#even if that makes it exorbitantly long'

[eph-em-era]

well all i can say about HBO's anti-union message in that bts video is that AS A KIWI ACTOR/STAGE/SCREEN INDUSTRY WORKER who isn't being strongarmed by a corporation into saying shit that they agree with

the hobbit laws suck. peter jackson is universally despised. what that man did with warner brothers and the national government to make our laws worse for workers so he could film his bad films here in the late 00s is akin to several crimes.

we WANT union protection! we WANT to be able to strike! i'm a member on the Equity NZ (union akin to SAG-AFTRA) committee for Wellington and the amount of work that's going on behind the scenes at the moment to claw back worker protections from our fucked up local laws is immense.

most of us aren't allowed to strike. most people working at wētā (the big screen production house), as well as on most screen/stage jobs are employed as contractors, so they're taxed exorbitantly, have no sick leave, have no holidays, have minimal protection from harassment or being taken advantage of.

long hours? being burned out? that's the kiwi way of living in the screen/stage industry and it SHOULD NOT be celebrated.

The Screen Industry Workers Act of 2022 has fixed some of that but there's still so much to go. yknow how SAG-AFTRA is fighting over residuals? here, we don't even know her.

i know all this personally and intimately.

i was taxed 39% on my contractor income last year.

only now that i'm a salaried worker can i afford to get my teeth fixed.

i had to get a legal action from a lawyer from ANOTHER UNION to get paid for one of my contracts in 2021 because the production team didn't like how i spoke up about their lax health and safety rules (this was a contract I was nominated for one of the most prestigious awards in the country for my work on, fyi)

sexual harassment is rife. what support is there? basically none. we hope it comes out in the media, or it doesn't change and there's nothing we can do cause we'll get sued into oblivion.

ive worked multiple 12+ hour days with only a tiny break in the middle or none at all. friends of mine have done 10-16 hour night shoots.

i've burned myself out multiple times in five years of professional practise cause that's the expected thing. that's what you do. if you're not working at 150% the entire time then you're a bad arts industry employee.

in conclusion, fuck off with your anti-union message, fuck you for utilising our weak-ass laws and HBO i'm in your walls

if you're in the US, support the Entertainment Community Fund! if you're a screen/stage worker in NZ, join Equity!

[amourtoken]

ik this was on the poll but I genuinely couldn't help myself I had to write shit down or my head would explode

here's some sugar daddy Noah thoughts lol

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: age difference, dirty talk, raw sex (pls do not), sex toys, light exhibitionism, Noah is fucking gross and that's ok, size kink, oral, dacryphylia, dom/sub, maybe dubcon if you squint but not rlly, daddy kink

♡ god be with me on this one lmao

♡ how did you end up in this situation? It's a little clichè but you were in the same club and he couldn't keep his fuckin eyes off of you. Normally you don't go to these upscale places but tonight it was in your favor, getting invited to Noah's private section gave you a chance to get away from the college friends you'd come with and actually enjoy yourself.

♡ keeping his eyes off you was one thing but his hands? Impossible.

♡ he'd instantly rested his large hand on your thigh the second you'd taken a seat next to him. Bold, but you didn't seem to mind it. He was sharing the booth with his band mates, they all seemed at least 10 years older than you but you didn't mind. you tried to conversate with them equally but the hand sliding up your thigh was making it difficult.

♡ like I said he's gross. No shame. If he wants something he's gonna get it one way or another but he at least tries to be respectful off the jump. Just when his fingers dipped under the hem of your short black dress he leaned against you to whisper something only you could hear.

"You're more than welcome to tell me no, but wanna come with me back to the hotel?"

♡ you've known the man for an hour tops, but he made you dizzy and created a swarm of butterflies in your belly so why say no? You're a few drinks in anyway, maybe prior you would've thought this was a terrible idea but the way his fingers feel caressing your thigh and how fuckin good he looks with those sleeves rolled up and all his tattoos on display? Maybe you can't resist either.

♡ this was just the first time you met, and it led you down a lovely path with him.

♡ at first it was just fucking. Meeting up whenever he was around or sending videos back and forth while he was out on tour. It escalated to him flying you out on occasion to watch him play, he'd book you the nicest hotel rooms and order you any food you needed while you were there. He started sending you flowers at home, and little gifts. His definition of a little gift is a $400 anklet with his initial on it though.

♡ after a few months he was regularly spoiling you with absolutely anything he had an excuse to. You so much as laid eyes on something for too long and he'd get it for you. He'd fly you out of the country whenever you had a break from classes and you'd enter your hotel room to see an exorbitantly expensive lingerie set next to a note from him.

"Thought you'd look perfect in this. Couldn't resist <3"

♡ his camera roll was 99% pictures of you in said expensive outfits. Bouncing between mirror selfies together where he'd have his tattooed hand wrapped around your throat from behind or on one occasion a just barely censored photo of you bent over in front of him mid backshots with his hand pressed on your back so it arches just right. (This was his lockscreen for ages, he is a freak.)

♡ his band mates have gotten used to seeing you around (and hearing you two through the walls of the shared hotel rooms), and you've grown quite fond of them as well. They see how happy you make him and can't rlly be upset even though they think he's a little over the top with how he treats you.

♡ aside from all the less than spicy details, this man *fucks*

♡ this man fucks like he absolutely hates your guts and it's *wonderful*

♡ why was his first big gift to you an anklet with his initial? So he could see it dangling over his shoulder when he had you folded in a mating press under him. He's got the filthiest mouth on him while he fucks too.

"so fuckin' pretty under me- like you were made for my dick"

"Louder. Want everyone to know who's fuckin' you so good"

"Wanna thank me for all these gifts? You can do it on your knees, baby."

"Such a dumb little slut for this cock, is it really that good? Say it."

"Awe, can't take anymore? That's too bad, you're going to."

♡ almost came untouched the first time you called him daddy. You kinda did it jokingly but after seeing his reaction you couldn't help but continue. He loves hearing it and it puts him in such a dominant headspace, it's like flipping a switch on him. Perfectly enough, when he's in that role, you fit right into a comfy subspace.

♡ he really likes instances where you're completely naked and he's not. Thinks it adds to the dynamic since you're so exposed. He lovesss running his big tattooed hands all over your body and watching you squirm and beg for some friction. He'll deny it till you're nearly in tears before giving in.

"want me to play with that pretty pussy, baby? Use your words, you know how to ask for it."

"So needy...maybe I should make you ride my thigh till you cum, see how bad you want it."

♡ buys you pretty mini skirts so he can pull you on his lap anywhere and gring against your bare ass. He'll lean his head on your shoulder and whisper filth about how you make him feel and how dirty you are for letting him dress you up like a sex doll without complaint. That's basically what you are, a little doll for him.

♡ speaking of said mini skirts, he loves when you're sat on his lap, back to his chest and head leaned back on his shoulder while he hikes your short skirt up to play with you. Makes it 100x worse better by occasionally setting his phone up to record, angled perfectly to catch the way his large fingers split your pussy open and tease your clit just right. Can't help himself but to fuck you right there, the way you squeezed around his fingers made his cock painfully hard. He caught that on video too.

"Keep making those pretty sounds, baby girl. You like when I stretch this little pussy out?"

"Say please, daddy and I'll let you have my cock."

"gonna watch this with me later? Wanna see how pretty you look split on daddy's dick?"

♡ he's bought you countless pretty sex toys and is a big fan of remote vibrators so he can play with you even when he doesn't have the chance to be there in person. Loves to FaceTime you and watch you unravel for him while he controls it. He's used it a few times in person as well, making you cum and turning it up to its highest setting, making your legs give out and you'd grab his arm for support. He'd coo about how good you're doing for him but also tease you about how sensitive you are, fat tears brimming in your eyes as you begged him to turn it down cause you couldn't handle more.

"Poor thing, so cute when you cry for me"

"You can give me another one, baby. Promise I'll fill that pussy up so fuckin' good after"

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Hype!!!! For your 1k follower party - fic prompt request!!!

G, 💐, 🥰 and 🍎 These were so hard to pick omg Congrats again to you!!! 💖😊🫂

Kei, thank you so much!! This was a delight to write, all the more bc you offered to draw a little something to go with it!! Everyone, look at the beautiful art @firefly-party has created to go with this little ficlet! 🌸💖😍

The language of flowers

Words: 1000

Rated: T

Tags: Meet cute; Flower shop AU; Bookstore AU; Background Buckingham; Platonic Stobin; Platonic Hellcheer; Flirting; Horny disaster Eddie Munson

“Chrissy, we have to make a decision.” 

Chrissy stops stirring her cold coffee, tearing her eyes away from the bookstore across the street. Or more precisely the owner, who has just stepped outside with an armful of magazines. Eddie watches how she blinks at him, futilely trying to return to their conversation, and sighs. 

“Ever since that place opened, it's like I'm talking at a wall. A pining, sighing, exorbitantly gay wall. Either, we find a new coffee place…” 

Chrissy’s eyes widen. 

“... or you'll need to ask bookstore chick out.” 

The shock on Chrissy’s face morphs into horror. 

“What?” she squeaks. “No way, I'm not doing that. Have you seen her? She's dreamy, she probably has people queuing up left and right.”

On the other side of the street, dreamy bookstore chick trips over her own shoelaces, sending the magazines flying all around her. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Anyhow. Just walk over, ask about the merchandise. Use your charme, get her number.” 

Chrissy scowls. “You say that like it’s easy.” 

“Because it is,” Eddie laughs. “I could do it right now.” 

