#but i guess at first glance it might seem more like i drew on the phantom's relationship with christine for this

[rafedarling]

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

pairing: drew starkey x reader

based on this request: Drew and reader! After watching Outer Banks season 1, out of curiosty because the reader finds him attractive, she goes on his instagram but accidently presses ''Follow'' but panics and unfollows. She wants to play it cool you know, and not be that ''fangirl'' incase she ever bumped into him. Not that she thinks she would ever have a chance, but you know? She is surprised when he follows her a few hours later since she is just a 'normal person' and not a celebrity or influencer. He sends her a message and kind of jokingly being like ''Was I that boring to follow'' or something and a conversation just takes off | word count: 1,2k

warning: english is not my native language.

au: like, reblog, comment & feedback are much appreciated 🥹 | taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves @stuffyownswrld

You had just finished watching the first season of Outer Banks, and to say you were hooked would be an understatement. The show had everything—drama, adventure, and a cast that was undeniably attractive. But there was one character who had particularly caught your eye: Rafe Cameron, played by the actor Drew Starkey. You weren’t sure if it was the intensity he brought to the character or just his piercing blue eyes, but either way, you found yourself thinking about him long after the credits rolled.

Out of curiosity, and maybe a little bit of a crush, you decided to check out his Instagram. You were sure it was just harmless fun, a way to see what the actor was like off-screen. After all, it wasn’t like you were ever going to meet him in real life. You were just a normal person, living a normal life, far removed from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

You typed his name into the search bar and quickly found his profile. As you scrolled through his photos, you couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed from his character. He had a warm, genuine smile in most of his pictures, and the captions were often humorous or thoughtful. It was refreshing, and it only made you like him more.

Without really thinking, your thumb hovered over the “Follow” button. Before you could second-guess yourself, you pressed it—almost instinctively. But as soon as you did, panic set in. Oh no, what did I just do? Your mind raced. I wasn’t supposed to actually follow him!

In a frenzy, you quickly unfollowed him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t believe you had been so careless. What if he saw? you thought, mortified. You weren’t trying to be that person—just another fangirl who accidentally reveals her crush on a celebrity.

You put your phone down, trying to distract yourself with something else, but your mind kept drifting back to that split-second decision. He has millions of followers, you reassured yourself. There’s no way he would notice one random person following and unfollowing him.

Hours passed, and you had almost managed to forget the whole thing when your phone buzzed with a notification. You glanced at the screen and froze. It was a notification from Instagram: @drewstarkey followed you back.

Your heart skipped a beat. Wait, what? You stared at the screen, blinking in disbelief. Drew Starkey, the Drew Starkey, had followed you? But why? You were just an ordinary person, not a celebrity or influencer. The thought that he might have actually noticed you made your stomach do a little flip.

Before you could fully process what was happening, another notification appeared—a message from him. With shaky fingers, you tapped on it, your heart racing.

Drew Starkey:

Was I that boring to follow? 😅

You stared at the message, completely floored. He noticed. He actually noticed. And not only that, he had messaged you, joking about it. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, but one thing was certain: you needed to reply.

Taking a deep breath, you started typing.

You:

Oh my gosh, no! It was totally an accident. I swear I’m not a weirdo or anything…

You paused, rereading the message. Great, now I sound like a weirdo, you thought, rolling your eyes at yourself. You quickly added:

You:

I was just checking out your profile after watching Outer Banks. But then I got nervous and unfollowed because I didn’t want to seem like a fangirl.

There was a brief moment of silence as you watched the three little dots indicating he was typing. Your heart was in your throat, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Drew Starkey:

No need to be nervous. I’m just a regular guy who happens to play a crazy one on TV. 😄

You felt your nerves ease a little at his response. He seemed so down-to-earth and genuine, which only made you like him more.

You:

Well, you’re really good at playing the crazy guy. I didn’t think I’d ever root for Rafe, but you made him so compelling!

Drew Starkey:

Thanks! That means a lot. It’s always fun to play characters that are so different from who I am in real life.

You:

I can imagine. It must be challenging, though.

Drew Starkey:

Definitely. But it’s also rewarding when people like you notice the work that goes into it. By the way, what did you think of the show?

The conversation was flowing so naturally, it was almost surreal. Here you were, chatting with Drew Starkey like you were old friends, and he was genuinely interested in what you had to say.

You:

I loved it! It was such a wild ride from start to finish. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. And the cast is amazing—I can tell you all have great chemistry.

Drew Starkey:

We really do. It’s like a little family on set. I’m glad that comes across on screen.

There was a brief pause, and then another message came through.

Drew Starkey:

So, since we’re already chatting, mind if I keep following you? 😉

You couldn’t help but smile at the cheeky tone of his message. He was clearly teasing you, but there was something sweet about it, too.

You:

Well, I guess I can allow that. 😏

Drew Starkey:

Good to know I’m not banned from your profile. 😄

You:

Not at all. But now I feel like I have to step up my Instagram game. 😂

Drew Starkey:

No pressure! I’m just here for the good vibes and dog pics, if you have any.

You laughed, feeling completely at ease now. This whole situation had gone from panic-inducing to utterly charming in a matter of minutes.

You:

Well, you’re in luck. I do have a dog, and she’s very photogenic.

Drew Starkey:

Now I’m really glad I followed you. 🐶

The two of you continued chatting for a while, sharing stories about your pets, favorite shows, and the little things in life that made you happy. It was easy, comfortable, and fun—like catching up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while.

Eventually, you noticed the time and realized how late it had gotten.

You:

I should probably let you go. I didn’t mean to keep you up all night!

Drew Starkey:

No worries, this was fun. I’m glad you accidentally followed me. 😁

You:

Me too. Thanks for being so cool about it.

Drew Starkey:

Anytime. And hey, don’t be a stranger. Feel free to message me anytime.

You:

I will. Goodnight, Drew.

Drew Starkey:

Goodnight, Y/n.

You set your phone down with a huge smile on your face, your heart still fluttering from the unexpected turn of events. What had started as a simple curiosity had led to something much more—an actual conversation with Drew Starkey. And the best part? He’d followed you first.

[januaryembrs]

Bugsy and Spencer tea!!

the one with the card counting | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: Bugsy and Spence quarrel while playing Old Maid

length: 700 wds

set in the trouble almost all my life universe

“Spence, I love you, but if you try card counting in Old Maid one more time, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the flight,” Bugsy snipped, staring down at the man over their deck of cards, his hazel eyes narrowed and concentrated as he flicked through his hand. The joker card glared down at him from the dead centre, where he’d strategically placed it so she’d be more likely to take it when her turn came, though he’d been unsuccessful so far. 

She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was chewing them in frustration, eyes darting between the pile on the table of already used hands, the rest of the deck they were picking up from, and how many cards she had in her hand. 

“I’m not, and even if I was, it’s just math,” He replied in a defensive tone, knowing she’d already caught him out as he looked up at her, the red back designs fanning over her mouth and nose, though her annoyed expression was still clear as day to him. For a guy who rarely understood what people meant until they spelled it out verbally for him, Bugsy had always just seemed to make sense in his head, “I’m not cheating,”

He said it like someone who was trying to convince himself it was true, his eyes as innocent and none threatening as they would go, though he got that little notch between his brows that said he knew exactly what he was doing and felt bad for lying to her. 

Huffing, she drew her cards to her chest and setting her elbows on the table, Hotch to her left with an amused smile drawing at his lips as he tried to catch some sleep on the way home from a case, though the sound of the two agents bickering gave him some inflight entertainment at least. 

“Oh, really?” She asked, daring him to repeat himself even though saying it the first time had been hard enough, and Spencer simply nodded with a small ‘Mhm’, “Alright, smart guy, if we’re playing it like that then I’m taking this card,” Bugsy said, pulling the ace of spades he had sitting beside the joker with a pointed look on her face, “And the reason I want this one and not the one next to it is because I know that's where you put the old maid,” 

Spencer swallowed, the tip of his nose turning a blush, as he grit his teeth together in annoyance, “I guess the joke is on you, Miss Prentiss. I don’t even have the old maid,” He said, forcing his voice not to quake, and he sounded somewhat believable, at least that’s what he thought until he saw her brow raise, and he knew he was fucked.  

“Yeah? Government names is it?” She asked again, giving him chance to fix his error, only he doubled down with a second nod, his lips pursed. Her finger shot out to point to the joker card, where she could only see the intricate pattern that matched every other in his hand, “So this isn’t the Old Maid?” 

Spencer blinked once, the two of them exchanging a heated look like they were waiting for the smallest of breaks in character, and his breathing even despite the fact it was under duress, his expression abnormally calm as the jet went entirely silent, “Yes,” 

“Bullshit,” He quickly collected his cards to his lap and scrambled to shuffle them well enough that she wouldn’t guess which one was the dead card, his scowl spreading over his face.

“You cheater, you must have seen my cards, there’s no way to count where I put the joker, that is entirely by chance-” Spencer snapped back, flipping them between his long, lithe fingers as Bugsy giggled into her hand. 

“Play nicely, boys and girls,” Rossi chided where he had his nose buried in the newspaper, only glancing up to see Spencer glaring at the girl who sat opposite him with a victorious smirk. 

“Face it, Spencer Reid. You might be good, but I’m better.” Derek bit his lip to stop himself from laughing where he was eavesdropping on their game on the seats behind them, and he thought he might have to take it to his deathbed that he and the younger girl had swapped Spencer's cards out the second he went to the bathroom. Or maybe save it for a rainy day, when he really needed leverage against the stubborn girl and let them squabble in peace. 

Bugsy didn't tell him until a year later, the week before she left for London.

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 5

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper. A love like this is a dream.”

– Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

A/N : Idk if it good but i kinda felt like being sappy here.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4

The interview seemed to be going well, Y/N thought, watching from behind the scenes.

Aubrey had a knack for charming people with just one smile. She was relaxed as she spoke to Drew about her upcoming project, her confidence radiating in every word. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as Aubrey flirted playfully (Y/N couldn’t blame her—it’s Drew Barrymore, for crying out loud!) and teased her fans with a casual grin that always left her weak in the knees.

Drew seemed to enjoy the banter, too. The two of them joked effortlessly, with Drew throwing in a few personal questions—ones Aubrey had agreed to answer beforehand. Y/N could sense the moment she’d been both dreading and anticipating inching closer.

Their relationship.

For some reason, even after months, people couldn’t seem to let it go. The world was fascinated by the unlikely pairing, endlessly dissecting it. Y/N figured it was because she wasn’t famous, nor did she live a very public life. People were either intrigued by her anonymity or bitter, labeling her a gold-digger.

Her social media was private, her career was far from glamorous, and even when her future book will be finally published—her own book, not just something she’d co-edited—she knew she’d still be considered “ordinary” next to Aubrey. She wasn’t an actress, a model, or an influencer. She was just a small-town girl who, somehow, had caught the Aubrey Plaza’s attention—and love.

A montage of pictures suddenly appeared on the screen, paired with Drew’s next question. Y/N watched nervously.

The first photo showed her lying on top of Aubrey on their couch, fast asleep with her face buried in Aubrey’s stomach. Aubrey, meanwhile, was smiling like she’d won the lottery. The second image was a messy selfie of them covered in eggs and flour, laughing with huge, silly grins. The last was from a Marvel party they’d attended together: Aubrey’s hand rested possessively on Y/N’s waist as they leaned in close, noses almost touching. Y/N had a crinkle in her nose, clearly giggling at something Aubrey had whispered.

From her seat, Y/N noticed Aubrey shift slightly, sitting a little straighter. It was subtle, but Y/N could tell—her girlfriend was nervous.

“So, there are a lot of rumors about your relationship,” Drew began warmly. “It’s not new news, but somehow it’s still keeping people on their toes. How do you feel about that? And how’s your girlfriend handling it?”

Drew’s tone was light, like a friend genuinely curious, not a journalist digging for a scoop.

Aubrey smiled softly. “How do I feel about it? Well… I’ve had a few relationships in my life—some public, some less so. Most were great in their own ways. But honestly, this one? This one’s it for me. She’s my person, and I’m happy. I just wish people could be more supportive of that.”

She paused for a moment, glancing briefly behind Drew to catch Y/N’s eye. When she saw Y/N’s encouraging thumbs-up and grin, Aubrey’s smile grew.

“But I get it,” she continued. “People wonder, they talk—and that’s fine, I guess. It’s part of the package deal. I just wish the hate wasn’t part of it. It’s one thing when it’s the media. Neither of us cares what some sleazy tabloid writer thinks. But when it’s from people who call themselves fans? That stings. For both of us.”

Drew nodded, her expression understanding. “Do you think addressing it will change anything? Or are you worried it might even get worse?”

Aubrey shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not counting on this fixing anything. God, I hope it doesn’t get worse. But even if it does, we have a great relationship. I’m crazy about her, and that’s all that matters.”

She glanced over at Y/N and winked, making her laugh softly.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Drew teased, grinning.

The conversation moved to lighter topics, including Aubrey’s notorious pranks on set and an embarrassing story about the time she accidentally walked into the wrong bathroom at an awards show. The tension from earlier melted away as they both dissolved into laughter. Y/N knew fans would love this part. Aubrey seemed lighter, too, like addressing the issue had lifted a weight off her shoulders.

After the interview aired, the two decided to ditch their phones for the evening. They curled up on the couch in Aubrey’s apartment, embracing the quiet.

Y/N rested her head on Aubrey’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster,” she teased.

“Disaster? That was amazing,” Aubrey replied, reaching over to run her fingers through Y/N’s hair. “And I killed it, if I do say so myself.”

Y/N snorted. “Humble as ever.”

“Hey, it’s not bragging if it’s true.” Aubrey smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Besides, you were the real MVP, giving me that thumbs-up when I needed it. You’re my rock, you know that?”

“Stop. You’re making me blush,” Y/N mumbled, hiding her face against Aubrey’s neck.

“Good. You’re cute when you blush.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world and its noise fading away. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of the moment and the peace of being together, on their own terms.

The morning light crept into Aubrey’s apartment, highlighting the lazy entanglement of limbs on the couch. Y/N stirred first, groaning softly as the realization dawned that they’d fallen asleep there. Aubrey, half-awake, tightened her arm around Y/N’s waist.

“Don’t move,” Aubrey murmured, her voice husky with sleep. “You’re my pillow.”

Y/N chuckled, brushing her fingers through Aubrey’s messy hair. “We’re not even in bed. My neck is going to hate me for this later.”

“It’s a small price to pay for cuddles,” Aubrey countered, pressing her face into Y/N’s shoulder.

The moment was warm and serene, but the peace was short-lived. Y/N glanced at her phone on the coffee table, her curiosity getting the better of her. Against her better judgment, she reached for it.

