#the whole thing just gives the vibe of keeping up appearances

[ingravinoveritas]

Georgia talking about staged again and now their…… flirting? Is that what you would call putting a heart on Anna and her calling Georgia a flirt?? Radio silence from the both of them and now randomly there’s this.

Hi there! Well, I'm not sure it's really random. But let's get the visual up here first, for those who haven't seen Georgia/AL's Insta stories today:

So this seemed to start with Georgia posting the story about Staged playing on BBC iPlayer after she finished watching OFMD. The second story is the one with Georgia drawing the heart around AL, followed by the story with her drawing a heart around the glass of wine Michael is holding, and then Anna shared Georgia's story and called her a flirt.

The reason I don't believe this is random is because for the last several days, all everyone has been talking about online is Ineffable Con and Rob/Gavin's comments about the kiss between Michael/Aziraphale and David/Crowley. And as we've seen before, just when the conversation gets too focused on Michael and David, Georgia and AL post a story or photo to bring the attention back to them. It's actually fairly predictable at this point, since it's happened multiple times previously (though I would say this seems a bit more blatant than other instances, given that there isn't any reason for either of them to promote Staged right now).

My thought in regard to the "flirt" comment is that I agree with you in not understanding exactly how that reads as flirting (as it didn't come across that way to me). I do wonder if this is another attempt at Georgia and AL trying to be the female analogues to David and Michael (which we've also seen before), but it again doesn't work because they don't have that same chemistry or flirty dynamic that Michael and David have. Also, if this actually was "flirting," what was the purpose in GT circling the glass of wine? Is she flirting with the wine as much as AL? Once you look past the straightforward promotional aspect of these stories, it just seems very weird.

Weirdness is apparently the theme for the day, however, as there was also this reply from AL on Twitter earlier:

If you look at the timestamps, AL replied to this tweet/Michael's tweet exactly one minute after Michael replied. Going back to the idea of predictability, there's been nonstop discussion for the past several days about Michael and David kissing, and my first thought was that she seemed to just be looking for a reply that she could jump on and insert herself, to where I would not be surprised if she has notifications set up for his tweets for just such an occasion.

Upon further consideration, I did get the feeling that her "Where can I get one?" was not at all sincere in the way that Michael's was. It came across to me as a passive-aggressive way of reasserting her position (i.e., "I'm the only one who actually gets to love Michael Sheen"). It also makes it seem like she is fighting with the fans for Michael's attention, on top of already competing with David (although let's be honest, there is no competition there). More than that, however, I also got the feeling that AL copying his comment was her way of mocking him for wanting the t-shirt at all (i.e., "Look how stupid he is for wanting this stupid shirt"). Which of course is not something she would actually say, but the copied text along with the reply coming only one minute later makes it seem a bit circumspect. And it makes me feel sad for the fan who made the original post who may not realize what is really going on.

In any case, those are my thoughts on GT and AL's social media posts today. As I've always said before, I know I could be completely wrong in my interpretations, but the timing is just too strange for me to believe it's a coincidence. I'm happy to hear others' thoughts, though...

#phantomstars24 #reply post #georgia tennant #staged #or 'Brokeback Mount Him' which is what i am referring to Staged as from here on out #the more i think about it the weirder this all seems #again if this was a one time thing i wouldn't even say anything #but the fact that it keeps happening is...yeah #the whole thing just gives the vibe of keeping up appearances #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #also historically i am terrible at picking up on flirting so i know i may not be the best person to comment on this #although i think i did pick up on Neil flirting with me on Twitter one time #anna lundberg #discourse

[azatas]

feeling like redesigning my pwotr character which is unfortunate because she has the most aesthetically pleasing pinterest board of all my ocs by far

#i try to stick to an aesthetic but then i find things that work perfectly for the character and i have to add them even if they dont go #she'd have the same vibe/aesthetic though i'd just be changing her appearance a little #i've been intrigued by the idea of boring looking tieflings lately for some reason #they still have the horns and the tail and the spiny bodies and all i just mean giving them natural skin/hair colours #like pink and purple and blue is so fun but i think it would be pretty fucked up to be just sliiiiightly off . just a little bit Not Right #especially for hiraeth her whole Thing is she tries to be as charming as possible to make up for what she is. to be the Good Tiefling #she files down her claws and keeps her horns short and it works in varisia but mendev is probably the worst place to be a tiefling #every time someone flinches when they look at her because they assume she's a demon she takes so much psychic damage #atp i should just tag this #oc: hiraeth #im getting a little burned out on bg tbh and wotr is calling to me..... #i wanted to wait for the rest of the dlc to drop though #dee.txt

[cepheustarot]

What is people's first impression of you?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: In general I can say that people's first impression of you is quite positive! I should immediately note that for many you stand out with your aura, you immediately catch the eye because you have a predominant vibe of a sunny person, kind, warm with whom you can easily find a common language and in general you are affable and friendly. Most people around you feel comfortable and easy to communicate, immediately after spending time with you their mood improves and a good mood remains for the whole day. At the same time many people see youf as a person capable of leading people, you have the traits of a leader, you are persistent, you know how to get along with people of any age because you know how to find an approach to any person even if he is the most sullen, taciturn and with a complex character.  Also many people see you as an intelligent person with high intelligence, you can probably quickly "get out of a situation" and come up with a solution in a matter of seconds, you can find solutions quickly and, in general, react faster than anyone in stressful situations. Despite the fact that you are kind and generous enough to many, you do not cross this line and in case of a quarrel you will stand your ground, do not let yourself be offended but at the same time you will not  fall downward to the level of the offender and will not insult him in return, put pressure on pain points. Many people may get the impression that you are a person who plans everything, not one of those who likes to improvise but strictly act as planned, because this way you feel more calm and you have a feeling that you are firmly on the ground, keeping everything under control.

Pile 2: People's first impression of you is the following: people see you as a very romantic person, perhaps you can often romanticize some situations in life, you are one of those who can find aesthetics in everything, you can often take photos just because you can find beauty in many things. Many people really like the way you take photos, your style and appearance and generally like your vision of the world. You are also seen as an open person, you are very emotional and speak directly about your feelings and share your thoughts. You are also open to everything new, you are characterized by curiosity, a desire to try something new and moreover, you yourself may feel the desire to bring something new into the world! You are a very gentle person who can often get sentimental, you are also very empathic and you have a high level of emotional intelligence, you will never be indifferent listening to someone's life story. You are open to new acquaintances and in general I can say that you like to communicate with people, learn something new about them, get closer but it is difficult to truly become your close friend or your lover because you are selective and careful about choosing your close environment.

Pile 3: First of all people get the first impression of you as a person who has achieved a lot in his life or at least you have an understanding of what you want to achieve in your life. You have probably already planned your actions for the coming years and you are one of those who brings what has been started to the end, nothing can break you and you will not be persuaded, you are very persistent in this regard and always do what you want, what you need without bending to the words of other people. People think that you are a sane person, you can really reason logically, you are not one of those who worry about trifles. You prefer to solve the problem right away without succumbing to emotions, I can generally call you a person of action, you are very hardworking, persistent and always moving forward. You also tend to think optimistically, you will find benefits in any situation, you will find something good and positive. People believe that you value family relationships very much, you love your family and your relatives, you can have quite warm and strong relationships with them, since they always support you and are always on your side, they usually do not condemn your decisions and your actions, because they see you as a mature and adult, an independent person.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

#tarot #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pac #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image

[inkdrinkerworld]

a spider!reader who gives off “sweet girl next door” vibes? she tries to bring miguel cookies with he’s working on something and he scares her, coming off more angry than intended, and ends up dropping them on the floor. (collect groan lmao)

contains minor spoilers to across the spider-verse pt 2

you’d been thinking all day after the whole fiasco of recruiting gwen that miguel needed cheering up.

margo warned you not to, said, ‘he’s a grump. let him grump.’

but you hadn’t been able to take that answer. there was something about miguel that didn’t just scream grump. something seemed tired about him.

so, you tried your hand at baking him something. you’d debated for a long time of chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal cookies were more his style.

you decided on chocolate chip.

you spent two days on them, using a recipe which required brown butter, overnight chilling and a lot of dark chocolate.

you got a lot of flour on you as you baked them, watching them rise and then spread out on the floor of the kitchen.

when they were done you packed them up in a cute purple box you snagged from the cafeteria.

your heart leapt to your throat as you turned down the corner to HQ, hoping that you wouldn’t catch miguel at a bad time.

that hope is decimated when you walk in and find him grumbling to his computer.

“um, miguel?” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stand in the archway.

“what? what do you need?” he huffs and you feel some of your momentum dry up.

“i brought something for you, but if you’re busy-“ it appears that was the wrong thing to say.

“of course i’m busy! i’m always busy trying to keep the stupid multi-verse from collapsing. maybe some other time we can chit chat.”

you’d never actually been on the receiving end of miguel’s upset, and maybe this wasn’t exactly for you but his tone and the way his arms are flailing around his body makes you feel small in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time.

“right,” you whisper, managing not to cry as you jolt and the box of cookies fall. “i’m sorry for bothering you.”

miguel watches as you don’t even bend to pick up the box. he watches you turn like you’re being remote controlled and he catches sight of your hands wiping at your eyes.

“great, you’ve made her cry casanova.” lyla appears suddenly, foot tapping in air as her arms cross over her chest.

“so now i’m the bad guy?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical. he feels like the bad guy. guilt and shame burn his throat and belly like he’s downed two tequila shots with no lime or salt.

lyla flits to the box, “she made you cookies.”

miguel sighs, hands scrubbing at his face as he steps off the platform to pick up the box. in your neat cursive he notices you’ve written, ‘a pick me from having to do all the hard stuff.’

he wants to smash something. of course he’d blow up at possibly the nicest spider-woman variant. of course he’d be the asshole to make you cry too.

“where is she?” he asks lyla as he sets the box on the desk and opens it to find the cookies all broken. they smell delicious - something close to that bakery you liked when you’d visited earth-2067 with him on a scouting mission.

you and miguel always make a great team on missions and he hates to admit it but he’s very fond of you and he knows you're fond of him too.

it’s why his chest is aching and he needs to find you. “lyla, where is she?”

“in her room, blasting music and cleaning. give the girl a moment alone before you barge in there and make it worse.”

#miguelo’hara #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x yn #miguel spiderverse #miguel o‘hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x black!reader #miguel o'hara x you

[leclsrc]

see it through ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, fake dating au, fluff!, humor, slight angst, slow burn-ish, yearning

word count: 9k

“It’s a proposition for the fans.” She smiles. “It’s a fake relationship.” Or: you go from social media manager to girlfriend in under a day. Keeping up appearances for Charles’ family isn’t easy, until it is – and until they’re not really appearances anymore.

notes... internet translated italian ahaha

auds here... this fic is quite long! i hope you all like it. title from this bee gees song which reappears in the fic later. few music references here so if you like to listen to music, just look for the titles, they’re famous!

You’d gotten the phone call on a Saturday morning.

Barely morning, you realized when you were digging for your phone in the sheets, half-asleep—it’d been five minutes past noon. You’d swiped, pressed the phone to your ear, and waited for the other end to speak, eyes shut.

“Good morning,” a vague voice had said on the other said, distinctly American. “This is Jenna Griffin, newly appointed PR specialist for Ferrari. Your boss told me you were free for lunch on Monday, so can I pencil you in for a one-thirty meeting?”