“Oh, yes? Go ahead.” Chrissy quirks a brow, gesturing at the flower shop next to the café. “If you can walk over and get a random employee’s number, I’ll to ask out bookstore chick. If not, you pay for our coffee.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” Eddie cackles, sliding out of his chair and prancing over to the flower shop. “Watch and learn!” 

He lets his gaze sweep, scanning the employees in the green polos milling about between the flowers. He’s just thinking that all of them are either decidedly too old or decidedly too female when he spots him. He has his back turned, so all Eddie can see of him is a shock of chestnut hair, streaked gold from the sunlight. That, and the polo stretching over the muscles of his shoulders and arms as he bends over the colorful bouquets. Eddie feels his mouth tug into a grin as he saunters closer. That one's perfect.

“Excuse me,” he starts to say. “I'm wondering-” 

The guy turns. And all words evaporate on Eddie’s tongue. 

He was wrong. This one isn't perfect. This one's divine. 

Hazel eyes with gold flecks, brought out by the green shirt. Full, pink lips begging to be kissed. A strong jaw and long neck dotted in moles, like the heavens themselves painted constellations all over the guy’s skin. Eddie is overcome with the sudden, irrational urge to rip off that polo to see if they continue on his chest, maybe trace them with his tongue and teeth. 

“Hi,” says the guy, and even his voice is nice. “Something I can help you with?” 

Eddie thinks there’s many things he’d like this hottie to help him with. 

“Erm …” is what he says. 

Flower shop hottie cocks his head at him and lifts his hand to his mouth. He’s holding an apple, crisp green to match his shirt. It crunches as he takes a bite out of it. Eddie wastes half a brain cell wondering why he's eating at work. The rest ceases functioning over the thin sheen of juice glistening on those lips. Flower shop hottie raises a brow. 

“Flowers,” Eddie croaks after an hour or ten. “I wanna buy flowers.” 

That perfect mouth twitches. “Well, duh. This is a flower shop, y’know?” 

Eddie nods dumbly, wondering if those lips would taste of apples if he licked them.

“Well,” hottie says helpfully, taking another, very unhelpful bite of his apple. “What did you have in mind? Sunflowers would be great for your friend. Bright, cheerful, not overly romantic. Roses for a crush, obviously. Red is the classic, but maybe pink if it's still fresh? Peonies for a more elegant and subtle alternative.” 

Eddie eyes the flowers, the ones with the long stems and dramatic, voluminous blossoms. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Peepo- … Pony- … Those.” 

“Excellent choice,” Hottie beams at him. “They're my favorites.” 

“Cool,” Eddie squawks. “Great. How much are they?” 

“Huh?” says hottie. “No idea, I don't work here.” 

Wait, what? 

Hottie takes in his dumbstruck face, the way Eddie gawks at the green polo - markedly devoid of a company logo or name tag - and smiles.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groans.

Hottie throws his head back and laughs, like Eddie just made the funniest joke in the world. 

“I'm on my lunch break,” he then explains. “I own the bookstore. Well, co-own. And, speaking of which…” 

Eddie flinches as the half-eaten apple is pressed into his hand, but hottie gestures at him to wait, so he does. The amount of things he'd do for this guy is quite frankly alarming, and he's only known him for a few minutes. 

Hottie fumbles around in his back pocket for a second, finally emerging with a pen. 

“Overheard your little bet,” he says, pulling Eddie’s free hand towards himself. It tickles as he scribbles something onto the his arm and Eddie needs to hold back an undignified snort. “Not the coolest of moves, but if Robin rants at me about your cute little friend one more time, I'll club her to death with a book. So here you go.”

He steps back, snatching the apple and taking another bite while Eddie peers down at his arm. There's a number on it, and a name above that. 

Steve. 

“You don't work here, though,” Eddie blurts. “I didn't win the bet, strictly-” 

“You want this to continue for another month or five?” 

Eddie follows Steve’s nod to see Chrissy gazing forlornly at the front of the bookstore and winces. 

Steve chuckles and nudges him towards her. 

“Go on, then. Put us all out of our misery.” 

Eddie has already started walking when something occurs to him.

“Is this your actual number?” he asks, flapping his arm up and down. “Or did you make it up?” 

“Why don't you try it and find out?” Steve winks at him. “I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other either way.” 

Congrats, Eddie, you've just acquired your very own bookstore hottie!

More celebration ficlets

[marzipanandminutiae]

I read about women actively protesting Dior's New Look collection when it came out and. could not have been me. simply could not

give me something elegant and graceful and feminine to wear after years of boxy wartime Girl Scout dresses and watch how fucking fast I start cannibalizing bedsheets to make budget full-circle skirts. I'm not even kidding. Little Below The Knee Club more like Kiss A Little Below My ASS Club

"it represented women's rights regressing after WWII and-" gee whiz sure would be nice if we could have rights independent of how we dressed!!! sure would be nice if these two things weren't inherently related!!! sure would be nice if people could recognize that no single style of dress was inherently repressive, nor any other inherently liberating!!!

oh Chanel doesn't like it? huh? Chanel thinks it's really really bad? shut the fuck up you Nazi athleisure bitch. go dab your eyes with an exorbitantly-priced jersey knit atrocity and continue being mad that it's not 1927 anymore

(also the skirts weren't even that long. they were like calf-length. TOP of the calf. really it's weak and they should have gone even longer. if you consider a calf-length circle skirt impossible for anyone to function in, I don't really know what to tell you)

(obviously everyone is entitled to their opinion about fashion I just feel like there's a very angry woman from 1948 bottled up inside me about this subject)

[hey-august]

Oh my god I NEED carnie buggy so bad oh my lordddddd.

Buggy running the balloon darts, offering an even better “prize” if you can win

Getting hit with the dart and making a big show out of it just to be like jk and pull it out fine

Buggy being an asshole in the dunk tank

Buggy in charge of the kids face paint station “you want a sun? That sucks you’re getting a skull”

Even better buggy and his freaks putting on a yearly carnival, everyone getting assigned their own stands

Buggy’s floating hands stealing fry’s and cotton candy from people who aren’t looking

Buggy whose gone from shitty town to shitty town, local dive bar to local dive bar, trying to find some place he belongs but he feels most at home with the other “freaks”

I have SO many thought, like I could write a 12 page essay

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Yes.

Buggy would be the ride operator that's kinda skeezy but also cute enough that you're willing to overlook the weird vibes.

A carnival would be perfect for him to be such a charmer, schmoozing people while picking their pockets.

Everything is exorbitantly overpriced, but the vibrant and colorful atmosphere lures people in, until they're so overwhelmed that they're shelling out all the money they have on hand.

Pictures with a real lion? Hell yeah.

A magician show where a clown is cut in half? Of course!

Foot long hot dogs? Cotton candy as large as your head? Ice cold beer? Wine slushies? All that, and more!

ALSO, ANON, this is absolutely relevant to an idea I threw in my WIP doc over the weekend...

Shanks - kissing booth. Buggy - dunk tank. Crocodile - ticket booth or prize booth. Mihawk….Balloon darts? Bottle up?

Just the idea, but hear me out... A Cross Guild (+ Shanks) carnival.

We're on the same wavelength with Buggy in the dunk tank. 🥰

Who knows what kind of trouble you could get into at a carnival like that 🤭

[eggroll-sama]

So I think we can get something more about these character if we replace the flower chart with their names. Here we go!

AIS

Eerily beautiful, Ais bears the sorrow of loss and farewells. Eridians believe Ais shepherd lost spirits into the afterlife.

The city has seen a sudden increase in these [Groupminds/Soulless], leaving many puzzled about their meaning... 🤔

MHIN

After a long and grueling winter, Eridia greets the first [Loventian] with relief.

Mhin is known to cling tenaciously to life even in the worst conditions, from barren wastelands to ruins perpetually shrouded in Fogfall... 🌙

LEANDER

Nothing says "I love you" as clearly as Leander—ironic, since they're some of the region's most poisonous men.

Some mages believe that Leander contains a mysterious magic, but attempts to harness his power have only resulted in lethal poisoning.

KURAS

The elegant Kuras’ therapeutic magic are vital in such a dangerous world.

The Senobium cultivates a small magnolia grove, though few make it past the imposing gates to enjoy the rejuvenating blossoms…

Comment: The last part I didn’t know how to twist it, but maybe it has to do with how Kuras has his guard up like the Senobium and only a few people get to see Kuras’ open and relaxed side (like Ais) and also his connection to the Senobium

VERE

Comment: This one is interesting and runs the most smooth.

Local legends conflict on the origins of Vere. 🌹

Whether they sprang from the spilt blood of a scorned lover or were born of an ancient Senobian ritual gone awry, the truth behind Vere is knowledge long forgotten... or held by a privileged few.

ELYON

Comment: I took some creative liberties with this one, since we know Elyon runs a business.

Elusive and exorbitantly expensive, [Elyon’s prostitutes] are coveted by the wealthy few who can afford them.

Buyers who purchase [them] flaunt them as symbols of status. Little do they know that these are ordinary [humans, wearing clothes] injected with cheap blue dye... 💸

SEN

Sen is the rare Queen of the Night that appears once a year at night and fades away before dawn.

Some believe that any wishes made during her brief appearance will come true... Perhaps even a death wish? 🌚

[fuwahua]

New Traditions

WC: 2.3k

Happy birthday Zhongli! May you enjoy the year of the dragon with your hubby 💕

Established relationship, fluff, (one sided) tickle fights, lots of flirting

“You know, it’s your birthday. We didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“It is precisely because it is my birthday that I’d like to spend it with the family of the one I love.”

