#YEY ITS HERE!!!!

[hoshinasblade]

second best |2| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2.5K trigger warnings: author's note: hello, reposting the part 2 because of hiccups from saturday when i posted it first (tumblr blocked my blog lol). likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated but please do not copy or steal my works. in celebration of this blog reaching 100 followers recently, i have written a bonus part 3 which will be posted within this week. my taglist form is here, and feel free to let me know your thoughts by sending me an ask through here. using my degree correctly by writing hoshina fanfics yes

you aren't sure when things changed between you and hoshina soshiro.

when you were young, you would have understood that he didn't have the attention span to deal with you. he wasn't exactly shy, but you wouldn't call him friendly too - unlike you, who has taken it upon herself to be friends with all the children in the small neighbourhood. unfortunately for you, only the hoshina brothers are at the same age as you are, and at that time you thought that was a sign that fate was giving - you ought to be close to them.

you won't deny that you were fonder of the hoshina brothers than anyone when you started school. if you are being honest, you like them more than any of your expensive dolls or toys. being an only child, you thought it was only natural to want someone to be with - to want someone to share things with.

the brothers would have their endless training sessions every day, and though you did not know how to swing a sword then, you insisted to your parents - and theirs - that you must join them. sometimes you would be sitting on the floor just watching them, and frequently you would be the one keeping count of the score between soshiro and soichiro when they spar.

soshiro has never won a single match against his brother when they were kids.

but you didn't mind. you still preferred him over soichiro.

in fifth grade, you bought him the biggest cake your meagre savings could buy. it wasn't much really, but you won't forget how wide his eyes went when you lighted the candles and sang him the happy birthday song albeit out of tune. the next year, you gifted him a small keychain - a teddy bear in a purple kimono. you never saw him use it.

it wasn't until years after that you worked out what your feelings for him were. the girls from your class would make small talk and ask if you have a boyfriend now and then. you would say no all the time. at sixteen, you felt like you didn't need to be in a relationship - because you have soshiro, you said to yourself - and that was when it hit you.

every time soshiro would talk to you after that, you would peek in your little compact mirror, worried he had miraculously discovered your secret, afraid that maybe your face had given it away. he caught you doing that once, and he accused you of attempting to be pretty for him.

"is it me ye're trying to be cute for?" he volunteered to carry your bag on your way home but you declined. you didn't want to start assuming things; you knew he was just being nice.

"ya wish," you deflected effectively.

"well, whoever it is for, they're in for some trouble", he commented, and you chose not to read too much in his words. you realized how the walk to your house always seemed to be shorter when you were with soshiro.

when you turned eighteen, you asked your mom what it meant to be in love. she was the last person you had wanted to ask - your parents had broken their perfect marriage not long ago, your father choosing to abandon your mother and you. soshiro taught you the basics of kendo during those hard months. "i'll even let ya beat me", he said to you.

"it's when you care for them so much that you will go as far as to let them go because you wanted them to be happy," your mother answered.

soshiro did not have the decency to say goodbye when he left himeji. you wanted to celebrate with him, and it wasn't like you weren't familiar with his plans to move after graduation. you used to stay up late with him, and inevitably the conversation would steer to his dream of getting out of your town. he would say that it's to expand his horizons - for his growth - but you like to give yourself some credit because you know him too well to simply believe that. you can tell that he needs a place to stretch his wings and be the best - somewhere he can be better than his brother.

and maybe you are really your mother's daughter - you let hoshina soshiro go because you thought it would make him happy.

"vice-captain, platoon leader said ye're needed at operations." you saluted and walked inside his office. "get yer ass in there, were the exact words actually," you added, intending it to be a joke.

soshiro didn't even look up from the file he had been staring at since you came in. he's been like this for days after you were sworn in the defense force. you would bump into him in the hallways of the training building or sit at the same table with him for lunch, and he wouldn't speak to you at all. if you didn't know better, you would think that finally, after all these years, he is now aware of your feelings. but that would be impossible, because not only the other recruits would not dare to rat you out, but also because soshiro would not be acting this way if he knew.

"v-vice captain?" you repeated.

soshiro hummed. "i heard ya the first time, officer," he said, his glance on you so cold you felt it from where you stood. it wiped off the smile you were wearing that morning.

"ya can go," he said once more after he noticed you didn't move. "or d'ya need anything else from me?"

"no, vice-captain." you were almost out of the door when you remembered something else. "one more thing, hoshina-san," you faced him again, the way you said his last name soft against your own lips. "soichiro-kun will be visiting again tomorrow so we can go to himeji together -"

"do ya belong to the sixth division?" soshiro cut you off. "i didn't know ya transferred."

"i - i'm not -" you were still trying to look for the appropriate response when he interrupted you again.

"then why are ya spending so much time with him? d'ya wanna move to his jurisdiction?" soshiro is standing now, whatever he was reading earlier long forgotten.

it was difficult to reconcile this distant man in front of you with the boy you used to chase after during your childhood days. the one who would bring you an extra boxed lunch because you told him before that his bento tastes so much better than yours. the boy you fell in love with. you had both grown up, and taken different paths at a time, yes, but you did not expect to struggle so badly to find common ground with him. "im sorry, vice-captain, i'll be off now." it felt like a huge chasm had opened in the middle of the room that determined to keep the two of you worlds apart. you turned to leave, and you heard him mutter something.

"if ya wanted to keep going on dates with my brother, ya shouldn't have gone here."

there is only one thing sharper than his katana and it is hoshina soshiro's mouth.

pain swirled inside you, threatening to spill over. when you couldn’t keep the turmoil in any longer, you snapped.

"what is yer problem?!" your pitch reached a high octave that soshiro was shocked at the outburst. "did i do anything? cause yer being mean, soshiro," you pressed on, stepping closer to him. it didn't escape him how you dropped the title off his name, and the honorifics, too. he was about to respond, but you didn't give him the chance. "look, i know yer not on good terms with soichiro-kun, but he’s my friend."

"like i needed to be reminded." sarcasm coated his retort. "ya know what? ya can marry the guy and i won't even care. do whatever ya want", he said, dismissing you in a harsher tone

your forehead scrunched and your eyebrows met in confusion. "what are ya talkin' about? no one is getting married -"

soshiro's laugh was bitter. you recoiled at the offensive sound. "i'm not the one going around telling everyone she's in love with soichiro-kun.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you were suddenly afraid that this conversation is unfolding into something else entirely. “i never said that,” you protested. “i never told anyone i was in love with him. i don’t know where you’re getting this from.”

soshiro’s expression remained stoic and unreadable. “i heard you say it at the izakaya”, he murmured.

breath was knocked out of your lungs and panic started to rise within you. “i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you repeated. you tried to rewind every second of what happened in the party thrown for the new officers nearly a month ago. everyone was drinking and having a good time after the sworn-in ceremony. commander ashiro and the vice-captain had to leave ahead. your fellow newbies grilling you on your history with hoshina soshiro.

“save it.” hurt was evident in soshiro’s voice; his eyes glimpsed at you briefly, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher flicker. soshiro’s expressionless mask faltered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. although you don’t have a clue how he would have heard it when he went with commander ashiro that night, the desire to straighten things out overtook you.

for a split second, the burden of the truth hangs heavily on your tongue. you gave in to the desperation.

“i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you reiterated, hoping he would understand this time. “because it’s you i’m in love with.”

there were multiple occasions in the past where you almost admitted what he meant to you; you had pictured a thousand scenarios in your head where you declared your love, but all of them did not include the part where soshiro would respond.

you thought confessing would ease the ache in your heart, but it was the opposite. "i didn't know how to tell ya, and that's my fault. but how could i? ya didn't even bother to say goodbye to me when ya left home." it was taking everything of you to hold your tears back, and ignoring the obvious tremble in your voice, you continued. "did ya know i taught myself how to pray after ya were gone? i thought it was the only thing i could do for ya."

"i didn't know", was all soshiro could say. he looks in distress, still grappling with your bold confession.

a loud knock on the door broke the tension. “vice-captain, they made me fetch you,” okonogi said from the hall.

“well, now ya do.” you turned away just when soshiro strode towards your direction, running after you. you were faster than him, and despite the possibility that you would be seen coming from the vice-captain’s office crying, you twisted the doorknob and ran.

it is still hot when you sit down on a bench at the rooftop of the third division's training building.  you welcomed the cool breeze, however, and you noted that at this altitude, everything from far away looks considerably smaller.

you missed two important briefings this afternoon already, and your team is most certainly searching frantically for you everywhere. you are definitely going to be scolded by your superior. yet you couldn’t bring yourself to discard the little comfort being alone had given to you, especially after such an emotional confrontation. you sighed, exhaustion slowly crawling all over you. lost in your thoughts, you did not notice the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar voice tore through the silence. the cold breeze blew, making you shiver a bit.

“hey,” soshiro called out. you freaked out, immediately looking for a space to hide at. “i already saw ya,” he let you know.

he held out a keychain in front of your face, a tiny bear in a faded purple kimono with the string attached to its head dangling from his forefinger. you recognized it instantly - you got it for him when he turned 12 years old. he sat beside you, not concerning himself with asking for your permission.

“the first few days were the hardest”, he began, and you listened. “i was too used to seeing ya every day, but when we were apart, i convinced myself i would forget how ya look like. i didn’t.” he offered the keychain to you and you took it - the bear’s fur worn out and old to your touch. “i hold that thing whenever i start to miss ya.”

shock was etched on your face and your gaze darted to him. “is it too late now to say that i love ya?” he whispered, his face mirroring the sincerity of his tone. sunlight bathed the rooftop as soshiro’s words hung in the air, leaving you breathless and stunned. you gasped. “maybe i should have told ya sooner. but i have been in love with ya for a while now.”

you leaned into his shoulder, and you quietly cried.

“i don’t think i have been anybody’s first choice in anything, so it didn’t enter my mind that ya would probably feel the same.” his hand found yours and you relished on the warmth.

“your brother advised that i tell ya, ya know?” you said between sniffles.

he chuckled. “he didn’t do an excellent job at that, did he now?”

silence ensued; his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand, your head on his shoulder still - your breathing still a mess from everything that has been said. “i’m sorry i hurt ya. let me spend my whole life making it up to ya,” he proposed. the promise made your heart skip a beat.

for the first time in a long time, you gave him a smile - the one you have reserved just for him, the one you made sure to convey everything you wanted to tell him. there are a lot of other things you feel the need to ask him, but this will suffice for now. this is more than you ever had in your whole life.