You click your tongue. “Um, yeah.”

“Wonderful. Monday, one-thirty. Apologies for the weekend call, it’s for Mr. Leclerc.” The line buzzes dead after, and you flop backwards onto your bed, confused out of your mind.

Your job for Ferrari was simple—create social media content, do the occasional damage control, have a pre-interview discussion with journalists, and generally stay out of everyone’s hair. It’s not a high-maintenance job, but it pays well, and you get to travel; plus, you’re young, and you figure this is just a stepping stone for a more legitimate post. Your point is, you’ve never gotten into trouble before, and are only at meetings to take minutes or get assignments.

Which is why a Monday lunch meeting—on your vacation, nonetheless—seems so out of the ordinary. And arranged by a PR agent from Ferrari? Last you’d heard, cars were objects and didn’t need publicity. The whole affair gives off a vibe of semi-mystery, almost, like you’re in the MI6 and taking lucrative calls in alleyways. 

You feel through your bag for your hotel key card, wallet, and phone, and finding them all there, you leave and make your way to the restaurant. You’re not too nervous; you’ve had to have your own sit-down talks with higher-ups and even Charles or Carlos before, but none of the “you’re fired” variety. 

The restaurant isn’t far from where you’re staying, so you shove sunnies on and trek there, managing to make it inside unscathed.

Table 17, the text reads, and you’re quickly ushered into a private section of the place. It’s empty, save for a couple and a far-off table seating one guy, whose back is to you. You realize it’s Charles when you squint your eyes harder. The waitress doesn’t give you much of a choice and seats you across him, promising to return with noontime champagne.

You slide your sunglasses onto your hair and look up. “Hi,” you say politely.

“Hey,” Charles says back casually. He wears a Richard Mille and a few other bracelets, a linen blue polo, and jeans.

“New PR thing?”

Charles smiles, shrugging. “Man, I’ve no idea. Wake up on Saturday and I’m due for a meeting. Is this for social media?”

Huh, so he doesn’t know either. “I don’t know. It was a super random call for me, too.”

He shrugs. “Both clueless.”

“Right. So, to be clear, we’re waiting for—”

“I am so sorry I’m late,” a woman says sheepishly, her heels clicking along the tiled floor. She definitely looks the part for a PR officer: pantsuit, heels, a blond bob, ridiculously expensive handbag, eccentric sunglasses. “Scusami, really.” Her Italian apology has an American twang.

“All okay,” says Charles with a small smile. “We were barely waiting, no?”

You nod, offering a tight-lipped smile of your own. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

She slides into the seat beside him and waves a waiter over, ordering in quickfire English; clearly, she’s been here before. Absently, you wonder if her previous affairs in this restaurant were also to have clandestine meetings. Your reverie doesn’t last long, though, because immediately Jenna’s starting her agenda. “So, are introductions in order?”

“I, um,” you say, “I’d say so, yes.”

“Alright, spectacular. I’m Jenna Griffin, just moved to Monte Carlo after living and working in SoCal. I’ve been appointed as a PR manager for Charles here, but don’t worry. You’re in good hands. I’ve handled three Kardashians, two NBA players, two One Direction members, and a lot of nepo babies.” 

“Wow,” you say, nodding.

“Cool.” Charles says, clearly impressed.

Jenna’s gaze flits between the two of you, both smiling at each other. “Right,” she says. “Let’s get down to business.” She clears her throat and pulls out her phone from her handbag, scrolling for a few moments. While the silence settles, you steal another glance at Charles, and hide a chuckle when you find his eyes already glancing back at you.

“Aren’t we waiting for Carlos?” He asks, taking a sip of water. 

His PR agent looks up briefly, then answers. “Actually, it’s just you two today.”

You nod slowly, burrowing even further into the confusion you’d been feeling since Saturday. It wasn’t like you were expecting Carlos, per se, but a meeting with just you and him—now, that’s a bit strange.

“So, I know this is all very confusing. But it’s happening for a reason,” says Jenna. “Charles—and I really only feel qualified to say this because I’ve done my research—has been on a streak of…erm, well, lady-related scandals lately.”

“Oh, God,” Charles groans across you, and you chew your lip. You’ve seen the headlines, but you’re still clueless as to how this concerns you. 

“As a PR agent, I think it won’t do good for his public image to be seen as somebody who sleeps around.”

“It was two headlines,” Charles cuts in with a laugh. “And they were both fake. Please don’t misunderstand.”

Jenna clicks her tongue. “Yeah, the public definitely has some thoughts.” She turns to her phone and reads off of it. “‘Charles is a playboy and not a driver’, ‘Leclerc is too busy pulling girls’… times ten thousand. So, yeah, it’s a bit of a smear.”

“Right, okay. Listen, I’m not sure I understand,” you say with a stuffy laugh. “What has all this got to do with me?”

“Everything,” she answers with a smile. You raise a brow. “Well, you see, we PR managers always have a network. We keep tabs on who’s who, and who needs what. As a new manager, I need to implement some of my strategies around here. Go digging, you know? Find something good. And when I found your pretty little face in the background of many of Charles’ paddock photos, I realized you could help create something newsworthy.”

“Are you talking about a PR stunt?” You ask, your frown deepening. 

“Well—virtually, essentially, yes.” She opens her mouth to explain but is interrupted by the serving of champagne and appetizers. “Okay. Don’t think this is a haphazard decision. Naturally, we had to find out if this would even be a good idea…”

“Which it’s not,” you say, taking a swig of champagne.

She nods. “The thing is, your bosses and I really did go over several scenarios, and this one seems the most likely to keep your fans engaged. This way, the appearances won’t look so staged.”

“—Jenna,” Charles says, clearly having detected your hesitance, “I don’t think she’s interested.” 

“It’s fine,” you say, but you still sound off-put. It’s not fine, not really. “I don’t see how this is going to help Charles, though. I’d think the idea of him being committed to somebody would just further alienate his fangirls.”

Jenna chuckles. “While that is, to some extent, true, the number of fans who would go gaga over the two of you far, far outweighs the opposing population. This is a special case. A girl next door social media manager with a social media presence—and a wildly popular, totally charming Formula One driver? I mean, talk about Harry and Meghan! Everybody loves love. And, might I add, Charles’ male fans might actually like seeing you two together.”

You sigh, a quick huff of frustrated air. “So, what is this then?”

“It’s a proposition for the fans.” She smiles. “It’s a fake relationship.”

You reach for champagne, but find you’ve totally drained your glass. The room falls into muted silence, and you can’t bring yourself to look at Charles. You didn’t expect this on a Monday afternoon. You thought maybe it was a job termination. Or a leaked text message. Somehow, this is the strangest of all possibilities.

“So, good?” She chirps. “I’ll send you the primer.”

You both stare at each other. “We’re not actually going to. Right?”

“Right. We are not dating.”

—

“We’re dating!” You chirp, practicing your appearances in front of Carlos and Lando, who had visited the former.

“You two look like two people dating pretending to be friends,” Lando observes.

You grumble. Many of your shots had been staged pap photos outside his apartment, or fans happening to catch you two together; no official statement had been released, according to Jenna’s “masterplan.” For the most part, it was a good dynamic of putting up a façade for the public and settling back into a platonic relationship within minutes.

Nothing really goes wrong at first—and then Charles ruins it.

It happens after a Ferrari event in spring. You’re in Monza again, weather humid when you re-shoot the fifth TikTok for the day with Carlos. There are celebrities to and fro, even more journalists and a shitload of fans crowding the perimeter of the area. You’ve successfully pulled off the fake dating stunt, keeping a lowkey profile and doing your job.

There’s a green room for the drivers and close managers to wait and rest, where you stow yourself away to avoid the crowds. You review the reels and stories for the day, and cap it off with a “goodbye, Tifosi!” post with Carlos that’s enough to quell the many notifications.

Granted, many of the said notifications are of the speculative nature. Some are wondering if it’s you posting or if a new hire was underway to make room for the new couple. You ignore them anyway and take a seat on the couch across Carlos, sighing with exhaustion.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He teases.

“Ha-ha,” you say, unimpressed. You gesture to the TV behind him, showing a live feed of Charles’ last interview of the day with Natalie Pinkham. Once this is over, you’re free for the week: free of social media manager and fake girlfriend responsibilities. The thought alone makes you well up with relief.

You and Carlos both watch intently as Charles answers several event-related questions that, to your horror, simmer into personal ones. Natalie sounds excited when she goes, “Any plans for the week with a special someone?”

Charles has no thought behind his eyes, a muted wave of panic coming over him as he fumbles for a response. “My family’s staying up in Tuscany, in a farmhouse we own, stay in for spring and summer. We are actually visiting them for the week.”

We are actually visiting them for the week. Your look of pure, unadulterated shock doesn’t go unnoticed by Carlos, who’s quick to snap pictures of you on his phone. What the hell is Charles talking about? Tuscany? No, family? 

“I take it you didn’t know about this,” Carlos says with a laugh. 

“You think?!” You holler, still appalled. Charles has a lot of gall to spin this without your permission, or Jenna’s for that matter. You know she’ll love it, though; it’s really, mainly, you who has a problem with it. Anxious, you get up and watch the broadcast end; not a minute later, Charles enters and offers a can of sparkling water to you.

“Thirsty?” He asks casually.

“Very,” you pipe, taking a gulp.

“You’re welcome,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, thanks! I think I’ve been busy thinking about the fact that I’m meeting your family!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He yells, trying to match your agitated volume. “I didn’t know you were watchi—I was nervous! I didn’t know what to say anymore! And—you kno—well—and Natalie kept asking a ton of questions!”

Your face of disbelief matches his of sheepish apology, facing each other frozen. Across you, Carlos lets out an incredulous laugh, mumbles something about wanting popcorn. You honestly can’t blame him. Had you been an outsider, you would’ve relished in Charles’ slip-up, too. Instead, you’re the one who’s apparently going to Tuscany on Friday to meet the extended Leclerc clan.

“It’s fine. It’s gonna be”—you attempt to find an appropriate adjective—“bearable. At least we don’t need to keep up appearances there.”

You’re met with disagreeable silence. When Charles doesn’t chime in with an agreement, you turn slowly back to him. “No.”

“It’s only for a week—”

“No!”

“A week!” 

You’re both standing up, pacing around the other frantically. Pretending to suddenly be bumped up from social media manager to Charles’ girlfriend was a daunting enough proposition. Getting hate mail and death threats was enough incentive to let you want to leave. Timing exits and entrances was difficult. And now, pretending to be together in front of his family? His family. 

“Why can’t you just tell them we’re not actually dating?!”

“It’s just—it’s complicated having to explain why.” You remember his assortment of man-whore scandals and realization sinks into you. You sit on the arm of the couch, deflated and contemplative. Despite your own knowledge of the scandals being totally baseless and false, you understand it’s difficult to explain the lengths of tabloids and online rumors to older family members.

You might have to grin and bear it.

“Fine.” You digress. He cheers silently. “One week. Once our quickie breakup is finalized, you’re telling them it ended well. I don’t want to be in anybody’s bad graces.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Tuscany won’t be so bad, you think. What’s the worst that could happen?