Zhongli chuckles as Ajax’s mouth flaps open and shut, a fish out of water. He’s not the only one to take amusement in the action— Ajax’s siblings giggle at him as well, and his mother partakes in a shared glance of fond amusement. Despite being a guest at this household, they’ve already taken to him with familial warmth.

Then again, perhaps that’s how most families are when their child brings home a lover.

Zhongli takes his time through his birthday dinner, though it is not a particularly luxurious meal. In comparison to the exorbitantly priced dinners at Liuli Pavilion he’d taken Hu Tao to in the past, the rather plainly plated, mildly seasoned platters Ajax’s family had set out before him are simple. Yet there is warmth beneath the spices: time, set out in the early dawn for a father and third eldest son to catch fish together, an evening of marinating lamb with rambunctious children, a night time’s worth of lullabies and whispered promises as the sweet scent of cinnamon and jam wafted from the oven. It is simpler food, yes, prepared by amateur hands that have never studied in crowded kitchens and before renowned chefs.

But it tastes of home, inviting and kind; for that Zhongli swears it is one of the loveliest meals he’s ever had in his life.

“I’m surprised you ate everything,” Ajax tells him well after the plates have been collected and their hands have grown wrinkled from washing. Most of his family has retreated, his mother to retire their youngest and the elder siblings departing to give the couple privacy. Even his father, who Ajax had described their relationship as tenacious at best, had given Zhongli a warm hug in celebration of his birthday. “I thought you hated seafood.”

Zhongli grimaces. Ajax laughs, a delightful ring of joy, and his grimace melts into a smile. “I… harbor a dislike for it, yes. But it is not as though I cannot consume it—and your mother spent so long preparing it, wouldn’t it be rude to leave it uneaten?”

“You say that, but you leave my seafood meals uneaten all the time.”

“I was only saving them for someone who would enjoy them more. Who would I be to deny my lover his favorite meal?”

“You’d be a great con artist, you know that? Slippery bastard.”

Ajax dramatically huffs and Zhongli smiles as he opens his hands in clear invitation. The false anger only lasts a moment before Ajax relents, rolling his eyes, and slides into Zhongli’s hug. “You can’t just offer people hugs every time they point out your flaws.”

“Why not? It’s seemed to have worked awfully well for me so far.”

“Oh? Are you hugging anyone other than your fiancé?”

Zhongli’s cheeks warm despite himself, and this time Ajax is the one to squeeze him with a grin. “You shouldn’t be too mean to your fi-an-cé, you know? Or who knows, I’d bring someone else home…”

“Ajax, I hate to inform you of this, but you have few friends. Fewer who would travel to Snezhnaya.”

“What—hey! I could totally invite the traveler!”

“Ah, so my competition is only one after all.”

The punch against his arm is little more than a playful gesture; Zhongli chuckles as Ajax attempts to wriggle out from his hug. “I jest, I promise. Please don’t go: It would be too cruel to leave your fiancé on his birthday, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not even your actual birthday!” Correct. Even so, Ajax relents in his escape efforts, sagging against him. The sudden increase in weight means little to an Archon, but it is the trust beneath the shift that has Zhongli faltering, heart loud. “Just you wait, I’ll figure out your real birthday eventually.”

“We’d already told your family today is my birthday. Adding another day would make little sense.”

“You think they care? The more birthdays to celebrate, the better.”

“In that case, why not celebrate everyday?”

“Okay, not that many. It’s like…” Ajax trails off, humming in thought. Zhongli soaks in his concentration with affection, leaning his head against Ajax’s shoulder as he waits. It’s not often he’s allowed to witness the more calculative side of his fiancé despite the many years they’ve now spent together, largely due to the fact that Ajax insists on keeping his work and personal life separate. At home, he can relax and leave most of the decisions to Zhongli: a decision made from both their preferences and comfort.

Still, he savors moments like this, where Ajax is deep in thought. Calm, peaceful, and in the arms of the person he’s come to love the most in the world. Free to do little more than stare at the face of his beloved and take in all the features he so little has time to appreciate.

“… it’s hard to think when you’re staring so hard at me.”

“Forgive me, but between the snow and my love, I’d much prefer looking at my love.”

“You’re just—“ Ajax’s complaint fizzles as soon as it begins, eyes full of fond exasperation. It’s an expression Zhongli would have never thought he’d be the culprit of as Liyue’s Archon, and yet, he’s come to treasure every glance Ajax sends his way. “Does Xiao know you’re actually a little shit? Because I think he should know that.”

“I’ve done nothing to be referred to in such a way.”

“And a liar. You know, in Snezhnaya we used to lock people up for that.”

Impossible. Such a law would be much more suited to Fontaine than Snezhnaya, where falsities and secrets are deeply intertwined with the intricacies of romance. Yet Zhongli hums rather than correct.

“I’ve not lied at all today. Do I lack so terribly in expressing my love for you ordinarily that you think my truthful confessions are lies? Would you rather I kiss you every morning as you set off to work, and take you every night loud enough that there will be no doubt of our—“

“OKAY! Okay, okay, shut up, I get it!” Ajax’s cheeks flame as he interrupts, a warmth that creeps from his neck to his ears. Zhongli laughs, bubbling mirth escaping him, while Ajax pinches his cheeks. “Why do I feel like you’ve been laughing at me all day?”

“I’ve little idea of this accusation.”

“You’re laughing at me right now.” Is he? Zhongli raises a hand to his face, failing to hide his still wide grin of amusement. Ajax’s eyes narrow. “Stop that.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.”

“Really? You want to play this game?”

“Game?” Zhongli huffs, transferring his hand from his face to Ajax’s cheek, patting it playfully. “Is that how you refer to spending time with me?”

“Oh, you’re just asking for it.”

“Asking for what?”

Admittedly, he was probably “pushing it” as Ajax would say, but Zhongli would like to contest that claim with the very cute evidence of Ajax’s slightly irritated gaze sent his way. He could hardly help it!

Though, Ajax wouldn’t accept such reasoning. If anything, the sudden mischief sparking in his eyes…

“Asking for this!”

“A-Ajax! W-waihahaaht!” Zhongli startles with a giggle at the sudden move of fingers against his waist, squirming at the ticklish sensation. Ajax grins down on him as his hands skate along his torso, teasing.

“Wait? You sure didn’t wait to tease me, why should I wait for you?”

“I wasn’t! Ehehe, I was telling thehehe! Ahaha, pause!”

“Excuses, excuses!”

If he weren’t so distracted, Zhongli would scold Ajax for interrupting another in the midst of their sentence. Unfortunately, he’s rather busy with trying to grapple at Ajax’s wandering fingers along his sides, sweeping up to poke at the divots between his ribs. Curses his perfectionism while crafting this human form—he could have simply left out the ribs, couldn’t he?

But he hadn’t evidently and now, he had to suffer the consequences.

Zhongli shakes his head as he laughs, successfully grabbing one of Ajax’s wrists only to lose it a moment later when the other hand jumps into his armpit. His giggles rise in volume and pitch, an unruly mess of jumbled syllables; his cheeks redden at his own laughter as he protests.

“A-Ajahahahaax! No, hehehe, it–it’s rude!”

It’s of little use. Ajax’s fingers continue to wander, prodding all of Zhongli’s weak spots, pressing ever closer even though there’s no space left between their bodies. When Ajax’s hair brushes his nape, he squeaks.

“Rude? You’re calling me rude?”

“Nohohoho! This-I-I—not there!”

Zhongli’s words dissolve into embarrassing noises as Ajax’s hands roam downwards to his hips. The actual act of tickling and of being tickled by his lover isn’t something he particularly dislikes: the familiar exploration of Ajax’s hands and the almost determined, grinning face that peers down upon him, if anything, warms his heart. But it is the principle of the matter—that he is a guest at Ajax’s home, generously welcomed as his lover, and rather than setting the family peacefully to sleep he is instead laughing his head off at the hands of the man he is meant to trust the most, at a surely obscene time of the night.

Succinctly put, it’s incredibly rude to be so loud in someone else’s home. Even more so when his laughter echoes in his own ears, wild and desperate at the way Ajax knowingly digs his thumbs in little circles at the center of his hips.

“Naa—AhahaHAHAHAJAHAHAX!”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

It’s too much, not enough, the feeling of his lover’s hands mapping out familiar patterns along his body; Zhongli’s heart thrums in his chest, both hungry for more and aching for a rest. His fingers grapple with Ajax’s, pulling at the bullying hands prying desperate giggles from his throat, but they only dig in deeper with every attempt. “EnouGHAHAHAHAA! STAHAHhahahap!”

“Wellll, I don’t know, should I stop~”

“YeheHEHEHEHEHES! NOHOHO MOOHEHEHEHRE!” Laughter leaves him dizzy when the hands crawl downwards teasingly, pinching his hips and then his inner thighs as he squirms; mercy comes at last when his legs give out beneath him, sending them both to the ground. They don’t crash, luckily, Ajax’s arms crossing around his chest protectively and landing them comfortably on the carpet instead. The contact is still enough to have him giggling, shoulders twisting inwards to protect himself from further tickling.

“Waiahait… Ehehe, stahahap!”

“I’m not even tickling you anymore!” Ajax’s hands rise from his torso to his shoulders, tugging Zhongli back until he’s leaning against his chest, Ajax’s knees rising up to form a protective barrier around his own. Blue eyes enter his tired vision, a hand cradling his cheek as Ajax furrows his brows. “You okay?”