As soon as she unlocked it, her screen lit up with notifications. Dozens of missed messages, tagged posts, and news alerts. A quick scroll through Twitter showed one trending topic: #AubreyAndYN.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, biting her lip. “Aubrey, we’re trending again.”

Aubrey groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back like a starfish. “Of course we are. Can’t the world leave us alone for one day?”

“It’s… different this time,” Y/N said hesitantly, scrolling further. “Look.”

Curiosity piqued, Aubrey sat up and leaned over Y/N’s shoulder. What they found was unexpected.

Instead of the usual nasty gossip or conspiracy theories, the feed was flooded with supportive messages and heartwarming edits. Fans had clipped moments from the interview, adding captions like, “Aubrey loves her GF so much, I’m crying 🥹” and, “Finally, they addressed the haters. Good for them!”

A particularly popular tweet featured the marvel party photo that had appeared in the interview. It was captioned, “Find someone who looks at you like Aubrey looks at Y/N. Relationship goals!”

Y/N scrolled further, finding more positive reactions. One user wrote, “I wasn’t sure about them at first, but seeing Aubrey defend her GF so fiercely? Respect.”

Another said, “Y/N’s clearly the happiest thing to happen to Aubrey. Why can’t we just let them be in love?”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow, amused. “Wow. Are we in the Twilight Zone? Where’s all the hate?”

“There’s still some,” Y/N admitted, gesturing to a few bitter comments. “But it’s… quieter than usual.”

Aubrey grinned, clearly pleased. “Looks like our plan worked. I told you people just needed to see how awesome you are.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “Sure. It’s totally because I’m awesome, not because you publicly declared your undying love for me on live television.”

“Well, that didn’t hurt,” Aubrey teased, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist and pulling her close. “Maybe I should do it more often.”

Y/N laughed, leaning into Aubrey’s embrace. “Let’s not push our luck.”

They spent the next hour scrolling through the posts, laughing at memes and reading comments aloud. By the time they set their phones down, the tension from the day before had all but disappeared.

Later, as they sat at the kitchen table, sharing a plate of pancakes Aubrey had lovingly burnt on one side, Y/N felt a strange sense of calm.

“You know,” she said, spearing a piece of pancake with her fork, “it’s kind of nice seeing people be supportive for a change.”

Aubrey nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah. Feels weird, though. Like, are we actually allowed to enjoy this?”

“I think so,” Y/N said with a small smile. “We deserve to enjoy it.”

Aubrey reached across the table to take Y/N’s hand, squeezing it gently. “We do. And for the record, I don’t care if we’re trending, ignored, or completely forgotten. As long as I have you, I’m good.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “You’re such a sap.”

“You love it,” Aubrey shot back, her grin mischievous.

“Unfortunately, I do.”

They spent the rest of the morning laughing, teasing each other, and stealing bites of pancake from the same plate. No matter what the internet thought of them, they were happy—and that was all that mattered.

[97keanu]

୨୧ request ୨୧ daddy dom jw! reader in a collar and leash! size kink!

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒍𝒚...

CW/Tags: smut, pet play, leash and collar, s&m dynamics, age gap, p in v, oral f/m receiving, trust dynamics, john is a VERY good dom <3, inexperienced!reader (to bdsm), commanding and authoritive john, use of daddy/puppy/good girl etc, SIZE KINK, John is a firm but caring dom, filthy smut, john ofc does after care, emotional reader after sex, might be the dirtiest thing I’ve written tbh…

Words: 5.3k

The steady rhythm of John Wick's footsteps on his morning walk always woke you up before your alarm. Like clockwork, he'd pass your house at 6:15 a.m., his black-on-black attire and leash in hand as his dog trotted obediently beside him. It was routine. Comforting. A reminder that the man next door wasn’t your typical middle aged dad-type—he didn’t care to invite you to the latest neighborhood cookout, or wave enthusiastically as he mowed his lawn on Sunday mornings. No, he was painfully, infuriatingly disciplined, in all he did.

At first, you only noticed him in passing. The quiet but polite neighbor who always nodded in acknowledgment, even when your conversations were limited to small talk at the mailbox. But something about John lingered: his presence, his patience, the way he seemed to see through people without saying a word. That quiet power drew you in before you even realized it, pulling you closer until your innocent hellos morphed into stolen glances—and eventually, something far less innocent.

Now, as you stood in his kitchen, sipping coffee while the leash you’d asked for sat coiled neatly on the counter, your heart raced in a way you hadn’t felt in years. John leaned against the doorframe, his gaze as steady as ever, though the hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You keep staring at that like you're second-guessing yourself," he said, voice low and deliberate. "Changed your mind?"

You shook your head, fingers brushing the leather. "Not exactly. Just... getting used to the idea."

"Good," he replied, stepping closer.

His shadow felt larger than life as he closed the space between you, the width of his chest splayed out over a black shirt, the cotton holding him close.

"Because I don’t do halfway. If this is what you want, you’ll give me everything. Understand?”

Your eyes don't know where to go, your legs shift, thighs squeezing nervously with a rush of fear and excitement. You've had fantasies about something like this sure, but you never really thought…

“Eyes up here, puppy…” his voice isn't asking for attention, it's commanding, authority ripe in his deep voice.

Your obedience was what drew him in. The way you looked up when told, eyes big and full of nothing less than the want to please, even the highest of demands.

“If you want to back out, simply shake your head no.” His eyes watched yours, letting silence fill the kitchen without any hint of awkwardness.

He waits, letting you decide for yourself before continuing. Your head remains glued in place, worried even the slightest of flinches may give away any second doubts, something that John may see and deem a reason to stop right here and now. Your eyes search his dark ones, and you watch his lips part once more, a deep breath inhaled there.

“Or, you can put on your collar like a good girl and we can get started.”

Each word makes your heart thump in your ears, excitement rushing into every cell of your body. Your fingers twitch, and your eyes flashback over to that tempting leather that calls to you. Somehow, you know if you go through with this, you will never really be the same, never able to go back to how you were, placating frat boys at your college and having mediocre sex with boys who never even cared if you enjoyed a second of it. No, if you do this, you’ll crave it for the rest of your life.

Your fingers lift, grazing across the dark marble counter until they reach smooth, black leather. A collar just for you, perfect for your pretty little neck, custom made with the finest materials John could find for you. Your mouth parts, and a shaky, but excited breath leaves you as you bring the collar up to your neck.

“That’s a my girl…” John sets his coffee on the counter, walking behind you and brushing your hair to the side.

You feel his large, warm hands touch the nape of your neck, electricity passing between the two of you, unspoken tension building between your legs as he finishes the buckle back there. He tightens it just enough to be snug, but no more. He lets your hair drop once more, then lets his hands encapsulate your shoulders, their firm roughness bringing heat to your skin.

“Let’s begin.”

꩜ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ✩ ୨୧˚

John had guided you—no, commanded you—into the living room, his hand firm but not forceful at the base of your neck as you followed his lead. The leash connected to your collar trailed in his other hand, the soft clink of the chain with each step grounding you. Your skin prickles, hyper aware of every move he makes, a wolf circling its prey before going in for the kill.

“Good,” he murmured, the single word full of approval as he turned you to face him, your heart blooming at the idea of pleasing him. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, roamed over you with an intensity that made your knees weak. “You’re already learning.”

You tried to swallow the knot in your throat, but his presence made it impossible. John Wick wasn’t the kind of man to rush anything—he took his time, measured and deliberate, savoring every reaction you gave him.

“Sit,” he instructed, gesturing to the plush ottoman in the center of the room. His voice was calm, as if you’d done this a hundred times before, and the weight of it settled over you like a blanket.

When you hesitated, his lips curved into a faint smile—not playful, but knowing. “Second-guessing yourself again?”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to displease or seem childish in front of him, sitting as instructed. The moment you obeyed, his long fingers hooked under your chin, his large hand tilting your face upward so you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. Those dark eyes pierce right into the very depths of your being as his soft lips move.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make the air between you feel electric. “Now, let’s see how far you’re willing to go.”

John continues circling you slowly, his footsteps deliberate, each one echoing softly in the quiet room. You felt his presence like a heavy shadow, his gaze burning into you even when he wasn’t directly in front of you.

“Do you know why I like this?” he asked, his voice calm, almost conversational.

The question makes you pause.

You hadn't considered it. You were used to men using you for your body, for their own pleasure, disregarding yours entirely. You figured it was any mans dream to have a sweet, supple young woman such as yourself, collared and begging to please their every whim. You briefly open your soft, glossy lips to reflect.

John stops behind you, his hand brushing lightly against the leash before pulling it taut—not enough to restrict, just enough to remind you it was there.

You shook your head, words failing you under the weight of his scrutiny.

“It’s not just the control,” he continued, his voice low, steady, and far too composed. “It’s the trust. The way you give yourself over to me without hesitation.”

His fingers trailed along your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It means you believe I’ll take care of you... even when I push you.”

You inhaled sharply, the meaning in his words sinking in.

“But trust,” he said, moving to stand in front of you again, “isn’t just given. It’s earned. And right now, you’re going to show me exactly how much you trust me.”

He crouched slightly, bringing himself to eye level with you, his sleek suit pants tight against his thighs, his expression unreadable yet entirely commanding. His hand tilted your chin up again, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw.

“Speak,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Do you trust me?”

You breathe, looking at the man before you, at his imposing presence and how easy it would be for him to take advantage of you at any moment. How you could just be another silly, young girl he's lured into his trap.

But your mouth says otherwise.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely audible, but it was enough to make his lips curl into that faint, knowing smile again.

“Good,” he said, his approval like a reward in itself. “Then you’ll listen. You’ll follow. You’ll let me guide you.”

He tugged gently on the leash, urging you to stand. The movement was unhurried, meticulous, as if he wanted you to feel every second of his control.

As you rose to your feet, his free hand pressed against the small of your back, steadying you. The simple act sent a jolt of awareness through your body, reminding you that while he held all the power in this moment, it wasn’t about domination—it was about connection. About trust.

“You’re doing well,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the leather of your collar before settling back on the leash. “But we’re just getting started.”

His hands gently leave you, and he steps away once more, eyes flickering across every inch of your body, taking you in.

“Strip.” he commands, his voice unyielding in authority.

You hesitate. You had never felt so subconscious of yourself as you did in this moment. It's not like you hadn't been seen naked before, but that was always hurried, dark dorm rooms and drunken kisses taking up most of your awareness. You had never been inspected the way John's dark eyes were watching you now.

His eyebrow flicks up for a moment, and you hesitate no longer, hands going up under your short black mini skirt to begin pulling down your stockings, the way you usually get undressed at home, without much care for the act.

John's hand gives the leash a tug as he speaks.

“Slower. Start at the top.”

You freeze, your mind overwhelmed by the scrutiny, but your need to please take over.

You straighten, eyes flicking from John to the floor and back again over and over as you slowly begin to unbutton your pale pink blouse. You think about it, taking a breath and releasing it slowly to calm yourself from all the attention, hands steadying and making sure to be intentional, calculated in their strokes.

You had never had to be sexy in front of someone like this, a worry forming in your brow and your excessive fluttering lashes as you wonder if you're accomplishing the job. John's eyes give nothing away, his gaze steady, as if testing just exactly how you will react to such stimuli.

You shrug your shoulders as your blouse begins to gently glide off, falling down to your elbows and exposing your pretty pink bra beneath, complete with lace and bows. You wonder if you seem too inexperienced, too girlish, a waif who knows nothing of this dominant world that John is so clearly a part of.

As your first article of clothing falls to the floor, John gives the slightest of approving nods, and nothing more, eyes hungry to see just what else you will do.

Your hands reach behind your back to unbutton your bra, but you see John give a shake of his head, and your hands fall anxiously onto your thighs.

Right, right. Slow. Sexy. Deliberate.

You instead do something bold. Turning around, one step after another, a click of a heel then the other. Your manicured hands come under the waistband of your cream mini skirt, slowly but surely shimming the soft fabric down. You feel the bare parts of your ass tingle against the chill of the room, matching lacy panties snug against your skin, white stockings sheer in the light.

You can't see his face, and for a moment you wonder if you've killed the mood entirely until you hear him release a breath.

“Good.”

This one's softer than the others.

Your skirt pools at your ankles, and you slowly step one foot out, the other kicking the fabric away.

You take a moment, your back still to him, and you let your eyes close as you compose the butterflies fluttering deep in your stomach.

Your hands reach once more behind you, your bra seemingly the next logical clothing item to go.

You didn't realize John had come so close behind you, a frightened gasp slipping from your pink, pouty lips as his hands circle around both your wrists.

“Let me savor you.” His voice drips with want, his nose and mouth pressed against the back of your head, taking your scent in.

As he breathes you in, you feel your body press into his, his warmth, his tight suit, his hard cock pressed against your ass.

A moan escapes you as his hands come to your waist, touching the exposed skin of your midriff, goosebumps left in the wake of his lingering fingertips.

“John…” You breath out, and you feel a hand take the leather of your leash once more, a firm tug to let you know your place.

“You may call me master, sir, whatever signature of authority you choose, but never John.” He whispers it into your ear, his breath tickling you and his serious tone sending shivers all the way down your spine.

You mull this over, your lips curling into a smile as you finally land on the right one.

“Daddy…” you breathe out, a bit nervous to use it out loud for the first time, but knowing you’ve been thinking it ever since you laid eyes on John.

John chuckles in your hair softly, and you can feel his lips smile against you.

“Daddy it is…” he softly agrees, then pauses before letting out a long breath.

His heat moves away from your back, his hand moving around your neck gently as he comes to face you from the front. His eyes search yours deeply for a moment before speaking.

John’s thumb traced a slow, deliberate circle against your collarbone, the silence stretching between you like a live wire. His gaze softened, just for a moment, a rare glimpse of something gentler beneath his steady exterior.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, a quiet reassurance that sent warmth blooming in your chest. “But we’re not done yet.”

The leash in his hand shifted slightly, the chain catching the light as he gave the slightest tug. The motion drew your attention—and your body—closer to him.

“Kneel,” he said, his tone calm but leaving no room for question.

You blinked up at him, the weight of the command settling over you. His hand moved to cradle your cheek, his touch firm yet tender.

“No hesitation,” he reminded you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Show me you’re ready for this.”

The steady authority in his voice made it impossible to resist, and you sank to your knees without a second thought, the floor cold even through your stockings. As soon as you did, John let out a satisfied hum, the corner of his mouth lifting in approval.

“Perfect,” he said, tilting your chin upward again, his fingers brushing your skin like a promise. “Now, keep your eyes on me.”

Your big eyes gaze up at him, lashes fluttering with the slightest hint of confusion before reminding yourself that you need to put your trust in him. Your heart races in your throat as his size-able hands reach down to his belt, the cold sound of metal clinking against itself and leather ruffling through fabric echoes through the room as he slowly slips his belt off. You gaze in wonder for what is to come next, your mouth opening as if to ask then closing again as you remind yourself of your position here.