—

Charles’ extended family greets you at their farmhouse when you arrive heaving two pieces of luggage. It’s populated by two aunts, three uncles, and two younger cousins, and their hospitality is contagious. They all somehow remind you of Charles, their faces, their laughs, their easy attitudes.

His aunts, Mia and Giulia, are the first to pull you in for a hug and inspect your face. Good eyebrows! Good lips! Healthy attractive child for you both!

You have to pry yourself off of them with giggles and smiles and pretend the kid comment was never uttered for your own sake. They’re kind, ushering you inside and serving dinner immediately, inquiring about the drive and if it was bad, if Charles had spotted any dead sheep or cattle on the way (none.)

His cousins are both little boys, eleven and six, shy and with thick accents. Charles’ smile is huge when he speaks to them in Italian, eyes comical and animated. His three uncles all eat fairly quietly, talking about politics, or racing, only when they feel like it. 

They ask many questions, and tell so many stories, over limoncello and rigatoni that leave you stuffed after two platefuls. You didn’t think you’d be satisfied so soon after the drive, but you’re grateful for it. His uncle Giorgio leads the tour of the house, his voice slow and constantly sliding into Italian, but Charles is quick to supply a translation into your ear. Lit by terrace lights, you get a night view of the house, surrounded by the hills, the lemon trees, and a swimming pool in the back. Further back, there are two horses for riding, and bicycles for easier transportation.

A vineyard borders the other side of the hill, owned by a different family. You can’t digest the beauty of this place, even without the sun to provide a better view. You’re back inside, being shown the rest of the wide dining room and kitchen that lead out onto a balcony-terrace area, and then clambering the stairs to be shown your room—a beautiful one on the second floor that overlooks the hills. 

“This is so beautiful,” you say honestly. “Thank you so much. And Charles will be staying…?”

“In my childhood bedroom!” He quips excitedly, already halfway out the door to review his living situation.

Giulia and Mia share a look and then the former goes, “Wait, Charles!”

He slows to a halt and turns, awaiting their words. “Ay. Bambino, because you have been in Monaco so long these days, and we have gotten a lot of stuff, your childhood bedroom is now more of a… storage room.”

“A storage room?!” He sounds scandalized.

“Bambino, mi dispiace,” she continues. “But—let’s not be conservative! You two have been dating now for a year, correct? Surely, you’ve slept in one bed.”

Your face grows warm. “Um, actu—”

“Shh,” Mia says kindly. “No need to make excuses. Charles, stay with your girlfriend. And we will wake you both for breakfast. Ciao!”

You barely voice your assent, managing to wedge in a thank you! before the door closes and leaves you and Charles alone. 

In a room without a single couch. The only non-bed “resting” space is a single chair, and as much as you want to, you don’t want Charles to break his spine trying to sleep on it. The situation is clear. You need to configure the bed.

“We cannot sleep on the same bed.”

“I’ll take the floor.”

“No! I mean—ugh. I don’t want to risk you pulling a muscle. Also, more importantly, if any of your family walks in and sees you sleeping on the floor, they’re going to think we’re freaks.”

“The bed is big enough for us both,” he says, gesticulating. You narrow your eyes. If you’re going to be avoiding physical contact, it definitely isn’t. It’s like the gods had decided to bless the room with a bed perfect for two people snuggling.

You place your hands on your hips, analyzing the best way to tackle the situation. You won’t lie, you’d thought about the possibility of sharing a room—but a bed was completely different. You’d expected a couch, a loveseat of some kind, both of which are woefully missing. Thinking fast, you take the three decorative, cylindrical pillows and place them vertically on the centre of the bed.

You step back. “Okay. That’s our boundary.”

Each side is a bit small, but it’s the price to pay, you think, taking a long look at your handiwork. Beside you, Charles snorts. “That is not going to work.”

“I’ll bet you it will,” you say matter-of-factly, retreating to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When you emerge, Charles is fast asleep, half his body on your side of the boundary. You have to pour water on his face to shoo him away, and that’s when you’re positive your creation will work.

You place yourself gingerly on your side of the border, remaining perfectly still as you drift off to sleep. You wake up the next day on Charles’ chest, pushing him away before admitting you’d been in that position in the first place. 

You slide him five euros over breakfast. 

—

Charles is a good driver, skier, and biker—you can attest to this from being by his side, reviewing pictures and videos of him for a living.

But there’s one thing he absolutely sucks at, and it’s teaching. You thought you’d never have to attest to this, but here you are, with scraped knees and a smudge of soil on the hem of your shorts, on your sixth attempt to learn how to ride a bike.

It’d been his idea, like many of the odd things you’d gotten yourself into. “Let me make up for dragging you along,” he’d said, and then proceeded to commit attempted murder every time he sent you away on the bicycle. Five tries did you no good; Charles’ directions contradicted each other and came much too fast, causing you to crash into the grass or skid yourself to a halt, your sneakers coated in a light layer of dust.

“Why are we still trying?” You ask woefully, examining the scratches on your calf. And to think you would’ve gotten to go truffle hunting with his uncle had Charles not swept you away to bike.

“It is an important life skill. Just—don’t look at the ground. Okay. Andiamo!” He sends you off again, watches as you twist and careen into a bush. Again. Your groan of pain matches the ooof he lets out, jogging to help you up. You turn away from the ground and toward his face. His laughing face.

“Ow. What?” You ask, raising a brow. You flex your fingers, waiting for him to pull you upwards. 

“You smashed into a bush and a berry’s all over your cheek.” He says, still laughing when he helps you up. You hold the tip of your pinky to your face, press down, and sure enough, when you inspect it again, it’s stained a dark berry color.

“Is this toxic?!” You ask, agitated.

“Che? Toxic? No, no. It’s a juniper berry.” He reaches over and swipes his thumb across your face, sending you into a frozen state. Your hands remain at your sides while he focuses on wiping the rest of the fruit off of your cheek, showing you his stained finger afterwards with a proud smile. “All gone.”

You turn and pick up the bicycle. “One more for good luck,” you say, shaking off the nerves and gut churning feeling deep in your stomach. You situate yourself atop the bike, trying to remember and re-remember all the tips Charles had given you. 

“Don’t look down, just breathe, keep your eyes trained straight. If you crash, on the grass always. Better than this path.”

“Got it,” you say breathlessly, determined. You take off, eyes trained on the landscape in front of you, leaving the house behind and gliding quickly downhill. It takes you a beat to realize, however, that you’re not falling. You’re doing it—properly. You turn to voice your pride, but that’s what gets you caught in your thoughts.

Charles is cheering behind you, but once he detects you’re stumbling, he runs the few metres over. Still, he can’t catch you fast enough; you do manage to turn right and land on the grass. In his own rush, Charles trips on the horizontal bike, and lands right beside you, atop your arm.

Eventually you’re both doubled over laughing, your fingers finding purchase on the blunt grass. You both only quiet down when you hear his aunt’s car, old and rickety, grow louder. You look up to find Giulia peeking out of the driver’s window, her face as amused as it is confused.

Beside her, Mia yells. “Buon lavoro, Charles!”

“What’d she say?” You ask, still half-laughing.

“Good job,” he replies, entertained. “She said good job.”

—

Charles takes Giorgio’s Vespa and rides you both to town two days later, even with the offer of a car. He claims the motor ride is the best way to experience Tuscany at its finest. Nothing about the two-seater bike on the pebbly road feels fine, though, and you’re seriously contemplating broken ribs when he makes a sharp turn. It’s only a ten, fifteen-minute ride, but the downhill slope makes it seem faster—and more dangerous.

Your grip on his waist had gone from loose and hesitant to tight and anxious, your voice a mantra of possible death in his ear. He can’t help but laugh, revving harder and chiming in with a biting remark of his own.

“You know who this is named after?” He shouts over the wind whipping both of you.

“Mmm?” You ask.

“Apollonia, from the Godfather.”

“Oh, Christ. The girl who died?”

“Hey, she was beautiful! My uncle loved the movies so much, his Vespa had to be named after her.” You lean onto his back for purchase, still unused to the speed at which he zips through the countryside. Eventually, after a few turns, the terrain turns from rough to smoother, and he parks at the busy-looking town square, populated by locals and tourists alike, but not with the traffic of more popular cities. Alleyways lead to smaller corner stores and cafés; a chapel overlooks the area, and a market populates the centre.

“What would you name your bike, if you had to?” You ask as a follow-up, removing your helmet and shaking your hair out. You pull at your dress to straighten it out.

“Well…” He takes both your helmets and stores them in the bike, leading the way toward the bustle. “My uncles, and my father—they always say we name our most precious things after beautiful women. Apollonia. My other uncle, Leo, he named his sailboat after his mother, Bianca. Even my dad would name few objects after my mother. It’s a way of honoring them, you know?”

You nod, stopping at a produce stall and examining a bunch of tomatoes. “I think that’s sweet.”

“Yes, so I guess… well, I don’t know, really. My mother’s name, maybe?”

“She’s got a beautiful one,” you comment offhandedly.

“Yeah. Or, if we go by appearances, I suppose your name.”

You ignore the flush of nerves that well up in you and turn back to face him, confused and amused. “My name? Why’s that?”

“I mean,” he coughs, crossing his arms and smiling, “people think we are together, so if I get a bike, and they ask for her name, I must say yours, no?”

“Only if you want to,” you chirp back, amused. What had possessed him to suddenly bring you into the discussion? Neither of you are pretending for all these strangers. Here in town, you’re friends again, browsing the market, walking around stalls, eating free samples of pesto and cheese.

“I do want to,” he says. It’s a joke, you’re sure. Half-sure. It’s a joke.

The town square’s noise begins to die when the sun sets. City-dwellers leave to take trips back to main hubs of Italy, and with no nightlife in the area, many in the square are families or couples sitting down for dinner. The ride back, while short, might be dangerous in the dark; you tug on Charles’ sleeve to relay your thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” he says dismissively. “I’ve biked here past midnight.”

“What were you even doing in town at midnight, hmm?” You tease lightly, following him around. There’s not much to do except eat at this point, judging by the way you’d both exhausted the stalls in the afternoon. He rolls his eyes, mumbling excuses. 

“You womanizer,” you whisper in an exaggerated scandalous tone. You poke his bicep. “Bedding the locals.”

“I was not, ay!” He defends. You’ve noticed his accent is so much thicker here, where he has to speak Italian all the time, except with you. It sounds nice. “I would come to smoke weed.”

That’s even funnier, you think, throwing your head back to laugh. Thoughts of teenaged Charles, tinged pink and tan from summer, on a momentary break from a junior racing career, biking fast back and forth—for a joint no less—are both funny and endearing. “That is so cute, Charles. Drug virgin.”

“Don’t speak of those when we’re in front of the house of the Lord,” he says sarcastically, gesturing to where your cyclical walking had landed you: back in front of the town’s chapel. There’s a pot of holy water by the front doors and a rack of candles for lighting and offering. Besides that, there’s a coin drop box being manned by a priest.

In silent agreement, you walk in sync to the candles, lighting one each and whispering brief intentions. You’re not religious, you’ve never been; a church seemed foreign to you, always. But you figure there’s no harm in a candle and an offer to the big guy, if he’s there.

There’s a mural painted by the doors, which you observe silently while Charles goes to drop donations into the box. You catch bits of their conversation. Good evening. Are you a tourist. No, we live up the hill, visiting for spring, yes. 