“i can’t believe we wasted so much time dancing around our feelings. that one time i wanted to hit one of our classmates because he was being pushy with ya, d’ya remember that?” he reminisced. “anyone can have everything in the world, and the only time i would crack is if it is ya being taken away from me.”

all your dreams pale in comparison to your reality now.

out of the blue, you heard soshiro giggle. “does this mean ya were telling the newbies that night that it was me ye’re into?” he stared at you, and you can’t help but see him as the little boy you grew up with. this is the man i love, you said to yourself. you squeezed his hand.

you didn’t respond. all you know is the color of your cheeks surely rivals the pink of the skies as the both of you watch the sun sets.

[cosmique-oddity]

Music. I love music its very important for me and you guys dont even imagine how happy i am when i find "the one" who work insanely well with the idea i have of a character.

So now im just going to ramble about Mecha AU and characters and playlist.

Particulary Theme Songs >:D

Here we go

Vortex : Psycho Killer.

Yeaaaay i already shared this idea but i think the messy lyrics that doesnt rhyme and the fact that the singer seems to do drugs in the middle of the song fits Vortex. Its funny to hear that apparently it sound like the singer is yelling at himself. I can imagine Vortex alone in a room, yelling. And the others are confused and go in that room, having the idea of saving the poor people that cross the path of Vortex. But there is no one. Vortex is yelling at his reflection in a mirror. Also all the things about not being able to be relaxed. Cigarette do that. Its stressful.

"Run run run ruuun awayyy".

First Aid : *mischievously* No >:)

First Aid : Red Flags

Dont tell me this situation never happened with someone who was trying to date Felix before and thought he was just sweet and a kind medic. Forget the end. The random ran away and yelled. And i like the pairing Red Flags x Psycho Killer. Fits.

Swindle : Watch me Work/Figure n°9

Watch me Work is how people percieve Swindle. Well sort of. Its the struggle that are not very internal and personal. Its things that people can imagine about him. And i like the energy U.U

FIGURE N°9 ??? AAAOOHHH how can i convert you to my vision. Extracts time ! :

"But didn't realize instead of setting it free

I Took what I hated and made it a part of me"

Satisfied ? OK heres another :

"I can't separate myself from what I've done

Giving up a part of me

I've let myself become you".

HAH *gasp* first time i checked the lyrics i gasped. Thats Swindleeeee !!! Thats him. Talking to the hypothetical person who had his job before him.

Onslaught : In the End

Linkin Park being the theme song of the Combaticons fr. I think like all the things he tried, just failed. That all the things that happened, Vortex Death, Swindle changing post and losing himself into politics and faux semblants, Brawl and Blast Off leaving the base. Yeah.

Blast Off : Nobody's Listening.

LINKIN PARK AGAIN YEAH. Blast off is that silenced voice. He is quite quiet. And the real person that silence him, is himself. Then how do you wish for peoples to listen to you when you dont give yourself the chance to be listened at ?

Shockwave : The Line/Sing for Absolution

I have a lot of feelings about this, The Line song and Shockwave & Orion.

"Keep the memories of who i was before"

WHO DARED WRITING THIS LINE ????

Just listen to the other lyrics but hey trust me it kinda WORKS. Shockwave talking to Orion.

Also Sing of Absolution is for the case where Shockwave loved Orion.

Orion : Army Dreamers

Well yeah he died. *trying not to cry, lay down, cry a lot*.

Deadlock : Joga

"All that no-one sees

You see

What's inside of me

Every nerve that hurts

You heal

Deep inside of me

You don't have to speak

I feel"

EM field, Ratchet, healer. You know you know. You KNOW. *yell again*.

I realize im explaining myself very poorly.

Ratchet : Feeling Good.

Theres something about this song. But yes its about Deadlock. Theres a lot of version of this song (one that fit Jazz Prowl absolutely perfectly but not on Mecha AU. Michael Bublé ones)

This one, the tone of the voice being used, hoarse, match with his mental state. Tired.

But yet thats a positive song, very positive. Deadlock is giving him a new life, where he can rest a little, where he can slow down and enjoy....

And "you know how i feel". Is answering to the "You don't have to speak

I feel" of Deadlock song.

Roddy :> ! :

i made a playlist about him so i have a lot of songs. But my personal favorites are All Stars and Im Still Standing.

"You'll never shine if you dont glow"

And

"Looking like a True survivor, feeling like a little kid, im still standing".

Unkillable warrior.

Jazz : Jazzzzzzzzz. Immortals !

Immortals because "I'm bad behavior, but I do it in the best way".

And : "I try to picture me without you, but I can't

'Cause we could be immortals, immortals

Just not for long, for long"

Prowl :

hmmmmm Prowl i didnt really know. Had troubles. But there was this song about Jazz Prowl that was cool, I was Made for Lovin You

Blurr : Human

YES THIS IS SAD UUUH

LEAVE ME ALONE. I really think about Blurr like a fricking human human. I love him. Leave him alone.

<- when this is your favorite character so you absolutely cannot explain why because there is just too much emotionnal attachement towards him. But yeah go listen to the song. Its famous anyway.

Swerve : Cant Take My Eyes of You

Ah....and he tried ! Trust me he tried.

Muse version. Because muse.

@keferon this is my tribute to your amazing AU today

[khealywu]

i initially could only get a ‘new patient’ appt with a PCP in mid december, which meant i possibly??? probably??? wouldn’t be able to get any referrals or refills until then, but i managed to find the ONLY other MD accepting new patients in the area and kinda begged and Very Nice Customer Behavior-ed my way into a last minute cancellation they had this week. phew!

[kuiinncedes]

time for some shadows to be gathering 💃🏻💃🏻

[whalechief]

IT WAS JUST THE MOTHERBOARD THANK FUUUUUCK IT WASNT THE GRAPHICS CARD ;O; !! 800$ DIFFERENCE ASD;SD;F

[hoarder-of-dragons]

So it's my first time at the ER (yes shocker ik) and I just saw a man with a bandaged middle finger, a woman with every inch of her arms and covered with bandages and a stubborn man fighting to not sleep when he's on anaesthesia (Oh wait that my dad)

[eyeballs-in-my-head]

Cant wait for summer to be over so i can actually use my brain instead of it just existing as an invisible decoration

[wiiiozard]

shoutout to my mutuals .....! i hope u all have good days..yey:)

[dilf-docs]

Give Me Coffee, Utah Love

sleazy!joel 'mullet' miller x younger fem!reader

summary: on the run and looking for a fresh start, a cheap gasoline coffee and to-do list slipping from your bag later, you (have lost your mind and) consider this stranger's proposition.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (52/25), pwp, p. in v., fingering, (one) pussy spank, degradation kink, lwk breeding and exhibition kink, nasty filthy sex, public sex, one joke about kys, strangers to ???, pulled an all nighter for this yey me (its 3am and my alarm sounds at 4:10 lol) so forgive me if i made any spelling mistake, i wanna see ur comments/reblogs bc i crashed out so bad i feel like i deserve it

word count: 4,060 words

side note: that one girl who doesn't play abt snl. okay but who works harder? the devil, a7estrellas or me, that only needed two pedro snl sketches and is acting like a yuppie in the 80s doing cocaine on a bathroom after work bc WOW so many new content. yes, men with mullets should die but this is pedro! song of choice for this piece is queen of the gas station by sleazy dilf patroness lana del rey. also up next, renaldo inspired one shot to celebrate the snl 50 series! (update: read it here)

You liked driving at night.

There was simply something about the eerie silence, the shadows casting upon the streets, barely touched by the headlights and the moon, the quiet hum of the radio and the slow shift of your hands on the wheel.

You liked driving at night, but today, it feels off.

Just this morning, you had looked at your house one last time. It still had that white paint on the porch, that had faded due to the sunlight, and those scrapped stickers on what had been your childhood room's door.

He had tried talking some sense in to you, claiming all your life was there, in Arizona. With him. But Phoenix had started to feel like a prison and he was your warden. So you snuck at dawn when no one would notice, like a criminal. Very fitting.

The sun hadn't touched yet the kitchen where you ate when your feet balanced off the chair and now graced the floor in a lazy manner, eating cereal with marshmallows first and now, just about three days ago, just oatmeal, because it seemed like what a grown up would do.

But in many ways you were still the same kid who was too shy to raise her hand in class because she couldn't find her voice, bound to be forgotten among much louder and brigther kids. Yet he had seen you.

So you stayed: put up with dances where he would spin you until the world was reduced to a blur, and the quiet home life in town-- kids running around and barbecues on the summer seemed like a good ending. You dreamed of a truck and a garden, and the few friends you made all seemed to share the same vision. Except for one.

When Dorothea came back from New York, eyes too wide and smile too bright, she seemed like a different person. In many ways she still was the same girl with an accent who had shared her sandwhich with you during recess, but her words now carried ambition and her gaze seemed awoken by a purpose you couldn't find but on the road that drove out of town.

But folks kept her at arms length. The amusement in her smile was infectious as a disease, and with whispered stabs they would talk behind her back. Your friend bore a scarlett letter for wanting more.

You had never wanted more; compliant might of be your second name. But when you'd see her walk by your house, shorts above her knees and that city girl strut with her sneakers against the hot asphalt, you were envious, and Williams seemed so small and dull.

Who does she think she is? he would say, and you'd nod your head, despite the secret admiration hidden in your eyes.

Suddenly, the red truck sounded stupid and the married life with kids could wait.

We could wait, you had said outloud.

He had laughed, like you just told a joke. It was on surprise, but it felt cruel.

Why? like he couldn't understand you-- as if you spoke on a different language. What is there to wait for?

You took your decision that day.

It started slow, by wearing skirts that rode up with the wind, blaming the lack of clothes on the heat. Then with the nicotine between your lips, the forbidden act making clouds that escaped your red lips. Or wearing the other make up Dorothea taught you, now holding hands with her as people whispered she had tainted your naive soul too. He caught your new smell, and spoke harshly about not wearing clothes that made other men turn to eat out the sun-kissed skin of your legs, because you'd turn too, gaze defiant and full of mischief, but that he didn't know. Might as well wear nothin'. But he cried with his face buried in the same uncovered legs, saying he hated to see you like this; he didn't recognize you.

It was easy then.

