#work duties done

[ladybugsimblr]

When you signed up for a nice family fun and game night, but you were the one getting played. Sometimes it be your own kids (and wife). Sorry Q, you had to know Bailey would eventually get back at you. I think we can officially call a truce now though.

Q's Last Bowling Disaster: 🎳

[reds-skull]

My mom named one of the street cats she feeds Tommy, so I thought to myself, "what if..."

[toxooz]

-draws human battering ram König like its my next hit of crack-

[mehh141]

Morning Captain 🥱

[altcvnningham]

pinprick {request}

adler x bell!reader x felix

request: for @reirats70, who asked for adler x bell!reader x felix !!

tags: nsfw mention, mdni, bell!reader, gn!reader (but the word 'pretty' is used to describe them), established adlerbell, mk ultra/separation mention, kissing, oral, author has never written felix before and is super nervous, adler is a little too happy for a man who should be in jail wc: 1.5k

a/n: slowly working through requests but this one was too exciting to pass up!! still a little hesitant to post full blown nsfw (when it isn't exclusively adlerbell at least) so i hope the lil spice included is okay :) this is my first time writing felix as well and i hope it satisfies!! thank you for the request <3

“It is quite interesting,” Felix muses to himself, almost as though you weren’t even there, held tight in his grasp and flitting restlessly like a moth in a mason jar. The latex-gloved hand that holds your face turns you back to face the light, where his eyes pierce yours again. “The way it seems to have left a scar in the iris. Pinprick. Almost imperceptible.”

Off to the side where even your periphery can’t quite catch, Adler sucks on a cigarette, leaning back against the cart table sat in the centre of the ops room; his presence lingers inauspiciously, as unavoidable as the smoke that billows in the air, huffed out in a plume of laughter from his unsmiling mouth.

“Yeah, well, with pretty eyes like Bell’s, you notice.”

The comment shouldn’t make your heart stir or your stomach flutter as pathetically as it does, but much like it always has, your body responds to Adler’s words in a way your mind detests to admit; he’s never been one for the most direct compliments, but the fact that this one isn’t even said to you somehow makes it all the more rousing to hear- like a dirty secret caught round an open doorway. As you attempt to turn your head to try and look at him, Felix interjects, a squeeze tighter around your flushed face.

“Very pretty. So, it was necessary to inject the compound straight into the eye?”

Suddenly the topic of conversation comes back into focus, the very reason for you being in your rather compromised position. With Harrow sequestered off in the other wing of the Rook bound to a chair, Adler had suggested to Marshall the use of Separation to help ease the process- or complicate it, you’d mumbled curtly- and had begun all misty-eyed to wax poetic about the night he’d used it on you, strapped to that gurney after Cuba. It’s a sickening topic to be caught in the middle of, left all the more a bitter taste in your mouth since Adler had made an unspoken vow never to bring up MK Ultra again. But in Felix’s piqued curiosity of the compound- be it vanity or a genuine willingness to pass knowledge along, Adler had offered to teach him how to make it, use it, how it worked. You want to scoff at him, as though he knew anything about the technical intricacies of the drug- though it isn’t as if he was about to drag Park back out of the desert just to give a more comprehensive lecture.

And for some reason, here you were, not quite the lab rat you were a decade ago but feeling painstakingly close to it, gaping up at Felix as his gaze runs you over like a man starved. Of what, you can’t possibly imagine. Hasn’t he had his fill of you enough these past weeks? Haven’t they both?

Adler’s voice pulls you back to the present, bookended by the faint chiming in the back of your mind. Ding.

“To get the desired results, yes,” Adler explains, barely regarding you with anything more than impartiality as he steps over next to Felix, studying you with similarly clinical indifference. “But I think this time just a shot to the neck should be enough. Harrow’s tough, but only ‘cause I taught her how to be. Trust me, the Achilles heel is there, she’ll crack easy.”

“Oh? And Bell was…?”