The rest you don’t catch, turning to Charles and watching him talk, animated as he is solemn. The priest smiles at you politely, turns to Charles, goes, “Siete qui insieme?” You rack your brain for the Italian you’d picked up recently but can’t match it to anything.

Charles nods. “Qui per cenare, ed esplorare.” Esplorare, explore? You fail again, but continue listening anyway, occupying your eyes with the mural.

“È la tua ragazza?” The priest asks with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, sì, sì.” Charles looks very sure of himself when he says so.

The priest nods once. “Se ti sposi, allora dovrebbe essere qui, no?”

Charles turns slowly, looks at you, then smiles. “Okay,” he says, still looking at you. “Farò in modo che accada.” Then they’re exchanging quick Italian goodbyes and he’s walking back to you, guiding you to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

“What was that about?” You ask, the curiosity getting the best of you. You don’t remember what they said, so you can’t plug it into Google Translate; your last hope is getting Charles to translate it for you. You figure it’s no problem. He’s always translated for you during your stay here so far, word-for-word recounts that have you feeling fluent in the language after decoding them. Whether it be a family anecdote or a market transaction, the language has never become an issue for you.

You walk beside him, awaiting the translation that never comes. Instead, he smiles, shakes his head, and says, “That was nothing.”

—

Your first, last, and only close call happens during a wine and poker night with Charles’ uncles and aunts. You’d spent the morning semi-cuddling (to beat the early a.m. cold, you both insisted), and then a majority of the afternoon in the nearby vineyard volunteering to help pick grapes, and they’d offered to let you wind down for the night inside.

It starts off well enough—you and Giorgio best the first two rounds, much to everyone else’s chagrin, and you rest on the sofa, reading Giulia’s cookbook with a glass of wine. At quarter to midnight, Charles’ six-year-old cousin, Marco, comes inside and slots himself beside Charles, eyes sleepy.

“Cugino,” he says. Cousin. His voice is squeaky and childish.

“Yes, Marco?” Charles asks, preoccupied with his cards.

“Put me to sleep,” he says in accented English.

“Later. You should wait.”

“Can she do it?” A chubby hand rises and points toward you. You offer a small wink, sipping wine.

“Only if she wants to,” Charles says, turning to face you. You chuckle.

“I’d be happy to, Marco.” You smile.

“Cugino.” Marco tugs on Charles’ sleeve to regain his attention. “What’s her favorite color?”

Oh, shit. Neither of you had really thought this would come up, so you hope Charles can fake it well. While you know everything about him, he knows not much about you, especially little niche facts like this one. Charles clears his throat and goes, “Blue.”

“Favorite song?”

“Uh. Marco, aspettare. OK?”

“Why should he wait?” Giorgio asks, gruff. “Your aunts and I are curious, too.”

Charles meets your eyes, and you try to signal for him to lie, which he ends up doing. “It’s Take a Chance on Me. ABBA, zio.”

You do know that song, but it’s definitely not your favorite. You close the cookbook and get up, pacing onto the seat beside Marco and leaning against it, smiling and nodding. Beside Giorgio, Mia asks sweetly, “Do you have any tattoos, dear?”

Just you, or are Italian aunts ridiculously straightforward? You open your mouth at the same time Charles does, and that’s what leads to your downfall. Yes, one, you say. No, none, Charles says at the same time. You both look at each other, eyes wide.

His uncle grunts. “Bambino, do you know nothing of this lovely girl?”

“You misunderstand,” Charles says. “I thought she wouldn’t want to share that yet, zio. I tried to cover for her, but, er—she seems okay with sharing it.”

It’s a flimsy excuse but it seems to work, and the poker game resumes without any more questions about you.

Still, you grow nervous, frustrated a bit, and, once you spot Marco asleep, you take him into your arms and mumble a polite goodnight, carrying him upstairs. The call was just too close. Why did Charles feel the need to interject like that? Had you been caught in such a lie, you’d need to reveal everything.

Something else tugs at your chest, but you refuse to admit it incites an unhappy feeling out of you. Charles’ lack of knowledge about you did nothing but remind you that in the end, he did know nothing about you, and this was just contractual and obligatory and for the press-turned-for the family. You pat Marco’s forehead, sighing. You shouldn’t be so upset, but you are.

You know a lot about Charles, but it’s a cold fact that he can’t say the same about you; at least, not to the extent that you know him. The doors and staircase creak, signifying the game’s end and everyone’s retreat to bed; you await Charles’ entrance, which comes after you hear him opening your room, finding it empty, and then—

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, hushed. You get up and walk past him, crossing the corridor and opening the door halfway into your room. 

He says, then: “You really never tell me anything about yourself.” 

You freeze, turn, suddenly frustrated all over again. Suddenly sad. “Yeah. You really know nothing about me.” It’s exaggerated, so it cuts deeper.

He’s upset, you realize. “Do I have to beg for these sorts of basic facts? I wa—I…” He pauses. “I want to know you more. I’ve always wanted to.”

“You didn’t even think to—to ask me the most basic questions before we got here.” You’re aware he didn’t owe you this, but your irritance doesn’t quell. “My favorite song, my favorite movie, color, anything. I could name all that on your behalf.”

“Every time I ask, you deflect. You never told me, either,” he says defiantly.

You scoff and ponder for a minute before shaking your head and clambering down the steps. You need some fresh air, having gotten mad so quickly. You know it makes no sense—he never needed to ask about you. Prior to last week, you worked with him. Still, everything’s changed now, and it feels hurtful knowing he can’t name these things about you.

You take a seat on the terrace chair, pretend not to notice when he sits beside you, separated by a table.

You hug your arms closer to yourself, sigh. “It’s, a koi fish on my hipbone. Hurt like a bitch.”

He looks at you, curious. You continue.

“My high school superlative was ‘most likely to be elected president’—embarrassing, I know. I won the local spelling bee. Thrice in a row. I love the color green, and the movie Fantastic Mr. Fox.”

You pretend you’re not feeling anxious from the sudden sharing, clearing your throat and keeping your gaze trained on the landscape of houses and hills around you.

“I love crosswords to a worrying degree, I’m a dog person but have never owned one, and my favorite song is Don’t Go Breaking My Heart. I kill it on karaoke.” Finally, your eyes slide slowly over to look at Charles. He’s already looking at you, smile soft on his flushed, pink face.

“I didn’t think of you as much of a singer,” he says, eyes crinkling from the size of his smile.

Huffing and stifling a laugh, you cross your arms defiantly over your torso. Your lips melt into a pout, and you flip him off in an attempt to stave him off. He just laughs harder, gulping the rest of his wine with ease.

“To be fair, I think I dance better,” you respond proudly. “It’s still bad, but it’s better. Better than you, anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asks, mouth half-open, still caught in a laugh. “Wow. Okay, d’accord. It’s on.”

“It is most certainly not a challenge, Charles!” You object frustratedly.

“Challenge accepted!”

Against your vocal protests, he gets up from his chair and reenters the house, exiting with his phone in one hand and the rest of the wine in the other. He browses his selection of songs, humming until he seems satisfied with one of them. He pours you both a glass of preparatory red, a grin lighting up his face. 

You burrow into the chair, unrelenting when he stretches out a hand to invite you to dance. You only end up giving in when you’ve successfully finished your wine, getting up and straightening out the wrinkles in your dress.

Your hand is still loosely clutched around his when he plays the Bee Gees song he’d queued up, and then both of you start dancing.

It’s a bit fast-paced, but you catch up well, letting yourself move fluidly to the song. All the while, your hand remains looped around his, like an anchor, a saving point. You shut your eyes to immerse yourself in the song, a smile on your face. When you crack them open, you watch Charles dance goofily, with moves you’d be totally embarrassed by otherwise. This time, you’re strangely endeared.

Where you expected yourself—the both of you, really—to be stiff and awkward, you’re both loose and easygoing, chuckling and laughing as the song progresses. Your dress swishes by your knees softly when you move, letting go of his hand momentarily. It flexes with the feeling of his absence. Charles dances like he has no care in the world, with movements that would rival a fifty-year-old’s. You find that you don’t have a care in the world either, watching him with a stupid grin on your features.

Your heart swells and seizes, and you swallow, not wanting to realize why yet. He reaches for your hand again, seeks it in the evening light. You give it to him easily, cut his search short. You’re what he looks for.

He lifts your linked hands right as the song starts its ending, and you realize you’re supposed to twirl around them. With a laugh, you follow, letting your arms stretch out when you’re done. He pulls you back, with strength that sends you barreling into his chest. “Dude,” you mumble, giggling. “Charles, you ruined my flow.”

You both part, but barely; your hands are still clasped, your distance barely increased. You stare up at him when the next song clicks on.

It’s slower this time, a song you recognize from films and novels. You remember this specific rendition from two years ago in Silverstone, when Charles had shared over a meeting that he’d been busy teaching himself the piano—specifically, The Way You Look Tonight.

The song continues, your hands still together, your eyes boring into his. The moon makes his light eyes a different shade, all green and soft edges rivaling the intensity of his stare. “Come on,” he says. “Why stop, no?”

He raises your hands, guides his vacant one to wrap around your waist. It’s warm there, secure, belonging. With all the hesitance in the world, you wrap a hand around his upper arm. Your gaze is unbreaking.

“Thank you,” he says, steering you both into a slow, easy rhythm. The nerves melt away slowly when you continue to sway. You cock a head to the side in a silent request for elaboration.

“For sharing.”

“Oh. It was only right,” you reply. “Considering you know nothing niche about me.”

“Tell me…” He starts, but the words tangle in his throat, lodge themselves there in a fit of nerves. He breathes, breaks the gaze. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind… if you told me more.”

A brief shine of surprise passes through your eyes, and you nod. “Alright.”

“Alright.” He smiles. 

“Do you think, ” you say, swallowing the sorrow, “we’ll need to keep doing this when the week is ov—?”

“Let’s not dwell on that,” he says quickly. He sounds—sad, almost, at the thought of this being fake. In the days spent here, picking grapes, drinking wine, going on bike rides and practicing Italian, it was easy to let the lines blur. Perhaps he’d forgotten.

You realize, when he leans forward and slots his chin atop your head: you’d forgotten, too.

—

Despite the tension, the next day goes fairly normal, and Charles takes you to town on Apollonia late at night. The Tuscan air is crisp and clean when he parks by a pub, loud not with techno music or hip-hop, but Italians singing. Inside, it’s not so crowded, populated by regulars, few tourists, and several older people.

Charles orders himself a beer, and a cocktail for you after you request something sweet. The bartender gives you an extra one on the house, and you and Charles seat yourself in front, watching people sing on the stage.

“Vi piace cantare?” Someone asks, and Charles quickly supplies: he’s asking if we like to sing.

You wave your palm back and forth. So-so, you signal. Charles, of course, ever the social butterfly, slides into a natural conversation with him, about Italy, pubs, beer, and singing. The guy introduces himself as Antonio, owner of said pub and a man who is apparently more than happy to clear the queue of singers for you two.

“Wait, seriously?” You ask. Antonio nods, clapping Charles on the back. You’d have thought they’d been friends for years or something.

