#generally purple flowers are for success and adoration

[zhongrin]

flowering

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham (poly)

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, afab!reader, poly, threesome, pwp, biting & marking, probably ooc zhongli and al haitham, dragon!zhongli (bc of course it is), nicknames (pet, royal highness), slight dacryphilia, teasing, hints of possessive behavior, creampie, overstimulation, just- this is just pure filth okay? s h u s h

◇ a/n ◇ second submission for my ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ϟᴜᴘᴇʀᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ collab

ngl this was heavily inspired by the dynamics in azeru’s 3p nsfw asmr jshkdhdks

𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

little purple flowers marking your body make for the loveliest accessories, they think.

with every bite and tender massage of their lips, the small flowers bloom across the span of your bare skin; from your neck all the way down your thighs, wilting lilacs and fresh rose petals painted directly onto the tissue.

no other pieces of jewelry could compare, especially not those cor lapis necklaces and bracelets that the other man would constantly give you. you look better adorned in silver than gold, shine better in green than dull dark browns. al haitham tells this to you constantly, not with words but with actions and gifts rivaling the ex-archon: glittering silver anklets, silky green gowns that hint at the curves of your body, and quill pens from the feather of a hawk.

and like always, zhongli would merely chuckle and smile, musing about how youths are so competitive these days and how nostalgic it is to see someone so desperate, as if they have everything to lose… yet you’re still swamped by his romantic endeavors nonetheless - traditional gentlemanly courtships, flowers, gifts of gold, necklaces with a shiny looking scale that’s unusually large, dark brown layered with golden sheen, pulsing with geo energy as you tilt it under the sun.

despite all this, however, they make a fearsome duo. a team that works out wonderfully, a dynamic that makes you breathless and crave for more. it matters not whether they work together or against each other, for the end result is always, always the same.

truly, barely anything matters when you’re being pinned under zhongli as your trembling fingers try to wrap around al haitham’s cock. the latter's fingers, calloused and rough from wielding swords and pens, smear the tears falling down your eyes in succession as the ex-archon’s cock pounds into your sopping wet cunt from behind. your lips are lolled open, obscene sounds escaping your raw throat, eyes unfocused, brain muddled with pleasure. rationale and embarrassment have long since unfriended you, somewhen along your... third? fourth? orgasm, leaving you to bask in the assaults of pain and pleasure inflicted by your lovers.

a low growl is all the warning you get before zhongli pins you harder onto the bed, grinding deep in your quivering walls as the thick spurts of cum spill into your deepest parts, warming your belly and making you clench more against the throbbing length. his teeth make their home on a spot on your left shoulder, which is already decorated with bruises and hickeys - the sharp fangs of a dragon sinking against the sweaty skin.

“taking it all without complaints... how very nice of you,” the velvety voice is a tad hoarse, the gravelly texture of his voice sending shivers down your spine, “we’ve trained you so well, have we, darling?”

“quit dilly-dallying and switch with me,” your other partner huffs with a gruffer tone, green-red eyes narrowing at the half beast who is still curled on top of you like a dragon protecting its hoard of jewels, “your time was up since a long time ago, old man.”

“my, how generous of you to wait,” zhongli chuckles darkly, unfurling from above you and shushing your whines when you feel his half-hard cock grind against your sensitive pussy as he slides out, “apologies, my stamina is quite above average, you see.”

al haitham grunts in annoyance, though his expression quickly shifts into sheer adoration as soon as he repositions himself to take the lord of geo's place. with a lick of his lips, he presses a warning kiss and a nibble onto your right shoulder, before easily grinding the head of his cock into your leaking hole, the sensation ripping a deep groan from his chest.

“h-haith-am—!”

“hmmm? what?”

like a hawk playing with a mouse, he teases you; never giving you his full length, just rubbing against your outer lips, sliding in but never all the way. just his flushed tip prodding, poking, giving you a taste of what you could have.

“s-stop teasing….! j-jerk!!!”

“oh dear, someone made the royal highness displeased,” zhongli hums, kissing your knuckles.

“you shut up,” al haitham hisses, before affixing his gaze back onto your adorable pouty lips, “and you. what did you just call me?”

your lips part to form the insult, just as your boyfriend slams into you in one thrust. the syllables break into a high-pitched moan, haughty tone melting into needy desperation. your hips, bruised by the fingers previously digging into the flesh, tries to meet his sudden movements.... until he stops, presses your lower half back down, and repeats the teasing grinds on the lips of your pussy.

“i asked, what did you call me?”

“i’m sorry i'm sorry am sorry love, please-”

“that’s what i thought,” al haitham smirks cruelly in satisfaction at your compliance and you barely have the time to admire him when he starts jackhammering into you, his grip adding another set of bruises as he tries to keep your body steady.

your eyes rolls and your back arches, too far lost in pleasure to notice the two pairs of eyes admiring how your body twists and jolts so erotically. how the layer of sweat from your overexertion makes you seem to glimmer and glow, like a mesmerizing crystalfly that captivates their senses, fluttering and asking to be caught. how the spots of cum and the specks of dark lovebites spanning across your skin taunt them to leave more - more marks of ownership, more memory of heated lovemaking, more proof that you’re theirs and only theirs.

the gasps and moans from your lips are akin to a siren’s call to their ears, and it spurs al haitham to relent one grip in favor of playing with your throbbing clit. you’re mewling and trying to escape as soon as he touches the oversensitive bundle of nerves, but zhongli quickly grasps your hands, pinning them in place as he delves in for a kiss; a ploy to keep you in place and to muffle your pretty noises, much to the scribe’s displeasure. though, he makes no move to push the older man away, and instead immerses himself in the tightness of your pussy and the way you clench and gush every time he flicks your clit a certain way. it’s so addicting, the feeling of you around him, that he can’t help but indulge, indulge, indulge.

between a kiss that’s trying to steal your breath away and being ravaged like no tomorrow, the coil in your abdomen snaps, and you jerk against zhongli’s hold, knocking your teeth together as you squeeze your eyes shut. and yet, instead of retreating, your lover doubles down on the kiss, gulping down your cries and screams like they’re the finest aged wine. meanwhile, al haitham buries himself inside you as your cunt spasm around him, getting impossibly wetter with each pulse, with his fingers continuing to help you ride your orgasm in the best way possible. you’re still twitching when he starts moving again - just a few sloppy thrusts as he too reaches his end, spilling more of his seed inside you. your stomach feels hot and full, your legs weak from overexertion, and your breath so ragged it almost hurts to inhale.

with a satisfied groan, the platinum-haired male collapses beside you, trying to catch his breath and admiring your post-orgasm, blissed-out face.

zhongli, on the other hand, has kindly swept his hair back and given you some breathing space, although he’s still looking at you from his original position, a serene smile on his lips. his slender fingers lift your left hand and he places a fleeting kiss on your inner wrist. you give him a weak but appreciative giggle at the gentle display of affection.

the half-dragon hums melodically and moves to press his soft lips onto your palm, then your fingertips. and to your surprise, his lips open, long tongue flicking out to lick a strip from the base of your pinky up to the top.

you yelp as sharp fangs start nibbling on the base of your finger, transfixed at the erotic sight of half-lidded, lust-driven amber eyes staring right into your soul, a slight smirk on his lips as pearly white fangs flashed dangerously under the dimmed light, the pink muscle lewdly circling around your ring finger. it’s hypnotic, almost, and your mouth unconsciously falls agape, a shudder racking your body as the canines start to scratch and nibble and then bite. more tears prick your eyes, and you whine in alarm. zhongli relents, relaxes his jaw, and only then do you see the teeth marks around the base of said finger… it stirs something inside you; a ring of flowers, of promise-

ragged breaths hit your right ear and your eyes squeeze shut as another set of canines assaults your nape, along with a set of fingers still slightly damp with your juices interlocking with your free hand.

“ready for another round?”

“there’s still plenty of canvas space, after all.”

𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑦𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟?

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @clovcly | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee

[strawberry-soot]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♠️DEUCE BIRTHDAY SSR FLOWER ANALYSIS* ♠️*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*Mandatory reminder that I’m no flower specialist, which means these are all very subjective opinions. Take everything with a grain of salt!

Poppy anemones, also known as windflowers, symbolize loyalty and the fragility of life – with its name referring to either the wind that helps blow the flowers open, or their susceptibility to wind. The blue color gives them the meaning of protection (against evil), though anemones in general are known to provoke feelings of expectation and excitement. They’re one of the flowers that open during daytime, but close again at night, so they’re ideal gifts for those coming of age, or currently about to start a new chapter in their life.

Deuce has blue hydrangeas, which carry the meaning of forgiveness, rejection, and regret, and are typically gifted when you’re looking to apologize, or to symbolize a new starting point. In Europe and the Victorian Flower Language they’re symbols of arrogance and boastfulness, but nowadays, they’re more commonly understood to show understanding, gratitude, or even as a way to express your concern for the recipients’ feelings (which is derived from their Japanese meaning).

Blue carnations are relatively new flowers that don’t grow naturally, and thus don’t have much history. However, they’re associated with peace, truth, and devotion. Carnations in general are synonymous for affectionate feelings for someone loved and adored. They’re a symbol of distinction, creativity, and uniqueness – and a popular gift for Mother’s Day. (Interestingly, in the Netherlands they’re associated with defiance and rebellion.)

The gentiana scabra in his bouquet represent justice, accuracy and victory because of its upward flowering shape. Another reading is that of lonely love, or loving someone who is sorrowful, or that of chastity.

Cornflowers are symbols of reliability, anticipation, prosperity, devotion, tenderness, and love. Depending on what color you believe Deuce’s flowers to be (because color-picking in photoshop has revealed them to be a lovely indigo – so exactly between blue and purple): blue cornflowers carry an additional meaning of hope, and striving for the unattainable, while their purple variation symbolizes power and dignity.

The small, white flowers in Deuce’s bouquet are either lupines or larkspurs. Lupines are used to symbolize growth and change, strength and protection, as well as transformation and renewal. They represent a passion for life and different experiences, and inner strength since they’re resilient and durable and one of the few flowers that can grow in any soil. White lupines also stand for self-sacrifice, selflessness and forgiveness, and are symbols of compassion for others. Although highly subjective, many believe lupines to be astrologically connected to the signs of Gemini or Cancer (with Deuce being a Gemini). Larkspurs, on the other hand, are symbolic of swiftness, strong bonds, and a beautiful spirit. They’re associated with lightheartedness and youth, as well as a desire for lightness, or simply a pure heart. White larkspurs are typically seen as symbols of happiness, pride, and joy.

Clovers are signs of protection and are believed to be charms against negativity and hexes. They’re closely associated with good fortune and luck, but can also carry the meaning of success, fidelity, joyfulness, and lightheartedness.

Naturally, these are only my un-educated guesses, but feel free to let me know if I got anything wrong/what flowers I might’ve missed.

[starksvinyls]

Title: A May Day Rating: General Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Tags: Non-Sexual Age Play, Age Play, Fluff, Flower Crowns, Vacation Summary: Peter makes his Daddy a special gift. Notes: for @ageplay-may day one's Sugar Prompt: "May Day". i went sort of loosey goosey with the prompt and it's just about a spring day in may bc i don't know anything about the actual May Day lol AO3 Link

They were sitting in the garden of their vacation rental home, the warm Italian Spring air smelled sweet, the fragrance of the multitude of flowers wafting in the air. Tony was in the lounge chair, pen tapping against his chin as he read over one of the clues for the crossword he was working on. It was one of those cheap newsprint paperback books he had throw into the basket on impulse on the emergency trip to the drug store before they had gotten on the plane in New York. 

He and Peter had agreed to minimal technology use on this vacation, and Tony knew that without that, he wouldn’t have much else to do when Peter was otherwise occupied. So, the crossword book had made its way into his bag. He filled in the answer, and then glanced up to check on Peter. 

The boy was sitting in the grass, legs crossed, a pile of flowers in front of him that he was weaving together. Tony smiled at the adorable way Peter’s tongue was poking out of his mouth in concentration as he added another purple flower to his creation. 

Tony went back to his crossword, filling in several answers in rapid succession. This was too easy, he mentally rolled his eyes. A little while later a shadow appeared over him and he looked up, smiling at Peter. 

“Hi, daddy!” The boy chirped, hands behind his back. 

“Hi, cucciolo, what’ve you got there?” He set his pen in the spine of the crossword book, closed it, and set it aside. 

Peter pulled his hands from behind his back, revealing a wonky looking flower crown. “I made you this!” He beamed. 

The flowers were unskillfully tied together, a few were barely hanging on, and several of the flowers had missing petals (no doubt from being manhandled by Peter). It was the most perfect flower crown Tony had ever seen. 

“Oh, honey, I love it!” Tony reached out for it and Peter happily handed it over. “Thank you, baby.” He placed the circlet of flowers on his head and then reached for Peter. 

The boy giggled as Tony pulled him down into his lap, making sure Peter landed sideways so his legs could dangle off the side of the chair. He pecked kissed all over Peter’s face, while tickling his sides, making him giggle even more. 

“Daddy, stooop.” He half-whined, trying to squirm away. 

“What’s the matter?” Tony pulled back. “Don’t like Daddy kisses?” 

“No!” Peter hurried to say, “I love Daddy kisses, just don’t want tickles.” 

“Hmm,” Tony pretended to think it over for a second before conceding. “Alright, no tickles. Just lots of kisses.” 

“Right!” Peter agreed, leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to his daddy’s cheek. 

“Did you make yourself a crown, too?” 

Peter gasped, spine straightening. “No! I need one, too, daddy!” 

He scrambled off of Tony’s lap and began circling the garden, collecting more flowers. Once he seemed satisfied by his selections, he plopped back down in the grass and got to work weaving and tying. Tony went back to his crossword. 

The pen had just lifted from the page as Tony filled in the last answer when Peter was back, this time with his own flower crown atop his head. 

“Now we match!” He chirped, crawling back into his daddy’s lap. 

Tony hurried to put the crossword book aside and then kissed his boy’s cheek as he wrapped him in his arms. “Perfect.” 

[cheezritsu]

Afterthought (Exit Stage Left) || Akaashi Keiji

Wc: 2.1k

Inspired by this quote that lives rent free in my mind, and by Afterthought by Joji

The scenery that stretches out the window of your train is a blur of orange tinged buildings, the glint of the setting sun catching every window on every skyscraper as you speed through the outer edges of the greater Tokyo Met area. You avert your squinting eyes, choosing to watch your quiet companions. The passengers on your train all sway in a similar manner, like a gif on a constant loop.

Despite this nearly cinematic tableau, there is something missing from this moment—perhaps it’s the fact that you’re on your way back to work after your lunch break and the sun is already setting, but there’s something more bittersweet than an early twilight. Your eyes sweep across the train car, searching the little cracks and crevices as if someone has left clues for this mystery.

But there is nothing out of the ordinary—the salarymen are as shiny-shoed and bored eyed as ever, the junior high girls are still huddled close together and giggling over a phone screen. One of the girls reaches down to pull up her leg warmers, and you think about how long it’s been since your friends wore those. The crest on their uniforms is unfamiliar, yet looking at them feels like a portal to the past.

The feeling in your chest grows exponentially as the train slows to a halt. The girls promptly get off, along with a host of other young, fresh looking passengers. One young man with a college ID on his lanyard walks past you, with something in his arm brushing against you. It makes a crackling sound that garners both of your attention.

“Oh!” He says, turning back to you quickly as the doors start closing. “I’m sorry!” He bows shallowly, and from the motion you catch the bouquet of purple tulips, abundant and bright, tied off with a white ribbon. He doesn’t stay in your sight much longer, running through the doors with the type of urgency only a young person could afford. You frown harder.