Adler smirks, and when he dips his head to peer at you over his aviators he actually looks at you, regarding you, not like the poked and prodded subject you’ve been for the last ten minutes, seemingly made of glass with the way their focus seemed to land through you entirely. A soft laugh leaves him- a rarity you cherish since he’s softened in his age- and he pinches your cheek, right above where Felix’s thumb secures a firm grip.

“Oh, Bell was a real tough nut to crack. We were there for hours. Stubborn thing, aren’t you?”

All you can really do is stare- you can barely open your mouth to talk, Felix’s hand squashing your face like a doll’s- but you suppose the question is a rhetorical one anyway, leaving Adler to bask in his smug superiority.

Felix chuckles, though his eyes don’t quite meet yours yet the way Adler’s does, instead now roving your face, the features made pink and prickled warm by the overwhelming attention from both men.

It’s a strange thing- you aren’t typically so flustered, certainly not around Adler, used to his bizarre attempts at affection, but Felix in particular had a way of making you feel special in the oddest ways. He’s direct, and that in contrast to Adler’s myriad riddles of non-answers and emotions shadowed over by impenetrable aviators made for… an interesting combination. Adler hadn’t changed much over the decade- a little softer around the edges, both in looks and temperament, but the sharp and jagged corners of your relationship still remains even with the mutable tenderness of passing time, not quite healing wounds so much as smacking a band-aid over the hole he’d nearly put in your head. That being said, you still ran circles around each other the same way you did back in Berlin, ever caught in the endless cat-and-mouse. Still fighting, still kissing, still not quite making up, then doing it all over again.

But Felix was to the point. There was rarely any guessing as to how he felt in your presence. Terse when impatient, rigid when agitated, but sweet and heartfelt, with a certain compassion that surprised you. His affection came easy, unbidden- a little shy at times, but he wore his heart on his sleeve, and admiration on his face clearly enough that Adler had eventually caught on. And where you’d feared that Adler would only increase his vigilance, tighten his grip on your leash, and usher his bird back into their gilded cage, rather, he was unexpectedly content to let Felix indulge his affections for you, to the point that now you felt… shared, almost.

An odd thing indeed.

If you could recall how it started, it was subtle and slow, very nearly unnoticeable. A graze of the knuckles here, a helping hand staying just a moment too long there. Adler sending you on fetch quests for the ex-Stasi, then turning to abscond with him in another room and vanish. Inklings of hushed conversations shared between them across the room, their eyes pointed to you with wry, bitten smiles. It was like having a pretty secret dangled right in front of your nose, but just so very barely out of reach that it was nigh insufferable.

Maddening, until those subtle scrapes turned to shared touches, Adler showing you off like a prize pony to Felix who’d all but watch in awe. You’d always been something akin to Adler’s reluctant pet, even back in the old days. You could never imagine how quickly you’d reassume the role, even after the years had whittled the effectiveness of your trigger phrase to nothing but empty words he’d occasionally use to mock you. As if you’d need it to do as he pleases. As if you’d need an incentive at all when the starry glint in Felix’s eyes is reward enough.

And it’s always been hard to keep up with Adler; with them both, it takes herculean effort to so much as keep your head straight. It’s one thing to have them dote attention upon you as they do now, and another thing entirely to find yourself one night in the kitchen as the whole house slept, held with your back to Adler’s chest in a vice grip, his tongue in your mouth, while Felix’s worked in near reverent devotion between your legs like a man starved. Your whimpers silenced only by the way they’d swap to take turns quicker than you could let go of the breath you’d been holding, keening over and relinquishing your hands to slide into blond tresses once more. With blind pleasure hewing your focus to a pinprick, it’d get harder to distinguish who was who, only able to discern the distinct pinching of latex gloves into the plush of your ass, or the scrape of pitted sandpaper scars along the inside of your thigh. A crazed thing, did it not excite you so much.