He chuckles again, this time quiet and of his own volition. Ajax’s gaze softens, sweet, and he silently thanks the fact that his thrumming heart could be associated with the tickling attack and not the fervent urge to pull the other down into a kiss. “Ahahaha… Rather odd words from the person who’d chosen to render me in such a state.”

“Hey, this was much needed vengeance after what you’ve put me through today!”

“Was it?” One would think that he’d have learned after Ajax’s “vengeance” about prodding a sleeping narwhal for fun, but Zhongli had been honest when he said his teasing only came from sincere adoration. He leans into Ajax’s palm, nuzzling it before pressing a kiss against the bare wrist and smiling as Ajax’s eyes follow the motion. “Is that all the vengeance you wished to enact on me?”

Ajax swallows. His mouth parts, tongue swiping his bottom lip and leaving it glossy. “Well, I—”

“Do you two have any idea what time it is?!”

Ah. Right. They’re still in Ajax’s parent’s house.

“M-mama! I wasn’t—we weren’t—um, well…!” Zhongli blinks upwards as Ajax all but whole-body flinches away, mouth sputtering as Ajax’s mother stares down at them. Her kind smile at the dinner table remains fixed, but her eyes are…

Even an archon has things they know to fear. Celestia, Descenders, mother-in-laws, to name a few.

“Save it,” she sighs, pinching her nose in exasperation before moving her gaze to Zhongli. “Take him to bed, will you?”

“Wha—hey, he’s the guest!”

“And who was causing all that ruckus?”

Both of them, technically, but it’s clear the madame of the house (understandably) has little patience left for any antics. Ajax bites his cheek as Zhongli chuckles; he rises to his feet, steady now after resting in Ajax’s arms, and pulls the pouting ginger up with him. “My sincere apologies for the ruckus. We’ll be in bed shortly, I promise.”

“I’d hope so,” she says, her gaze returning to Ajax. They stare at each other a moment, her eyes shiny, before she nods. “Good night, you two. And,” her eyes return to him. “Happy birthday, Zhongli. I hope we can celebrate it again next year.”

Next year. He returns her kind smile, squeezing Ajax’s hands. “I’ll be sure to return.”

He waits for her footsteps to recede before Zhongli turns to Ajax, triumph flashing in his gaze. “It appears that I’ve left a successful impressi—hm!”

Ajax’s lips leave him far too quickly only to return again, persistent, hands pulling him into another. They’re quick kisses, breathless and giddy, filling each other’s spaces only long enough to leave them longing for more. He chases after Ajax, maybe, or it’s Ajax who chases after him. They meet in the middle regardless and Zhongli smiles into the kisses that follow.

Perhaps Ajax had a point about the second birthday. He’s already looking forward to the next.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

evanstan pre-met gala bathroom quickie where seb has chris pinned against the wall and pounds into him while he sobs followed by staying up all night fucking slow until chris is delirious can't walk the next day omg yes

related to this (I think, lol)

Y-e-s.

I am fucking ✨️feral✨️ over the idea of a pre-gala quickie and then a whole fucking after party, too. Poor Chris just can't get enough of his man when he's dressed to the nines, no detailed spared--his hair, his face, his accessories, his tailored outfit, his mood that's taken over him from his confidence, hell, even his cologne. He looks fucking irresistible, he smells delicious, and he moves his body hypnotically, living in his skin so handsomely.

The whole experience knocks Chris back onto his ass. Dumbfounded and embrassingly horny.

God, just watching all that pale gold skin disappear slowly, swathed in black with glitzy, shimmery details... it's a strip show played in reverse and yet still his undoing, causing him to melt at his feet, panting, all too eager for any excuse to get close and grab and cling.

As much as I love the idea of a quick fucking before, consider the fact that with Sebastian dressed up in his tailored, pressed, and perfected clothes that that's too messy. Too many possible stains. Too much sweat and heat that could crease the exorbitantly expensive fabric. Too many noises that could lead any of the dressing-team down the hall toward the bathroom, leaning against the door to try and hear what might be going on, blushing when they realize the muffled sounds are choking whines and bitten off moans with the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of Chris' shoulders and the back of his head against the bathroom door as he's fucked. Too much, but also not enough, not for the urges that Chris is having, uncontrolled. So. Instead...

The prelude to the gala is more like Chris sinking to his knees on the bathroom tile while the dressing team straightens everything out one last time before the big reveal, camping out in the rest of the hotel room, lively and filled with nerves. On the floor, kneeling, legs spread wide, Chris is unable to close his mouth, no matter how many times Sebastian runs a few fingers confidently over the cut of his jaw. Short fingernails dragging through his scruff, reminding him wordlessly but commandingly to shut his mouth before they're discovered. As much as he loves those low, raw sounds of desire from deep in his chest, shot through with high-pitched fuck-me whines when a particularly sharp shock of pleasure cuts through him, he's got to swallow them all now. This is for Chris. Sebastian knows how desperate he is. If he doesn't give him anything now, he's not going to be able to sit through the rest of the long night, and he will either get an urgent phone call on the ride back after he's finally let go, begging and hardly coherent, or he won't even make it that long and Sebastian's phone will blow up with filthy, distracting texts throughout the event. It'd be terrible in the best, most salacious way. So, it's for him, too. Stripping Chris down before he goes out. If he doesn't, there's no way he'd be able to wipe the sharp grin off his face, knowing what's waiting for him at home.

There's no way he's going to be able to stop smirking as is, not with Chris like this. Chris. Chris, so broad and commanding, on his knees in a cramped hotel bathroom, the floor probably unspeakably filthy, jerking himself off, fighting for his life to keep it down. He needs a reminder so often to shut his plush lips that Sebastian decides, fuck it--

And he pushes his fingers deep into his mouth until Chris is moaning, louder than before, damn, at the taste of his rings. Metallic and cold. Commanding and hot as hell. Towering over him, staring down at him. He looks so untouched. Like he isn't even hard. Like this is entirely for Chris. Chris almost--

Groaning, Chris almost wants him to tap his foot while he sucks on Seb's fingers and fists own his leaking, throbbing cock. Tap his foot--those shoes too perfect, polished to shine so Chris can see his own debauched reflection in them if he dares to rip his eyes away from Sebastian's steely gaze--and tell him to hurry up and cum already so he can be on his way, he's busy, don't you know? He doesn't have time for Chris' neediness right now.

God. It's so hot Chris could weep. He might be crying. His fist is so tight, his cock is so hard, Sebastian is so fucking hot, and, and, fuck, he's gonna cum.

I just think this photo of Sebastian is good inspiration... so. Yeah 😮‍💨

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

Why You Should Rethink DoorDash, and Other Courier Apps: From a Driver Based in the USA

So this is part rant and part psa. I have been doing delivery work as a gig driver for DoorDash for years bc of various personal circumstances. I'm hoping to get a CDL in the near future so I can move on to a better job, but that's besides the point for right now. Further disclaimer: I only know the intricacies of DD. I do not know how precisely GrubHub, Uber Eats, etc, work, but I presume they work much the same, since I see the same complaints come from those services too.

This is in no particular order but please, if you have the time, please read it through. I'll preface this by saying I am not going to be rude or bitchy about customers or merchants here, this isn't just me whining, I'm just trying to give a level recount of my experiences with DD, and often, they are just... Not great experiences, unfortunately.

I don't know how many people realize this, but drivers get offered a base pay of $2.00-$2.50 per delivery, depending on the area. This is all DoorDash HAS to pay a driver. Every time you submit an order via DD, it gets spit out onto drivers' apps with that base pay + tip displayed. Meaning if you do not tip, every driver sees only $2-$2.50 to deliver your order. Sometimes, if enough drivers decline an order enough times, the DD algorithm will start to slowly raise the base offered pay... by about $0.25-$1 per round depending on the mileage it takes to deliver that order. This means if you do not tip, your order will most likely be extremely delayed, or bundled with another order, which will make it late, and your food cold.

**Emphasizing this: although I find low tips frustrating, I am NOT personally faulting anyone for not tipping.** DD should just pay their drivers, and it shouldn't be up to you, especially bc ordering delivery is so damn expensive. But I'm telling you this bc they certainly don't advertise it, and many people in my experience are shocked by now little it pays. Many drivers will not accept an offer that's less than $1-$1.50/mi. This means if your restaurant is 8mi away from you, and DD pays the minimum $2, you need to be tipping at least $6-$10 for most drivers to even consider it, or else it will be sitting for a long time or get bundled with a double delivery (more chances for mistakes + takes longer for the food to get to you).

Furthermore, in certain localities, DD offers an hourly rate for its drivers. This sounds good on paper, but keep in mind that this does not include gas money, and only accounts for the time from a delivery being accepted to the time it is dropped off. If you are delivering in suburbs or, god forbid, rural areas, you will spend a lot of time not making money but still burning gas returning from a home to where restaurants are so you can get your next delivery. While the app may say something impressive like $14-$17.25/hr, in reality, it's usually half that or less when you factor in downtime.

DD orders are also exorbitantly more expensive than if you buy directly from the merchant because DD charges the merchant 15-30% of the menu price to use their platform, and the merchants pass this on, usually plus a little extra, to you. This is before you even consider "delivery fees," which are not paid to drivers and are pretty much exclusively pocketed by DD. Also, DD will often choose a store farther away from you (so, say, a McDonald's that's 5mi away from you as opposed to the one that's 1mi away) specifically so they can charge more on fees. *Sometimes* this is just bc the closer store isn't enrolled in DD, but oftentimes, it isn't.