Now the train car is full of adults, and the alienation sits like lead in your stomach. You have nowhere else to be but work, yet you feel like you’re forgetting something—a prior engagement? A rendezvous with a friend? A missed call? You check your phone; nothing. A date—?

You remember it now. An entire train stop has come and gone. Your train stop. When you blink out of your stupor you realize you now have to walk blocks—blocks!—to his apartment, with the quickly setting sun making chills creep under a coat not meant for winter. Your fingers are popsicles where they curl around the stems of the bouquet tucked into your arm. Perhaps it’s getting a little too predictable; here you are on a Thursday, in an outfit that’s mostly black, in makeup he’s seen a thousand times. You’re a broken record for sure, but comfort and familiarity were things Akaashi savored more than onigiri.

(Right?)

You like the familiarity too. Walking into his apartment complex gives you a fuzzy warmth, and you barely pay attention as your fingers automatically press the button to his floor. Your reflection in the chrome doors is a haunting type of deja vu that leaves you with a sinking feeling you’re sure isn’t just his janky apartment elevator.

As one foot drags and the other heel clicks against the floor, it feels like you’re marching to a forlorn melody, something non-diegetic that would warn your imaginary audience that something terrible is about to happen, but leaves you clueless. There are layers upon layers of irony that surround the moment you turn the key into Akaashi’s apartment, only to find it dark and near barren.

Tokyo winters are notoriously cruel to apartment complexes. The grey sky matches the towering skyscrapers and colors the world in dismal shadows. Akaashi sits among them, a single desk lamp washing the pages of his newest project in harsh light.

He doesn’t look up when he hears your heels click against his kitchen floor. Silence drapes the room, punctuated only by the furling of pages. It sounds like a library or a study, not like a home with two lovers.

But you like watching him; the intense blue of his eyes as he scans the pages, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looks handsome and pristine, like a marble statue.

He still looks that way when he finally turns to you, not so much as a smile on his face. “Hey.” He says, like you’re an afterthought.

“Hey,” you say, still possessing the bashfulness of a schoolgirl. You wait patiently for Akaashi like a dutiful kouhai would their senpai. When he does a once over of the flowers in your hand, he sighs.

He closes the magazine then pushes himself up from the desk as if it’s the most difficult task in the world. Akaashi pads over to you, still in his work shoes, and turns your head to look in your eyes.

There is no longer any feverish excitement in his touches. That placid countenance you got a thrill out of breaking never cracked, and it left feeling cold and forgotten. His fingers placed themselves exactly where they were supposed to, robotically so, with little tease, or foreplay, or reverence.

“These are pretty,” he says, and all you do is nod.

You’d heard about loveless marriages before. About people who stay together despite there not being a spark. You didn’t think it’d ever happen to you, for you had enough love for Akaashi to last a lifetime and then some. But here, now, when his lips pressed to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones with precision and no passion, you felt your soul detach from your body and allowed him to continue kissing a corpse.

He never said a word.

And when he did, it’s just: “What are they for?”

And this is where you come out of your comfort zone with him. “They’re for you. It’s a goodbye present.”

‘So that’s what it takes,’ you think as Akaashi’s eyes widen impossibly large. You’d laugh if you didn’t feel so hollow.

“Wh-“ he flounders, pushing the bouquet of purple asters back into your arms. “What are you talking about.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Keiji.”

He spares you the theatrics. Keiji was a literature major; he excels at context clues.

Yet he looks between the flowers and you, like it’s an incomplete puzzle. “What exactly is it you can’t do?”

Akaashi watches as you shuffle back and forth on your heels. Sometimes he can see the person he fell in love with back in high school: your nervous habits have stayed the same. But still, you’ve undeniably grown since then. Aged, like wine; becoming bolder, harder to swallow.

He can’t really be impressed anymore when you look him in the eye and say, “I can’t keep putting you first when I’m second place for you. I can’t be your afterthought anymore.”

“You’re not an afterthought.” It’s the lame reply of someone who can’t think of what else to say. You know it too.

“Ji,” you apply his coveted nickname, and it makes it all the worse. “You’re just keeping me around because you’re used to me.”

Something blooms across his face. It prickles with heat as a protective bubble of anger bursts in his chest. “What’s wrong with me being comfortable with you?”

Your stare goes level, lids dropping so the light in your eyes vanishes. The wings of your eyeliner make you look dangerous, ethereal. He really has always liked the way you looked. Your beauty is no longer subjective to him, it doesn’t steal his breath. It’s just an emotionless fact.

“Being comfortable is something friends are. We can be friends if that’s what you want.”

His brow raises. “Is that what you want?”

You shrug. The nonchalance is what gets him—the action is unhurried, comical, almost, in how lackadaisical you’re making this moment. (Although, he admits to himself that his anger is redirected guilt for not feeling too torn up about this himself.)

“That’s up to you,” is your only reply.

He heel turns, groaning and rubbing his twitching hands down his face. “Y/n what does that mean?” He says, voice finally rising. There’s no longer the thrill of getting him riled up. Only a dull throb where adrenaline should be. “Why are you making this harder than it has to be?”

“I-!” You laugh hollowly, and Akaashi stares at you with pinched brows. “Me? I said I can’t do this anymore. Clean and simple! You’re the one dragging this out when you don’t love me anymore!”

The anger ebbs like receding waves, and its wake is the wreckage he’s been waiting to appear. Akaashi is stunned by your violence, and nothing more.

And perhaps it’s his refusal to do anything about it that makes you turn your head as you swallow down the bitter acceptance he’s spoon fed you. “I mean,” you sniff, not even attempting to salvage anything. “I’ve always loved you more than you love me.”

The crooked smile you give pushes him over the edge.

“That’s not true,” he scolds quickly. “I just don’t show it the way you do.”

“Because you never wanted to.”

(Does it feel like he’s been shot in the chest because it’s true, or because he’s been caught?)

The flowers land on the table unceremoniously, punctuated by your heavy sigh. “So what,” Akaashi says, looking down at you. He never held his height over you condescendingly, but he’s scowling at you now. You give him a look that’s not quite defeated, but definitely not unbothered, waiting for him to finish.

“So you just knew I’d fallen out of love and you stayed with me the whole time? And now you walk in here, dressed up, with..with goodbye flowers? What kind of plan is that?”

“It wasn’t a plan, Ji.” You give a pitiful excuse for a laugh, somewhere between a scoff and a sob. ‘I just...I stayed because I still love you.”

Under his bewildered gaze you deteriorate faster than paper in water, crumbling into soggy remains as you give a wobbly smile. “But I suppose that’s not enough, is it?”

Your middle finger and thumb rub circles into your temple, like this conversation is giving you a headache. In the grey evening light of mid-winter, Akaashi can see a tear twinkle down the contour of your face like a Renaissance painting. And then it hits him all of a sudden that he’s the cause of all your wretched pain, and it winds him like a spin kick to the chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but never says what for. It can’t leave his lips (and why should it? You both know what for, why should he make it harder than it has to be?)

You don’t say you accept it. You don’t cry either. You simply scoot the chair back with a grating noise, and to this day, the sound still haunts Akaashi, teleporting him back to this moment, when you walked out the door and never came back.

Akaashi stares at the now unoccupied chair, his eyes lost and something pricking in the corner of his eyes.

“Akaashi.”

No, Akaashi scrunches his brow. Panic bubbles in his chest this isn’t right. You never called for him. Why didn’t you call for him?

“Akaashi,”

You leave his life as simply as stage directions—Y/n: exit stage left. The door stays open, because you’re not petty enough to slam it. Considerate, even when smashing your own heart to pieces.

“Akaaaashi.”

And his.

“Akaashi!”

He blinks once, twice. There are no more flowers, no open door, no dim grey lighting. Just the clean, white tile of Onigiri Miya, still empty during its dedicated lunch break. Orange light spills in and grants the store a golden look. From where he stood after scooting back his chair, Atsumu Miya raises a brow, his concern shadowed by the sun at his back.

“Are you okay?” He passed his hand in front of Akaashi’s face, somewhat teasingly. His handsome smile is small. “Lost ya for a sec.”

Atsumu’s left hand is still gripping the back of his seat. The other occupants of the table are seated, their curious eyes squinted at Akaashi as if they could possibly discern what was going on on the other side of his eyes.

“Sorry,” he finally says, fixing the blond with an apologetic smile. “It’s just,” he looks in the middle of the table, where sticking up from a small glass vase was a single purple kikyo flower, its head hung low and mournfully. He can’t keep his eyes off of it. For someone who’s supposed to be an afterthought, you’re always at the forefront of his mind; like the fraying anxiety of leaving the stove on, or the person one sees from their peripheral vision. If only he’d said all that when it mattered. Then maybe you wouldn’t be—

“It’s nothing. Just a memory.”

[solarpearl]

ergo dum me diligis

genshin boys (tartaglia, thoma, zhongli, kazuha, albedo) x gn! reader. what he loves most about you. just fluff!!! ♡s & ↻s appreciated!

notes: deron deron konderon!!! i tried to make this as general as possible so i hope it.... sounds fine? edit: i can't believe i forgot to tag @albaedhoe my beloved tysm for proof reading!!

tartaglia

tartaglia does not have many constants in his life. he runs on light feet, hair wind swept, like water that runs past your fingers & seeps between cracks, never to be cupped or held. it is a life of a harbinger-- one strife with unexpectancy and adventitious, one that begs him to always have his ears open, eyes steady, vision always on the prize-- the goal, the words uttered from the chilling lips of his tsaritsa. 

but you are his one constant, his anchor stone in his rocking boat made of rotting wood that drifts stubbornly further out into the tumultuous sea. why do we fight? one of his subordinates mutter. for the tsaritsa, another answers, reply already trained. but for him, it was also for you, for you've always expected him to return, & he knows that you are waiting, always, to receive him warmly with open arms & a kiss that leaves him breathless while his skin presses onto yours. you're his constant, the one never changing love of his life.

thoma

insecurity is the seed of doubt. and doubt, surely, makes an enemy of success. you had always mused, and thoma remembers it vividly, the smell in the air of thorn pricked roses, and the purple of the grass a melancholy blue, the beating sun of inazuma casting an almost ethereal glow upon your face. 

it was true, a chin held high with a cold stare bodes very well against the crackling, sizzling lightning of a stricken god. conviction, thoma thinks, is your best trait. steadfast in your ideals, constant in your footsteps, thunderous in your speeches, confident in yourself.

confidence & beauty, yes, you do both very well. he thinks to himself, a hand under his chin as he hums in chords of love & adoration. for surely, he knows, your promise of getting him out of this stuffy teahouse will become true. you do not make implausible promises, & you will turn the impossible possible.

zhongli

your gentleness. even in your footsteps you are gentle, as if walking on air. even more so in the way you softly cup his face in turns it this way & that, praises falling from your mouth in cascades & your eyes soften like the wilt of a beautiful flower. zhongli is a god, he has seen many things, and immortality is cursed with never forgetting.

yet you soothe him, smoothing over a prickling pain with a cool hand. there is no need to act ignorant, for he loves your kindness that gently wakes him from gripping nightmares & loves his past loves as much as he does.

a memory is a precious thing, you remind him, and yours is as kind as he remembers, much like the glowing golden light that pours in through age old windows.

kazuha kaedehara

the way you grit your teeth & stand, wiping blood off your face. you're never one to succumb to anything, big or small. bravery recognises bravery in the face of death, for he has evaded the spindly, cold fingers of it for far too long now, so much so he shudders in his sleep, phantom spiders crawling over his body as even in rest he cannot relax, muscles tense, like a spring. but he sees your heart in the way you speak, how in between each word there's a thousand little mutterings, and the way you sharply clip the end of your sentences, abrupt and sudden, but never weak & fragile.

the wicked smile that speaks of countless battles won & even more lost, you always hide in a sheath, unleashed only onto those deserving of fury & wrath, is hidden in the gleam of your weapon. its edges pearl white under the waxing moonlight, glinting of skill & revenge. as your edges fray around him, he sees you wholly, bloody & torn, but still here, still his, still alive, still trudging on. for you wear invisible scars that he kisses gently over and similarly scarred hands ghost above, fluttering & intertwining with yours as he presses you closer.

albedo

your genius. albedo is a traveller, a philosopher, the best type of student- curious, bright & dedicated. yet he has never seen anything as infinitely fascinating as you. your mind is an intricately weaved tapestry, always stitching as it plucks its pink from the colour of his cheeks, the gold from his eyes, the ash from his hair & the deep blue from his gloves that you always tap when you wish for his undivided attention. but no matter what, albedo can't seem to unpick the threads, for one proves never-ending & another pulled out makes no difference to the piece of art. albedo watches the shadow of you leaning over a book as you point out the parts of a diagram of your expertise, and when the black turns into twisting, dancing figures, he lets it slip out, how are you so beautiful?

it's my personal charm.

you reply & lean forward to sweetly kiss him, the taste of adventure & secrecy on your lips.

[raggedywings]

EDITED: 11/9/21 FLOWERS FOUND! EDITED: 11/13/21 MEANINGS UNDER THE CUT

Kuroko: Plum blossom Floriography: -perseverance and hope -beauty, purity, and the transitoriness of life. -a symbol of winter and a harbinger of spring Source Hanakotoba: -noble, patient, and loyal. -changes slightly depending on its color -Red ume = Elegant. -White ume = Refined. Source Kagami: sunflowers Floriography: -most commonly means adoration and loyalty Source Hanakotoba: -general: “I’m only looking at you” as well as “admiration.” -White sunflower = Gentle love. -Purple sunflower = Grief, sorrow. -Giant sunflower = False love, fake riches. -Dwarf sunflower = Nobility, love. Source Kise: hydrangea Floriography: -Gratitude and thanksgiving to someone else -Developing a deeper understanding between two people -Heartlessness and acting without thinking about the feelings of another -Frigidity and disinterest in a romantic proposal -Boasting and bragging about false accomplishments -Abundance and prosperity -Grace and beauty, sometimes taken to an extreme of vanity and narcissism -the 4th wedding anniversary for a couple Source Hanakotoba: -family because they tend to grow close together. -fickle because the color of ajisai can change incredibly quickly depending on the soil and other factors. -heartlessness/boastfulness/You are cold -Pink = Bright lady. -Blue = Indifferent and cold. -White = Open-minded. Source1 Source2 Midorima: morning glory Floriography: -Hot pink: Gratitude, energy, peacefulness, joy, fun, playfulness -Indigo to purple: Royalty, grace, wealth, growth, healing, hopefulness -Blue: Enduring love, desire, peace, infinity, intuition, intelligence, power -Red: Passionate love, power, strength, wealth, seduction, desire -White: Purity, healing, peacefulness, innocence, youth, rebirth -Yellow: Warmth, joy, fresh starts, healing. -Symbolic of strength, giving a person the power to realize their hopes and dreams. -These flowers are resilient, and they pass this power on to their recipient. -It’s believed that the ability to grow through adversity resonates through the flower. Source1 Source2 Hanakotoba: -love in vain, affection -Willful promises -love regardless of culture Source1 Source2 Source3 Takao: bluebell Floriography: humility, constancy, gratitude, and everlasting love. Source1 Source2 Hanakotoba: Grateful/humility, constancy Source1 Aomine: Japanese bellflower or Balloon Flower Floriography: -symbol of eternal love and determination -Some cultures consider it a symbol of gratitude, while others assign it a meaning of constancy, support, romance, or even vanity. -Cream: thoughtfulness, grace, elegance, hope, and peace. -Blue: tranquility, healing, calming, openness, and friendship. -Purple: royalty, elegance, wealth, success, and tradition. -Magenta: universal love, excitement, romantic love, and hope for success. -Pink: joy, youthfulness, platonic or familial love, gratitude, admiration, and happiness. Source1 Source2 Hanakotoba: -endless love -honesty -the return of a friend is desired -obedience Source1 Source2 Murasakibara: Cosmos Floriography: -most commonly symbolize order and harmony. -can also represent balance, tranquility, peace, love, modesty, innocence, joy, and beauty. Source Hanakotoba: -cleanliness -love -harmony, peace, modesty, -the joys that love and life can bring -beautiful Source Source2 Akashi: Japanese camellia Floriography: -love, devotion, affection, and admiration. -refinement, perfection, and faithfulness, depending on the color and context of the bloom. -White: purity or good luck/Adoration and is given to someone who is well-liked -Red: romantic love, passion, longing, or deep desire. -Pink: longing for someone and is given to someone who is missed Source1 Source2 Hanakotoba: -Red: Modest, humble. Among warriors and samurai, the red camellia symbolized a noble death. -White: Gorgeous, charming, lovely. -Pink: Subtle beauty, gentle love, discretion. -When tsubaki flowers die, instead of the petals gently fluttering off the head, the entire flower head snaps off, signifying loss or even death Source1 Source2 PLEASE do not take

these as facts because

1) I am not Japanese nor am I trained in floral arrangements. Please ask your florists.

