#that line 'maybe after you get to live the life you want'

[jjenthusee]

Where We Are

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: honestly this has been marinating in my mind for a while because a while ago I saw @sunnie-angel post this small writing (linked here) and I wanted to write something for it, but I haven’t gotten to sit down and complete something :( BUT i finally sat down and wrote because i needed something as a break from my end of semester stress from school :D i would also recommend reading the linked post first so it gives some context and insight to why i was so drawn to it and how it heavily inspired this fic. ENJOY and like, comment if your comfortable 💐

Summary: How do you live with the memories of Jason after his death as Robin?

Tags: AAAANGST, have a nice day :)

Word Count: 1.6k

A boy.

Full of so much life and raw emotion, who stood against the worst of Gotham.

He saw so much of its poison. It struck him, filled his veins, but he fought every day against the pain. Only when he finally left did Gotham return its thanks.

Everyday was torture. The memorials, the photographs, the graffiti. Streets littered with “We remember you.” Every waking second was a reminder that he was gone.

No more late night chats, meeting at the library, leaning against his shoulder.

You can still taste the bile that consumed your throat when you opened your door to Alfred standing there with the most chilling expression. Once he said your name in such a matter-of-fact tone, you knew. Your heart ached the same way it did when your thoughts brought you back to your worst fears, maybe it ached worse but that memory is buried in the back of your mind.

You slammed the door on Alfred. Grabbing your phone, calling one of the most recent phone numbers in your call history. It rang and rang. Nothing.

You left voicemail after voicemail. Begging, yelling, crying into the ending message to pick up.

You couldn’t walk down the road that led to the same library you spent all summer with him. The humid air beating down on you before the air conditioning sent a chill down your back. Scanning your library cards, returning books, letting Jason give you recommendations.

The memory made your eyes water.

You did everything to avoid it all.

Taking the longer path to school, playing music in your ears loud enough to drown out the passerby’s conversations about how tragic such a thing could happen to a young boy, avoiding any sort of color that matched the suit he was so proud of.

The same one that took him.

The more you avoided, the more the image of him chased you. Billboards, coffee cups, baseball caps. Robin was everywhere.

Until you saw a memorial video that some Gothamite made on social media.

It broke you one more time.

You screamed and screamed until your voice couldn’t. He was gone. Your Jason was truly gone.

You couldn’t get mad at him cheating at board games, you wouldn’t hear his laugh, no more asking him to drop off food while he was on patrol.

The world took the other half that completed you.

When the pain numbed out and you felt the guilt of your actions, you apologized to Alfred. You got back on track for school, the world wasn’t better, but it didn’t weigh on you as much.

You finally took a walk down the road you didn’t dare look down. You held your breath when you crossed over the invisible line, taking you down a familiar path, but with only one pair of shoes on the sidewalk this time.

You walked with your hands clenched, before you found yourself in front of one of the small memorial stands. A tiny Robin keychain stared back at you. You paid the seller with cash and continued on your walk.

The air hung heavy in your lungs as you stopped. Coming face to face with Jason’s favorite gargoyle that sat in front of the library steps. You fought the tears with lowered eyebrows and a stiff expression to place the key chain on the base of the statue. You grabbed a permanent marker out of your bag to write in big bold letters, “We Remember You.”

It was sloppy writing, but it captured your unrelenting, unapologetic emotions that Jason had always told you was why he loved being your friend.

As the weeks went by, more tiny Robins appeared on the gargoyle. Flowers were placed and you finally listened to the city mourn your friend.

Eventually you graduated, took a job at the library because you didn’t know anything about your future into being a young adult. Life was simple, it was enough.

You finally felt some stability on the anniversary of Jason’s death before you heard talk of a new Robin. That a replacement had been made.

You were at a rage again.

When times were too tough or when you just didn’t know how to handle yourself, you called Jason’s phone. Leaving voicemails admitting how much you missed him, how mad you were that he couldn’t even wait until you were able to beat how many books he checked out at the library, now it wasn’t fair to continue the competition by yourself. How mad you were that they didn’t retire the Robin suit after he sacrificed everything for it.

You didn’t even question how his phone line was still running as long as you could leave more voicemails.

When your rage started to cool, you joined Alfred one morning while the cold air chilled your face. Alfred handed you a hot tea that you refused to take, but Alfred always managed to get his way. It brought a smile to your face when you realized Jason used to do the same thing.

You walked with him down your familiar path to work. Before Alfred could say anything, your body unconsciously walked up to a new park bench. It wasn’t worn, but freshly placed with a shiny plaque that you couldn’t move your eyes from.

“In memory of Jason Todd-Wayne, a son who is loved as much as he loved books.” You quietly read.

You couldn’t move. You didn’t say anything to Alfred as he handed you a handkerchief when you felt the tears drop down your chin. The two of you just stood there, admiring the wood, the brass, and the memories.

When Alfred said his goodbyes, you stayed there. Afraid to sit down, but afraid to leave.

You spent the following anniversary standing next to the bench, next to the one place that was so precious to your childhood. The fear prevented you from taking a seat.

By the next anniversary, you managed to sit on the bench. Alfred visited again, shining the plaque and wiping down the park bench. You didn’t say much, but it was comfortable and breathing wasn’t that difficult that year.

By the most recent anniversary, you were starting to spend every important milestone at Jason’s bench. When you got your degree in library science, you sat with your cap and gown. When you got a job promotion at the library, you came to sit and watch the sunset.

Life was content as you passed Jason’s bench and gargoyle on your way to and from work. It was a part of you.

One late night as you locked up the library, making sure all the part-timers and volunteers made their way out safely and secured the doors, you said goodbye to your coworkers as you made your way down the worn steps.

Your feet ached from the new shoes that didn’t support you enough, but your walk back to your apartment would be short to endure the pain. The fatigue could wait until you walked through the front door.

You trudged through the familiar path, passing the same trees, shops, gargoyle. Fifteen paces, another thirty, but you couldn’t continue to count your steps when you saw someone facing Jason’s bench.

A tall man, large build, covered in a large hoodie with the hood raised. Only a couple strands of hair stuck out the opening, but you couldn’t see a clear face.

It was eerie how still the figure was, the small fog of breaths were the only indicator that the person was living.

You quickly moved to the edge of the sidewalk as you distanced yourself from the large man. You held your breath as you briskly walked passed, but a small ache hit your chest. A tiny feeling, so minuscule that you tried to talk yourself into not looking back.

Why would you do that late at night in Gotham?

Two paces, five paces. You paused and turned your head over your shoulder.

They were gone. Only a clear yellow street light shining down on Jason’s bench.

Weird.

But you weren’t going to find out what that was. You paced back to your apartment, throwing your jacket off, letting your aching muscles relax on the couch. You sighed as you couldn’t get the figure out of your head.

By the morning, you woke up early to get some breakfast on your way to work. A quick drink and some food to help give you some energy. You said ‘Good morning’ to the owners, passed by other early commuters.

You held your warm drink, breathing in morning air and taking your breakfast to-go, until you sat at Jason’s bench. It had been a while since you got to enjoy a meal there.

You sat, listening to the birds, seeing morning joggers pass, kids making their way to school, and you finished your meal. You got up to throw your trash away and took one last glance at the plaque.

You memorized the phrase engraved on there, but still took the time to read through every word. You took your hand out of your warm jacket pocket and felt your hand graze over the cold brass, your fingers feeling the grooves and the strict maintenance courtesy of Alfred.

In one last sigh, you turned to get to work, tapping the base of the gargoyle before the steps, happily humming to the calm start to your morning. Then another ache hit you just before your last step.

You turned around, but all the people hanging around the block were further away, enjoying the company of others or taking a stroll. You glanced around, unsure of what you were looking for.

But your search was interrupted by the cheerful voice of your coworker making his way up the steps.

You pushed down the feeling of the unknown, but some days you always felt like maybe Jason was with you, maybe from his bench built in his memory or the fact that this place was important to the two of you, but you always knew you were going to carry a portion of Jason with you.

In some comforting way, you told yourself that maybe your Jason never left.

[leoleolovesdc]

Stephanie (at least throught the 90s-00s) had a very discernible violent streak and morals that don’t really line up with tim and the other bats around her. This is kinda lost on modern comics, either because of how much she’s being sidelined or as an attempt to soften her character and make her more likeable, but i genuinely think it was a interesting part to her characer that we should bring back.

Steph is sort of angry and reckless, she became spoiler without any training because she needed to get her father out of her and her mother’s life permanently, and she didn’t care for the implications of what she had to do to get there.

In her debut, you can see how desperate and impatient she is, she was tired of all the harm arthur caused to her family and of the helplessness of never being able to do something about it. It’s just a lot of bottled up anger you can tell she’s been struggling with for years, so when she finally finds a way to channel it onto something good (you can argue on how much good beating up criminals would really do, but this is from steph’s pov) it immediately leads up to her being ready to murder her father on the first opportunity she gets.

And even after bruce convinces stephanie to Not Kill Him, she still expresses multiple times how she doesn’t care for men like her father and saving them is a waste of her time. She is usually pretty willing to let “bad” people die because, as she sees it, their lives aren’t more important then the ones they ruined.

I wouldn’t say steph has very “strong” opinions on murder like jason, for example, does, but she definetly has a detachment to bruce, cass and tim’s morals that end up pushing her into a place of distrust with all of them at some point or another. She is willing to adapt to what her teammates (on the occasions where she did get to feel like a part of a team) expect of her in a mission because she values their opinion of her and wants to receive proper support and training, but it doesn’t make her dislike the kind of people who’s lives she is told to care about any less.

In the short time steph had as robin that trend of loose morals in comparison to the bats really continues, like in that one story where a guy she hit recklessly doesn’t die by pure luck and when bruce is scolding her about it she just goes “he was a serial killer, so really, why should i even care?”, or when she has that talk with batgirl after having to be stopped from beating the shit out of the penguin and ponders a bit about “when does it end? Am i really that wrong for wishing we could just take guys like this out of our lives?”.

It’s a very noticeable highlight on this aspect of stephanie right near the end, and it builds up to when she is fighting fo her life against black mask and finally manages to get the upperhand. It’s not the first time she has someone’s life on her hands but it is the first time she hesitates, maybe because the stakes are higher now, but mainly it’s just because of how guilty she feels for the gang war, for fucking it up with batman and for orpheus’ death. When she lets black mask live it’s not because she thinks it’s the right thing or because she doesn’t want to blow his brains out, it’s out of respect for bruce, because she feels like she already ruined everything, she should have known better and she owes him something, so she does what batman would do. And then that gets her killed.

So, let’s be real, why should i think that after all of this, after her father ruined her mother’s life, after she watched hundreds of children get killed and traumatized by monsters like the penguin, after the one time she tries to follow the damn code it kills her, should she have any notion that murdering is wrong if when she’s looking back on it, killing a bitch would have solved all of her problems from day one?

Being a Stephanie Brown fan is so annoying sometimes because you read about this child consistently trying to commit murder since her literal debut just for some random writer and those “batboys” mfs go around saying that she thinks murder is wrong

[gravestrain]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

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

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[satanghulu]

take what’s yours

✦ PAIRING: solomon/mammon ✦ SUMMARY: The four times Mammon “rejects” a gift and the one time he accepts them. or alternatively: Mammon is a loser and in denial about his feelings. ✦ WARNING: fluff, huge denial on mammon’s part (I mean come on, what did you expect?), solomon is a HUGE tease freak, explicit language   ✦ WC: 4.3K

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WATCH: traitor - Olivia Rodrigo

He stares at the outstretched hand, blinking in loud confusion.

“What’s this?” The suspicion in Mammon’s voice was enough to render one speechless but Solomon was nothing if not special.

“This is for you.” He says, taking delight in the way the white-haired demon’s eyebrows shoot up into the depth of his hair. It was a charming sight, and Solomon will keep it in the depths of his head.

For the first time in Mammon’s life, he’s been rendered speechless.

It’s more like his brain had shut down at the sight of the watch he so badly wanted. The shine, the craftsmanship, the way it glittered in the lights. He wouldn’t admit it but he was freaking out.