You blink back to the present moment when you feel the light, patronising smack of Felix’s hand against your cheek, pale blue latex nipping soft skin. He’s smiling, eyes bright with amusement, and in your daze you must have missed something, because you catch Adler’s smirk off to the side, remnants of a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Felix muses.

“Enough chatter. Let’s see what we can do to help Adler with this Separation, hm?”

And before you can so much as attempt to blurt a response he squeezes your face again, puckering your mouth, and plants a chaste- if not teasing- kiss upon your lips.

[kineticallyanywhere]

Time & Space pages 1-2 ( This is the start || ao3 (not yet!) || next ) Starts less than 24 hours after the death of Willy Stampler. With the job done, there's finally time to sort some things out. They just need the right amount of space.

[bun-nny-nny]

Okay, so I got a new lip tint, and I'm having some very nsfw thoughts

Kissing and giving Si a bj while wearing a glossy liptint, but his dick gets stained for a bit 🤭 even better if it's one of the plumping liptints >:3

~💋 [Can I be 💋 anon?]

YES HELLO SWEET ANON i apologize to all of you its taking me so long to respond so much going on this past week my first ever anon with a emoji YIPPIE! bUT THIS IS SO GOD DAMN GOOD i love a good liptint i personally use this one that looks like blood i bet you look to die for in that liptint ANYWAY a lil somethin for ya NSFW MDNI

Simon definitely has a thing for lips; maybe it's because his are dry and scar-covered, but he LOVES seeing your lips all nice and soft, even lovingly putting chapstick on you no matter where you are. His favorite pastime is holding your chin between his fingers. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to squish your cheeks lightly, making your pretty lips pout for him as he applies your favorite flavor. So when you come home one day from the mall with a small bag in hand with a name he recognizes, excitement courses through him immediately. He follows you like a guard dog throughout the house as you climb the stairs to your bedroom. He's right behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body hovering behind you perfectly. "I got a new lip tint today," you chirp as his hands reach your hips. Without looking at him, you could tell he was grinning, knowing exactly where this was heading. It doesn't take much longer till you are sat between his massive thighs, his pants and boxer pulled down enough to let his cock free, leaking from its pretty reddish tip aching for your attention, but Simon ignored it for now, he was too busy looking at your sweet face as he slowly spread the wand of the lip tint applicator against your bottom lip letting out a pleased groan as he watched the shimmery light pink liquid coat your soft lips. "There we go...look a' that...so pretty... spread it around your lips for me, " says Simon in that deep, husky voice that makes your heart flutter. You obey immediately, letting him watch as you press your lips together, letting the glittery pink substance stain the rest of your lips, giving them a lovely crepe pink. His honey-brown eyes never left your lips, and a soft groan pulled from his as he watched you smile up at him. One of his hands went to your chin, making you sit up on your knees, nice and ready for him. he slaps his thick cock against your cheek a few times, watching as his precum sticks to your face letting the needy tip run from your cheek to your cute lips. his breath hitching as he rubbed his cock head against your bottom lip, watching as the glossy gel coated his member. "open that mouth for me, love." Immediately you obey, parting your lips, letting your tongue stick out just like he likes letting the tip of his cock rest gently against the flat of your tongue, adoring the way your drool pools in your mouth. Slowly, his fingers lace through the locks of your hair, nails lightly digging into your scalp, making you let out the soft, sweet moans he loves so much. Your soft gloss-covered lips slowly warp around his bulbous head, making a breathy groan rip out of him as his eyes shut, taking in the feeling of your wet, warm cavern suckling and licking at his tip, his grip on your head tightening. Slowly his hips start to move, rocking in and out in small short thrust, inching more and more of his enormous cock past your pink lips watching as the lip tint spread over his shaft, coating it in a sticky, glittery pink liquid. he let out moans through gritted teeth as his eyes opened, watching as his cock became covered, your plush lips swallowing his member, letting it slide down your throat with a cough and a gag. You eventually grew more used to it, letting yourself breathe through your nose. With a rough thrust, he finally buried himself deep down your throat, holding your head down so your face was buried in the thick hair that lay at the base of his member, taking in his musky scent. The sight of your lips wrapped fully around his cock as your eyes welled with tears and the makeup smeared and coated his hair. He was panting out of breath, taking in your disheveled form as you focused on not choking. "What a good fucking job you're doing, love. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me."