2) I just googled these, I'm not an expert in flowers or languages, I just find flower languages romantic and interesting. 3) I'm 10000% a certified dumbass Bonus Fact about me: Plum Blossoms and Red Tsubaki flowers are my favorite flowers.

[pinkoptics]

Would You Catch Me If I Fall?

aka Cherik Fallen Angel fic

Part 2 of Chapter 2

(Previous parts now on Ao3)

Erik is going to do everything he can to make sure Charles is taken care of. Charles saved his life. That’s why. Right… right???

*

“Mr. Olsen, I believe you will do exactly as I’ve asked.”

Mr. Olsen opened his mouth, to protest most likely, but Erik was well practiced in speaking in a way that left no room for interruption. “You will, because you are aware of the exact amount my firm has donated to your hospital this year and every other before it.”

Mr. Olsen was turning an interesting shade of red. It had nothing on Azazel, but the flush beneath his skin was making a concerted effort.

“You are also aware of what it would do to this hospital’s reputation for being at the forefront of mutant medicine if my firm were to very vocally withdraw its support and place it elsewhere, say... Johns Hopkins?”

“Mr. Lehnsherr—“ Still red, but now also sputtering. “You do not have the authority. Shaw would never—“

Erik smiled in such a way that Olsen cut himself off. Erik’s smile, though the word hardly applied, very early in his career had earned him the nickname ‘The Shark.’ Only used when he knew his prey was very much backed into a corner of their own making and it was time for the kill.

“If The Incident were to suddenly appear on social media again, with a narrative much closer to the truth...”

Red became purple. “We have an NDA! You can’t—“

“When information is out it is out, Mr. Olsen. Non-disclosures only hold weight if the parties involved care about the consequences. I could give a fuck. Besides, whether this hospital is guilty or innocent, reputations once ruined are terribly hard to salvage, aren’t they? Once, tried in the court of public opinion...”

“Shaw would— you’d be—“

Erik simply raised an eyebrow.

Olsen was right. Erik didn’t have the authority to stop donations, Shaw would have his job and his ass if he ever went to the public about any of the firm’s cases. Moreover, he would probably lose his license to practice. None of those things mattered however, not because Erik truly didn’t care, but because Olsen only needed to believe he was serious. If Erik couldn’t sense the man’s weaknesses, and couldn’t exploit them, he would hardly have been the best lawyer at his firm (no matter what Emma said to the contrary). The seed of doubt, once planted in a weak mind, was notoriously difficult to weed out.

“Fine,” Olsen ground out. Looking like he was very much sucking on a lemon.

Erik levitated the paperwork he had prepared by its staple. It was accompanied by one of the disgustingly expensive fountain pens the firm utilized to perpetuate its reputation. It hovered in front of the sour countenance and Erik felt the same sense of satisfaction he did after a particularly shrewd cross examination.

Threatening Olsen in this way was beyond overkill.

However, Erik knew of nothing else that would resolve Charles’ situation as swiftly. As Olsen scratched out his signature nearly hard enough to tear paper, Charles’ need for insurance, identity, and anything else he did not have, vanished.

Besides, he’d never liked this man or this hospital, so if he got to have a little fun while getting Charles what he needed, all the better. The faster he could get Charles out of here unscathed the better. He owed him that much, possibly more. There were few people insane enough, selfless enough, to throw themselves in front of a car for a stranger. Erik had made it his life’s work to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. Charles had more than earned that same protection until he was back to his former self.

T’s crossed and i’s dotted, Erik left Olsen to fume, so he could share the good news with Charles. The words that had been leaping forward died on his lips when he took in the state of Charles’ room.

“. . . Did you rob a florist?”

Charles graced him with a much less hysterical, much more pleasant sounding laugh than he had any time previously.

“Aren’t people just lovely? This one is from the nurse on call, Ben. He has the most adorable little boy. Teething at the moment, which is trying of course, but he’s so precious one can hardly be cross. I’m sure Ben would be happy to show you the photos too. This one is from Dr. Yousef, whom you’ve already met. She detests flowers, personally, as she’s never home consistently enough to care for them properly. This one is from Saima...”

While Charles no longer appeared to be in a state of hysteria, it appeared to be Erik’s turn, and he became suddenly, hysterically deaf. Had he misplaced a day? Or two? More? Was he the one with the head injury?

“Did you— I mean, do you know them?”

Charles cut off his still in-progress monologue about his sudden and inexplicable well-wishers.

“Oh no. We’ve just met. Nancy would like to get coffee when I’m better though. I believe that is a cultural expression of friendship, is it not? Or does coffee equal sex? It’s so hard to keep track of these things as humans rarely say what they truly mean. Why do you lot insist upon speaking in code? A code that changes every generation no less. Regardless, I’ve never had coffee. Given how utterly obsessed with it you all are I’m rather excited to find out what all the fuss is about.”

Erik didn’t know what part of that to address first, if at all.

Ben, Yousef, Saima... who the fuck was Nancy?

Sex?

Never had coffee?

“Oh Erik, I’m sorry. You look so confused again. I forget myself. I would much rather have coffee for the first time with you of course. At that diner you speak so highly of. I believe diners generally serve coffee.”

Erik blinked. Did that mean Charles wanted to be his friend or have sex with him? Or, did never having had coffee actually mean never having had sex? No. Wait. What in the fuck were they talking about?

What came out was, mercifully, “You make friends quickly.” This was something he and Charles certainly didn’t share.

“Do I?” Charles shrugged. “I love people. All people. They’re so fascinating.” Something else he and Charles certainly didn’t share. In his experience, most people were dull or cruel or both. Except Charles. Charles had been the exact opposite of dull or cruel right from the first. Crashing headfirst into Erik, literally and figuratively, and smashing all his expectations of what people did or didn’t do for one another. It might have also been the head injury/amnesia mitigating the dullness, making him say the most ridiculous things that Erik had ever heard and couldn’t even begin to sort out, but Erik didn’t really think so. He read people extremely well and Charles intrigued him. No one intrigued him.

Shoving the friends/coffee/sex equivalency conversation aside, Erik patted his briefcase. “I’ve sorted out everything with hospital administration. You won’t have to worry about insurance, bills... if there’s anything you need, just ask. They will be sure you get it.”

“I won’t ask how you managed it.” Charles’ look became conspiratorial. Almost as if he did know Erik’s methods. There was no way, of course, that he did unless he was a telepath, which Erik had already briefly mused on. “You really needn’t have troubled yourself, though I appreciate it, you, all the same.”

There it was again. The strange gravity his words seemed to possess. Erik flushed, not something he ever did, feeling that appreciation to his core. Charles’ smile deepened and somehow held the same weight as his words. Looking at it was almost too much, like looking straight at the sun, it warmed parts of Erik he hadn’t even realized were cold.

“You can stay with me,” Erik said, apropos of nothing, then flinched, his own words surprising him. It wasn’t the offer he had intended to make. The Firm put people up all the time for various reasons, and Erik had planned to slip Charles in to one of his current cases with no one the wiser. The doctor felt certain it wouldn’t be long until his memory returned, based on her previous experience of such cases.

Charles’ astonishment seemed to match his own. “Erik, that’s too much. You’ve done so much already.”

Erik rubbed at the back of neck, avoiding Charles’ eyes, which were comically, anime-wide. While he hadn’t meant to make the offer, he also found now that he had, he also had no sense of regret. His flat was large, he practically lived at the firm, so it would hardly be an inconvenience and the less he abused his position, the less tracks he had to cover.

He coughed, “There’s always Nancy.” Erik hoped the joke would break the sudden tension. “You could take her up on her ambiguous offer.” Charles laughed. Success.

“Coffee, and whatever else it may suggest, is a far cry from living together. Besides, I don’t even know Nancy.”

“You don’t know me either. You may have unwittingly saved a sociopath the world would be better without.”

Charles shook his head. “Don’t be absurd. You’re a good man, Erik. Better than you know.”

Everything about this was absurd.

“It’s settled then, when they discharge you, you can stay with me until we figure out who you are.”

Charles’ face, which Erik was already beginning to realize was nakedly expressive, came over suddenly unreadable.

“I—“ Charles hesitated, eyes flicking away from Erik to the window. Erik supposed coming to live with any stranger was enough to give anyone pause, especially someone who was as disoriented as Charles must already be. He was about to shift back to his original, much less awkward, plan when Charles’ gaze focused back on him. “All right. Until... until then.”

“Until then,” Erik echoed and they both fell suddenly silent.

He was inviting someone to live with him when he had never lived with anyone besides his mother his entire life. Roommates? Please. Erik had never had to, but would have rather lived in a squalid apartment than have to share a living space with anyone, even when putting himself through the extraordinary expenditure of american law school. Yet, here he was. Here they were. It felt right. Perhaps he had an overabundance of gratitude and quid pro quo to sate. It was the only thing that made any sense in the face of something that made absolutely no sense.

He’d probably regret it the instant Charles was in his space, but he also wasn’t someone who went back on his word, so he was taking in this stray whether he came to regret it or not.

Mama, at least, would approve.

*

Now on Ao3

Thanks for reading!!

[sunflowersseemhappy]

Do you have any headcanons for main 6 set in modern times? What kind of job would they have, what music would they like or whatever else? I love your headcanons, they're always so detailed and on point 💖

I really loved doing this, only reason it took so long is because I definitely over thought a lot of this. Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy the headcanons, I definitely want to do more of this! SO when I have the time I definitely will and I actually have a rough plan of what the story and the background for the six and MC’s would be.

The “Event” mentioned references the plague but when and if I get to it that will all be explained.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED but here is my Masterlist in the meantime!

Asra

You’ll usually find Asra in one of two places, the shop or the local cafe/bakery, living the slow city life.

Asra loves to people watch and more importantly he loves photography, he’s always taking pictures, a lot of them are of MC.

His bedroom wall is plastered with his photography and he sells a lot of them as a side gig on etsy.

He has a great blog too.

But his main focus is the shop, tucked away on a quiet corner street it feels faintly magical. Asra does tarot, sells candles, crystals and other trinkets, as well as herbal remedies that Julian admits work quite well.

In this AU Asra grew up in foster care, so when he finally found his home in the shop he never thought about living anywhere else.

It’s stayed that way for years, sharing a two bedroom flat above the shop with MC, its cluttered at times, filled with secondhand belongings but Asra loves having his own space and own things.

And he so loves taking his little holidays out of the city, bringing back more trinkets that bring good luck and fortune.

Asra always wears sneakers or trainers on his feet, mainly because all he does is walk in the city.

Although he does have a painted van for the shop deliveries; he and MC spent a week painting a swirling pattern on its sides.

His wardrobe is all tees with faded logos and cotton pants but on the rare occasion he decides to dress up Asra has an impossibly colourful blouse and faded jeans he loves to wear.

And there are so many hats! Vesuvia is sunny but he has more hats than he needs, although it's nice to have one for any occasion.

Also has crocs, they are an abomination of pink.

Asra’s phone of choice is an old samsung, he keeps meaning to update it but he’s a bit scared the photos on it will get lost.

Asra and technology don’t always mix well, for some reason...

Even in this universe Asra wouldn’t be Asra if he didn’t have Faust, a mischievous lavender python who always seems to escape her vivarium and ends up in Asra’s camera bag.

When Asra picked her out at the pets store he was told he was the only person she had ever not bitten or squeezed. Asra believes in fate, so he took her back home with him and the two are inseparable.

Asra oh so loves music, and just about any kind of tune can be found on his mp3 however he soon found his favourite to be the chillhop tunes the cafe played everyday. They really relax him.

The biggest Disney fan when he was younger, Asra then slowly decided Dreamworks were better but his favourite movies are those from Studio Ghibli. Asra simply adores the art, the music and the stories.

As mentioned Asra loves photography but he also quickly discovered watercolour paint and he doesn’t claim to be good at it but he does love making little pieces of art for birthdays and Christmas.

Speaking of which Christmas is his favourite holiday.

Asra also dabbles in growing orchids, he's too successful and there are so many he and MC don’t know what to do with them!

Asra’s favourite hobby aside from photography is rollerblading. He’s pretty good at it, cruising through the streets and along the dockside of the city (he definitely dragged MC into trying it out).

Asra never really thought he’d be one to get a tattoo but after getting Faust he changed his mind, since then he has a gorgeous complicated tattoo of the little snake on his shoulder blade.

It was only after “The Event” that Asra got another one; MC’s favourite flower on his hip bone.

Nadia

Nadia Santrivia, she’s beautiful, generous and married one of the richest men in the city, for the most part she’s alright with that.

Although Nadia hasn’t always lived in Vesuvia she’s tuned into the city around her so well, she’s in her element and thriving.

Work doesn’t end, if there was ever a beginning to start with. It's one thing after another; approving designs, attending fancy dinners, opening a charity fundraiser. Life is busy for the CEO of Vesuvia Industries.

Nadia’s happy to run Lucio’s business, because she knows she can do good with it but she can get lonely. Thankfully she has several friends who she can rely on to cheer her on...

The most important thing is that she can be herself, her own person, being last in line for her parent’s business and overshadowed by several sisters Nadia needed an escape.

Vesuvia provided the opportunity.

Nadia’s apartment is sat above the clouds in the skyscraper of Vesuvia Industries, much the same as the other universe home and work go hand in hand when it comes to Nadia.

She’s not materialistic, her apartment is clean and open and perfect for yoga and other purposes that require open space. It's very new and high tech, the coffee machine is her favourite thing though.

The views of the sunrise over the bay are gorgeous.

Ashamed to admit she has tons of shoes.

It’s usually required of Nadia to have the suits and dresses befitting a woman of her status, so when the sun goes down or she has a day off Nadia looks like an entirely different person.

She’s no less stylish, but her airy blouse’s, ripped denim jeans, subtle leather jacket and ankle boots give her a whole different persona, and man does it make her look good on her motorcycle.

Yes a motorcycle, Nadia owns one. It comes out of her garage only once a month but when it does she turns heads.

The rest of the time Naida is pretty eco-friendly with an electric car the business made just for her in a deep shade of purple.

As the CEO of the company Nadia is expected to have the latest iPhone model, her phone is always ringing and if she weren’t so patient she’d probably hurl it off the skyscraper roof.

Nadia always wanted a pet but she could never figure out what kind, and one dropped into her lap literally. Turns out she’s an owl person, although Nadia would never consider Chandra a pet more a companion.

A skyscraper is no place for a semi-wild owl but Nadia is happy enough to make the trip to the stables outside of Vesuvia to see Chandra and give her toys. Such a change from the small owlet Nadia raised.