“W-wha-” He managed to sputter out, not knowing if he should take a step forward to take a closer look at the watch or take a step back because Solomon is a freak. Like, who the hell would get a luxury watch for someone they weren’t close with?

“You posted it on Devilgram a week back,” Solomon says nonchalantly as if it was the normal thing in the world.

The demon nodded, carried away by the luster of his voice. Suddenly smacked by the reality of the situation, Mammon shook his head profusely to the point where his sunglasses almost flew off.

The radiance of the watch was calling to him but there is no way he is going to accept a gift from this shady ass sorcerer. For all he knew, he could have planted a curse on the watch – maybe he was secretly waiting for Mammon to touch the watch which would transform him into a beetle and then he would trap him in an airtight bottle and then—

Yeah, no way he was accepting it.

Though, he did dream about the watch the night before. No matter how he tried to turn his head away, his feet were rooted to the ground and the cloud of Greed seemed to be calling, no, clamouring for him to take what was his.

Brring!

A sharp ringtone cut through the stifling air. The gaze that Solomon was pinning him down with, felt hot as if it was burning lasers onto his skin. Though, Mammon knew it wasn’t tangible and impossible to do so.

He picks up the phone instead.

“Where are you?” It was his younger brother on the line, voice prickly and irritable as usual.

“RAD.” He replied, still squinting at the outstretched hand holding the next potential love of his life. (Goldie would still be first but this would be a tough fight for the crown.)

“Get your ass back, we’re on cooking duty today.” With a hiss, the call ends abruptly.

Mammon frowns, staring at the lock screen which coincidentally was a product picture of the watch. His younger brother should really treat him with more respect – he was the second oldest after all.

“Ah, you have to get back home.” With a flourish, the sorcerer pockets the watch and gestured for him to go on ahead.

As always, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“I’ll get ya’ back.” He said, totally not shouting with his clenched fist pointing at Solomon. From today onwards, the sorcerer had become his nemesis. So what if Solomon had won the auction and gotten the watch? He didn’t have to flaunt it in front of him, did he?

No, he wasn’t jealous. He definitely wasn’t bemoaning the fact that the antique watch he had been eyeing had been bought by the sham of a sorcerer in front of him. He did see the listing being taken down a couple of days ago but he thought it was just a website error.

The white-haired sorcerer just lets out a chuckle.

“Sure, looking forward to it.”

Mammon totally didn’t feel his traitor of a heart skip a beat at the sound of it. It was just a moment of weakness, he told himself.

BAND: time of our lives - DAY6

Solomon cornered him a whole week after the initial interaction, looking intimidatingly handsome. (Mammon was not keeping count of the days, nor was he looking out at every corner he rounded. He just didn’t want to see that stupid sorcerer.)

“Hello.” The man says, looking infuriatingly put-together whereas Mammon felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. “I’m glad to have finally caught you today.”

“Y-ya’ what?” His voice came choked out, as he half-yells at his face. Solomon was nice enough not to mention the sprinkle of saliva as he courteously wiped at his face, all while keeping eye contact with him.

Solomon stares at him. “Yeah, it seemed like you were avoiding me this week.”

“Eek!” Mammon says before immediately choking on his own spit. The sorcerer just waits for him to catch his breath, a mirthful look on his face.

“I wasn’t.” He replied through gritted teeth, decidedly avoiding eye contact with the exchange student in front of him. “I wasn’t.” He affirmed once again, the urge to turn tail and run growing stronger.

“You weren’t?” Solomon takes a step closer, the clack of his dress shoes sounding unimaginably loud. “Strange. I swore I called out your name yesterday but you pushed Satan ahead and ran away.”

Mammon yelps again.

“Anyways, we can put that behind us.” Interestingly, the sorcerer whipped out two pieces of paper from the depths of his pocket. Mammon wonders if his pockets are enchanted because it seems that he never ran out of things to pull out.

“Tada.” Upon closer look, it looked like tickets to a concert though the fine print was a tad too small for him to read. And it also appeared that Solomon had been waiting for a reaction from him.

“Uh…” He pushes the tickets into Mammon’s hands, giving him a smile that makes his eyes crinkle up. All Mammon could do was stare at him with his mouth agape as the sorcerer lifted up a hand to pat him on the head.

“I’m leaving now. Have fun.” That was all he said before he left, the click-clack of his shoes getting on his nerves. Embarrassingly, his knees went weak and he slid to the floor despite his attempt to stand straight.

What the fuck?

His sunglasses slid off the apex of his nose bridge. He looked down at the tickets, now crushed in his clenched fists. They were tickets to a band that was playing this weekend. Mammon had been a long-time fan of them, even having a couple of merchandise plastered in his room.

He had tried ticketing for the concert when they released the tickets but had eventually failed. (His credit card had failed on the checkout page, the balance being a dollar short. By the time he had Lucifer’s card in hand, it was sold out.)

Though, how did Solomon know that he was a fan of them?

AMUSEMENT PARK: despair - leo.

Mammon couldn’t fathom how he got into this situation.

The stupid-looking lizard on Solomon’s head was pissing him off even more. He felt like reaching up and pulling that idiotic tongue hanging out from the lizard’s mouth.

“Should we take a photo together?” The man behind his current complication asked.

Before he could even utter a word, Solomon had already stopped a passerby to get them to take a photo for them. Mammon could only silently grate his teeth and plastered on a smile that probably seemed closer to a grimace.

“Aw, both of you are so cute.” The passerby commented, handing back the D.D.D to the sorcerer. “Is that the zombie iguana matching headbands?”

“Yes, it is.” Solomon quickly replies, grabbing onto Mammon’s arm which was starting to flail about in protest. Mammon shoots the sorcerer the dirtiest stink eye he could muster but keeps his mouth shut. “Thank you and I hope you have a great time too.”

An elbow to Mammon’s side and a whispered smile! made him turn to the stranger with a forced grin and pleasantries. He honestly couldn’t be bothered to even talk to them but the counterfeit of a sorcerer was forcing him to.

If memory serves him right, hadn’t Solomon once used his magic to make his D.D.D. float and take a picture?

Well, it wasn’t like Mammon had any right to complain right now. Before he could continue arguing with himself in his head, Solomon tapped him on the shoulder.

“Should we try that one out?”

Following Solomon’s finger, his eyes landed on the inordinately typical claw machine. It was blasting some typical pop music that he hears every day from Asmo’s room during his morning routine.

“...Fine.”

As much as he wanted to say no, the sorcerer’s gaze was becoming too burdensome to look at. The brown hues in his eyes seemed to stand out under the horrendous lighting of the carnival. Mammon couldn’t believe it. How could one still look so handsome against this shitty background with dreadful lights?

Subconsciously, he furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that even he would look good in this set-up. And he was a model, on the front page of Devil’s Style too!

“I got it.”

“Huh?” He hadn’t even noticed that he was looking at Solomon’s hands which were wrapped around the knob of the claw machine. Dazed, Mammon shook his head trying to clear his thoughts.

“For you.”

Solomon pushes the grey blob that vaguely resembles a ball into his arms. Curious, he lifted it up against the lights and squinted closely at it.

“It reminded me of you.”

???

 It seemed to be an animal from the human world. The stocky animal with a black mask was getting on his nerves with its mischievous expression. For some odd reason, he felt like he was being taunted.

“HUH, whadda did ya’ mean-” He snapped, eyes flying up to meet the dumb grin on his face.

“It’s cute like you.”

He felt his jaw unhinged from where it was supposed to be. His arms had a mind of their own and he almost flung the stuffed toy across the area. His face felt hot and now, he was absolutely sure the awful sorcerer was doing it to get under his skin.

“You little-” 

“Thank you for making time today. This was sufficient repayment for bringing someone else to the concert.” Solomon says, cutting him again.

Mammon opens his mouth to complain but decides against it. Even he knew he was wrong in bringing Asmo to the concert but how would he have known that the two tickets were supposedly meant for Solomon as well?!

“Well, do me a favour and let me know why did we have to come to this place?”

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking the burning question that had been plaguing him ever since the white-haired human had told him to meet at the entrance of HOL.

“Asmo told me it’s a great spot for a date.”

This time, Mammon just stared straight at him, mouth parted again. Can living for too long mess with one’s mind? 

He and his brothers are fine, but maybe a human might be affected differently. Though, it did look more likely that the sorcerer just had a screw loose in his head.

“We’re on a date?”

“We’re not?”

Mammon emphatically does not answer back, inhaling a soft intake of breath.

Yeah, humans are just weird like that. He chanted to himself, trying hard to disregard the fact that he was still tightly clutching onto the gifted plushie.

MATCHING KEYCHAINS: so american - Olivia Rodrigo

He was starting to get concerned at how often he had been running into Solomon these days.

“Uh… what are you doing here?”

Mammon peers at the white-haired sorcerer who is waiting patiently on the doorstep of HOL. The sorcerer rummages through his pocket before bringing out a single stalk of flower — a bright garish yellow that honestly kind of hurt his eyes.

“For you.”

He nonchalantly hands the stalk of flower over, taking advantage of Mammon’s confusion to make his way into the house.

Oh hell, Lucifer is going to have a fit. Mammon faintly thinks, fingers clenched tightly over the stalk. Now that he had a closer look, it seemed like the petals were faintly sparkling with gold iridescent glitters.

“I tried my hands at growing flowers for a spell,” Solomon said casually, shrugging off his overcoat. He watches as the sorcerer folds it neatly to hang it over his arm before turning to face him.

“Lucifer has been asking me to head up into the human world to collect something.” Mammon tries hard not to stare at the way his shoulders roll in the tight-fitting shirt. “I was hoping you would be free to accompany me?”

His mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.

“Yes?” He finally says, still managing to embarrass himself. Mammon wishes he could come up with something cooler to say. The white-haired sorcerer flashes him a smile before taking a couple of steps to grab his arm.

“I am the magician Solomon... Heed my words!” As Solomon finishes his incarnation, his vision begins to spin. Suddenly aware, Mammon grips onto the sorcerer’s arm tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. His mouth opens and before he could let out a shout–

In that split second, he was already out in a grimy alleyway, the flickering lights casting shadows on the ground. He waits for his heart to slow down, looking at the puddle of water on the ground. He was never going to try teleportation again. It felt like he had been punched in the guts.

“Ah, it looked like it rained,” Solomon says, chin lifted high up to look at the dull sky. Mammon quickly lets go of the sorcerer’s arm, patting down his jacket which had become wrinkled during the short journey.

“What do you need to do?” He asked, rolling his tongue over his teeth. The air tastes crisp, with a tart tinge to it.

“Found it.” Solomon spotted something in the corner of his vision and walked over to pick it up. “Wanna walk around for a bit?”

The sorcerer muttered a spell under his breath and the once-huge box had shrunken down into a miniature square that could fit in the middle of his palm. It was done in such a flashy way that even Mammon couldn’t muster up any words (at how cool it was).

“Ya know my time costs money, right?” Mammon shrugs, evidently trying not to think of the implication behind it. The crushed flower stalk was still in his hands and he quickly shoved it into the depths of his pockets. “Count your lucky stars. For today, I will make it free.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to afford it.”

He ignores the words, walking out of the alleyway into a bustling street. The sorcerer falls into step beside him, a quiet silence taking over.

“Should we go here?”

Mammon shoots a sidelong look at him before turning to take in the eerie signboard that was hanging on by a thread. “Here?”

“Yeah, doesn’t it look fun?” The sorcerer’s eyes were bright and twinkling with a sort of madness. The demon turns to stare at the dreary storefront that sends a chill down his bones. Even a demon knew better than to mess with a store like this but alas, Solomon the Wise Sorcerer, had already made his way into the shop.

“Are you gonna get something here?” Mammon half-whispers at the sorcerer, who is humming a delightful tune that he recognises as the soundtrack from the third installment of TSL.

The demon sticks close to the sorcerer, looking around cautiously. When the sorcerer stops in his tracks, Mammon almost runs into him. He stuck his hands out just in time, trying hard not to lock eyes with the shopkeeper’s cat.

“Isn’t this cute?”

Mammon barely notices the keyring on Solomon’s fingers before giving an affirmative hum. He was far too focused on keeping tabs on the tiny black cat which had been baring its teeth. The cat had been staring at him ever since he walked into the shop and it was giving him the creeps.