One day you packed your bags and took the car you'd been given as a graduation gift, leaving town with what seemed a lifetime stashed in the backseat.

You left a note for your parents, neatly placed on a bed you wondered when you'd sleep again in, if you were ever to be back. To him, who you now just start to wonder if you ever really loved or just accepted because it's what there was and nothing more, you hadn't left a note nor explanations.

He wouldn't understand anyways.

Just the promise of what could've been, shining in the middle of your bed.

You had been driving non-stop, afraid like a fugitive who was being chasen. Sometimes, you'd take stops on the road and pulled out a pen and a book, despite your fingers itching from driving and your urgency to check the phone you'd been to coward to turn on to see the wake of messages your disappearance might have sparked.

There was a sting somewhere outside the ache of your bones or the flutter of your tired eyes, and it cried for home and longed for the life you always envisioned for yourself. But it also felt like a second skin you couldn't quite wash off with the cheap soap and cold water of the motel you had crashed in a couple of hours ago.

You didn't want to live in suburban desert dreams back at Williams. You wanted to feel alive.

It's nightime when the little peep sound jolts you awake. You had been driving in auto-pilot; your car needs gas and you needed rest.

Its probably ten at night, and according to your map, Utah isn't that far. It's a fresh start: a place where no one knows your name or your whole life, for the matter.

Your car comes to a stop under faded neon lights in the middle of the road. There's a truck parked next to your car, the guy inside the convenience store, and that's about it. You're filling your tank while suppressing a yawn, when a movement across your station catches your eyes.

The only other customer, a man old enough to be your dad. He's staring at you, leaning against his truck, arms crossed while the biceps flex with the position, tense. Even from your place, you can see how the veins pop here and there, making you gulp on instinct.

The smoke of his cigarrette gets lost in the neon hues and starry sky. Doesn't he know you're not supposed to do that at a gas station? Yet, his lack of care and recklessness picks your interest.

(Hey! The last time you had human contact was about a day ago and after seeing only roads, asphalt, desert and mountains, you deserved a little treat to entertain yourself)

"Like what you see, doll?" sporting the most sleazy smile you'd ever seen.

Something about him was as alluring as uneasy, the nervous tremble of your hands but the warmth between your legs speaking of said conflicting emotions. You pretend to be invested on the task of filling your truck (the reason you're here, after all) but the way your body burns, begs, to look again is humilliating. So you do, but he isn't there anymore, althought his truck is.

"You know, wearin' a dress like that at night isn't a good idea for'a girl like you"

He appears from seemingly nowhere, making you jump. Your heart flutters and you clench at nothing with the sound of his deep voice, low, akin to a rumble or a thunder. It's laced with diversion, and the not so subtle way he eats you out with his eyes like a starved man, wolfish grin on display as he leans now against your car, makes his intentions all the more clear.

"Why?" you feel oddly bold, instead of scared. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, because why the hell would you be flirting in a gas station, at night, entertaining an old and slighlty creepy albeit attractive man when you had been engaged less than a day ago?

"The weather" he appears nonchalant, balancing the cigarrette like a toothpick between his chapped lips. "Or men"

"Bold of you to say that while wearing that" you poke fun at his outfit, which consists of some shorts, worn t-shirt and a vest. He's sporting the tall socks and slippers combo, dressing like a grandpa but he pulls it off alright. "Also, men? Like who, you?"

He laughs, the sound sprouting rich and grave from his chest. It makes you dizzy. Yup, let's blame the lack of sleep again.

"Well, look at that. Sure got'a mouth on ya', doll" he gets closer, and his scent floods your nostrils. Wood, gasoline, musk, sweat and burnt ciggars. "Just takin' care of you. Say, how about ya' warm that shaky frame of yers? This place has sum coffee goin' on. Shit, but it works"

He could poison your drink for all you care, but all his teeth are on display and he's got a dimple. Also, you're fighting your fluttering eyelids in here.

"Y/n" it's your way of agreeing while extending your hand.

Instead of shaking it, he pulls you even closer and kisses it, his warm lips brushing your cold hand. You shiver at the contact, and it may be the way his firey auburn holds your gaze while doing so or how big his hands feel, both your mind and heart racing.

"Joel" he says, and then that same calloused palm finds its way to the soft part above your ass in your back, guiding you to the store.

Inside, it smells like cheap coffee and grease. You clutch your bag tighter, and choose a table as the stranger pays for your coffee, or well, Joel.

"There ya' go" and he places the hot brown liquid in front of you.

Now that he's closer and under the yellow-ish lights, you take a better look at his face. His eyes, which mock the drink in front of you. His hands, that seem to almost swallow the small cup with their size, and then his hair. God, alright. He sported a fucking mullet of all haircuts. And boy, wasn't it embarrassingly attractive? Your eyes fall towards his beard and mustache, grays sprinkled across them. But your mind and eyes alike went back to the thought of feeling the slightly greasy looking hazel strands, calling for your touch.

"Gonna take a sip or what?" and he smiles. You don't know if it's in diversion by your doze-off or because he knows why.

You had never felt this hot and bothered. Hell, not even normal hot. He had never made you feel like this, and now some fucking random skanky man was getting your panties on a twist in the middle of the road.

"I-I'm going to the bathroom" you manage to squeak out, running for your life.

Inside the stall, you splash some water into your face, as if trying to make you react. Get yourself together, you tell your reflection in the mirror, but then you're fixing your hair, and as you reach for your red lipstick you realize you left your bag back at the table. Fuck.

You get out, only to find your bag weirdly sprawled on the seat, the handles centimeters away from falling to the floor. Then, he, who you only see his sturdy back and broad shoulders, crouched down, like he's reading something, althought Joel doesn't seem the type of guy who chooses to read in his free time.

"Joel?"

And then you see it: the tiny notebook you had been scribbling on the road, looking even smaller on his grip.

Your To-do list.

It may sound stupid, but a week before leaving, you bought it: the last memory of your town and the start of your new life. At twenty-five, the concept may sound a little stupid with what you've written, but you felt your new life deserved to have space for some of those dreams or fleeting thoughts you had during class written down.

And now fucking Joel was reading it.

"Wow, doll. Ya' sure are full of surprises" he chuckles, flipping through the pages. What sounds better: killing him or yourself? Hmm, maybe throwing the burning coffee at him would suffice.

"Give me that back" you extend your rigid hand, voice clipped.

The stupid trail of decisions catches up to you. Why had you trusted a stranger that had oggled you right in front of your face? You're too starved and horny to think straight, clearly, because now he's mocking you while your face burns with red shame.

"Saved your bag from fallin' when ya' rushed outta da seat. Then this lil' thing came out" he stops on a page. "Skinny dipping. And'ere I thought you're a good girl"

"Shut up and give me that" you seethe.

"Wow, doll" Joel chuckles yet again. "don't get yer panties in a twist. If ya' wanted so, jus' ask"

You scoff at his boldness. "Excuse me?"

"Ya' heard me" he gets up from his seat, body towering over yours.

Was it hot in here? Why was your body warm all of the sudden? Was it the coffee? No, you hadn't even take a sip. Joel searches before looking at you again with a content gaze and an ugly smug grin, like he's used to having his way.

"Sex with a stranger" then searches for other, the sound of the pages the only other sound in the room, still not overpowering the one of your heart, echoing in your ears. "Sex in a bathroom"

He closes the little book and hands it back to you. You take it with force, ears burning at their tip. "So?"

"Funny" he muses. "I can help you with both"

Your head drops back against the cold wall as Joel's lips find your collarbone.

This was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Of all the decisions you've made in your life, this one is either the worst or the best. Fuck, you hadn't even arrived at Utah and could cross two things from the book.

His kiss is rushed, rough and sloppy, sucking on your lips so hard you feel them swollen and bruised. Joel's tongue then pokes inside your mouth, to taste your insides and all of you more deeply, content with the savor of your sweet mouth and gloss smeared across his own. It isn't often that he gets a chance like this: sure, casual sex is like breathing for him at this point in life, where he's made it too far without building a home for a wife. But now, here? You, this pretty young thing, the small whimpers coming out of your lips, how you squirm under his frame and groping hands that travel through a body he can't get enough of. Shit, he ain't young anymore but he's painfully hard and can't stop his task despite his aching joints and age. Joel just wants to taste all of you forever, despite the shit place and rather funny circumstances:

You both, strangers, in an dirty dark alley behind a gas station, about to fuck.

He's pressing his knee tightly between your thighs, the same one you had spotted before thanks to his shorts. His strong grip pins your hand above your head, rendering you immobile under his weight, that presses over you. Shit, you should be thinking this through and running away, but the complete submission and reckless choice makes it all the more hot.

Your throat works up soft, needy noises and Joel marvels at the sounds.

"Keep 'em comin', doll. Wanna know I'm makin' you feel good"

His lips leave lazy wet trails across your skin. The skirt of your dress is raised by his leg and pressed knee.

"Hmh, Joel-" you needily whimper.

"Shh" he swallows a moan with his mouth, "but jus' for me, doll. Keep it low, will ya'? Or want the whole place knowin' what a dirty slut ya' are? Fuckin' with da first stranger that looks yer way?"

You had never been degraded, less thought it would turn you this much on.

"Joel" you whimper his name.

He groans into your mouth, lewd tongues tangling and tasting the messy kiss with fiery passion and hate. Your fingers fist into the thick material of his vest, nails about to ruin it, but by the way his eyes darken and he smiles, Joel might be into it.

The man pulls away for breath, a string of saliva connecting you two.

His hand gropes your ass and then moves to your exposed inner thigh.

"What'a dirty girl" your fingers hook into his worn-out jeans, tugging the peaking waistband forward to you. His weight and chest push into you, "so wet and eager for this dick, you cockhungry whore"

To prove his point, his thick fingers rub your clit through the material of your panties. You tilt your head back in pleasure at the newfound sensation, and he takes the chance to mark your exposed neck and collarbone, making you moan his name when he sinks his teeth on the skin.

"All 'tis for me?" and his fingers fingers slink down to trace your folds again. Your back arches, breasts pressing against his chest. You dig your nails on his broad back, making him hiss with pleasure as you grab for support.

His rough digits slide and push your sticky panties aside, then plunge inside your pussy. You whimper quietly, the squelches of your pussy swallowing his fingers the only sound in the dark, aside from the busy road ahead. The calloused pad of his thumb circles your sensitive nub, pressing and massaging as his lips travel down to the valley of your tits.