When it comes to music Nadia is very picky, she spent her childhood listening to her sister’s choice of music and certain songs just put her in a bad mood, except for jazz.

That music preference surprised her but as soon as she discovered Lucio didn’t like it she was hooked. She thought about learning the saxophone (not to annoy Lucio or anything, no definitely not...)

Nadia’s not a big movie watcher, although she is a big fan of disaster movies when the mood strikes (it's nice to think about more chaotic things happening than signing a stack of papers), mainly she only has time to watch tv shows.

Her favourite is the Walking Dead but MC has caught her watching ‘how its made’ shows too. Of course being an avid inventor Nadia would be enthralled by seeing how her car or coffee machine is put together.

Speaking of inventing, although Nadia always wanted to make it her job she’s only ever gotten to approve the inventions her company makes.

It's not entirely what she wanted but thankfully she has just enough time to squeeze in working on her little projects. Ones she hopes will help others one day.

Nadia’s found it super important in the big city to keep herself safe, between her hobbies of yoga, kung fu and fencing she’s a pretty formidable opponent. It’s saved her life more than she’ll ever admit.

Her other hobbies, to list a few are horse riding, polo, piano, swimming, wine tasting, and playing those arcade grabber machines (she has about 50 teddy bears and MC has about the same amount). Most of those hobbies began in her childhood.

Nadia likes to pretend she is above getting a tattoo but anyone who knows her well enough will reveal she has a owl shadow tattoo on her inner heel.

Julian

Poor Julian is the definition of a struggling city batchelor, and he certainly wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still the most well traveled of the group Julian spent his formative years abroad in the army as a field medic (where he met Lucio), now though he’s a lean mean crime fighting machine!

Well he’s a forensics doctor for the Vesuvia PD, but it still counts as being a crime fighter! He’s never really lost that dramatic flair that's for sure.

He’s been a bit of everything; medic and doctor, waiter, translator, actor, sailor, troublemaker and a fugitive (but that’s a story for another day).

But Vesuvia truly is his real home, a place he’s always come back to and where he’s made friends and family, enemies, lovers, and memories.

Sure he lives in the ‘bad part’ of town as Asra calls it, but Julian feels at home enough that it doesn’t bother him, that and he’s got Mazelinka to handle the riff raff.

The two of them share a two-storey house that sits next to his favourite bar, a bit too convenient for Maz’s liking. Despite that the place is cozy and old, all wood flooring and furniture that's been around longer than Julian’s lifetime, it’s filled with the scent of cooking and coffee and other than the box tv and Julian’s phone there's almost no modern technology.

Julian’s room has faded photos of his friends, and postcards from places he’s been too and a few posters of his favourite plays, as well as rough sketches tacked to the corkboard his desk is littered with papers and he even has an old school microscope.

In the mess of his room only Julian can find the thing that he’s looking for, he calls it an ‘organized mess’ when in reality it’s really just a mess.

Unfortunately this extends to his clothing choices too, Julian is terrible at laundry so there is no end to the stains on his mellow patterned tees and jeans, the only smart thing about his wardrobe are his boots and oxfords.

Quite true to form his black trench coat is a constant companion. He usually dresses like he’s in a black and white movie or like a scruffy doctor when he’s in his lab coat.

Still has an eye patch, his depth perception when crossing roads is not great... there are a lot of hospital bills.

Also the reason he doesn’t drive unless he can help it, Julian doesn’t own a car but he’s prone to borrowing one if he needs it (usually from Asra).

Julian is very much the guy on the subway who falls asleep on your shoulder because it's the only place his mind isn’t working overtime.

MC thinks it’s very cute.

Julian’s not really too fussed about his phone of choice, Samsung, Apple, so long as he can make calls and do google searches on symptoms of a flu he’s good. No matter how hard he tries his screen is always cracked.

People often point out the raven following Julian around, he’s not too sure if its the same one but Julian knows its his own fault feeding the scrawny thing when it landed on his window pane. Now it won’t leave him alone, Julian took to calling it Malak and he’s quite fond of the bird even if it likes to cackle for food outside his window at an ungodly hour in the morning.

Maz has threatened to cook Malak on more than one occasion.

Music is one of the few things that helps Julian focus, he’s not usually super into any particular artist or album but his main love is music from musicals and movie soundtracks, if he’s able to do so he’ll sing along.

Lead forensic doctor Valdemar finds it highly unprofessional when they are conducting autopsies.

Almost has no time to watch movies or tv but if you strapped Julian to a chair and put on Brooklyn 99 or any kind of superhero movie he might enjoy it just a little bit...

Honestly though those things are just background noise for him, Julian will put on the tv to keep himself occupied while he’s doing reports. But he loves comedy movies and shows, they might tear him away from his laptop just long enough that he gets a few good laughs.

However if Mazlinka gets the old camcorder out he’s all over watching old home videos of him and Portia and his old hound dog, he’s just so nostalgic sometimes.

Thinks learning counts as a hobby, Julian habitually grabs any book he can to read through so youtube is a miracle in his eyes. Free content, that he can listen to and learn from as well as visually see? Yes please.

Julian learned to play the fiddle when he was younger, for a time as a teen he even went street performing to earn money for Portia’s obsession with bracelet making. He doesn’t play it much anymore but he’ll give MC a tune anyday.

He’s also very invested in cocktail mixing, only thing he mixes is Salty Bitters, he’ll argue any day that the Salty Bitter counts as a cocktail.

Also very invested in his self sustaining bio-tank at work, the other officers are growing concerned about the leeches Julian likes to keep in it. They’re planning an intervention.

The only tattoo Julian had was one forcibly given during “The Event”, his ‘murderers mark’ on his hand. He’s really ashamed of it because it reminds him of the part he had in the disaster that befell Vesuvia.

Muriel

He definitely suits the other universe more, it's even harder to get away from people in this modern world.

But the start remains the same, he was lost and his only friend was Asra for a long time, until Lucio came along and tricked him into doing unspeakable things as a ‘bodyguard’ until he escaped.

People are unavoidable and Muriel keeps to himself during his job as a keeper for a local animal sanctuary, raising and re-releasing wildlife with other volunteers, he practically runs the place.

But the volunteers know not to bother him especially when he goes back to his house on the hill, to take care of his chickens before he vanishes like usual into his house.

No one knows much about him, and he prefers it like that.

Muriel’s home is simple and honestly built for one, there’s only one chair, only one pillow on the bed, only one set of cutlery, only one of everything. It leaks on occasion and always needs fixing, he’ll forgo sleep to fix things.

Who needs more than four hours of sleep anyway?

A lot of Muriel’s belongings are from garage sales, or picked up off the side of the road, not a lot of money goes toward his comfort Muriel prefers that the animals in the sanctuary have comfortable beds and good food.

Muriel’s clothes? He wears them till they die, an usually when he picks them up from a garage sale they’re already pretty close.

For that reason Muriel doesn’t have a specific choice of clothing, he owns jumpers, tees, denim jackets, flannels and whatever jeans and pants fit. He has one pair of khaki coloured boots that are surprisingly well maintained and usually wears a beanie or cattleman hat to hide his face.

Old pick up, old pick up, old pick up! Owns an old pick up truck he fixed up, it breaks down regularly and only plays radio but Inanna enjoys riding in the back. Muriel likes driving a lot on those country roads.

All that’s to be said about Muriel and his phone is this; he owns a nokia and has no intention of getting a smartphone. Ever.

His hands are a bit big for it though, he’s called MC and Julian accidently so many times... and he only usually text’s, so that's awkward.

Inanna is Muriel’s constant companion, and when they’re in the city man do the two of them turn heads. Inanna is a wolfdog in this universe and she definitely looks more wolf than dog.

But she really is a big sweetheart, Muriel raised her from a puppy after she was rejected and placed in a shelter, he knew a wolf dog would need some special attention to grow into a perfect companion rather than a dangerous animal.

Anyone can look at Muriel and instantly think he’s one of those people who would play country music, for the most part that’s true. He does play the guitar and can sing okay, he does like country but his real love of music comes from indie artists.

He can’t really explain it but the music gives him a sense of carelessness and hope he’s never known.

Doesn’t really watch tv or movies, Muriel is almost always too busy for that but he’s found it the strangest thing, Inanna likes watching tv...

After that he got drawn in by the documentaries about animals, he didn’t really realize that people did shows about the habitats and behaviours of animals but he finds himself entranced by it when he passes by.

He soon relented and sits on the floor with his arm draped over Inanna as they watch documentaries about wolves in Alaska.

With the amount of animals Muriel raises anyone would call it a job, Muriel however would argue it's a hobby for him. Sure waking up every hour in the night to feed raccoon babies isn’t ideal but it's never been anything short of joyous to watch them go back to the wild.

Muriel's other hobby centres around his guitar and learning songs to play to himself and maybe a certain person *cough* MC *cough*.

He’s also an avid baker, none of his meals are ready made. Leading on from that he forages for mushrooms, and herbs rather than buys them.

Muriel doesn’t have a tattoo, only his scars.

He thought about getting some but he doesn’t trust someone to touch him that way and also he’s not a big fan of needles.

Probably a good thing otherwise Inanna and all his chickens names would be on his arm.

Portia

Absolutely suits the modern life in this universe, Portia somehow finds the time to do everything, the bustling worker or the relaxed dreamer.

She’s almost everywhere in the city, doing everything at once; working at Vesuvia Industries, grabbing the sweetest iced tea at the cafe, exploring the corruption of downtown streets.

Portia is obsessed with knowing every inch of the city, and what goes on inside it because it's a very strange city with a stranger history.

Portia is a great and helpful assistant to Nadia, but she’s also hiding a lot including her identity as Pasha Devorak the reporter for Vesuvian Times.

She has as many curious secrets as the city.

Portia previously lived in a small studio flat however since working for Nadia she has been lucky enough to afford to rent out a small cottage outside the city. She loves it so much and other than being in an AU not much has changed between the two cottages.

It’s shielded by so many grand trees and a vivacious garden that it feels like her own little world, the inside of the cottage is filled with hand knitted blankets, painted glass figurines and the warm smell of baked goods.

Sometimes its a bigger place than Portia can manage by herself but she likes taking to fixing things as they come along, she definitely is a fan of the saying “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!”

Her clothing choices are just so cute and by no means is she afraid of showing off her cottage core style; jumpers, skirts, vest tops, crop tops and patterned blouses look really good on her. Of course the garden requires the heavy duty stuff, sweatpants, a tattered tee and the old hoodie that refuses to die.

She’s not to much into heels even though she’s short, Portia prefers pumps and loafers because “comfort over beauty!” (although she would be pretty cute with or without).

Nadia finds Portia’s headstrong and optimism very amusing and definitely takes a few life lessons from Portia.

Who needs to drive? Portia doesn’t, she loves taking the bus or the train wherever she goes. That way she can bop her head to her tunes while watching the landscape go by, in a beautiful intricate place like Vesuvia it's important to take it all in.

That and everyone can agree that Portia behind the wheel of a vehicle is a disaster, she just gets so distracted.

Nadia has offered Portia a new phone many times but Portia is plenty happy enough with her older gen 6 iphone (because if she got a new one she’d have to get wireless headphones!) Also she’d feel bad for Siri.

Unfortunately Pepi the cat came from terrible circumstances, certain circumstances where Portia jumped of a bridge after witnessing someone chuck a mewling bag into the river.

But Portia is so thankful for her amazing kitten, the two of them protect each other. Though Pepi’s idea of protecting Portia is making sure the birds don’t feed from the feeder outside and meowing at the fridge when it’s too loud.

Portia’s music taste is disarming to those who don’t know her well, she is a huge fan of rock, any rock music just so long as it’s good and a classic (ACDC, Queen, etc...) she likes to think she is a connoisseur of rock.

Julian can not put into words how much he abhorred it when his little sister would blast that music to drown out his.

Portia will either watch every movie or show when it comes out or will binge watch a show or movie after forgetting it existed. There is no inbetween, but she loves media, consumes it even.

Detective shows and spy movies are her favourite but she’ll enjoy just about anything unless it's a musical she was forced to watch one too many times because of Julian.

Portia has so many hobbies, one would say too many but she digresses.

Of course gardening is at the top of her list, moreso because the garden always needs doing but she gets a great sense of pride growing her own food and Pepi loves chasing the spiders that hide in the strawberries.

Portia is also a very avid blogger, there is a lot of conspiracy theories on there but with a following of half the city it seems pretty popular.

In her downtime Portia is loves to relax with her favourite soft drink and beat V3suviaC0unt#1 ass on her games console, she finds the shrieking of her enemy to be great fun.Portia’s love of games however soon transpired to collecting action figures of her favourite game characters.

She is very protective of them.

Like Muriel, Portia also doesn’t have a tattoo. It’s not that she’s afraid of needles but she just hasn’t found a reasonably good design to get yet.

Lucio

Lucio is definitely the one out of the six who was made for the modern world, sure being a Count is cool and all but in this world he can have both power and freedom and not have to sit in every meeting called.

He’s never once taken anything seriously, Lucio’s power has been built on the backs of others without him ever having to raise a finger.

It’s happened everywhere he goes, in the army he sacrificed the good of his teammates to rise in the ranks, he forced the Asra’s parents to make him the best prosthetic arm in history, he codled up to an old dying man to get his business and when he found out that wasn’t for him Lucio pawned it off to his wife and rolled onto the next devious plan.

Lucio’s been an army man, a CEO, a crime lord and the cause of “The Event” but maybe one day he’ll rise above those defining moments and be greater (but that is a story for another day).

Of course Lucio did live with Nadia for a time, but when he made her CEO Lucio took to calling his mansion home, Nadia wasn’t a fan of the creepy vibe it gave off which is just as well because Lucio hosts a lot of unsavoury characters...

True to form each room in that place has only the most expensive belongings, every bed is king size and the garage is filled with gas guzzling monstrosities of cars. It’s not cluttered by any means, but it's gaudy and shows off his wealth.

The only place things seem normal is the kitchen, Lucio doesn’t spend much time in there but on the wall sits a board of old memories when he got along with the others, they didn’t always find him unbearable.

Lucio’s torn it down and put it up so many times already he can never make up his mind if he wants to keep it.

Only thing Lucio ever liked about running a company were the expensive suits he was told he had to wear at least that was a great improvement on his fashion sense. Of course he’s not always wearing suits sometimes he’ll just wear a dress shirt with one too many buttons undone and a pair of white chinos and trainers.

Sunglasses are a must, that, and a lint roller. The dogs shed a lot...

As mentioned before Lucio has a lot of very pricey cars, he is the product of what would happen in Portia was given a car, he’d get distracted and crash it into the back of another vehicle.

He’s lucky anyone will insure him and that he has so many cars.

Lucio tried to be different to the ‘normies’ by getting his company to make a phone suitable to his taste. A phone that had two charging ports (to charge it twice as fast) and a waterproof casing (that kept it a bit too dry and hot so it spontaneously combusted in his pocket).

Lucio now has the latest iPhone instead.

Owns a lot of pets, the exotic eels, macaques, cockatoo, etc... The same as he does in the normal universe, none of which are particularly nice and well behaved. He prefers his fur babies Mercedes and Melinchor.

They were two dogs he saw fighting in dog fights and he was in love instantly buying them and bringing them to live with him, chaos follows those two like a bad odour.

Lucio decided that to be the cool rich guy he needed to like cool music, for the longest time he spent his time listening to hip hop no one really ever notices that Lucio in fact hates hip hop, he much prefers pop music.

It's a secret he will take to his grave but MC has definitely heard him singing to Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’ in the shower.

Lucio is the biggest movie buff in Vesuvia, he’s definitely offended when no one invites him to premieres, which is why he’s done all he can to get into movies (with little avail). And he will watch anything and enjoy it, he is usually one of those people who don’t realize the book exists when such a movie is out.