“Are you having a staring contest with the cat?” 

An amused voice broke his concentration, leading him to frantically shake his head. From his peripheral, the cat stretches and yawns before slinking away. Somehow, it felt like Mammon had lost the fight.

Solomon gestured for him to sit on the bench located at the side of the store. Curiously, Mammon followed in his footsteps noting that the sorcerer kept his hands in his pocket the entire way.

Once settled, he tilts his head at the demon as if he were a cat, ready to pounce at his prey. The flash of the keychain glittered under the dim lights.

“I got this for you.”

It was a tiny metallic crow keychain. “Not taking it? That’s unlike you, Avatar of Greed.” Solomon cocks an eyebrow at him, playfully swinging the keychain back and forth.

He snatches the item from him, dimly noting that it looked similar to his own familiars — the three-legged crows are a rare commodity in the human world, yet there was one right in front of him. Even he was starting to get suspicious of how much information the human knew about him.

“I have the same one too.”

He was sure a strangled noise came out of his throat when he realised that the matching keychain was attached to the edge of the D.D.D. that Solomon was holding up.

“What are you doing?” He chose to ignore the burning sensation that flared across his entire face as his fingers flexed around the keychain. It was a small thing, the way he noticed Solomon’s quirk on his lips or the way he thought Solomon looked good in the low light.

“What do you mean?” The irritating fraud of a human asked back, the curve of his lips stretching impossibly wide.

He didn’t know if he wanted to smack it off or kiss it off his face.

“What is all of this supposed to mean?” His voice was starting to border on a shout, and he couldn’t help but notice that they were having this conversation in a dingy store.

This was not where he wanted to have this conversation, he thinks while furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’ve thought that I’ve made it clear?” This time, Solomon crosses his arms as he purses his lips. “I’m trying to court you. Isn’t this what demons do?” 

His stomach goes sour at the statement. Everything suddenly starts to burn — his face to the bottom of his toes, as he tries to swallow his saliva.

“W-we do this?” The words start tumbling out without his approval, snowballing into a bigger problem. Mammon always had difficulty stopping his words once they started. “You like me?” 

There, he said it.

The human paused and looked at him with such a soft look that he felt his insides twist.

“Yes.” He laughs, light and airy. “Mammon, I’ve been trying all this while.” He whispers, and Mammon is suddenly painfully aware of his growing heartbeat, getting faster by the second.

NECKLACE: i wanna be your boyfriend - hot freaks

“Should we head out?”

Solomon rises to his feet, sticking out a hand for Mammon to grab. He gives him a smile, murky in the emotion it was supposed to convey. Confronted with all the facts on the table, the demon doesn’t know how to respond.

The sorcerer’s shoulder rises and falls.

Before he could drop his hand, Mammon reaches out to snatch it. He propels all the way to the door, the cheery ringing of the doorbell sending them on their merry way. Solomon throws out a goodbye! to the shopkeeper (or the cat, he doesn’t know) as he stumbles along.

The white-haired demon continues to walk ahead, dragging Solomon slowly by the arm.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

He doesn’t. But Mammon would rather let the Devildom freeze over before he would open his mouth and tell him that.

“Head to the right, there should be a park there.” Pointedly, he steers the direction to the left. Behind him, the sorcerer lets out a fond exasperated laugh. “Oh you’re right, I think it was to the left.”

The park soon came into view. Relieved, he tried to loosen his grip on the sorcerer’s arm but the accompanying squeeze stopped him. He chanced a glance back and Solomon shook his head. Mammon could feel a hot flush on his face.

“Let’s stop here,” Solomon calls out gently, coming to a stop.

Mammon pauses in his tracks.

“Are ya’ for real?” He starts, narrowing his eyes at the other party like he couldn’t believe he was actually here, in the flesh. “Like you ain’t jokin’ or something?”

“I thought I had already made myself clear enough.” Was the only response that the white-haired human deigned to bestow upon him. He stands there with a pleased smile like a cat that got the cream.

Maybe he was really being genuine in his affection.

“If I find out you’re jokin’ or something–”

“I assure you, I am definitely not.” Solomon stops and stares at him, eyes wider than usual. More predatory than usual. It made Mammon uneasy. “Look, I thought demon culture was all about making the initiative to gift something first.”

“What?” Mammon cranes his neck further, whipping to fix him with an unimpressed look. He had heard about this in passing. “Isn’t that only for royalty or something?”

“Asmo said you would like it.” The sorcerer remarked, timbre distinct in a way that scratches Mammon’s brain just right. “You don’t like the presents?”

“No!” Mammon gnaws on his lips as he stops himself mid-sentence. He seemed to come to a terrible realisation by himself, scratching at his head. 

“I like it.” He replied with a horrified expression, face twisted into an expression of disgust. “What in the actual hell?”

The sorcerer nods at him encouragingly like he is playing along with a toddler. “Uh-huh, continue.”

“What the fuck? Does this mean I like you?” The demon’s face was still pinched but he seemed less startled now. The sorcerer slaps his hand onto Mammon’s right thigh and peers at him, giving him that weird toothy grin that makes his heart race.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Mammon felt cold and nauseous all at once. There was a moment of silence as the sorcerer leaned back to wait. Surprisingly, Mammon doesn’t feel too opposed to the idea of being courted by him.

Huh.

He thinks for a second, lost in his thoughts. He turns the proposal once more over in his head and realises he really won’t mind. And that does something funny to his stomach. 

“I have something for you.”

Lost in his thoughts, he barely notices when the sorcerer’s fingers trace their way up to find his to lace them together. He rummages through his pocket to pull out the box that Mammon recognises as the delivery he was supposed to hand off to the firstborn. 

“I pulled some strings with Lucifer’s connections to get this.” He brings out a tinier square box, before shoving the original item back into his pocket. He pushes Mammon’s palm open, placing the square box into his palm.

“What’s this?” The demon just raises his hand, lifting it up to eye level to examine it closer. It was miniature, shaking in the light wind breeze.

“By the will of the sorcerer Solomon, let this box return to how it was before." The low whisper made Mammon shiver. He watches in amazement as the box shakes before restoring to its original size.

The box opens with a flourish, the gleam of the gold-plated chain catching in the sunlight. It was heavy and the authentication card for the necklace stared back at him. The shadow of Greed looms over him and he takes in a shaky inhale, leg tapping on the ground rapidly.

“Ta-da!” The sorcerer says with a cheer.

He swallows, the space in the back of his throat dry. He holds onto the box, letting the emotion settle into his heart like honey. He fights it down.

“For me?” He croaks, voice stuck like gum that had dried up in the sun. Solomon nods, bringing the necklace out of the box.

It was a dainty thing. Diamond-shaped and gold, just the way he liked it.

“Wear it for me?”

Mammon nods, turning around to let him clasp it. He stares at the yellow ducklings in the far distance, trying not to think too much about the way his skin tingles whenever Solomon touches him.

“Pretty.”

“W-what?” Mammon is baffled at his silver tongue, face red all over again. There was a snort coming from the sorcerer. “Ya’ can’t just say that! You have to take responsibility!”

“I am trying to.” Solomon lets out a laugh, leaning into his space. Mammon wonders how long it would take to get used to him. It was irritating that he was still so flustered. “Are you free tomorrow so that I can finally take you out on a proper date?”

“Ya’ gotta know the Great Mammon is very busy!” He starts, mentally checking his schedule for the next day. “But you’ll be glad to know that he has time to spare after RAD–”

“What? Don’t laugh at me!” He growls at the sorcerer, who is now uncontainably laughing while clutching his stomach.

“N-no, you’re just so cute.” He finally barks out, wiping away a tear. He straightens up, shoulders hunched as he breathes out a sigh of relief. “And I’m just so happy you said yes.” 

Mammon’s heart skips another beat.

Oh. He’s in for a ride, he thinks faintly. 

Somehow, he liked the sound of it.

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a/n ▸HAPPY LUPE DAY!!! (@lonely-north-star we love you). this is brought to you by @sheepthatgobaa & i <3 her fanart can be found HERE (pretty please, take a look thank you) also, songs were chosen by kelo & i <3 not beta-read because I forgot timezones existed and I procrastinated.... 

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 3

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Flirting, still a little awkwardness, blindfold, sensory deprivation, foreplay, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: Your day out with Zach gets more intense at every turn. Notes: Hopefully you're all enjoying the prolonged date as much as we -- and they -- are! (As always, chapter gifs are for the vibes, not to physically describe the characters.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

It isn't hard for anyone who sees you during the rest of the day to spot the dreamy couple out on a date. The older woman who shows you to your table at the restaurant Zach picked out for dinner gives you a wink in agreement that he's an absolute cutie pie and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine and a candle for your table despite none of the others having one set out.

He had chosen a restaurant that was more local than tourist and had been thrilled when there was no formal dress code. Eager to sit down with you after so much walking and talk about more of anything and everything that has been the topics of the day. “So how did you start out singing?” He asks curiously.

“My elementary school had a chorus.” It might be the first time in hours you haven’t been holding hands, but you’re still smiling as you sit side by side with your wine watching the sun set. “I stuck with it because I was a kid and it was fun, then the dance lessons got added, and then as I got older I realized that I also liked theater. It became a combination.”

“So you were a theatre kid.” He nods in understanding. He hadn’t been, but he had been friends with some and understood the passion of performing even if he didn’t have it.

“That’s how I ended up in New York.” You tell him, expression twisting into something like regret. “Just another small town kid convinced they could be the next Broadway star. Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“But you tried.” He reminds you, leaning against your shoulder and wishing he could take away the sadness. “Some people never try.”

“I go between thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, and wondering why I ever bothered at all.” With that offer of support there, you lean against his shoulder in turn and shrug gently. “It is what it is, I guess. But…how did you start cooking?”

Zach sighs softly, knowing that it would eventually come up. “Actually, I just started cooking a few years ago.” He admits.

“You did?” That surprises you enough to turn your head and look at him more fully. “So it’s just at natural talent, then?”

“I guess?” He shrugs slightly. “I got a job working in a kitchen. Saved my life.” He tells you. “Threw myself into it and experimented as much as I could and read everything I could get my hands on.”

“So you stumbled into your calling.” There is something else there, something he doesn’t want to tell you, so you don’t push. “That’s wonderful, though. Some people never find what they’re meant to do in their whole lives.”

“It helps with my anxiety.” He admits with a self deprecating grin. “So I decided that it was the best thing for me. One day I’d like to have a restaurant. One that I can plan every detail, down to free meals for the homeless.”

“I love that.” Without hesitation, the idea is not only a kind one but one you can tell means a great deal to him. “Some places have a system where you can pay for meals for others in advance, too. System like that can be used to pay for extra supplies so no one ever has to be turned away.”

“That would be amazing.” He’s had benefited from that kind of system before, but not often. And he knows how uplifting a good, hot meal can be when you are down.

"You can make it happen." Something in your gut tells you that he can and he will, and even though you have no stake in it, you can't help but feel proud of him for that.

“I’m hoping.” He flashes you a grateful grin. Even your confidence in him sounds so sure when he’s always wondered if he can succeed. “The club on the ship has given me so many ideas.”

"I've been eating your ideas," you remind him with a grin. "And they're fantastic. You're really good, Zach. Any place would be lucky to have you and any team would be lucky to have you lead them."

“What about you?” He asks. “This has to be a stepping stone for you. I’ve already heard from the crew that you might have some head hunters after you.” One of the passengers was apparently connected in the music industry and had been in to the club several nights.

"If I do, that's news to me." Whatever murmurings Zach has heard, you haven't. But you would be lying if you claimed not to be curious. "I don't know, honestly. I think I would rather be a headliner in a little club than wave a rose in a Broadway chorus for the rest of my life. But the chances of either are relatively slim." You take a sip of your wine and offer him a smile, shrugging one shoulder. "In my dreams I'm getting top billing in the biggest musicals and you're running the most popular restaurant in the country. Ultimate New York City power couple."

“That sounds amazing.” Zach chuckles. “Actually, running this style club, I think it would work in New York.” He tells you. “A dinner club.”