"Wanna free this bad girls and taste 'em" he pulls down your dress, mouth practically watering at the rosy soft skin. "Fuck, doll. No bra? Ya' were lookin' for this, ain't you? Makin' the job easy. I'm just'a lucky man"

He wants to see how they bounce with each thrust, eyes darkening with the shade of lust.

"I- Fuck"

Joel's fingers thrust in and out at with a rapid pace and delicious movements you had never been pleasured before with. Now, when he curls them? That nearly sends you over the edge, reaching a spot you had never known existed.

"S'tight" he groans at your clenching warm sticky walls, fingers slowing but still moving as you ride out your high, drenching him in your liquids.

"Found sum sugar for that shit tastin' bitter coffee, eh?" he takes his own fingers on his mouth and sucks on them with a rather obscene gesture, taking them out with a loud pop. His tongue licks what's left off, and you whimper at the lewd image. "Yer too sweet, doll. Can't get 'nough"

Your arms wrap around him, as Joel rolls his hips, seeking friction to relieve him of the uncomfortable strain against the denim.

"Ready to take me in, doll? I'll just warn ya' somethin'" his free hand unbuckles his belt and tugs down the jeans and boxers down, dick in display: hard, and leaking with precum. He drags his teeth against your ear, and his hot breath ghosts over you with coffee and ciggars. "See that? Think ya' can take it?"

The tuft of sweaty hair leading down to his length has you salivating, and your fingers wrap around him before you realize it. Joel winces at the touch.

"Like a champ" and you swear his erection throbs in your palm, head angry and needy.

What a gentleman.

He doesn't wait for more words, teasing your moist folds with his tip before he's inside, buried to the hilt, rough fingers steady bruising your hips as he thrusts you up against the wall. You look up at the flickering lampost, wondering how did you ever made it here and what the hell are you doing, his groans deep inside your ear as his head is buried in the crook of your neck, labored breaths against your ablazed skin. For a moment, he looses the spot and favors looking at you, to take in the sight infront of him: mouth slightly gaped open, eyes lidded, and fingers desperately digging into his back. You're fucked out of your mind, but so is he.

"Like what you see?" you mimick his words from earlier. He lets out a dry and labored chuckle.

"I do"

He snaps his hips, and you're not sure what is it that creaks, too many things happening outside (the cars, the whiff of gasoline, the nocturnal wind). Joel soon takes up an erratic pace. He's so deep in you, his balls slams into your pussy with each thrust he forces into you.

You should start writing more things on that notebook if they would become true and as good as this. Earn a ridiculous sum of money for free, for example.

Joel grunts, hands busy holding you against the wall, but he so badly wants to play with your bouncy tits, so you let out a yelp when his wet tongue rolls over the skin, mouth then sucking the skin until it's bruised, kissing lazily around your hardened nipples until teeth bite on them.

He's going insane; should go more often late night driving if he'd end up fucking pretty naive sweet-tasting girls behind alleys.

His cock fills you so perfectly it doesn't take long before your walls are spasming around his cock, and you're about to cum for a second time, before on his fingers now over his girth inside of you. Joel can sense it, so his filthy mouth goes for it:

"Go on, doll. Show me what yer made of"

You fall apart with a sharp cry, face buried into his shoulder with a bite to muffle it.

He groans as the pleasure rolls through you. "Milk me dry, c'mon. Take all of ma' seed like the slut ya're" Joel speaks while moving inside you, deeper and quicker, aching for release. Then he's pulsing, cumming with a harsh grunt. "Don't waste a drop, doll. I know you're considerate jus' like that"

His hands slide down to your waist, his long hair drenched, sticking to his forehead. There's the silence of the night and your breaths as you try to compose yourselves.

"That's a good girl" while softnening cock still inside you.

"See? Told you: took you like a champ" you pant, trying not to think of what lead you to now, just focused on the high. "I like to keep my promises"

Joel laughs, but its a soft sound; light. It caresses your chest like a wind chime.

He then pulls out, your folds a mess and his dick coated with your juices. "Shit, look at ya' hungry pussy, doll. Wore me the fuck out"

You help him pull up his pants, looking at the socks while you contain a laugh. Then you think again and the alley pulls you out of your post sex haze. Yeah, filling those two checkboxes in your To-do list will feel good as fuck, but:

Now what?

"Joel?"

"Hmh?"

He pulls up your dress to cover your tits when the wind brushes through the alley, with a weird softness to him, then fixes your panties, giving your clothed pussy a weak slap that sends a shiver through your body.

"Thanks for the treat. I'ont remember orderin' desert"

You laugh as you push him off your body, refusing to meet his eyes. This is the second man who has seen you naked, and while definitely not good at words, his wolf-like hunger in his brown eyes and needy mouth besides the hard dick have said more than enough. Besides, it's a little late to be embarrased but you're still trying to process this wild huge leap you took to celebrate the start of your new life.

"Drive safe" you mutter, starting to walk away, thinking how the hell you'll survive the two hours left in the orad with such a sticky pair of panties and sweaty body.

"Where you goin'?" his deep voice stops you before you've reached the end of the alley.

"Utah" you answer in a beat, heart beating dangerously fast.

The same sleazy smile from the first time you saw him adorns his handsome face, all teeth in display.

"Really, doll? Well, lucky you" he lights up a cigarrette, trail of smoke condensing in anticipation. "'Cause that's jus'bout where I'm headed"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

[fstarnd1sco]

spent four days raging like a fucking lunatic

[geralallfandoms]

hi hi. could i request mark sloan x a reader that survived the plane crash? mark stopped fighting because lexie died, so something with him surviving bc the person he loved did so he has something to fight for would be so good. preferably w a happy ending or fluffy!! other than that up 2 u! love ur writing :)

Another requests yey🕺 omg I love the idea!! Please tell me if you like It , if it's what you expected or if you would like me to change something! I would really love to hear your opinion and if you liked it!!🫂 Tysm, I hope you enjoy it!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

°The selfish man°

TW: Blood, wounds, plane crash, death, shock, spoiler. (I hope I didn't forget anything)

Song I heard while writing this:

It all happened too soon.

From one moment to the next, laughter turned into screams, happiness into fear, tranquility into silence. In less than a few seconds the path of history had completely changed.

Most of those on that plane were unable to understand in time what had happened. In the blink of an eye, nature surrounded them.

After the great sound of the machines, after the plane fell onto the green grass, after it dragged itself along, taking with it trees and everything else in its path, silence reigned again.

While some were still unconscious, others were already aware of their surroundings.

The sky was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Everything was confusing, and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing your surroundings, so you couldn't understand why you were in a forest.

You could see movement at your side, you slowly tilted your head to see how Christina moved things, maybe she was looking for something. You didn't know. You didn't know why you were in the woods, still sitting in an airplane seat.

"Reader! Hey! Hey- can you hear me?! React!" Christina screamed over and over again in your voice. The shock and adrenaline kept her alert and energized, but you couldn't understand her, you couldn't hear her.

After a while, you saw how she simply walked away from you and walked towards Meredith, who was sitting on the floor, a few meters away from where you were.

While everyone else seemed to be 100% sure of where they were or what had happened, you struggled to maintain consciousness.

But the darkness, the whispers telling you to stop fighting, got the better of you, and you decided to relax.

___________________________________________

You wished that the hand touching your shoulder and your face was your mother's, that she had simply come to let you know that breakfast was ready, that in a few minutes they would go to the beach to spend the day.

But when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw were worried faces. Faces of... your friends?

"Reader...hey hey here I am...do you know who I am? Can you talk?" Dereck asked while holding your face in his hands.

"She's fucking deaf..." Christina said as she pointed to your bloody ears.

You wanted to tell them that you weren't completely deaf, that you could hear them faintly, but that the pain didn't let you think, speak.

Pain?

"We can't get her out of that chair..." The blonde girl said...Meredith?

You tried to understand what they were talking about, and why their faces looked so scared, but you just tried to relax, not panic. Although really, you were terrified of knowing what they were talking about, of looking down at where the pain was coming from.

Tears were pooling in your eyes and all you could think about was Mark. Where was he? What had happened to his seat, which was next to you. What had happened to Lexie, who was in front of you.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours? You didn't know. But you were conscious enough to realize that you were still in the airplane seat, with your seatbelt on, that you were in what was left of the plane, that you had an iron rod going through your stomach, that your ears hurt, that you couldn't move or feel your left leg, on the same side that the bar was, you could now tell that night had already fallen, that Meredith, Christina and Derek were near you, with a campfire.

You could now tell that Mark wasn't there. You couldn't see him anywhere.

"Ma-mark..." You said in a whisper, but loud enough for Derek to hear.

"You can't do this to her. You can't do this to your girl. Mark! You have to react. She has a fucking bar running from side to side of her body, she may not feel her legs, but she's awake. She's been awake for four hours, she's fighting. You can't leave her." Derek told Mark, who had refused to leave Lexie alone, who had died in front of him a few minutes ago.

"I can't leave her...Derek please...it's little Lexie..." He said trying not to look where you are.

"I know it's not easy but, fuck... I know you're not going to like it but someone has to tell you. She doesn't feel anything anymore, she doesn't suffer anymore, okay? You can let her rest, we'll give her a burial...Mark, it's Reader. Your Reader. She's suffering there, alone, she doesn't know what's going on, she hasn't spoken in four hours, she's disoriented and in shock...you can't do that to your girl..." Derek said before turning around and walking away.

"I'm here..." Mark said, who upon hearing your voice, quickly stood up and approached you. "My girl...you're okay, I'm with you..."

Mark had a bandage on his arm, and one on his torso. Because after thinking about what Derek had told him, he couldn't help but approach where Reader was. Because when he saw her awake, looking at the sky, calm, fighting to remain conscious, he knew he couldn't do that to her.

He knew he couldn't let himself die. He couldn't leave her alone. He knew she was fighting for him and it would be too selfish of him not to do the same

So he turned around and walked over to the others, confessed the pain in his chest and let them help him. He decided to keep fighting for her.

"A-are yo-you...oka-okay?" It was the first complete sentence you had managed to say all day.

Mark couldn't help but smile as he saw how, even in the condition you were in, you cared more about him than yourself.

"I'm fine honey...don't worry. Don't get stressed okay? I'll stay with you..." He said moving your hair from your face while his other hand slowly took yours.

