaos. The killer had already been standing right in front of you, disguised as the one you trusted most.

a/n: and another one. i might post some headcanons for the rest of the members (lara or megan might be next).

[queenofmorningstar]

See You in Hell

Lucifer x Overlord! f! Reader

Summary: A Satanist believer in life, you'd hoped to meet Lucifer who'd fight for the sinners...but what happens when he's not what you expected?

CW: Eventual Smut, Slowburn kinda??. Modern Satanism beliefs (no cannibalism of children type of shit sorry😔), Religious Themes & Imagery. Canon–Typical Violence, Reader has shitty life when alive, Human! reader death, Angst/no Comfort (in this part). Reader manipulates for her own benefit (she’s an overlord, smh)

Word Count: 2.5K

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7| Part 8

CHAPTER ONE

It had rained the night before, and the sidewalks still shimmered with thin puddles that reflected the colourless sky. You walked with your hands in pockets, head bowed.

Another rejection email this morning. Another unpaid bill. Another voicemail from your mother, heavy with disappointment even in its silence. You hadn’t answered. What was the point? The world had grown dull around the edges—everything grey, everything pointless. You were only out for a walk because you couldn't stand the inside of your apartment anymore. 

That’s when you saw it.

A crooked, weather-worn table stood at the end of a cracked driveway, soaked cardboard signs taped to its legs: FREE STUFF in uneven marker. The yard sale was clearly long abandoned. Most of what remained was garbage…a chipped coffee mug, broken costume jewellery, yellowed paperback novels with curling covers. But something tugged at you as you trudged ahead.

Wedged beneath a stack of waterlogged magazines was a book. It sat right in the centre, dry despite the damp area, like the rain had avoided it on purpose. Black as soot, no title on the spine or author. Just an inverted pentagram etched into the front in faded gold. 

You opened the cover. The pages were handwritten in fluid, elegant, crimson ink, almost... alive. You looked around. No one was watching. No one would miss it.

It started small.

You read the first chapter that night, sitting on your bed with the book propped in your lap. The words didn’t ask you to repent.

They didn’t tell you were broken. They didn’t demand blind obedience, or sacrifice, or guilt. Instead, they looked you dead in the eye and said: You are not evil for wanting. It taught you to believe in yourself, and all the flaws that made you human. To worship yourself first.

By the end of the week, you’d underlined passages, scribbled thoughts in the margins, whispered some of the manifestation rituals and lines.   

And slowly, so subtly you didn’t notice at first, things began to change.

You started saying no . To your mother’s guilt-laced messages. To your boss’s passive-aggressive overtime requests. To the voice in your head that told you were worthless if you weren't constantly bleeding for others.

Your laughter came back—sharp, unapologetic. Dared to look happy without apologizing for it.

Death was a whisper. But when you opened your eyes again…

The sky was red, like an endless sunset bled out. Neon lights flickered with glitchy menace, towering buildings leaned at impossible angles, and demonic figures strolled by as casually as humans in a shopping mall. Somewhere distant, a scream turned into laughter. Gunfire sounded like music.

Hell. You had made it . No chains dragged you down or demons who wanted to throw you in flames. For the first time, you were home.

You didn’t become an Overlord through brute strength alone. That was never your style.

You watched first. Studied the other overlords around you. How they schemed, how they fought, how they fell.You played the long game. Befriended sinners, made them feel safe. Gained their trust, learned their secrets. You brokered deals between rival factions, only to sabotage both and seize the aftermath for yourself. 

You didn’t need to shout to be feared. You let others speak for you. Let paranoia do your work. By the time you claimed your territory, you hadn’t just proven yourself ruthless. You’d proven yourself untouchable .

_______________________

Your assistant, an imp in a pressed black suit, rattled off tasks at a speed that made your temples throb. "—and the blood-trade deal with the Sloth Ring still needs your seal. Oh! And the emissary from Sector 7 is furious that you flayed his envoy last week—"

"He interrupted me, " you said dryly.

"—still, they’re demanding reparations." She continued onwards, scrolling through her tablet.“And your new tax policies have incited a small rebellion in the Lower Slums. Very passionate. Pitchforks. Fire. The works.”

“How quaint,” you murmured. “Tell them I’m touched, and send a response.”

“A… response?”

“Impale him. Let’s see him respawn after that.”

The imp shrugged and typed rapidly. You leaned your cheek against your knuckles, expression unreadable. This was the part of ruling you loathed—dealing with the stupidity of lesser sinners.

Before your assistant could launch into another rant about soul quotas, your door slammed open with a thunderous crack. A sinner stumbled in, panting, eyes wild. Your assistant beside you snarled, wings flaring. “How dare you barge in unannounced!”

You recognized the sinner, one of the spies you had in every district.

“Speak,” you commanded, your voice low but impossible to disobey.

“We found him, ma’am. Lucifer Morningstar,” she said. “He’s chosen to remain at the Hotel for the time being. To assist his daughter. Which complicates things.”

Your mind fixated on it instantly. Your pulse spiked, but you kept your face neutral. Lucifer. The Morning Star. The First Rebel. The one whose name you had whispered in every prayer when the world above had turned its back on you. When you were alone. You had whispered his name not in reverence, but in solidarity. You both were seen as social outcasts, always kept at the side-lines. You wanted to know…did he feel the same rage as you? Was their grief identical?

You had never seen him, not once since you arrived. So you had wanted—selfishly and hopelessly—to meet him. You had almost given up, and you had come to theorize that maybe Hell was a living entity and it was protecting its king. 

Was he still a dreamer? Still infuriatingly brilliant, and beautiful in the way only fallen things could be?

Now you had a way in. A reason to be in his orbit. You smiled, and felt alive more than ever. "Clear my schedule; I have a visit to make."

_______________________

The Hazbin Hotel exterior was a tall, elaborate amalgamation of arched windows and turrets. It was the princess herself who opened the door. “Hi there!” Charlie chirped, turning with a wide, happy grin. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you here for… redemption?” she offered, hopeful.

That word always came with a foul taste. You arched a brow, amused. “Redemption? No, darling. I didn’t come here to seek salvation. I don’t beg for anything from heaven. Hell is my home.”

Charlie blinked. “Oh! Sorry—I just thought, since our guests—”

You waved dismissively. “I’m here as a patron.”

Charlie’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “A... patron?”

“Yes, yes. Your hotel is….utterly fascinating.” You walked ahead. “You’ve made quite the splash, and well, I love where the action is. And I wouldn’t mind killing exorcist filth myself.”

Charlie regained her composure as best she could, straightening her jacket and stepping ahead with you. “Well, I—um—thank you! I mean, wow! If you don’t mind me asking–”

“Charlie,” Vaggie said sharply, her voice low but insistent. “Can I talk to you? Now.”

Charlie looked over, startled. “Can it wait a second?”

“No,” Vaggie said, her gaze flicking towards you. “It really can’t.”

Charlie gave you an apologetic glance. “Excuse me—just a moment.”

You only gave a graceful nod. Charlie followed Vaggie a few feet away toward the stairs. Not out of earshot, but just far enough to pretend it was private.

“What is it?” Charlie whispered.

“That’s her ,” Vaggie said, her voice tight. “You know who that is, right?”

Charlie blinked. “I mean… no?”

“That’s the Overlord who took over that chaotic district without a single army and made it her own, a feat no one has ever achieved. She’s manipulative, calculated, and terrifyingly efficient. No one knows how she got to where she is so fast. Some say she made a deal with something worse. Others say she is that something.”

“But she wants to be a patron,” she whispered. “Isn’t that good? ”

“No, Charlie,” Vaggie cut in. “It means she wants something. She doesn’t set foot anywhere unless there’s leverage to gain.”

Charlie chewed her lip, clearly torn. “She hasn’t done anything wrong…”

“Yet,” Vaggie snapped. “You want my advice? Send her away. Nicely. Now. Before she decides to get interested. Because once she’s interested, she stays. ”

Charlie looked back again. Your eyes met Charlie’s across the room and you smiled, not cruelly, just knowingly. But still, she said, “No. We don’t turn people away, Vaggie. If she wants to be here, we let her. That’s the point.”

Charlie turned and walked back towards you, heart pounding. She wasn’t naïve but still… she believed. When Charlie finally returned, still smiling, if a little stiff around the edges.

“Would it be too forward to ask for a tour?” you asked. 

Charlie perked up immediately. “Oh! Sure! That’d be wonderful. I’d love to show you what we’re building here.”

You offered a gracious nod. “Lead the way, then.”

“Well, well!” came a voice as the shadows manifested. “Isn’t this a surprise!”

Charlie froze mid-step. A familiar radio-static chuckle fizzled through the air as Alastor stepped into view, smile stretched wide. You turned with the same calm grace, expression unreadable, save for the faintest curve of interest on your lips. “Ah, the famous Radio Demon. I was wondering where you’d crawl out after seven years.”

Alastor’s grin twitched, just slightly. 

Charlie laughed nervously. “You two know each other?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Alastor said smoothly. “We’ve danced around each other a time or two. Power attracts power, after all. Though some of us do prefer to announce ourselves.”

You gave a soft, amused smile. “And some of us don’t need to.”

Charlie looked between them, increasingly unsure if this was a joke or something far more dangerous.

“I must say,” Alastor continued, tone still light, “it’s charming that you’ve taken an interest in our humble little rehabilitation effort. Not quite your usual flavor, though. Redemption always struck me as far too... tender for your palate.”

“I have varied tastes,” you replied. “And a fondness for lost causes.” Your smile was saccharine sweet. “Anyhow, Charlie needs more people to have her back after the last extermination attempt. And after your display of ‘battle’ with Adam, let's just say…that wouldn’t be me.”

Charlie felt the air grow a little colder. Not freezing but sharp, like the moment before a storm breaks. She quickly stepped between them, smiling tightly. “Okay! So, I see you two are… acquainted. That’s great. Really great. But, uh, we were just about to start the tour, so—”

“I wouldn’t dream of interrupting,” Alastor said, bowing low with a mock flourish. “Please. Show our mysterious benefactor around.”

His smile sharpened as he straightened. He vanished into the hall, a trail of static humming in his wake. You turned to Charlie, expression once again composed. “I’m beginning to like this place already.”

_______________________

The muffled sound of their conversation faded as they moved deeper into the hotel. Back in the lobby, silence lingered for a beat longer than it should have. “Okay, what the hell just happened?” Angel Dust muttered, eyes still fixed on the empty hallway. “Did I just watch two Overlords flirt or declare war?”

Niffty popped her head up from behind a nearby couch she had been scrubbing furiously just moments earlier. “I don’t think that was flirting,” she said, blinking. “The pretty lady looked ready to slit Alastor’s throat.”

Husk, who had been quietly nursing something strong in a stained glass, glanced up with a grunt. “She’s trouble. Big kind.”

Angel leaned forward, expression sharpening. “So what’s the play? She’s classy, scary, the whole femme fatale thing. But what’s she doing here? Nobody drops here for charity.”

“She said she was a patron,” Niffty raised her hand as if answering a teacher.

“Right,” Angel said, eyes narrowing. “Because Overlords are always just feeling generous. I give it three days before something explodes.”

“Three?” Husk scoffed. “You’re generous.”

“I try.”

*

Charlie was still speaking. You nodded absently, gaze roving past half-cleaned windows and dusty corners. Then Charlie’s face lit up, brighter than you'd seen. “Dad!”

The word rang out like a bell. Your heartbeat spiked. Finally.

Lucifer.

Your mind spiralled inward like a lock turning with a perfect key. This was why you’d come. You had imagined this more times than you could count. But what you got was—

“Mmnhhgh…”

Lucifer shuffled out of a side hallway, yawning like he was just roused from a hangover. His hair was tousled in wild blond tufts, sticking up in odd angles like he’d fought a pillow and lost. He wore a duck-print loose shirt with matching pyjama pants. In one hand was a coffee mug that read, Duck Daddy .

He blinked blearily at Charlie. “Did someone say breakfast?” he mumbled.

Lucifer raised the mug to his lips and took a long, grating sip.

You stood still, frozen with a poise born of sheer will. Internally, something in you reeled. Your anticipation twisted like a knife. This was him ?

Charlie gestured between them eagerly. “Dad, this is _________,  And she wants to help the hotel!”

This... this was it?

He hadn’t even looked at you properly. You’d heard rumours, of course. That it was Lucifer who allowed the extermination of sinners, but you’d chosen to find an excuse for it, that maybe he was pressured or something more was at play. But now that you’d seen him, you knew it in your bones that he didn’t care. 

And you hated him for it. 

You’d imagined yourself by his side. Your divine purpose. But he was just a man. It wasn’t that you had expected perfection , no. But this disinterest, this casual disregard, made you feel as though staring at a faded replica.

“Forgive me,” you said quietly. “Would you mind if I stepped out? I just need a moment. Alone.”