John wraps the belt around one arm, leaving it there. With the other he holds your leash, his dark eyes bore into yours.

“Take my cock out.” He instructs, and your immediate reaction is to flush, a heat rising in your cheeks hotter than it ever has.

You feel like a fish gasping for air on dry land as the command washes over you. You blink a few times before the tug of your collar grounds you back into reality, and you look to where you can see the massive outline of John's cock showing against his black suit pants, tight and ready to be released.

You look back up into his eyes, and without another word, your hands begin fumbling with the button and zipper, your big doe eyes searching his for that much needed approval.

“Y-yes…” You whisper, barely audible to keep yourself going, and you feel John's hand tighten its grip on your leash.

“Yes, what?” He raises an arched dark brow, his expectations in his eyes.

“Yes, Daddy…” You fumble a few times more with the zipper as the words drip from your mouth, sweet as honey.

“That’s a good girl…”

As the zipper comes to it's final resting place at the base of John's cock, you press beneath the waistband of his underwear, almost struggling to get a cock of his size out from such a cramped space.

Heat radiates from there, your hand almost refusing to wrap all the way around his shaft as it pops out in front of your face, dangling there with all its girth and surprising length.

Oh god…

You wonder how you will anything that size anywhere inside of you, and your pussy aches as you think of it filling you all the way to the brim. You feel your mouth water as you look back up at John from his cock, your eyebrows pressed together in worry and lust.

“Alright, puppy,” John sighs out, a smirk curled on his lips at your reaction. “Let’s see just how much your mouth can take…”

You gulp back fear, and look back at his cock, two hands coming up to grip it from both sides. You breathe out slow, and you consider all the other cocks you've taken before, but none have even compared to the one before you.

You bring your mouth to his tip, pressing it against the flat of your tongue, taking a few long licks and savoring his taste. Your eyes meet his, hoping desperately you're being a good girl as you move to take more and more of him into your mouth. He fills every inch, and soon enough, you've barely got half of his cock in your mouth before he's reached the back of your throat. A slight sense of panic starts to wash over you as you consider the very real possibility that you won't be able to get all the way to the base of his cock, and you squirm as you try to readjust in a way that might.

“Take your time,” John whispers while letting a hand come to rest on the back of your head, his fingers gently petting your hair there. You can't help but moan into his cock, the feeling of being treated as such making you wetter by the minute.

You work his shaft with your hands, trying your best to get him down the back of your throat over and over as you begin to pick up speed. You notice that certain things you're doing right now illicit a moan from John, like swirling your tongue or twisting your hands just right, and you almost whimper into his cock as you realize what a good girl you're being.

“That’s right puppy, take as much as you can…” John's hand begins to apply pressure to the back of your head, slowly but surely forcing you deeper and deeper onto his cock until you're practically choking on it.

Your whimpers get cut off by his huge cock filling up your throat, and your toes curl beneath you as your knees begin to scream against the hardwood floors. You squeeze your eyes closed tight, trying your hardest to not let any discomfort come between you and being a good puppy.

Your nose begins to hit against his lower stomach, your mouth filled with spit that has no where to go, your pretty little throat tight around his cock. John’s hips buck into your mouth, controlled thrusts forcing himself deeper until you don't think you can take anymore, until the breath in your lungs swells up from being cut off so often, and your moans are silenced by John’s hand working your head into his cock and keeping it there for way too long. You squirm, your weight shifting in your thighs and your cunt dripping with want, your eyes beginning to water and looking up at him with the most pleading, desperate look.

John grips your hair one last time and pulls the entirety of his cock out of you, your breath suddenly rushing back in, a few coughs and a trail of spit from you to him as well.

John’s breath seems to be stolen for a moment as well, his hand rubbing your head with respect and admiration for your job well done.

“God…” He catches his breath, looking down at you with thinly veiled awe. “You’ve been such a brave girl for me, taking all that cock.”

You have no idea what you look like staring up at him from the floor, your make up beginning to slide down your cheeks from the tears that welled up, but you imagine you're beaming at him. Hearing him say that has you in a daze of euphoria, and you nod along, his hand coming from your head to cup your face softly.

“Does a good pet like you deserve a treat?” He smiles gently as you nod into his hand, your eyes closing from working so hard.

He leans down and gently lifts you from the floor, picking you up effortlessly, as if your weight meant nothing to him. You watch his strong arms tense under his shirt, and you practically swoon.

He takes you over to a nearby chair, laying you in it softly and beginning to kneel now himself, positioned between your legs. You look down at him, lids half closed and still out of it from the throat fucking you just took, watching as his hands take in your legs, rubbing all the way up to between your thighs and grabbing your stockings there.

Before you can question just what he's doing, John’s strong hands grip the white see through material there and tear, a startling rip making you jump for a moment and hold your breath. Before you can react to John ruining your pair of stockings, he slides your pretty pink panties to the side to expose your glistening cunt, and your legs tremble for a moment, considering closing in embarrassment before his hands firmly open you back up.

“Don’t you dare try to hide such a pretty pussy from me ever again.” He looks up at you with hunger and adoration. “Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy…” You nod eagerly, body tense with want and waiting for what comes next.

He watches you for a moment, making sure you really understand, before diving in.

You gasp as his mouth refuses to hesitate, refuses to let you acclimate to the warmth of this tongue and the softness of his lips. Instead, he devours you, sucking on your clit until it stands to attention, aching and wanting more. He laps at your juicy cunt with relish, savoring how good you taste on his tongue, his fast and short breaths tickling every part of you down there. Your hands clutch the arms of the leather chair, your legs up over his shoulders and your heels clacking behind his head as he bobs up and down on your pussy, licking every inch of you he can.

“Fuck,” You moan out as you feel yourself shaking at his every touch, your heart beating out of your chest.

With the hand that’s not keeping your panties out of the way, he lets two fingers soak up your wetness before slowly making their way inside of you. He refocuses his mouth on your clit, his fingers twisting and testing just how well you adjust. You cry out, trying not to curse so much but you can’t help yourself. It’s as if your body has been possessed with lust and ignited by John Wick’s tongue.

”Oh god, John, I think I’m going to cum!” You feel that familiar tightness in your lower stomach begin to build, your thighs tensing and attempting to close in on John’s head.

“You better not, puppy!” John pulls off of your clit, mouth soaked and shiny from your wetness, his hands moving to opening you nice and wide as well as giving your collar a firm tug to bring you off of the edge.

You practically yelp from the sudden difference, your chest heaving, your eyes unfocused and confused from being stolen away from such a beautiful wave of pleasure.

“Not until I get my thick cock inside that tight cunt of yours.” John warns, moving to line his throbbing cock up with your entrance.

You gulp back fear as he taps his cock against your cunt, the heaviness of it bouncing off of you as you shudder.

“Now, are you going to be a good puppy who waits to cum until Daddy tells her too?” His tone makes you remember your place in all of this, makes you remember that you have no say in when you derive your pleasure.

All you can do is nod, wide doe eyes looking from his to his cock with wanton want.

“I need to hear you say it.” He growls as he rubs himself against you, his length evident as he does so and beginning to make your stomach squirm in worry.

“Y-yes…” You breathe out, forgetting the rules as you focus on just how much cock you will soon be taking.

“Yes, what?” John growls as he lets the tip of his cock play with the idea of entering you.

“Yes,” You take a deep breath, bracing for what he’s about to do. “Daddy…”

John’s hips snap back, the forward, slamming the entirety of his cock into you in one swift blow. You have never felt such a rush of pleasure and pain at the same time, a guttural cry escaping your mouth and your hands leaving marks in his expensive leather chair.

“Oh, John…” You cry out as he thrusts into you, his want taking over, his need beginning to spiral out of control.

“What was that?” He mocks the use of his real name with harder thrusts, his breath coming quicker and heavier as the seconds pass.

“D-ad-dy-“ You moan out, the word cut off by each powerful thrust, the movement taking over the whole of your body.

“That’s it darling,” He closes his eyes, getting lost in just how tight you feel around his cock, just how warm it is inside you. “Touch yourself like a good girl, now.”

You do as he instructs, the feeling of your fingers circling your throbbing clit taking away some of the edge of the pain of his massive cock, and you bite into your lip to try to stop from cumming right then and there.

You have to be a good girl for him, you have to do what Daddy says and wait for him to tell you to cum.

You never thought you would see John lose such control, lose himself inside of you and let go of such rigid mannerisms. His long hair falls into his face, a slight gleam of sweat building up on his shoulders as he puts all he can into fucking the absolute shit out of you, using up every inch of you he can, pressing himself so deep inside you, you don’t think you’ll ever be the same again.

You play with your clit intermittently, having to stop now and then to keep yourself from falling over the edge and cumming right then and there. It’s pure torture, you can barely keep up with it all.

John’s muscles tighten, and you can see he’s getting closer. You hear soft moans coming from him, held back by only the slightest bit of control he has left. As his cock swells inside you, the raw feeling of him sliding in and out overwhelms your senses. You feel as if you’ve never been this full before, never been fucked as deep as you have now, and you know that nothing else will compare ever again. Your moans become incoherent, hands gripping for anything they can get a hold of, legs wrapped around John’s waist as he pulls himself in deeper, deeper, deeper…

”Please Daddy…” You whisper out, barely able to form the words. “Can I please cum?”

John groans, his teeth gritting, and nods.

“Yes, babygirl…” He huffs.

You take no time waiting, your fingers dashing around your clit in mad circles as he continues filling you up over and over again, hitting just the right spots inside you effortlessly. You feel yourself tense more than ever, your legs clamping down around his waist, your pussy tighter than ever around his thick cock. John lets the last bit of control he has go as your cum around his cock, your cunt fluttering and throbbing, leaving him no choice but to spill the biggest load of cum inside you you’ve ever had. He moans out, unable to keep himself from doing as such, his breaths shaky and his hips rocking out the last few bits of pleasure that they can. You ride his wave, bucking with him and taking everything you can like the good puppy you are. John practically collapses into you, the arms of the chair keeping his full weight from weighing down on you.

He leaves his cock inside you, letting it throb out any final bits of cum for the moment, his face close to yours, your breath intertwining with his. Both of your eyes are closed, but his mouth finds yours with ease, those soft lips of his tiredly taking soft kisses and whimpers from you.

Finally, when he has the strength, John Wick stands, slowly pulling out of you, his hot cum leaking out of your abused hole. He pushes his mess of long, dark locks out of his face, then looks down at you with half open eyes, before leaning down to scoop you up. He takes you to a larger couch, where you can both sprawl out more, collapsing into it with you in his arms.

He says nothing for a moment, the sounds of his breath and heartbeat beneath your cheek as you try to catch your own, completely out of it by now.

You feel his big hand begin petting your sweaty hair, stroking it with softest, most admiring touches. Your ears ring as you come down from it all, and eventually you make a sound that isn’t his heart or his breath.

“You did such a good job…” He breathes out in tired, half mumbles. ”I’m so proud of you…”

Your heart swells, and the exhilaration and emotion gets to you, tears welling up in your eyes. You dip your head into the crook of his chest and arm, hiding your face as to not embarrass yourself from crying after sex.

“Oh, come here, darling.” John purrs, pulling you closer, gently rubbing your back as you let it all out.

“You’re safe,” He whispers to you. “I got you, you’re safe right here, baby.”

He purrs sweet compliments and assures your safety over and over, gently kissing the top of your head. You let the emotions come and pass into pure bliss, and eventually, to the sound of his soft cooing words, you fall asleep in John Wick’s arms.

[fivelila]

Did Five love Lila before the subway?

Well, this is a question only he knows the answer to, but today I found myself reflecting on a few scenes, and I want to share my thoughts and observations with you...

Season 2

At first, Five pretty much ignored Lila, seeing her merely as Diego's girlfriend from the mental hospital. Later, he sensed she might be lying about who she really was. In the scene where she saves him from the Swede, his expression clearly shows he’s surprised. I think that’s the moment she genuinely caught his attention—for the first time. Of course, his caution won out, and he kept an even closer eye on her. Still, I believe this was a pivotal moment.

During their first fight, Five was clearly the superior one and could have won easily. However, his triumphant gaze at her held something else: he was enjoying it. I think he found her challenging and intriguing, which drew him in.

Five bluntly tells Diego the truth about Lila, even though he sees how hurt Diego is. He throws it in his face, emphasizing that he himself is the reason they got together (more on this in Season 3).

The second fight is far more intense, with Lila determined to kill him. At this point, Five likely believed she was just another tool of the Handler and saw her as a threat he’d eliminate if necessary.

When he learns the truth about her parents, his reaction shows genuine shock. He realizes she has personal, valid reasons for targeting him. This revelation shifts his perspective; from this point, I believe he no longer truly wants to harm her.

Season 3

When Five discovers Lila has returned, she’s the only one he wants to partner with. Yes, he values her skills, but was that the only reason? I think he also wanted her company.

The bathroom scene is a chapter of its own. He must have known she was still angry with him. In this fight, it feels like Five is more focused on defending himself than actually attacking her. When Lila calls it off, he stops immediately and engages with her about the situation. This scene feels like a way to clear the air between them. And honestly, barging into someone’s bathroom isn’t exactly normal behavior—he was really asking for it. And that stance of his while talking to her? Well…

Later, when they argue, Five tells her Diego probably truly loves her. This moment stands out. Was he doing it for Diego? I don’t think so. He likely suspected "her son" might be part of her revenge plan, but why bring up Diego’s feelings? In Season 2, he didn’t seem interested in matchmaking for Diego. Could it have been for himself? To stop Lila from leaving later? Perhaps he knew the only reason she might stay was Diego.

Five understands that, because of her parents, Diego, and his own age issue, he didn’t stand a chance with her at that time. If she left, he might never see her again (I doubt he guessed she was pregnant). Reconciling her with Diego was likely the only way to keep her around. Or perhaps reflecting his own (burgeoning / unacknowledged) feelings?

At the Commission, when Lila leaves the bunker, Five glances at her in a way that suggests he doesn’t want the world to end—partly because that would mean losing her, too.

Later on, it's just small moments, but still iconic, like their dance and the apparent shift towards a truce between them.

Season 4

After six years, we don’t know much about how often Five and Lila saw each other. But given their somewhat normal lives, it likely happened a few times. Even though the first episode of the season makes it seem like most of the characters haven't seen each other in years, presenting some information in the style of family members interacting for the first time in years (well, it wasn't happily done).

The banter between Lila and Five persists, but there’s also trust. Once again, it’s just the two of them teaming up for a new mission. It’s clear by now that he genuinely cares about her and wants to protect her.

When Five talks to Diego about burying something deep and pouring concrete over it, it feels personal. What could he be referring to more than his soft spot for Diego’s wife? He also talks about Lila not giving up what she has - as if he had thought about it before.