"Thank you...f-for...ke-keep fighting..." You said, caressing his hand.

Mark was speechless.

"I know...I know something's not right...I-I can see it on your face..." You took a deep breath and continued. "I know you...I know th-that you are tired...but you are still here..." You said between ragged breaths, trying to ignore the pain.

"I will never be able to understand how you manage to guess everything... my sweetness, I am so sorry..." Mark said as he approached you until your foreheads were touching. "I've been selfish...but I won't leave...I promise..."

And Mark kept his promise, because days later, when rescue finally arrived, Mark was still with you, watching over your fever, your breathing, feeling every beat of your heart.

Because even though he had lost little Lexie that day, even though darkness and death had clouded his thoughts, he couldn't abandon you. And he never would again.

He never abandoned you. Not when you had to get hearing aids to hear better, or when you had to go to your therapies to regain mobility in your leg. He was always there.

And would be for the rest of his life.

°

°

°

And that's all! I hope you liked it! Remember that I'm delighted to read your opinions!!🫂

[dragonshoardofworks]

Reincarnation Everlasting Trio Part 1 (DPxDC)

(I started this when my idle brain was disassociating on a job that I don't dislike but my boss is an ass, so go me, yey!)

And look at that! I managed to finish Part 1 just in time for Valentine's day!

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Prompt: TUE happened (the timeline is a bit messed up, tho, so not everything followed the number of the episodes), but Clockwork didn't reverse the second explosion.

Danny, not wanting history to repeat itself, fakes his death along with his family and friends in the Nasty Burger and after ransacking the lab plus destroying the Portal (& FentonWorks since he's making it look like it was a full Ecto-filter's fault), he gtfo.

Danny's pretty done with life, but since he's a halfa, he's functionally immortal, so the only way to get "eternal sleep" is something similar to Pariah's sarcophagus.

But contrary to what the Ancients did back then, Danny would hide his coffin himself where no one would find him.

In a place rich of ambient ectoplasm (to power up the tech that would keep him “safe”), but inaccessible to anyone who doesn't have intangibility and even then he would put up an Ecto-shield to prevent anyone to bypass the solid bedrock that he would use as natural barricade.

Amity is not a safe Ecto-rich place anymore because of Vlad, so the next best city seems to be Gotham, what with the ley lines and several ghost curses layered on there.

So Danny digs a chamber hundreds meters under Gotham and builds from scratch his prison, going out only three or four times to get some missing scraps and just enough food and water to let him finish the job (completely ignoring the new vigilantes starting to go out at night).

(He meets Robin!Dick once and most likely a still-stray Jason, but he quickly forgets about them, since he's too depressed to care.)

Once finished the project, Danny goes stargazing as Phantom at the highest point of the city one last time, where (a still not overly paranoid) Batman converges to assess him as a threat.

The two talk and have a heart-to-heart (mostly because Bruce sees another grieving kid like Dick and tries somehow to help), but nothing B says is enough to make Phantom desist from what Bruce thinks is commiting suicide.

However, Danny still thanks him for trying and for treating him like a person (Anti-Ecto-Acts are mentioned during their talk and you can bet that later B is gonna check on them) and that Batman is going to be a good dad for his kids.

(This comment leads later to a kinder timeline than the mess that is canon. ꒰(@｀꒳´)꒱ )

Danny manages to snatch one hug from the man, then he flees to the secret chamber, where he “goes to sleep” after engaging every lock and shield.

Even if Batman managed to tag Danny with a bug, he misses his signal once he goes underground and that makes him regret not being able to save him.

Maybe if he had been more open and emotionally reachable, he would have succeeded?

(...and that's how Bruce starts to go to therapy, but shhhhh!)

Years pass and Danny stays as a Sleeping Beauty, however, despite being good at science, he doesn't know everything, so he couldn't have imagined that water would filter through the rock and start pooling inside the chamber (the equipment is luckily waterproof).

However, the passive Ecto-radiation and the small amount of pure ectoplasm that leaks from the top of the filter, makes the water slowly turn into its Lazarus variant.

Though, contrary to LoA’s Water, this Lazarus Pit is pure and uncorrupted due to the filtering machines. 

Over the years (~15… 😏) the water digs through the chamber and shapes it into a cave that eventually connects to the Batcave. 

Maybe the cave-in of a wall, makes some of the Robins go and check if the stability of the ground is still sound and find the Lazarus Pit that covers (almost) completely both the shield and sight of what's under the surface.

When the kids report, B asks for a complete scan of the Pit and it results in discovering that there's something at the bottom.

So they send an aquatic probe to look into it directly and come up to the coffin that has something written on the top in case some ghost did manage to find Danny's spot but not enter the barrier.

(The probe, being “normal”, is able to pass without problem through the shield, though.)

The text is written in multiple languages (just in case) and reads:

“Here lies Danny Phantom. Please do not disturb me while I'm resting, as I want to half-live the saying ‘I’ll sleep when I'm dead.’”

For the first time ever, Damian snorts in genuine amusement aloud and doesn't notice (the other Bats do and start freaking out), but then the camera zooms to the face of the boy inside the coffin and Bruce does a double take as he recognizes the kid he wasn't able to save.

That moment of shock is enough to make the man freeze and not be able to react in time to Damian lunging to the Pit and diving directly inside of it. 

The BatFam starts to freak out even more and try to direct the probe to go and save Damian, but at the end they just manage to see live what he's doing.

Like it's just a normal salvage, Robin!Damian just ignites the instant floating buoys and that makes all the equipment emerge, with Damian sitting on the top of the coffin, completely ignoring the calls of the Bats. 

Immediately, Damian starts hacking the controls of the coffin, but it's not needed since as soon as he starts typing, the computer lights up and seemingly recognizes him, giving him immediate full access. 

Still ignoring the calls (no one can reach him since he's too far from the shore), Damian disengages the lock and “defrosts” Danny.

It takes a bit for him to wake up, but as soon as Danny starts to blink blearily, Damian is into his face, shouting.

“‘I'll sleep when I'm dead’? Really, Danny? You absolute moron!” 

It takes a couple of seconds to register anything, but as soon as he does, Danny gasps and leaps at Robin, snake-bear hugging him, as he climbs and clings all over the other boy.

(If either of them is crying while laughing, no they aren't: it's just the lingering Lazarus Water on their faces.)

Too scared to accidentally trigger the unknown “being” into constricting Damian to death, the BatFam waits, analyzing the interaction.

(Cass silently reassures them that they aren't a threat.) 

“How?!” It's the first thing that ‘Phantom’ says, leaning a bit back to cup their hands on Damian's face, trying to look into his eyes, but the mask is in the way.

Casually, Robin unmasks himself (!!) and smirks smugly, holding the meta(?) by the waist.

“You do remember that incident at the Egyptian Exhibit, don't you?” A nod, accompanied by a desolate puppy-like expression. “Did you really think that I would have waited that long to come back and find you?”

This time the tears are undeniable and, to hide them, the being buries their head in the crook of Damian's shoulder, clinging harder, but not enough to harm him. 

“Where's Sam?” The being asks, muffled, after a while.

“No clue, I just started remembering from reading the pun and seeing your face.”

“Humph, that checks out. ...We'll have to go and look for her, since she's twice as stubborn as you and so she would have come back too.” Damian snorts in amusement, but nods. There's a pause, then Danny jolts, leaning back from him to look at the other better with a frown.

“Wait, why are you drenched in ectoplasm?!” He looks around and sees the Pit. “Wtf dude, this is so not healthy for you, com’on, I have to decontaminate you, you moron!”

(At this, Danny gets so many points in B’s books.)

“Nah, don’t bother.” Damian shrugs, putting a hand on his own chest. “I know my body and with the memory of past me coming back, I think I’m already on the way of becoming a halfa? At least, the humming beside my heart feels much like your Core.”

Danny startles and puts his own hand on the other’s to assess himself.

“Before taking a dip in this Pit to salvage your ass, it wasn’t noticeable, but the ectoplasm must have fed it enough to become active.” Damian guesses as Danny examines the evidence.

“Not ‘on the way’, try ‘already are’. How’s that even possible?” Danny gapes.

“Sweet! Now we can go flying together!” Damian beams.

“Forget that for a second and answer me! This feels like a complete baby-Core, much like mine right after the Accident, but at the same time it’s older?” Danny frowns. “Like 15 or so years old.” Looks up at Damian in confusion.

“That checks out. My current grandfather is a cultist revenant ass (*BatFam gasps in shock*) who’s obsessed with using Pits of corrupted ectoplasm to stay alive. I got tossed inside one a couple of times to be revived as well and I don’t doubt for a second that some of it was used to develop me in the artificial womb.”

“Duuuude, how does your new life sound more crazy than ours back then?”

“The merit of choosing to be reincarnated as the heir of a vigilante Father,” Damian points at the Bats with a thumb, making Danny notice them for the first time, “the ‘curse’ of an interesting life and the chance to meet you again, I guess.”

After a glance that promises ‘we’ll talk about that later’ to Damian, Danny turns properly to the BatFam and startles at seeing Batman. “Oh, it’s the Bat-dude!” Quick glance at the rest of the people, “I knew you would be a good dad! Tucker wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise!” 

There are various splutters from every BatFam member and Damian grumbles in embarrassment.

“Wait, you know him B?” Red Robin side-turns towards Batman, frowning. “There’s no report of him in any file of the Batcomputer. And I’ve read all of them.”

“...Because I never wanted a record of my failure glaring back at me. I already gave myself a hard time as it was, it would have made things worse and Black Canary agreed with that assessment.” B admits.

“What failure?” Jason (who has another vigilante name, since, you know, the Red Hood moniker was to spite B and in this timeline there’s no need for that) gapes.

“Probably me coming down here to get some ‘Eternal Sleep’.” Danny shuts off the barrier, picks up Damian and flies with him on the shore, phasing the residual ecto from their forms. “You thought it was an euphemism for suicide, not literal, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, you did give that impression. Are you alright, son?” B looks at Damian, still not outing his civilian name to be on the safe side.

“Of course, Father. This Ectoplasm Pit has none of the junk Grandfather’s has. Danny knows his stuff and his Ecto-filters are the top notch. (Danny blushes in the bg at the praise) Heck, it could even be used to cure Pit Madness or to revive people without it in the first place.”