Charlie blinked. “Oh—of course! Um, do you want someone to—?”

“No. Thank you.” You tried not to run away.

*

“Did I say something?” Lucifer asked, scratching his head. 

Charlie frowned. “No… it wasn’t that. She looked… upset. Disappointed.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t even introduced himself properly. Just… waddled in like a fool.

He let out a long breath through his nose and rubbed a hand over his face. Here he was again. Upsetting Charlie’s first patron. Making a bad impression. Failing, once more, to be the Lucifer Morningstar that anyone expected.

He had promised himself that he would help Charlie now that he was staying with her. But it was easier said than done. He couldn’t find the motivation to wake up from the bed, or create anything new and though he wanted to help his daughter, the idea of redeeming sinners was still absurd to him… 

You had looked at him . Seen him and left. He let out a slow, humourless breath. Why did it sting? He hadn’t even said anything. His mind spiralled inward, dark and familiar. The voice was always waiting there. They always leave, eventually. 

He hadn’t even wanted to come down this morning. But Charlie had asked. Come down, Dad. Say hello. Try.

He was always trying, wasn’t he? Trying to believe in her dream. Trying to support her. Trying to pretend he still had the spark she thought was buried.

But in truth? He believed in his daughter, of course. But these sinners ? He had fought and pleaded for them. For their right to choose. To create. To love freely whoever they chose.

And they spat in that freedom. They killed and lied and committed unspeakable acts. Turned free will into rot. He was stuck in a cage of his own making, watching them ruin everything all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Both Lucifer and Reader are going to work through their shit, trust me.

I’ve researched satanism to the best of my ability, and if you want to read more on it, read here.

Inspired by this post by dear @atlantis-just-drowned

On my ao3 as well ☺️

Do leave likes and comments, cuz it fuels my soul to write more and cuz I've praise kink like everyone else

Do let me know if you wanna be tagged!!

Also thank you for 200 followers!! It makes me overjoyed!

[i-heart-slashers]

𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝕬𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖓

⤷ 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹. 𝗻𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀. 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲, 𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗲.

🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 🔪​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ II

𝖘𝖋𝖜 🖤

• Art may not be a conventional romantic, but his gestures are uniquely his own—offbeat and undeniably memorable. Expect shadowy surprises and dark humor.

• Opening doors? Sure, but he makes it theatrical, pantomiming exaggeratedly and bowing as if you're royalty entering a castle.

�� He doesn't need words to express himself. Every head tilt, eerie grin, or intense stare communicates volumes—and you've learned to read him like a book.

• PDA is not his style. Instead, he'll quietly loom behind you, protecting you in his own terrifying way, letting you know you're under his unsettling watch.

• Despite his eerie demeanor, he's surprisingly attentive. If you're passionate about something, he'll sit and listen intently, miming reactions to your words.

• Art is the master of surprise gifts. Expect peculiar trinkets: stolen jewellery, unnervingly realistic sculptures, or rare oddities that only someone like him would find.

• He shows affection by creating for you—elaborate and haunting works of art that capture your essence in his macabre yet mesmerizing style.

• If he feels you're unsafe, he becomes fiercely protective. His silent yet deadly approach ensures you're always out of harm's way.

• When you're sad, Art's brand of 'cheering you up' involves his offbeat humor—his silent antics are hilarious in their dark absurdity, designed to make you laugh whether you want to or not.

• He may not say, "I love you," but his actions speak louder than words. Every small detail he observes about you is reflected in how he tailors his world to yours.

𝕽𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖘

Mysterious Protector (Art) x Quirky and Empathetic (You)

The Unlikely Duo—dark and creepy meets bright and compassionate. You balance each other in ways no one understands.

𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜 🔞💀 (𝖓𝖔 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙!)

Art's approach to 'intimacy' is as intense as he is—but there's a tenderness beneath the surface that only you get to see.

When he's with you, the world fades away. Every touch is deliberate and every motion exploratory—he's fascinated by your every reaction, especially if he can push you into overstimulation to see your tears.

He has a way of overwhelming your senses without a word; he's well-endowed under his costume, and despite being who he is, he clearly knows how to use what he has to hit right where you need him.

Art's hands are as skilled as his artistry. They're surprisingly gentle despite their strength, exploring every inch of you as if he's creating a masterpiece — though you make him wash them first (urgh, the pizza place scene. Poop hands.)

Dominance and submission blur with Art. While he's undoubtedly in control, he's deeply attuned to your needs, ensuring your pleasure comes first.

The most thrilling place you've ever fucked? A run-down carnival—the juxtaposition of eerie surroundings and intimate moments only heightens the experience.

Art loves the sight of you unraveling under his touch, his silent satisfaction evident in the wicked curve of his grin. Adding the sensation of the sharp blade trailing over your skin only gets him more excited.

He never rushes. Time seems irrelevant when you're together, each moment lingering like a haunting melody. Even if you have places to be, you'll find yourself under him, and he'll keep you there until he's done with you.

𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖓𝖌

"Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" by Marilyn Manson

[19burstraat]

unbelievably specific modern things the crows would love. too bad they live in a late-1800s fantasy world

Kaz: screenshotting nfts, those web weaving posts about dog metaphors, leaving people on read, stealing from the self checkout in supermarkets, emo phases, wearing headphones but not actually listening to anything so they're just there just as a conversation deterrent, winding up scam callers, escape rooms, pretending to know nothing about pop culture in order to annoy people, playing solitaire online, Knowing A Guy for everything

Inej: social media sleuthing, posting goodreads quotes, strictly come dancing, snoopy, easily accessible climbing shoes, mr darcy, shouting at the screen when someone's judged incorrectly on a competition show, getting unbelievably competitive about wii sports/duolingo scoreboards/goodreads goals/animal crossing islands/air hockey, texting..... With loads of elipses... Like your parents.... and dropping unprompted wisdom in them.....

Jesper: neon clothes, the 💯 emoji, making everyone as miis on tomodachi life but being so bad at it that kaz and nina's miis end up getting married, lisa frank art, scamming people on depop, cheap jewellery that makes you go green, complaining about how cottagecore videos don't correctly represent the Rural Farm Life, shitty 2000s club bangers, the kitsch movement, giving your car a name, hoiking your novelty socks really high so everyone can see them, shitty christmas films, first person shooters

Wylan: speedpaint videos, joe hisaishi, being judgemental about other people's spotify wrappeds, djungelskog, that gif of the japanese mascot costume running through a bunch of explosions, watching weird low-budget adaptations of shakespeare plays with kaz, those arcade crane games, piercing your own ears with a needle and a lighter then being somehow surprised when it gets infected

Matthias: making an instagram account in-character for your dog, posting low-quality graphics of inspirational or biblical quotes on facebook (yk the ones w the landscape or sunset behind them), taking frowning selfies from below like your granddad does, viking media of any sort, buying dozens of identical t-shirts from big tesco, mixing up celebrities all the time, perpetually caving and giving the scouts/guides/youth groups/football clubs/carollers/etc money for their fundraisers

Nina: making bait posts online in the style of 'why can't we just print more money', period dramas, wearing huge mother of the bride style hats to weddings, saving recipes/crafts/art ideas on tiktok and then never actually doing them, pink gin, tiktok edits of fit celebs/characters, 3 hour video essays abt pop culture, saying 'break up with him' in response to every relationship woe, buying cheerful tat from flying tiger

[snotty-zombie]

Rageous-tober part 3!!

Day 19: Velchid

Day 21: Vampire

Day 26: Orchid

More under the cut 😉

Day 19: Velchid

This kinda marks the spot where I started doing more and more for each entry and making life so much more difficult for myself haha I started like adding extra little bits beside the main piece just for fun which made the pressure of posting on time a lot tougher (I eventually said fuck it and just posted them late cuz who gives af haha)

I honestly love drawing full bodies of Rhinestone because she wears such bright clothing and accessories all covered in stickers and charms (her miku keychain is based off of one I own myself reeheehee) and she’s always pulling a funny face

Stark contrast to Velvet with her neat pearl jewellery and tidy hair and delicate acrylic nails. I try to make each part of her outfit somewhat matching and colour coordinated because I feel like her and Veneer are so anal retentive about that sort of thing like they FREAK if something is like slightly off like their shoes and top are different shades of black or whatever- exhibit A, Velvet’s witch costume which is all matching colours as well as her lovely nails and ring

Then there on the bonus pics is Vels tormenting the smelly boys as well as some Velstone angst, they’ll be ok

Day 21: vampire 🧛‍♂️ 🦇 🩸

QUITE PROUD OF THIS ONE, would you believe me if I said I finished it back in mid September because I was so excited for Halloween? I didn’t know I was going to be doing an inktober event this year so when I saw the vampire prompt I shoved this in a box to wait until then to post it

Veneer couldn’t decide between being a cowboy or a vampire for Halloween so he had the genius idea of combining both into one costume… a vampire cowboy! Cowboy vampire- either works. Veneer gives me HUGE vampire energy, just the inherent cuntyness of a vampire mixed with Veneer’s annoying teenage sass is chefs kiss- plus he’s as pale as a vampire anyway so no need for makeup

And his smelly hairy werewolf bf that he can drag along with his lasso and order to bite people

Day 26: Orchid Rhinestone!

Kidding the prompt was Orchid but it was referring to the same Rageon so

This is a really big one haha it was just an excuse to vomit some of my Rhinestone headcannons onto a page and it was sooooo fun

Starting off at the top, she’s a big video game person, only things she spends her hard earned cash on are video games and cosplay materials but she’ll never admit it.

Secret Easter egg moment there of her and Veneer from Jobiesayscheese’s fanfic (my favourite ever fyi, you should totes read it), the girls who know, know.

Sea urchin Rhinestone appearance! Will definitely be seeing more of her because I’m so proud of my furry designs for them all haha omfg, she makes rattling sounds when she moves, particularly when her spines aren’t tied back- I’m sure you can imagine the sound they make, sort of like hollow bamboo being clinked together mixed with jewellery tinkling

AND HER COSPLAY YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE (another ten points if you can name all the cosplays) she’s as hands on as it gets, nothing is bought, everything is hand sewn and glued and all that, she does everything by hand with her own patterns (most of the time), she even managed to convince Velvet to let her make a costume for her one time so they could have a couples cosplay. She also does literally every kind of craft out there and is always knitting or crocheting something for her friends or gf to wear like a cute jumper or a warm winter hat (she’s a giver) or felting holiday decorations as gifts :3c

Part 1! Part 2! Part 3! Part 4!

[fanaticsnail]

You Kissed the Clown? Part 5

Part 5 is complete! I loved writing the last one so much, especially the bonus section at the end - so I needed more.

Part 4 is back here.

Echoes of seemingly incohesive sentences could be heard reverberating the chasm within the red and white tent housing the Buggy Pirates.

Cabaji could recall some of his favourite one-liners exclaimed through the lips of his captain being: “It’s like you’re willingly sashaying head-first directly into a fucking circular saw!”, “don’t accept a job from that shady asshole. He’s flirting with you! That’s my job,”, “A stiff drink? A stiff drink?!”, or more quietly uttered; “you can wear any pretty dress you want, my queen. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He simply had not a single clue as to what his Captain was talking about until he finally decided to clue him in.

“Cabaji!” he heard his captain call him, prompting him to spring to his feet and enter the Captain’s quarters. He looked him over, slightly unnerved at the sight that was before him.

Several pages of loose parchment paper were littering the desk of the painted captain, all map locations of a variety of towns. Buggy traced his gloved hands over the loose pages before ushering Cabaji next to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and forcing him to look at the pages below.

“What do you make of this?” Buggy asked him, gesturing to the unorganised pages skewed throughout the desk. Cabaji furrowed his brows and looked at the pages before turning his head over to his Captain.

“You’re going to need to fill me in on a couple of steps, Captain,” Cabaji uttered, “you’ve been saying some weird stuff lately and I just want to make sure I have all the information before I answer.”

Buggy groaned, gesturing to his missing ear with a gloved index finger.

“I chucked this on the rubber brat with the straw hat before he left,” he growled at Cabaji.

“I believe you,” Cabaji confirmed with a nod, “and what does that have to do with the paper?”

Buggy threw his head back and released Cabaji from his firm hold on his shoulder.

“Keep up,” Buggy ordered, “my ear is with the brat, right?”

“Right,” Cabaji confirmed again with another nod of his head, following his captain with his eyes.

“Right,” Buggy affirmed him before continuing, “so I’m able to track them, right?”

“Yes, boss,” Cabaji acknowledged his captain and nodding at him to continue his explanation.

Buggy sighed and gestured to the paper displayed atop the table, prompting Cabaji to turn to truly look and decipher the images he was seeing. Many of them were maps of distant towns, which is something he could understand; as his boss was attempting to track his missing body part. Others were family owned jewellery business fliers, articles of critical acclaim thrown among them. Several costume designers for fine women’s clothes were also thrown into the mix, prompting Cabaji to not quite piece together exactly what his boss was looking for.