But do you know what his favourite kind of movies are?

Romantic-comedies, or just anything that's classed as romance. Date nights with Lucio are pretty good but he cries a lot, poor guy.

Just don’t get started with Lucio and hobbies, if he’s tried something once he’ll make out he knows everything about it and even if he hasn’t tried it he’ll pretend he has. He’s forever speaking out of his a** but no one dares call him out on it.

That being said Lucio really doesn’t have the capability to commit to a hobby, unless parties count? They don’t? They should!

Although one could say maybe planning parties does count...

Tattoos? Lucio has a few; his army number on the back of his neck, a sword piercing a heart on his chest and the twin silhouettes of the dogs running on the heel of his foot.

[koko-bopp]

Drinks & In Love

wong kunghan x male!reader

word count – 3K

genre – Mature, fluff

warning(s) – SMUT, friends to lovers, few mentions of alcohol, car sex, choking, low-key exhibition, aftercare.

synopsis – You finally got a chance to meet up with your bestfriend after his concert in another country, one thing leads to a confession, then that lead to a hot session in the back of Hendery's car.

"Oh god! how much have I missed?"

Quite a bit; was what you wanted to say. You hadn't seen Hendery in so long. On one hand, a month might not be a long time for a dynamic duo to be apart, though for you two, one hour just seems too excess. His job was really keeping away from you. It was rather upsetting, but as of right now, you were just really happy to see him.

The thing about gay bars were that everyone had a good general level of respect for each other. Hendery was left alone because of that level. People obviously know who he is, and a gay bar is a rather obscure place for a presumably straight artist to be, but that level of respect was what guaranteed Hendery's safety. You two were thankful for that.

However, the relationship you have with Hendery was something else.

Like, right now, Hendery had locked your fingers in between his, resting the pad of them a bit further down from your knuckles. He'd bring it up to kiss your hand whenever he pleased.

There was that little bit of silence.

Comfortable silence.

"I missed you," He said, caressing the top of your hand.

You couldn't help but smile. He'd say things like that a lot, just small yet simple sentences that would make your heart flutter just enough. "I missed you too."

"I missed your smile," Hendery added, tightening his grip just by a very little, enough for you to noice, but not enough for you to make much of it.

You leaned in closer, your fingers still locked with his, tilting your head slightly, "Surely that's not all, I can name between six to thirty things I've craved about you while you were away."

Hendery switched his gaze to your hand for a second, before brining it up to place a delicate kiss on your knuckle, "I missed your lips; the way they talk, the way they humour..." Hendery brushed his lips against the spot he kissed, "... But I've yet been exposed sounds a couple other boys have been privileged enough to hear."

You smirked, knowing the euphemism coming from the man in front of you, "Smooth, very smooth."

You moved closer to Hendery, and he moved closer to you. It was as if you two were having a staring contest with the acception of staring at the other's lips.

"You gonna kiss me?" Hendery taunted.

You did. Closing your eyes before gently placing your lips on his, initially thinking that it would be a simple peck that stayed for a few seconds.

But Hendery used his free hand to carefully cup your jaw, letting go of his drink to tilt his head to get whatever he wanted; the taste of your Chapstick, the softness of your lips, the feeling of movement of your head indicating that you wanted him just as much as he did.

Hendery was the first to pull away, hearing the small 'pop' as he did. You watched his eyes flutter open, watched him smile in triumph. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," He said.

You responded by putting your lips back onto his, this time pushing that little bit deeper and hungrier now that you had his permission, and the consent from the handsome boy you've been crushing on for so long.

-

"Hend– oh my god," You moaned, accidently arching your back as the raven on top of had unbuttoned your shirt and was now leaving as much marks as he please all across your chest. Purples and reds flowering on the skin.

Hendery had a smirk on his lips. The bartender had given him a small bottle of lube and a condom just as you were dragging him out of the bar and heading for his car.

You were in the back seat, on your back with one leg hanging off the seat and the other against the neck of it, shirt still on but out of the way from your chest, and Hendery was palming your crotch, towering over you with his lips against your neck.

God, he thought, definitely should've made a move earlier. You just sounded so sexy.

He leaned up, his parted hair getting in the way of sections of his eyes but still making him all the more attractive. His tongue poked through his lips as he watched you buck and breathe hard.

"You know," Hendery started, pushing against your crotch with his palm harder, "I don't think you said 'please', did you?"

You chuckled breathlessly, "Y-you're- ah!– You jerk–"

Hendery grinned, popping off the button of your jeans, "Greedy pet." You watched him quickly open the lube, taking a generous amount to cost his fingers, "Take your pants off."

You did so, he then told you to put your hands against the window of the back seat. You thought he was crazy, not really reluctant, but questioning his though process at the demand.

"All of WayV's car windows are tinted," He explain. The cheeky smile on his face well telling you a lot, he wasn't lying, but he was pleased with the idea of it. He leaned against your neck, giving it a gentle kiss, "You can see everyone, they can't see you."

You weren't going to lie, it was a rather scandalous request. Exactly why you obeyed.

Hendery chuckled, the night continued with being fingered from behind with Hendery's hand around your neck making sure your back was facing his chest. Like a gentleman, he begun slow; pushing his fingers in and out of you at a pace that made you moan softly, his fingers only half in, stretching you for what was to come.

Though, you had noticed as soon as someone barely passed the car he'd be going knuckles deep, but your moans were disoriented and filled with so much pleasure it would make your forget people were outside. He'd bite and lick your neck, pinch your nipples, feeling you flinch and squirm but so pleasured that you were willing to forget his name

And by the time you were ready for his cock, he ripped off the package the condom was in and lubed it well.

Your moans had gotten increasingly louder with every second that went by, his length wasn't a good comparison to his fingers, it was much bigger.

"You sound so sexy for me, baby," Hendery said, rather breathlessly, "You take my cock so well."

You bucked back into him, an adorable whine leaving your lips as he continued to praise you, your head dipping down at how overwhelmed you were feeling, trying to grip onto something yet you just fisted your hand against the window. "H-hmm! Hendery, I'm– Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!"

Hendery left kisses along your marked shoulders, "Not yet."

Whimpers, moans, grunts and skin-slapping echoed the car. Your orgasm was so close and so was Hendery's.

A vehicle had decided to park in the spot next to his. He could barely see a couple step out from it, but it gave Hendery the thrill to thrust harder and faster, ripping out loud moans and breathless whines from your lips. "A-Ah! Hendery, please-"

"Hm, alright, baby. Come for me."

And it was what you needed to make a mess all over the leather seats of his car, splotches of white painting the material. You felt his hot cum through the latex, his groans also confirming the feeling.

He pulled out carefully after thrusting in the last few times for good measure, making sure to milk both your orgasms.

You turned around to face Hendery, rather wobbly, but still successful in doing so, "Was I... Was I good?"

You sounded like a child who'd just completed a drawing they were proud of, though rather you were gazing at Hendery with tired and loving eyes.

He smirked softly, disregarding the condom first before bringing you into his lap. Holding your thigh against his to make sure you were straddling comfortably, then using his other had to caress your cheek, "Perfect. You were perfect."

You smiled, leaning down to place a peck onto his lips, before pulling away, "Are the windows actually tinted? Or are you that much of a kinky bastard?"

Hendery couldn't help but laugh, rolling his eyes jokingly, "I wouldn't lie to you about that," He said, before grinning cheekily, "But it's not soundproof."

A colour of red flushed your cheeks, known damn well what he was hinting at and you couldn't help but bury your face into his shoulder out embarrassment.

He cackled at the act, bringing his hand up to run it through your hair, "[Y/N]?"

You hummed in response, still a bit embarrassed to actually look at him and respond.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Dummy, of course I will."

[adozentothedawn]

Flower Meaning Writing Prompts

Acacia (Blossom): Concealed Love, Beauty in Retirement, Chaste Love

Acorn: Nordic Symbol of Life and Immortality

Ambrosia: Your Love is Reciprocated

Amaryllis: Pride, Pastoral Poetry

Anemone: Forsaken

Arbutus: Thee Only Do I Love

Aster: Symbol of Love, Daintiness

Azalea: Take Care of Yourself for Me, Temperance, Fragile Passion, Chinese Symbol of Womanhood

Bachelor Button: Single Blessedness

Begonia: Beware

Bells of Ireland: Good Luck

Bittersweet: Truth

Bluebell: Humility

Bouquet of Withered Flowers: Rejected Love

Cactus: Endurance

Camellia (Pink): Longing For You

Camellia (Red): You're a Flame in My Heart

Camellia (White): You're Adorable

Candytuft: Indifference

Carnation (General): Fascination, Women Love

Carnation (Pink): I'll Never Forget You

Carnation (Red): My Heart Aches For You, Admiration

Carnation (Purple): Capriciousness

Carnation (Solid Color): Yes

Carnation (Striped): No, Refusal, Sorry I Can't Be with You, Wish I Could Be with You

Carnation (White): Sweet and Lovely, Innocence, Pure Love, Woman's Good Luck Gift

Carnation (Yellow): You Have Disappointed Me, Rejection

Cattail: Peace, Prosperity

Chrysanthemum (Red): I Love You

Chrysanthemum (White): Truth

Chrysanthemum (Yellow): Slighted Love

Coreopsis: Always Cheerful

Crocus: Cheerfulness

Cyclamen: Resignation and Good-bye

Daffodil: Regard, Unequalled Love, You're the Only One, The Sun is Always Shining When I'm with You

Daisy: Innocence, Loyal Love, I'll Never Tell, Purity

Dandelion: Faithfulness, Happiness

Dead Leaves: Sadness

Fern: Magic, Fascination, Confidence and Shelter

Fern (Maidenhair): Secret Bond of Love Fir: Time

Flax: Domestic Symbol

Forget-Me-Not: True Love, Memories

Forsythia: Anticipation

Gardenia: You're Lovely, Secret Love

Garlic: Courage, Strength

Geranium: Stupidity, Folly

Gladioli: Give Me a Break, I'm Really Sincere, Flower of the Gladiators

Gloxinia: Love at First Sight

Grass: Submission

Heather (Lavender): Admiration, Solitude

Heather (White): Protection, Wishes Will Come True

Holly: Defense, Domestic Happiness

Hyacinth (General): Games and Sports, Rashness, Flower Dedicated to Apollo

Hyacinth (Blue): Constancy

Hyacinth (Purple): I am Sorry, Please Forgive Me, Sorrow

Hyacinth (Red or Pink): Play

Hyacinth (White): Loveliness, I'll Pray for You

Hyacinth (Yellow): Jealousy

Hydrangea: Thank You for Understanding, Frigidity, Heartlessness

Iris: Fleur-de-lis, Emblem of France, Your Friendship Means so Much to Me, Faith, Hope, Wisdom and Valor, My Compliments

Ivy: Wedded Love, Fidelity, Friendship, Affection

Ivy (Sprig of White Tendrils): Anxious to Please, Affection

Jonquil: Love Me, Affection Returned, Desire, Sympathy, Desire for Affection Returned

Larkspur (Pink): Fickleness

Lily (Orange): Hatred

Lily (White): Virginity, Purity, Majesty, It's Heavenly to be with You

Lily (Yellow): I'm Walking on Air, False and Gay

Lily (Calla): Beauty

Lily (Day): Coquetry, Chinese Emblem for Mother

Lily (Eucharis): Maiden Charms

Lily (Tiger): Wealth, Pride

Lily of the Valley: Sweetness, Tears of the Virgin Mary, Return to Happiness, Humility, You've Made My Life Complete

Magnolia: Nobility

Marigold: Cruelty, Grief, Jealousy

Mistletoe: Kiss Me, Affection, To Surmount Difficulties, Sacred Plant of India, Magic Plant of the Druids

Monkhood: Beware, A Deadly Foe is Near

Moss: Maternal Love, Charity

Myrtle: Love, Hebrew Emblem of Marriage

Narcissus: Egotism, Formality, Stay as Sweet as You Are

Nasturtium: Conquest, Victory in Battle

Nuts: Stupidity

Oleander: Caution

Orange Blossom: Innocence, Eternal Love, Marriage and Fruitfulness

Orange, Mock: Deceit

Orchid: Love, Beauty, Refinement, Beautiful Lady, Chinese Symbol for Many Children

Palm Leaves: Victory and Success

Peony: Shame, Happy Life, Happy Marriage

Petunia: Resentment, Anger, Your Presence Soothes Me

Pine: Hope, Pity

Poppy (General): Eternal Sleep, Oblivion, Imagination

Poppy (Red): Pleasure

Poppy (White): Consolation (Poppy is the floral sign of consolation probably because it was created by "Ceres" while in search of her daughter, Prosperpine, to assuage her grief).

Poppy (Yellow): Wealth, Success

Primrose: I Can't Live without You

Primrose (Evening): Inconstancy

Rose (Bridal): Happy Love

Rose (Christmas): Tranquilize My Anxiety, Anxiety

Rose (Damask): Persian Ambassador of Love

Rose (Dark Crimson): Mourning

Rose (Hibiscus): Delicate Beauty

Rose (Leaf): You May Hope

Rose (Pink): Perfect Happiness, Please Believe Me

Rose (Red): Love, I Love You

Rose (Tea): I'll Remember Always

Rose (Thornless): Love at First Sight

Rose (White): Innocence and Purity, I am Worthy of You, You're Heavenly, Secrecy and Silence

Rose (White and Red Mixed): Unity, Flower Emblem of England

Rose (White-Dried): Death is Preferable to Loss of Virtue

Rose (White-Withered): Transient Impression, Fleeting Beauty, You Made No Impression

Rose (Yellow): Decrease of Love, Jealousy, Try to Care

Rosebud: Beauty and You, A Heart Innocent of Love

Rosebud (Red): Pure and Lovely

Rosebud (White): Girlhood

Rosebud (Moss): Confessions of Love

Roses (Bouquet of Mature Blooms): Gratitude

Roses (Single Full Bloom): I Love You, I Still Love You

Roses (Garland or Crown of): Beware of Virtue, Reward of Merit, Crown - Symbol of Superior Merit

Roses (Musk Cluster): Harming

Smilax: Loveliness

Snapdragon: Deception, Gracious Lady

Spider Flower: Elope with Me

Stephanotis: Happiness in Marriage, Desire to Travel

Stock: Bonds of Affection, Promptness, You'll Always Be Beautiful to Me

Sweetpea: Good-bye, Departure, Blissful Pleasure, Thank You for a Lovely Time

Tulip (General): Perfect Lover, Fame, Flower Emblem of Holland

Tulip (Red): Believe Me, Declaration of Love

Tulip (Variegated): Beautiful Eyes

Tulip (Yellow): There's Sunshine in Your Smile

Violet: Modesty

Violet (Blue): Watchfulness, Faithfulness, I'll Always Be There

Viscaria: Will You Dance with Me?

Zinnia (Magenta): Lasting Affection

Zinnia (Mixed): Thinking (or In Memory) or an Absent Friend

Zinnia (Scarlet): Constancy

Zinnia (White): Goodness

Zinnia (Yellow): Daily Remembrance

List taken from here.

[bffsoobin]

Windflower

01|02|03|04|05|06

↳ after a heartbreak you find yourself in a small town looking for purpose. you find employment with Choi Soobin and his impressive ancestral home. when you start to fall in love again, there’s no way for you to predict what you find in the depths of the home and Soobin’s mind.

➤ hanahaki au, fluff, angst

Word Count:1,568

Warnings: mentions of food, some swearing, mentions of past relationships/unrequited love, mentions of surgery (not in detail). General warning that its 11 pm here and for me that’s late (old lady alert) and I didn’t proofread as usual.

A/N: Another character building chapter! There is very important info about both Soobin and reader in here, so make sure you pay attention and read well!  