this is all i could do!!!!! >.<

[spookypete-94]

Nightmare's Wasteland

Chapter 1- Devil's Playground

Been on a Handmaid's Tale kick as of late. Made me wonder how Simon would be in this situation. I have always loved this series and the power behind it. The books are amazing (Margaret Atwood, wonderful, wonderful, author) and so is the tv series on Hulu. It is just the concept being used, will not involve places, names and/or characters of The Handmaid's Tale.

Small series. Reader is a female character in a dystopian world where the ability to conceive is limited to a small percentage of people. Reader is of that percentage and is assigned to Simon to provide a child to a declining population. She learns how live with him and survive, while he learns about her life prior before being delivered to hell. Def a darker read, MDNI.

CW and heads up- Reader is female in this, also has tattoos. Leave it to the imagination, only one described for now. Also language (we know how i love language)

If Simon Riley could be described as anything from a word in history, Warlord would be listed at the very top. Warrior. Solider. In reality, it’s all the same. Pick whatever word in that branch of that tree, and he fits it.

To be able to be such a thing, he had to turn off all things that made him human. No love, no happiness, no peace. It left him in a world without a wife, no children, family gone- left him a long time ago at the cost of his area of expertise.

When the world started to end, and he was too damaged to try to defend and protect it anymore, he was assigned a life. A home. He was given a civilian life… followed by excuses of this was his “reward”. Laughable to him really, this was far from what he wanted. Instead, he was given a different duty and told to provide children for the next generation. Children of strong genetics. Hope to be provided of his strength and wit…Honestly, he’d rather be out on the frontlines again. His duty would be better served there, being a ghost, THE Ghost, was what he did best. Specter in the line of work, no one ever saw him coming. Start to unravel and show how broken you are though, and they send you back to try to be part of the what’s “normal” life now.

Here he sat, in large empty house. A staff provided for all things to run it. Only exception it was barren of all the things that made it a home. Photographs, knickknacks, but more importantly a wife and children. It had been pressed on him to find a wife, but as he explained to his overhead he just wasn’t interested. Apparently, they could turn a blind eye to that, but he still was required to add to the population. He was a fertile, and it was his duty after all. The answer to a wife, was a temporary live in. One he was only expected to lay with during ovulation.

The idea filled him with dread, but not a soul got to have a say in this world of what was going to happen. The government was too strong for its own good now and he was too deep in it. All from being its war dog, and now given his bone and told to go home.

Simon’s inner turmoil was rudely interrupted as one of the house staff knocked on his office door. “Mr. Riley? They are all here, waiting downstairs in the foyer.”

A heavy sigh left him before he called back out, “Will be down in a few.”

Swallowing the rest of his bourbon, he set the glass down on his desk twirling it a few times by the rim with his large finger.

Now or never.

Encroaching downstairs, he saw a gathering of about four people. All dressed in black, one with a hood pulled all the way up hiding their face.

That would be you.

If you could be described as anything, it would be: Not made for this world. Your heart was soft, but the desire to live your own life once again thrived inside. A weed that couldn't quite be pulled out. The ache hurt that soft heart of yours. Children had always been a thought on your mind but deemed not good enough to be a wife from past choices of your old life, you were pushed into the service of bearing them for others. “Good enough to be bred, not good enough to be wed.” As you had been told. To be in the service, it was required of you to learn what was lady like. Quiet, barely there. Don’t fight back and don’t speak your mind. Make yourself small, don’t get in the way. Don’t agree? Great. Here is your issued beating and punishment. Take it on the cheek and turn it for the next one.