“You’re going to have to give me something more, Captain,” he uttered while gesturing to the pages, “we’re going to a town to get your ear and the map of the grand line along with it? They’re in a jewellery shop or at a particular seamstress?”

Buggy slumped his body with a loud thump into a chair at the head of the table, slouching his shoulders over.

“Ok, I give up,” Buggy muttered to the floor, his eyes full of a mixture of both sadness and confusion.

“Captain?” Cabaji asked, stepping towards his captain, “just tell me what I’m looking for and I’ll find it for you. Honest.”

Buggy let out a half-hearted laugh which resembled more of a sigh than anything else.

“I want her,” he said into the floor.

“Her?” Cabaji asked him, arching his brow slightly at his captain’s confession.

“Yes, her!” Buggy yelled, bringing his gaze up to meet Cabaji’s, “the her, the only her. The one that-,” Buggy halted his words before he continued to confess to Cabaji.

“The one that,” he exclaimed before lowering his tone just above a whisper, “kissed me.”

Cabaji’s eyes widened slightly and a small smile came to his face. His boss has a crush, and felt comfortable enough with him to share his dirty little secret.

“You wanna know who she is,” Cabaji said with a sly smile and a slight nod of his head.

“Yes,” Buggy hissed out angrily from between his teeth. Cabaji hummed and nodded again, turning to the pages.

“And what have you got so far?” Cabaji asked, picking up two pieces of paper containing family businesses within the East Blue. As soon as those words were asked, it was like he opened the flood-gates to his bosses inner thoughts.

“She’s intelligent,” he said, rising to his feet from his prior sitting position, “really intelligent. A tinkerer in her family’s jewellery business. She makes treasure, Cabaji. And she’s so witty.”

Cabaji was slightly taken aback by his boss’s exclamation but was curious enough to want to hear the rest of what he had to say.

“Her dad runs the show,” he said, hurrying over to the pages and collecting a few samples from within the greater pile, “but she travels with him for negotiation. Her latest was making some jewel axe-head for ol’ Axe-Hand.”

He thrust some pages at Cabaji of ship logs between ports within the East Blue.

“Is that all?” Cabaji asked, almost desperate for a little more gossip from his boss. Buggy had a wide sinister grin plaster on his face.

“She’s educated,” he continued, “she studied languages, novels, poetry. Hell; she sings.”

Cabaji chuckled a little at the last comment, knowing Buggy had been in the market for someone of your talents in the few months prior.

“Anything else?” Cabaji asked, looking down at the pages before looking back up to his Captain.

Buggy wiggled his eyebrows at his subordinate in slight suggestion before kicking his feet slightly like a child.

“She loves me, Cabaji,” he uttered before hiding his face in his hands, “she loves me! Can you believe it?”

“What do you mean, she loves you?” Cabaji asked, slightly alarmed at the thought that someone would be spouting lies in the hopes of destroying his captain’s confidence, “what happened?”

“She confessed to herself in the bathroom,” he said nonchalantly, arching his brow up and gazing at the backs of his glove adorning hands with a smug smile.

“And that was enough for you to-,” Cabaji began before being cut off by his captain.

“Shut the fuck up for a minute,” Buggy hushed him hurriedly, bringing his right hand over the place that was missing his ear and listening intently before declaring, “that one.”

He pointed to a piece of paper in Cabaji’s hands. Cabaji looked at it before presenting it to him.

“The one with fifteen children?” Cabaji confirmed with him, passing it successfully to his boss, “the one that’s wife passed away four years ago?”

“That’s her,” he whispered almost lovingly, bringing up the page to his eyeline. He smoothed over the article depicting a variety of compliments to your father’s skill as a craftsman of fine tinkering abilities, cradling what appeared to be the youngest child in his arms. He fixed his gaze at the fifteen children, focussing on a woman standing proudly, leaning her elbow on her fathers shoulder while cradling a smaller child at her feet: “there she is. There’s my girl,” he cooed at the page.

Cabaji searched through some other pages containing the title of your family’s business and scouring the words to find some semblance of your first name. He sifted through the pages, trailing them back to front to search for any mention of who you could be while Buggy continued to fix his eyes on your photograph.

“She’s beautiful,” Cabaji heard Buggy whisper, “she deserves the prettiest dresses and to be twirled like the queen she truly is.”

Cabaji smirked slightly to himself, knowing how completely smitten his Captain is with a woman he has absolutely no inkling as to her even her name. He couldn’t recall them having any type of conversation while the Strawhat crew were here, which continued to puzzle Cabaji as to how his Captain fell so hard for this woman.

Suddenly, Buggy dropped the page he was holding and stared off blankly at the wall.

“What is it boss?” Cabaji asked him.

“Oh no,” he began, walking over to the map of Syrup-village splayed on one of the draws in his room, “oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

“What is it? What’s happened?” Cabaji asked again, standing up and alert at his boss’s sudden outburst. Cabaji walked over and looked at the map Buggy was holding.

“The butler,” Buggy whispered before turning to face Cabaji, “it’s always the fucking butler.”

“The Butler?” Cabaji asked him, prompting Buggy to reach toward another article with a young, blonde woman standing beside a tall, dark-haired individual wearing a suit and circular spectacles.

“She’s going to die,” Buggy whispered, “she’s going to die if I don’t do something.”

“What do you mean?” Cabaji asked him, prompting him to further clarify.

“The butler that’s been flirting with my girl this whole time,” Buggy went on, thrusting the page he was holding at Cabaji, “he’s going to kill her.”

Cabaji brought his attention to the new piece of paper that Buggy unceremoniously thrust his way and looked at the darker haired individual on the page.

“That’s Captain Kuro of the Black-Cat Pirates,” Cabaji exclaimed with a small amount of shock, “isn’t he meant to be dead?”

“Oh he’s going to be if he touches a single fucking hair on my queen’s head, that’s for sure,” Buggy spat in a threatening tone.

Buggy turned around again suddenly, alerted to something approaching off into the distance.

“Here or there, boss?” Cabaji asked him, referring to his current state of alarm. Buggy creased his brows and focussed his ears on the several sounds emitting in the area.

“Here,” he said, opening his eyes and turning towards the entrance to the large tent, “something’s here.”

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

After retiring to the guest quarters of the large mansion, you began pacing the entrance way of the room. Nami had retired to her bed after changing into some sleep clothes, whereas Luffy and Zoro immediately decided to go on a quest to find more food and booze with your new associate, Usopp.

When Nami questioned you as to why you hadn’t changed and gotten ready for bed; you immediately confessed to unintentionally loaning your skills as a tinkerer to the unnerving butler, Klahadore. She was surprised at your admission, prodding slightly as to whether you truly were accepting a job or something else, which had you groaning and hung your head in your hands.

“It’s not like that,” you argued with your orange-haired associate, “he freaks me out!”

“And you’d never go for someone unnerving, right?” she quipped back with a small, knowing smirk.

You shot her a slight glare, but before you could say anything in response; a small tap appeared at the door. You turned to face the unopened gateway and acknowledged the source of the noise.

“Goodnight, Nami,” you said before opening the door to reveal the suit-clad butler you were just speaking about.

“Are you ready, Miss Tinkerer?” he asked you while craning his elbow out towards you. You accepted his elbow and laced your arm within his for him to guide you into the workspace he had created for you.

“I am, Mister Klahadore,” you replied with a small smile. He led you through the corridor and down the steps, stopping slightly at the entrance to the cellar before readjusting his glasses with the palm of his hand and continuing to lead you to the workshop.

Sure enough, there was a heavily lit workspace with all of the items you had half-heartedly asked for hours prior; including what you assume was a strong drink for you to enjoy while you worked. You walked over to the workbench and allowed a warm smile to grace it’s way over your face as you ghosted your fingers slightly over the finely kept tools. You quirked your head to the side and pursed your lips as you claimed a multi-purpose tool in the palm of your hand.

“You can keep that, once you’re done of course,” you heard Klahadore offer you, continuing to keep up his proper posture in the work space. You smiled at him and looked back down to the tool, testing it’s weight in your hands.

“And where is the piece I’ll be working on, sir?” you asked him, returning your gaze to the shifty butler who began circling you to seemingly slowly assess your reaction.

“Before I hand them over to you,” he began in a low tone, “I must ask you keep this matter purely confidential. Strictly for our eyes and ears only.”

You kept your gaze on his, weighing up the danger you potentially placed yourself in and knowing he could absolutely kill you if you spurted a wrong answer.

“Confidentiality is not my specialty, Klahadore,” you responded, keeping your tone monotonous, “however, some discretion can be arranged; under dire circumstances.”

He hummed in response, a small smirk beginning to twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Know this, tinkerer,” he seemingly purred at you, “once I hand this over, I will be completely exposed to you. You will know everything, understand?”

You held your chin high and narrowed your eyes at him; “you’re giving me one final out, am I correct in my assumptions?”

He nodded slightly before readjusting his glasses up his nose and fixing them in place with the palm of his hand. You placed the small multi-tool back down on the workbench before you.

“I am not afraid of a challenge,” you twitched your eyebrow slightly and made your way over to his body and extended your hands out to his, awaiting to receive your chosen task.

“So it would seem,” he allowed an unsettling smile to overcome his face. He reached behind his back and presented two black gloves to you, placing them within your outstretched hands. You furrowed your brows and bore your eyes onto the material of them, noticing small fixtures at the tips of the fingers.

“Claws?” you asked him, turning your gaze back to meet Klahadore’s. His expression held an unnerving intensity as he continued to fix his attention on your eyes. You chose to not engage or acknowledge his unnerving countenance, as you were priorly instructed by your father in life and death situations.

“Where are the blades?” you asked him, bringing your right hand to the tips of the gloved fingers.

“No longer attached,” he stated, looking down at the material he gave to you. You arched your brow and brought your attention back to his.

“And what would you have me do, Klahadore?” you asked him.

“Reattach them,” he replied with a smug, tight-lipped smile.

Part 6

[zayray030]

Your favorite ship with ace and headcanons about it?

I'm such an indecisive bitch so I quite literally do not have a favourite ship. However I do know which shops I prefer and which ships I don't care for so we're doing ones that I prefer!!

Treyace! Trey enjoys having Ace sit on the counters when he's baking and anytime he's baking cookies he let's Ace eat the cookie dough

Catace! Constantly couple photos. In fact Cater takes them out to fancy places because Ace's eyes widening cutely and he flushes prettily and Cater can never have enough photos of his boyfriend being that gorgeous

Leoace! Leona let's Ace skip classes in his dorm so long as Ace let's Leona use his thighs as a pillow and doesn't speak so Ace can speak. Also Leona encourages Ace to grow out his hair and Leona loves running his fingers through it

Rugace! The two of them together would have the combined dental problem of the entire school lmao. Those two enjoy buying the other bakes goods and when the other isn't looking they'll steal a bite of each others food.

FloAce! Floyd enjoys carrying Ace in many different positions. Bridal, over his shoulder, piggyback, like a newborn, legit any way he can carry Ace is a win for him

JadAce! Jade pierced Ace's ear and used one of his gemstones to get Ace a custom little earring like his

Jamiace! They enjoy making little golden jewellery for each other!!

Vilace! Ace routinely bullies Bils more rabid fans who try and make fun of Ace. He bullies them by taking pictures of Vils hands wrapped around him and sending them saying: "could never be you"

RookAce!! They have their wierd stalker thing that people wanna question but don't. Also Rook enjoys buying Ace clothes and makeup

IdiAce!! Idia begs Ace to wear cosplay outfits for him. Ace has repeatedly been restrained by Ortho so he doesn't burn the costumes

Malace!! Malleus tries to make meals for Ace but always ends up burning them. He then ends up restoring to giving Ace ice cream

Liliace!! Lilis is Ace's sugar daddy and I refuse to take critism

[generational-atrophy]

hetalia axis & allies (+ canada) xmas headcanons

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: uhhh christmas obviously. mention of religion and underwear?? uh... i think that's it

a/n: this is my first christmas as a jewish convert so that's been weird. anyway I just wanted something quick, so its mostly a list of gift ideas (:

America

Alfred is SUCH a huge Christmas fan. I mean, canonically he dresses up as Santa, so he goes all out for the entire month of December. He's been working on a huge holiday home display for decades, and it shows.

He plays Santa at his local mall during the weeks leading up to Christmas; and on the night of, he hands out hot cocoa outside his house. It's fun, but it also means he's a little distracted when it comes to you.