“Let’s not try it, please!” Danny hastily intervenes, “No dying for anyone in my family allowed now that I’m back!” 

“Dude, we aren't immortal and you know that.” Damian shoulders Danny in scolding.

“They aren't immortal, you mean. You're a halfa now. Death won't stick on us in any way that matters, so I don't want anyone getting KiA at least. If they get to the point of being old and happy, then I'm fine with them going to rest. But don't think that I will leave your side any time soon.” Danny says pointedly at Damian, who bristles.

“That's completely insane, you can't be everywhere and above all you can't stalk me everywhere! I'm Robin, Batman's right hand, I won't be babysat when I have more experience than you no-” Damian's rant gets silenced by Danny kissing him.

Even after he lets go, Damian's brain is still blue screening while the BatFam is either gaping or catcalling.

“Tucker, or whatever you new name is, why do you think I went to sleep there after you all died in your past life?” Points at the coffin. “You remember that ‘Other Me’?”

“Vaguely, details are still a bit fuzzy, but he didn’t say much anyway after he tied us to the boiler…” Damian blinks, still a bit dazed by the kiss, but then grimaces at Danny’s flinch.

“Yeah, well, he actually went insane after losing you since that gave him an Obsession Failure. He broke down so deeply and irreversibly that it twisted him enough that accepting Vlad’s help led him to being the Scourge of Humanity. I-I… promised you to never become like him, so… this was the only way I could do that. I didn’t know what else to do, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you after all!” Danny breaks down, crying and sobbing and collapsing against Damian, as he cradles him in his arms.

Damian tries to console him with both physical affection (hugs and caresses) and murmuring reassurances (things like ‘it’s okay, it’s alright, it’s not your fault’) until the outburst slows down and his latest proposition catches Danny’s attention.

“Do you want to meet Batcow? She’s a true sweetheart, her therapist abilities are without equals among the living.”

“...You have a pet cow?” Danny’s voice is still rough with tears, but his disbelief is unmistakable.

“Of course I can have a pet cow! I saved her from an inhumane slaughterhouse, what I’ve seen there even made me swear off meat!” Damian!Tucker says righteously, but then realization sinks in as he stares with growing horror into Danny’s wide eyes.

“Oh Ancients, I’ve become like Sam! And I can’t even go back on the belief of my new life because both she and my current self have a point!”

That seems another breaking point, because Danny starts laughing so hard that he’s crying again.

“It’s not funny Danny, I’m having a crisis here!” Damian!Tucker cries in despair (to hide the relief that his best friend/crush/future boyfriend? isn’t as hopeless and depressed as before) as he lightly shakes the other, making him laugh even harder.

(He won’t let him go either. As Damian, now Tucker has all the skills he lacked in his past life and can protect his People. He won’t fail again.)

[croquis-el]

I just want to get them as a gift

or

How Naruhodō knew about flowers

In addition to ladders and stepladders, which are the unofficial symbol of the franchise, there is another topic that receives a lot of attention.

Flowers and plants.

We know that Naruhodō inherited an amazingly resilient plant named Charlie, and how carefully he takes care of it, despite the fact that he does not remember its scientific name.

Is everything that sad?

思ったとおり、造花だ。

Just as I thought, it's an artificial flower.

ひまわりとチューリップ以外、 ぼくは花の名前は知らない。

I don't know the names of any flowers except for sunflowers and tulips.

お花がかざってあるよ。

ね。なんていうお花かな。

There are flowers on it.

Hey. I wonder what kind of flowers they are.

ひまわりでもチューリップでもないみたいだね。

It's neither a sunflower nor a tulip.

According to him, he can only tell tulips and sunflowers apart from all the different types of flowers. But! Case 4-5 gives us some additional information. Naruhodō learned what roses look like. Yey!

(バラの花、か････ キザな感じだな

(Rose flowers... how cheesy.)

There is another interesting point here.

Naruhodo uses the word きざ (気障) kiza - affected, smug, pompous, snobby, cheesy.

He literally says that pomposity and banality are in the spirit of Kirihito Garyu (Kristoph Gavin). Well, briefly about the true thoughts about the "friend".

何かしら? 成歩堂龍一。

その、手に持ったチューリップは。

What is it, Naruhodo Ryuichi?

What's that tulip in your hand?

チューリップ read as tulip

Even when Mei Karuma (Franziska von Karma) was hospitalized, he came to her with tulips. Ahem, with a tulip. One. (*quietly screams*) There is no indication of quantity in the sentence.

No wonder Mei was making fun of him. He could have at least bought a bouquet.

The houseplants are also a big sad story.

最高級の観葉植物だ。

It's a top-quality houseplant.

名前はわからないが、 どうせ高いんだろう。

I don't know the name, but it's probably expensive.

New classification! Let's write it down. Option 1: the expensive look houseplant. Option 2: a regular houseplant.

But! A poor understanding does not mean that a person does not like flowers.

向かいの花輪にくらべて、 さらにゴージャスだ。

It's even more gorgeous than the flower wreath opposite.

ゴージャス (gōjasu) - gorgeous

弁護士にも花輪があればいいのにな。

It would be nice if lawyers also had flower wreaths.

“成歩堂さん江依頼人一同”････とか。

"All clients of Naruhodo-san"...or something like that.

Naruhodō used the word 花輪 (hanawa) - flower wreath, flower garland

花 (hana): flower

輪 (wa): ring, circle, wreath

Its usage and symbolism are very specific and closely related to various ceremonies (opening business, events, festivals).

Hanawa are a fairly formal way of expressing feelings. They are rarely given as a personal gift between friends (for this purpose, bouquets 花束 (hanataba) are used).

There is a hint of regrets.

いいのに (ii noni) : "It would be nice if..." or "It's a shame that..." This is an expression of regret, a wish that something were different.

When he saved clients from jail, but didn't get a thank you wreath :(

Flower arrangements are "gorgeous" in his opinion (a reference to Max Galactika from 2-3), so he obviously likes them a lot. Someone give him a bouquet of sunflowers, make a good boy happy.

[epicthemusicalstuff]

YEY VENGANCE SAGA!!! 🔱🩸⛵️🌊

BTW, did ya’ll notice how this trailer is a parallel to the original reveal trailer of the Ocean Saga?

(Which was the first oficial animatic trailer made for EPIC and was how Jorge revealed Steven Rodriguez as Poseidon)

YEP!!! I was watching it, and I was like Woah- that focus on Odysseus breathing is so similar to the Ocean Saga Trailer- ITS SO COOL THOUGH!!! It’s a little bit of a full circle moment here in regards to Poseidon!!

[bratzkoo]

WGM episode 9 | dk

episode 9: the farewell trip

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: seokmin x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 4.3k~ Warnings/note: fluff, fake marriage, and real feelings. final episode tomorrow! yey.

summary: WE GOT MARRIED is back. Seokmin and Y/N pairs up to shoot 10 episodes for a special. Turns out, there are more things happenings off-camera than what meets the eye.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ateez-atiny380 , @aeerio . @vernons-wifey12 , @odevote118 , @btskzfav , @codeinebelle , @syluslittlecrows , @minghaofied , @ikbennatas , @armycarat2612 , @smiileflower

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist series masterlist | previous episode | next episode

[Opening sequence: Highlights from Episode 8, focusing on their amusement park adventures, Seokmin winning the stuffed dog, and their intimate moment on the Ferris wheel]

Narrator: "As their We Got Married journey nears its conclusion, our couple embarks on a special two-day farewell trip to reflect on their time together!"

---

The drive to the coastal town was quiet, the silence filled with thoughts Seokmin couldn't bring himself to voice. The PD had informed them last week that Episodes 9 and 10 would be the finale of their "We Got Married" journey—Episode 9 featuring a farewell trip, followed by Episode 10's closing ceremony back in Seoul.

Two more episodes. Two more filming days. And then... what?

The question had been haunting Seokmin ever since the amusement park date, where he'd finally admitted to himself what he'd been trying to deny for weeks: his feelings for Y/N had long since crossed the line from professional to personal. The realization should have been liberating, but instead, it felt like a ticking clock had been placed beside him, counting down the moments until their manufactured relationship reached its scripted conclusion.

"You're being very philosophical over there," Y/N observed from the seat beside him, breaking his reverie. They were in the backseat of a production van, cameras mounted discreetly to capture their journey. "I can practically hear the gears turning."

"Just enjoying the scenery," Seokmin lied, gesturing vaguely at the passing coastline.

Y/N gave him a look that clearly said she didn't believe him but chose not to push. Instead, she shifted slightly closer, their shoulders almost touching. "It's beautiful here. I've never been to this part of the coast before."

"Me neither," Seokmin replied, grateful for the easy conversation topic. "The members and I usually go to Jeju when we have time off."

"All twelve of you? That sounds chaotic."

"Controlled chaos is our specialty," Seokmin confirmed with a smile. "Though 'controlled' might be generous. It's mostly just Seungcheol and Joshua trying to prevent the rest of us from accidentally setting things on fire or adopting stray animals."

Y/N laughed, the sound still doing dangerous things to his heart rate even after all this time. "I'd pay good money to see that."

"Maybe someday you will," Seokmin said without thinking, then immediately regretted it. The implication that she would still be in his life after the show ended hung awkwardly between them.

Before either could address it, the PD called from the front seat. "We're almost there! Get ready for your first look at the villa."

The production van rounded a curve, revealing a stunning beachfront property nestled against a backdrop of pine trees and ocean. The villa was modern but warm, with large windows overlooking the water and a spacious deck that wrapped around the building.

"Wow," Y/N breathed, leaning forward to get a better view. "That's... not what I was expecting."

"Too nice for a couple about to get fake-divorced?" Seokmin joked, though the words stung as he said them.

"Maybe they're trying to remind us what we'll be missing," Y/N replied with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

The van pulled up to the entrance, where the rest of the production crew was already setting up equipment. The PD handed them each an envelope as they exited the vehicle.

"Your mission for this trip," the PD explained, "is to reflect on your journey together. These envelopes contain specific activities for you to complete during your two days here. They're designed to help you process your experience and prepare for your final episode."

Farewell activities. Seokmin's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. It was all so... final.

They entered the villa together, cameras tracking their reactions as they explored the space. The interior was as impressive as the exterior—open and airy, with comfortable furnishings and tasteful decor. A large living room with a fireplace opened onto the deck, while a modern kitchen and dining area occupied one wing. Down a hallway, they found two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.