ADDENDUM ON THIS, HOWEVER: If you are ordering directly from a merchant that you know does not have actual in-house drivers, but is offering delivery anyway, like Wendy's or McDonald's, understand that these merchants are going to send these deliveries through to DD or Uber Eats. These orders have cryptic names for items on the Dasher's end and often we cannot contact you if there's an issue with your order, because the phone numbers provided to the Dasher's app never work. If you know for certain the merchant has its own delivery team (most pizza places, Chick-fil-A, Panera, etc), please order delivery directly through them, but if you know they do not (Wendy's, McDonald's), DO NOT ORDER delivery through their apps. It displays poorly on the drivers end and is often more expensive and a less ideal experience for you.

DD does offer DashPass, a subscription service that, for $9.99/mo, says it slashes delivery fees and other costs. Not really; the amount you pay in DashPass, especially the longer you have it, often exceeds the fees you would pay if you simply bought orders without DashPass. Also, it will advertise at you constantly via notifications and emails which will make you more likely to spend more on delivery that you wouldn't have in the first place, further eroding whatever savings you'd gain from DashPass.

DoorDash also can do a thing where they enroll stores in their platform without that store's permission. These orders require Dashers to use a red card, a notoriously buggy debit card that is supposed to get loaded with the amount of money it takes to cover the order by DD. The restaurants do not get any extra profits from these, and many store managers would love to prevent this from happening, but it requires legal action that is infeasible for most stores to do on their own. This causes friction and conflicts between store managers and drivers, delays for the customers, and solely profits DD.

DD ***does not*** reimburse for any amount of gas or car repair costs. Instead, they offer a company debit card which has tons of hidden fees for their drivers, and gives a small % cashback on gas. It is an overwhelmingly bad deal, but they use it as a shield against accusations that they don't support drivers against the cost of gas. They do...but only if you let them be your bank. Otherwise, you get your pay the Tuesday after the week you worked, or you can cash out immediately via the FastPay feature - for a $1.99 fee out of the money you earned.

DD support teams (and I know this is not unique by any measure to DD but it feels worth mentioning) are based in Taiwan, I believe, as well. I have absolutely nothing against the support teams, for they are doing the best with what they have, but DD absolutely weaponizes language barriers and the difficulty in communication to try to silence customers and dashers alike when there is a problem. DD seems to hope that if you get frustrated enough trying to talk to support (once again, not the workers' faults, the call center is absolutely being exploited too, I just don't have firsthand enough experience with that work to talk about the specifics of how), you will simply give up and not bother trying to seek a refund or half pay.

On that note, if a delivery has to be canceled for whatever reason, your driver will not get paid regardless of the time they spent on it. Very very rarely they will give "half pay," which is half of the promised payout, but only if you were on the delivery for an excessive length of time (i.e., 1+ hours).

Furthermore, if a delivery is marked as undelivered, DD will issue a contract violation against the driver. It is then up to the driver to submit proof that they completed the delivery, via pictures or video evidence, even though DD tracks our phones the entire time we are delivering and should be able to see if we were there or not. **New drivers are not properly warned about this,** so oftentimes when you have a "hand it to the customer" delivery, drivers don't think to take pictures or videos, and dashcams are expensive, not everyone has one. It is extremely hard to argue your way out of a contract violation if you do not have proof.

If you get 3 or more contract violations, you will be immediately suspended from the platform, and 2 puts you at risk of it. If you complete 100 deliveries without incident since the one that gave you the violation, it *will* just go away... But this is a subtle tactic used to scare drivers into taking more (usually very badly paying) orders, because they fear deactivation.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't try to get a refund, if you legitimately did not receive your order. But please, try contacting your driver directly before you contact support, and if you must contact support, really consider whether someone losing a job, even if it a side gig, is worth the amount of money you spent. You can often just lie and tell DD the order is completely wrong and they'll refund it without punishing the driver, as that's seen as a merchant error.

Also, I don't think many customers realize this: we CANNOT see delivery instructions before we accept a delivery, and they are difficult to see until after the delivery is picked up (as they are only available on a floating widget badge). If you ask for extra sauces or other things in the delivery instructions, 9 times out of 10 we will not see it until we are already on the road and headed to you. Please don't hate drivers for this; most of the drivers I've seen are more than happy to do whatever you want! But msg us via the app, DO NOT use the delivery instructions. Delivery instructions is for instructions on how to find your house or apartment if the numbers aren't very visible, or telling us to call you instead of come to your door when we arrive, that sort of thing. In fact, please be as descriptive as possible for the delivery instructions on this front- if you're ordering from a business, tell us the business name. If you're ordering from an apt, tell us the apartment complex name. If you're ordering from a house, tell us the color of your house or the cars in the driveway. It's all very helpful!

One last thing before I wrap this up: safety. Delivering is an extremely dangerous job. Pizza delivery, for example, is one of the most dangerous professions, and DD's safety features are even worse than those places. DD has implemented a feature for you to contact 911 via the Dasher app in emergencies, but often, this would still be too late. DD does NOT vet the areas for safety that they release the platform into, and there is no real recourse for violent customers aside from talking to support, which takes time and often won't communicate the issue effectively. Sometimes this works, and customers will rarely get banned from Doordash if they threaten, harass, or injure a driver. But the vast majority of these cases go unreported.

Loose dogs and carjacking are also major problems. Customers failing to notify other people in their households that they ordered delivery has led to me being threatened before. I've had people answer the door in their underwear. I had someone try to invite me into his house while wearing nothing but briefs. I had someone step out of their pickup truck carrying two rifles directly in front of me right before I delivered to their house once. I've had dogs nearly bite me - thankfully none have, I'm luckier than many others, but it's still a significant risk. A lot of people seem to trust their dogs when they really should not.

All of this, for $2.25 in base pay + a few dollars in tips.

I really do love delivering, and I do appreciate the freedom DD gives me in choosing my work schedule right now. However, the compensation is woefully bad, the company scams merchants, customers, and drivers alike, and the working conditions are very unsafe.

Idk how many people here really use DD, or what in particular can even be done about most of these issues, but I hope this enlightened some folks.

[cowboyemeritus]

Sleeping Beauty (Aurora/Reader)

Aurora gets a wake up call. (18+)

Read on AO3

i'm still kind of on hiatus but here's a little thing about my pretty pretty princess. just a quick warning because this one's got somnophilia.

reader is gn here but i would kill to be aurora's loser failgirl gf. just putting that out there.

A conveniently placed beam of morning light rouses you from your slumber. With a yawn, you sit up and stretch, cringing at the loud pop your back makes. Long days and nights on the road have left your muscles tight and joints stiff. Everyone on the Ghost Project, yourself included, is thankful for this day of rest, and for the chance to sleep in a real bed.

Surveying the hotel room sends the highlight reel of the previous night’s events whirling through your mind. You recall frenzied kisses and layers of clothing shed in rapid succession as the two of you rode the post-ritual high in each other’s arms. A glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table tells you it’s a quarter to nine, earlier than you would like to be awake, but better than your usual five-thirty.

You note slow, deep breathing next to you. Aurora is still fast asleep, clad in only a white tank top and lacy pink panties. It’s only natural that you’re awake long before she is; the ghoul practically goes into hibernation as soon as her head hits the pillow. You can’t help but smile at the messiness of her fluffy white hair and the small line of drool dribbling down her chin. The last few weeks have been full of anxiety given her new position in the band, so it’s good to see her finally relax and drop the decorum. Even like this, though, she’s exquisitely beautiful.

Deciding to try and get a little more sleep, you lay back down, draping an arm over Aurora’s waist. Although completely dead to the world, it seems she can sense your presence and lets out a faint, contented hum. The sound of her breathing acts as your lullaby, gradually pulling the blanket of sleep back over your mind. 

You’re just about to slip into unconsciousness when Aurora shifts, rolling from her side to lay on her back. In the process, your hand slips under the hem of her top, the tips of your fingers brushing against the soft skin on her stomach. It’s barely perceptible, but your eyes finally crack open at the noise that works its way out of her throat. You suppose it’s ghoul instinct, being able to rest while still having some sense of one’s surroundings. Resigning yourself to the waking world, you decide to make the most of it. This is her favorite way to be woken up, after all.

Slowly, you drag your hand up her torso. It must tickle, as Aurora flinches slightly. Once you’re sure she’s still asleep, you continue, coming to a stop when one of her breasts is in your grasp. You knead the soft flesh, smiling to yourself as her nipple quickly hardens against your palm. Taking it between two fingers, you give the pink bud a light pinch. The ghoul hums out a soft moan that has you salivating like a dog. You already need more.

Carefully, as not to risk waking her, you shimmy down so that your face is level with her chest. Pulling the flimsy top up, you quickly latch on, dragging the tip of your tongue across her nipple. This time, the ghoul’s lips part, a melodic sigh dissipating into the morning air.

While you suck gently, your arm slinks down to the waistband of Aurora’s panties. They’re your favorite: baby pink lace that just barely contains the swell of her ass. Dipping under the fabric, it doesn’t take long before your fingers are drawing slow, lazy circles around her clit. She gasps out what sounds like your name, the sound stoking the flames of arousal now flickering in your gut. You smile to yourself as you take her nipple between your teeth and tug. Aurora’s hips buck against your hand, the tips of your fingers slipping down to find that she’s already exorbitantly wet. Something in your still foggy, sleep-addled mind screams at you to taste her.

Throwing caution to the wind, you detach from her breast. A small pop! bounces off the walls of the hotel room as the seal between your lips and her soft flesh breaks. Finally you retreat from her side, propping yourself up on your hands and knees to hover above her. Your form practically swallows hers, and you take a moment to study the small ghoul. Even in the dim light, her cheeks are noticeably flushed, her exposed nipple glistening with your saliva. Despite her horns and tail, she looks like an angel laying there under you, completely oblivious to what you’re doing. 