What he would get you: Posters of your favourite movies, super comfy pyjamas, expensive figures of characters you like, candy you like but never get for yourself, model planes or Legos for you two to build together, novelty pens, a stupid cowboy costume so you can match <3, those handmade coupons because he 1. Loves you and 2. Forgot about Christmas until yesterday

What he would want: Any video games, Funko Pops, vinyls of music he likes, those big packs of shirts (he is constantly running out of shirts because he rips or irreparably stains them,) Marvel comics, anything with an eagle on it, those mini wacky waving inflatable tube men things, bulk pens and pencils because he also breaks those constantly-

England

Arthur is not big into Christmas and never has been. He'll celebrate with you, but he's not going out when it comes to any aspect. If anything, he finds it a little exhausting getting gifts for everyone

But, he does adore walking around and looking at all the lights. He'll do that a couple times with you in December.

What he would get you: Any novel you’ve mentioned even once, tickets to a concert both of you will enjoy, classy jackets that fit you perfectly, cute keychains, fancy art supplies, fragrances that remind him of you, bags/purses that fit your style, CDs

What he would want: Sewing supplies (thread, new needles, new fabric scissors,) framed photos of the two of you, Doctor Who merch, foreign tea, a book on how to take care of your eyebrows properly (he will not learn otherwise,) slippers, those sarcastic magnets that all millennial women have at least one of, any ridiculous piece of merch with the union jack on it

France

Francis has very mixed feelings about Christmas. On one hand, he hates how consumerist it has become, but on the other hand, nothing makes him happier than seeing the joy the season brings to others.

Plus, he does enjoy giving and receiving presents. The music too? Wonderful. As long as you don't get too stressed out, the holiday should be perfect.

What he would get you: Tons of clothes; stuff that's already your style, and completely new stuff, room decorations (NOT posters,) a reservation at a nice restaurant, bracelets that he made for you, makeup (if you like that kind of thing,) candles that smell like his cologne, CHEESE

What he would want: Fancy fabric, any clothes (he doesn’t care what they are as long as you think they’d look good on him…) paintings or photography, literally ANYTHING creative you’ve made, hair ties (he loses at least 5 a day,) bird stuffed animals, (Basically anything! Francis is not picky)

China

Christmas is a new occurrence for Yao, and he isn't the biggest fan. He'll buy you stuff for it, but he would do that normally. The lights and the music aren't anything special to him either. Basically, he won't celebrate unless you want to.

What he would get you: Elaborate, very expensive jewellery, huge stuff like a car, Chinese cookbooks, traditional clothes that he made specifically to represent you (: luxury handbags (that he got at SUCH a good discount,) tons of weird off-brand merch of your favourite show, probably a nice meal too!

What he would want: Yao is hard to buy for. Soft robes, stuff to help with back pain, face masks, Hello Kitty keychains… reading glasses maybe?

Russia

Although he isn't as excited about Christmas as he is about the New Year, he still loves the holiday. It's a nice excuse to see family, and everyone is just so happy around the season! He's especially excited to celebrate it with you.

He's not the best at giving gifts, but he could be worse. Regardless of whether you like all of it, you're gonna get a lot of stuff.

(Also, he plays Santa for the kids sometimes. It's so cute-)

What he would get you: Random knick-knacks he probably found at a local market, knitted hats and gloves in your favourite colour, a scarf to match his, tickets to go somewhere warm on vacation, stuffed animals! books that made him think of you (usually philosophical or religious novels,) pretty rocks (:

What he would want: SUNFLOWERS! (This works for every occasion,) baked goods, clothes that aren’t 250 years old- new doilies and paintings to decorate his house, pictures of yourself, friendship bracelets, stuffed animals, if you can make a scarf somehow, DO THAT

North Italy

Feliciano cares about Christmas in a more religious way, but he's never mad about getting presents. So, he'll probably spend most of the day in church, but he still did put a lot of effort into getting you stuff you love.

What he would get you: Pajamas & bath robes, shitty romance novels that he wants you to read, weird hand-made knick-knacks, makeup, strange mugs that he found at a thrift store, a painting of you (: probably a pair of his boxers-

What he would want: New paint brushes, novelty pasta shapes, fancy jackets, any art that you’ve made (regardless of quality,) cat stuffed animals, The Ability To Get A Grip, skincare products, shiny garbage (For art purposes, duh,) those handmade coupon things

Germany

Ludwig does not enjoy Christmas particularly. He's terrible at giving gifts but he wants to so desperately that he spends all of winter stressing out about it. Yes, he's excited to see your reaction to his gifts, but at what cost?!

Although he does still like all the decorations at least. Maybe he just likes re-decorating though.

What he would get you: Puzzles you can complete together, soft sweaters, practical stuff you need (like book bags, lens cloths, that kind of thing,) stationery, reservations for private tours at museums you would find interesting, a subscription to whatever silly service you want (:

What he would want: Books about city planning, nerdy card games, a fun lanyard, a new coffee machine, those aroma-therapy diffuser things, household tools like vacuums and stuff (Get him an air fryer. He’s going to be fascinated.) stress balls, pens (He is boring.)

Japan

Kiku really has no particular feelings towards Christmas. If you weren't there, the most he would do was put up a mini tree. He's stressed out by both giving and receiving presents and is only willing to do that kind of thing if you want to.

What he would get you: Electronics, merch of your favourite Sanrio character, books that he thinks you’ll like, stickers, a bento box, comfy sweatpants, cute hairpins, plushies from your favourite media, a bunch of pillows, some obscure Japanese snacks too!

What he would want: Miku figures, posters, video games, manga, general nerdy stuff, history novels (he likes to correct them,) blackout curtains, cute face masks, a Polaroid camera, a guide on socialization (Seriously.) a knit scarf, if you can knit (:

South Italy

Romano desperately wants to care about Jesus more than getting gifts. He's a devout catholic, g*ddamnit! But... he does just really love eating baked goods and getting gifts more than anything. Getting together with family, the music, the lights, he just ADORES the holiday.

What he would get you: Blankets and pillows, your favourite snacks, clothes that are a little more revealing- cruise tickets (if going on wouldn’t be hell for you,) a journal where he wrote down all of the things he loves about you (completely honestly,) religious items, fancy perfumes

What he would want: Paintings from local artists, post-its (so he can finally remember SOMETHING,) anything with the Italian flag on it, stupid bumper stickers, pictures of the other nations that you’ve written insults on, fancy patterned scarves and fabric

Prussia

Like Alfred, Gilbert loves Christmas in a very childish way. He embraces that side of himself during the holidays and he'd love it if you joined him in that. He constantly insists on going out to see the lights, and he just can't get enough of Christmas movies. Even the bad ones (He's a Hallmark girlie.)

What he would get you: A vintage music box, hair dye, DVDs of your favourite movies (just to have,) stationery, random snacks he picked up from a gas station an hour ago, weirdly sentimental jewellery? Vintage journals, pictures of himself

What he would want: Coupons (???) goofy temporary tattoos, metal CDs, tea (he’s weirdly embarrassed about liking tea and doesn’t buy it for himself?) vintage maps that he can frame and hang up, probably like, WD40? DC comics, novelty trophies, Pokemon cards, video games

Canada

More than anything, Matthew loves winter. So, therefore, he loves Christmas! Seeing you smile when you open your gifts, he looks forward to it all season. It seems like the only time of year when everyone else is either as miserable or as happy as he is, so it's his favourite holiday.

Cuddling up in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa, watching some old Christmas movie, its all he wants.

What he would get you: Comfy hoodies, comfy slippers too, hot cocoa packs, big stuff like a new PC or fridge or smth- decorations for your room, face masks, fidget toys, novelty Canadian keychains, figures of your favourite characters, festive sweets (like candy-canes and stuff.)

What he would want: Anything with a maple leaf (yes, he wants MORE of that,) boring stuff like socks, wood-working tools or like a new snow shovel, fairy lights, DVDs (because he still uses them? Why.) a new phone case, gift cards (HES BORING,) pre-packaged crafts, lotion and cologne that smells like pine

merry christmas if you celebrate! this'll probably be the last full thing I post until 2024, so thanks to all you readers for sticking around this year (: you have no idea how much it means to me. i love yall. and to all a good night or whatever santa said

[flowerandblood]

The Pearl and the Sapphire (2)

[ modern! • Aemond x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, anxiety, angst ]

[ description: As a representative of a large family-owned gemstone business, Aemond is attending a major jewellery event where jewellery makers from all over the world are exhibiting. One of them is the Baratheon family. Aemond is tasked with focusing on attracting new customers, but his attention is diverted by the youngest daughter of the eminent maker Borros Baratheon. Slow burn, bitchy, possessive and obsessive Aemond, lots of dark angst and sexual tension. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in modern times. The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Series moodboard: Aemond & Miss Baratheon

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Working on costumes for their family's show at Crystal EXPO was the only thing that kept her from sinking into her grief and sadness after Cregan told her he felt he wasn't ready for a serious relationship yet. Although they had been together officially for several months, he had apparently realised that he was still attracted to other women and didn't want to deny himself from adventures with them.

Cregan was a handsome, warm and open men, constantly making her laugh. She met him when he came to their house to pick up an order for his father's jewellery shop and stayed for dinner with them. They immediately caught a great connection, found each other on Facebook and frequently wrote to one another.

She experienced her first time with him.

He was affectionate and gentle, took his time and gave her a huge sense of comfort, for which she was grateful. Before he even entered her he brought her to orgasm with his tongue, wanting to make sure she was definitely well moistened, and then with slow, gentle movements he took her on her bed in her bedroom, kissing her face tenderly.

Cregan was always frank and direct; she felt safe with him. However, she could see that at some point something was off, that something was wrong. One day she plucked up the courage to finally ask him what was going on and that's when he told her.

"There is a woman in my work. There is chemistry between us, but I would never hurt you or humiliate you with betrayal. However, the way I feel when I look at her has made me realise that I don't think I'm suited to a relationship with one person." He said and covered his face with his hands, his voice breaking as if he was about to cry.

She felt a tightness in her throat and stomach as she looked at him, sitting next to him on the couch, her hands clenched into fists on her lap.

"I'm so sorry. I like and appreciate you so much, I'm so comfortable with you. But…but I think I'd rather end this before I hurt you, you deserve better. Forgive me." He said and broke into sobs.

She stroked his back, feeling strange with the fact that she was the one who had to comfort him. She swallowed with difficulty tears that ran down her face.

He begged her to remain friends, to keep writing to each other, to keep in touch, but she said she needed a break and that she understood him. That she was grateful to him for telling her before he did anything bad.

Still, she felt pain at the thought that she wasn't enough.

She wasn't enough for him to want only her.

She didn't show in front of him how badly she had broken down so as not to further deepen his remorse, however, as soon as he left she called Royce and started sobbing into the receiver. Royce had finished work at his father's workshop early to come to her and spent the night in her room, just sleeping next to her and stroking her head.

He couldn't put his feelings into words, but he was always there for her when she needed him.

When she suggested to her father that their show this year would be themed and that she would sew outfits in which they would present their jewellery pieces he was delighted and kissed her forehead, teasing her skin with his rough beard. Her sisters were also thrilled that they would be able to perform in beautiful costumes at such a prestigious festival tailor-made especially for them.

Thinking about the show, planning everything and sewing filled her days between college classes making her feel better and better.

Once every few days she would get a message from Cregan telling her about his day, each time announcing at the end that he hoped she was doing well and that he was thinking about her constantly. On the one hand, she was glad that he hadn't forgotten her; on the other hand, she found it even harder to understand why they had broken up in the first place.

Months flew through her fingers and she didn't even know when there was only a week left until the whole event. Everyone was excited and had gone there early to prepare their stand. Royce poked her on the shoulder as they arranged the ruby necklaces made by their father on display.

"Have some fun. Pick out some rich snob and spend a nice time with him." He said, and she looked at him with pity.

"I don't think that would make me feel any better." She said amused, a wide smile on her face.

If it had only been about the adventure, breaking up with Cregan wouldn't have hurt her so much.

Before the show itself, she began to feel stressed. She and her sister looked beautiful, on the backstage she was still tweaking their hairstyles and tightening their gowns to make them look their best. Cassandra looked at herself in the mirror, turning with satisfaction.

"Great job, sister. I look like Marie Antoinette!"

Filled with euphoria and adrenaline, she remembered little of it when she and Royce stepped out into the middle, the lights directed at them so that she couldn't see the faces of those sitting around her. Her older brother's presence and smile gave her courage, she just looked at him to avoid distraction.

They knew the dance routines by heart and both had an excellent sense of rhythm, so dancing with him was a pleasure. She was frightened when she turned around during one of the moves and a blue glow flashed before her eyes.

What was that?

She turned again, falling into Royce's embrace, and they continued on for a while until finally the music ended and they moved into their final position. There was thunderous applause all around them. Royce took her hand and pressed it to his lips, placing a respectful kiss on her skin.

"I think you sold us perfectly, sister." He said amused, and she laughed lightly at his words, stepping closer to the audience with him to bow.