"Two bedrooms?" Y/N questioned quietly, raising an eyebrow at Seokmin.

"Apparently even fake marriages have boundaries," Seokmin replied, trying to keep his tone light despite the odd disappointment he felt. Not that he had expected to share a room with Y/N—they never had during previous episodes—but something about the separate spaces underscored the artifice of their relationship in a way that felt particularly pointed.

Once they had settled in, the PD gathered them in the living room for further instructions.

"Today, you'll complete the first activity from your envelopes," he explained. "The crew will follow at a distance to capture footage, but we want this to feel natural and reflective. Tomorrow morning, you'll do the second activity, followed by a farewell dinner in the evening. Then we'll return to Seoul for your final episode."

Everything so carefully planned, even their goodbyes. Seokmin nodded, trying to maintain a professional expression despite the heaviness in his chest.

When the PD left them to prepare, Y/N opened her envelope, reading the card inside. "My first activity is a sunset beach walk where we write messages in the sand about what we've learned from each other." She looked up at Seokmin. "What's yours?"

Seokmin opened his envelope. "A boat ride to the nearby cove. It says we should use the time on the water to discuss how the show has changed us." He glanced at Y/N. "Looks like they've scheduled your activity for this evening and mine for tomorrow morning."

"Very poetic," Y/N observed. "Sunset reflections and sunrise revelations."

"The PD does have a flair for the dramatic," Seokmin agreed. "Almost like they're producing a television show or something."

Y/N laughed, some of the tension dissipating. "What should we do until sunset? We have a few hours."

Seokmin glanced out at the clear blue sky and the inviting beach below their deck. "Want to explore? The cameras can follow, but we don't have to be 'on' yet."

"I'd like that," Y/N agreed, already heading toward her room. "Let me change into something more beach-appropriate."

While Y/N changed, Seokmin stepped out onto the deck, taking a deep breath of salt-tinged air. The setting was undeniably romantic—the perfect backdrop for declarations of love or tearful goodbyes. He wondered if that was deliberate, if the producers were hoping for some dramatic revelation during their final episodes together.

What would happen if he actually told Y/N how he felt? The thought sent a jolt of panic through him. Would she laugh it off as method acting? Would she gently explain that she saw him only as a colleague, a friend at most? Or was there a chance, however small, that she might feel something too?

The sliding door opened behind him, interrupting his thoughts. Y/N stepped out onto the deck in a simple sundress, her hair loose around her shoulders, looking so naturally beautiful that it made his chest ache.

"Ready to be terrible tourists?" she asked with a smile.

"Born ready," Seokmin replied, pushing his complicated feelings aside for the moment. "I excel at looking confused in new places."

They spent the next few hours exploring the small coastal town, cameras following at a discreet distance. They browsed local shops, sampled street food, and wandered along the harbor, falling into the easy companionship that had developed between them over the past eight episodes.

In a small art gallery, Y/N lingered in front of a painting of the ocean at sunset, the colors vibrant and alive against the canvas.

"It's beautiful," she said softly. "Reminds me of the view from our villa."

"You should get it," Seokmin suggested. "A souvenir of our trip."

Y/N glanced at him, something unreadable in her expression. "Maybe I will."

While she arranged the purchase with the gallery owner, Seokmin found himself drawn to a different painting—a simple depiction of two people walking along a beach, their figures small against the vastness of the sea and sky. There was something achingly poignant about it, a sense of both connection and impermanence that resonated with his current emotional state.

Without overthinking it, he purchased the painting, arranging to have it delivered to his dorm in Seoul after the trip.

When they reunited outside the gallery, each carrying a wrapped package, they exchanged knowing smiles but didn't comment on their purchases. Some things, it seemed, they were keeping private, even from each other.

As the afternoon waned, they made their way back to the villa to prepare for the sunset beach walk. The production crew was already positioning cameras along the shoreline, creating the illusion of privacy while ensuring every moment would be captured.

"Ready for some deep reflection?" Y/N asked as they removed their shoes at the edge of the sand.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Seokmin replied, trying to sound casual despite the flutter of nerves in his stomach. "Though I should warn you, my handwriting in sand leaves much to be desired."

"I'll try not to judge," Y/N promised with a smile.

They began walking along the water's edge, the setting sun painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. The ocean lapped gently at their feet, the rhythmic sound of waves creating a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

"So," Y/N began after they'd walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, "what have you learned from me? That's the mission, right?"

Seokmin considered the question seriously. "I've learned a lot, actually. More than I expected to."

"Like what?"

"Like how to navigate disagreements without either avoiding conflict entirely or turning it into a bigger issue than it needs to be," Seokmin said, thinking back to their decoration argument. "You taught me that it's okay to have different opinions, and that compromise doesn't mean someone has to lose."

Y/N looked surprised and touched by his answer. "That's... really thoughtful."

"I have my moments," Seokmin replied with a self-deprecating smile. "What about you? What have you learned from me?"

Y/N was quiet for a moment, watching the waves wash over their footprints. "I've learned about authenticity," she said finally. "You're so genuinely yourself in every situation, even when it would be easier to put on a persona or hide behind professionalism. It's made me braver about showing my real self too."

The sincerity in her voice made Seokmin's heart tighten. "Even when my real self is screaming like a pterodactyl on roller coasters?"

"Especially then," Y/N laughed. "The willingness to be embarrassed or vulnerable and just own it—that's rare, especially in our industry."

They continued walking, the conversation flowing easily between light-hearted memories and more profound reflections. When they reached a secluded stretch of beach, Y/N stopped, gesturing to the damp sand before them.

"I think this is where we're supposed to write our messages," she said, glancing at the camera crew positioned discreetly on a dune behind them.

Seokmin nodded, kneeling down to write in the sand with his finger. After a moment's thought, he carefully traced the words: "Thank you for making pretend feel real."

Y/N read it silently, her expression softening. She knelt beside him and wrote her own message: "Some shows end, but some feelings remain."

Seokmin stared at her words, heart pounding. Was she implying what he thought? Or was he reading too much into a vague statement that would sound good on television?

Before he could analyze it further, a larger wave rushed up the beach, washing away both their messages and leaving only smooth sand behind.

"Well, that's symbolic," Y/N said with a small laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Impermanence at its finest," Seokmin agreed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable parallel to their relationship. Here today, gone tomorrow, leaving no trace behind.

They stood watching the ocean for a moment longer, the silence between them charged with unspoken words. Finally, Y/N turned to him with a smile that seemed slightly forced.

"We should head back," she said. "It's getting dark."

"Right," Seokmin agreed, falling into step beside her as they retraced their path along the shore.

The walk back was quieter, both lost in their own thoughts. As the villa came into view, illuminated against the deepening twilight, Y/N surprised Seokmin by reaching out and taking his hand.

"For the cameras," she said softly, though none were currently visible.

"Right," Seokmin replied, entwining his fingers with hers and trying not to read too much into the gesture. "For the cameras."

---

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair, served on the villa's deck under the stars. The production team had arranged for a local chef to prepare a seafood feast, which they ate at a candlelit table with the sound of waves as their backdrop.

"This is nice," Y/N commented, gesturing around them. "They're really going all out for our farewell."

"Making sure we end on a high note," Seokmin agreed. "Though I'm slightly terrified about what they might have planned for the final episode."

"Probably something overly dramatic," Y/N suggested. "Maybe confetti cannons while we return our rings."

"Or doves released as we sign fake divorce papers."

"Perhaps a montage of our 'journey' set to emotional music."

They laughed, but there was an edge to it, a shared acknowledgment of the reality waiting for them after this bubble of pretend domesticity popped.

As they finished dinner, the PD approached their table. "Great work today, both of you. The beach footage looks beautiful. We'll start tomorrow with the boat ride at 9 AM, so make sure you're ready."

After the crew had cleared away the dinner dishes and retreated to their separate accommodations down the beach, Seokmin and Y/N found themselves alone on the deck. The night was clear, stars scattered like diamonds across the velvet sky, the sound of waves creating a peaceful backdrop to their conversation.

"Want to build a fire?" Seokmin suggested, gesturing to the fire pit nestled in the corner of the deck. "It's getting a bit chilly."

"Sounds perfect," Y/N agreed, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.

They worked together to arrange wood and kindling, Seokmin eventually producing a small flame that grew into a cheerful fire. They settled into the comfortable chairs surrounding the pit, the flickering light casting warm shadows across their faces.

"Can I ask you something?" Y/N said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Anything," Seokmin replied, perhaps too honestly.

"What will you remember most about this whole experience? When it's all over and you're back to your normal life."

The question caught Seokmin off guard with its directness. He considered it carefully, aware that his answer might reveal more than he intended.

"Honestly? The in-between moments," he said finally. "Not the big, produced segments or the challenges, but the small interactions that weren't necessarily for the cameras. Like our text conversations about DK Junior, or that coffee we had after the second episode, or even just now, building this fire together."

Y/N smiled, the firelight reflecting in her eyes. "I think those are my favorite memories too. The real stuff around the edges of the show."

"What about you?" Seokmin asked. "What will you remember most?"

Y/N was quiet for a moment, gazing into the flames. "The wedding, I think," she said softly. "When you sang instead of reading your vows. That was... unexpected. Special."

Seokmin felt his ears warming, and it wasn't from the fire. "Pure panic response," he tried to joke. "My brain short-circuited and fell back on the one thing I know I can do well."

"Well, it worked," Y/N replied, her voice gentle. "It felt genuine in a way that written vows might not have."

There was that word again—genuine. Real. Authentic. The thread that kept weaving through their conversations, the implicit acknowledgment that something true had developed within their manufactured relationship.

"Y/N," Seokmin began, his heart pounding, "I've been thinking—"

"Don't," she interrupted softly, her eyes still on the fire. "Not yet. Let's just... enjoy this moment. We can talk tomorrow, after your boat activity."

Seokmin nodded, recognizing both the gentle rejection and the promise in her words. Not yet. Which implied a later, a future conversation about whatever was happening between them.

They sat in companionable silence after that, watching the fire slowly burn down to embers. When it was time to retire for the night, they stood at the doorway to their separate bedrooms, an awkward moment of uncertainty hanging between them.

"Goodnight, Seokmin," Y/N said finally, her voice soft in the darkened hallway.

"Goodnight," he replied, resisting the urge to reach for her hand, to prolong the moment. "See you in the morning."