Those who could not bear children, were put into hard labor. Running a house, in home cook, cleaning maid, you name it. If you wouldn’t comply to meet the new standards, you were shipped off to work in the mines or sent to death. Funny a world so eagerly wanting to make life was so quick to snuff it out.

Never once you would think your life would be like this. All those freedoms taken and stripped from you. What you would give to have your old life back. Be able to sleep in. Go outside and to the stores when you wished. A fucking latte? What you would give for any of that now. All of that taken for granted...

Passing through the requirements made you fit for duty. Issued your new place of residency, to meet your new Master and Lady. Only this place didn’t have a Lady. The Master so much of a brute of a man to never take one, was rumor you had heard. It scared you. A man that clearly couldn't even be gentle enough to have a wife. Maybe that was why they picked this place for you first, to make you fearful of the new world. More submission.

Standing in the entryway, heavy boots could be heard on the bare wood. You wanted to look up at your new Master but deemed it best to keep your head down and eyes on the floor. Make yourself small. Lady Like. Pressing your hands tightly together in your front, fingers laced together in a way to try to compose yourself. In the old world you might have twiddled your thumbs together, but in this new one not even that would be acceptable.

“Mr. Riley,” your Governess spoke with fake pleasantry, “We apologize for rising you from your office. We are early after all.”

On time. He was late. This was her way of trying to stroke his ego, all while of pointing out the time to him. Only made her look dumb.

Not even a reply, just a grunt. His boots finally appearing at the bottom of the steps. The place you had been looking but now diverting your eyes further down. You noticed his boots were perfect and polished, the black shining from the light in the room. It looked like military attire.

“Today is a happy day, this is your new Chamber Maid.”

The term made your face hot, red. Your life you had before… and now reduced to a “Chamber Maid”?

What the fuck.

Your black hood being wrenched down so your new Master could look down upon you startled you.

Carefully, you glanced up. Your heart had hit the bottom of your stomach seeing a man with dirty blonde colored hair shaved down in military fashion. Matched the idea of his boots. His nose crooked from being broken by at least once… or a few times. A scar that ran across his mouth to the bottom of his nose on his cheek. Brown eyes burned down into your wide orbs while he all but sneered down at you. Here, you were certain the devil was standing before you. Handsome and scary all at once.

“Introduce yourself, don’t be rude,” Your Governess nudged into you roughly with her elbow.

New manners that had just been taught, returned to you. A small curtsey before him, careful with your legs as your head ducked down and standing back up fully. It was executed beautifully. Quietly, you gave your name. Instead of him giving you his, he grunted once more. You knew his name already, why waste his time with all this fake bullshit was his thought.

“Your room is upstairs; the staff will show you around.” His voice a deep threatening rumble.

This was all you got? Your living quarters? Your heart fractured. Not even worth being shown around by the man that was supposed to impregnate you. You could drop to your knees and cry right here if able. Lady like. You must not show any emotion, any thought behind your beautiful eyes. Just a breedable doll is all you were now.

A hand wrapping around your arm and tugging you along made your attention divert. The staff. An older woman, “My name’s Kate. Come with me.”  Mr. Riley had already started his way upstairs, your Governess and other hierarchy leaving. This felt so strange to you enough as it is, but to have an abrupt goodbye made you feel like an adopted animal.

“Is there really no wife?” you whispered to her. Is he really a brute? Was the question you wanted to ask.

“No, no wife, but Mr. Riley is really not hard to live with,” she whispered back.

He might not be, but you felt your circumstances would be different.

A quick show around the large house ended with your room. It wasn’t bad in size. A full-sized bed shoved up against the wall with a window and rocking chair provided. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was there for an eventual baby, one that you would rock to sleep.

Starting with trying to settle in, you unpacked your clothes. Or rather uniforms. Because you had “sinned” in your past life, your uniform is a long black dress with long sleeves. Because you had tattoos scattered across places, you were to cover them. The only time your uniform was to be off was when you were alone. Even when you were to lay with your Master, the dress would remain on, both of you to be fully clothed. Still with your clothes, you felt naked at the idea. Stripped of any dignity.