"We'll see about that yet, I'm curious…" She said and froze, seeing out of the corner of her eye a men looking at her with a look as if he wanted to kill her, in his left eye socket a large, sparkling sapphire.

Who is this?

She pressed her lips together, unsure of what to do, and blinked, reminding herself that she'd broken off in the middle of a sentence.

"…I'm curious if our father liked it." She said smiling again, bowing along with him, her brother's only response was 'I'm sure he did.'

She breathed a sigh of relief afterwards, when they returned backstage her sisters hugged her saying that it was a great experience and that they should do something similar next year.

She was glad that although they didn't always agree, this time she had the support of her whole family. Her father approached her in tears of emotion, saying that his works of art had never looked more beautiful and the audience was delighted.

For the first time since her split with Cregan, she felt happiness and warmth filling her body.

She and Royce decided to stay in their costumes at the banquet, wanting to draw attention to their father and their products. Borros thought this was an excellent idea and they entered the hall as a trio.

Indeed, they were surrounded by various celebrities congratulating them on their idea and workmanship, asking who was responsible for their attires and expressing admiration when her father boasted that his own daughter had sewn them.

"This is my greatest jewel." He said curtly. She felt embarrassed and looked away, feeling her cheeks burning.

She cast a glance around the hall and spotted from afar the man who had been watching her so demonically during her dance. He was looking at her again, but in the lamplight he looked less dark than she had originally thought.

He was tall, his light hair slicked back, dressed in a black turtleneck, jacket and trousers that perfectly emphasised how well built he was. His artificial sapphire eye sparkled, his scar stretching across the entire left half of his face aroused her curiosity.

She thought he was very brave and clever creating an asset out of his wound and smiled in his direction, wanting to show him that his appearance did not scare her at all.

She saw him tighten his lips and avert his gaze immediately, taking a greedy sip of alcohol from his glass, a mature woman in a long, tight gold dress was saying something to him, but he did not seem to be listening to her.

She wondered if they were together, but the age difference between them was striking.

Perhaps it was his mother?

When she finally pulled off all the layers of her gown in the evening and changed into a Tshirt she breathed a sigh of relief, feeling lighter. She got lots of messages on Instagram from people who found her after the show.

Once she had written them back she remembered the man she had seen during the dance and his disturbing fake sapphire eye. She asked her father at dinner if he knew who he was, and when he found out it was someone without an eye he said it was definitely Viserys Targaryen's son.

She knew that her father had turned down an offer from his grandfather to be their exclusive supplier. Her father, however, did not want to hear about it.

"They want to lock us in their golden cage, fill us with their paperwork and make us dependent. I'd rather be independent and pay more for the stones than let them put a collar on me." He told them then furiously, and none of them had the courage to contradict him.

She involuntarily typed the name 'Targaryen' into a google search to read a little more.

She knew that Viserys Targaryen was his father and one of the main directors of the company, but who was Aemond? She clicked on that suggestion and immediately knew she had hit on it. The first thing that popped up was a newspaper article, so she opened it right away.

She felt an unpleasant tightness in her stomach reading it all. She thought that if she read such things about herself in newspapers she would be horrified and heartbroken. The realisation that their own employees were reporting them to the press to make a bit of money on the side seemed horrible to her, let alone trying to maintain any privacy.

She thought she was not surprised to see no satisfaction or joy on his face, as he had no reason to be happy. He looked as if he was prepared to take a hit from either side, but only now did she understand why.

She thought she felt sorry for him.

The title 'One-eyed heir to a fortune' seemed cruel and mocking to her, as if the absence of his eye was the only thing that defined him as a man. She remembered the sapphire he wore and felt a kind of pride in the fact that he had turned his weakness into strength.

She thought she would like to get to know him.

To see what kind of man he was.

The opportunity came the next day. She was just choosing her tea at breakfast when she heard someone stand down beside her and place his cup under the coffee machine. She glanced involuntarily to the side and saw that Aemond Targaryen in the flesh was again looking at her as if he wanted to murder her. Her lips twitched in amusement, a smile appeared on her face.

"Good morning." She said softly, curious to see if he would answer her, dropping a bag of Earl Grey into her mug.

"Good morning." He replied after a moment, lowly, languidly, with some kind of tension, pressing the button for a double espresso in a reluctant manner, the machine rattled and liquid began to pour out of it.

She pressed her lips together, not knowing if she should say something or if he felt like talking. She poured two teaspoons of sugar into her cup, waiting for his machine to free up so she could pour herself some water, and glanced at him again.

She swallowed loudly when she saw that his gaze had moved from her mug to her face again, looking at her as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

She lowered her head, tightening her lips, not wanting to offend him, amused that for some reason she had apparently also piqued his interest, which he had been unable to verbally articulate in any way.

She saw that at her gesture he tensed all over and with a swift movement grabbed his cup, apparently wanting to leave. Her heart pounded harder and she looked behind him.

"Your sapphire eye. It's beautiful." She said, and only when it came out of her mouth did she realise how pathetic it sounded.

She wanted to use it to say how much she appreciated his bravery, but it sounded like she, like everyone else, was only paying attention to that one thing about his whole person.

She felt ashamed.

She placed her cup under the vending machine he was using, stepping closer, feeling her heart pounding hard. He didn't walk away, he stood looking at her, his gaze almost burning her.

"Who made these for you?" She added, pressing the button that caused hot water to start pouring into her mug. He was silent for a moment, but didn't move from his place.

"The Hightowers." He replied coolly and she looked at him again, his gaze full of tension, dark and indifferent, there was a vast, black void. She swallowed loudly at the thought, lowering her gaze and nodded.

"The jewellery you were wearing at the show. Will it be possible to see it up close?" He asked uncertainly, with difficulty, and she looked at him surprised, not expecting him to say anything else.

"Yes, of course. At our stand, they will be on display along with other works of my father and brother worn yesterday by me and my sisters." She said softly, and he furrowed his brow, as if something she said had puzzled him.

They both flinched and moved away with their mugs when a man apparently also wanting to make himself a coffee stopped behind them.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, his gaze still fixed on her, piercing and disturbing, making her shiver.

Why was he looking at her like that?

"See you later." She said lightly, and he merely nodded.

She moved towards the table where her family were sitting, feeling that her legs were as soft as cotton wool, her heart pounding in her chest like mad, her cheeks were all red from the effort that this exchange of words had turned out to be for her.

She glanced from the corner of her eye at the table where he was sitting, saw that he had said something to the woman sitting opposite him, the same one she had taken for his mother, his expression one of displeasure.

They were arguing about something.

She shuddered when she saw him get up suddenly and move to the exit, leaving the woman alone. She swallowed loudly when the woman turned her gaze on her, as if accusing her of something, and then took her things and left as well. She lowered her gaze to her tea and began to think hard.

What if they weren't family or co-workers?

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought of Cregan. She involuntarily grabbed her phone lying on the table and unlocked it only to see two new messages from him.

She pressed her lips together, feeling the pain, not knowing what to do. She knew that he wanted to continue their friendship, that in his own way he still loved her, but she felt tears under her eyelids.

She thought maybe it would have been better if he had left her alone, instead of tearing her wound over and over again whenever she thought it had had time to heal. She swallowed quietly and wrote him back quickly.

She locked and muted her phone, then set it aside so that she wasn't looking at the display. Royce looked at her anxiously, but didn't want to broach the subject in front of his father.

After they broke up Cregan was his number one enemy.

She managed to distract herself from her gloomy thoughts when they started working on the stand, they were attracting more interest than ever. Their show had been a huge success and she felt a burst of pride.

They had several ancillary rooms with illuminated tables. On one of them she laid out the jewellery she had worn the day before and other items in which sapphires had been used, to show them to Targaryen when he arrived, as promised.

After a couple of hours, when she had just finished talking to a customer, Royce approached her and grunted, a clear embarrassment on his face.

"Listen… young Targaryen wanted to talk to our father, but he said he didn't want to see him. He came with his grandfather. I don't know what to tell them, they just came here. Will you talk to him somehow? You have a talent for diplomatic refusal." He said, scratching his chin, and she laughed under her breath.

"I'll listen to what he has to say and then politely refuse him. If he say anything interesting, I'll pass it on to my father myself, maybe then he'll take it better." She said lightly and her brother nodded, patting her on the back and said he would replace her.

She stepped out from behind the counter and that's when she spotted him, standing in front of one of their shop windows, watching her vigilantly from the side.

"Come with me." She said softly and heard him move behind her with an unhurried step.

She led him into the dark room she had prepared for him earlier and made him realise that whatever he had to say to her father, he would have to pass it on to her first.

He looked at her from across the room like a predator, frowning his eyebrows, clearly not expecting this turn of events. She could see that he was thinking about something strenuously, saw his tongue involuntarily hit the inside wall of his cheek.

"We'll talk on my terms." He said coolly, and she tensed all over feeling that he was not happy with what he had just heard. She thought he was going to tell her that he wouldn't talk about business and such big contracts with a child.

"Tonight at 7 p.m. You, me, wine and a hotel restaurant."

She felt her lips part involuntarily, her heart stopping for a moment. She blinked, wanting to see something in his face that would tell her he was joking.

What?

She swallowed loudly feeling that she hadn't answered for too long, his gaze grew darker, he turned his face to the side, tightening his lips, impatient.

"I… yes, of course." She choked out finally, not knowing what else she could say. He looked at her again then.

"Mmm." It came out of his throat like a murmur, his lips curving for a second into what she could call a smirk of satisfaction. He turned and left without saying goodbye, closing the door behind him.

She was tired and sleepy after a full day on the stand; however, she also felt a strong rush of adrenaline at the thought that she was about to meet him. She opened the wardrobe in her hotel room, scratching her head, wondering strenuously what she should wear.

This wasn't a date, was it?

It was official meeting, but she wasn't prepared for such an occasion.

In the end her choice was a black suede fitted knee-length dress with a white collar and long sleeves, deciding it was the most elegant thing she had.

She decided to leave the blue ribbon in her hair, not wanting to look like she was going to a funeral, and took her pastel blue clutch bag with her, throwing her phone into it, not looking from the morning to see if she had received any messages.

She was afraid to look in there.

She walked down the stairs to the ground floor, heading for the hotel restaurant. She had no idea why but felt her legs shaking with stress. She turned up five minutes early and was pleased to find that he wasn't late either.

He was sitting at a two-person table arranged at the very end of the room, gazing out the window, his hand outstretched on the table moving restlessly. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, black Tshirt and black trousers.

She felt ashamed that she had dressed like a girl for the end of the school year, but it was too late to go back to change into something more lightweight. When she stopped in front of him he flinched suddenly and looked at her as if frightened. He stood up and they both looked at each other uncertainly, not knowing how they should greet each other.

She thought that she certainly couldn't embrace him, however, as a woman, she had to offer something else. She held out her hand to him and he swallowed loudly before shaking it, his hand was large and warm. She sat down opposite him, putting her clutch bag aside, smiling at him, trying to hide how stressed she was. She saw his gaze escape to the side, raised his hand and nodded towards the waiter.

After a moment a young men, not much older than her, approached them asking what they wanted to order. She was silent for a moment and then saw that Targaryen was looking at her expectantly, clearly wanting to hear what she wanted to drink. She leaned quickly over the card and glanced at him uncertainly.

"Red semi-sweet wine?" She asked more than stated, and he nodded.

"We'll have the whole bottle, please." He added, and she swallowed loudly, wondering how long this conversation was going to be and why.

Was he trying to tire her out and muddle her so that she would eventually succumb and accept his terms on behalf of her father?

She twisted uneasily in her seat at the thought, sensing that he was watching her closely and feeling like he could see her cheeks burning.

"Why did your father refuse to speak to me in person?" He asked abruptly. She looked up at him and grunted quietly, rubbing her palms against her knees in an attempt to calm herself.

She had no intention of lying to him.

"My father doesn't want to tie himself to you for a monopoly on supplies. He wants a free hand in this." She said, looking bravely into his face. His gaze was so intense that she felt a tightening in her pit. He tapped his finger on the table top involuntarily, as if he was thinking about something.

"It's a condition for such good prices. We can change them, but then the prices will also go up." He said coolly, and she pressed her lips together.

"That's why in his opinion it doesn't make sense. Why should he engage with you if at the end of the day you will offer him the same prices as the others, and you will be more demanding and restrict him more?" She asked and shuddered as the waiter placed a glass in front of her and then in front of him.

She fell silent as she waited patiently for the boy to pour them some wine and smiled as she saw his hands tremble, she thought he had worked here for a short time. She shuddered and moved away when a few drops fell on the tablecloth right next to her clutch bag, Targaryen gave him a warning look.

"I'm very, very sorry." The boy said, and she and he reached for a napkin, but she was quicker and applied it quickly to the stain, looking at him with a smile.

"Nothing happened, thank you very much." She said softly. He nodded and apologised a few more times before walking away, taking the dirty handkerchief from her.