Satan in Hell, you’d eat her if you could.

You snap out of your reverie when Aurora whines with need, squeezing her plush thighs together. She must be having a particularly vivid dream. Deciding to have pity on her, your fingers quickly hook around the waistband of her underwear and you pull, exposing her soaked core. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but you’re eventually laying between her legs, licking your lips at the sight of her arousal.

When you can’t take the suspense any longer, you descend on Aurora’s clit, giving it a gentle suck. She convulses against you and for a moment, you think you’ve woken her. You wait a beat with no further reaction before burying your face between her thighs once again. While you work, her moans and whimpers get closer together, but you can tell by the volume that she is still very much asleep.

It’s the eventual protrusion of your finger into her tight cunt that finally has Aurora gasping awake. Her hands immediately tangle in your hair, the tips of her manicured nails scratching against your scalp. You hum at the pleasant sensation, pulling a full-bodied moan from the ghoul.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t stop,” she groans, grinding her hips into your face. Having had no intention of letting up, you continue lathing your tongue across her clit and fucking the lone digit into her. Soon enough, her pussy starts to flutter around it, and you know she’s almost there. With well-practiced precision, you angle your finger just right, massaging that spot of spongy flesh that has Aurora keening. A few more swipes of your tongue and she’s falling over the edge, thrashing beneath you with a drawn-out cry.

It briefly crosses your mind that your room is sandwiched between Papa’s and Dew and Rain’s. That thought is immediately forgotten when Aurora sighs, lovingly running her fingers through your hair. Migrating upwards, you situate yourself on top of the ghoul, and she giggles as you smother her with your weight. You cup her cheek with a hand and kiss her hard, forcing your tongue into her mouth so that she can get a good taste of herself. She happily accepts, and you smile as her hands find their way to the globes of your ass.

“I was dreaming about you,” Aurora says with a pout once you pull away. You laugh, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

“Sorry for waking you, princess. You looked so pretty, I just couldn’t resist.”

[immajustvibehere]

High honour Arthur "can I stay? I won't be trouble, I promise" but he was actually planning on robbing Y/N's house but Y/N was too kind to him

Warning: This is unfinished. A drabble, the beginning of a story. Not proof-read. Not even auto-corrected.

It's been rotting in my drafts for a half a year now, but rather than deleting it, I thought I'd post what I had. Maybe someone feels inspired to take it up and make a proper story out of it.

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

2200 words

"Arthur! You're exactly the man I've been looking for", was Uncle's greeting to Arthur, who had just risen from a way too short night's sleep.

Since the first mention of his name, so early in the morning and by a man who was notorious for pushing his work onto other people's plate, Arthur had to try hard to hold back a sigh. Instead, he shrugged slightly and continued on his way to the coffee pot, without granting the old man as much as a fleeting glance. "Am I, now?". he asked sarcastically as he poured hot water on a tin mug which bottom he had exorbitantly covered with ground coffee.

"Yes. Listen, I have a fresh lead. It's a good one. But we must act quickly", Uncle reported.

"We?", Arthur inquired with raised eyebrows. To lend his words some effect, he took a sip from the coffee, which resulted in him burning his tongue and cringing at the bitter taste.

"Well, yes. We are partners after all, aren't we?", Uncle went on, "I bring you the information, you act on it. Trust me, you're one of the only ones who can pull it off. Hear it, and you will agree that I'd be useless in the field of action."

"Alright then", Arthur gave in. There was no damage in hearing the old man out.

"There is this widow...her husband just died and the word is, he left her a pretty sum of money. We are talking hundreds! Three hundred, five hundred - people aren't quite sure. And all this money is rumoured to be hidden in her home. She's a real naive girl. Stupid, even. Wouldn't cotton on to being robbed in front of her eyes. That's where you come in!"

As it so happened it was in Arthur's character to have a distaste for doing widows an injustice. It was only a couple of weeks after he had threatened a widow to pay a debt, though her diseased husband, for whose death Arthur was not quite unblameable, would have been her only chance of doing so. The incident had started to plague his mind of recently and there was a subtle objection of adding another similar case to his conscience.

"So you want me to hold a mourning woman at gunpoint and take her money?", Arthur summarised.

"Yes and no", Uncle made a dismissive hand movement, "You don't have to be such a brute about it. She's stupid, remember? Woo her. Gain her trust and then...oh, I don't know, steal her money without her realizing. Put on an act!"

Arthur didn't know if he should laugh or grumble at this suggestion. "If you want an act, go and ask some of the girls or Hosea!", Arthur snorted. It hasn't been so long ago that Arthur had acted as Fenton for Hosea's funny advertising play. Uncle shook his head: "No, trust me. Hosea won't do. See we need-" The old man paused to take a step back and consider Arthur's frame. "A somewhat decent looking man her age", the old man made a sour face when he had to pay Arthur's appearance a compliment.

Arthur didn't even hear the compliment, he only observed Uncle's desperation of finding someone to do his dirty work and unfortunately, Arthur knew he was fool enough to do it. "Fine", Arthur stated. The premise of a trip to Strawberry and a few days away from camp - and Uncle - didn't sound too bad. And making money without shedding blood? Why not. "I knew you'd be on board. North of Strawberry, somewhere in the Big Valley. Nice little cabin and a beautiful garden - you can't possibly miss it!", Uncle shouted the last instructions because Arthur had already turned his back towards him and was walking off to his horse. With a quick wave he wanted to make understood that he had heard it and would be off.

-

It was evening when Arthur rode through Strawberry. He had quite forgotten how chilly it can get near the Big Valley. Thankfully, he was brutally reminded with almost freezing temperatures and drizzle, that as soon as he had taken the road North out of Strawberry had changed into severe rain. Identifying the cabin proved to be no challenge. Arthur had barely left Strawberry (in an enormous tempo, one must add, so he would be quicker to find shelter) when a wooden cabin presented itself in the distance. It was a bit off the beaten track and a garden surrounded it, and besides the clouds, the rain and the fast approaching twilight, straggling bushes with flowers and patches rich with vegetables could be made out.

Arthur had gone through many moments during his ride where he had changed his mind. At first, he was determined to follow Uncle's suggestion and play a wounded, lost man who needed shelter. Later, he had suffered under the mind bugging truth that he simply wasn't a good actor and even if he tried fooling someone, he'd probably fail. And yet, the woman was supposed to be slow on the uptake, so why not? If he messed up, he could always resort to the old methods in which he was proficient; threatening and killing. Though, killing a widow? What if the woman turned out to be a miserable wretch mourning for her dead husband? Could he really hurt her?

Those intricacies had gone on the entire ride, and Arthur was exhausted. As he dismounted the horse and had stowed away all his weapons - as to not appear too suspicious - he sent it away. He had decided to go with the initial plan, so the lost man in need for shelter. Wherever it would go from hence onwards, Arthur was confident that he had the upper hand. With a final sigh he disturbed his shirt and ruffled through his hair, though he put his hat back on. He didn't even have try hard to look pitiable, the long ride was perceivable on his face and his clothes were soaked. Arthur couldn't believe how nervous he was. His heart beat faster than it did before robbing a stagecoach or running from the law.

Finally, he walked up to the front door. Before he knocked, he slouched his shoulders and bended his left leg, letting his weigh rest on his right side. He had decided to fake a limb, just to make his story more believable. There he stood; dishevelled, shivering and anything but confident about what he was going to pull off. And yet, this might help him play his role. The knock was carefully delivered to the door, not too strong as to give away his cover, but not weak enough so it could have gone unheard. Arthur gulped and waited. The water that was running down his neck became an actual nuisance as it sent violent shivers through his whole body. Even if he had tried to deny it; he actually needed shelter. It was only in the corner of his eye that he saw some curtains shift and before he could have looked up, the door was opened.

Arthur's gaze fell onto cosy slippers and legs that obviously belonged to a woman. "Yes?", a gentle voice asked.

"I'm...I'm very sorry for the intrusion ma'am. But yer house was the first thing I saw after my horse threw me off. I-", Arthur had started to convincingly deliver his story. The fatigue in his voice helped to overshadow a slight tone that proved a lack of practice when it came to playing a person he was not. And yet, the biggest mistake was being made when he looked up. He had expected an old woman. A widow with a face marked by age and sorrow, but what he found was the beautiful frame of a young woman, with a face so youthful and fair, it had caught him completely off guard. The realisation that he was staring and pausing for too long a while made him stutter and present the rest of the rehearsed introduction: "Can I stay? Jus' to warm up a bit. I won't be trouble, I promise." The woman was suddenly stirred into action, nodding approvingly and pleading him to come in: "Of course! Of course! You're not hurt, sir?"

Arthur remembered his limping leg just in time before he made a few steps. "Not seriously. Jus' my leg...", the last three words he only mumbled under his breath. The woman stood aside and held the door far open for him to enter. When he stepped into the house, a conflict arose in him that stemmed from the unprecedented feeling of being out of place as well as perfectly at home. The cabin wasn't the biggest, but it was by far the most homely furnished house he had ever stepped foot into. After the woman had closed the door behind him, the warmth of the fire had time to reach and engulf him. Oil lamps and candles were scattered throughout the room, illuminating a sofa drowning in pillows and blankets, carved cabinets, a small but richly stacked bookshelf and a kitchen that seemed to lack nothing. Everything was tidy; the table, the rugs on the floor, the paintings and pictures on the wall hung in perfect symmetry. Arthur had never been able to brag with a sense for furnishing houses, probably because he had lived outside for most of his life, but he could tell that everything was right here.