Settled in, you had found Kate once more and helped her with her house duties and making supper. Idle hands were the devil’s workshop or some shit like that.

“You’re to sit at the table with him.” Kate whispered, nodding to the direction of the dining room. "Requested you himself."

Nervous, you smoothed out your dress, pressing away any crumbs from making supper. Looking back up at her, she nodded in a silent reply of asking her If you looked appropriate.

Quietly, you made our way into the dining room a large table that could have sat an army before you, Mr. Riley already sitting at the end of it. Even though the table was so large, a chair was all the way at the other end. Unsure of what exactly to do, you stood in front of the door with your hands interlocked together again.

“Well go on, sit,” Mr. Riley said gesturing to the end of the table.

“Yes, Mr. Riley,” you said meekly quickly walking to the end of the table to sit down.

One by one, the house staff filed in carrying the food and placing it on the table, making you both a plate as they did. The plate placed before you was steaming, filled across the circumference. Been a long time since you had a home cooked meal.

“Heard you had a helping hand with the meal tonight.” He said cutting into his piece of fried chicken.

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Not expected of you.”

Your tongue wanted to fire back, wanted to cut him from the knees down. Would rather that then what is expected of me. But instead, you were quiet, choosing to eat instead.

It stayed silent like that through the rest of dinner besides clanking of dishes and silverware. Mr. Riley getting up and going to his office after he had cleared his plate, leaving you alone to finish yours. Made you wonder if he lived in that room.

Deciding to get up you helped Kate with clearing the rest of the kitchen and cleaning up from dinner. Most of it taken care of you told Kate to step out and take a break willing to finish the dishes. Having a task at hand to focus on now was helpful. The feeling of walking into the twilight zone curbed with getting food off dishes.

The calm you had felt left seeing a large man move into the kitchen. The only large man here. Looking over your shoulder you watched him get into the fridge pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Told you we have help for that.”

“I told her to go take a break.”

“ Y’ sure you should give orders like that? Do you have the authority to do so?”

Shit. You had insulted him in his own home on the first fucking day. What a good start.

“I didn’t mean it like that-" but you were abruptly pushed forward further against the sink by him. Your breath was caught. You wanted to turn around but couldn’t. Expecting a strike, you flinched inward, but instead three large fingers grab carefully at your collar tugging it down, his thumb sweeping against the back of your neck.

“Skull and cross bones, huh?” He asked.

He was referring to the tattoo on the back of your neck. Some how he had caught it, even with the ugly collar on your dress.

“Was my very first one.”

“And that’s what you picked?” Was he bantering with you?

“I picked it out at a rock concert.”

“That the type of girl you are then? The one that gives breaks and gets skull tattoos?”

You were unable to find an answer. It seemed rhetorical anyway.

“Asked you question.”

Fuck.

“Appears to be that way, yeah.”

Cheeky.

He chuckled, swiping his thumb across it once more before giving you a light shove against the sink from his hand that held your hip. No longer where you terrified. It all almost seemed playful in nature.

“Tomorrow, Kate does the dishes. I can’t have her slacking.”

“Yes, Mr. Riley.”

Standing there feeling dumb, you closed your eyes at feeling his rough hand on your neck over and over again. Mind eye picturing what he looked while he was behind you. Perhaps he wouldn’t be too hard to get along with after all.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

Nightmare's Wasteland Masterlist

Next

[waterlinkedgirl]

Musical Touken Ranbu: Michinooku ~ Hitotsu Hachisu (Michinooku ~ A Single Lotus)

Here we go! Only a few days after the archive release and toumyu's ninth anniversary (congratulations!)