She glanced at her companion, he was sitting leaning casually against the back of the chair watching her closely with the same gaze she had seen on their show.

"What do you mean by 'restricted'?" He alluded to her earlier statement as if something about it frustrated him. She swallowed loudly at the thought, wondering how to explain it to him so as not to offend him.

"My father values freedom of action. Also the choice of materials to work with. He now works with who he wants and decides for himself what is best for him. He fears that your company, with lawyers deliberating over every comma in the contract, will arrange it so as to influence his decisions as much as possible." She said finally, saw that he furrowed his brow at her words.

"You think we're going to try to trick your father?" He asked with a note of irritation, and she threw him an impatient look.

"Can I trust you?" She asked suddenly and saw that he froze, his lips slightly parted. He clenched his jaw and began to play with his fingers extended on the armrest.

Silence.

"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously, she could feel her heart pounding. She sighed quietly, not taking her eyes off him.

"I mean exactly what I asked. Can I trust you?" She repeated, looking at him pleadingly, simply wanting to hear that he meant well and understood what she was saying. His lips twitched impassively.

"No."

She looked at him and blinked rapidly, unable to believe he had said that.

No?

So what was the point of this conversation?

"You can't trust me, just as I can't trust you. You will protect your father's interests and I will protect mine. There is no friendship in business or holding hands in the sunset light." He said dryly and lowly, looking at her as if he thought she was out of her mind.

She furrowed her brow, feeling humiliation spread across her face, felt a burning sensation under her eyelids, but did not allow herself to show anything more.

"I didn't know that to trust someone you had to be able to be friends and hold hands. I thought it was enough to be a decent human being." She said in pain and for the first time she saw something twitch in his face, as if an electric current had passed through him, his hand clenched into a fist.

She reached for her glass and took a deep sip from it, feeling the dryness in her throat, her heart pounding like mad. She saw him turn his face away, running his hand over his chin, impatient, apparently trying to calm himself down internally. He, too, took his glass and took a deep sip from it, setting it down with a loud clink of glass.

"I'm not a decent person." He said finally, and she felt a tightening in her throat, as if he had slapped her.

Why did she feel around him like she did around Cregan when he broke up with her?

"Nevertheless, I have with me the terms and conditions of our company written down on paper, without paragraphs written in small print. You can look them over and determine whether you want to pass them on to your father or not." He said a little softer, biting his lower lip.

"We can't be together, I'm not ready, I want to have some fun. But we can be friends, I want to know what's going on with you, I miss you."

She felt tears running down her cheeks in embarrassment, her lower lip trembling involuntarily at the same feeling of humiliation.

She saw his healthy eye widen in shock, his lips parted. He swallowed loudly, looking at her in disbelief, and wanted to say something clearly, but they both flinched when her phone began to vibrate in her clutch bag.

She wiped her cheeks quickly, wondering what she had actually been doing, and with a trembling hand opened her purse, thinking it was her father or Royce looking for her. She felt a tightening in her stomach and turned pale when she saw that she had four new messages from Cregan and three missed calls from him, including one incoming.

The phone vibrated in her hand and she didn't know what to do, so she dismissed the call, slipping it quickly back into her bag. Targaryen looked at her as if he thought she was about to faint.

"… Are you all right?" He choked out finally, clearly horrified by her condition.

"No." She mumbled at the same time bursting out laughing, making an essentially pathetic mixture of it, grabbing the bottle standing next to her and pouring herself a full glass of wine, struggling to hold back the tears that were once again pushing their way into her eyes.

She drew in a loud breath and took a large sip, setting the glass down, looking at her hands, trying to calm herself.

She saw that he moved uncomfortably in his seat, swallowing loudly, his fingers rubbing together quickly in a sign of his anxiety. She looked at him surprised when, after a long moment, he suddenly leaned forward, took a bottle of wine from her side of the table and poured himself a full glass, as did she.

For a while they sat and drank in silence.

She felt embarrassment at the thought that she had taken it out on him for what Cregan was doing to her.

Whoever Aemond Targaryen was at least he did not lie and tried to be honest when she accused him of false intentions towards her father.

He had said nothing for which she had any right to condemn him.

She swallowed quietly at the thought and looked at him.

"I'm sorry. Thank you for your honesty. Can I have these documents?" She asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

He looked at her for a moment surprised, then nodded and reached for the folder lying next to him on the windowsill. He leaned towards her handing it to her.

She took it from him and saw that he had placed his elbows on the table, remained bent over, being closer to her. She smelled the scent of his perfume and aftershave, a pleasant, intense, masculine smell that made her head spin.

"Go over it calmly. You don't have to rush. My grandfather really cares about this and is willing to wait and read your version of the agreement if you want to present us with one." He said in a slightly softer, calmer tone, and she smiled gratefully at him and nodded.

"All right. Thank you." She said and squeezed her eyes shut as she heard her phone vibrate again.

She took it out and turned the sound off, putting it back in her purse. She saw that he was looking in that direction, involuntarily running his tongue over his lower lip.

"Someone doesn't understand the word 'no'?" He asked suddenly, and she looked at him surprised, not expecting him to dare ask anything private.

She could see that he too was surprised that the question had escaped his throat and swallowed loudly, waiting to see if she would answer him.

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, not knowing how she would explain her situation without going into detail.

"In a way." She said finally, grabbing for her glass again, feeling that at the moment the one thing that could calm her down was alcohol.

"Mmm." Came out of his throat, he lowered his gaze for a moment, as if thoughtful. He reached for his glass and also took a sip of wine from it.

"Let's move to my room." He said suddenly, throwing her an intense, anxious look, and she felt a shiver pass through her.

Not a proposal, not a question.

A statement.

What was he planning?

She swallowed loudly.

What if he did something to her?

What if he hurt her?

It seemed to her that he saw all these questions on her face, because he pressed his lips together, playing with his glass in his hand.

"We can think together about what to answer to a man who won't let you alone." He suggested, lifting his gaze to her again, a challenge in his eye.

She swallowed loudly, playing nervously with her fingers resting in her lap, her heart pounding hard like crazy, the alcohol slowly humming in her head.

Have some fun, she heard her brother's voice in her head.

"All right."

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[drainthehero]

Superboy and the Pink K, Ch 2

In the weeks following the incident with the pink Kryptonite, Superboy threw himself into his crime fighting activities. He would try to tell himself that the frenzy of effort was about making his town a safer place, but he could not dispel the gnawing emotions which raged within him following that humiliating encounter.

The young hero also told himself that his relocation to the booming city of Metropolis was to finally confront a new level of criminal element, but in truth he had been hounded by images from that day which could now never be fully erased. Every time someone in the town talked to him in his tight fitting costume he would assume they were imagining his diminutive cock beneath those skimpy red briefs.

Metropolis offered him a wonderful chance to be appreciated by a new sea of people that he was charged to protect. And the opportunities to be admired were plentiful. Having prevented bank robberies, car jackings, jewellery thefts and artefact heists, the Boy of Steel had quickly gained the adoration of the city.

One clear morning Superboy was flying over the city as he tuned his super powered senses toward any crimes underway. Quickly picking up on something he flew down to confront two thugs as they attempted to mug a well-dressed couple in a quiet laneway. The Teen of Steel landed and faced the thugs, blocking their access to protect the pair, hearing a sigh of relief from behind.

A wry smile lit the face of the handsome hero as he shook his head and raised an eyebrow. “Those guns are not going to do you any good against me.” Superboy folded his arms as he spoke, flexing his big biceps and puffing out his powerfully muscled chest as he cast a derisive glare at the weapons. “You should just put them down and come quietly.”

Not to be dissuaded the two thugs opened fire on the handsome young hero who just stood stoically as the bullets fell to the ground in front of his red boots. Superboy reached forward in a smooth motion and took a weapon in each hand, crushing them effortlessly with one hand.

The two thugs watched in disbelief as the superpowered teenager disintegrated their weapons, then rushed at him in a vain attempt to overpower him. Superboy merely grabbed each around the waist and picked them up in his powerful arms, before flying them off to the closest police station. As he deposited the two he wasted no time in returning to his rounds of the city.

Flying towards a new disturbance, the Boy of Steel landed in an abandoned warehouse where he discovered crates of drugs being unloaded for distribution. Superboy decided to make an entrance, causing the force of his landing to make a small sonic shock which grabbed the attention of the criminals, causing them to stop in their tracks.

The men were in a ragged semi-circle around him. “This criminal scheme of yours stops now, I won’t allow these drugs to be sold here in Metropolis.” As he addressed the group of men, he assumed his heroic hands-on-hips pose, flexing the impressive muscles which were barely concealed by his skin tight costume.

One man – likely the leader of this gang – stepped forward with his hands stretched forward in supplication. “Ahh. The one they call Superboy – so you are real then.” The Boy of Steel held his ground firmly and continued to look imposing at the leader. “Surely we can come to some kind of arrangement,” he had the gleam of a negotiator in his eye, “so you can look the other way.”

“The only arrangement we will be making today is for you - and all these drugs - to be handed over to the authorities.”

The leader shook his head slowly, “We outnumber you 8 to 1 kid. And I don’t think you have any weapons or tricks hidden in those skimpy tights of yours.” Superboy bristled at the disrespect to his classic costume. “So why don’t you leave us alone before we have to mash up your pretty face.”

“I had hoped to not need to show you my abilities in person, but it seems you would like this the hard way.” Even before he had finished speaking the group of men was rushing toward him with fists and weapons brandished. Not wanting to cause too much harm, the Boy of Steel easily disarmed them and bound them up with various pieces of steel from the warehouse.

Clapping his hands before him as he observed the subdued villains, Superboy called out, “Ok we’ve had our fun. Now it’s time for us to…” the voice of the young hero faltered as he felt his concentration wavering, unable to focus on what he had been saying.

His mind rapidly clouded over and no matter how much he shook his head to clear his thoughts, the thick fog would not lift. To make matters worse he could feel a strangely familiar heat spreading across his body.

The gang leader stepped around and into the view of the Boy of Steel, holding a necklace before the handsome but slackened face of the young hero. Superboy struggled to even focus his vision on the glowing pink gem attached to the necklace, but found himself starting to run his hands over his spandex covered muscles. “Ughhhh,” he moaned as he shook his head weakly. “No… no… not that.”

“Of course you remember this, Superboy?” said the criminal with mock dripping in his voice. As he continued to speak he placed the necklace over the head of the immobilised young hero and let it rest around his neck, with the gem hanging inside the iconic yellow S covering his chest. “You were exposed to this from the moment you interrupted us, so by now I presume the effects are running rampant across that sexy muscled body of yours.” As the pendant came to rest on the boy’s muscular chest, he let out a whimpering sigh which was accompanied by a pained expression on his handsome features.

“Now. Stop touching yourself, Superboy.” When he did not immediately comply, the leader placed one hand firmly on the thick muscled pectoral of the young hero, causing an immediate whimper from the very aroused Teen of Steel. As the hand was withdrawn Superboy gave a small whine and looked up with eyes of a hurt puppy.

“Please…” he started but was immediately cut off.

“I said,” reiterated the criminal firmly. “Stop touching yourself.” Superboy immediately complied and forced his arms to his side and managed to focus his gaze on the hand, as it then resumed its position on his chest. “Good boy,” he continued. “Do as you are told and you will get more of this than you can handle. Now put your hands on your head and flex your biceps, Superboy.”

A look of longing had settled on the beautiful young face of the hero and he nodded, “yes sir.” The Boy of Steel complied without hesitation, forcing his big biceps to harden beneath the bright blue spandex, and was then rewarded with the other hand feeling a bicep before the criminal leaned in to kiss the young hero, who returned the passionate kiss eagerly.

After the kiss was finished both hands were removed from the Teen of Steel, who once more looked like a hurt puppy.

“Aww, look at those big sad blue eyes,” commented the leader. “Do you want some more worship, Superboy?” was met with an emphatic nodding of the head. “Good boy, now free my men so they can get back to work.”

In a blue and red blur of movement, Superboy freed all of the men before resuming his position with hands on his head.

“Collins and Masters,” barked the leader. “Over here and get to work like we practiced. The rest of you continue to load those crates.”

As the thugs returned to their tasks, two young men moved to stand in front of Superboy and then slowly removed their clothing, each revealing a duplicate costume of the super powered teen beneath their outer clothes. Both men had amazingly ripped physiques which were easily bigger than the Boy of Steel, who was mesmerised by the beauty of the costumed muscle hunks which were god-like copies of himself.

At a nod, the two men sandwiched the young hero, pressing their spandex clad muscles firmly against him before running their hands over his biceps and body. Finally, one boy locked his lips onto the Boy of Steel for a deep and passionate kiss while the other sucked on the sensitive neck of the hapless hero.