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Dinner was surprisingly good, given the two of you had just thrown a frozen pizza in the oven. He had fussed adorably over adding extra cheese to the meal before popping it into the shiny appliance. It was easy to tell Soobin still felt awkward due to almost seeing you naked because he kept at least 5 feet of distance between your bodies for a long while. His skittish nature made it difficult for you to help set the table, but you let it slide. You don't know much about him; so it felt wrong to pass judgement on the way he couldn’t even keep eye contact for a while. It was okay, though, because his behavior still managed to rustle up glee in your stomach. The pizza was one of the best meals you had eaten in days, and you thanked Soobin profusely for it. He smiled awkwardly, waving you off with a joke about owing him breakfast in the morning. His personality had brightened ten shades with the help of food and his favorite tv show on the big screen television mounted on the wall of the living room. He had a whole pint of Half Baked ice cream open on the coffee table that was just for him. He had offered to share, but you turned him down upon seeing the absolutely ravenous look on his face; worried that he would combust on the spot if you didn’t let him have the pint to himself.  So you settled for watching the show absentmindedly until your mind began to wander. Intrigued by the contrast between the home’s age and the modern interior, you finally decided to ask Soobin. 

“Did someone do renovations here?” You mentally slapped yourself. Well duh, Y/N. Soobin’s ancestors who posed for oil portraits that now hung in ornate golden frames certainly didn’t install the stainless steel refrigerator and pick out the large leather sectional you were currently lounging on. He didn’t seem to catch the poor wording of your question as he nodded from his spot on the couch next to you with his legs tucked underneath him. You couldn’t help but notice how adorable he looked sitting that way.

“Yeah, my cousin did most of that kind of stuff. He’s a few years older than me so he was able to update the house for us when he was still living here. That’s his whole thing,” Soobin wiggled his fingers in the air, “interior design. Consulted at the shop a few towns over and everything.”

“I heard that he moved, why?” The back of your neck grew hot when you realized how insensitive that question really sounded once it was said out loud. “You don’t have to answer me, by the way,” you hoped that the attempt to backtrack would be enough to curb potential awkwardness. God knows the two of you couldn’t afford any more of that. 

“He met a girl online who lives a few states away and fell in love with her. He was wasting all of his money traveling back and forth to see her, so he finally decided to just move. The only things keeping him here were me and taking care of the house. I miss him sometimes, but I can’t blame him. He was starting to grow flowers for her, and she made it very clear that unless he could move to live with her, he would have to get the surgery.” Soobin’s voice had taken on a very odd tone that felt too complicated to unpack at the moment. Besides, your own chest began to burn at the mention of growing flowers. 

The boy must have noticed the way you gently grasped the soft fabric of your t-shirt between your fingers as his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He made a miniscule scooch over the leather cushions to get a bit closer to you and place a hesitant hand on your shoulder. His voice was extremely soft and quiet even for as close as he was to you. 

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I didn’t know that you…” he licked his plump lips as he hesitated, “Did you have surgery? You don’t have to answer me either, by the way.” Of course you had seen the question coming, but hearing it in the softest tone of voice you had ever heard from a human being struck a different chord in your heart. You couldn’t find it in yourself to confess your woes to his face, so you turned to your left to admire the garden from the window view. Earlier, he had happily told you the names of some of them and their meanings. Buttercups signifying innocence, Forget-me-nots representing true love, Marigolds standing for bliss. Flowers; dictating so much of your life. 

“Yeah, I had surgery.” You cursed the shaky edge in your voice. “I was in love with my best friend from college, we were roommates and he was everything I ever wanted from a boyfriend. And I thought he liked me back so,” you swallowed thickly and finally turned your head to see a confused furrow in Soobin’s brow. You knew why he looked so confused, but he would understand your emotions soon enough. “So I thought I had just caught some kind of bug when I started to grow flowers, and he was taking care of me. One day I went to the bathroom to puke and out came little purple petals. It was so confusing. He thought they were for someone else, so he comforted me and I didn’t understand why that only made me cough up more.” A hot tear escaped down your cheek and you cursed at it. Soobin’s whole body was rigid, as if your story was enough to stop all of his bodily functions in their tracks. You supposed your societally unusual show of emotions for a past love would be more than enough to elicit that response. 

“Obviously, I found out that he didn’t love me back so I went for surgery. They deemed it successful and I moved back in with him so we could just live as best friends. No flowers, no icky feelings, right?” The question was obviously rhetorical yet Soobin nodded as if cheering you on. “And everything was great, for close to a year. Until one night I woke up in a coughing fit when he wasn’t home and ended up with another god damn purple petal in my hand.” Your fist clenched at the memory of the disgustingly wet petal that had landed in your palm just to mock you. “So I went back to the hospital and they did all their tests. There’s nothing left for them to remove. No new growths, just. There’s something wrong with me. The doctor said he had read about it before, people who can’t fully move on even after removal. That was just two weeks ago. I couldn’t stay there and pretend the first surgery actually ended my feelings for him. That’s how I ended up here, with you.”

Soobin’s face was unreadable. A horribly timed laugh track blasted from the tv speakers and made you cringe. How awkward could this first day as an employee and roommate be? He had nearly seen you naked and now he knows all about your past heartbreak and medical anomaly. You inhaled a shuddering breath through your nose and busied yourself with watching the sun slowly disappear behind the trees of the property. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t even relate with,” he gestured awkwardly toward his own chest, “growing flowers. I never have. That’s why I grow so many in the garden. Well, that and the family traditions. But mostly because I have always wondered what I would grow if I were in your position. And I memorize what they mean because one time I read a story that said your flowers can signify the kind of relationship you have with that person; especially since they change with every relationship. But I guess it’s kind of a blessing I’ve never loved anyone yet, huh?” You scoffed at his confession. 

“You have no idea, Soobin. I’d give everything to fall in love with someone who loves me back and push those stupid purple petals out of my system. Or to just have normal anatomy. But we live in a cruel world sometimes.” The atmosphere of the living room existed in direct opposition to your statement, as warm hues of sunset casted over every surface in a blissful haze.You could see particles of dust falling through the air as if in slow motion. Soobin hummed thoughtfully and got up to stand in front of a window. The light framed the outline of his body like a halo. 

“Lets hope,” his voice sounded just as light and airy as the room looked, “that the only flowers you encounter from now on are just the ones from the garden. No pain included.” You weren’t sure how much stock you should take in his insinuation that being here, with him, wouldn’t end in you growing flowers again. Was that an underhanded confession of attraction? You certainly didn’t have the guts to ask, but the idea made you feel weightless. 

“That would be very nice, Soobin. No pain included at all.” 

[agentofmischief]

Birthstone Legacy P.3

Welcome back all.

Last time, I left ya’ll off with Azalea and Gregory got engaged just after their daughter, Aelia, was born. I was planning a long engagement, because I wanted Aelia to be part of it, and also I wanted it to be when they moved into their own house.

Gregory was from Newcrest, and on his and Azalea’s first date/hang-out, they went to Woohoo Park (a park I made a year and a half ago, and put it in all my challenge games because it has places to sleep, shower, eat, paint, etc. while also being a fun. Anyway, Woohoo park always sits in the largest lot in Newcrest in my play-throughs). He pushed her on the swing set, and they flirted as it began to snow. It was where they realized they had feelings for each other, so I thought it was fitting that they’d eventually move to Newcrest, and when they did, they’d get married.

Although, until then, they decided to live in Azalea’s apartment in San Myshuno. ... Which is very haunted. .... We’ll get to that later.

I also said last time, they were going to get a puppy. MCC caused one of my sim families to be overrun with puppies. So I had to divy them up amongst the other townies. But I also thought it was a perfect opportunity for them to get their own puppy.

Sadly, while I was fixing my townies (the mcc algorithm can screw some things up, so I had to marry some townies off, which took some time), my puppy aged up to an adult.

Meet Meryl:

I didn’t want to alter her coloring, but to match the Pink gen, I gave her a pink handkerchief. I also got her fixed. Her two sisters, Cleo and Molly are not fixed. So, there might be more puppies further on. Who knows.

Shortly after taking this photo, I was informed that Aelia’s birthday was the next day, which of course made me remember that I have my lifespans on normal. So, Aelia was only supposed to be a baby for 2-3 days.

So, I had Azalea and Gregory grind for 2 days, trying to make sure their work performance was maxed out for promotion. Which they were on Aelia’s birthday. Now they are both at level 4 in their careers. I also had Azalea work on her charisma, so now she only needs 1 charisma skill point to achieve part 3 of the Friend to the World aspiration.

I thought best option to prep for reselling the apartment (ie, getting more money out of it) was to add a second bedroom. Plus, Aelia needed it, since I wasn’t sure I’d get them to move before Aelia became a kid.

I also added a closet, because Azalea kept having whims to make-out with Gregory.

Aelia’s room has the pink floors as the rest of the apartment, but the walls were yellow with yellow flower paintings and wall-art. The rug was yellow with pink and purple designs in it. The bed, bookcase, toybox, toilet, and dresser were yellow and orange.

I also had to put in a new dog bed and toybox for Meryl. I originally forgot a bowl, but I did put one in later.

And ... Oh? There’s a ghost?

Yeah. Dead Mr. Kim decided to comment on Azalea’s SimCity game. Don’t you just hate it when some dead stranger tells you how to play your game?

This wasn’t the first haunting Gregory and Azalea suffered through living here. More like 4th. And never the same ghostie either. They hated that. I have a feeling it was something they talked about regularly.

It was around this time I realized it was Aelia’s birthday, and she still hadn’t aged up yet. So I got Azalea to age her up.

Since she’s the Citrine generation, her color is yellow, so she’s in all yellow, and she has blonde hair, which I imagine she inherited from her dad, who’s ashy-blonde. Although, she inherited her mother’s eye-color, which is really multicolored. It goes from gold to pinky-brown to blue. So, I decided she’d keep the eye-color.

She’s just adorable. I mean, just look:

Look at them playing. That is peak adorable.

But, of course this could not last. 2 nights into Toddlerhood, the ghosties struck again, and this time caused Aelia to have a nightmare and woke her up, terrifying her. She immediately went running to her dad, who looked about ready to throw down with a ghost.

If we know anything about Gregory since the last part, he is fiercely protective of his family and loved ones. So, a ghostie deciding to scare his precious little girl. Yeah, he was done.

He had a long conversation with Azalea about it, convincing her it was time to move. They had both been promoted, had been saving up, and had an extra $2000 in the bank, which was when Azalea corrected him. $985. See, a charity called her earlier that afternoon asking for a donation, and being the ultimate humanitarian sim, she had to donate $1000. (I think I’m going to add that rule to this. It just makes sense for that gen, and the only reason it was left out is because I’d never had that pop-up before, so was not aware of its existence.)

He agreed to one more day, trying to raise the cash back up to move, but it was imperative they must.

And they did just that. Azalea gave a speech at work, and earned an enemy in the Llama Rights Group, but she got a bonus for the day, so when they returned from work, they had $1900. So, they moved.

And once they bought their land, first order of business was to get married.

That is the look of love right there.

Everyone important was there. The ceremony was a success.

I really wish I could have this screenshot framed in their house, because it’s perfect. Any suggestions on how to do that without having to create cc, let me know.

Sadly, once I got the moving process started, I realized you do not get the money out of the apartment, just the furniture. I sold a few things (I didn’t want the counters from the apartment. So, currently, their new house just looks like this:

After doing some digging and frog-gigging, I did raise enough money for some windows. I’ll take a another photo when it’s finally done, layout and all. But, it’s functional enough for them to live there. It has a kitchen, dining area, sunken living-room, bathroom, and 2 furnished bedrooms. They’ll have to work another week for this to get up to snuff, and the final product will be beautiful when I’m done.

So, now that the house is up, they will be adopting their two kids shortly, and as soon as Aelia ages up, they’ll do their family volunteering. I can also get the Rose garden started next time. What else?

Goals:

-Complete the Politician career as a Charity Organizer.

-Complete Friend to the World aspiration.

-Adopt 2 kids (Do not have to be legacy continuation).

-Max out friendship/be best friends with 4 sims before becoming an Adult. The friendship must be maintained throughout life.

-Have a rose garden.

-Write 5 Children’s books.

-Volunteer with family 5 times.

*If you get the pop-up asking to donate to charity, you must if you have the money.

Oh, she’s almost done with Book 2. We’re making good headway, and I’ll be striking goals off the list shortly.

If you’re liking these updated, please follow along. If you’d like to play along, the link is here: 

https://agentofmischief.tumblr.com/post/654830541237075968/birthstone-legacy-challenge

Happy simming!

[ladyirontiger]

LIT LEGACY RULES

LADYIRONTIGER (LIT) LEGACY

Here's my take on the old legacy challenge found here.

BASIC RULES:

Lifespan: normal

Money: cheats are allowed, I guess, but that does take some of the fun out of it. Generations can leave inheritances for the heirs not to exceed 10k.

Housing: sims can move from one generation to the next, but not during the generation. i.e. gen 1 must live in ONE place only; however, gen 2 can move out and then live in one place only.

Colors: are just listed to help me keep the generations straight during gameplay. You don’t have to use them.

Traits: Are just suggestions; however, the heir must inherit ONE trait from the previous generation.

SUCCESSION RULES:

Gender Law: MATRIARCHY - The Founder must be female. Only girls are eligible to be named heir unless there are no female children, at which point boys become eligible for that generation.

Bloodline Law: STRICT TRADITIONAL - To be eligible to be named heir, a child must be naturally born from their previous-generation parents and be able to trace an unbroken bloodline back to the founder. Adopted children may never be named heir.

Heir Law: LIVING WILL - The eligible child with the highest friendly relationship score with their previous-generation’s parent will be named heir. If there’s a tie, preference goes to THE FIRST BORN.

Species Law: TOLERANT - The species of the child has no impact on their eligibility for heir status

Gen 1: The Old Soul (yellow)

It’s almost as if you were born in the wrong era. You do everything the old-fashioned way, down to the way you “court” not date, and the way you dress. You’re naturally nurturing, and energetic. You’d do anything for your family. You’re the perfect matriarch, no matter what year it is.

Traits: dog lover, creative, active

Aspiration: Lord/Lady of the Knits

Career: Stay at Home Parent/Plopsy Seller

Rules:

Live anywhere except the city

Have a dog. Teach it 3 tricks. Become its companion

Have 2 children. Become good friends with both

Have one partner only. Do not have romance with anyone else.

Master Gourmet Cooking (reach level 10) and Pet Training skills (reach level 5)

Gen 2: The Homesteading YouTuber (purple)

Your parents provided everything you could ever want, and you’re so grateful. You’re going to pay it forward to make the world you live in a better place for yourself and your own children. You’re documenting your eco adventures for posterity and to increase the reach your message of sustainability.

Traits: active, maker, music lover

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Career: Social Media Internet Personality

Rules:

Graduate from university. Do not live on campus

Have 2 children

Become a 5-star celebrity

Live in a tiny home, or in Evergreen Harbor, or both (a tiny home in Evergreen Harbor)

Master the violin and photography skill (reach level 10)

­Gen 3: The Moody Musician (blue)

Living in the shadow of a perfect parent, and constantly being hounded by paparazzi wasn’t easy growing up. It left you with a profound distrust of people. The one thing your parent did give you, which you’re grateful for, is a passion for music. You’re determined to make your own way in the world, away from the cameras, and share your passion with aspiring young minds. While you love teaching, and you’re unswervingly dedicated to your craft, you lack the flair for parenting that your mother and grandmother had. Though you try your best.

Traits: music lover, loner, hot headed

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Career: Education Professor

Rules:

Live in the city

Leave someone at the alter. Never marry.