"Oh", the woman's exclamation snapped Arthur out of his thoughts. "I'll get you a towel!", she offered and hurried off to one of two closed doors. As the door stood open, Arthur could see a bathtub. While he might have had some doubts about having found the right house when he didn't find an old woman but this youthful creature instead, there was no doubt about her being rich. It had to be the right address. Arthur embarrasingly noticed the puddle he was causing on the floor, so while the woman came back with a towel, he got out of his boots. He scrunched his nose a bit when he realised that he was going to rob this woman, and yet he cared about not spreading water and dirt all over her house. But hey, he thought, that's part of the act.

"Here you go, sir", the towel was handed to him. To his surprise, it wasn't only clean and soft, but also warm. "Thank you", he mumbled before taking of his hat and drying his hair and face. In the meantime, the woman was bobbing on her toes, maybe slightly uncomfortable. But when Arthur was looking at her, he was greeted by a gentle smile.

"You know, you're in luck, sir. I had planned to take a bath later, but the water is all warmed up already. And I think you'd need it more", she offered. Arthur felt his cheeks getting warm. He had had no idea what would happen after entering the cabin, there had been no possibility of planning this far ahead, but he certainly hadn't considered that he would have the opportunity to take a bath. "Oh, ma'am...I really don't want to be-". "No, no! It's fine! Really. You've got to get out of those clothes anyway. I'll give you some of Henry's. I'm sure they'll fit." As she turned her back towards Arthur to walk to a closet, Arthur took the opportunity to inquire further.

"Is Henry your brother?", he asked, fumbling with the towel.

"Oh no, he's my husband. Well, my late husband. He died barely two weeks ago", the woman explained as she took out pants and a nice shirt.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, ma'am", Arthur said with a raspy and regretful voice. He was rather proud of this sentence, as it was particularlymournful and convincing. But the woman turned to him again, a smile on her lips: "He was old and had it coming. I'll tell you more later, if you're willing to listen. I don't really have anyone else to talk to, so I'm rather glad you stumbled by this house." She handed over the clothes and suddenly blushed: "I'm - erm. I'm sorry it happened under those circumstances though. Being thrown off your horse and all that..." A tingling sensation in Arthur's stomach made him swear to himself that he would not hurt this woman at all costs. It is possible to pull off a heist without hurting the victim, is it not? He couldn't refrain from speaking some words of encouragement: "Don't worry. That isn't the first time a horse threw me off."

He was sent off to the bathroom. It was even warmer in here than it was in the living room, the water was steaming and foam was piling up to glittery mountains. The girl had closed the door behind him, leaving him privacy to undress and get into the bathtub. The clothes she had picked out for him lay neatly piled on a chair, his own he peeled out of and hung up somewhat sloppily on a clothesline rope in front of a small fireplace. When Arthur sunk into the hot water, he let out a satisfied groan, the water making his cold skin and muscles prickle. His mission was almost forgotten. Only after a few moments he opened his eyes again and inspected the room. This might be a valuable painting on the wall. The fireplace poker looked remarkably shiny and expensive.

[thelastburaiha]

”He said I'm the winning lottery ticket, like he's never meant anything more.

She lives like tomorrow isn't coming

“Strip club” (Modern AU)

[Translation Without Permission]

Originally from: https://x.com/whan_notsweet/status/1720268892906700818?s=46&t=zD_H5xyZUjJs4TRzJKlOHg

Baratie is a famous private club.

Those who can enter must be members who pay an expensive membership fee every month.

In exchange for seeing a special show with high-class service and luxurious drinks from around the world.

Zoro is in the VIP customer group.

The exorbitantly expensive membership fees are nothing to President Roronoa's Influence as the number 1 professional kendo athlete, position that made him a level VIP black card member without difficulty.

He only comes to the club twice a week on Wednesdays and Saturdays, when his favourite striper performs.

The first time he decided to try drinking at this club was; invitation of a close friend who want to take him out to relax.

The club looked normal but a blonde pole dancing in high heels with a beautiful body that moves at the beat of the music.

Captured his gaze.

Zorro was unable to take his eyes off the stripper as "Sanji" felt the predatory stare of this new client burning him.

Making him finish his dance more embarrassed than usual.

Sometimes, Sanji likes to peek around the bar counter, and after that electrifying first mutual stare was determined to walk over to that new regular VIP green-haired who sits alone at the bar with a drink every Wednesday and Saturday.

He send a sweet smile when the show ends.

Today is the same:

Zoro took his seat and order a beer to drink.

The lights in the store went out, signaling that the show is about to start.

The red lights on the stage lit up and Sanji's slender figure slowly walked onto the stage.

There are just a few clothes that barely can hide anything.

Stiletto-heeled boots that came up just below the knee, his beautiful lips painted with sweet gloss, smiling. Before raising his hand to grab the pole in the middle of the stage His slender body swings and spins, following the rhythm of the music. Their beautiful legs are connected to a pole, keeping his body spinning.

The round hips shook slowly and tantalizingly as he took off his boots, leaving only his bare feet to dance to the slow beat.

Opening his mouth slightly, he purposely turned his eyes towards that person at the bar.

He smiled brightly when he saw how Mr. Zoro gulped. When their eyes meet.

Blue eyes stared at the target.

Running his slender hands down on his body while his legs lifted up and hooked onto the silver pole.

Twisting at the waist deliberately seductive.

This vision, made the man at the bar raise his glass to take a sip and cool off the crescent heat.

The show ended with applause.

Before long, a talented dancer in a black silk robe came to sit next to him.

He knowingly ordered a dry martini.

"Do you like today's show?" —Asked the dancer, giving him a sweet smile that melted any heart.

“This glass is a reward for talented people.” —Mentioned the VIP client and handed him the martini glass.

A white hand picked up the glass and sipped before looking at the sharp face of "his" VIP Client.

“If I wanted to get more rewards…Roronoa, can you be kind to me?”— Sanji asked with mock sweetness.

A large hand moved to hold a strand of blonde hair behind his ear.

Now showing his sweet face, Zoro felt something inside of him cracking down.

“Then what do you want? Please tell me.”

Sanji took the pestle's hand and held it in his.

“After the club ends today…take me back with you…”

Sanji knew that love at first sight in a place like this didn't exist... the other person was just fascinated by his body and the show.

Even so, he wants to give it a chance, even if it's just a touch overnight

Zoro knew in his heart, that this kind of love was impossible.

The other side wants to get rich customers to patronize them.

Even so, they wish at last it would be good to hold it for a while.

Like insects drawn to the flame, dreaming that fire was the sun in the middle of the night, they were happy to walk into the fire.

-END-

[megachiraztfs]

Suit Up

Reports came from all over the world that a new plague was affecting people - for a long time, the governments of the world had not taken it seriously, as no people were dying. But they were changing. Seamus had seen what happened to infected people. And it scared him. Even his best friend was infected. And tried everything to get Seamus to join them. Even the most brainless man became a distinguished gentleman with fine expressions, fancy clothes and an irrepressible desire for men.

"Come out, my friend, I want to share this exorbitantly good feeling with yours truly," Patrick purred as he sought Seamus' hiding place. Seamus paused in lust. How was the plague spreading? He couldn't remember with panic. Through the air? If so... it would explain why Seamus, since he was cowering in the closet, could only think of letting Patrick dress him first and then undress him. The fact that his heart was pumping more and more blood through his body didn't make it any better.

With a jerk, the wardrobe doors were yanked open. And there he stood. Patrick. Or what had once been Patrick. Patrick was the star player of the local football team. He was always running around in sports gear. Jeans or something similar were only seen on him on holidays. Even then, though, he always wore a jersey as a top.  Now he wore a perfectly tailored suit, everything was neat, pressed. He looked older. No longer like a college student, but rather.... like someone well over 30!

Seamus swallowed. He could not leave now. "There you are, oh dear, how run down you look, dear friend? Those sweatpants, those trainers... as usual... I will help you.... and then you'll understand everything," Patrick said in a stately jovial manner of speaking.

Seamus shook his head. And slid back even further, hoping he could just disappear into the grey back wall of the closet. But then Patrick grabbed Seamus and pulled him out with one hand so that he was dangling in the air. Seamus shrieked. Then Patrick opened his mouth and a dark red cloud emerged. Unable to close his mouth or hold his nose and eyes shut, the cloud enveloped Seamus.

His clothes dissolved, feeding the red smoke with new food. Seamus struggled but he seemed to float in mid-air, the cloud enveloping him impenetrably. He stared helplessly into this red world. Suddenly the red smoke condensed into several strands and shot into Seamus' mouth, eyes, nose and ears. The smoke settled on his twitching limbs. His compact figure became longer and slimmer, all a little more delicate. The short blond hair turned dark brown, an invisible hand generously coated it with hair gel and pulled it back, making it longer. The same colour made his eyebrows more prominent, dark circles filling his eyes until they too looked out into the world with a mystical dark brown.

A skin-tight black shirt with gold appliqués wrapped itself around Seamus' now slender figure. It felt right. Everything had to be fitting right. Neat, tight, immaculate. "Why did I always wear this rubbish? I was made for better things," Seamus gasped and felt his fear disappear. He no longer feared what was to come, he welcomed it. With his eyes closed and his face relaxed, he felt the mottled red suit waistcoat, jacket, trousers, shoes and everything else appear on his body. Seamus felt secure. Safe. And confident.