For his part, Superboy was completely lost to the bliss of this muscle orgy, moaning and writhing uncontrollably. The leader simply stood back and enjoyed the spectacle as it unfolded, his hard cock visibly outlined beneath his tight denim jeans.

“Are you enjoying them Superboy?” The only response was a gurgled moan through the kiss which had not yet been broken. The young men had been hand picked for their attributes by the leader, believing that their superior muscles would evoke even more submissiveness from the musclebound Teen of Steel. “Good. Phase two.”

Collins broke the kiss and took a step back from the young superhero, leaving Masters to run his hands freely over the muscled body. Collins then proceeded to flex and pose his huge muscles, causing Superboy to gaze and moan with undisguised lust.

“Do you like his muscles Superboy? Doesn’t the costume show them off nicely?” Superboy nodded enthusiastically. “I think he might have even bigger muscles than you, Boy of Steel.”

A confused look crossed his face as he absently nodded in agreement, continuing to watch the flexing. “May I please feel his muscles, Sir?”

“Good manners, my boy, but first we need to compare your muscles.”

Standing across from each other both young men proceeded to flex their muscles as the measurements were read out by Masters. As each number was announced and it was clear that Collins had bigger muscles than Superboy across the board, the mind of the poor hero was overwhelmed by his inadequacy and the ongoing lack of touch from either of the muscled hunks.

As the last measurement was confirmed, Superboy looked up in defeat. “He is truly bigger than me, Sir. He fits that costume even better than me.”

During the process all the boys maintained rock hard boners, which continued to drive Superboy crazy with lust, as precum stained the bright red briefs of his costume.

“He does indeed Superboy,” agreed the leader in thought. “Maybe it is you who should be doing the worshipping?”

“Yes please, Sir. Command me and it shall be so.”

“In good time. But we have not yet finished. I did say all muscles didn’t I?” he said as he let his eyes drift lazily down to the precum stained red pouch and its contents.

Superboy immediately felt his cheeks burn red with shame. “Ah… every… muscle?”

“Of course, and it looks to me as though you are all ready to be measured. Let’s whip them out, but I will help you with yours Superboy as your hands must remain where they are.”

As Superboy moaned a protest to the imminent humiliation, Collins and Masters immediately undid their bright yellow belts and pulled their hard cocks out of their briefs, displaying their monstrous meats.

Meanwhile, the leader moved over to the young hero and carefully removed the yellow belt. Ignoring the poor heroes please of, “please sir, don’t,” he lowered the red briefs and reached his hand inside to free the shaft and balls from their confinement. The Teen of Steel was torn by conflicting emotions as the shame of his diminutive member was clearly put on display while he was massively turned on by his hard little cock being touched and played with. “Ughhhh, your hand feels so good sir.”

“My, my, Superboy. From here it looks as though my boys might have you beaten for this muscle too.” He positioned Collins so that his big 9” cock engulfed the small cock of the hero. “What do you think? Shall we measure them?”

Superboy gulped and shook his head, feeling his cheeks burn an even brighter shade of red. “Please don’t,” he implored. “My little dick is so tiny, Sir. I can’t even see it under that monster cock.”

Despite the protests by the Boy of Steel, the measuring tape was quickly deployed and read out. “8.5 inches for Masters, 9.5 inches for Collins and…” a dramatic pause while the tape was held once more alongside the hard shaft, “4 inches for the … Rod of Steel.”

“That is pretty clear Superboy, all of your muscles are inferior to those of my Supermen.”

The defeated and humiliated hero hung his head in shame. “It is true, Sir. They are superior to me in every way, and even look better in my costume. Please, sir, may I touch and worship them?”

At that query, Collins brought his arms up and flexed all of his huge muscles through the spandex, eliciting a whimper from Superboy. “Please Sir, I will do anything you ask.”

“Alright, I will consider your offer while you worship the true super muscled body here.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Without pause, and with his small cock still on display and leaking precum, the Boy of Steel proceeded to feel, kiss and lick all over the flexing form of the hunky criminal. “Please Sir, may I cum? My cock is so hard and my balls are so full.”

“You mean your pathetic little cock?” corrected the leader. “You are not permitted to stroke yourself. Ask the real Supermen if they would like to help you cum.”

“Yes Sir,” replied Superboy, shame dripping from his voice as he corrected himself. “My pathetic little cock is so hard and throbbing. Please,” he directed at Collins and Masters, “would you stroke my pathetic little cock so I can cum?”

Collins gave a disgusted look as he replied. “Do you see our cocks, Superboy? Wrap your hands around them.” The young hero complied, letting out guttural moans as he felt the girthy shafts. “Good boy. Now, tell me, why would we want to touch your tiny little rod when we have these big shafts to properly fill our hands?”

A few tears of shame rolled down the handsome face of the young hero as he slowly stroked the two big cocks and replied, “you wouldn’t, Sir. They feel so good to hold.” A spark of initiative flashed across his eyes as he stroked the big members. “May I make you cum then, Sirs?”

“Soon Superboy,” interjected the leader. “But first, you promised me a favour and it is time for you to deliver.”

“Of course, Sir,” replied the honourable young hero. “Anything if I can worship these Supermen.”

A strengthened alloy dildo was lifted out of a wooden box, causing the eyes of the young hero to widen with apprehension as he gulped and took in its meaning.

“Given the inferior nature of your muscles compared to my own Supermen, you are the logical one to have your super ass fucked like a good submissive boy.”

The conflict was clear on the handsome face of the Teen of Steel. But even as he considered the request, he continued to feel the muscles of the spandex clad “Supermen”, feeling his need for release grow even further. “And when,” he ventured, “I am wearing these. Please will you permit me to stroke your Supermen to cum?” The lust was clearly evident as Superboy continued to feel the magnificent muscled bodies.

“Of course, Superboy,” came the response. “A deal is a deal, and the big cocks of my Supermen deserve to blow their loads after all.”

“Oh god,” moaned Superboy as the criminals continued to flex and pose under his touch, also touching the muscles of the teen hero to increase his arousal and desperation. “God, yes please do it. I need to stroke these huge cocks and watch them blow.”

The big dildo was affixed to a bolt in the floor as the iconic red briefs were lowered, exposing his smooth bubble butt.

“Good boy, my handsome hero. Spread your legs and lets get this dildo into you so it is nice and tight.” Superboy spread his legs wide as the leader took a large amount of lubricant in his hand then leaned in for another passionate kiss as he ventured a finger down to cover the tight smooth hole in lubricant. The contact and intimacy caused the hero to moan and shudder as erotic convulsions wracked across his muscled frame.

“Oh god, Sir. Your finger feels so good on my ass.”

Liberal amounts of lubricant were then applied to the domed head of the dildo and Superboy used his power of flight to hover above it with legs spread wide before lowering himself onto the reinforced alloy shaft, moaning from the pain as his tight virgin hole was penetrated for the first time. The alloy shuddered from the force of the tight Hole of Steel, so the leader wrapped his hands around the balls and shaft as he whispered, “relax, Superboy.” He very lightly massaged the head, careful not to make the Teen hero blow his load. “Don’t fight it, just relax your body and let it glide inside of you.”

Superboy let out a relaxed sigh which was immediately followed by a cry of pain as he sank a few inches down and felt the dildo enter his virgin hole. The Supermen continued to worship the muscular hero, while pushing down on his shoulders to drive him further down and deeper onto the shaft, until finally 7 inches of metal were buried deep in the ass and guts of the Boy of Steel.

“Well done, Superboy,” congratulated the leader. “How does that feel inside you?”

“Arghhh,” groaned the hero, continuing to drive himself all the way down the shaft until he sat on the ground. “It hurts so much, like my ass is being torn open. But it also feels good to be doing this for you, Sir, and for your hand to be on my little Rod of Steel.”

“Now you may stroke my real Supermen and make them cum.”

“Ughhh, thank you sir,” groaned Superboy in bliss. The two muscle studs moved up to point their big hard cocks directly at the Boy of Steel, who realised that they would empty their load over his chest and stomach.

Eagerly taking a cock in each hand, Superboy enjoyed the sensation of the full girth in his hands and started to stroke with earnest.

“Oh sir, it feels so great to hold and stroke real cocks. They make my hands feels so small!”

The two Supermen flexed their bodes for the visual enjoyment of Superboy, also reaching forward and running their free hands over his muscles, causing Superboy to moan and leak even more precum from his rock hard little boner.

As he continued to enjoy himself, it became clear that Superboy was even raising and lowering himself on the dildo, clearly liking the feeling of the metal alloy fucking his ass. For their part, Collins and Masters were lost in the sensation of being jerked by the sexy young hero and were clearly approaching climax.

The leader positioned himself behind the Boy of Steel and added his own roaming hands, whispering into his ear. “Such a good boy, hero. Ass filled and jerking two cocks.” Superboy merely moaned in ecstasy and continued to pump the two big cocks.

The two Supermen both moaned they were about to cum. Moments later, thick jets of cum erupted powerfully from the two studs, lashing the Boy of Steel with multiple blasts of jizz. He felt the heat of the juice as it landed on his chin, chest and stomach and continued to milk the cocks while the two men moaned.

In a frenzy of lustful need, Superboy drove himself deeper still onto the dildo and without any warning felt his own hands-free climax hit. He shouted in joy as large gobs of superpowered cum shot from his cock to fly over the heads of the muscled studs and land far off in the distance. The glow from the synthetic pink kryptonite faded and it once more became a dull lifeless rock.

The leader quickly took in the unexpected turn of events and realised it was time to go. Signalling to all his men they rapidly dropped everything and made a hasty escape. While the poor Boy of Steel merely continued to sit impaled on the alloy dildo as his small and soft shaft dribbled cum.

When the pink K haze finally lifted, Superboy found himself alone, covered in cum and still impaled by the big dildo. Groaning, he exercised his power of flight and lifted himself off slowly, confused by an unexpectedly enjoyable sensation as the dildo pulled out of him.

He grabbed at the pendant swinging from his neck but noticed that it was no longer glowing. With a quick nod of decision, Superboy grabbed both the pendant and the alloy dildo and flew off to clean himself up.

[lapsusophobia]

The Things Your Heart May Well Regret

Chapter Five

‘And when I break it’s in a million pieces’

Read it now on AO3!

(must be a registered user!)

NOTE: I posted it a little bit earlier but forgot to make a banner. I know I’ve been absent for quite a while, but I hope this chapter pays off for at least half of my time away. also, the title is a lyric from Taylor Swift’s “mirrorball” hihi.

SMALL EXTRACT

She could bet that more than half of the guests in this entire Opera House did not come here to actually congratulate her and Gabriel. They didn’t come here tonight to be happy for her, didn't commission all of those expensive costumes and ball gowns to celebrate with her. They came here to observe, to judge and make her feel more miserable than at any party she had attended. They came to ignore her and show her once again that she did not belong to their world. No matter how beautiful her dress was, how expensive her jewellery or who she’d be marrying or who her father was.

She would never be one of them. And tonight wasn't any exception.

‘I hate it here.’ she muttered to herself, taking a mouthful of champagne.

[evansbby]

Hello, merry christmas to everyone who celebrate! ✨🤍

My question is how omega steve and rosie spend Christmas this year? What Santa will give to babygirl

and what Steve got Omega and Omega got Steve?

I hope you well 🩷

Awww thank you! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! ✨✨✨✨

Steve, omega and Rosie spend Christmas at the big Rogers’ mansion with Steve’s parents! It is Rosie’s first Christmas so everyone dotes on her and she has a whole room full of presents! (Seriously, they have a gigantic tree but they couldn’t fit all of Rosie’s presents under it, so in one of the guest bedrooms, all the rest of Rosie’s gifts are stockpiled, filling the room to the brim).

Rosie is the centre of attention as omega and Steve and the grandparents all dote on her and take pictures of all her reactions! She receives a ton of baby toys, picture books, colouring books, dolls, playsets, clothes and more! Rosie is enjoying everything despite her being only about a year old. She even gets a life-sized doll house and a little Barbie car to drive around in! (She’s too small so she just sits inside and looks happy while Steve pushes her).