He also agrees to her crazy idea. As in Season 3, he likely saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with her while solving mysteries.

And the subway? We all know. Only a blind person wouldn’t see that Five had fallen completely in love with her during those years. Despite the insane situation, he looked happier than ever. His smiles were genuine... and so were his glances at Lila.

So... When did he fall in love with Lila?

I think, It likely built up over time, like a snowball rolling downhill, starting from the very beginning. But the subway gave him the chance to fully embrace those feelings, and their greenhouse gave him the courage to act on them.

What do you think?

[n0vazsq]

No.1 Party Anthem | JMM21 x Reader

pairing . . . pepe marti x reader

summary . . . After meeting Pepe at a party, you can't help but feel nervous, and as the music plays, you realize that this might be the start of something more

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 2k+

warnings . . . idk

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . longest and fav fic ever <33 PLEASE BLOW THIS UPPP

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . The evening was warm, the air thick with the sound of laughter and the low hum of conversation. The music from the stereo played in the background, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the chatter of the voices surrounding you, the clink of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was just another night at a friend's party, nothing special, until you noticed him.

Pepe, of course. It wasn’t unusual to see him at these things. He was one of those people everyone knew, the spotlight at every gathering, always charming and effortlessly confident.

Tonight, though, something about the way he stood across the room, eyes scanning the crowd, made your heart skip a beat. You tried not to look at him too much, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop once you did. But it was impossible to ignore the way his presence filled the room. Like he belonged in the center of every conversation, every joke, every glance.

He caught your eye. Of course he did.

For a moment, everything else seemed to blur out of focus; the laughing friends, the flashing lights of the party, even the music. It was just him, looking at you like he was trying to figure you out, but there was no time for you to wonder about his intentions.

He was already pushing his way through the crowd, effortlessly weaving between people like he was born to be the center of attention. And maybe he was.

You’d known Pepe for a while now, though not in the way most people thought. You had never quite been the type to fall into random friendships or quick acquaintanceships. But somehow, Pepe had carved his way into your life, whether you liked it or not.

It started with casual hangouts, group meetups at a friend's place, all of you laughing and talking over drinks, with Pepe always at the center, gathering all attention without even trying.

It was his dry humor that first drew you in, the way his eyes would light up when he said something ridiculously amusing, and how he somehow made everyone feel like they were part of some private joke.

You never meant to get close to him; he was a guy who liked to keep his distance, always a little out of reach. But then one night, during a particularly chaotic gathering at a friend's house, you found yourselves sitting together on the balcony, away from the noise of the party. It was there you first had a real conversation.

"Do you ever stop moving?" you’d asked him with a smirk, leaning against the railing and watching the city lights flicker in the distance. "Like, are you ever just still?"

Pepe had laughed, a soft sound that matched the sorrowful undertone of his voice. "Sometimes. Only when I don’t have a choice. But I guess the stillness scares me."

His gaze had drifted to the horizon, and you could tell there was more behind those words, something deeper than what you were used to with him. He wasn’t just the centre of the party.

That conversation led to another, and then another. Slowly, without either of you really noticing, you’d become something more than just two acquaintances. You’d find yourselves sitting together in the corners of parties, talking about anything and everything. Life, love, and what came next.

There was always an air of unspoken tension between you two, something undeniable that neither of you was willing to put a name on.

Before you knew it, he was standing right in front of you, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You tried to stay cool, but your pulse was already picking up. "Hey," he said, his voice casual, almost teasing. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Same," you replied with a shrug, trying to mask the sudden rush of adrenaline that hit you. His presence was almost suffocating. "Just wanted to get out for a bit."

"Smart move." He grinned, leaning in a little closer, and you had to fight the urge to step back. The look in his eyes was too intense, too knowing. "The night’s still early."

You could hear the muffled sound of the chorus of the song blasting through the speakers, but it seemed like everything else was drowned out by the tension building between you two. 'Come on, come on, come on,' the lyrics echoed, and it was like a dare. You could feel it.

The rush of blood filled your ears, and your heartbeat seemed to sync with the beat of the song. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, but something about him, something about the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered at that moment, had your head spinning.

"Not sure if this is my place," you said, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them.

He laughed softly, like he already knew you were lying, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh. "You look like you could handle it."

Before you could say anything else, he was already guiding you into the center of the room, his hand brushing against yours as he led you toward a group of people huddled together near the makeshift bar. You could hear the laughter, see the flash of a few cameras catching nostalgic moments.

And then, as if everything was moving in slow motion, you felt it. His fingers curling around your wrist, pulling you in closer, until the space between you felt impossibly small.

"Let’s make this the number one party anthem, yeah?" he whispered, his voice playful but with a hint of something more.

"Alright, but no promises," you shot back, but you were already leaning in, drawn to him like you couldn’t fight it.

The song shifted, and the lights dimmed just a bit, giving everything a hazy glow. People scattered across the room, some dancing, some just talking, others gathered in groups in corners, but none of it seemed as important as the way his eyes were locked on you.

He took a slow step back, watching you like he was waiting for something.

A signal, a cue.

The shutterbugs flashed from across the room, cameras capturing memories that would last longer than the night. The scene was familiar, almost like something out of a movie. People laughing, couples whispering in corners, the flashing lights turning everything into a surreal moment.

"The 'She's with me' is the Gallic shrug," he murmured, almost to himself, but you caught the words. You weren’t sure if he was saying them to boast or if it was something deeper, but you didn’t have time to think about it.

His gaze held yours, and suddenly, everything felt like it was moving in rhythm with the song. The beats pulsed in your veins, the moment pressing closer.

Pepe smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing. "We could have this kind of night. The house of fun, the good time girls, the cubicles, the black and white and the color dodge." He seemed to be listing off everything the night had to offer, but you weren’t listening to the words anymore.

You were watching him, feeling the magnetic pull between you.

For a second, the noise around you faded. The lyrics flowed through your mind, the words repeating over and over again like some kind of mantra.

"The look of love, the rush of blood…"

You could feel it, how every touch, every glance felt like a moment too big to grasp but too important to let slip away.

"Come on," he said again, that look in his eyes softer now, teasing but full of something else. Something that made your stomach flip. "Before the moment’s gone."

You nodded, as if there was anything else you could say. The night was here, the music was pumping, the laughter was loud, but none of it mattered. It was just the two of you in the center of this chaotic blur of lights, heat, and bodies.

Pepe’s hand found your shoulder, guiding you toward him until your bodies were close, almost too close. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your head spinning from the proximity, the heat between you two, and the music that kept urging you forward. You couldn't help but lean towards his body, towards his touch.

But tonight, it felt different. The air between you both was electric, crackling with something you couldn’t ignore anymore. You were no longer hiding behind jokes and smart comments.

"Is that your way of telling me I should kiss you now?" Pepe teased, his voice low and soft as he stepped a little closer, the words rolling off his tongue like they were nothing, yet you could feel the weight of them.

You raised an eyebrow, the heat creeping up your neck at how close he was. "I never said that."

Pepe’s grin widened, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. "You didn’t have to." He brushed a strand of hair out of your face gently, and for a second, time seemed to slow down. His touch lingered, just for a beat, enough to make your heart race.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You both knew the game you were playing, the way the night was pushing you closer to something neither of you was ready to define.

But neither of you could look away from the other, trapped in the magic of the moment, the 'before the moment’s gone' feeling that kept the tension alive.

You swallowed, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to spread across your face. "Well, you might just be right," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his just as the song reached its peak. The chorus hit, and you felt everything fall into place. This moment, this feeling, everything.

Just like the song promised, you were caught in the rush of blood, the look of love in his eyes, and the heat of the party surrounding you both.

That was all it took for him to close the distance between you, his lips finding yours with the intensity of everything unspoken that had passed between you two over the past months.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, as if both of you were waiting for the other to pull back. But when neither of you did, it deepened, like the moment had finally arrived and there was no turning back.

And then the song shifted, the chorus pounding in your chest like a heartbeat, and the world around you felt like it disappeared.

It was just the two of you. The look of love, the rush of blood, and the pull of something that felt like it could be more than just another night, just another party.

For once, you didn’t want the moment to end.

"Come on, come on, come on," he whispered against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile.

"Before the moment's gone," you finished for him, and for the first time in a long time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, the moment you’d been waiting for was finally here.

It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a quick thing, a flirtation, a fun moment in the midst of a party. But as the night wore on and the lyrics repeated in your mind, you realized that maybe this was something you wouldn’t let go of so easily.

"Number one party anthem," you whispered into his ear, and he smiled like he already knew what you meant.

For now, the night was yours.

[puttersmile]

Crittertember Day 16: Sleeping

Yes have some more Puppylove! And a oneshot to go with it!

When the skies darkened Dogday had a sinking feeling it was too late to leave.  He’d lost track of time and without warning a sudden  thunderstorm rolled in. The thunder rumbled, making Dogday tense up and his tail sag. He had always tried to hide his fear of storms, even though his friends knew. 

Bobby didn’t like it much either, but as the storm intensified and it became clear that Dogday couldn’t leave, she nervously suggested,

 “Why don’t you, uh, stay the night? We could… keep each other company?” Bobby saw the rain pouring in sheets outside her window. “ Like maybe we could–”

“S-sleep together? Like… in the bed? Under the covers? The same bed? The both of us?” Dogday stammered, trying to play dumb to mask his own nervousness. 

Bobby blushed but nodded.. “Yes, in the same bed. We’ll be more comfortable that way, and it’s not like I want to face this storm alone.”

Dogday gulped. “I mean, I can always take the couch…”

Bobby shook her head quickly. “No, really. I’d feel better if you were with me. It’s already late enough as it is.” Bobby genty pulled his hand. "Promise I won't bite."

Dogday couldn’t help but laugh, albeit shyly. “Well, when you put it that way… Okay, I’m in. But fair warning, I might need to hold onto something if the thunder gets too loud.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Well, as long as that ‘something’ happens to be me, I think we’ll be just fine.”

She lead him to her room, the storm outside seemed to boom only half as hard as Dogday’s heartbeat. Yet it also made the space feel cozier despite the crackling tension in the air. They settled into bed, a timid excitement bubbling up as they cuddled close. 

Dogday was hyper-aware of her warmth, the scent of her fur, and the steady rhythm of her breathing. It felt right, yet the newness of it all made his pulse race.

Another boom of thunder rolled through, and Dogday instinctively pulled her closer. 

“You weren’t kidding about needing to hold onto something, huh?” Bobby teased.

Dogday smiled sheepishly. “Guess not.” He glanced around, “You know, this is pretty scandalous. What will our friends think?”

Bobby grinned, playing along. “They’ll probably be jealous they’re not getting a warm hug from someone as awesome as me.”

Dogday snickered as he eased his side into one of Bobby’s oversized pillows. “You’re probably right.”

At that moment, Bobby leaned in and began peppering his face and neck with soft kisses, each one sending a thrill through her dog friend, his tail thumping against the blankets wildly. Enraptured by her affection, he managed to joke, 

“H-hey, Bobs! You know, I’m starting to think you wanted the storm to get me into this kind of position!”

Bobby pulled back just enough to smirk at him, her eyes gleaming. “That’s a strong possibility, but I’ll admit nothing.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, the storm outside no longer feeling like a threat but more like a backdrop to this moment.

Bobby broke the silence with a soft voice, “You know, I’ve imagined this… falling asleep with you. It’s nice, even if I didn’t picture the thunder.”

Dogday’s heart swelled, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Me too. And I don’t care about the thunder as long as you’re here.”

Bobby giggled. “It can’t hurt you as long as I’m around.”

Dogday yawned. “My hero.”

Bobby smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the blankets wrapped around them. “Well, in that case, I guess we’ll have to make this a regular thing.”

Dogday chuckled, the sound soft and comforting as he started drifting into sleep. Finally his tail rested.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

AN: I doggedly continue making Crittertember art. They should be under the blankets but I drew them first and didn't want to erase half their body lol.

[matcha-milkies]

LOVE? ACTUALLY?

Summary: In which Mabel and Ford are both aromantic, and neither of them has the vocabulary to express it.

A sequel to “Well, You Did Ask.”

Relationships: Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines (Mentioned), Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines (Mentioned)

Tags: Humor, Family Bonding, Past Relationships, Advice

Word Count: 1,584

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I once saw a post talking about how Mabel could be aromantic because she seems really in love with the idea of being in love and picks a lot of random people to have crushes on, and as an aro person that felt SCARILY familiar lol so here you go.

Ford is aro gay <3

“Ugh.” Mabel draped herself over the arm of the couch like a piece of laundry, stomach down, long hair flopping. “I can’t believe I’m 15 and still single! I’m never gonna get a long-term boyfriend!”

Ford, who had been preparing himself tea in the kitchen nearby, poked his head into the room, as though to ascertain whether his great niece was talking to him. They were the only two in the shack right now, aside from Waddles, so it was a 50-50 chance. 

Well, maybe 25-75. In Waddles’s favor.

“Grunkle Ford,” she lifted herself a little and drew back the curtain of her hair so that her eyes peeked through, “when did you first get serious with someone?”

Despite being addressed directly, Ford still glanced over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind him, perhaps some alternate-dimension Stanford Pines who was better equipped to answer such a question. “Serious?” He tugged at the collar of his sweater as obscenely equilateral imagery flashed across the backs of his eyelids. “W-Well, I suppose it depends on what you define as serious.”

“I dunno, I guess it’s serious when you both agree it’s serious?” She frowned at the ceiling helplessly before slumping back over the arm of the couch. Her voice came out muffled. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’ve ever been in a serious relationship.”

Tea in hand, Ford stepped more fully into the room, looking about as comfortable as he’d been at his first college party (he’d been dragged there against his will, obviously). Come on, Ford. A few sage words from her great uncle. That’s all she’s asking for. A few times, he opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. Luckily, conversations with Mabel did not require much input from the second party.

“I mean, Dipper is dating Pacifica! For a whole year now! I can’t believe he beat me! How does that even happen?”

Ford chuckled a little to himself, remembering high school, when Stan had teased him for having a girlfriend before Ford did. “Well, Mabel, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone goes at their own pace.”

“Urgh! But I want a boyfriend now! I don’t wanna waaaaaait.” She kicked her feet in agitation. “Is it so much to ask? To have someone in my life who makes me feel special?”

Ford knit his brows and seated himself at the nearby table, setting his mug down. “I understand your frustration, but, Mabel, I…” The man rested his head on his hand for a few moments, contemplating how best to put it. “I fear you’re looking at this all the wrong way.”

She peered up at him, leery. “What do you mean?”

He stirred the metal spoon in his tea, lazily winding it around the ceramic rim. “If all you’re looking for is someone to make you feel special… I worry you might end up with someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”

“Oh, Grunkle Ford, I’ll be fine.”