"I know it's something that you see in retirement communities in Florida, but I have always loved dinner theater." His laugh is sweet and deep and rolls through you like a wave of joy. "This club is such a great gig for people like us."

“Yes it is, but imagine….” He sighs softly. “Creating a headliner show like you would see in Vegas, right in New York and pairing it with a daily changing menu like we do here.”

"New York would love a show like that." It sounds so doable when he says it. Like a dream you could reach for and pluck out of the sky.

“It would be sold out.” He agrees, flashing a hopeful smile. “One day, maybe if I had the right singer to run the show side of things.”

"I guess you're going to have to get to know some singers then, aren't you?" His bright smile is reflected right back at him, teasing as always but it's because part of you can't dare to dream this big for yourself. Only for him.

“I will.” He nods and shrugs. “Maybe hold auditions or something. Singing for your supper?”

"That's what most of us do." You agree, not wanting your smile to flicker at all even if the memories sting. "Sometimes literally."

Zach catches the change, the dimming of the light in your eyes and he knows that he’s touched on a sensitive topic for you. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “I think I gravitated towards cooking because I knew if I was making food for others, I would not have that gnawing ache of hunger ever again.” He licks his lips. “Food insecurity, the therapist called it.”

Your heart sinks, chest tightening, and you nod as you slip your hand back into his. "I wish I was more surprised to find out that more than a few of us have been there. But a job like ours...with guaranteed housing and meals and a way to save money for months at a time? It makes sense that it would attract people who have had it hard."

Of course you would be understanding. His eyes close as he nods, feeling a little choked up by the compassion in your voice and the understanding in your touch. “Absolutely. And I hate that you’ve had a moments bad luck.” He murmurs. “You deserve so much.”

"So do you." You squeeze his hand gently. "Bad luck doesn't make us bad people."

“Not at all.” His hand slips from yours and his arm wraps around your shoulders protectively. “Now - before we start choking up, what do you want to try?” He wants this date to be nothing but a lovely moment for you and he tries to steer the conversation to more positive thoughts.

Without saying another word about it, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and refocus on the menu in his hands. They have enough tourists in town that the menu from this restaurant has one-sentence item descriptions in English that simply tell non-Greek speakers the main ingredients of each dish. A quick glance around you shows you that everything here seems to be served family style, and you settle in Zach's side again happily.

"How does this sound?" You ask, pointing out the special. Gamopilafo. The menu says, with Arnáki Stamnagathi. "Greek risotto with lamb and vegetables?"

“That sounds amazing.” Zach groans happily and nods. “Do you want to get that and something else?” He doesn’t want you to share with him if you are just trying to make the bill cheaper, he can afford paying for dinner.

"It looks like it's family style? Maybe we can get another side dish to go with it so we can try more?" You shrug slightly, knowing that food was just a topic of some stress for both of you. "Sharing sounds nice. But not if you don't want to."

“I’m not opposed to sharing at all.” He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose to yours. “I’ll share anything with you.”

"Promises, promises." It's too tempting to have him close and not indulge in another kiss, but you keep it short and chaste in case Zach isn't too into public displays of affection. The half dozen or so kisses that you have shared today have been relatively private so you want to respect that for him.

Zach smiles, beams really. “What else do you want, baby?” The term of endearment slips out, but he doesn’t try to take it back or apologize. Feeling like it’s just the natural next step of this amazing day.

While the honest answer is him, that isn't what he's asking so you pull yourself out of the dirty thoughts you've been having on and off all damn day and look back down at the menu. In the top section there is something that lists cheese, fruit, bread, and flavored local olive oil, so you point that out. "Cretan charcuterie plate to start?"

“I think that’s a good idea.” Zach agrees and smiles at you. “We can see if we can come up with our own ideas for a board.”

"We'll have enough menu ideas for three new restaurants if we let our imaginations wander." Which is not a bad thing at all, but it does have both of you grinning when the waitress comes over to take your order.

Zach orders for the both of you, checking in with his eyes to make sure that it’s everything you want and hands the menu over with a pleasant smile for the waitress. Enjoying the knowing glances she shoots between the two of you. “I think that she thinks we are newlyweds or something.” He confesses quietly when she walks away. “What do you think?”

“Maybe.” Don’t be so you, you remind yourself for the hundredth time in your head. “I don’t know how many people come around here being cuddly on a fantastic day-long first date.”

“It has been fantastic, hasn’t it?” He muses, reminding himself that neither one of you has walked away or even been upset today. Not really.

“I think so.” There are clearly more things to talk about in your future, but today has left you optimistic that that future could exist. “I’m glad you do, too.”

“So, what’s your favorite type of wine?” He asks. “With charcuterie? Are you a white wine or sangria girl?”

“I’m a whatever wine you serve me kind of girl,” you tell him with an amused laugh. “But I do love sangria. There are very few things that aren’t made better with a glass of sangria or a margarita.”

“A margarita; huh?” He smirks. “Salt on the rim or sugar?”

“Depends on the flavor.” After all, your palate isn’t nonexistent, it’s just uneducated. “But usually salt.”

“A watermelon margarita is my favorite.” He admits. “Salt and sugar on the rim.”

“Salt and sugar?” That has you raising an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”

“It’s delicious.” He chuckles. “Goes with a hamburger or ribs. Drinks just like water.”

“That sounds incredible.” It sounds absolutely mouthwatering, actually, and you crack a grin. “Maybe I’m just really hungry.”

“Next crew party why don’t we do sliders and margaritas?” He offers. “I think you’d love it.”

“It sounds amazing.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But I would also eat an old sneaker if it came out of your kitchen, so just know I’m always here for your food.”

“So boil shoe leather.” He pretends to make a note and laughs when you shove him playfully.

“You boil shoe leather and I’ll sing scales off key. Our worst work night ever.”

Zach throws his head back and laughs. The deep, belly laugh of a man who is completely convinced that it possible could happen and finds it up-roaringly funny. “You’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” He doesn’t need to know that a musical lyric sprung to mind instantly. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve been thinking it for an hour or more now. But you do hope he knows that the absolute affection shining in your eyes is honest and real.

He hums, not exactly able to take a compliment as well as he can give one. Instead he clinks his wine glass against yours. “To being perfect together.” He offers with a smile.

Neither of you take compliments well, you note with a smile, but drink deeply from your glass and enjoy a private smile that he unknowingly completed the thought of the song lyric in your head. “I know you’re supposed to wait until the end of the date to say it,” you set down your glass, thank the waitress when she brings over the first course, and restart your thought after a few seconds. “But I really think we should do this again.”

Zach’s heart leaps at your comment, happy that you have said that. “Well, of course we should.” He agrees, winking at you as he starts to dip a crusty piece of bread into the seasoned olive oil. “But I was thinking maybe we spend a little more time together on the ship when we can?”

"We could always skip the crew parties now and then to have time to ourselves." Following suit, you dive into the cheese board along with him. The cured olives and soft cheese are calling your name. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

“I mainly go to the crew parties to see you.” Zach confesses with a shy smile, offering you the dipped bread after he’s spread a bit of goat’s cheese on top of it.

"I–" Your eyes drop, your whole face heats, and you clear your throat before offering him an olive that you have stuffed with a pinch of soft sheep's milk cheese. "I go to the crew parties to see you."

Zach snorts and shakes his head. “We are pathetic.” He teases. “Mooning over each other and not even aware of it until Shane makes you take me a drink.”

"He tried to tell me," you admit after trying the bite that Zach made for you. Like everything else he's ever fed you, it's perfect. "I just...didn't really think I had a shot."

“He would always talk about you.” He huffs. “Making that crush I was suffering under nearly unbearable.” He smirks. “I guess he was hoping to push me into making a move.”

“And when you didn’t, he pushed me instead.” Which is a very Shane thing to do, really. He’s always been a little bit too cocky for his own good. “He’s like my big brother. So it makes perfect sense that he would meddle endlessly.”

“He basically adopted me once we became roommates.” Zach agrees. “He’s a good guy with a surprisingly big heart.”

“It took him a while to get there,” you acknowledge, not quite knowing how much of Shane’s story he had shared with Zach. “But now that he has? He’ll be damned if he doesn’t help everyone that he can.”

“Yeah.” Zach nods. “From what he’s told me, he’s completely different than when he was first sent away.”

“He showed me a picture once. Oh how he dresses and everything back then.” Just keeping the topic about appearance is lighthearted. That way you don’t dip too far into past seriousness. “Even if that was the only thing that changed, he really is a completely different guy now.”

“Jet black hair.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Dude has amazing hair now. I’m a little jealous of it.” Shane still has earrings, but he’s no longer sporting the goth edge he had back in his younger years.

“Do you ever think about growing yours out?” Zach still has short-trimmed hair that is probably a cinch to take care of, but he might look great with it longer.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn it long.” He admits, rubbing his hand up the back of his head. “Since high school.” He snorts. “But I’ve not given it a lot of thought, honestly. Why? You think it would look good longer?” He asks, curious about your preferences. Everyone has them, it’s like preferring clean shaven over a beard.

“I caught myself wondering once if your hair was curly when it grows out,” you admit, clearing your throat a little from being flustered. Admitting that you’ve wondered and daydreamed about him is a big step to your mind.

“Yeah?” A slow, pleased grin starts to stretch across his face as he turns back towards you again. “Daydreaming about running your fingers through my hair?”

“Maybe.” The huff in your voice is pure embarrassment, though you’re glad that he seems to like the idea rather than being weirded out by it.

“Then I have to confess something…” he drops his voice down to a whisper like it’s a secret. “I really love when the hairdresser runs her fingers through my hair when cutting it.”

It feels like a far more visceral tease than you’ve been giving him, and you can practically feel how soft his shirt hair is when your eyes flick up to it. “Noted,” you manage to huff out a second later, banishing the mental image of Zach beneath you as you card your fingers through growing curls.

He smirks and winks at you when you manage to look at him again, finding it incredibly empowering to know that you are on the same level as he is. Both of you wanting so much, but being too shy to reach for it. Someone will have to make a move, but right now, he’s enjoying the flirting and bantering.

Neither of you seem to care much that it takes longer to make bites out of your appetizer if you hold hands, enjoying the small show of intimacy more than anything else. You're loathe to give up that connection now that you have it.

Zach enjoys sharing with you. Often making bites for you to try, and he smiles every time you groan in pleasure.

“Just because I have no idea how to cook anything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it,” you insist, and you’re laughing together when your waitress brings out your shared entree. The large and shallow bowl is obviously meant to be shared but is beautifully arranged — vegetables bringing color with the creamy risotto-like grains and tantalizingly seared and roasted lamb.

“Many blessings.” She is smiling at both of you as she puts the food down between you. “Happy marriage to young love.”

“Thank you.” Zach doesn’t correct her, beaming instead and bringing up your hand and kissing the back of it. If they believe that you are newlyweds, who are you to disclaim it?

Seeing him go with the assumption instead of correcting the woman makes your heart swell. There is something deeply soft and intimate about the gesture and you’re sure you must look so deeply entranced by your date that protesting wouldn’t do any good anyway.

“Soulmates?” The older woman asks, looking at the two of you with the pride of a grandmother.

Zach bites his lip, unsure of how to answer that, so he just wings it. “What do you think?” He asks, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

"Very." The woman agrees, and with another proud smile she clasps both of your shoulders and heads off again to the kitchen with the purpose and speed of someone off to share vital gossip.

Zach smiles at you. “Well, I guess that makes us official.” He hums. “What do you think?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Want to be my girlfriend? Or should we jump straight to soulmate and wife?” He asks. “We’ve already gotten approval here.”

"It might be a little dramatic to show back up to the ship married." And yet you're grinning. You're absolutely beaming at him in a way that can't possibly be contained and for the first time today you don't want it to be. "But I love the sound of girlfriend."

“I’m sure we wouldn’t have been the first couple to have done that.” He doesn’t take offense to you ignoring the remark about soulmates. He’s seen you without sleeves enough to know that you don’t have his tattoo. You can’t be his soulmate, but he is drawn to you like he’s never been to another woman. “But girlfriend sounds perfect to me too.”