A noble walking stick appeared in Seamus' hand, brooches, cufflinks and other jewellery materialised on his body. Finally, the cloud around him dissipated and he stood before Patrick again. And Patrick had never looked more attractive to him - with desire in his expression he used his new stick to draw the other man closer to him. Seamus was now much taller. He felt... superior. But not to Patrick. But together with him as they locked lips.

I know - this story is a little similar to the last one, but this had been an old draft I finally was able to finish. ^^’ Have a suit-able sunday y’all! 

[razieltwelve]

Technicality (Final Rose)

Lightning groaned as Fang shoved her back onto the bed. A fortnight apart due to missions had left neither of them in the mood to wait. Their lips met, and Lightning tasted blood. That was fine. There was a time for making love, and a time for fucking.

And right now, Lightning wanted to be fucked.

Fang pulled away, and Lightning reached up to drag her back into another kiss. The dark-haired woman put one hand on her chest and shoved her back, so she could grab Lightning shirt properly and pull.

The garment ripped with hardly a moment of resistance, and Lightning experienced a momentary flash of sanity. That shirt had been made of the finest combat fabrics available. It was stab-proof, projectile resistant, and largely impervious to any form of chemical attack. It was also Aura sensitive, which meant that channeling enough Aura through it would render it capable of withstanding heavy weaponry, up to and including artillery.

In other words, it was exorbitantly expensive.

Lightning couldn't bring herself to care. Who gave a shit about a shirt when Fang was looking at her like that? Besides, she could always use Saviour later to fix it. What was the point of having one of the most stupidly overpowered Semblances in the world if she couldn't indulge now and then?

Lightning's bra soon followed, and it wasn't long before the rest of her clothing was in tatters on the floor too. Fang had always had a penchant for destroying her clothing, not that Lightning minded. As easy-going as Fang could seem, she was every bit as possessive as Lightning was.

Eyes practically glowing, Fang used strips of Lightning's ruined clothing to tie her hands above her head. The makeshift bonds wouldn't do a damn thing if Lightning actually wanted to get free, but there was something incredibly alluring about putting herself at Fang's mercy even if her helplessness was completely illusory.

"Do you remember what we said to each other when we first met?" Fang growled. She was in constant motion now, touching and tasting with almost manic hunger.

Lightning's back arched, and she lifted her hips to give Fang better access. "You need to stop talking," she said. Her vision blurred for a moment as Fang settled between her thighs and found that perfect spot...

In the depths of her mind, Saviour asked her if she wanted to suppress all emotional and physical stimuli. Her Semblance wasn't serious. Saviour knew exactly what they were doing and how much Lightning had been looking forward to it, but her Semblance just couldn't resist the urge to troll her.

Lightning made a mental note to berate her Semblance later before shoving the thought away. No suppression of any kind. She wanted to feel everything. Her vision was already beginning to tunnel as two weeks of Fang-related withdrawal was swept aside in a haze of pleasure so heady it was a miracle she could think at all.

And then Fang did that, and Lightning came undone.

She might have cried out. No. She did cry out.

Thank Dust she and Fang had both had the foresight to layer the room in privacy measures.

It went on and on, and Lightning was vaguely aware of Fang's low rumble of amusement. Let Fang be amused. Lightning was having the time of her life. She rode out her climax with hardly a care in the world, even as Saviour noted, with no small measure of amusement, that the force she was exerting with her legs would have killed just about anyone who wasn't Fang.

Eventually, Lightning's body went limp.

She opened her eyes. When had she even closed them? And found herself staring up at the ceiling. A second later, familiar green eyes filled with mirth appeared above her.

"So..." Fang drawled, licking her lips. "How'd I do?"

"Idiot." Lightning gave her a half-hearted punch. "I give you a one."

"A one?" Fang snorted inelegantly.

"Yes, a one. Do that again, and I'll upgrade it to a two."

"Ah." Fang rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "So I have to screw your brains out another nine more times, huh?"

"At least." Lightning wiggled her arms, and Fang rolled her eyes before untying the tattered clothing. "Thank you."

"As if you couldn't break free yourself."

"That's not the point." Lightning sighed contentedly as Fang wrapped her arms around her. They weren't close to done, but some of the manic edge had been taken off their desire. "I'm your wife. You need to pamper me."

"I could say the same," Fang replied.

Lightning stretched, loving the way her body felt against Fang's. "About what you said earlier... if I recall correctly, you called me a frigid bitch when we first met."

Fang's eyes twinkled. "And you called me a stupid asshole."

"And here we are." Lightning's lips twitched. "Still think I'm frigid?"

"Well..." Fang grinned as Lightning bonked her over the head. "Still think I'm stupid?"

"Well..." Lightning laughed as Fang rolled on top of her.

"So..." Fang looked down at Lightning.

"So...?"

Fang smirked. "Ready to go again?"

X X X

Author's Notes

The Lightning-Fang betting pool that started shortly after Team LFSC formed resulted in one of the biggest payouts of Vanille's life. Nobody else thought it could happen, and neither did Vanilla. But she mis-clicked while placing another bet and decided to just leave it because she found the idea of Lightning and Fang getting together funny since they spent most of their time trying to murder each other. Lucky Fox once again came through for her.

If you're wondering where the kids are, Serah invited them next door, so they could play with Claire for a few days. Little sister with the clutch manoeuvre.

A few days.

Yeah.

[kordifm]

Dragons Rising S1 No Spoiler Review

Dragons Rising was truly amazing. For context, my brother and I stayed up until 2 am to binge-watch the season after I got home from classes for the day. We initially wanted to split the season in half for our watch through, but every episode, we found ourselves drawn in by the lore and the world building and all the silly little funny moments in between that could just exist because of the 20 20-minute episodes.

The opportunity to watch a season that isn’t capped at a short runtime due to corporate meddling is honestly a dream come true for Ninjago fans. The season felt so full and well-rounded, and I felt like the writers really were able to get everything they wanted in to the season. Obviously not every idea makes the final draft for any piece of creative work, but this one felt so much less bare bones than the previous seasons as far as time goes.

But my favorite part is the character development, hands down. I was so on the fence about Arin and Sora when the trailer first came out, not because I didn’t want to like them; but because I was afraid that they would seem too much like next-gen replacements in comparison to the OG ninja. Boy, was I wrong. They felt so real as characters and were absolutely written beyond my expectations.

Arin is such a pure cinnamon roll who looks up to the ninja and then gets to be one in his own right. He has this air of humility, always wanting to do what’s right as he learns what it takes to be a hero. And he just loves his new family all the while maintaining his hopes for seeing his parents again one day.

And Sora…well, I could write paragraphs about her character development. She honestly reminded me of myself in quite a few ways, so seeing her grow from being very non-involved and on the run from Imperium to conquering her initial doubts about the ninja and her own insecurities was such a treat to watch. She’s a character that is cynical about the world in many senses, but her heart is open to her new family and later in the season, herself and who she wants to be.

Needless to say, I loved them both, and I can’t wait to see where their stories go from here.

Alright, I have to talk about the OG ninja. Gone are the days when they are sidelined to be comic relief. Each episode had a very accurate picture of who they are as mentors and young adults (I will never get over Lloyd calling Arin and Sora “teens,” thereby distancing the OG ninja from that label). I love how Lloyd, Nya, and Kai get to be guides for Arin, Sora, and Wyldfire; albeit in their own ways. I could also spend an exorbitantly long amount of time on this topic, but the highlight for me is that they all had a different answer when their apprentice, if you will, asked them “Is that a Master Wu saying?”

I won’t write about the other three ninja at length here because I want to keep this non-spoilery, but I will say it’s great to see everyone once again, even for a little bit.

My brother likened the original Ninjago being a circle, and this season being the outer circle. We get to take a step back and see a bigger picture of the world and the characters, and we’re not even done yet. I want to make a list of all the open-ended questions that the season left us with because I am totally hyped up here. And of course, credits to everyone who worked on this project. I cannot wait to see what comes next.

[ajstaria]

"The snow is much much more beautiful at night, aren't they?"

The much older male knew nothing that he could say about the snow matters at the moment, if this was happenings years ago, he would actualy be interested on what she was talking about.

He hummed and agreed, trying not to get too stuck with the words the woman was saying for he was so focused on her voice.

her voice that he would never hear again.

"Can you hold me?" She mumbled quietly, her droopy eyes and her darking sight was proof of how tired she was.

"You've never ever been this clingy before." He chuckled, he doesn't know how he could chuckle at a time like this. He lets her be clingy, for one last time.

and she would never ever be clingy again, after tonight.

He holds her in his embrace, pressing her face up against his neck. They both almost look like a mother carrying her baby for the first last time.

She continues to make conversation with the man and her self, "I only realised how gorgeous life is, it's so short even if it's the longest thing a human could ever experience. Every good thing that happened makes me feel like life is so short, and every bad thing makes me think that life is too long," she presses her nose to the older mans neck even further, wanting to imprint his scent on to her mind for the rest of her life, even if its just for a short time.

"If everytime i was with you was just a figment of my imagination, then im so fucking thankful that you're the one person i could ever conjure up. Every moment with you was a phantasmagoria of joy and realization."

He tried holding his breath in, trying to match his breathing pattern with hers. When she finally inhaled, he copied her at the same time. But she spoke four words that would ruin him exorbitantly, "Thank you, my dearest." And for once and for all, she sighs thickly with content.

Only one of them breathed out in peace, the other was still holding their breath in, because they were trying to focus on the others last breath.

And did he for sure feel it on his neck.