You immediately turn down the request, but Charles scrambles onstage, having downed two bottles of beer. You’re overcome with horror as you watch him walk across the small stage to the side of it to request a song, encouraging whoops from the crowd.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, no. This is not a good idea,” you say, gulping. “Plus, I’ve had a lot to drink. Your aperol spritzes have so much alcohol in them.”

Beside you, Antonio laughs. “Non si preoccupi—do not worry. He seems to be a confident guy. You’re in good hands.”

“Am I? He didn’t even ask if I wanted to sing. I don’t even know what to sing.” You watch him whisper a song to the guy in charge of the pub’s ancient karaoke system, half-sure that the song archive stops after 1990. The stage creaks when Charles reaches for another mic and then stretches his arm out to offer it to you.

You muster your best angry face, but he just laughs. “Come on. You will like it.”

Gulping the rest of your cocktail, you accept the mic, and then his hand, strong in yours as he helps you climb onstage. The crowd of locals and few tourists cheer for the both of you, and you don’t do much to hide your stage fright; even the buzz of alcohol can’t help you. You hope (and know, deep down) that Charles will.

“Buona sera a tutti,” Charles says, met with more raucous cheering. “Io e il mio amico cateremo per te stasera.” He bows, and you follow a bit stiffly, not knowing what he’s saying.

“Amico?” Someone jeers from the audience. “O fidanzata?!”

Charles laughs, and you know he’s truly entertained because his eyes crinkle the way they do. You fiddle with your dress, your hair, anything to channel the nerves. He waves the crowd off with a shush motion and then turns, gestures for the song to start. He catches your eye, anxious, quells your nerves by taking your hand and squeezing it. Don’t worry, he mouths. I’m here.

You identify the song before two seconds of it even play, and the realization is breathtaking: your favorite. You shut your eyes and let a huge smile come onto your face, laughing. You almost can’t believe him for this.

He starts off the song, taking your hand and leading you into a dance. Don’t go breaking my heart.

You twirl around him, exaggerating your movements and smiling. I couldn’t if I tried.

Somehow, you find dexterity, flow in the movements, the words. Maybe because you love the song so much. Charles matches your enthusiasm, singing loudly and exaggerating his accent to incite laughs from the onlookers. When he speeds up, so do you, allowing both of you to join in an upbeat rhythm that leaves you panting.

Ooh-hoo, nobody knows it, you both sing, laughing and shimmying toward each other. You both point and laugh, joining hands again when the chorus ends to sing your lines all over again. Charles always leads you well, alert as he is excited, letting you melt into him, adapt to the dance. You feel like you’re floating. 

Don’t go breaking my heart, he sings. 

I won’t go breaking your heart, you sing back, ducking underneath your hands, laughing.

The tension, warmth, spark between you grow as the song begins to close, your words breathless, faces flushed with alcohol and semi-exhaustion. Even if your face seems to show it, though, you find you’re not tired at all, smiling as your heart beats faster. You pull away, dancing to the last bits of the song, having let go of all your worries, nerves. Why were you ever nervous? You always trusted him.

The song fades to an end when you pull together, faces as close as they’d ever been. You’re both breathing heavy with the intensity of your dance, smiling. You shut your eyes, laugh, with the ecstasy of this moment. From the crowd, the bartender yells: “Ora bacia! Kiss!”

Both you and Charles turn to the crowd, who quickly cheer him on, and laugh. But they’re not kidding, you realize—they’re all yelling kiss in unison, intermittent whoops and cheers joining the chant. It’s like a rural Italian version of an MLB kiss cam.

You turn back to Charles, who’s looking at you already. His eyes dart to your lips. You’d never done it before—appearances never went that far—but the crowd is unrelenting, and you nod back when he cocks his head to the side in silent question. Like always, you’re nervous. And again, like always, he helps you through it.

Warmth blossoms through your chest when he leans in and presses your lips together.

That would’ve been enough to satisfy the crowd, you think, but neither of you pull away. Sparks ignite your stomach, your hands looping around his neck, his around your waist. You kiss him back effortlessly, like you’d done this a million times before. You feel him smile against your own smile, laugh when you laugh. 

The kiss is nothing if not dizzying, the perfect kind, the kind of the fairytale variety. His lips are soft, a bit chapped, against yours; when your tongues meet, they taste like aperol spritz and beer. Your hands tighten around his neck, like you need him still against you, when you both pull away for air. The crowd cheers.

You barely even hear them, staring into his eyes. 

—

The night becomes cloudy, raining softly over the hills when everybody’s done singing; Charles boards Apollonia and like always, you wrap your hands around him, leaning against his back. You’re a bit tipsy, but above all, you’re utterly conflicted with how everything’s seemed to turn in on itself within the last few days.

The rain only grows as Charles revs harder, and the Vespa skids to a screeching, horrible stop. Thankfully, you’re not far from the farmhouse, so you don’t walk much; still, both of you are drenched, Charles’ arms stained with motor oil that drips off with the force of the rain. He stows away the bike, turns back to you. You’re looking at him expectantly.

“What is this?” You demand, raising your voice.

“Rain,” he replies blankly.

“This.” You wag a finger in between you both. “We kissed in Antonio’s pub, Charles. And we might—we might tell ourselves it was because of the crowd’s pressure, but we know. We both know that kiss was for nobody but us.”

He wipes a hand over his face. “What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, sighing. Your hair is dripping with rain. “I really don’t.”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he says. And he pauses, like he always does when he’s unsure, nervous, bumbling, and then blurts it out. “You—I want you. I was a fool to realize it late. But years of being with you, around you… I should’ve known earlier, I—”

“Charles,” you cut in, not expecting the sudden rawness. “No, no.”

“You’ve got to realize,” he says desperately. “I do. I constantly think of you, feel for you, look for you, look at you. I’ve known you for so long, I always end up liking you all over again. Everything comes back to you. Seeing you here, a place I love—seeing you love it here—listening to you sing, dancing with you—don’t you—haven’t you gotten it yet—?”

You stare at him. 

You’re faraway, on the clouds, dry from the rain, when he says it. I love you.

—

The morning after is quiet, muted. You drown in your own overbearing thoughts.

“Got a lot on your mind?” You emerge from them quick, eyes darting over to Charles’ two aunts leaning by the doorframe of the dining room. You offer a polite smile, hoping it hides the conflict in the recesses of your mind.

“A bit,” you reply. 

“Come join us,” Mia offers. “We will pick lemons outside. For lunch.”

You take a basket from the entryway and follow them through the front door and onto the yard, matching their slow pace, relishing in the morning sun that hasn’t yet grown too hot.

Tuscany is beautiful. Despite your best efforts, you’d grown to love it here over the course of the week. The hilly terrain, the fruit, the constant goat sightings, the bike rides to town where you clutch Charles’ shirt out of fear you might fall off. 

They seem to spot good lemons within milliseconds, balding the branches in minutes. Perhaps because of your own cloudy thoughts, or maybe their breakneck speed, you fail to catch up, and they notice.

Mia again brings you out of your thoughts, guiding you three to the next tree. “Are you upset, bambina? Is Charles being a pest?”

“Oh, God, no,” you say with a laugh. “We—he’s a great tour guide. I never explored Italy before, and it’s beautiful here. He bikes me to town, because I can’t, uh, ride, unfortunately. He transacts for me, because my Italian is hopeless. He buys wine and cheese and lets me pet sheep when we bike past them on the hills.”

“Bambini innamorati.” Mia sighs fondly. “What is it you like about Charles?”

You hum, thinking. There are lots of things you like about Charles, but surely his family share the same sentiments. What’s unique? What about him is just yours? “His humor, I suppose,” you say. “He finds the fun in everything, even in competition, in boredom. Everywhere else, his good traits—everyone knows them. A stellar driver, charming, kind. Good-looking. But his humor, I think… I think he reserves his weirdest jokes, his best laughs, for the best people in his life. I’m just glad I’m there.”

Giulia is the next to speak, slow and encouraging, prompting you with a question you’d once dreaded but now feel excitement to hear: “Tell me again, how you and Charles met?”

It’s a rehearsed story, with bits of lies that you and Charles had to insert to make it appear more romantic and less coworker-esque. But you’d only told the short version before. To some journalists, to his cousin. You figure you’ll lie less and tell a more unabridged version. “Oh, okay,” you say, nervous and collecting your thoughts. 

“I work with Charles. I was spending time with him a lot, so naturally, we became somewhat friends. Not very close, but comfortable enough. I had to take pictures and videos for him and his teammate, so we really were together a lot. I suppose that’s how we met. How we became… something more, is a totally different story. I think the best thing about it was that neither of us were looking for it.”

You breathe, pausing. “It simply happened—despite both of us not expecting, not needing a relationship, it happened anyway. Almost funny, how young people like myself look for the moment of love at first sight. The staggering moment of eye contact and realizing you’ve met your soulmate. But—it wasn’t like that for me. It happened slowly, like I had to dissect what I felt. Like my heart had always known, so I had to catch up with myself and realize I…”

You pause. You really aren’t lying. “…I’m in love with him.”

Giulia and Mia exchange a knowing look over the branches.

—

“So, are you dating?” Natalie asks. It’s the first race of the season, and everyone’s excited—but this interview moves slowly, Charles dictating the flow of it himself. He smiles.

“Yes, we are.”

“Well, there’d been rumors a few months ago that this was a PR stunt, calculated by your new officer, Jenna Griffin. So, tell me again, are you dating? For real?”

Charles seeks you in the crowd of the meet-and-greet fans, finds you in the front row. You roll your eyes when he smiles fondly at you. A Tuscany trip and several months later, he thinks, has changed everything.

For the better. “For real.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader

[mactiir]

ranking baldur's gate characters by how i think they smell

#9) Minthara. Because she’s a corpse, next question.

#8) Lae'zel. You know this woman has never bathed. Washing is for the weak, is'tik. She says this is because needs her musk to attract mates but mostly it's cuz Gith education doesn't exactly make time for personal hygiene. Once it got so bad that Tav dragged the whole party through a chest-deep stream and stood there for 20 minutes to take a "breather" while Laezel stared daggers at them the whole time.

#7) Karlach. I want Karlach to smell nice so badly, and Karlach probably wants Karlach to smell nice too, but you know this woman smells like brimstone and engine exhaust and sweat. On good days she smells like the fine char you get on burgers on a summer day. On bad days she smells like a truck stop at peak hours, and the truck stop is also on fire. She's not happy about this either.

#6) Gale. Gale tries to keep himself groomed, he really does. But he looks like he is perpetually just a tiny bit smelly. Like he hyperfocused on a book slightly too hard for slightly too long and as a result he forgot to shower for a week. He acts like he bedded Mystra because of his towering intellect but really it's cuz gods don't have human senses of smell. His nightshirt looks velvet, too, and you KNOW it can't be easy to get smells out of that shit without a washer. He is one of those poor guys who is cursed to always stink a little bit no matter how much he showers. When Tav confronts him about this he decides, on the spot, that deodorant is for anti-intellectuals, actually, which he wouldn't have expected Tav to know but it's okay, we can't all be enlightened.

#5) Minsc. He doesn't reek exactly, but you know he's 100% man musk, hamster bedding, and butt-kicking

Tied for #5) Jaheira. You know 100 years of living in forests and adventuring with Minsc has endowed her with exactly the same level of manly perfume as Minsc (except with notes of cedarwood).