"I'm not one of those people that swears soulmates are the only possible relationship," you explain, as the two of you rearrange your little table to share your entree comfortably. The waitress had also brought you fresh drinks so the little table is loaded down with tantalizing options. "My parents aren't soulmates and they've been happily married for almost forty years. It's a great thing, but I always thought choosing your person yourself was more important than anything else."

“Interesting.” Zach is impressed and he nods. “I know that soulmates aren’t everything, but my parents were.” He tells you, smiling a little sadly. “They were probably the best relationship I’ve ever seen.”

"We both had good role models for healthy relationships. That's far more rare than it should be, I think." You note the past tense in his words but don't push, instead watching as he carefully serves the meal onto the two smaller plates you were given.

The lamb smells amazing and Zach is already drooling, imagining what he could make. “Are you ready to give me ideas?” He teases as he looks up from finishing plating.

"Dinner ideas?" You raise an eyebrow at him and pick up your fork, feeling bold with the help of the waitress who broke the ice and managed to make you Zach's girlfriend with a touch of cute teasing. "Or dirty ideas?"

“I accept all ideas.” Zach promises, his voice dipping down slightly, turning sensual.

"Fuck." Even just a quiet groan of frustration from you is enough to let him know exactly where you're at. Every single time he kisses you, you're convinced that you're going to soak through your shorts, and you no longer care if he knows it or not.

“I’ve been thinking about something.” Zach starts, forking up a bite of the risotto and trying it with a groan of approval.

"Tell me." There have been a few more serious topics touched on today without delving too deep, but you have faith that whatever it is that's on his mind won't be bad.

“We don’t have to be back on the ship until tomorrow morning.” The club is closed for the night while in port since the majority of the passengers are on shore. “What do you think about not going back tonight?”

"Like...find a little hotel?" Your fork is halfway to your mouth when you meet his eyes, seeing that there is the same spark of desire there as in your own. "That would certainly be more comfortable than using one of our bunks after we kick our roommate out," you agree, letting a grin crawl across your face.

“We don’t have to.” He stresses, not wanting you to feel like he expects to spend the night with you.

"I know." But you shrug with just a touch of guilt. "And if you want to wait that's totally fine. But...I definitely want to."

“I want to.” He is quick to reassure you of that. “I really want to. I just—” he bandied about for the right words. “Didn’t want to come off as pushy.”

"Pushy is normally my problem." you promise him. "The other part of Shane's whole 'be less you' advice was not rolling up to our first date and telling you we would make beautiful children." It's still of a hell of a way to come on strong so you laugh it off, but it's true all the same. "You've been anything but pushy, baby."

“You would have beautiful babies with Shrek.” He snorts, shaking his head. “My genes would have nothing to do with it.”

"Don't count yourself out." The grin on your face slides sideways and the two of you dig into your dinner in earnest. "Those curls of yours on a little baby? Cuties."

He blushes slightly, imagining how a baby with you would look. It’s a fantasy that he never even imagined being able to consider just a few years ago. “Only because of you. And most babies are cuties anyway.”

“They are.” That’s just a fact as far as you’re concerned. The two of you continue to eat for another minute or so before your mind catches up with all the possible consequences of that topic coming up and you almost stutter as you reach for your wine glass. “I’m—I’m on birth control, though,” you point out. Like he might think you’re trying to baby trap him on the first date just because you think babies are cute. “That’s…like I want kids eventually but I’m not crazy about it.”

This is happening. Zach swallows a bite of the deliciously fragrant and juicy lamb so he doesn’t choke. “Good. I mean, I would still want to wear a- birth control shouldn’t just be on you.” He tells you. “I’m clean, but I- it’s always good to- you know, uh, be safe.”

“I’m clean too, and if you feel more comfortable with a condom that’s totally fine, I just—” Who knows if more wine is actually a good idea at this point but you take about gulp out of nerves. “I didn’t want you to think I had any motivation for…you know…tonight, other than really liking you.”

He has to laugh at that, reaching for your hand and winking at you. “You’re focusing on your career. I don’t think that your grand plan is to be knocked up by the chef of the club you headline your first contract out.” He promises.

“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly.” And yet? A part of you is certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that if it happened you could be such a happy little family.

He smirks slightly and reaches over to brush off a tiny bit of sauce on the edge of your mouth. “So we both know where we stand.” He hums. “Let’s just relax and enjoy where our night takes us.”

******

With the sun set and your meal finished, an intimacy has settled over you and Zach as you sip your coffee together and listen to the busy streets of Knossos bustle with tourists and nightlife. Normally you would be part of that. You would be out with friends or searching out a feeling to get lost in — but today has been so thorough in proving that you can simply get lost in Zach that you don’t want to stray. Everything you could possibly want for your night is right here next to you. And it’s a type of calming feeling that you don’t know you’ve ever felt with another person before.

“That was probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Zach rubs his stomach appreciatively and looks over at you. “Lamb on the menu for the club?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You’ll eat anything he cooks anyway. But having it be a special memory between the two of you? That’s worth bragging about. “With those whipped carrots you made yesterday? Oh my god.”

“You liked those?” He grins, loving feedback as much as the next person and if it comes from you it makes it even sweeter. “I’ve been thinking about making it a soufflé and putting a topping on it. Similar to a sweet potato soufflé? What do you think? Too much?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve never had a soufflé before.”

“You’ve never had a sweet potato casserole?” His eyes widen. “You’re shitting me?”

You shrug weakly, yet can’t help but laugh at how strong his reaction is. “My dad hates sweet potatoes,” you explain between giggles. “We basically ate like toddlers in my house forever, because he only liked four or five foods.”

“Wow.” He chuckles. “So I know what I’m making you tomorrow.” He grins. “Roasted chicken with sweet potato soufflé, creamed spinach and a fresh cranberry compote.”

“We just ate.” Sure, your tone is complaining, but the teasing is clear and sparkling in your eyes. “Why do you have to make me hungry all over again?”

Laughing, he leans over slightly to pull his wallet out to pay. Having cash is something of a safety net to him, although he’s proud of the shiny credit card with a low limit as he builds his credit back up. Offers have started coming for pre-approval of credit limits, but he’s resisted getting one so far. He pays this card off every month like clockwork. “I’ll let you sleep it off first.” He promises.

A different woman comes out with your check and a small folded bag. She smiles when she sees Zach ready to pay, and hands you the bag. “Congratulations,” she explains in a thick but clear accent. “From my grandparents. They’re very flattered you chose their restaurant for your honeymoon.”

Zach immediately feels guilty. “No— nothing is necessary.” He promises, shaking his head. “We are happy to be here. The food was amazing.”

"It's just a few cookies," she promises, apparently charmed by the display of manners. "And we're always glad to have kind guests."

“Everyone here has been wonderful.” Zach smiles as he hands over his card. “Now we just need to find a hotel with people as wonderful.”

"You don't have a place to stay already?" The bill is easily and silently settled with the exchange of a few bills between them and the woman points down the beach to a three-story white building on the edge of the beach. "Dite is a beautiful hotel. Small. But very nice. And you will see the perfect sunrise in your room."

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asks, turning towards you. “I think it sounds just about perfect, if they have a room available.”

“Small sounds perfect.” In fact, after the bustle of the ship, it sounds like a small relief. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“I will call for you.” She offers. “Family.”

“That would be wonderful.” You look to Zach for confirmation. “The hotel is my treat. I promise.”

He huffs, frowning slightly at the notion of you paying and there is a grin on the woman’s face as she nods in approval. “I will go call right now and let them know you are coming.” She beams before scampering off.

“It’s okay.” Sensing a bit of hurt pride that you dismiss as typically male, you lean over and kiss Zach’s cheek. “You can buy our breakfast.”

He can’t tell you that it’s because he somehow still looks at someone paying for something – even if it benefits them – as a handout. That is way too deep for this date and probably means he needs to schedule a visit with the VA therapist next time he’s in New York. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He hums.

It only takes a few minutes for the younger waitress to return, and when she does she is smiling broadly. To Zach she hands a slip with the name and address of the hotel. “They’re getting your room ready now,” she tells you both gladly.

“Thank you.” He smiles. “For everything.”

“Our pleasure.” She assures him, and trots off again after saying good night.

He turns towards you and gives you a searching look. “Are you ready?”

"Absolutely." Considering you can see the hotel from here, you don't mind walking. A stroll through the streets of the ancient city, hand in hand with your newly minted boyfriend? It sounds perfect to you.

Zach scoots out of the seat and holds out his hand to you. “Then let’s walk off this amazing dinner.”

The roads and the beach stretch on longer than you anticipate but the walk is welcome. You're most quiet, enjoying each other's company without the need to fill the air with idle conversation. You take in the city around you and the overwhelming number of tourists. The hustle and the bustle is beautiful, but something about the fact that you can be comfortable in the quiet with Zach brings and unexpected extra layer of intimacy to the night.

Walking hand in hand is intimate, serene. He doesn’t feel the need to make excuses or fill the silence, he just enjoys the way the smiles seem to be just for you as a couple, coming from others who pass you on the streets.

The hotel is clean and bright, and the extended family of the folks who owned the restaurant are as sweet as can be when you check in. They’ve put you in a top floor room facing the ocean and promise you it’s their best, and you and Zach take the stairs up after thanking them once more.

“I feel bad.” Zach muses. “They think we are on our honeymoon.”

“First dates can be just as special as honeymoons, right?” You offer as you make your way down the hall to your room. “I checked their rates online and it was the same as what we paid. So they’re not giving us big discounts or anything. If they had, I would have said something.”

“Good.” He feels better about that and his stomach twists in nervous anticipation. You both had stopped in a little shop where he had purchased a small box of condoms. They feel heavy in his pocket.

“Hey.” The leaden heaviness sits between you as you unlock the door to your room and push it open. Before you even make a move to step inside, you settle your hand on Zach’s arm and offer him a soft, reassuring smile. “Just because we want to doesn’t mean we have to tonight, okay? We can decide to just hang out and cuddle and sleep beside each other and it will still be perfect.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks seriously, trying not to look disappointed, because he doesn’t want that to pressure you.

“Not at all.” You’re quick to assure him of that, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “You just seem…nervous? I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”

“Afraid of disappointing you.” He admits with a small huff of amusement at himself as he flashes you a grin. “It’s been a while for me.”

"Then I'm flattered you would choose me to be the one to break that dry spell with." It really is a vote of confidence from him, and you won't take that for granted. Despite the fact that you don't understand how in the hell anyone has ever let him go, you're glad to be the person that is here and ready to see all of the potential he has as a partner.

“I would be fucking crazy not to.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Baby you are gorgeous and kind, and everything I don’t deserve.”

"Hey now." You shake your head as you shut the door behind the two of you, flipping the lock and feeling the shiver of anticipation roll through you. But still, hearing him put himself down is the last thing you're comfortable with and when you turn back to Zach you slide your hands up his arms gently. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, what makes you think you get to?"

“Habit.” He admits, biting his lip and reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “I’m working on it.”

"I'm here to remind you how incredible you are anytime you need." A strong support system means everything, you learned that the hard way. And you're more than happy to be that for Zach.

“Thanks.” There’s a bit gratefulness and quite a bit of amazement in his eyes as he looks at you. “You are absolutely amazing, you know that?” He asks. “You take my breath away.”

Your hands creep up his arms, sliding around his neck so your fingers can sink into his short, soft hair. "I'd be happy to do that for you literally, if you'd like."

“How would you do that?” He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to hear what you have in mind.

The hum that leaves your lips as you press your body against his is full of promise. "I'd start at the top and work my way down, of course," you tell him, bringing Zach down to meet your lips for a searing kiss.

He can’t help but groan, a grown man melting against you, but he’s already weak in the knees from the passion in just this one kiss. The sense of complete rightness that washes over him as his own arms band around you tighter and he starts to give back to you.

None of the kisses you had shared yet today had been allowed to be this deep. You were in public. You were sharing space with other people. And this is so intensely intimate. It would have felt wrong just to let other people see your naked heart out there on your sleeve. But when it is just the two of you locked safely away in the privacy of a hotel room? You would be a puddle at his feet if it weren’t for the uncanny strength of him holding you tight against his chest.