Have only one child

Write a book

Master 2 instruments (reach level 10)

Gen 4: The Adventurer (green)

While your music-loving parent is in their own head, all you can dream of is getting out, being in nature, under the stars, and having a big, loving family. You want your children to feel connected to the outdoors the way you do, and the way your grandmother did.

Traits: hot headed, loves outdoors, outgoing

Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast

Career: Conservationist

Rules

Have three children

Mentor all children in fitness

Go camping as a family

Go to the beach as a family

Master the fitness and comedy skills (level 10)

Become good friends with grandchild heir

Gen 5: The Good Wife (red)

It’s hard for you to commit to relationships because you’re so focused on your career. Having a big family was nice and all, but having to share resources and fight for attention isn’t something you want to ever relive. You’re the star of your own show both in your romantic relationships and in the courtroom. That means there just isn’t room for your children to be more than props in your life. They’ll live.

Traits: outgoing, noncommittal, romantic

Aspiration: Serial Romantic

Career: Law Judge

Rules

Go to University. Do not live on campus.

Have at least 2 failed relationships before marrying

Have 2 children by 2 different partners. Be disliked by both children

Master the debate & charisma skills (level 10)

Gen 6: The Spy Mom (black)

With a mom seemingly married to justice, who had no time for you, it was easy to get away with sneaking around, and little swipes here and there. You honed your skills for manipulation and deception, and now you’re putting them to good use. You still want to have a family, but keeping your job a secret for their safety inevitably causes an irreparable rift between you and your children.

Traits: romantic, kleptomaniac, family oriented

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Secret Agent Diamond Agent

Rules

Become best friends with grandparent (heir from gen 5)

Marry a good sim, then divorce

Have at least 2 children, be disliked by one of them.Master logic skill (level 10)Mentor children in logic

Gen 7: The Bake Sale Mom (pink)

Finding out your mother is a secret agent is bound to make an impact, and on you it certainly has. All you want is a “normal” life, and a big, loving family. You love baking, and feeding your loved ones brings you great joy. You turn your passion into a business, and you get your family to be part of it all. Money might be tight at times, and things aren’t always easy, but you’re doing it together. That’s what matters.

Traits: family oriented, foodie, perfectionist

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Career: Chef

Rules

Master the baking and parenting skills (level 10)

Have 5 children and be close friends with all of them

Own a retail store or restaurant

Have a weekly family dinner with all extended family still living

Gen 8: The Silicon Valley Mom (white/beige)

Gaming takes you to another world. Not that this one is bad or anything, but you enjoy being a hero, and the stories about your grandmother the spy fuel your desire for (safer) adventures. Unfortunately for your children, you have unrealistic expectations of them, and hold them to impossibly high standards.

Traits: perfectionist, geek, ambitious

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru eSports Gamer

Rules:

Master programming and video gaming skill (reach level 10)

Have two children be geniuses, get honor roll, and max out 2 skills

Have a weekly bowling night with family

Gen 9: The Orange County Mom (peach/orange)

You’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard of living, and you’re much too smart and good looking to let it go to waste. You’re goal is to become fabulously wealthy by any means necessary. Being a bawse isn’t always easy, so you take every opportunity to relax with some yoga or a spa outing. As nice as it would be to have your children join the family business, it’s a dangerous game.

Traits: ambitious, materialistic, snob

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Career: Criminal Boss or NONE

Rules:

Have three “frenemies” of the same gender who are also snobs

Marry a sim for money not for love

Master the wellness and handiness skill (level 10)

Mentor a child in handiness.

Gen 10: The Flower Child (teal)

You can’t be tied down by the man, but you don’t want to turn to a life of crime like your mother. You’re level-headed, and you know what you want out of life: fun and freedom. Some might say your job is frivolous, but your family has a history of being at one with nature, and being popular. You want to marry for love like your great, great…grandmother. You just want to be…excellent.

Traits: snob, self-assured, cheerful

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Gardener

Rules:

Master flower arranging, singing, and mixology

Have one child of your own, and adopt one

Have a cat

Marry someone you adore

Write your memoir

Write your family’s history

[somnolent-snufkin]

The Meanings of Flowers

Straight from the book I wrote after studying for about six weeks

A-Z

Abecedary - Volubility

Abatina - Fickleness

Acacia

Red & White - Secret Love

Yellow - Elegance

Acanthus - Art

Aconite - Misanthropy

Agrimony - Thankfulness

Aloe - Grief

Almond - Promise

Amaryllis - Pride

Ambrosia - Love is Reciprocated

Anemone - Forsaken, Sickness (Negative), Anticipation

Anthurium - Hospitality, Happiness, Abundance

Apple Blossom - Preference

Arborvitae - Everlasting Friendship

Arbutus - "You are the only one I love."

Asphodel - "My regrets follow you to the grave."

Aster - Daintiness, Trusting

Azalea - Take Care, Fragile, Graditude

Baby's Breath - Innocence

Bellflower - Unwavering Love

Bells of Ireland - Luck

Bird of Paradise - Liberty, Magnificence, Good Perspective

Buttercup - Riches

Carnation

Red - Deep Romantic Love

White - Sweet, Innocence, Pure, Faith

Pink - Mother's Love

Yellow - Rejection, Disdain, Disappoint

Purple - Whimsical, Changeable

Solid Colour - Yes!

Celandine - Joys to Come

Cherry Blossom - Good Education, Gentle Kindness (Japan), Feminine Beauty (China)

Chrysanthemum

Red - "I love.."

Yellow - Precious One

Clover

Red - Industry

White - "I promise.."

Cypress - Death, Mourning, Despair, Sorrow

Daffodil - Unrequited Love, Respect, Return My Affection

Dahlia - Elegance, Dignity

Red Dahlia - Betrayal, Dishonesty

Daisy

General Colours - Innocence, Loyalty, Love, Purity, Faith, Cheer

Red - Unknown Beauty to the Possessor

Dandelion - Overcoming Hardship

Eglantine Rose - A Wound to Heal

Elderflower - Compassion

Forget-me-nots - True Love, "Don't Forget Me."

Foxglove - Insecurity

Gardenia - Secret Love, Joy, Good Luck

Gorse - Love in All Seasons

Heather

Purple - Solitude, Beauty, Admiration

White - Protection

Heliotrope - Devotion

Hibiscus - Rare & Delicate

Honeysuckle - Devoted Affection, Bonds of Love

Hydrangea - Frigidness, Heartless

Iris - Good News

Ivy - Dependence, Endurance, Faithfulness

Jasmine - Unconditional Love, Eternal Love, Monetary Wealth

Jonquil - Return My Affection

Laurel - Ambition, Success, Reown

Lavender - Devotion, Distrust

Lemon Blossom - Discretion

Lilac

Purple - First Emotion of Love

White - Youthful Innocence, Memories

Lily

White - Purity

Scarlet - High-Souled Aspirations

Orange - Desire (Negative), Passion (Negative), Hatred (Negative)

Lily of the Valley - Sweetness, Humility, Returning Happiness

Lime Blossom - Fornication

Lotus - Purity, Chastity, Rebirth, Eloquence

Love Lies Bleeding - Hopelessness

Magnolia - Love of Nature

Marigold - Pain, Grief

Mayflower - Welcome

Moonflower - Dreaming of Love

Oak Leaf - Strength

Olive - Peace

Orchid - Refined Beauty

Peach Blossom - Long Life, Generosity, Bridal Hope

Pear Blossom - Lasting Friendship

Peony - Shame, Prosperity & Honor (in China), Masculinity & Bravery (in Japan)

Plum Blossom - Beauty, Longevity

Primrose - Eternal Love

Poppy

General - Eternal Sleep, Imagination

Red - Pleasure, Sacrifice, Rememberance

White - Consolation, Dreams, Modern, Peace

Yellow - Wealth, Success

Rainflower - "I love you back", "I must atone for my sins.", "I will never forget you."

Rose

Red - True Love

Blue - Mystery, Attaining the Impossible, Love at First Sight

White - Silence (Negative), Innocence, Virtue, Purity, Wistfulness, Secrecy, Reverence, Humility

Dried White - Sorrow

Black - Death, Hatred, Farewell, Rejuvenation, Rebirth

Yellow - Friendship, Apology, A Broken Heart, Intense Emotions, Undying Love, Extreme Betrayal

Pink - Grace

Dark Pink - Gratitude

Light Pink - Desire, Passion, Joy of Life, Youth, Energy

Burgundy - Unconscious Beauty

Coral/Orange - Desire, Passion

Lavender - Love at First Sight

Red & White - United

Red & Yellow - Joy, Happiness, Excitement

Rosemary - Rememberance

Rue - Regret, Sorrow, Repentance

Snowdrop - Hope, The Return of Loved Ones

Sunflower - Pure, Lofty Thoughts, Adoration, Longetivity, Loyalty

Tulip

Red - Undying Love, Passion, Perfect Love

Pink - Caring, Good Wishes, Friendship, Joyful Occasions, Confidence

Purple - Nobility, Royalty, Rebirth, Spring

White - Forgiveness, Rememberance, Worthiness, Sincerity

Yellow - Cheerful Thoughts, Sunshine, Hope

Blue - Respect, Tranquility, Trust

Orange - Understanding, Truest Love, Appreciation

Black - Power, Strength, Supreme Elegance

Variegated - Beautiful Eyes

Violet

Blue - Faithfulness

Purple - Daydreaming, Love Between Two Women

White - Modesty

Willow - Love Forsaken

Wisteria - Welcoming

Witch-Hazel - Magic Spells

Ylang-Ylang - Neverending Love

That is every flower I had listed in the book.

Please feel free to use this as reference for flower language! It's here for when you need it. Whether that be for a sweet gift for your girlfriend or a plot device in your fanfiction.

[talesofsonicasura]

Keeper of Dreams

A story I written last year and can be considered a very weird brain child if I'm being honest. We've seen the ridiculous power that certain cute citizens of Dreamland can conjure up. Let's see how it goes involving a certain devil filled universe.

Children missing, wife slain and seriously injured, a dark knight treads to find the pieces of his now broken life. Funny thing is... Dreams come to those that least expect it and for Sparda, they can be his salvation, whether big or in case this particular case, cute and very small.

Long long ago, there existed a world of dreams. A place where innocent thoughts of every living creature manifested and brought to life. This world, Popstar, was the holder of the country of bliss known as Dreamland. It was very peaceful filled with all kinds of bright and wonderful characters in the shape of its citizens and wildlife. Dreamland was the core of the Dream World which existed between imagination and reality. Creatures of the dark, Nightmares threatened the balance to destroy Dreamland with the Dream World following.

However it had its own protectors, the Star Warriors and their leader, the Dream Keeper. The Star Warriors were fighters born from the hearts of the brave and kind, each powerful and unique in their own right. The Dream Keeper, their general, a being who possesses the essence of the God of Dreams himself capable of traveling from reality to Dreamland with ease.

Every Dream Keeper and their warriors were successful in driving back the nightmares while protecting Dreamland especially with the power of their strongest warrior. However all good things had to come to an end. Dreamland was under attack from the inside. Their strongest warrior had been taken over by a malevolent force that they had never seen before. The land was in a panic, especially since it was also the day that the child of their Dream Keeper had been born. A child who wouldn't be able to protect herself.

Whatever changed their comrade was devouring everything in darkness as it spread like a vile disease. Dreamland had to be abandoned, the sacred core and the Dream Keeper's child evacuated immediately. The Dream Keeper gathered all of his available warriors and his most trusted comrades. He turned to his main general but also closest friend and handed the warrior his child with a final task. "Protect her." The Dream Keeper was going to face his possessed warrior alone.

The Star Warriors tried to stop him but their most trusted general stood in their way. They realized their keeper's daughter and the core came first. With heavy hearts, the Star Warriors evacuated leaving behind their home empty of life except for their lost comrade and their Dream Keeper. One large flash of light was seen through the darkness that consumed Dreamland whole. A red butterfly fluttering towards them once the light had died.

Their keeper and most cherished friend were both forever gone. What was left of their fallen comrades was their two children. The Dream Keeper's daughter and the child of their fallen friend. Soon years had passed, the Star Warriors watched over the two children of that dark night, Rosa and Kirby. The young girl and the pink puffball were inseparable, never saw one without the other. The sacred core had crafted an item to house a brand new Dreamland, the Book of Dreams. They spent time looking for lost civilians and missing comrades but also a place where they could rest and recover.

Rosa and Kirby being trained to not only protect themselves but the Book of Dreams for it now laid on Rosa to protect it. The group had safely made it to their deceased generals home, the Planet Earth. The monsters of the past wouldn't be able to reach them in their previous general's realm. The rescue ship descended to the surface below, perfectly concealed within the woods of a place near a city called Redgrave. Kirby and Rosa, being as mischievous as young children were, ran off to explore the woods. An act that changed everything.

A little girl of around 7 years old was playing in the field of flowers within the forest. Her hair curly and pink like magenta roses, eyes a sparkling green and two yellow star shaped marks on her slightly rosy cheeks. Following her was a tiny strange creature. It was pink and reminded anyone of a puffball upon first glance, dark blue eyes, red shoe like feet, stubby little arms and absolutely adorable. Their names were Rosa Everglade and Kirby Kabai. Siblings in bond not blood.

"You have to be faster than that to catch me brother!" Rosa giggled. The little puffball Kirby giggled too before speeding up to catch up with his sibling. It didn't take long for Kirby to jump on the girl before they rolled and tumbled through the field laughing. Rosa however stopped when she spotted a growing puddle of red and a shadow covering her.

Her eyes looked up to meet the body of an injured male giant. His purple coat dyed in large blotches of red, white cravat stained crimson, white gloves though one was completely red holding a bleeding wound, skin deathly pale and ice blue eyes foggy under a monocle.

He eyed Rosa before his pale orbs landed on Kirby and those foggy blue widened greatly. The man wobbled then tilted before beginning to fall towards the ground. He would have hit it too, if two gloved hands didn't grab him. These hands belonged to a grey masked dark blue puffball with glowing yellow eyes, purple armored boots, dark blue shoulder pads marked by a yellow M and soft purple cape. "Papa Meta Knight. Is he going to be okay?" Rosa questioned looking at the dark blue puffball unperturbed.

"Don't worry little star. He'll be okay once Doctor Healmore treats his injuries but it'll take time for him to adjust upon seeing Kirby. For now let's return to the Halberd, everyone is worried sick about you both." The knight spoke, calm voice riddled heavily with a Spanish accent. Rosa merely scratched her head sheepishly while Kirby tilted his head clearly confused.

It had been a trap. An ambush to separate him from his mate and nestlings. Something Sparda foolishly ran into without thought. For a 2000 year old demon, he was such a fool. He was fortunate that he had survived but 1 cm to the right and the Legendary Dark Knight would've been slain for sure. Yet it was too late for his family.

Came back to a now burning home, missing nestlings nowhere to be seen or sensed and the still blood covered body of his human mate laying outside the park lifeless. His carelessness had cost him dearly but he couldn't lay there to die. His nestlings were out there somewhere, alive.

Thought about to rest up and regain some of his strength was interrupted when he had sensed it. A peculiar energy slightly demonic in nature but one he couldn't read the remainder of its whole. However it felt bright, similar to that of his nestlings. Very very close to the point it could be his two sons. Sparda pushed himself forward from there.

Dragging himself to that signature, his wounded body leaving a trail of red as he went. He couldn't stop… he had to find them… Then his eyes laid on magenta hair and green eyes… A little girl around his nestlings' age before falling on the source. A nestling of some sort...round and puffy but he could easily feel the ocean of power in its tiny form along with a shred of hope… Then everything went black.

A quiet beeping repeated in his head as he grumbled in pain. Bright blue eyes opened up to stare into dark blue and black cute orbs under glasses. These eyes belonging to a small blue puffball dressed as a doctor. What was the word to describe something like this creature? Cute...if he remembered correctly.