He had started talking before she even finished her last word. “I’m serious. You have to be careful who you give yourself to. You become so desperate not to feel alone that you-you rush into things blindly, without thinking, without stopping to consider the ulterior motives your partner might have, and before you know it—”

“Hey! I don’t do any of those things,” Mabel protested, even though she very much did do all of those things in that exact order, and also even though Ford had not been talking about her.

“My- My point is,” he went on, taking a steadying breath, “you shouldn’t settle for less. One way or another, you’ll find special people to be in your life. I know it’s not quite what you’re looking for, but you’ve already got a wonderful brother.”

Mabel flopped onto her back and stretched the skin beneath her eye in distress. “But what if he marries Pacifica and I barely see him anymore? I’ll have nobody!”

“Dipper cares for you very deeply, Mabel. I doubt the two of you will ever drift apart.”

“Mmmmm,” Mabel groaned.

“But let’s say hypothetically you did,” Ford proposed. “You’d still have me and Stanley. You’d have your friends, your parents. Waddles, of course. And any number of new friends that you’re going to make in the coming years. I of all people can’t guarantee that relationships won’t fall to pieces. What I do know is that there’s always someone waiting for you on the other side, if you’re willing to let them in.”

“Aww… I guess that is kind of sweet.” She finally rearranged herself so that she was sitting normally. “Say, Grunkle Ford, you never told me about your first serious relationship.”

“I- Oh, you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes I do! Come ooooon, I’m so bored! Storytime! Storytime!”

“W- I- Um.”

“Wait.” Mabel narrowed her eyes. “You’re getting all weird the way Dipper does when he has something embarrassing to hide!”

“Mabel, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just not that interesting.”

“What’s not that interesting?” asked a gruff voice from the next room over. A few seconds later, its owner popped in carrying what looked to be groceries in his arm, mostly snacks, fruits and drinks.

“Grunkle Stan! We were just talking about Grunkle Ford’s love life.” She clasped her hands together and batted her lashes.

“What?” Stan raised his brows as he set down his paper bag on the table. “You told her about Bill?”

Ford got up from his chair fully with the intent to commit fratricide. 

“WHAT!” Mabel exploded. “GRUNKLE FORD?!” She glommed onto his leg and anchored him to the ground before he could give chase. Stan wisely moved over to the fridge to look for a few beers. “WHAAAAAT?!”

Ford tried to drag her along. “Mabel! Aren’t you getting a little old to be doing this?”

“No!” She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. “Now tell me everything! Everything! EVERYTHING!” She shook his leg with violence.

Stan popped a couple of bottle caps and extended one of the bottles towards his brother in gesture. “Sixer, if I come over there to give you this, you gotta promise not to try to wring my neck.”

“I can make no such promise, Stanley.”

“Okaaaay then.” Stan, ever the innovator, set the drink on the table instead and slid it over to Ford, who caught it before it could slide off the edge. He eyed it for a moment and then took a few long gulps.

“Mabel,” he sighed, glancing down to find that she was still staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “There’s not much to tell! He manipulated me and lied to me and then we blasted him out of Stan’s brain. The end.”

“No, no, no!” Mabel cried. “Tell me when you first realized you were falling in love with him!”

“F- Falling in—” Ford cleared his throat.

The truth was, he’d been “in love” with Bill, in a sense, from that very first moment. But that all made it sound so much more… romantic than it was. It was difficult to explain exactly what he had felt. It was intense, and it was an attraction, and at one point he might’ve thought it was love, but… “I… didn’t,” he finished lamely, as if he were just now realizing it himself.

“Come on, Grunkle Ford, the cat’s out of the bag now! You can’t lie to me anymore!”

“No, I… I really didn’t,” he went on, looking down at his empty hand. “We had a connection. A deep and intimate connection to one another. But I… I don’t think it was anything like what you’re imagining, Mabel.”

“Huh?” she blinked a few times. Even Stan seemed confused as he leaned back against the fridge.

“Hang on a second. Back on the boat you told me you were romantically involved. Those were your exact words.”

“Well, we… were?” Ford himself sounded perplexed, as though he were working out a Rubik’s Cube in real time. Of course, if this were a Rubik’s Cube he would’ve figured it out a lot faster. “At least, that’s what the understanding was at the time…”

“Uh… okay, you lost me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Mabel said thoughtfully, and the two grunkles turned to look at her. “You thought you were in love, so you got into a relationship, but you weren’t really in love. But you still loved him. Just not in a lovey-dovey way.”

“I, uh… Well, yes… I think so,” Ford affirmed.

“Yeah, I get it. I think I did that with this guy in freshman year. We really connected, you know! But I realized I wasn’t… in love…” she finished softly, as though she were now the one deep in thought. She snapped out of it with a shrug. “Womp womp.”

“Well, there you have it,” said Stan after taking a particularly long swig. “Hey, Sixer, now all you gotta do is tell Dipper and you’ll be three for three.”

“Stanley, don’t even joke about that. I’m absolutely done talking about this.”

“Awww,” said Mabel, who had really been looking forward to squealing to her twin about it. “Double womp womp.”

“Now will you please detach from my leg?”

“Nope! We’re bonding, baby! Learning each other’s backstories and stuff! Mabel-Ford bonding time!” She threw up her hands like she was on a roller coaster, although her legs stayed wrapped around his ankle. “Woohoo!”

[rabbitbandit05]

this has been a thought in my mind forever, but can we get a modern mizu x reader who is getting bullied or made fun of at college or whatever. rumors are spread about the reader at parties, and in general the reader is having a tough time dealing with all of the false rumors or like bullying, and mizu just FLIPS and puts matters into her own hands? :3 (if you dont write modern mizu, thats okay, i just thought this would be a fun idea getting to see a protective mizu)

Anon, thank you for this request! I genuinely had such fun doing it, and had so many ideas that I tried to capture as many as I could (so it might be a bit over the place- sorry 😬). And I in fact do write modern Mizu!

The dynamic I was going for was Nana and Hachi (from Nana- if you know them ily)- and just kinda rolled with it. I also tried to use Y/N instead of reader or ‘you’, and I think I prefer it, however am open to feedback.

Also, again, Requests are open!

Enjoy!!

Word count: 3229 words

Warnings: Bullying, rumors, drama, I’m not sure what else to warn about

“I heard that she’ll sleep with anyone who offers themselves to her”

“No, really? Well, I guess when you look like that, you get desperate for attention..”

No one besides Y/N was really sure how the rumors had started. It was as if over night, the quiet, sensitive Y/N that everyone knew was erased and replaced with a much more sinister outlook on her.

“She never struck me for the type, not with her non-existent social life-”

“I wouldn't be too sure. She doesn't associate with people on campus, but have you seen her at the parties recently? There has to be some merit to the rumors with the way she dresses.”

But Y/N could pinpoint the exact moment they had started. It started with Y/N and Mizu meeting.

Campus was huge, and completely new to Y/N, who was still trying to find her way around. Y/N was a transfer student completing her bachelors after transferring from a community college in her area. To make matters worse for the already social awkward Y/N, she came in during spring semester- the middle of the academic year. By then, new students and transfers from fall had already formed their social groups, and that left Y/N to once again, be outcasted.

However, Y/N had already made a promise to herself that she would find friends and go out more often. And so when she heard of a Valentines day party that one of the Sororities on campus was hosting for students in her year, she decided she would go. Worst case scenario would be that she left if the vibe wasn't for her.

And so the fateful evening came and Y/N found herself getting ready for the party. That was how she had met Mizu. Y/N could still remember the sight of her. She had walked into the small, cramped house that was blaring with music. She couldn't walk two steps without bumping into someone, and couldn't hear her own feet hit the floor. It was a change from her usual solitude and quietness, and becoming dizzy with all the movement and sound, Y/N made a beeline for the nearest door leading outside, which happened to be to the backyard. In the backyard, the music from inside was muffled to a tolerable noise level, and Y/N took a deep breath in and out. And then, as if by some magic, she looked up and there she was, with a red solo cup in one hand, her hair in a half up and half down style that perfectly framed her sharp features, and the bluest eyes that Y/N had ever seen. Mizu drew Y/N to her with just a single glance, and call it fate, but Y/N (for the first time in her life) had the courage to go and introduce herself to the loner who stood at the edge of some makeshift garden.

After some talking and discovering that despite Mizu being a year ahead of Y/N, they both were studying the same major. They quickly exchanged phone numbers, and when Y/N woke up the next morning, Mizu had texted her asking if she would like to grab lunch. After having lunch, time seemed to pass quickly. Summer came, and they spent it together at one of mizu’s friends family summer home (His name was Ringo, if Y/N remembered correctly). Just them and the beach. There were times when they would both dive in the water, with Mizu going underwater and staying there long enough that Y/N would panic and wonder if she drowned. Luckily, that never happened and Mizu would emerge just as Y/N would dunk her head underwater to check for her.

And the fall came, and the happy times just… ended. The leaves turned brown, the flowers started to wilt and die off and Mizu’s schedule was packed fall semester with classes that she needed to take.Aside from the occasional meet up, they mostly conversed through text. Still, Y/N looked on the bright side and smiled when she would receive a text from Mizu. That was always the best part of her day. When she would receive the text messages that asked things like “did you eat today?” “Have you done your homework or are you procrastinating again?” and the rare “I miss you” text, Y/N would giggle and kick her feet, as if it was her lover asking her these things and not her best friend. She was sure, if Mizu had asked her to follow her to the ends of the world, Y/N would have. Is this how having a first love felt?

—-

The rumors made their way through campus, particularly though Y/N’s class and her major. It had started after Y/N had received a text messages in the middle of one of her classes from Mizu, asking if she was out of class yet. Y/N quickly responded back that she had 5 more minutes but before she could send that text, she heard a voice whisper something.

“Who is so important for her to be texting in the middle of class?” Y/N ignored it, as the person who whispered it didn't need to know and she hit send.

At the end of class, before Y/N could stand up to leave, she was confronted with the girl who had whispered wondering why Y/N was texting, and a few of her friends.

“Its rude to text during a lecture. What could be so important that it couldn't wait?”

Another one pipped up “What do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“Who im dating is none of your concern.” Y/N should have just said sorry and left it at that, but after hanging out with Mizu, she had found a new confidence in herself.

“So you were texting your boyfriend?”

“Thats rude to make assumptions-” Y/N started but was quickly cut off before she could get another word in.

“Oh so it was a hookup then? Never took you for the type.”

“I wasn't-” Y/N was cut off again

“How pathetic- so desperate that you have to text in class.” And finally, after the last berate and Y/N refusing to say anything, they all left, leaving Y/N to breath out a shaky sigh and stand up on her shaking legs.

After that day, Y/N received texts from unknown numbers asking her to hook up. She ignored them, playing it off as a prank, but then rumors started to go around campus, and those were harder to ignore. Y/N wont like and say that it was easy to ignore them, but she had been bullied for almost all of middle school and throughout high school, so she had thicker skin. However, what she wasn't expecting was a text. A week after the initial spread of the rumors, Y/N received a ominous text from Mizu:

‘we need to meet up.’

Y/N stared at the text for a good 10 minutes, thinking of how to respond. Should she deny the rumors? What if the reason why Mizu wanted to meet up wasn't because of the rumors but was to catch up? That would be self-centered of Y/N to think that Mizu wanted to meet up because of the rumors. But then why else when they hadn't seen each other for weeks? It had to be about the rumors going around.

This couldn't be happening to her. The only good thing in Y/N’s life ws Mizu, she couldn't lose her too. So with shaking hands, she typed as quickly as she could.

Y/N🌸:

‘Ok, how about we meet at luna’s?’

Mizu 🌊:

‘Does tomorrow morning- 10am work for you?’

Y/N🌸:

‘Yeah! Sounds perfect.’

Y/N shut off her phone before she got the urge to write anything else. She flopped onto her bed, and buried her head into her pillow. She hoped that this meeting with Mizu would clear the air and wouldn't break their friendship apart.

——

Y/N had arrived 15 minutes early at where they were supposed to meet- a tiny coffee shop near campus that they would go to in the spring. She decided she would get in line and order both of their usuals. When both drinks came out, Y/N sat down at an empty table and waited. The wait was horrible, though she knows that she was the one who decided to arrive early, and really she would only need to wait a few more minutes. And at exactly 9:58am, Y/N looked up and saw her.

“Hey Mizu,” Y/N waved the blue-eyed girl down from where she sat. Mizu took notice of Y/N and made her way over to the table, a small smile on her face. She had her hair up in a bun and wore casual attire, which somehow she looked even better in.

“Hey Y/N- how have you been?” The question was definitely loaded and Y/N wasn't sure how to respond to it. Y/N could feel Mizu’s eyes scanning her face, waiting for some sort of reaction or sure sign. Y/N shrugged her shoulders casually.

“I've been…. Well.” She said hesitantly, and then looked up into Mizus eyes. Judging by Mizu’s glare, she did not buy that. “Actually, it’s been a bit… rough lately…”

“I bet… I’ve heard what’s been going on…” her voice was calm. There was no ill will or anger mixed in her voice.

“How??” Y/N asked as concern reached her voice. Bad scenes ran through Y/N’s head just imagining how Mizu reacted when she found out. It would be even worse if it was the mean girls and her friends who told Mizu directly.

“I overheard Taigen saying something about it…” she closed her eyes and sighed in frustration. Y/N looked down and started fidgeting her her own fingers. “Do you have anything you wanna say or add?”

“The rumors… the- they aren't true. I would never…” she stopped to compose herself before continuing “Whats being said isnt a reflection of my character. I would never do any of the things that anyone is saying.”

“It doesn't matter, thats your own personal business Y/N, and you don't have to defend yourself.” She reached her hands out to calm Y/N as she could see her friend getting worked up. Mizu had meant well with her words. She had meant to phrase it as if there was nothing wrong even if the rumors were true, but Y/N shook her head fiercely as if objecting to her statement.

“It does matter for me!” Mizu’s eyes widened at the sudden voice raise from Y/N. She had never seen Y/N so angry about anything, and it worried her. “ I care about how you think of me… and right now, all I've been hearing is how I'm some slut making her way through the campus…I don't want you to see me like that, because thats not me. I want you to know the real me.” she paused. She could feel the tears in the corner of her eyes and hated the way that no matter how many times she blinked, they wouldn't go away. She took a deep breath in before finally saying “And I just want to know one person actually believes me… I’m so tired of being told what I am and what I’m not…”

“I believe you.” Mizu firmly said after thinking for a minute.

“Y-you do?” Y/N asked, hesitant at Mizu’s answer.