It’s not hard for his body to respond instantly. He’s already lived most of the day in a state of arousal just being around you. But with the length of your body pressed against his and your tongue coaxing his further into your mouth? He is rock hard and aching. Groaning slightly as he turns both of you towards where the bed should be based on the split second examination of the room earlier.

And just like that you feel ignited. The press of his body against yours as he steers you blindly through around the room is an errant spark that seems to catch on every inch of you. With one hand your fingers card and tug in his hair, nails grazing over his scalp. With the other you pull his shoulders to keep him impossibly close — feeling like you’ll forget to breathe if you stop sharing gasps with him between kisses.

You taste like sweet wine and cream. A perfect combination when mixed with something that is just…you. He can’t describe it, but it’s warm and earthy.

The backs of your legs bump against the bed frame, almost toppling you over and making you hang onto Zach all the more tightly, giggling into the kiss. “Oops,” You can’t help but laugh at how deeply uncoordinated it was, even as out of breath as you are. “Weak knees aren’t very stable, apparently.”

“Then we should lay down.” Zach suggests, grinning against your lips and starting to crouch down.

It doesn’t exactly take convincing. Not when every single time he’s kissed you today has turned you a soaking wet, needy mess. The fact that you finally get to do something about it is exhilarating and relieving all at once. “Hell yes,” you agree, nearly hauling him into the bed with you when you try to kiss him and move at the same time.

He laughs when you both nearly topple over, flopping down on your sides in a move that is not nearly as graceful as he had planned in his mind. “Eager?” He asks. Sliding his hand down your side to your ass.

“Oh, absolutely.” You smirk, but shift your leg ever so slightly so your thigh presses against the front of his shorts. “Just as much as you are.”

“Baby, have you looked in the mirror?” Zach groans, twitching under the pressure. “You’re a complete knockout and fucking sweet as pie.”

“As long as you like what you see, the mirror doesn’t matter.” What you see and what he sees looking at you will never be quite the same, so as long as he likes the version of you that he sees, you’re fine with it.

Zach doesn’t say anything else, he just slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours softly.

It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture that you melt deeper into the mattress. For that one moment there are no thoughts at all left in your head. It’s just Zach and the possibilities.

He follows you, body half covering yours as he lets the kiss deepen slightly. Not too much, but he squeezes your ass gently as he grinds into you.

The roll of his hips earns him a moan, and he swallows it up eagerly so you give him another and hitch one leg up to let him get closer.

He presses deeper into you, slotting his hips between yours as you open up and he gasps into your mouth when his hard cock presses against the heat of your core.

The heat in your belly flares hotter, wicking all the way Down your limbs, and you whimper again because you have no prayer of a coherent sentence or even word in that moment. There’s horny and eager then there’s whatever the hell you are as you grind your hips against his to beg for more.

It’s juvenile, but grinding against you over clothes while he kisses you is the height of eroticism right now. He groans into your mouth before breaking away, wanting to taste every inch of your skin.

He trails kisses along your jaw and throat, making your back arch and stealing your breath all over again. While he begins to travel south you tug at his shirt, trying to tear the damn thing off while your whole body aches for him.

Zach smiles against your skin, cutting his eyes up at you playfully. “You’re too impatient” he teases, pulling away. “Think I’ll blindfold you.”

You pout instantly, but the idea is intriguing enough that you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do I get to see you eventually?”

“Eventually.” He smirks, loving that you are going along with his little idea. “That way you can accurately judge how good I am.”

“I can’t judge your skills with my eyes open?” Delighted to have found him not so very vanilla after all, you let the hand you still have in his hair tug in his curls and grin when he moans.

“You might be overwhelmed by my good looks.” He chuckles and shakes his head. One of the things that made him suggest this is his tattoo. He didn’t want to have a ton of questions about it right now. This wasn’t the time for remembering the past, but enjoying the present.

“Is this a ‘hands off’ situation, too? Or can I at least still touch you?” There are plenty of things you’re willing to try out that you already know you enjoy that people might consider out of the ordinary, but the first time with a new partner you want to feel them in every way.

“You can touch me.” He promises. “I’m just feeling a little shy right now.” He jokes playfully, winking at you. “Don’t want you to get too scared.”

“You have nothing you need to be shy about, but I fully respect having a few hang ups. I’ve got plenty, too.” Reluctantly as you are to take your hands off of him, you reach for your belt instead — or rather, the long sash of fabric that you tied through your belt loops today because you thought it looked a little cuter than a standard belt. “Use this.”

“Are you sure?” He takes the fabric from your hands and holds it up to his eyes playfully.

“I trust you.” You trust him somehow inherently. As though it were as simple as trusting yourself. In a way that sticks in your chest and warms through you like hot cocoa in winter.

He watches you for a moment after pulling the scarf down from his face, “Okay.” He agrees. “I just want this to be something we never forget.”

“I can already guarantee I will never forget any part of today,” you promise him, shivering slightly with anticipation as he settles your former belt gently over your eyes.

He ties it firmly, but not too tight. If you need it off, all you need to do is slip it up your forehead or pull it down. The point of this is to be fun, to explore without judgement and he can’t do that if you are uncomfortable. “Hopefully that’s a good thing and it doesn’t go into your ‘worst dates’ catalog.” He jokes before he slides his hands down to the edge of your shirt to push it up your stomach and drop a kiss right above your belly button.

With every small touch now heightened, your skin tingles with the scrap of his calloused fingers and press of the feather-light kiss. “I don’t fuck on the first date unless it’s a really fucking good date.”

“Me either.” Zach smirks against your skin before he decides to nip your side slightly, laughing quietly when you jump and gasp at the grazing of his teeth. Instead of working down, he decides to work up and nuzzles just under the band of your bra.

One hand blindly makes its way to his shoulder again, grasping the thick cords of muscle there and reminding you just how powerful this broad man is that is being so tender and playful with you. At this point it’s Zach’s game — to explore and to pleasure and to discover — and every point of contact between you is a spark catching fire.

It takes just a second to discover that your bra hooks in the front, to Zach's utter delight, making it easy to unbind your breasts and capture a nipple in his mouth before your shirt is even off or your straps slid down your arms.

The heat and pressure of Zach’s mouth feels boiling even on this warm night, sending you gasping and cursing as you grip his shoulder tighter. If you get any wetter your shorts might outright dissolve, but he would probably consider that a bragging right.

Zach groans against your nipple, loving the little arch to your back, pushing your breast to his mouth more. Offering yourself up.

There is no steady rhythm to any of it as Zach works to take you apart piece by piece. He has a method in his madness, surely, but you are breathless and moaning as he reduces you to a human puddle on the bedsheets. While you can’t see him like this you can definitely feel him, and your hands tug at his shirt again to get that luscious skin-on-skin sensation as he starts to travel down your body.

He takes his time, learning the sensitive spots on your body and enjoying every soft sound he pulls out of your mouth. Until he is dragging your shorts down your legs.

It’s about fucking time says the impatient voice in your head as you squirm in the bed and lift your hips to help him move things along. He’s consented to take his shirt off, at least, so that warmth that rolls off of him in waves can seep directly into your bones. You whimper as the cool breeze of exposure hits your overheated cunt, dripping with need and aching for attention.

“Fuck, you look so pretty right now.” Zach groans at the sight of your wet lips, hair trimmed and manicured. You either were hoping that the night would end this way, or you were very meticulous about your grooming. He’s kind of hoping for the former even though he wouldn’t care if you had done anything. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”

“Tease.” You whine, trying to sound huffy but only succeeding in strangling another moan when his breath ghosts over your swollen pussy. Even with his hands caressing your thighs, you’re squirming.

It’s been a long goddamn time since Zach has had a pussy in his face, but he loves the musky scent of your wet sex. Making him twitch and groan as he slowly spreads your lips wide for him to drag his tongue up your folds for that first, tantalizing lick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” With your back arching and your fingers tight in his hair, it’s so easy to lose yourself to one little taste.

He makes a sound of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your clit and comes back for another pass. This time starting lower and letting his tongue tease your entrance before sliding higher.

If you weren’t blindfolded already you might have cum just from the sight of him. His lips and tongue explore while his hands keep you steady, holding you in place so the buck of your hips doesn’t unseat him before he can really get going.

He absorbs your sound, your taste. The very essence of your being, feasted on as he slowly and thoroughly licks through you like a meal he is savoring.

It’s a stunning combination of thorough exploration and eager enthusiasm that has you writing and moaning his name so quickly. You could have had a date yesterday and everything about tonight would already be better. Zach seems somehow to know exactly what you like without asking, reading your signals perfectly air pushing you higher and higher until his name is the only word on your lips.

Zach is completely entranced by the way you respond to his touch, never having a lover he feels so in-sync with. It’s like he’s touched you a million times before rather than just these last few minutes.

The whole world has stopped existing around you. It's just you and Zach and this bed and every new height of pleasure that he keeps building you to. The press of his hands on your hips, the deep push of his tongue, the sharp half-scrape of his teeth near your clit that he's discovered makes you gasp and moan.

“Cum for me baby.” He pulls away to gasp his plea, the need to see you fall apart about to rupture in his veins and make him go mad. His grip tightening on your hips and he dives back into your cunt with the desperation of a man starved that’s reached his oasis.

You don't have to tell me twice, you would say if you could swim through the thick mire of bliss to tease him. Instead, and much more true to the moment, you let out a sobbing moan and beg for just a little bit more to send you over the edge.

He hears the unspoken plea in your whimpers and opens his mouth wider to just devour you. Burying himself into your pussy where his nose is blocked by your mound as he pushes you over the edge and if he died in this moment, he would die blissfully happy.

Your back arches fiercely one more time, lifting your shoulders off the bed as you hit that sharp crest that explodes into your climax. All of your muscles tense and curses spill freely, interspersed with his name and moans entirely without words – until that crest becomes altogether too much, the thread mercifully snaps, and you fall back on the mattress an utterly satisfied puddle.

Zach is slow to pull his mouth away. Savoring the little tremors that race through your thighs and makes your pussy clench against his chin as he laps at your juices one last time before he lifts his head with a groan of satisfaction. “And just think, we’ve only started.” He hums playfully, knowing that the night has just begun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[skz-sage]

skz reaction to sage excusing herself/getting emotional during an interview [hyung line]

tw // child abuse, ed, mental health & drugs mentioned

bang chan

it was an interview just with the two of them and the questions being asked were more deep and specific then the regular questions they normally get. the interviewer asked her the question she was hoping she’d never get in her career.

“what was your childhood like?”.

chan’s eyes darted at sage with worry, knowing how she feels on the topic. sage wasn’t open about how she came up. she dreaded talking about it. for her fans though? anything. “oh… wow. um, well, … yknow i grew up in new york. it was always me, my mom and my little sister. it was… it was.. tough.”

trying to keep her composure, but the quivering in her voice was evident. sage did her best to say the right things, keeping a calm tone and holding onto chan’s hand for dear life. she ended with this. “no kid deserves to be abused. they deserve to be nurtured and cared for like they’re porcelain. things will get better. they will.” nodding and looking over at the interviewer and chris.

“yeah and we’re all so proud and happy that sage made it this far. we love her to death.” chan added, wiping her tears with his own jacket sleeve.

thank god the universe sent sage someone like chris. at her worst, he’s always there and that’s something she could never live without.

lee know

at this time, there were rumors going around that sage was on drugs during their trainee days, judging by how thin and sickly she looked some of the time.

of course the rumors weren’t true, but it was something she was avoiding. it really caught up to her today

“so sage, recently news have been going around that you are on drugs. is this true.”

“yeah, no, no, no, she’s not answering this, shut the camera off.” minho stood up, the other members stunned that the interviewer would ask such a question.

“ it’s fine, it’s fine! i’ll answer. ” sage assured, telling minho to let it go and sit back down. it took a minute, but minho sat back down, shaking his head in disapproval.