#4) Wyll. He used to be the best-smelling until Mizora pulled him through every level of hell in rapid succession, and now he smells a little bit like brimstone all the time. He sometimes rubs fragrant herbs on his horns to counteract it, which doesn't get rid of the smell, really, but it gives his smell an interesting dimension. Otherwise, he has enough experience with adventuring, and is well-bred enough, that him and his things are usually well-groomed (and also because his dad was a freak about it).

#3) Shadowheart. This woman puts on tragic makeup every morning and changes her hair to reflect her religion. Appearances are EVERYTHING (especially when it comes to keeping secrets). Shadowheart smells exactly like she thinks she needs to smell to be religiously pleasing to her goddess and/or coMplEtE thE mIsSioN. She does get anxious sweats though, which are very distinctive if it's been a long day of adventuring. She never admits this, though. Ever.

#2) Astarion. Okay, so, sometimes, he smells just the teensiest, tiniest bit like dried blood. But mostly, he smells like baby powder and potpourri. It is a waste of good fashion sense and his pretty face to go about stinking like a beggar. (He does go through a brief 'Cazador can't tell ME what to do' phase where he stops bathing for a day, but he grosses himself out so much that he resumes his normal routime before anyone notices.)

#1) Halsin. You'd expect him to stink, with his whole smelly-hippy free-love vibe, but nah. The man smells heavenly. He spends all his time frolicking through fragrant herbs and lounging in scented hot springs with whomever strikes his fancy. He probably has a whole ass medicine cabinet full of stuff he uses to freshen up. His breath probably smells like mint and his hair like cedar. He probably puts coconut oil or smth in his hair. He knows how to smell good as literally any animal in the realms. Wanna know why? Dogs have a sense of smell several thousand times better than people. I bet bears do, too. You do Not Fuck As A Bear without understanding not only how to WASH your ass, but also perfume it. Halsin also knows: thou shalt not give yeast infections. And if you got bear dick, that means HYGIENE. It's a point of pride for him, actually.

BONUS: WITHERS. Withers smells like nothing. Like, freakishly, unsettlingly like nothing. Like, you expect him to smell like dust or pitch or smth. Nope. He's a black hole of smell. You come near him and if you ask, he resets your entire hygiene routine for 100 gold and leaves you smelling like roses.

#Baldurs gate 3 #Bg3 #Baldurs gate #Lae'zel #Karlach #Shadowheart #Halsin #Wyll #Gale #Astarion #bg3 spoilers #bg3 memes #bg3 minsc #jaheira

[ashipiko]

WHATS THIS? ASHI HAS APPEARED W A NEW TWST OC? CRAZY!!!!! <3 introducing niko cimarron!!!

FEEL FREE TO COME INTO MY INBOX AND TALK ABOUT HIM BTW IT WOULD SOOO HELP ME DEVELOP HIM 🫶

“What’s it now, Carrots? Got yourself in another mess?”

INFO UNDER CUT!

• HE KINDA??? IS MAGICLESS? while in NRC. THE MAGIC SCHOOL.

• 😭😭 you may be wondering how exactly. he doesn’t know either. I FEEL LIKE MIRACULOUSLY HE DID IT AS A JOKE AND SOMEHOW GOT INTO NRC????? as for the entrance ceremony IM STILL WORKING ON IT but magicless fox boy. OK

• <3 scarabia 2nd year!! he vibe checked himself and was like “yk what this one is convincing enough” and here we are

• he doesn’t necessarily LIE despite people sayin that he does all the time 🤔🤔 more so that he’s really good w his words and he just kinda dodges questions in a creative way 🫶 does this sound familiar

• rumor has it he’s made out w azul once and no one knows if it’s actually true or not </3

• everytime he sells his little “pawpsicles” outside of montro lounge (like RIGHT outside) and Azul tries to kick him out he pulls the “oh I GET IT you’re just salty I’ve moved on aren’t you” and suddenly it’s like no one believes Azul 😭😭 ITS KINDA FUNNY

• the tweels LOVE him because of how entertaining he is espec w azul!!! THEY SUPPORT NIKO WRONGS!!!!

• best friend is crowley FR I feel like azul’s TRIED to talk to him about niko but he’s just “a student trying to make a profit. much like you, ashengrotto!” so it doesn’t work. AZUL OUT HERE STRUGGLING

• as for relations w the prefect I FEEL LIKE THEYD BE A LOT LIKE NICK AND JUDY. considering the fact that’s he’s also a magicless student in a magic school I can see a small scene where it’s like “you’re not alone, all right? hey— that doesn’t mean you can run off telling everyone, carrots.” BUUUT. he kinda has issues

• trying to keep up the act of him seemingly having magic because he doesn’t want to be exposed as a phony at NRC……. he doesn’t wanna give into that fox/playboy stereotype and now he’s kinda in this big mess of a lie that he can’t get himself outta 😔 so I imagine telling the prefect is a whole big thing with vulnerability

• he doesn’t care too much about the other guys at nrc but w the prefect who’s given him a chance to be smth more than just a flirt or playboy or scammer he’s kinda scared to tell them he’s been lying to their face this whole time. YK? HES JJST A LITTLE GUY!!!! 🫶 he’s attached to the prefect whether he’d admit it or not <3

• DID I MENTION HE KINDA HAS A PLAYBOY PERSONA?

• ALSO W CALLING THE PREFECT “CARROTS” I can imagine a scene at lunch where he meets the prefect and he’s like “oh you must really like carrots, huh? there’s a bunch on your plate” and yuu gets the decision of either “no, I hate carrots” or “yes, I love carrots!” and either way he goes “huh. well, carrots is your name now~”

#a widdle guy!!! #been holding off this idea for like since twst dropped #but it was only a matter of time till I twisted my fave disney chara…… #COME INTERACT W HIM AND DROP ASKS ABOUT HIM PSPSPSPS #niko cimarron #ashi’s ocs ♡ #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland original character #twst grim #grim twst #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #ashipiko draws ♪

[neopuppy]

Jaemin would love a good gloryhole, he gives me crazy psychotic vibes

warning. ntm yet.. a smidge of fondling

“You’re going to work? This late?” Jaemin mumbles, pinching between his eyebrows where he’s sat with his face buried in a pile of books. “Who clocks in at midnight?”

“It’s an overnight job..” you shrug, tightening your coat. “That job fair I went to last week.. it was the only position that wouldn’t interfere with my class schedule.”

Jaemin sighs, leaning back against his computer chair until it creaks beneath his weight. “How are you going to keep up with your assignments?”

“That’s the thing,” clearing your throat nervously, you reply quickly, eager to end this conversation as you appear distracted patting your pockets for the house keys. “Factory prefers college students, don’t want to provide benefits or full-time positions, so the shifts are short, no more than 4 or 6 hours.”

“Oh..” Jaemin stands, stretching out his arms above his head as he approaches you. “I could drive you.”

“No!” You say abruptly, breaking into a smile at the sight of his face falling. “You already do enough for me, and I know you’re cramming for that big test.”

Jaemin waves it off, leaning near the door frame. “It’s not a big deal, I know the couch isn’t comfortable.”

On command at the mere mention of your makeshift bed your back aches, stretching to the side to relieve the pain and releasing a loud crack as you sport half a smile. “It’s not exactly a cloud but..”

“Better than the backseat of your best friend's car.” Jaemin adds, scratching his nape. “I hope at least..”

“Definitely,” you chime, setting your hand on the door handle. “Besides, this is only temporary.”

That’s what you have to remind yourself of daily, that this is just for now. A transition time you’ll forget about as soon as you’ve collected a month's pay. A draining and exhausting effort on your part, but the money..

“Seriously though, if you’re too tired for the walk back, I’ll leave my ringer on.” Jaemin’s hand lays over yours, gently squeezing. “Don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Of course, thanks Jaem.”

“Let’s not sit where she sleeps.”

“I mean..” Jeno scoffs, folding his knees to sit on the floor with his back against the couch. “It is a place to sit, you know.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“I’m not.” Unlocking his phone, Jeno settles comfortably, head resting against the couch cushion you rest your head on every night. “You say that like I don’t offer her my bed all the time.”

“Which I’m sure she’d take you up on if you know—“ plopping down by his friend's side shoulder to shoulder, he raises an eyebrow. “You were not also in said bed naked from the waist down.”

Jeno shrugs, passing his phone to Jaemin. “Still beats a couch.”

“What’s this?”

“Something new and exciting that we should try.” Jeno explains, leaning in to scroll down the message board. “Know anything about gloryholes?”

Jaemin nearly chokes on his spit, eyes widening as he reads through the various comments describing the experience. “The fuck are you talking about..”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Jeno grins, reaching to jingle the keys in his pocket. “You down or what?”

“I dunno man..”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Sharing a curious look, Jeno raises his eyebrows up and down, pushing up from the floor to stand and extend his hand. “Just between us.”

“I don’t understand the point in paying for a quick fuck..” Jaemin says, disgruntled by the lists of prices before him. The trek to find this place was bad enough to begin with, and on tip of that $500 to get his dick wet? By a stranger no less?

“Two for one deal though.” Jeno notes, tapping the larger font with the price of $800 blown out beneath. “Hear me out, send me $250 and I’ll cover the rest.”

“W-what?” Jaemin stutters, surprised at how nonchalant his friend is about this whole situation. “Are you seriously down this bad?”

Jeno scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like that.” Counting out a wad of bills, he slides them beneath the black tinted window, specifying the two for one deal for them. “Don’t knock it until you try it alright?”

Bending lower near the opening he slid the money through, Jeno whispers. “Number 7 available?”

“You’ve..” Jaemin follows after him, pieces falling together as his friends leads the way through a long hall without question. “You do this a lot or something?”

“Define a lot.” He says, peering over his shoulder with a sleek smirk. “A couple of times.. nothing crazy yet. At least you have me here to make sure your first time is memorable.”

Jeno comes to a stop, dangling a key that’d been tucked between his palm. “Lucky number 7.” He nods to the rooms door, an ominous carved out text painted black glares back at him.

The door lock clicks, pushed open slowly as his friend steps aside for him to head in first. It’s empty for the most part. A few items stacked along a shelf, condoms, lube, sex toys. “Behind that.”

Jeno locks the door shut behind them, motioning toward a hung up drape obscuring the rest of the room. “Would you prefer to go alone? I’ll even let you have dibs since it’s your first visit.”

Jaemin dry swallows, swiping his tongue across his suddenly dry lips. “And do what?”

Jeno’s lips draw back in a cocky smile, shushing his friend as he nudges him forward. “One way to find out.”

Jaemin’s chest thumps, gulping down the invisible weight pressed against the back of his tongue. Slowly he steps forward, barely grazing the drape with his fingertips, the sight of his trembling hand solidifies the nerves shooting throughout his chest, nudged forward softly again as he steps a foot inside past the drape.

“Shit..” he mutters, biting down on his lip to hold back a groan. Three different holes line up the walls leaving his mind to race with nothing but depraved thoughts.

“Pick one.” You say quietly, barely echoed from behind the wall that hides you.

Jaemin’s neck stiffens, toeing his way closer past the smallest of the holes that meets him at hip level. The arrows above directing him where to insert himself.

“Seven.” Jeno speaks up from the drapes opening, closing it shut to lean against the wall. “This is my best friend, he’s a first timer.”