Omega is very happy to have such a lively Christmas atmosphere as she didn’t grow up with this sort of thing. It makes her emotional to see Rosie get all the love that omega did not get while growing up. She takes a dozen pictures of Rosie on her Polaroid camera (she’s dressed Rosie up in a cute red frock with white patterned leggings for her chubby legs and shiny black shoes!) and she adds them to her scrapbook “Rosie’s first Christmas” 🥹🥹🥹

As for omega’s gifts… well, Steve goes all out. There’s a second guest bedroom that’s stocked full of gifts for her too. Expensive clothes and jewellery, shoes, everything! He even hand paints a portrait of omega and Rosie and frames it and gives it to her and she loves that, she loves how Steve draws her. Steve’s mom gifts omega a solid gold bracelet that is a Rogers’ family heirloom that has been in the family for generations. Steve’s dad gifts her a monogrammed journal with her initials on it and some expensive pens. Omega has never felt so loved 🥹🥹

She gifts Steve a scarf she knitted for him all by herself. It’s become a tradition for her to do that and he loves it and puts it on straight away. She also buys him a new three piece suit because she has good taste and knows what will match his eyes best. She also gives him a special private gift in a special private costume 😌 and Steve loves that too. 🩷🩷🩷🩷🥹🥹🥹🥹

[chaaistained]

hello ^^ from the Pretty Flower ask game: 🪷 & 🌷 please ╰(*´︶`*)╯

hi lovely anon !! thank you for the ask darling xx

you’re a pretty flower yourself ≈

idk what dr you wanted but if it’s open ended and you don’t mind whichever then i’m glad bcs i’ll be answering for my KPOP DR bcs it’s on my mind ohmygod aksjdjs

🪷 : LOVELY LOTUS . . . do you and your significant other(s) do any "cheesy" stuff? like having matching pajamas, matching halloween costumes, and picnic dates? or building the flower legos, cooking together, baking together?

honestly the cheesy stuff is mostly how we get that adrenaline rush of teasing our relationship to our fans without having to explicitly confirm it. trust, my realities fandoms aren’t horrible and wouldn’t suddenly switch up to burning you at the stake bcs you feel a romantic attraction to their bias .. like i’d ever put myself in that situation . no. but, there is still a little stigma around dating while you’re an idol, not necessarily because of fans but bcs of your peer relationships — if you break up .. it would make things awkward. so idols keep their relationships a secret. anyway, not the point. CUTE CHEESY THINGS WE DO — we share jewellery mostly. i’m not a silver girly, gold all the way and the entire fandom knows this, so whenever i wear silver on stage, it’s obvs that it was handed to me by my stylist and i just didn’t bother saying anything (bcs ya know, on stage there’s a cohesion that the group must follow, individual aesthetics be damned). but even off stage?? if i’m wearing a silver necklace or a ring that i keep playing with, that’s when it’s jungwon’s.

we also match colours a lot in our outfits, so if a lot of groups are travelling to an event or award show in a different country and we’re all gonna have airport appearances, jungwon and i coordinate colours a little. idk we find it fun aksjdjfjskd so if he wears a dark blue jumper (ya know the one? with the fuzzy material and the white writing? yeh that one that i’ve fallen asleep in more times than i can count) i’d wear a dark blue top or dark blue sweat pants, idk, something to match shades but not the exact. same. clothing item, ya know?

finally, we watch things together, we like split screen or voice/video call on discord and screen share to watch at the same time and we like talk to each other while we binge. it’s easy bcs we don’t have to travel to each others dorms and encroach on our other members and their space, but we still get to hang out. and brooo the way jungwon and i end up rambling about god knows what, jumping from topic to topic, shooting off on multiple tangents and then realising the episode we were watching has finished, the next one has started, and we haven’t been paying attention for the last half hour. but we never mind bcs it’s still time spent together?

🌷 : TIMELESS TULIP . . . what was your relationship with your significant other(s) like before you started dating? were you friends? enemies? academic rivals? did they know you liked them? did you know they liked you?

friends to lovers !! and coming from an enemies (to friends) to lovers truther — this works best in most cases. e2l is all fun to witness on screen or via the pages of a novel, but irl? f2l is the way to go imo (that being said .. i have a Lot of e2l tropes in my drs still so .. take my trope opinion with nuance pls) anyway

i’m gonna be rehashing this in some other post abt my kpop dr but jungwon and i met at the start of 2021 when seven of the 04’ liners in kpop were called to come and partake in a variety show !! a lot of idols were called but only seven of us were allowed by our companies to participate. the show was called 24시간 친구 (24 Hour Friend) where idols of the same age are called to spend a day with the variety show, we’re taken to a few locations, we play games, we use teamwork and we all get a chance to interact and we even have a sleepover in the end (obvs they separated the girls and the guys esp bcs it’s usually a show for young idols — teens and young adults — bcs young idols tend to not have many friends and this show promotes friendships within the industry)

after meeting there, jungwon and i (along with the others) remained close, like we became a friend group. other 04’ idols would join us and hangout but the seven of us were tight.

honestly, i can’t remember exactly how i fell for jungwon, it just kind of happened. he was one of my close friends and then, suddenly, he was one of the most important people in my life. i think it was because of how close clarity became with enhypen (our groups have a close friendship too) regardless of clarity being well known social butterflies within the industry, there’s something special about our friendship with en- and i can’t really explain it

i don’t think jungwon knew about my feelings for him, to be fair, i kinda hesitated to treat him differently to my other guy friends so i didn’t exactly make it clear

but i sort of figured out his feelings after my solo schedules became busy — constant mc-ing for award shows, collabing with other male idols for drama ost’s, stuff like that — and.. yeh jungwon kinda pulled away which made things a bit prickly between us , until i finally confronted it and found out that my suspicions were correct

there’s so much more that goes into this, like, moments that we share prior to dating, and our interactions while dating in secret, etc, so i will be posting about it . eventually

.

.

.

[ ask game link ]

cuppa queries; order in — ask responses

2025 © chaaistained

[yurisek]

Not So Berry Challange? Kinda

I stumbled upon lilsimsies Not So Berry Challange and I really wanted to try it out, since it's that time again when I'm getting bored of The Sims because I don't know what to do there. So I dedicated a few hours of my life to redoing this challange to my liking, and named it The Rainbow Challange (how original, right?). It has 10 generations, starting at the colour white and ending at the colour black. I have every pack, so I didn't really pay any mind to what packs I'm including. Also, I put likes, dislikes, turn-ons and turn-offs for every generation, but those are just details, really.

Basic rules: 1. Each heir must represent the colour of the generation (hair, clothes, their house..) coloured skin is not necessary 2. The colours of the spouses doesn't matter 3. You can live wherever you want in it isn't specified in the rules of a generation 4. Play on normal lifespan 5. Start the first (white) generation as a young adult sim 6. Occult sims are welcome :D

Generation one: White You're an angel, really. You're all about sticking to the rules, you have never done anything bad. You love socilaizing and helping others. Family and friends are everything to you.

Aspiration: Friend of the World (Popularity) Traits: Outgoing, Neat, Family-Oriented Career: Doctor Likes: White, Optimistic Sims, Classical Music Dislikes: Arguments, Ambitionless Sims, Programming Turn-ons: Family Motivated, Affection, White Clothes Turn-offs: Taken, Slacher, Messy

Rules: -Master the Doctor career and complete the Friend of the World aspiration -Master the charisma and logic skill -Marry a co-worker and have (at least) two kids with them

Generation two: Pink You were given lots of love your whole childhood, so now you're all about sharing it with others. In highschool you joined the cheer team/football team. Oh, and you're obsessed with your garden.

Aspiration: Romantic Explorer (Love) Traits: Generous, Romantic, Lovebug Career: Romance Consultant Likes: Pink, Romance Enthusiasts, Preppy Fashion Dislikes: Shabby Decor, Pranks, Horse Riding Turn-ons: Clean, WooHoo, Pink Clothes Turn-offs: Gift Giving, Egoistical, Enhineering

Rules: -Have at least five different partners throughout your life -Complete the Romantic Explorer aspiration

Generation three: Red You have been born a chef, honestly. You're all about food, you love going out to a restaurant ot something similar, you never say no to a sweet treat. You have a degree in Culinary Arts.

Aspiration: Master Chef (Food) Traits: Foodie, Snob, Ambitious Career: Food Critic Likes: Red, Cooking, Egoistical Sims Dislikes: Rascals, Singing, Acting Turn-ons: Culinary, Highly-Skilled, Red Clothes Turn-offs: Homebody, Costumes, Pessimistic

Rules: -Master the Food Critic career and complete the Master Chef aspiration -Master the cooking and mixology skill, have gourment cooking on at least level seven -Must play an instrument -Must live in another world than the one they were raised in

Generation four: Orange You're all about fame. You've been posting on social media ever since you were a teenager. You join a drama club as an afterschool activity and you continue to study drama in university. You want to become a well known celebrity.

Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity (Popularity) Traits: Nosy, Self-Absorbed, Self-Assured Career: Actor Likes: Orange, Acting, Compliments Dislikes: Potty Humor, Basics Decor. Metal Music Turn-ons: Affection, Academics, Orange Clothes Turn-offs: Rocker, Broke, Argumentative

Rules: -Become a Global Superstar and have a tile on Starlight Boulevard -Move to Del Sol Valley -Have a pet named Judith -Have a vault at home -Have exactly three kids

Generation five: Yellow Relax. That's your life motto. It's all about relaxation. Why worry about something when you can just... meditate? You make crystal jewellery for a living and you love it. There's not a single room in your house without a crystal.

Aspiration: Inner Peace (Wellness) Traits: Practice Makes Perfect, Socially Awkward, Bookworm Career: Freelancer Likes: Yellow, Gemology, Wellness Dislikes: DJ Mixing, Mixology, Malicious Interactions Turn-ons: Nature Enthusiasts, Nature, Yellow Clothes Turn-offs: Polished, Drink Making, Media & Technology

Rules: -Master the gemology, wellness and athletic skill -Marry your high school sweetheart and stay with them until you die -Have a greenhouse -Must live in a 'needs TLC' apartment for entire young adult life

Generation six: Green You're the type of person to put money above anything else and everything else. You're a workoholic and love to brag about your wealth. Your house is full of the most expensive furniture, and you only wear polished clothing.

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy (Fortune) Traits: Materalistic, Art Lover, Squeamish Career: Business Likes: Green, Piano, Polished Fashion Dislikes: Basics Fashion, Baking, Romance Music Turn-ons: Gift Giving, Wealthy, Green Clothes Turn-offs: Broke, Culinary, Emotional Decision Makers

Rules: -Master the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration -Master the charisma skill, have at least level five in horse riding and at least level three in bowling -Have a gym and a theatre at home -Own at least ten knight statues -Have at least three pets

Generation seven: Blue You decided that you don't want to live the life your parents did, so you move out to Henford-on-Bagley and become a farmer. Your parents gave you some money to help you out, but that's the only money you accept from them. You're happy without the millions.

Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiasts (Nature) Traits: Animal Enthusiast, Clumsy, Rancher Career: Gardener Likes: Blue, Knitting, Small Talk Dislikes: Cerebral Sims, Robotics, Skiing Turn-ons: Health & Sports, Pet Enthusiast, Blue Clothes Turn-offs: Performer, Spirited, Wealthy

Rules: -Miust attend scouts after school -Must go camping at leats five times in their life -Must move out onve they're a young adult -Master the gardening skill, have the flower arranging and the archeology skill on at least level five -Bring Patchy the Strawman to life

Generation eight: Purple You've been seeing things ever sicne you were a child, right? And no one belived you. So you started writing about it into your diary, and when you were old enough, you published a few books about the paranormal.

Aspiration: Bestselling Author (Creativity) Traits: Paranoind, Loner, Creative Career: Writer, Paranormal Investigator Likes: Purple, Photography, Gossip Dislikes: Complaints, Fishing, Rocket Science Turn-ons: Arts & Crafts, Sense of Humorm´m Purple Clothes Turn-offs: Romance Enthusiast, Gift Giving, Idealist

Rules: -Write at least fifteen books about the paranormal -Move out to Old Penelope in StrangeVille (don't change the lot to a purple one, keep it) -Master the writing and medium skill

Generation nine: Brown Isn't being good boring? Someone has to be th eone to cause mayhem. Would your parents or grandparents be proud of you? No, definitely not. But it's fun, being the different one. Oh yeah, you also have a degree in villany.

Aspiration: Public Enemy (Deviance) Traits: Evil, Vegetarian, Gloomy Career: Criminal Likes: Brown, Singing, Deception Dislikes: Discussing Interests, Optimistic Sims, Island Music Turn-ons: Wealthy, Argumentative, Brown Clothes Turn-offs: Baking, Painting, Horse Riding

Rules: -Master the Criminal career and complete the Public Enemy aspiration -Master the singing skill -Have twins (or just two children) - be good friends with both of them -Live in at least three different worlds over the course of your life

Generation ten: Black You have learned a lesson form your parent and decided that you want to be nothing like them. You get a degree in psychology and dedicare your life to doing the good and stopping the bad.

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim (Knowlage) Traits: Good, Proper, Loyal Career: Detective Likes: Black, Research & Debate, Stories Dislikes: Cosmolux Decor, Cross-stich, Strange Tunes Turn-ons: Career-Minded, Physical Intimacy, Black Clothes Turn-offs: Self-Employed, High Energy, Slacher

Rules: -Complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration -Must play the pipe organ -Adopt at least one child -Get married for the firsz time as an elder

Belive it or not, but it really did take me a few hours to write all of this down, so I just wanted to share it somewhere, where someone can perhaps use it as well. Happy Simming!