“of course, these nasty rumors aren’t true. i would like to go a different way about it, but… i wasn’t eating much during those days. i was focused on making it as apart of the group and giving it all i got so much that i threw away my health. it was.. a very awful time for me.” the cameras zoomed in on her as tears prickled out her eyes

once minho saw those tears, he shut it down. “okay, no more, no more! shut off the damn camera, no more questions at all. it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it!” the other members around her trying to console her as minho tries to shut down the rest of the interview.

let someone fuck with sage like that just to get a reaction out of her and minho is at their door with a chainsaw and a plan.

changbin

this interviewer just didn’t like sage for some odd reason. a girl in a boy group? come on, that just didn’t go together. she’s probably just some pick me girl. she can’t even sing! those boys don’t deserve this loser tomboy. these were all the thoughts of the interviewer

“so sage…. why are you in this group?”

sage gave an awkward smile, the members around her sharing looks and such. “i’m sorry, what do you mean?” sage replied, obviously confused

“i mean.. you’re a girl! in a boy group!” she exclaimed. sexism does not look good on her.

“and…?” sage sat up in her chair, changbin sitting right next to her and sitting up with her. if sage is gonna stand on business, binnie is too.

“i’m sorry, but… i just don’t get it. you’re more fit for.. i don’t know.. maybe a bubblegum pink pop girl group, yeah?” the interviewer smiled, enraging sage on the inside.

“ no, i’m sorry. i’m leaving.” sage calmly removed her mic, sliding off the chair and leaving the studio. changbin, of course, follows after her.

changbin catches up, giving her a huge hug. after a hard day, all she could ever need is to be engulfed in his big, teddy bear arms

“hey, don’t listen to her. she doesn’t know anything. you’ve come a long away and proved to everyone that you deserve your place in the group. people like her don’t get very far.” sage could only nod, her head running wild with thoughts. maybe a hiatus would due her some good.

hyunjin

sage’s mental health was never the best. she hated to admit it, but she isn’t perfect. for stay, she wished she could be the most perfect idol in the world. that just wasn’t possible. it eats at her day and night too.

“i want to ask, sage, how do you tackle mental health. you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

sage’s palms got clammy as her face got a little pale. “no worries, i can answer. wow, let’s see… i want to be honest.. i don’t really, exactly tackle it. unfortunately, i just let it run wild in my head. i hope some time in the future i can overcome this, but… yeah.” she nodded

“great thank you, and now-” the interviewer continued as sage tried her best to sneak off from the set, turning off her microphone. hyunjin immediately went after her. the members turning to each other and the interviewer confused.

sage was found in the dressing rooms, crying by hyunjin.

“miju! oh my god, are you okay?” he immediately, but delicately held her. “ i’m fine, it’s just.. i-i don’t know, i think i got nervous o-or scared, i didn’t want to cry in front of the cameras, i just couldn’t do it.”

“i know, i know. it’s okay. i’m here.” she cried, holding hyunjin close to her.

“you’ll always be okay, i’ll make sure of it.”

[infinitecakes]

Prompts! Get your prompts here!

We're excited to give you the prompts for the 2024 Infinite Cakes Great Big Bang!

While I cannot control what people do, I'm asking that, until the bang is completed, these prompts be reserved for those participating in the bang. They, and many others will be available for all afterwards!

Current Active Prompts!

Destiel:

1. Dean and Castiel have lived next to each other for years, but they're barely acquaintances. One day, Dean falls off his ladder while outside, and injures himself. Cas sees and calls 911, insisting that he follow Dean to the hospital. After a short stay in the hospital, and with a heavy cast on the injured limb, Dean comes home. When he does, Cas offers to help him with daily chores. It's an offer Dean can't refuse. Strangers to friends... to lovers? You decide!    (Credit to NEG85 on ao3)

2. Castiel is looking for a job after graduating with a degree in business. Dean is the CEO of a corporation and his executive assistant just quit. Dean also helps his friend Charlie at her strip club sometimes, if one of her dancers calls out. Castiel's friends take him out to the strip club one night to congratulate him on his new job, and Dean ends up giving him a lap dance. They have an instant connection, and exchange numbers after the dance. Come Monday morning, they discover that Castiel's new job... is as Dean's new assistant.    (No credit)        

3. Dean is an assassin for hire who is convinced that he's hidden his occupation from Cas, his husband of twelve years. Cas has known about Dean since before they got married, but hasn't said anything because he thinks Dean is cute when he's trying to be covert. Then, one day, everything changes, and Dean finds out just how much Castiel knows.     (Credit to blackhorsedances on ao3)

All Ships:

1. Character A is bored with their life. They've had no luck in love, a job they hate, and are looking for a way out. A relative they've never heard of dies, leaving Character A as the sole beneficiary of their will - including a little garlic bread shop in a remote, but beautiful, village. It takes time to warm up to the new life, to find out what's important, but meeting Character B helps put things in perspective. They clash at first, but eventually A and B fall in love. As they do, A discovers that the village is plagued with vampires, and the late relative was the last in a long line of vampire hunters. Can A find true love, keep the world safe from vampires, AND manage not to burn the garlic bread?    (No credit)

2. A young villain tries to mug Character A, but when he sees their face, he flees in terror. Upon further investigation, Character A finds out that their high school sweetheart, Character B, is now the most powerful villain in the world - and that they've got Chracter A on their "'Do Not Harm Or Else' list."    (No credit)

3. Character A wakes up to find that they drunkenly got married to Character B in Vegas. Whether they knew each other already or are complete strangers is up to you. While trying to get a divorce/annulment, one or both of them realize that maybe they don't want to end the marriage after all. Ultimately, they have to decide to either stay together, or go their separate ways.        (Credit to entropic_saudade on ao3)

[dropthedemiurge]

Hi again!

I'm just here to spread a fun fact:

the break up in LFLS is so much sadder in the novel -

A few hours/days before (When grandma's in the hospital and the mission for choosing between Yeowoon and Grandma appear) Myungha and Yeowoon go peach picking -

Myungha starts his convo where he talks about not knowing HOW to love someone, Yeowoon interprets this as a break up and tells Myungha to stop talking - and Myungha manages to explain himself as Yeowoon sheds a few tears -

Myungha says he will never break up with Yeowoon, (then they almost get caught by security and flee)

After he makes his choice (saving both), his time ticks down to 36 days. He feels dizzy, and Yeowoon catches him. Yeowoon helps him, taking him inside his house and laying him down in a blanket.

After a small while - when the dizziness subsides - Yeowoon feeds Myungha some porridge and asks him what that was all about, but Myungha says nothing.

Myungha begs Yeowoon not to hate him.

Then, seeing his days so low, Myungha knows he has to break up with him that night.

Myungha takes Yeowoon in the train to were he used to live at 29 - they roam the streets, talk about life, eat special food (something that Yeowoon's Grandma used to make Yeowoon eat on rainy days), and sit by the river at night.

Yeowoon is SO excited because he thinks Myungha is finally opening up to him the way he's always wanted — he doesn't even consider this the start of a breakup.

THEY EVEN EAT ICE CREAM BY THE RIVER -

its one of those icecreams with two lolly sticks - they break the icecream in two. Myungha gets the smaller piece, but Yeowoon gives him his bigger peice.

Myungha tries so hard to tell Yeowoon the truth about this being a game, about his missions, and everything else — but he physically cannot because the game-world won't let him.

he then HAS to break up,

at first Yeowoon doesnt believe it, but then he gets angry and kisses Myungha to stop him.

Myungha pushes him away rather harsh, telling him to stop - Yeowoon starts crying, he then gets on his knees with tears, literally begging, saying he'd do anything to get back together - he'll fix himself to what Myungha wants.

Yeowoon grabs on so tight to Myungha's hand, holding it against his cheek with tears dribbling down.

Yeowoon says he loves Myungha and constantly apologises for how he's acting, now and in the past, promising to do better, he just wants to be with Myungha.

Myungha pulls his arm away - it starts to rain again,

his days increase from 36 days to 100 days

===========================================

I find this version so much sadder (and better tbh) because Yeowoon is so excited the whole time, he's giggling and blushing. honestly just soo happy that Myungha was sharing a part of him - this was something Yeowoon had been asking for time and time again.

But the whole thing has sad undertone as Myungha reitteres in his inner dialogue how this would be their last date, their last meal ect.

And unlike the Kdrama where Yeowoon could maybe guess, in this version, it was totally outta nowhere for him,

the way Yeowoon's cute smile drops in the novel in disbelief is the most gut wrenching thing ever.

also the line where Yeowoon says "I know you don't like me the way I do" makes a lot more sense in the context of the novel, where its clear that Myungha is clearly holding himself back from fully investing in the relationship and is honestly more distracted and tense. (he doesnt say how he feels, he doesn't want to kiss Yeowoon, ect)

i wish the drama was longer to add these moments :(

===========================================

Once more, sorry for spamming again and thanks for reading :D

i just needed to share

Stay Safe <3

You are so right IT IS VERY SAD :((

I think the English translation on novel website actually had some of these break up chapters? I definitely remember the illegal peach picking and the underlying sadness ugh Т__Т

And I also wish Kdrama was a bit longer so we could sit with them and make breakup more smooth and logical... but also I still think they worked the novel into it very well. Like, there's that short scene that's absolutely gut-wrenching for me - when they are on a rooftop and Yeowoon is excited, saying 'let's go pick chestnuts in autumn!' and Myungha pauses - what a heavy pause - and only says 'don't forget to take care of yourself' because of immediate doom of the Game. It's different plot-wise but the similar dreadful feeling is there.Т___Т

But also yes, the LFLS novel has so many sad and sweet extra scenes! I wish all of them were adapted in Kdrama version! (and the extension from 36 days to 100 days would make sense, I found Kdrama game mechanics a bit wobbly at the end with that breakup/time with Myungha return/different timeline etc, but probably yes, novel gives it more sense and they had to change it to align with their script)

Thank you for sharing delicious parts from the novel :D I'll share the spinoff in Korean with you as soon as I save the copy!

[instantpansies]

#I DID NOT SEE THIS REBLOG WITH LOCO × CLARISSA AND OMG SJSJSJ#THIS IS SO COOL OP#YOUR BRAIN IS HUGE#i love the concept of the silver line being created by clarissa as an escape from her (probably) not so fun real life#and then becoming little by little a nightmare that she cant escape#UGHHH THIS IS BEAUTIFUL#“be careful of what you wish for” or something something#i can imagine the first time a child got trapped on the silver line#at first clarissa would be happy to have someone else#and maybe she would think that this child didnt have a happy life at home and Loco kinda save them by making them hope on the silver line#and she wouldn't think more of it#but then the child disappeared and a new wagon was suddenly here#she would ask Loco if he knew where the child went but he wouldnt say anything#hed juste smile ominously#and then more children would materialise only to disappear after some times#and more wagons or staff members would appear#and clarissa would finally accept what she had been thinking all this time deep down#but never wanted to actually believe it#that the silver line was now made of all of these children#and that her turn would soon come#AAAHHHH THIS IS SO COOL#I WOULD WATCH THAT MOVIE#okay im done rambling haha#shoot from the hip#strange noise from the hole in the wall

^ @marabout2772 PREVVVV YOUR TAGS THANK YOUUUI <333 I CANT PASS UP A CHANCE TO RAMBLE ABOUT MY STRANGE NOISES HCS!!!

aghghg you're so right, that first kid must have been such a shock. she would've been so excited to have some company - who knows how long it had been at that point - but she has to watch them realize they're trapped, or break the news herself (even if she doesn't know they'll become a part of the train, she knows there's no way to get off). and she sees them slowly slip into despair and maybe they start to hate her and loco and someday they just. disappear. and there's a new car on the train. AND AUGHH YOU'RE SO RIGHT SHE WOULD ASK LOCO AND HE WOULD JUST SMILE AND SAY NOTHING BUT SHE'D KNOW SHE'D KNOW!!! and when the next kid comes around she'd hope it was just an anomaly but the same thing happens again and again and finally she has to accept that it's her nightmare that's consuming them, it's her fault they're here, and she isn't even allowed to share their fate,,,,,,she just has to watch, helpless, as these people who start out so friendly and hopeful are made to suffer and then just become another forgotten part of the world. and she can't do a thing about it.

man. augh. what makes it worse is she's a CHILD a child who only wanted to escape from her boring or difficult or scary life. "be careful what you wish for", but she was just a little girl when she wished she could live in a magical world where she was never alone, where she was always making new friends. where the wonderful train ride never had to end. how could she possibly have known she'd end up trapped in that wish? living out countless lifetimes where she couldn't even see her old life change beyond recognition, only learning about the outside by the others who brought tales of unfamiliar machines and strange societies and music she couldn't have imagined. in the end they all disappear. maybe in a year, maybe in a decade, maybe she doesn't even keep track of time anymore. and she's alone again with her doomed dreams - and the being she unknowingly forced into the same world she'd trapped herself in. she was so young when she wished to escape, and now she is unbelievably old and doesn't know how she could ever have been so naive.