Sparda looked at what he guessed was the doctor who treated him with a bewildered look. "Good to see you are awake. You were quite beaten up when Meta Knight brought you in. Giving 7 year old kids scares like that isn't a smart thing to do." A soft adult male voice came from the puffball. Strange he would admit, but he would be a hypocrite to judge.

The puffball jumped off his chest as Sparda sat up on the hospital bed and now able to see his surroundings. He appeared to be in a 'medical bay' being the human's version of a healer though it appeared the room was mixed with things he'd seen in hospitals along with actual magic ingredients healers used from his memory used. A mix of past and modern being the term. "Where am I? May I ask thou name who healed me?" Sparda inquired, the puffball let out an amused chuckle.

"Thy name is Simon Healmore, chief doctor of the Halberd's medical bay. I asked my assistants to give you space since we didn't want to overwhelm you once you woke up. Would you like to speak with our captain? He was the one who brought you here himself after all." Healmore questioned, looking at the dark knight. He had a thoughtful look but nodded.

"You can come in Captain Meta Knight!" Healmore called as the armor knight walked in his cape coating his body almost like a count. Sparda was honestly surprised that the masked puffball was even able to carry him but he could feel the immense power in this Meta Knight's small body. Looks can be pure deception.

"I am glad you appear better now. My name is Meta Kishin or what my subordinates and my adoptive daughter Rosa calls me Meta Knight. I am the captain of the Halberd and it's crew." Meta Knight spoke before giving a respective bow. Sparda could smile at the irony of being rescued by a warrior like Meta. He was more humble than other devils who held the title of knight and even a fraction of the masked creature's power. "I thank you for saving my life. My name is Sparda, known to others as the Legendary Dark Knight." Sparda bowed back in honest gratitude.

"Can I ask why a devil general was attacked by his own kind? We already knew when I brought you in that you were a demon. Star Warriors can sense what is human and what is not. Your wounds reek purely of demon." Meta questioned taking the human disguised devil by surprise. He heard stories about the Star Warriors and their home, Dreamland. It was a fairytale for many demons since Dreamland holds the source of unimaginable power. Power that could rival every demon king that ever ruled.

"I betrayed my own kind by protecting humankind and had two children with my human mate… I was ambushed and led away from my family. Found my dear mate laying lifeless and both of my nestlings vanished." Sparda said softly in sorrow and regret.

Meta Knight's eyes turned light blue and Healmore had a saddened look on his face. "I am very sorry for your loss. Though if I may ask a question... how did you find Rosa and Kirby?" The knight questioned. No demon could lock onto the aura of a Living Dream. They can hide themselves from their supernatural senses unless injured or ill.

"I felt a faint signature of demonic energy similar to my nestlings. I followed it only to find the little girl and that small pink nestling instead." Sparda answered, Simon's eyes widening in response. "That explains it. The reason why Kirby has traces of demon energy… he must have been born of your children's dreams. The people of Dreamland are born from fragments of dreams, especially those of children. Kirby must have been made from fragments of your own children's dreams and in turn carry a signature similar to them." Simon explained as Sparda had a wistful look.

"Made from my nestlings' dreams? No wonder why I felt both Dante and Vergil's own energy from Kirby and the massive amount of power hidden deep inside. Can Kirby have the potential to seek out my sons?" Sparda questioned Meta Knight. "You are correct though Kirby isn't able to at the moment. He's too young to properly sense your children's energy but it doesn't mean your children aren't safe. On the night Kirby was created, a spell was cast." Meta Knight explained.

"Weaver's of this newborn dream. Granted protection under the Dream God's seam. Safe haven shall always be grant. Impenetrable from the force of any tyrant. Yet sanctuary shall isn't forever. If thy bond fell prey to hatred's endeavor. Death will truly flood. By the first crimson spray of thy own blood." Simon quoted. Sparda easily understood what it detailed.

"My children are safe...until they draw the blood of one another?" Sparda questioned. "Correct. If they purposely harmed the other with the intent to kill or with pure hatred, the spell preventing them from facing death will break. This spell is granted for each creator of a Star Warrior as a sort of blessing." Meta Knight explained. "Then it should give me time to find my sons." The former demon general picked himself off from the bed.

"I rather not rush off if I were you. It won't be easy finding your kids and you haven't fully recovered your strength yet. Fighting alone almost got you killed once and it wouldn't miss the opportunity to try again." Healmore spoke, Sparda looked back at the doctor. It was clear neither of them were going to back unless...

"I think an arrangement should be made. We'll help you recover and find your sons. In exchange, we wish for information about this world and a chance to find a safe haven to house the refugees on my ship." Meta Knight offered much to both occupants' surprise. Sparda went in thought for a moment upon those words.

The knight had raised very important points. He hadn't recovered his power and also had no resources that could help him find his nestlings. There's the fact he is alone and no safe place to recuperate or any leads. If he took Meta Knight's offer then not only could he get back his full power and find his sons but he will also have powerful allies to assist him and a place to go if things ever went to Hell. "Very well Meta Knight. I shall agree to your offer." Sparda said as Meta Knight bowed in agreement.

"Yay! Spar-Spar gets to stay!" Came a childish giggle for Rose and Kirby popped up from underneath a table to their surprise. "Great Kabu! Were you two hiding under there the whole time?!" Healmore asked, clearly taken off guard by the children's entrance. "Spar-Spar! Spar-Spar!" Kirby giggled while he nodded.

Sparda couldn't help but raise his eyebrow in amusement at the ridiculous name the two kids gave him. "Mischievous little imps aren't they?" Sparda asked, obviously amused watching the two children run around him. Out of everything he was called in his life, no one had ever called the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, Spar-Spar.

"Rosa and Kirby, if you have enough energy to run circles around our guest then you have energy to go to Susie and Magolor for your daily lessons. Or do I have to get Dedede to take you both there." Meta Knight asked as that got the sibling duo to stop in their tracks. "Ok! We're going meanie! Please don't get Pen-Pen on us! Come on Kirby!" Rosa exclaims, both kids ran out of the room leaving a trail of dust in their wake from how fast they went.

Healmore chuckled seeing how quick the little kids were to leave. "King Dedede sure left an impression on those two. Though considering his habit of taking their desserts as punishment and the sweet tooth both siblings have it's understandable. Now then Sparda, we did manage to find you a room to sleep in. However considering the large amounts of refugees, you'll be sharing a room with Taranza for now. Taranza is one of our best mages and highly skilled at our craft. He is also the best when it comes to showing the ins and outs of the ship to newcomers." Healmore explained.

"Very well. I thank you for your hospitality." Sparda answered, the small doctor escorted him out of the medical bay. The white haired man was greeted to an incredible sight that was held in this vast ship. It was a large plaza filled with so much life and energy. Trees, plants and all sorts of flora nestled comfortably amongst multiple stands, tents and businesses. Children of different forms and species were playing as the adults went through their normal lives. It looked more like a town than part of a ship. "Sparda, this is one of the numerous camps within the Airship Halberd. Welcome to Star Plaza." Healmore stated with a smile on his face.

First impressions were everything when it came to meeting new people or going to new places. And if Sparda was honest about something. It was that the Halberd wasn't any normal ship and neither were it's passengers. It was expected when a demon witnessed something only dreams held. And dreams can create the impossible and a bit of magic to bring it to life.

And that is it. Yes. I crossed Devil May Cry with Kirby. Sparda is alive in this because there is a huge lack of stories where he is alive. Not counting the ones that are misleading from inappropriate tagging. Hope you enjoyed it folks!

[freckled-words]

Repost: Lightiplier

It’s rainy, and bleh here at work, so I felt like reposting a fluffy piece I wrote back before the Dumb-Ass-Pocalypse.

Edited by @the-wild-ego​

It’s common knowledge that the moon doesn’t produce its own light, that it merely reflects the light cast upon it from the sun. The same could be said for the beings called the Lights. Lights are guardians. Born from the souls of those that wanted nothing more than comfort and peace in their lives. A Light could appear as anyone or thing. Someone might see their favorite movie character, a child might see a purple monkey. Their appearance was a reflection of what would create the strongest connection between them. A Light will always shine brightest when they’re with their chosen. When their chosen’s soul becomes dim, so, too, does the Light. Which is why a Light is born, to bring the warmth and love their chosen’s soul requires.

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

“You can’t keep using your anxiety as an excuse!”

“You think you have things hard, what about me?! Do you see me shying away from everyone because I can’t deal with them?”

“You’re making me look bad in front of our family, why can’t you just drop the attitude?!”

You sat in your room, curled up on your bed with your notebook and pencil. Your bedroom door was closed, but it didn’t help nearly enough.

You tried focusing on sketching the angel character on your page, erasing and redrawing the wings with no success. 

Each footstep, creak of a cupboard, and a murmured bit of voice made you tense. 

On a base level, you loved your mother. Things had been good when you were a kid, but when you got older, she became someone else. Someone that judged your every mistake and flaw. Someone that tried to make you behave a different way than you wanted to be. Someone that tried to put on a show in front of others, but didn’t give a damn that she was methodically ruining your mental health.

You’d had independence away from her for a short time, and had wished for that to have never ended. Yet, you had to leave your job, which had provided you with an apartment. This lead to having to move back in with her.

If you’d had any other option, aside from living on the streets, you would have taken that instead.

Your pencil tip stalled as her footsteps passed by your bedroom door. Your body locked and tensed, waiting to see if she would ruin your small fraction of peace, once again. 

When her footsteps continued to her own bedroom, you released a sigh. Putting your pencil down you rolled over to stare at your open laptop. On the screen was a screenshot of Markiplier wearing the angel wings. His videos had eased you through some tough times, including recent ones fueled by your mother. 

His goofy personality, generous actions, and cheery smile called to the part of yourself that could still find happiness. 

Thinking about him, you wished you could escape this place and just hang out with him. Even if it wasn’t him, if you could just get some space and time to yourself, you’d be better off each day.

This on your mind you drifted off to sleep with the moonlight’s soft glow filtering through your curtains.

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

He opened his eyes, and was utterly confused. Confuzzled. Bewildered.

Sitting up, he found himself on a hardwood floor. Looking around he took in all the fixtures of the room. The desk with switching computer images, the bookcase nearly overflowing, and then the bed. He saw the rise and fall of a body breathing beneath a blanket. 

Shuffling closer on his hands and knees he got a look at your face. It was you, your face, that stoked the flames of his being into proper function. His mind lit up with all the information about himself, about you, and his existence.

Smiling wide, he could barely contain himself. 

You needed your sleep, since sleep helped a mind to mend and process, but he was so eager to meet you properly. Maybe just wake you up for a little bit.

Ever so lightly he reached forward and gave your nose a small poke, whispering, “Boop.”

Your face scrunched, you mumbled something he didn’t catch, then rolled over to keep sleeping.

He decided you were adorable.

He shuffled forward again and poked your shoulder, “Boop.”

This distinct pressure was enough to stir you awake.

Groaning, you opened bleary eyes to focus on the white blob next to you. As your vision got clearer, and you processed what you were seeing, you began to be utterly confused and somewhat terrified.

“What the hell?!” You shoved yourself back in a scramble, tangling yourself up in your blankets.

Flinching from your raised voice, he backed away from the bed, “Sorry! Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you awake! You’re okay, I’m not scary, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What, who…,” Your brain was attempting to identify everything it was seeing.He was dressed in a white t-shirt, light blue jeans, he wasn’t wearing any socks, and….”wings?” The word came out a squeak as your sight narrowed on the soft, glowing, golden appendages sprouting from his back. They were curled around, barely brushing against the edge of your computer chair and the side of the bed.

He tilted his head, and looked to where you were staring, “Would ya look at that. I have wings. I just noticed…..Well, I’m not the most observant being ever.”  

You rubbed furiously at your eyes, kept them closed tight for a moment, and reopened them. He was still there, now trying to reach back and play with a feather. 

There was a lot your brain was trying to process. The wings, and him being in your room aside, his face was a whole other matter. He was absolutely, 100%, a clone of Mark Fischbach. Only, in the dim lighting you could make out that his eyes were gold, and his hair was streaked through with gold, as well. 

The way he spoke, and was acting, was pure Mark, too. When he was being his absolute goofiest.

None of this made any sense.

“Dude, who are you?” You kept your voice quiet, not wanting to wake up your mom. The last thing you needed was for her to come check in on you and call the cops. Technically, you should be doing the same, but this guy wasn’t being threatening in any way, shape, or form.

His expression sombered, settling on a soft smile as he turned away from the feather. His tone just as level, he answered, “I’m Lightiplier. Your Light. I was born in answer to your wish.”

The air caught in your lungs. 

Was this really happening, or were you dreaming? 

Inching forward you slid off the edge of the bed. This close to him, you got hints of some kind of flower, and fresh air on a summer night. Reaching forward you tentatively poked his shoulder.

His smile regained a bit more of its silliness, “Boop.”

You withdrew your hand, covering your mouth to refrain from letting out the panicked little stutters that were coming out on your exhales.

Sensing your immediate distress, his silly smile dropped.

His wings stretched forward, cocooning the both of you. The golden glow, that had barely enhanced the dim lighting in the room, became a golden light that shimmered inside the small space. The smell you couldn’t identify before was perfectly clear now. Jasmine. A flower that could represent love, or purity. 

Warm, gentle fingers took hold of your free hand, his thumb making small soothing circles. Lightiplier’s golden eyes were locked with yours. His voice low, murmuring and slowed, “You’re okay. I’m sorry I’ve upset you. I will never do anything you do not want me to. If you want me to leave, I will. My only purpose is to bring you comfort and peace. I only want to be your friend.”

His voice, the same as Mark’s, was honey that oozed over your jittery mind, helped ease your thoughts to slow. 

Your breathing slowed, your heart stopped its frantic tap dance, and forming thoughts became simpler.

Lowering your hand, you stuttered out, “N-no, I’m sorry. It was… just a shock, that something like this could happen for me…. Thank you….you don’t need to leave, but what about my mom? She’ll freak when she sees you.”

Light shook his head, letting go of your hand as his wings opened, “I’m here for you, Y/N. You’re the only one that can see or hear me.”

Given that the man had golden wings sprouting out of his back, you were going to take his word for it.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask, and they were all just sitting on the tip of your tongue. They were suppressed by the large yawn that took over. 

“Oh right, I woke you up, my bad,” Light got to his feet, and gestured for you to do the same, “Scooch that butt back into bed. I can’t help you if you’re not getting all your needed sleep.”

“Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?” You barely got the words out when another yawn nearly made your jaw dislocate.

If this turned out to be a dream when you woke up in the morning, you weren’t sure you’d be able to get out of bed at all.

Light nodded, and placed a hand over his heart, “I promise. You’re stuck with me until you don’t need me anymore.”

You flicked a glance at your bedroom door while crawling back under the covers, “That’ll be a long time to come.”

“Good! Er… not good? Now I’m confused.”

You giggled tiredly at his perplexed expression. Your eyes beginning to close, you sighed, “Please don’t leave.”

In the brief moment before sleep took you, you heard him whisper, “Just said you’re stuck with me, and I mean it.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning you woke with a start.

You scoured every corner of your room, your heart plummeting at seeing no trace of the feathered being. 

“It wasn’t a dream… I swear it wasn’t a dream.” You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, this was too much. Too cruel.

A light tap came from the window by your computer desk.

You threw off your blanket, nearly falling on your face as you leapt off the bed. With a quick yank on the cord you drew the blinds up.

You laughed in relief to see Light. He was perched precariously on the small ledge on the other side of the window, two carry away cups in his hands, “I got you some hot cocoa!” 

It wasn’t a dream. You weren’t alone anymore. You had your Light with you now.