Jaemin’s eyes enlarge, tracing around the top of the largest entrance that can only be for one thing..

“Let him get a taste of what we paid for.”

Jeno moves to stand behind him, chest pressed to his friend's back. “Jesus man, don’t be nervous.” He grins, cupping under Jaemin’s elbow to direct his hand inside past the opening.

“Nothing to be scared of, especially not you.” He whispers, chin hooked on the largers shoulder, breathily laughing when his friend lets out a shocked gasp.

“Fuck.” Jaemin sucks in a breath, digits sliding between a soft warmth. The heat building in his chest erupts upon contact, lodging himself forward with his chest pressed to the wall as his fingers spread and he glides deeper between the familiar wrap of velvety inner thighs around his wrist. “Holy shit.”

“You wanna fuck that slut, right?” Jeno eggs on, patting his hip. “Get her nice and wet for us.”

#asks #nct hard hours #nct smut #nct dream hard hours #jaemin hard hours

[jupipedia]

tia tia tiaaaaa, I have a request <333

okay so, how would the jjk men react to their fav sneaky link cutting them off ? like all of a sudden the reader ghosted them after their recent hookup ? preferably with gojo, choso, toji, and geto ? if you wanna change it it’s fine

giving the vibe of homiesexual by daniel cesar, idk if you heard it but yeah. listen if you haven’t, it’s a banger 🫵🏽

sneaky link privileges revoked ! — multi.         ↳ how these men would react to being ghosted or dropped by their sneaky link.           ↳ content warnings : nsfw ( minors do not interact ), mentions of cunnilingus + p in v.         ↳ message from tia : hey twin, hope you don't mind that i just turned this is to a multi animanga headcanon! this isn't out right smut but it does have nsfw mentions that i would consider further than just suggestive. might add more character or something later but yeah hope you enjoy!

he’s losing his fucking mind when he realized that his text messages are now green. he’s gonna find every means to contact your ass. you think he’s gonna let his favorite throat goat up and leave without a fight? he’s not going for that. he’s gonna call whoever he has to in order to speak to you. your friends, roommates, siblings, boss, co-workers, neighbors, even your mailman if that’s what it takes to get through to you. he just had you teary-eyed with no voice as he fucked the life out of you last night and all of a sudden he’s blocked? he’s lowkey crazy too because his ass is showing up wherever he knows you will be. he is at your job, sitting at your desk as he waits for you to come in. in that moment, he's never been more grateful for your private office as he has you bent over your desk, fucking you on all your important paperwork. he's even at the bars you and your friends go to for a night out and gets you alone in the bathroom, tongue deep in your pussy as you grip his hard and press yourself against the wall of the stall. good luck getting rid of him.

             — GOJO, connie, rengoku, sanji, SANZU, bokuto, sanemi, rindou, EREN, hawks, mikey, atsumu, etc.

he laughed when you told him to lose your number because he thought it was a joke. he knew it was in fact a joke because he was gonna be right back at your place, breaking your back and eating your pussy like it’s his last meal. you are not going anywhere like it’s funny that you even thought you could. he doesn’t care if you’re not ( officially ) his girl, you’re not leaving him. and every time you bring it up, he nods and chuckles before fucking sense in and out of you. after the third time of trying to end your arrangement with him, you gave up, knowing that with one move, you’d be falling back into his arms and onto his dick. he doesn't even blame you for wanting to end thing because he knows he's not shit, but that doesn't mean it's gonna happen. not when your sweet cunt wraps around his cock like a dream. not when the sound of your moans and his name rolling off of your tongue is newfound favorite melody.

             — TOJI, kid, JEAN, aizawa, geto, draken, wakasa, kuroo, osamu, zoro, shanks, benimaru, zeke, etc.

after you told him that you didn’t want to keep being friends with benefits, he respected it outwardly. however, when you pulled the whole “we can still be friends” bit on him, he completely used it to his advantage. he would “conveniently” appear whenever another guy was trying to get at you. he shows up to all of your events, suddenly becoming your biggest supporter. he’s always been around but suddenly it’s like he’s everywhere that you are. he’s so involved with you that it’s almost as if you two never ended anything. and then suddenly you’re back in his bed, legs pulled to your chest as he presses against your cervix. sex with him was already great, but it's like he stepped his game to prove that only he could pleasure you. he's completely focused on you and your pleasure, fucking you in every position possible until the sun rises and you decided to let him back into you sex life.

            — choso, NANAMI, reiner, armin, daichi, onyankopon, law, aran, mitsuya, tengen, gyomei, etc.

© jupipedia. do not repost, plagiarized, or falsely claim my work. likes, comments, and reblogs are welcome!

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚❕*∘∘˙˚༄💨 ( a jupiter production. ) #anime smut #jjk smut #aot smut #mha smut #haikyuu smut #one piece smut #tokyo revengers smut #demon slayer smut #fire force smut

[rosegoldenatlas]

They're siblings, your honor

All of the hermits are one great big psychotic family. Here are the roles of the ones I know enough to point out properly and even reasoning. Might make this a foster au BTW.

Xisuma is the father, obviously. But like he's the kind of dad that works night shift just to see his kids more often. He's the kind of dad that adopts kids by pure accident. He's the dad that is always there to give advice and definitely got half of those tips from the internet and the other half from personal experience.

Doc is the eldest child, he was adopted by X because one day he just fucking appeared with his three friends at X's house (its basically a mansion because of how much space he needs to keep all of these kids in check) trying to steal food and supplies. He got caught because he hit his head on a doorframe an it woke up X lol. Doc would be like 17 in the au and he would immediately find a reason to not like Grian.

Beef is one of the people who arrived with Doc, he is on month younger than him and he's the reason X let them stay he night because he immediately invoked pity.

Etho also arrived with Doc, he is two months younger than him and he was supposed to be the only one going in to steal because he knew how to be sneaky but he had no conception of what was needed to survive on the streets so the rest had to join him.

Bdubs was the final person who arrived with Doc and he is a year younger than he rest of the NHO (he came up with the name in the au) Bdubs and Doc have this weird sibling rivalry where they'll have a huge argument over something important then Bdubs will ask for a ride two minutes later and suddenly all is well with the world.

Grian is classic middle child vibes except he's the kind of middle child that causes so many issues that he actually gets attention constantly. When Doc arrived (Grian was adopted a year before Doc was) he immediately accidentally broke Doc's robotics project he had been working on since before they met. Immediately he realized he effed up while Scar was only scared because Grian was. Grian is like 15 btw

Scar is three weeks younger than Grian and he is the kid who always gets in trouble for the most obscure things in school. Like comes home early cause he was suspended for creating a pyramid scheme for monster energy drinks kind of obscure. Also he has scammed most of his adoptive siblings out of their allowances.

Cub is Scars twin in this, he helped with all of the scams and pyramid schemes. But he never gets caught. Nobody knows how but he never got into trouble in school even though he sold pens that had test answers written on a piece of paper in them.

Cleo is 17 in this, she is the on who is put in charge of the house when X is gone because the NHO was deemed irresponsible after the incident which ended with Grian, Scar and Mumbo locked in a closet with the NHO taunting them through the door. Cleo is the only child who owns a car and the one who is consistently begged to drive people places. She has since used this to her advantage and now has the others pay by the mile.

Ren is younger than Cleo but is older than Mumbo, he apparently knew Doc before they were adopted and was adopted first. Ren is the classic theatre kid and does drama after school every Wednesday and Friday. One time he was supposed to watch the younger kids because X was at work, Cleo was shopping and the NHO group was doing stuff. This ended with X coming back to Ren about to be sent to exile (the yard) because he had crowned himself as king of the house and the TV remote was his magic scepter and he wouldn't let anyone else switch the channel.

Mumbo is a year younger than Ren and he used to be considered the most mature, for all of five minutes until he started doing things, these include; making a custom lock on his door out of rubber bands and twine which proceeded to somehow work two whole times before it ripped the doorknob out of the door, making a semi sentient robot out of an old furby and a gameboy, naming it Grumbot then adopting it with Grian, and then accidentally setting his curtains on fire while he was testing a homemade microwave because he wants one in his room but couldn't afford to buy one.

Pearl is the same age as Grian in this, she is labeled the demon child by every other sibling except for Gem and Cleo but she embraces the title. She is called this because she is known to bring dangerous animals into the house and her room is half full of terrariums and tanks of animals. She has brought in multiple spiders and snakes from outside and kept them as pets, she also has a running joke of taping objects to the ceiling so they're upside down. Her biggest prank was attaching everything in grians room to the ceiling including his bed and nobody except Doc, Cleo and Pearl herself know how it happened.

Joel is somewhere between Grians age and Bdubs' age. He is known for getting caught while pranking people in the house consistently. Which is a good thing because most of his pranks will end in something catching fire. He has started multiple cults and has convinced people to give him money to 'support the religion' He makes way too much money from it because he has multiple siblings convinced that the made up gods are real. He uses this money to buy insane amounts of Lego's to build with. He shares them sometimes. He also has a girlfriend at his school (Lizzie) and also whatever odd thing with his friend (Sausage bc c!Joel is probs poly) whom he has 'joint custody' over a small child they babysit sometimes.

That's all of the hermits in the au, here is all of their age in order of oldest to youngest ig

Xisuma (32)

Doc (18)

Beef (18)

Etho (18)

Cleo (17)

Bdubs (17)

Ren (17)

Joel (16)

Mumbo (16)

Grian (15)

Pearl (15)

Cub (14)

Scar (14)

And here is the order in which they were adopted;

Cleo & Ren

[Two months later]

Grian & Scar

[One week later]

Cub

[Three months later]

Pearl

[Two and a half weeks later]

Mumbo

[The next day]

Joel

[Seven months later]

Doc, Beef, Etho & Bdubs

Here is how/ why they were adopted.

Cleo and Ren were both originally foster kids and X was fostering them. They were about to age out of the system and be forced to live without any real help so X offered to adopt them.

Grian and Scar were runaways from their sucky homes and survived on the streets for a total of three days before X found them while he was at a picnic with Cleo and Ren. He took them in pretty quick.

Cub was actually Scars friend from school who tutored him sometimes, while staying over for dinner one night X asked about his home life. Cub explained that he had been emancipated and lived on his own. X offered to let Cub stay for a bit and Cub never really left.

Pearl just appeared in X's yard one day trying to catch a frog who had hopped into it. X was trying to find out where her parents were and she just sat there very confused on the concept of a parent and she claimed she had just appeared in existence one day. X was going to put her in the foster system but decided to just adopt her.

Mumbo was a kid up for adoption that Grian knew and Grian spent about three weeks convincing X to adopt him before X finally agreed.

Joel was found injured am knocked out in the forest one day and a pink haired girl (Lizzie) carried him over to the first safe looking house and knocked on the door. She was let in until Joel woke up, Joel said he was from space and X had decided that wasn't the weirdest story he's been told and yoinked him. X was close to adopting Lizzie until he found out Lizzie already had parents.

Doc, Beef, Etho and Bdubs were lab escapees who were apparently tested on in a shut down lab a few towns over. They had been living on the streets for a few months before they were caught trying to steal from Xisumas kitchen at five in the morning. They were adopted instantly.

Should I write this as a multi POV book of one shots from the same universe and put it on ao3? This is an idea just now occurring to me.