Michioku, or Michihasu, is a myu I have many conflicting feelings about, both positive and negative. However, I do believe that with the right amount of care in the next Mika-related story myu, the negative can still be cleared. Plus, I'm glad about a lot of things being re-established. The writer does need to step up her game a little on the plot-writing side of things, as well as the understanding-and-respecting-past-myu side of things, but as long as she does, this can still be given a proper place within what was already established.

Keep in mind that these are only the subtitle files, timed and tled to the DMM senshuuraku and the bluray respectively. The archive version will have a talk at the start, so the starting times of the subs will have to be delayed accordingly.

You can find the subtitles and my TL notes document here!

[antiquepearlss]

I actually really want Eugene to officiate the Varigo wedding because one, it’s not a very official or proper wedding. If anything, it’s something Rapunzel and Varian put together in one week and is essentially just a giant party where they blow stuff up and eat cake. Varian totally asks Eugene thirty minutes beforehand if he will officiate and after five minutes of sobbing, he agrees.

And two, because I want him to say this line-

“It has been a joy to watch your distracting childish rivalry turn into a distracting childish courtship, which will undoubtedly turn into a distracting childish marriage.”

[reds-skull]

Needed to see this man beaten and bruised, but in pink this time

(Also hey I actually have free time again)

[gold0kapi]

wip sketches

[tw1nkee28]

Mer!au Dawn from the discord server :]

He's a Lionfish !! Very poisonous,,,,

Reference of his colors and hands :D

(I love Lionfish,,,🫶)

[f1zzy-z0mb13-935]

Mwehehehe

[whatev-i-guess]

Soap: Hey love, can I kiss you?

Ghost sorting out paperwork: No.

Soap sulking: Oh, okay...

Ghost with a side eye: Wait in your room. I will be there in a bit.

Soap smiling: Oh, okay!

Ghost rubbing his eyes after Johnny is gone: Fuck, someday I won't be able to hold back at work anymore...

[pampanope]

Just a bit of Red11 fluff~

Names

———————————

Efren savored his half milk, half coffee, and peaked over the rim of the hot mug to stare at the blonde across the kitchen table.

Emile grunted in acknowledgment, sensing eyes on him even with his head down and scribbling notes. He’s got a sixth sense for the other’s eyes.

“What are you plotting, Fangs?”

The Shadow considered his words; a specific thought plagued his mind, one that burrowed itself deep and would not leave. He figured maybe the best way to remove it was to share it. Let it take root in the other as well and they both go a little nuts over it.

“So…I was thinking —“

“Dangerous,” Emile said without missing a beat.

“— about something my mom taught me. About my middle name,” Efren continued, ignoring the other, because damn right his mind was dangerous.

“Hm-hmm…”

“It’s part of Filipino tradition but I’m sure other cultures do the same,” Efren prefaced. He sipped his mug of bootlegged latté. “My middle name’s my mom’s maiden name. All kids in our culture have their mom’s maiden name as their middle name, regardless of gender. It’s an easy way to trace one’s lineage.”

“Yeah…” Emile kept at his work, but the quick glance at Efren showed his partial attention.

The Shadow smiled gleefully into his mug. “When someone gets married and they’re taking on their spouse’s last name, their own family name becomes their new middle name, replacing the old one.”

The blonde’s scribbling gradually slowed before stopping. He blinked into his notepad and slowly looked at the smug brunette across the table.

Hook, line and fucking sinker, as the Commander loved to say.

Efren feigned nonchalance, delighting in the light pink on Emile’s face. “It’s just really fascinating to think about. Don’t you agree?”

Emile blinked some more.

Efren Torres Aldrich to…

Efren Aldrich Hart —

“Fangs…”

Efren swiftly downed his drink, got up, planted a wet kiss on Emile’s forehead, and made his way towards the door with a bounce in his step.

“See ya later, Sunshine. Got some baby Shadows to bark at.” Efren winked, laughing at the other man’s sputtering as he shut the door behind him.

The seed’s been planted. It’s gonna be interesting to see what comes of it later tonight.