As he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant sound of waves through his open window, Seokmin found himself mentally rehearsing what he might say to Y/N during tomorrow's boat ride. How did one confess developing real feelings during a fake relationship without sounding completely ridiculous?

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, illuminating the darkness with its soft glow.

Y/N: Still awake?

Seokmin smiled, typing back immediately.

Seokmin: Apparently. You too?

Y/N: Can't sleep. Too many thoughts.

Seokmin: Want to share any of them?

There was a long pause before her response came through.

Y/N: I'm going to miss this.

Three simple words that conveyed so much. Seokmin stared at them, heart thumping painfully in his chest.

Seokmin: Me too. More than I expected to.

Y/N: What happens when the cameras stop rolling for good?

The question he'd been avoiding, laid bare between them.

Seokmin: What do you want to happen?

Another long pause.

Y/N: I don't know. But I don't want it to just end.

Seokmin took a deep breath, fingers hovering over the screen as he considered his response.

Seokmin: It doesn't have to.

Y/N: Doesn't it? We live in different worlds, Seokmin. After next week, you go back to SEVENTEEN and I go back to my next project, and this becomes a line on both our resumes.

The pragmatism in her message stung, even though he knew she was right. Their lives were complicated, their careers demanding. Whatever had developed between them would face significant challenges in the real world.

Seokmin: Unless we don't let it.

Y/N: Let's talk tomorrow. For real, not for the cameras. After the boat ride.

Seokmin: Okay. Goodnight, Y/N.

Y/N: Goodnight, Seokmin. Sweet dreams.

He set his phone aside, both more anxious and more hopeful than he'd been before their exchange. Tomorrow, they would talk—really talk, without cameras or scripts or careful evasions. The thought was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

---

Morning arrived with a sudden change in weather. What had been a clear, starry night had transformed into a gray, drizzly day, the ocean churning with white-capped waves beneath a stormy sky.

"We might need to modify today's plans," the PD announced at breakfast, looking concerned as he checked the weather radar on his phone. "The boat captain says it's safe to go out, but it's going to be choppy. Are you both okay with that?"

Seokmin looked at Y/N, remembering her fear of heights. "Would rough waters be a problem for you?"

"I'm not seasick easily, if that's what you're asking," Y/N replied with a small smile. "I think I can handle it if you can."

"I've survived Hoshi's dance practices," Seokmin said seriously. "A little rough water is nothing."

With the decision made, they prepared for the boat ride, donning raincoats provided by the production team and making their way down to the small harbor where a modest fishing boat awaited them. The captain, a weathered man with kind eyes, greeted them warmly.

"Should be fine," he assured them, eyeing the clouds. "Just a bit of rain, nothing serious. We'll stay close to shore and be back in an hour or so."

The camera crew boarded with them, positioning equipment under waterproof covers. As promised in the activity card, they would maintain a respectful distance during the ride, allowing Seokmin and Y/N space for their conversation while still capturing footage.

As the boat pulled away from the dock, Seokmin and Y/N stood at the railing, watching the shore recede. The rain was light but persistent, creating a misty veil over the landscape.

"Dramatic weather for dramatic conversations," Y/N observed, pulling her hood tighter around her face. "Very on-brand for our finale."

"The PD probably arranged it specially," Seokmin agreed, earning a laugh from Y/N.

They fell silent as the boat navigated around the coastline, the engine's hum and the splash of waves against the hull creating a soundtrack to their journey. When they reached a sheltered cove, the captain reduced speed, allowing the boat to drift gently in the protected waters.

"So," Y/N said after a moment, "we're supposed to discuss how the show has changed us."

"Right," Seokmin nodded, gathering his courage. "Do you want to go first, or should I?"

"I'll start," Y/N offered, turning to face him more fully. "The honest truth is that this experience has changed me more than I expected it to. I went into it thinking it would be good exposure, a fun project that might expand my audience. I didn't expect..."

She paused, seeming to search for the right words.

"Didn't expect what?" Seokmin prompted gently.

"I didn't expect to connect with you so much," Y/N admitted, her eyes meeting his with an honesty that took his breath away. "I didn't expect to find myself looking forward to filming days, or texting you at midnight just to share something silly, or thinking about our conversations when I should be focusing on other things."

Seokmin's heart hammered in his chest. "I know exactly what you mean."

"The show was supposed to be pretend," Y/N continued, her voice soft but steady. "But somewhere along the way, parts of it started feeling very real to me."

"Which parts?" Seokmin asked, needing to hear her say it explicitly.

Y/N's smile was small but genuine. "The way I feel when I'm with you. That's real. Has been for a while now."

The admission hung between them, as significant as the rain falling around their sheltered spot on the boat. Seokmin felt like he might float away with the lightness suddenly filling his chest.

"Me too," he said simply. "I've been trying to keep reminding myself it's just for the show, but... it hasn't felt that way for a long time."

Y/N reached out, her hand finding his on the railing. "So what do we do about it?"

"I don't know," Seokmin admitted honestly. "Our lives are complicated. Our schedules are insane. The media attention would be... intense."

"All true," Y/N agreed. "But I'd regret it if we didn't at least try to figure it out."

"Me too," Seokmin said, squeezing her hand. "Maybe we could start slow? Real dates without cameras. See where it goes."

Y/N smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. "I'd like that."

Before Seokmin could respond, the skies opened up, the light drizzle transforming into a sudden downpour. They both let out surprised laughs as the rain soaked them despite their raincoats.

"We should go below deck!" Seokmin shouted over the sound of rain pounding against the boat.

"In a minute!" Y/N called back, her face tilted up to the sky, eyes closed as the rain washed over her. "This feels symbolic somehow!"

Seokmin laughed, watching her with a surge of affection so strong it nearly overwhelmed him. She was beautiful like this—unguarded, joyful, embracing the moment with the same authenticity he'd come to adore about her.

Without overthinking it, he stepped closer, his hands finding her waist. Y/N's eyes opened, meeting his with a question in them.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, barely audible over the rain.

In answer, Y/N rose on her tiptoes, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a kiss that was sweet and tentative at first, then deeper as Seokmin pulled her closer. The rain continued to fall around them, but neither noticed or cared.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Y/N was smiling. "For the record," she said, "that was definitely not for the cameras."

"Noted," Seokmin replied, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. "Though I'm pretty sure they got it anyway."

They glanced toward the camera crew, who were indeed filming from their sheltered position, the PD giving them a thumbs up that was equal parts professional approval and personal congratulations.

"Well," Y/N laughed, "at least Episode 9 will have a dramatic climax."

"The viewers will be thrilled," Seokmin agreed, still holding her close. "But I'm more interested in what happens off-camera from here on out."

"Me too," Y/N said softly, her eyes meeting his with a promise that had nothing to do with television and everything to do with the real connection they'd found within their manufactured marriage.

As the boat turned back toward the harbor, rain still falling around them, Seokmin couldn't help but think about the message Y/N had written in the sand the night before, now washed away by the tide but etched permanently in his memory:

Some shows end, but some feelings remain.

And in that moment, soaked to the skin but warmer than he'd ever felt, Seokmin knew with absolute certainty that whatever had started between them during these past nine episodes was only the beginning of their story—the real story, no cameras required.

[sweetieviktor]

jealous! sevika x bartender! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios)

summary: while working at the bar, a guy is being inconvenient. luckily, a jealous sevika takes care of him.

content warning: slightly spoilers of season 1, arc 2 and 3, the guy is harassing reader (it is not sooo explicit but if you dont feel comfortable with this dont read it, please!!), little violence (just a punch) and a bit of blood. be warned, be safe!

author notes: i loved doing this request and, as my first one, i hope this is good. btw here is almost 4am and i haven't slept yet (i promised myself that i would write something on the weekend and i did it yey), so there may be a lot of typos and things like that but i can't think properly now, so yep i will post it as it is now, no proof read, no nothing. wish you guys like it!

» in the late night hours, the last drop was more agitated than ever. in every corner there were people talking, smoking, playing and drinking the drinks you made and poured in their cups again and again.

» working in such a crowded place was like hell, specially today, it looked like all of the lanes came to the bar at the same time. but you were well paid, you couldn't complain much, well, not now that a guy was just about to tip you.

“hey, pretty thing,” the weird man waved his hand to get your attention, smiling creepily at you when he finally got it, “would you get me one more of these?” he raised his glass mid air to make his point clearer “i can pay you well...”

» you knew the risks of his proposal, but money is money, and so is job, and you needed it bad now, things in the lanes never were this difficult, but since the enforces forced their troops in, making money was even harder.

» so you did as you were asked. picked up the bottle from behind the counter, walked to his side and poured in the glass a dose of the liquor. he placed a few more coins than the drinks price on the table and you smiled politely, picking them up.

» in between cards, a certain someone was already watching you from afar, waiting to step in if the man tried to do something that could possibly harm you. she was silco's right-hand, a regular at the lost drop and nothing more. just another sometimes flirty customer, but unlike him, she was respectful with you.

» when you turned your body so you could put the bottle back to its place, the man called you. again. and now she was on full alert, almost forgetting about the cards game she was playing.

“pretty thing, you forgot something! you still haven't told me your name, right? i want to know you... better.” the way he was eyeing you, your body, was making you sick and all you wanted to do was to punch him now, and sadly you couldn't.

but someone could. and she did.

even before you registered what was happening, the tall woman was already at your side, almost shielding you from the man's view, burning eyes looking directly at his soul. “if you ever come here again, i swear to you, the chances of you being alive are zero, you understood?”

“b-but ma'am i did nothing!” his nose was bleeding almost comically, but she still kept her composure, holding the man's face in place, so she could punch him again if needed.

“i've asked you if you understood!” she slammed down her mechanical hand on the table, raising it again, her voice full of rage.

“yes, ma'am!” she released him, and he runned away from the bar, shrinking and muttering “sorry's” at you both again and again.

“and you better never try to talk with them like that.” she shouted so he could still hear her words, jealousy dripping in every one of those. when she looked down on you, your pretty eyes were already shining while you looked up at her.

“thanks. for defending me.” you offered her a little smile, a genuine one, and she offered her hand, which you gladly shaked.

“no need to thanks. name's sevika.” she said, displaying a smirk on her so pretty lips.

“sevika... a beautiful name for an even more beautiful lady.”

» you didn't know her well, and neither did she, but maybe this could be a start of something.