“I do. Over the past few months that we’ve talked, I never took you for the type. And I like to think I'm able to read a person very well. Regardless of what anyone else says about you, I like you…” Her words rang in Y/Ns head. They were warm and truthful and honestly, it made majority of Y/N’s fears disappear. Still- Y/N stared at Mizu in shock, not sure how to respond. The way Mizu stared at her with a small smile of reassurance and the gentleness of the hand that was placed atop of hers made this feel like a more intimate moment than it originally was. Then a cough erupted from Mizu-

“I mean- I like hanging out with you and you are really cool…” she placed a hand behind her head, a little bit of an awkward pose, and Y/N giggled responding back

“I like you too.” With that, Mizu sighed out and felt reassured by the pat of Y/N's hand on the back of her own. She had never been good with affection…

“So.. Now I guess we should start talking about how to solve this situation…” Mizu prompts, and Y/N raises an eyebrow.

“Solve it? How do we do that?” Y/N asked. She had tried to ignore it and that hadn’t worked, and Y/N standing up for herself made her worry that she would be bullied and targeted even more.

“Well, there are many ways we can do that, however it all depends on who started this and why? Do you know anyone who isn't particularly keen towards you? Anyone who would want to damage you reputation?” Mizu started tapping her fingers on the table, and Y/N shrunk her shoulders in embarrassment.

And so Y/N explained it. She started from the beginning, of how she had received a text (she left out that it was mizu’s text that started this), and how some of the girls in her class had made it their priority to ruin her reputation within their field of work all because Y/N had tried to stand up for herself.

There is a quiet that hangs in the air as the tap of Mizu’s finger stops. That instills more fear in Y/N than anything that Mizu could have said to her, as the blue eyed woman just stares at her intently. And then, as if in slow motion, Y/N sees it register in Mizu’s eyes what to do, and she starts babbling, saying anything she can to talk Mizu out of whatever she had planned.

“I-its not that big of a deal Mizu, Im a big girl and can handle myself- Besides i've heard much worse sa-” But before Y/N can ramble anymore, Mizu lays a gentle hand over her mouth. Not hard enough to truly silence her, but close enough that Y/N gets the hint and stops mid-sentence.

“Shut it. Nothing you say or do will change my mind.” Yeah, Y/N knew that. Knew better than anyone that when Mizu is set in her ways, she bends others to her will to achieve her goals. And so, there was really nothing that Y/N could do to change her mind, but even then, that was a hard pill to swallow.

“So… what are you planning on doing now?” Y/N asked, after Mizu removed her hand.

“Hmm. You'll see.” She shrugged as she stood up, gathering not only her things, but Y/N’s as well, and throwing it over her shoulder.

“I don't like the way that sounds… Also- where are you taking my things???” Y/N stood as well and stared incredulously at Mizu’s back as she walked away.

“We are going to go get dinner- my treat.” Y/N couldn't argue with that, and if she did, there is no doubt Mizu would walk away with her belongings and leave her without a computer or her textbook, so Y/N followed. She couldn't stay mad though, dinner was good and it tasted better knowing Mizu believed her and still wanted to see her.

—------

The next day, Y/N attended class, with her head down low, and trying to be as noticeable as possible, though that proved harder than she thought. Throughout the class she could hear students whispering about her. She couldn't make out exactly what they were saying but she knew what they were talking about. As the class wrapped up and the first student left, a familiar figure walked through the door and made a straight line towards Y/N.

“Mizu?” The shock of seeing the woman here had Y/N speechless “How did you know that I have this class today? And that I get out at this time?” Y/N asked Mizu, as Mizu picked up her bag for her. This was becoming a regular occurrence and Y/N wasn't sure weather she liked it or made her worry for Mizu’s back (especially with all the books she carries).

“That one day we were texting and you said you got out in 5 minutes? I made it a point to remember your schedule after that day.” Y/N blushed, and just gave a small ‘thank you’. Before either of them could get away though, they were both stopped.

“Hold it right there-” Mizu turned around, murder on her face, and Y/N shivered. She had to make a mental note to never get on Mizu’s bad side. And as she turned to look at who had stopped them, the fear she had of Mizu vanished and a cold ran through her.

It was her… the one who had started the rumors about Y/N and put her in this place in the first place. She felt so many emotions, mainly ranging from anger to sadness. Mizu on the other hand, just saw red.

“So what? Are you dating now too? I didn't know that Y/N slept around with both guys and girls-” Her high pitch voice rang in Y/N’s ears, and she felt her ears go red at the question and just the thought of it. However, Mizu’s face showed no indicator that the question had affected her at all. In fact, she gave a sly grin, and before Y/N could answer the question for the both of them, Mizu responded.

“Sure we are. Actually- Im the boyfriend that is being referred to…” The girl widened her eyes, as if not believing what she was hearing. Actually, Y/N was quite sure that a majority of the class who had not left were now focusing on their conversation after hearing Mizu publicly announce her affiliation with Y/N. Not only her affiliation- BUT THAT THEY WERE DATING?! “Not that that should matter to anyone else, especially not garbage like you.” A few gasps emerged from the students. No one dared to defend the girl against Mizu. And in a swift fashion, Mizu reached an arm around Y/N’s waist and brought her closer. “And I can assure you, that whatever rumors are flying around are false-”

Before anyone could argue against Mizu, Mizu was practically dragging Y/N away.

‘M-mizu?!” Y/N whispered as they both walked away, Mizu’s hand pressed on her back feeling heavier and more prominent than it probably was. This would surely gain the attention of not only the students in her class but now the upper class, now that Mizu was involved.

The only response that Y/N received was a barely an explanation: “If they want something to talk about, we’ll both give them something to talk about.”

————-

Hello reader, this was honestly a hot mess- and definetly not grammatically correct. Still, hope I got the general idea of this across!

[pankowcrumbs]

Little Sister X Drew Starkey (requested)

The air was electric with the buzz of activity on set. I wasn’t used to it—the endless movement, the energy—but I couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated. My brother, Rudy, had begged me to come visit while he was filming his new show, and after weeks of saying no, I finally gave in.

Standing just out of the camera’s view, I watched the cast and crew work together seamlessly. It was fascinating to see everyone in their element, the actors snapping in and out of character like flipping a switch. That’s when I first noticed him—Drew Starkey.

He was standing a few feet away, chatting with someone near the lighting rig. His laugh was easy, genuine, and it carried just enough to catch my attention. I didn’t want to seem like I was staring, so I quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

To my surprise, it wasn’t long before he wandered over, probably assuming I was part of the crew. “Hey,” he greeted, a warm smile on his face. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Drew.”

“Hi,” I said, slightly caught off guard. “I’m Y/N.”

His smile didn’t falter, and I couldn’t help but notice how genuine it seemed. He was taller than I’d expected, his presence easygoing but commanding at the same time.

“First day on set?” he asked, gesturing to the chaos around us.

“Something like that,” I replied with a small laugh. “I’m just here visiting.”

“Oh, nice. You’ve picked an interesting day. This scene’s been giving us trouble all morning.” He ran a hand through his hair, motioning toward the actors and crew scrambling to reset the shot.

“Looks intense,” I said, glancing back at the scene. “You guys make it look effortless, though.”

He chuckled. “That’s generous of you. Trust me, it’s far from effortless. But I guess that’s the magic of television.”

Before I could say anything else, someone called his name. He gave me a quick smile. “Duty calls. Nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too,” I replied, watching him walk back onto the set.

It was a brief conversation, but it left me curious. There was something about him—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Over the next few days, I couldn’t seem to avoid him—not that I minded. Drew had a way of appearing out of nowhere, always with a quick comment or a friendly smile.

One afternoon, I was sitting near the catering table, debating whether I wanted another cup of coffee. Drew appeared seemingly out of thin air, a coffee cup in hand.

“Careful with that stuff,” he said, nodding toward the coffee pot. “It’s stronger than it looks.”

I laughed. “Noted. But I think I need it if I’m going to survive another day of watching Rudy in his natural habitat.”

“Rudy?” Drew tilted his head, intrigued.

I froze for a moment, realizing I might have said too much. “Uh, yeah. Rudy. He’s kind of the reason I’m here.”

Drew didn’t press further, and I was grateful. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you’ll get used to the chaos. And the bad coffee.”

“Good to know,” I said with a grin.

The following day, I was wandering near the trailers when I almost collided with him.

“Whoa,” Drew said, steadying me with a hand on my arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

“No harm done,” he said, letting his hand fall away. “But you might want to watch where you’re going. Some of these guys don’t stop for anything.”

I laughed, feeling more at ease. “Noted.”

“Good.” He glanced down at his phone. “Anyway, I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you,” I replied, watching him walk away.

By the time the cast and crew dinner rolled around, I felt like I’d fallen into a rhythm with the set. I hadn’t seen Drew that day, but I figured he’d be at the dinner.

Rudy and I arrived together, and the restaurant was already buzzing with conversation. People waved us over to a large table, and as we approached, I spotted Drew sitting toward the middle.

“Y/N, over here!” someone called, and I turned to see Madison waving me over.

“Go ahead,” Rudy said. “I’ll catch up with you in a sec.”

I made my way toward Madison, but before I could sit down, Drew’s eyes landed on me. He looked pleasantly surprised.

“Y/N,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Before I could respond, Rudy appeared behind me. “Hey, Starkey,” he said, clapping a hand on Drew’s shoulder.

Drew turned, grinning. “Pankow. What’s up, man?”

“Not much,” Rudy replied. Then, motioning to me, he added, “By the way, have you met my sister?”

For a moment, Drew looked completely stunned. “Wait—what?” He looked between us, clearly trying to piece it together.

Rudy laughed. “Yeah, Y/N’s my sister. She’s been hanging around set this week.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Drew said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Didn’t think I needed to,” Rudy replied, shrugging.

I couldn’t help but laugh at Drew’s reaction. “Surprise,” I said, giving him a playful smile.

Drew shook his head, a smile creeping back onto his face. “You’ve been holding out on me, Pankow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rudy said. “Just don’t get any ideas.”

Drew raised his hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the night went on, the conversation flowed easily, and I found myself sitting near Drew at the table. Despite Rudy’s teasing warnings, Drew was just as friendly as ever, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the easy banter we shared.

Maybe it was the laughter, the shared glances, or the fact that I finally felt like I belonged here.

The dinner was lively, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. People moved about, swapping seats and chatting with everyone at the long table. I ended up across from Drew, much to Rudy's chagrin, though he seemed to let it go when Carlacia pulled him into a spirited debate about pineapple on pizza.

“So,” Drew began, leaning slightly toward me. “You’ve been here all week, huh? How’d I miss the sibling connection?”

I shrugged, smiling. “I guess I wanted to keep a low profile. Rudy didn’t exactly announce it to the world.”

He smirked. “Low profile? You’ve managed to show up everywhere I’ve been. Feels like fate.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” I teased, resting my chin on my hand. “I think it’s more likely that you just have a radar for coffee and near collisions.”

Drew laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Guilty as charged. But seriously, it’s cool that you came to support Rudy. He talks about you a lot, you know.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, does he? What kind of things is he saying?”

“Nothing too embarrassing,” Drew assured me. “Just that you’re the smart one in the family, the voice of reason. Though, judging by the look on your face, I’m guessing you don’t fully agree.”

I laughed softly. “Let’s just say Rudy and I have very different definitions of reason.”

Drew chuckled, nodding. “Fair enough. Siblings are like that, huh?”

We kept talking, the conversation flowing effortlessly. He told me stories about growing up in North Carolina, about the odd jobs he’d worked before acting, and about how surreal it was to be part of a show like Outer Banks.

“It’s wild,” he said, gesturing around the table. “Being here with everyone, knowing that what we’re making might actually mean something to people. It’s a lot to take in.”

“You seem like you’re handling it well,” I said, meaning it.

He smiled, a little softer this time. “Thanks. It helps having a good group of people around. And apparently, surprise siblings showing up to keep things interesting.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Glad I could add some spice to your week.”

Later in the evening, as the group settled into a more relaxed vibe, Drew slid into the seat next to me.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, though he was already halfway down.

“Not at all,” I said, scooting over slightly to make room.

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the hum of conversation around us. Drew leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting across the room before landing on me.

“So, what’s your deal, Y/N?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

“My deal?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. What do you do when you’re not hanging out on chaotic TV sets?”

“Well,” I began, pretending to think. “I’m a professional sibling, a coffee enthusiast, and an amateur avoider of small talk.”

Drew laughed, shaking his head. “You’re good at this, you know.”

“At what?”

“Deflecting,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I tilted my head, considering him for a moment. “Fine. I’m studying art history, and I work part-time at a museum. It’s not as glamorous as what you guys do, but it’s my thing.”

“That’s awesome,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. “I bet Rudy’s proud of you.”

I smiled, the warmth in his voice catching me off guard. “Thanks. And what about you? Is this show your thing?”

“For now,” he said with a shrug. “But who knows? I’m just trying to enjoy it while it lasts.”

Before I could reply, Rudy appeared behind Drew, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on here?” he asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Drew said smoothly, a teasing edge in his voice.

Rudy groaned. “Seriously, Y/N, don’t let this guy charm you. He’s trouble.”

“Relax, Rudy,” I said, grinning. “I think I can handle myself.”

Rudy shook his head, muttering something about protective instincts, but he eventually wandered off, leaving Drew and me to share a quiet laugh.

As the night wound down, Drew walked me out to the parking lot. The cool night air was a refreshing change from the warm, crowded restaurant.

“Thanks for letting me crash your dinner,” I said, hugging my arms against the breeze.

“Crash? You were the highlight,” Drew said, his voice teasing but sincere.

I smiled, unsure of what to say. The week had been a whirlwind, and meeting Drew had been an unexpected, but welcome, surprise.

“So, are you sticking around?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“For a bit,” I said. “Rudy wants me to stay through the weekend.”

“Good,” he said, his smile widening. “It’d be a shame if you left before I got the chance to bump into you a few more times.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “But it seems to be working.”

With that, we said our goodbyes, and I couldn’t help but feel like the week had taken a turn for the better.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. 

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List:  @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person. 

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting. 

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.” 

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart. 

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head. 

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe. 

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland. 

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees. 

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?” 

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet. 

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed. 

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion. 

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against. 

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down. 

How long has it been? 

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out? 

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over. 

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over. 

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have. 

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters? 

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets. 

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously.  At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went. 

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more). 

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there. 

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying. 

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it. 

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him. 

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude. 

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it. 

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right? 

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char. 

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone. 

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile. 

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.” 

Karl. 

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar. 

Sugar. 

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you. 

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty. 

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?” 

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly. 

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned. 

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure. 

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.” 

Were you blushing?! Dammit! 

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn. 

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you. 

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway. 

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling. 

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table. 

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm. 

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance. 

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you. 