RHGHEGRGR AND SHE KNOWS THE SAME FATE WILL COME TO HER EVENTUALLY!!!! but it's arriving so slowly it feels cruel. every few years she wakes up and another joint has locked up. her voice sounds a bit more like a train whistle. her spine begins to curl inward - slowly, slowly, so slowly locomotion always looks confused when she brings it up. she almost believes she's imagining it. but someday loco will be the only one on the train - finally she will join the nightmare and loco will drive her and the hundreds of souls she trapped into that endless nothing. benjamin was supposed to be the last one, shoveling coal for eternity, feeding the silver line until he couldn't remember anything else. it was sheer luck that benjamin wasn't trying to escape his family. that they cared enough to follow him in and pull him out.

clarissa hasn't seen something so kind in thousands of years.

ANYWAYS UMMMM UHHH THANKS IM GLAD U LIKED MY POST!!! back to the corner i go

top sfth couples/ships bc it's 2:49am and im thinking about them again

oopsie daisies (marianne and jacques, oopsie daisy bulge). idk if anyone else calls them that but they're my oopsie daisies and i love them so much. if oopsie daisies have 100 fans im one of them if oopsie daisies have 1 fan it's me if oopsie daisies have 0 fans im dead. they make me ill. handsome butch mayor and her pretty scientist husband.....they love their town and their kraken and ethically dubious transhumanism!!!!! and i am patting them both on the head and tucking them in. i am making this post so i can ramble about them but it felt weird to just do that so i made it a list. they're childhood friends to lovers, marianne definitely got all embarrassed giving jacques flowers after school, they prob graduated and were friends for a while and then decided "wait duh of course we're gonna get married" so they dated for a while and then marianne ran for mayor so they waited on the wedding until after she won and then they honeymooned the next town over bc they couldn't bear to stay away from le bulge for more than two weeks and they bicker and marianne brags about being the mayor and pretends to know what jacques is talking about when he's explaining his genetics work. and they're always working together bc jacques' tech is their main line of defense and she sits on his lap during briefings and all 12 of the other residents are a little annoyed when they enter a room both bc marianne is kind of bossy and needs total focus when she's addressing a room and bc jacques is just staring at her and zoning out and thinking about cell division the whole time. and jacques probably only sustained mild injuries from that gunshot wound so he's fine. he's fine and he definitely didn't die. because that would be silly and pointless. but marianne THINKS he's dead or dying so she harnesses her grief and rage to literally snap the neck of the king of england and tbh i think that's very sexy of her. what am i talking about again

pergephone (persephone and geoff, wild wet and worrisome). i love their dynamic so much, the pining is both silly and very earnest, and i have a bunch of headcanons about what happens when geoff leaves but feels like there's something missing....i like them very much. especially if persephone has some monstrous stuff going on, like huge sea beast or fanged and clawed siren. that's the shit.

ditch (derek and titch, the unrelenting aubergine). derek i love you so much, never stop being yourself. it's requited unrequited, it's got drama and pacing, it's sweet and hits home. what more could u want (except maybe a half mime half giant octopus)? they're the most popular ship in this fandom for a reason. and i concur. titch struggling with his feelings, derek setting boundaries and giving titch time to work out his shit on his own, margaery doing her best to sort out their drama. wonderful

[wahgifs]

are you asking me...to marry you? love in the air special episode

[akeemarcus]

He stared at him for a handful of seconds, gauging his reaction before his shoulders lifted and fell into a casual shrug, letting it go. ❝ Alright. ❞ He wasn't sure he believed him, drawing all sorts of wrong conclusions, like maybe he had a crush on Isla or something . . . but he wasn't bothered by it, either. He was, surprisingly, not a jealous person. Not when it came to the living.

❝ Sorry, man. I know that's not what you wanted to hear. ❞ Kingston knew it wasn't comforting, but anything else would be a lie. And while he was clearly capable of dishonesty, he wasn't a path logical liar or anything ; just a dumb kid in over his head. ❝ If it's any consolation, I think it just makes it mean more . . . when there's something to lose. ❞ Of course, everyone had different stakes, he could never explain how much was actually on the line with him. Maybe if he could, it would make Thomas' reasons seem less suffocating. Or maybe he would just instantly hate him.

❝ We're friends, ain't we? ❞ He knew as he said it that it wasn't entirely true ; though he appeared to be a social butterfly, Kingston didn't have friends, not really. A friend to all was a friend to none. It was hard to be close to people when they could never know you and he, Marcus, had always been more of a loner. He wanted to be loved, he craved appreciation like oxygen, but he did not care to be surrounded by people. Still, he liked Thomas enough — he liked all of them here, perhaps some ( Isla ) more than others, he cared about their well beings. But what did that matter, when he had cared about Luke's, too?

I was like his fuckin' pet or something. The words, though meant to be about himself, felt like a slap to Kingston's face. That was how he had acted, wasn't it? Like a stray dog following him around, lost the moment his owner was gone, not knowing what he was meant to do . . . who he was meant to be. He had practically worshiped the ground Luke walked on, let his charm win people over for him ; he did anything and everything he was asked without question, as if there was no reason to doubt him, no reason to take a step back and wonder what Luke was getting out of their friendship. He longed to be seen as his equal so much he was willing to give a life, though not his own, for it. Now, he drew a ragged breath, the air around them seeming to drop ten degrees with new realizations.

❝ He was my best friend, you know, ❞ he spoke after a moment, the words so genuine they felt heavy in a different way. ❝ First real friend I ever made. Well. I thought he was, anyway . . . guess I was a pretty shitty one, too. ❞ Arguably worse ; would Luke have gone looking for him, had he been missing? He didn't know . . . he didn't know which answer was worse. When he spoke again, a strange tone took over his voice, like a warning, his eyes trained on the distance, seeing something that wasn't there. ❝ It sucks, doesn't it? — When people don't turn out to be who you thought they were. ❞

AT KINGSTON'S QUESTION , thomas's head flew up , a heated flush crawling up his neck and dampening his features in a scarlet humiliation . " w-what ?? NO , man — god . fuckin' hell , i'm just — i'm not trying to say anything . " tom heaved a sigh , pushing his hand through his hair — fisting his curls , only to hiss in response to the agonizing irritation of the gash still tacky on the back of his skull .

thomas swallowed down the man's words , let them fester in his gut like a brewing sickness , and crinkled his brows as he moved the pad of his thumb to his clenched teeth . his bite found his cuticle , beginning to gnaw at it ferociously , his other arm wrapping around his torso to offer his bent elbow a post of stability . " there's no way someone doesn't get hurt , " thomas echoed , shaking his head , as if the response wasn't to his satisfaction and he was hoping — praying — for the man to say anything else .

thomas didn't necessarily believe in happy endings , but he was hoping there was some reality in which he and eliza got out of the predicament they were in unscathed . that camille would accept them , their connection , with open arms , minimal questions , and little restraint . little resistance . it was a fantastical concept meant to ease his own guilt , but kingston's words struck like a metal spear — a reminder that there was no way to get to the other side of this without someone , without camille , being there to break his fall .

" i dunno , " the man shrugged , frowning at the blanket of soot-caked grass . " there's just , " thomas sighed . " there's this girl , i uh , i met her , , , , back home , " not a lie . " — that's why i'm askin' . SHE'S why i'm askin' . and i don't know if you know this but my only friend , that isn't my sister , turned out to be a demonic shit bag . though , now that i'm fuckin' thinkin' about it , i don't think he was ever my fuckin' friend to begin with . i was like his , , , his fuckin' pet or something . " rambling now , thomas cleared his throat , finally prying his thumb from his mouth to drop his chin to his sternum ; " god , i don't even know what i'm talkin' about . i need a fuckin' smoke . "

[thecityofdoors]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOLIDER!!!!!

[gu6chan]

the brief mention that 1.3 leonard could still be feeling some deep lingering grief over his brothers' deaths still never fails to fascinate me tbh like, does he think of the standards he must have lost since their passing and feel guilt? or does he see them in every child he abuses??? does he keep his grief to himself or does he find it a useful anecdote to what must be a countless number of families dealing with loss??? does the green dragon know? does he confide in it????? since leonard seems to be aware of what arioch lost to the union, just how aware is/was she in what HE lost???????? did they have a role in each other's loss? is THAT where their beef came from??????? im going to merge into a wall

[lokissweater]

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

[dandelionsresilience]

Just in case Trump wins:

right after Trump was elected in 2016, suicidality skyrocketed. If you’re considering suicide in the wake of the election this year, at least wait until after it’s absolutely certain that he’s won - after every vote has been counted, every state certified, and maybe even after he’s been sworn in (IF he wins), just to make sure he doesn’t go to prison instead. Watch the results come in live here, but don’t obsess or let them sway your vote. (To be clear, I don’t want a single person to commit suicide over the election results, no matter what. But I know from experience that “don’t do it” is thoroughly unhelpful, so instead I’m saying at least wait.)

if you’re considering suicide because you fear worsening material conditions, you might think a hotline can’t help with that. and it’s true that they can’t change legislation or promise you’ll be safe. but it’s worth double checking whether what you’re actually hurting from is in fact unfixable. right now, just getting through the emotions can help you regain a more objective view of the situation, and then you can work on surviving it. plus, when something bad happens, we tend to vastly overestimate how bad it will seem in the future, no matter how bad it actually is.

In my experience, it might take a few tries before you find a hotline that picks up, either because they’re so busy, or they’re closed at that time, or they simply don’t serve your location or demographic, so under the thingy I’ve listed more than just the same handful that tend to show up on other websites. Even if you’re not actively suicidal, you can talk to them about your hard feelings, ask for material resources, or just vent to a compassionate listener.

FIND HELP

HopeLine - call/text: 877-235-4525

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline - call/text: 988 | chat

Crisis Text Line - text HOME to 741741 | chat

help getting out of the military

for underrepresented adults:

Thrive Lifeline - text THRIVE to 313-662-8209

for pre-teens, teens, and young adults:

Your Life Your Voice - call: 800-488-3000 | text VOICE to 20121 | email

for teens (limited hours):

Teen Line - call: 800-852-8336 | text TEEN to 839863 | email

for trans and questioning people:

Trans Lifeline - call: 1-877-565-8860

for people with substance dependency:

Never Use Alone Overdose Prevention Hotline - call: 877-696-1996

for BIPOC (“with an LGBTQ+ Black Femme Lens”):

BlackLine - call: 1-800-604-5841

for college students of colour:

The Steve Fund Crisis Text Line - text STEVE to 741741

for LGBTQ+ young people:

The Trevor Project - call: 1-866-488-7386 | text START to 678678 | chat

for homeless or runaway youth:

National Runaway Safeline - call/text: 1-800-786-2929 | (has chat and email, but I think the link includes tracking)

for Muslim youth (limited hours):

Naseeha Youth Hotline - call: 1-866-627-3342

Amala Hopeline - call: 1-855-952-6252

for Jewish queer youth (warmline, may take up to 24 hours to reply):

JQY Warmline - call/text: 551-579-4673

for veterans:

Veterans Crisis Line - call: 988, option 1 | text: 838255 | chat

for veterans and their families:

Lifeline for Vets - call: 888-777-4443

for pregnant people:

Crisis Pregnancy Hotline - call: 888-628-3353 | text: 714-448-8323

for parents unsure of their ability to care for a newborn:

National Safe Haven Alliance - call: 888-510-2229 | text SAFEHAVEN to 313131

International Council for Helplines Member Organisations

Warmlines - for emotional support, if you just need to talk; a lower level of support than crisis hotlines

NAMI Helpline directory

Key warmline directory (unclear if 317-550-0060 might also be a warmline, I haven’t tried it)

Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line (limited hours) - call: 888-407-4515