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

[blueberry-cheese-pizza]

The Double 墨雨云间 book scene- ML's first step into the 'play'

This scene is too long, so I can't post the Chinese version for this part even though it's written beautifully. The setting: Jiang Li and her uncle face unexpected danger in the woods behind Tong Xiang after rescuing her father's (Xue Huai Yuan) loyal staff from the mines. Ambushed by two groups of assassins, one sent by Princess Yong Ning and the other by Jiang Li's stepmother, Madam Ji, they become separated. Jiang Li finds herself confronting Madam Ji's deadly assassins alone in the dark forest. Guess who appears?

“Second Miss, there’s no need to look around for another way out,” the leader said with a peculiar malevolence. “Madam ordered us to use every method to torture you before killing you. But you’re so pure and lovely, wise and brave, we wouldn’t want to use any terrible methods on you. How about something more... comfortable?”

The surrounding men laughed sickeningly in agreement. Jiang Li didn’t need to guess what despicable ideas were running through their minds.

For an instant, she felt as if she were back in the Shen family’s courtyard, the same feelings of humiliation and rage that had consumed her in those months of near-death. These men were dredging up her most vile memories.

Her eyes darkened, and she sneered, “Do you think you’ve already won? Do you really believe I have no other way out?”

The leader laughed again. “I know you’re trying to buy time, but Master Ye is already injured, held up by Feng Yutang’s men. And your horse moved too quickly for him to follow. He doesn’t know this forest, and he won’t find you. Right now, it’s just us and you.”

His arrogance was blatant. Jiang Li had led three assassins into the swamp because she knew the terrain, but even if Ye Mingyu escaped the assassins, he wouldn’t know where to find her—Tong Xiang was entirely unfamiliar to him.

But Jiang Li merely smiled, “Who said I was waiting for Master Ye?”

The man was stunned.

Her voice, clear and laced with amusement, echoed through the forest.

"Lord Duke, after watching the performance for so long, how about coming out to meet us?"

Her clear voice echoed through the forest at night. The moon hung low, almost reclining on the treetops, illuminating Jiang Li's delicate face. Her eyes were bright and clear, devoid of the panic one might expect in a dire situation. Instead, she appeared relaxed and clear-minded, as if she had everything under control.

The men in black observed her, and their leader chuckled, "Second Miss, why the pretense..." Before he could finish his sentence, a soft laugh emerged from the depths of the forest.

A crimson figure gradually stepped out of the darkness. Under the moonlight, the darker it got, the more magnificent his red attire appeared.

The moonlight shone on the black-gold butterflies embroidered on the hem of his robe, making them seem ready to take flight, their beauty almost sinister in its extreme. Ji Heng walked out of the night at an unhurried pace, holding a gold-threaded folding fan, a smile playing on his lips. "Nothing escapes you, does it?"

Ji Heng’s appearance immediately drew the attention of the assassins hired by Ji Shuran. Several of them pointed their swords at Ji Heng. Jiang Li’s earlier call of “Lord Duke” had not escaped the assassins’ notice.

Ji Heng's appearance was overwhelmingly striking, almost unnaturally so. His sudden presence in the dark dense forest made him seem like a bewitching forest spirit, exuding a dangerous allure. Perhaps it was their assassin's intuition about danger that made the leader in black ask Ji Heng, “Who might Your Excellency be?”

Ji Heng, however, didn't acknowledge them. Smiling, he looked at Jiang Li and said, “Second Miss, your acting skills have become more impressive.”

“If the show isn't captivating, how could it attract your attention?” Jiang Li glanced at the leader in black, her smile widening. “My lord, they are pointing their swords at you.”

Ji Heng was the kind of person who wore a perpetual smile, yet beneath that facade lay a ruthless and cold-hearted nature. His arrogance made the act of pointing a sword at him an outright insult. The leader of the black-clad men caught a glimpse of Ji Heng's gaze and felt an inexplicable urge to step back. His fingers involuntarily tightened around his sword, sensing that something was terribly amiss. Ji Heng paid them no mind, continuing to smile at Jiang Li.

"Second Miss, why attempt to divert trouble towards me? I have told you, I am not a part of the play."

"After watching so many of my performances, would you simply let this one go? If I were to die here today, would you not regret never seeing another of my plays?" she asked, looking up at him.

Her face was fair, her eyes bright and lively, filled with endless appeal. When she spoke in a soft, pitiful tone, even a deity might be moved.

However, Ji Heng was no deity; he was a demon crueler, more callous than any deity. He merely watched Jiang Li with an amused expression and said, "It’s a pity, but I will not be a part of the play."

The look of pleading in Jiang Li's eyes vanished instantly. It was hard to believe that the captivating demeanor she had displayed could be withdrawn so quickly.

Jiang Li felt a twinge of annoyance. In her past life as Xue Fangfei, she had a face that could launch a thousand ships. While she didn't think much of it, her beautiful appearance often smoothed her way through conflicts. People would often relent upon seeing her face, not pursuing matters further. A beauty only needed to pout a little, and everything would fall into place. Though she disliked using such tactics, Xue Zhao often chided her for wasting her looks, saying she could have easily gained a reputation as a femme fatale.

Now, she found herself forced to play the part of the pitiable and lovable, but it seemed that her charms were lost on Ji Heng. His response was as clear and unaffected as ever, leaving her deflated. Ji Heng continued to smile at her, speaking lightly as if he saw nothing wrong in his decision to let her fend for herself. His long, narrow phoenix eyes, beneath which a crimson mole added even an air of seduction, glimmered invitingly in the night.

The leader of the assassins seemed to come to his senses at this moment. He addressed Ji Heng first, "Since Your Excellency has no conflict with us, this will be simple."

He then turned to Jiang Li, saying, "Second Miss, it seems your reinforcements aren’t planning to help you. Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?" With that, perhaps fearing Ji Heng’s presence might lead to unforeseen complications, he lunged at Jiang Li.

The silver tip of his sword gleamed with deadly intent, stirring the leaves into a flurry as they fell.

Seeing that the situation was beyond repair and her supposed ally remained detached, Jiang Li gathered her resolve and shouted, "Lord Duke, I know why you are associating with the Prime Minister and Prince Cheng! The court is divided into three factions. Though the Emperor may appear weak, but he is no fool. To gain his sole trust, you must support Prince Cheng. With threats on all sides, the Emperor will rely on you heavily. This entire tripartite standoff is your creation!"

Jiang Li's rapid and urgent words left the black-clad assassins dumbfounded. What Prince Cheng? What Prime Minister? What was she talking about?

The smile on Ji Heng's lips froze.

end of part 1~

part 2

[kaoharu]

hello friends welcome to my milgram outfit observations 👍 im your host yves and im a totally seasoned clothing analyzer

anyways onto the observations themselves warning for incoming long post cause im a rambler o7

tagging @urrvw & @monopoisonous ^–^ !!! hi guys

alrighty now then as you can see in the newest milgram art, all the male prisoners seem to be wearing the Exact Same suit at first glance however there are some stark but also miniscule differences in both the type of suit and style of the outfits as a whole on each of them ( at least to me anyways )

some of the more noticeable parts of the suits that are different for each would be the pockets , buttons , and vents while some smaller things wld be the lapels , shoulders , seams , and collar type + tie as well as shoes

( i drew up a helpful graphic for the suit jacket parts for your convenience using fuuta as an example since we can see the most of his suit 👍👍 )

— MIKOTO

so based off the details we can see of mikotos jacket, he is Most Likely wearing some variation of a two / three buttoned single breasted notched or closing front lapel sports jacket or blazer with flap pockets. he also has front darts ( front seams ) going up the whole front of his jacket, as opposed to the side seams i highlighted on fuuta's jacket

his jacket also appeared to be a fitted silhouette as the shoulders are sligjtly defines and lifts slightly up, unlike a structures or sack jacket. as for his shirt, he seems to be wearing some type of cutaway collared shirt with a four in hand knot tie ( its very hard to tell to be honest im guessing on the general size of the knot ) his collar is neatly done and more reminiscent to how an office worker might wear theirs

finally we have his shoes, seemingly very similar to harukas, but i believe they are plain toe derby loafers since the shape is more rounded than it is sharp like a wingtip

— KAZUI

next we have kazui who im guessing is wearing two button single notched lapel suit with jetted pockets. the jacket is prob a fitted silouhette as it goes across the shoulders in a relatively straight line but kinda ? showing off his shoulders in a way. i believe he has side seams as well if you look closely to his shoulder not being covered by the bouquet 👍

his shirt seems to be a (semi)spread collared shirt with a (?) half windsor knot <- once again its hard to tell really 🤷‍♀️ then unlike all the other dudes, kazui actually has a suitvest underneath his jacket this is usually only done for formal events such as weddings, galas, or high profile business meetings . . . his collar is neat and closed tho not as much as shidous

then we have his shoes, which i think are cap toe derby loafers, his shoes are very similar to shidou, like how mikoto and haruka had similar ones, but the overall shape of kazui's shoe suggest a more casual derby rather than an oxford

— SHIDOU

shidou has a six buttoned double breasted notched lapel blazer jacket with jetted pockets. the jacket seems to be a structured sihoulette since the shoulders go pretty much straight across rather than dipping at all. he also appears to have front darts starting from his breast pocket, tho it doesnt span the whole front like mikoto

his shirt wld appear to be either a classic or spread collared shirt and an oriental tie / simple knot 👍 this a knot that is often done by wives for their husbands iirc . hrm !! his collar is completely closed as well

and like i mentioned in kazuis section, i believe shidou has cap toe oxford. these are often seen and worn in mainly formal settings

— FUUTA

fuuta has a two buttoned single breasted notched lapel blazer jacket with flap pockets. it would also appear that it has a fitted silhouette, and as pointed out in the graphic i drew he has side seams running from around the underarms to the bottom of the jacket

his shirt underneath is most likely a full cutaway w a four in hand knot ? its tied rather loosely compared to the other tho as uu can see his collar is more open than kazuis

fuuta is so silly cause he has pennyloafers ( i love these shoes btw theyre basically slip ons and once broken in theyre very comfy in my experience 👍 anyways tho ) these are often worn in business casual setting

— HARUKA

haruka has a three buttoned single breasted notched lapel sports jacket with flap pockets, tho he has a noticeable lack of seams that are used to fit the jacket on a perskn better. this makes the jacket look slightly ill fitted to him but it cld also be intentional as the shoulders imply that its a sack silhouette type

as for his collar, it looks most similar to a classic one w a kelvin knot, done a bit looser than normal but still tighter than fuutas tie

finally, im pretty sure haruka has wingtip derby loafers, as mentioned in fuutas section, as overall design of the shoe is similar to fuuta but the tipe is slightly more pointed looking

aaaaand thats pretty much it ❓️ i dont have any connections to make so yepp . . . sorry these got shorter and shorter LOL

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 10

Came Back Different

I wasn't really sure what to do for today so I decided to try something new for it aka no Skwistok today

This entry features Murderface and…someone he would really like to see again, especially after the events of Army of the Doomstar.

“With our cutting-edge technology we actually managed to reconstitute his body, well, what was left of it. We did have to replace several parts with metal because the skin was completely unsalvageable. Some organs have been artificially replicated too to allow him to subsist as…” The surgeon seemed reluctant to say the word. “Human being.”

“How could you hide this from us?!” Nathan looked at Charles in complete disbelief. 

“There was, uh, a lot going.” Charles said, straightening up his clothes. He was no longer wearing that monk robe, instead returning to his old suit and his old job too. “As you can imagine, I didn’t really have the time to inform you guys.”

“Still!” Nathan complained.

“We tha’t he was dead!” Pickles added.

“He explodeds right in our faces!” Toki said, before replicating the explosion noise. “We saws it!”

“I, uh…didn’t sees anythingks because I was unskconstcious.” Skwisgaar scratched the side of his neck. “But they tolds me he was dieds.”

“Dood, it was pretty horrible-”

“I hads you in my arms, Skwisgaar.” 

“You don’ts has to says it like dat.”

“Skwisgaar, you were seriously just out.”

“I fucking knows!”

“It’s nuthin’ ta be embarrassed about!”

“Ams not-”

“Isch it true?” Murderface raised his voice to be heard amongst the ruckus. They all turned to him and then back to the surgeon.

“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Like I said, we essentially patched him back together so we’re unclear about the side effects so far. But he’s alive, yes.”

“Can we schee him?” Murderface asked, for once not making an inappropriate comment or cracking a rude joke. His left fist was clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed together though not out of anger. 

It was guilt.

The surgeon  and Charles exchanged glances and the surgeon gestured at his assistant, who quickly left through the door.

The guys stared at each other in disbelief, chattering between each other. Toki kept insisting on telling Skwisgaar the heroic details of when he carried him on his back for God knows how long. Pickles threw in random guesses of how their friend would look like now and Nathan listened attentively. Murderface didn’t participate, just stood there, thinking and feeling his palms get sweaty. Fuck. Fuck, was it true? Was it really true?

Less than a minute later, the assistant came back, his hand on the doorknob as if to keep it from opening preemptively. 

“Alright.” The surgeon looked at Dethklok. “Just remember, guys, he might be a little different. So be patient. Also-”

“Just shut up and let us see him!” Nathan demanded.

“Just do as they say.” Charles said, shaking his head with resignation.

The assistant opened the door and in came…

Dick Knubbler, looking pretty much the same as when they last saw him. Well, his legs appeared to be exclusively made of metal now, as well as his neck. His eyes had now been updated with some sort of futuristic-like visor. “Long time no see, babes!” He greeted them, and there was a metallic texture to his voice, too.

They all stared at him astounded for a good 10 seconds until…

“Holy shit!” Nathan went first. “It’s fucking real! You’re alive!”

“It takes more than a bomb to kill me, babe.” Knubbler smirked, striking a pose.

Murderface walked up to him, unable to contain himself. “Knubbler, I…I’m schorry.” He said with heaviness in his voice. “I did thisch to you…I’m schorry.”

Nathan frowned. “Murderface-”

“Oh, Willy!” Knubbler wrapped his arms around Murderface’s neck. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m better than ever, babe!” His face drew close to Murderface’s, smiling.

“Woah…” Nathan stepped back in surprise.

“Dood…”

“Dat’s…” Skwisgaar started.

“...Gays.” Toki finished.

“Oh, yeah!” Knubbler glanced at the others without letting go of Murderface. “I’m feeling totally gay, babes! While they were putting me together, I had a lot of time to think, you know? And I thought, life is pretty short to not be gay!”  His ‘eye’ winked at Murderface. “How about it, babe?”

Murderface’s cheeks turned red. “G-G-G-Get the fuck off me!” He said, trying to shove Knubbler. “I’m not gay!”

“Now, Willy,” Knubbler shook his finger. “We both know that is not true, don’t we?” He said, hugging Murderface by the waist.

“Huh…” Nathan, raised his eyebrows while the other three just watched agape.

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” Murderface weakly tried to resist the affection, with a nervous chuckle. “He’sch totally out of hisch mind!” He whispered to his bandmates.

“Right.” Charles adjusted his tie, visibly uncomfortable. “Let’s give Murderface and Knubbler some, uh, some privacy.”

There were mumbles of agreement and the boys followed Charles to the door. 

“What?!” Murderface yelled, while the assistant took notes on Knubbler’s behavior. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Don’t leave me alone with thisch fucking lunatic!”

Nathan was in the doorframe when he turned his head. “You’re fucking gay, Murderface. Just get over it.” 

“Yeah.” Three voices said in unison.

“Oh, fuck you, guysch!” Murderface yelled when the door closed. “You’re the gay onesch!”

“Come on, Willy, just give me a kiss.” Knubbler insisted, puckering his lips. 

“God damn it!” Murderface moved his face, flustered. “Schtop being gay, Knubbler!”

“After you kiss me, babe.”

“No!”

[silverofthunder]

☆ tattoo in my mind ☆

Secondo x Copia

1,266 words || tattoo!AU, fluff (in a way), a bit of teasing, flirty Secondo, SFW

i was really pissed off yesterday and wanted to write something controversial, so here we go… obviously, this is an AU and should be treated as such. mistakes are possible as i wrote this so fast.

if this isn’t your jam, don’t read this

this is my way of showing support to those who have been getting some criticism about the things they like (and write about). you do you, you're allowed to enjoy things however you want ♡

Copia felt the nervous sweat on his skin as he finally sat down on the chair, ready to get his first tattoo. The tattoo artist was speaking to him but half of the words seemed to blend into a incoherent mumble as Copia focused his gaze anywhere else but the equipments. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, squeezing his shirt in his fists.

”You ready?”

Copia glanced at the tattoo artist – a lovely woman, who smiled at him kindly – and nodded.

”Yeah.”

He drew in a deep breath, releasing the air slowly and the woman got to work, placing the tattoo machine on his chest. Copia tensed slightly, waiting for the pain but relaxed soon as it wasn’t as bad as he had thought.

The bell rang after a while and Copia’s eyes went to the door, seeing as an bald, older man stepped in. He was wearing only a white tank top and black trousers, and tattoos covered both of his arms, traveling all up to his neck. Copia swallowed as the man’s gaze briefly stopped to him – he looked a bit grumpy and the odd contact lense in his other eye only highlighted it.

”Nice to see you again, Secondo.” Another tattoo artist came from the back room, greeting the man. Copia watched as the man just nodded, walking straight to the chair on the opposite of Copia as the tattoo artist followed him. Copia’s eyes were glued to the man – he had obviously spent several hours under the needle as he was basically now a canvas filled with ink.

The man’s gaze found Copia’s again, the expression on his face staying grumpy as his eyes traveled to Copia’s bare chest. Copia swallowed again, now tearing his gaze away, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks.

Oh fuck. Of course something like this would happen to him even in a tattoo shop. Every time some hot guy would even look at him, he would turn into a blushing mess. A string of curses run through his head as he fiddled with his shirt and then he heard a low, quiet chuckle coming from where the man was.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

”First time is always the hardest.”

Copia’s gaze moved back to the man – he was still looking at him but this time he had the tiniest of smirks on his lips and Copia could feel his blush deepen as he mumbled something that probably wasn’t even a word. The man looked amused and Copia had a hard time staying still but somehow he managed to do so. It wouldn’t be nice if his tattoo ended up being messed up.

”Be careful, soon you might end up getting covered in tattoos.”

Copia blinked, his brain completely short circuiting for a moment. And then he heard that low chuckle again and the sound of it seemed to reach deep and Copia felt like he could melt on the spot.

Fuck.

”Secondo, please, don’t tease my customer,” Copia’s tattoo artist said. However, there wasn’t real annoyance in her voice.

Secondo just gave a slight shake of head, a small smirk still on his lips.

”I was just stating what might happen.”

”I don’t think I will take that many tattoos,” Copia stated, not really knowing how he managed to get anything sensible out.

Secondo’s brow quirked up.

”But you’re planning taking more?”

”Yeah, I guess,” Copia answered.

Secondo then made a face and Copia moved his gaze for the first time from the man’s face to his hand that was getting tattoeed. Or more specifically, his fingers. That must have hurt. But it wasn’t like the man had much other choices to take a tattoo on his upper body. And Copia couldn’t really see that he would tattoo his bald head first, though the man probably would pull that off, too.

Copia dared to take a look at his tattoo, the black ink now adorning his chest. It wasn’t anything big or complicated and it seemed that soon it would be finished for which he was glad of. He really could use some fresh air and technically he could have asked for a break but he didn’t dare as he didn’t want to make himself seem silly.

Luckily for him, the time went fast and Copia was ready to pay and leave. He could feel Secondo’s gaze on him as he walked to the counter. After paying he got a instructions of how to take care of the tattoo until it was healed and after the last thank yous and good day wishes he headed to the door and stepped out of the shop.

He didn’t get very far when he heard a familiar voice and stopped right in his tracks, turning slowly around. Secondo was standing close to the door of the shop and Copia raised his brows as he walked to him.

”Yes?”

Secondo shifted, clearing his throat, then moving his hand behind his neck and for a moment he looked like he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Copia offered him a small smile, trying his best at ignoring the way his heart made little jumps in his chest as he waited for Secondo to speak.

”Uh, I’m not good at this shit…” the man started, shifting nervously. ”Would you want to… go out with me?”

Secondo lowered his gaze and Copia blinked as the words slowly sunk in, though he still needed to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn’t just dreaming or something. No, he was wide awake and this was real. And the hot guy had just asked him out. Copia felt the way too familiar burn on his cheeks and let out a tiny, nervous laugh.

”Yes,” Copia answered, and Secondo let out a sigh, the tension leaving his body as his gaze met Copia’s again.

”Great,” Secondo stated and dropped his hand from his neck and put it into his pocket, taking then his phone out. ”Give me your number.”

Copia had to take a moment to think what his number was as the whole situation was really messing with his rational thinking – which was nothing new of course. As he eventually remembered the number, he said it slowly to Secondo.

”Uh, I don’t think I caught your name.”

”Oh, it’s Copia.”

”Copia,” Secondo repeated and Copia nodded, watching as the man typed it down and then saved his number. After that Secondo put his phone back into his pocket and awkwardly motioned towards the door of the tattoo shop.

”I have to go back but I guess we’ll see soon.”

”Yeah,” Copia stated, trying his best to smile. Secondo flashed him a crooked smile and nodded and then opened the door, going back into the tattoo shop. Copia stared at the door in awe for a while before shaking his head and turning on his heels. While he started walking away, a smile rose to his lips and his heart was fluttering in his chest, the excitement bubbling at the bottom of his stomach.

It was still kind of hard to realize what had happened but Copia certainly had no complains. Though there still was that little thought in the back of his mind, reminding him that asking out and actually having the date was a different thing.

Secondo might even not show up when they eventually would be supposed to meet but Copia didn’t want to worry about it now. This little moment of enthusiasm he now felt would surely keep him going for a few days and it was all that mattered.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 23 - Jump

Ok, I lied. I accidentally finished another chapter.

Have been looking forward to this one for a while 😁

What went before

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He spotted the gap in the hedge and pulled into the small car park, stopping the car a little way away from a huddle of harnessed and helmeted people gathered at the back of a van. He’d assumed from the limited message he’d received Estera was attending some kind of social event, but this looked a lot more like an Activity of some kind… given the proximity of the sheer cliffs this part of the coastline was famous for, perhaps abseiling?

Quite chunky harnesses for abseiling though.

He couldn’t quite spot her among the group and hoped he hadn’t come to the wrong place. Pulling at the sweater to make sure it was definitely hiding the waistcoat, he left his warm but completely inappropriate tailored wool coat in the car and walked as casually as he could towards the van. One helmeted head snapped around as he crunched across the gravel and he felt a rush of relief which partly but not entirely overcame his uncharacteristic self-consciousness. She gave a tiny wave and mouthed “two minutes” before turning back to focus on the person giving instructions. Scott paused where he was and watched as the briefing seemed to finish and the group sprang into action to unload a series of tightly wrapped silk bundles from the van.

His jaw dropped. He knew what those were. Estera turned back and caught his eye and he pointed to the edge of the clifftop and raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. She nodded and grinned slightly maniacally. Then beckoned him over.

He drew alongside and murmured “I thought you weren’t a fan of heights?”

“Just airplanes” she whispered back. “This way you get the rush without needing to get into one. Just, err, don’t mention it to the school kids.”

He chuckled. “Not going to lie, I’m quite envious.”

“Don’t you do this kind of thing all the time? Given your day job?”

“Not for fun. It’s hard to enjoy the moment when someone’s trapped or injured or something and they are waiting for you.”

She looked thoughtful. “Give me a minute.”

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“We have a rig spare though don’t we? Robin hasn’t turned up.”

“That doesn’t mean we can just let a randomer jump, Tez, you know that. He’s not done the training.”

“He’s done this kind of thing a lot, though, for his job.” She looked round to see Scott happily chatting to a couple of people and suddenly realised that maybe he wouldn’t appreciate losing his anonymity right now. So she fudged it. “He’s in… outdoor pursuits” she invented rapidly “really extreme stuff. In, uh, Australia.”

“Unless he can show me a qualification… the insurance company would string me up if something happened.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

She knew the disappointment was showing on her face and the wheedling was beneath her. She wouldn’t usually push, but… she glanced back over at Scott… she had a sense that he might need this as much as she did today. Mentally slapping herself for being outrageous but ploughing ahead anyway she pulled out her best puppy dog expression and watched Gary crumble.

“He’ll have to go tandem. I’ll take him. And he needs to do the E-learning first.”

“I’m sure that would be fine!”

The stocky instructor approached Scott who stood to attention, being about 8 inches taller than Gary she could see his reaction over the shorter man’s head. Estera could guess the order of conversation from his open-book facial expressions - the grin and sparkling eyes would be in response to “you can jump”, the slight frown probably meant the news that he’d have to go tandem had been delivered and the hastily suppressed cringe was very likely indicative of worse news re the e-learning requirement. Scott nodded seriously, said something she couldn’t hear and accepted the offered tablet, immediately starting to read.

“Tez!”

She jogged over.

“When he’s finished that you brief him on the geography. And get him kitted up.” Gary looked pointedly at Scott’s very-much-not-BASE-Jump-Association-approved trousers and sighed pointedly. “At least his shoes are alright.”

Scott was sat on the footplate of the van, studiously focussed on the iPad but she was sure he blushed slightly. Gary marched off to oversee the setting up of the jump point.

“In fairness I have done far crazier things in similar trousers.”

She tried and failed to suppress a snort of laughter. “I’m sorry… I’m sure if you told him who you were he’d let you do what you liked.”

Scott smirked. “I did consider it. But… he’s not actually wrong. I don’t know any of your equipment, we do a LOT of training with ours. I don’t know the jump site and it isn’t as if I can scan it to get the data to an HUD. It would be pretty awkward if I misjudged and ended up a greasy smudge on the Devonshire coastline… given the day job.” He jerked his head in the direction Gary had disappeared in “Apparently the paperwork would ruin his week.”

Estera spluttered and he grinned up at her. “Just promise me you won’t tell a soul? I’ll never hear the end of it if Gordon or Alan find out. Anyway TEZ…” she screwed up her face at the awful nickname and he winked “aren’t you supposed to be briefing me?”

She pointed at the iPad and tapped her foot. He shrugged.

“I can take in both. Go ahead.” The last two words had a certain… commanding quality to them. Which she guessed made sense. Given the day job.

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“John. I believe there might be a Situation with Scott.”

John nearly inhaled his crème d’oursin and was halfway to his feet before his brain engaged. It was entirely possible he was catching the smotherhen from Scott. Penny had of course remained composed and asked EOS to elaborate.

“Certainly, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. I have been monitoring the life signs at the coastal location his rental vehicle reached. There are 16 life signs and I believe one represents Scott Tracy and another is highly likely to be Estera Hermaszewska.”

“Is he injured?

“It appears not, John.”

John placed his cutlery down delicately. “EOS… why? I haven’t asked you to monitor him. In fact I believe Scott specifically asked you not to do so.”

“Scott asked me not to monitor his vitals and location via his personal comm unit. He did not make any reference, positive or negative, to remote monitoring of his vehicle and its environs.” The AI’s voice had a petulant edge to it.

“Reference spirit of the law versus the letter of the law”

A few seconds passed.

“Oh.”

“You still haven’t explained why you are monitoring.”

“I am interested in the development of human friendships and believe Scott Tracy and Estera Hermaszewska would make an informative study. I am simultaneously monitoring three weather fronts, a wild fire in Peru, a developing coup in a Eurasian separatist state and I have learned 14% of the rules of cricket.”

“Still going on the cricket, EOS? It’s been a week?”

“I am determined to master it, John. It is the only sport where my understanding remains incomplete.”

John nodded and glanced at Penny who had been holding her napkin to her lips for rather longer than necessary to wipe the non-existent food residue from her face.

“Dare I ask what the Situation that concerns Scott is, EOS?”

“Yes, John.”

A pause. He clarified:

“What is the Situation, EOS?”

“All 16 life signs appear to have fallen over 100 vertical metres from the clifftop to the beach, John. All 16 remain viable and highly mobile which is anomalous in the circumstances.”

John frowned and ran a quick search on popular outdoor pursuits at the location. Then nodded. And sighed deeply.

“EOS, you need to stop monitoring Scott. He won’t thank you.”

“But John, what about…?”

“The only cause for concern here is that my eldest brother has found a friend as ridiculous as he is.”

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Scott leapt back in surprise and cursed loudly as the frigid water did its best to give him immediate frostbite.

Their harnesses and other equipment had been abandoned along with their shoes just above the tideline. The thrill-seeking group were dealing with the adrenaline comedown by rolling their trousers above the knees in order to sample the waters of the English Channel in late April. Which was clearly a lot closer to the Arctic Circle than his knowledge of geography had previously suggested.

He mock-glared at Estera who was unflinchingly shin deep in the gentle surf and doubled over laughing at him.

“Can’t we just jump off the cliff again?”

“I thought you lived by the sea?”

“Not this kind of sea!” Oops that was edging closer to a whine than he was proud of. Come on Tracy, man up.

He edged cautiously back to where the waves lapped over the pebbles and gritted his teeth to suppress the shudder as the nerves in his toes gave up and died on the spot.

“Last night I went for a swim and it was 72 degrees…” he quickly converted “about 22 Celsius.”

“Aaah this would be about 10.”

That figured.

“You should come back at Christmas, it’s tradition to swim in it on Boxing Day, sometimes we break the ice to do so.”

“Yep, I’m increasingly convinced the British are insane.”

She kicked icy water at him. He shrieked in an incredibly macho way and responded in the only way a self-respecting Commander, CEO and Responsible Big Brother could:

Competitively.

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