#docm77 #hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #headcanon #fanfic #ao3 #hermitcraft s10 #grian #xisuma #vintagebeef #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #bdouble0 #renthedog #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #cubfan135 #TSYHatlas

[ingravinoveritas]

qazskc replied to your post "Oh my God, Georgia...”

Somehow I think Georgia loves setting fire. The way she tagged APAT is kinda interesting… Base on what happened recently… Also MS followed her on IG so I'm pretty sure he sees everything. (But I might be wrong)

nightingalecottage replied to your post "Oh my God, Georgia...”

@ingravinoveritas idk why I’m getting a weird vibe from it… maybe it’s the mention of the children or the fact the she tagged AL. But I don’t get her humor most of the times, so…

@nightingalecottage @qazskc It is a weird vibe, and I'm glad other people are noticing this about Georgia's posts, too. How deliberate they are. Because Michael's been tweeting up a storm the past few days and him/David are getting a lot of attention with the whole "Thin Dark Duke" thing, and now all of a sudden Georgia and AL are promoting Staged again. These things never really feel like a coincidence, especially since this also just happened on Twitter, too:

...But what I think is really telling is that use of the word "shipping" in Georgia's story. I noticed that she referred to a whole album of Michael pictures, but not AL, nor a "Michael & Anna" album. As we've said before, Georgia is very deliberate in what she posts on social media, so I think that and "shipping" was purposeful...which makes her tagging AL in the corner of the story with #staged seem even more like an afterthought/awkwardly tacked on.

(Possibly also because Georgia pinned one of her previous stories to her profile--a picture of Michael, David, and Ty hashtagged #mumanddad--and titled it #fam, and while AL is part of posts promoting a professional project they were in, she is noticeably not part of something far more personal. It's all very weird and interesting, for sure...)

#qazskc #nightingalecottage #reply post #georgia tennant #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #there's also the fact that AL was called out on Insta a few days ago and Georgia said nothing #and now this #saying a lot by saying very little #'justthethreeofus' indeed #the whole thing just gives the vibe of keeping up appearances #in my opinion anyway #curiouser and curiouser #anna lundberg #discourse

[aclowntiny]

Hihi

I’ve been thinking of requesting something for a while and saw ur recent post which reminded me to. Congrats on 400! ☺️

I’d like to request a meeting pirate!Ateez reaction, or if you’re not vibing with that Ateez sharing clothes with their s/o (either s/o wearing their clothes or them wearing their s/o’s clothes, I think both are cute!)

Thanks so much for your work and no pressure at all! Your stuff always makes me happy when it comes up on my timeline 🫶🫶

Thank you so much sweetie! Yes, I’m so glad you requested ☺️ that makes me so happy to hear you don’t even know 🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕 I love this idea so without further ado…

(I’m sorry for how delayed this was! The other one will just be on a separate imagine hehe 🏴‍☠️)

Ateez Sharing Clothes With Their S/O

Hongjoong

♡ Oh you know this man will lend you anything out of his closet you need to complete your look 👀 If you’re down for it, Hongjoong would enjoy being the one to dress you just to admire how amazing you look and hope you see it too! Every time he dresses you he tries to balance things he wants to see you in, your own style/tastes, and of course including at least one piece of his!

♡ Seeing you in his jacket? Heaven. You are not accepting any jackets from any other men, only his 😤 but don’t worry he’ll smile so big and give you heart eyes the whole time he drapes it over you, handing the other member’s jacket back.

♡ The more pieces he lends you, the more you appear outwardly his, and that makes his heart go crazy. He’ll get extra affectionate and protective, wrapping an arm around you and placing kisses on your cheek. “That looks better on you than on me,” he’ll tell you with a cheeky grin, sliding his arm around your waist.

♡ Slides a ring off his hand and onto yours 💗

♡ But also highkey if he likes a piece of your jewelry he may ask to borrow it!!! What, it would go perfectly with these shoes!

Seonghwa

♡ Some of Seonghwa’s clothes just become yours because he gives you his sweater when you’re cold and then lets you keep it 🥺

♡ Sweaters are his favorite because you look so cute and cozy in them! Especially if the sleeves are long on you and you do sweater paws, that’s just the cutest thing in the world to him! He’ll sometimes hold your hands through the sweater paws so you both get warm hands~

♡ Goofball steals a pair of your fuzzy socks one day because he likes them and you tease him that ew, don’t take those, now they’re ruined, but in reality the pattern just suits him more and he looks so cute in your fluffy little garments that you have to give him a kiss~

♡ You two basically trade pieces of jewelry, like he gets one of your favorite rings and you get one of his- it's yours and Seonghwa's version of swapping sim card trays!

♡ If you put on one of his shirts without him knowing, he'll come up behind you, arms snaking around you, and start teasing you. "Well, this is a nice shirt- where did you find this, hm?"

Yunho

♡ You didn’t know there was an upgrade to being given your boyfriend’s jacket but here we are: being given your boyfriend’s suit jacket.

♡ Yunho and you were attending a formal event and, well, he had a suit jacket and you didn’t, so when you got cold, he was draping you with designer formalwear of all things. You couldn’t help reaching up to feel the shoulders, smiling shyly. “You look great, maybe you should keep it.” Yunho winks, then laughs in spite of himself.

♡ You prefer his jackets, he prefers your scarves. What, they smell like you and are way softer than his big ol thick one?

♡ Sometimes you, instead of looking through a mess of clothing or just because you need a shirt, you grab one of Yunho’s button-ups and throw it on.

♡ Yunho.exe has stopped working. His hands will be on you faster than you can say Timbuktu 👀

Yeosang

♡ You got this huge fluffy wonderful robe drapey fleece cloud of a garment for bedtime when it was cold, and little did you know your boyfriend was going to fall in love with it.

♡ He asked to try it on, and the moment it covered him he pulled it tight, falling backwards onto the bed in bliss. Sure, you’d bought it for yourself, but Yeosang looked so cute, how could you say no?

♡ Compromise achieved: Yeosang wears the open-faced fleece wonder, you just lay on his chest and get wrapped up in it too 🩷

♡ You jokingly stole one of his sweaters as ‘revenge’, pulling it on to see how he reacted, if he fought you on it.

♡ Spoiler alert: he did not, only burst into a shy, loving smile and pull you into his side for a hug, telling you you’re so cute 🥺 you should’ve known with how much it takes to make him mad!

San

♡ Does that corny thing where he wraps both of you in one long scarf. You can hardly walk but it’s ok because San is so cute as he nuzzles into you from above the soft knit 💔

♡ You also wear his gloves a lot because you forget them so San throws an extra pair in his pockets just for you! His gloves are way softer than yours anyway.

♡ One day, you throw on one of his infamous muscle shirts and flex, both of you laughing but also…San’s lowkey blushing at the sight of you like that 🤭

♡ All of a sudden he’s stammering out ‘u-uh if you want that you can keep it. I mean it just looks really, really good and…’

♡ Since you liked his winter coat last season, he starts shopping for another in your favorite color and material so you can steal it. Smiles with such joy and pride as he drapes the garment over you, helping you into the sleeves, and you gush over how cozy it feels and how much you love it. Mission success.

Mingi

♡ You needed a shirt one day after swimming, so Mingi gave you an extra t-shirt. Joke was on him, though- you just wanted a Mingi shirt 😈

♡ The next time you guys hang out, you’re wearing it and his jaw drops at the way it fits your body, having not really seen it beneath the night sky and your towel the first time.

♡ Arms go right around your middle immediately, you are trapped in Mingi’s embrace don’t try to get out it’s impossible 😤 well ok it’s possible but then he’ll be sad 🥺

♡ Starts lifting it up slightly as if he thinks something different from usual is going to be under there lmao. Smiles so wide, loving, cheeky, and blissful all in one almost no matter how you react to that.

♡ You start surprising him by stealing his clothes and wearing them since you got such a good reaction the first time! Most of the time he just lets you keep them as long as he can get his hands on you~

Wooyoung

♡ Bro he steals your clothes

♡ Loves the way they smell! If you can’t see each other for any extended amount of time beyond, like, a few days or a week he wants something of yours to have with him because your scent helps him fall asleep. Also guilty of cuddling your clothes and pretending you’re there 😅

♡ He loves putting his clothes on you, especially tighter stuff from on-stage, and then telling you how hot you look in them! Buys you similar things to keep afterward even if you just wear them for him 👀

♡ Lives for corny couple outfits, so expect him to buy two of things so you can both wear it or give you something of his so that he can dress to complement! You'll probably have to stop him from straight-up just buying those corny shirts that say 'yours' and 'mine' or 'I'm his! I'm hers!' type of stuff because Wooyoung that's silly!!!

♡ You give him one of your favorite bracelets he's mentioned liking before to wear so he has a piece of you and Wooyoung just melts. Never takes that thing off unless he's showering or something. No other bracelets exist in Jung Wooyoung's eyes.

Jongho

♡ You guys are engaged in a jesting war over jacket custody

♡ He gave it to you one cold evening and you loved it so much, you joked about never wanting to give it back and he protested, laughing as you pouted, and you dug in your heels until you two were laughing like dorks over nothing. Now you two alternate wearing it a lot, but Jongho remains insistent that it’s his, you just take care of it.

♡ He steals and tries on a hat of yours one day, and as much as you laugh you think it suits him pretty well; suddenly the hat gets joint custody too.

♡ It may sound odd, but he gives you an old necklace of his he doesn't wear much anymore because he likes more traditional gifts like jewelry and then you'll have a memento of him! You're like sorry this is way less sentimental I got you a new watch lmao but don't worry, he needed one and he loves it 😊

♡ The one day you grab one of his shirts, though, something snaps in him and he can’t stop staring. You ask him what, starting to apologize for taking it, but he just shakes his head and holds up a halting hand. “No, don’t be sorry. I really like seeing you this way,” he says, eyes sweeping before meeting yours again.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #matzbear #requested

[subskz]

https://www.instagram.com/p/C1Ron_ht9T-/?igsh=ZDA3M3I5MGJnZ2dr

the collar, the hoop earrings, the loosened tie, the whole mf outfit in general, the outrageous amount of tongue

idk what i want to do to him all i know is brat taming him and the 3rd slide lowkey looks like him wiping his lips so making him eat u out too yesyesyes anyways my favorite image is the first one <333 and the way he’s looking down in that one makes me wanna give him the most toe-curling, back-arching, sheet-grabbing head ever.

i need him

link!

feels like these two asks fit together seamlessly ♡

the collar + loosened tie + unbuttoned shirt is a 3 hit combo…and the hoop earrings + his inability to keep his tongue in his mouth 😰 this look was pure madness and exactly the vibe of cocky, insufferable jisung who’s sooo good at putting on a show to provoke you. that bravado that makes an appearance when he’s really feeling himself during a performance, all eyerolls, smug grins, and lip curls w his tongue lolling out like he’s challenging you to put him in his place. he looks and acts so tough as if he’s not doing all of this just w the hopes that you’ll ruin him for it hehe…the way he looks a lil roughed up makes me think of taking him apart backstage after a performance where he’s still sweaty, panting, and riding the adrenaline high of being on stage which results in him being extra bold, saying the filthiest things just to make u snap ❤️‍🔥

ur so right abt the third slide it’s the perfect visual of hannie swiping his mouth clean to savor every drop after you ride his face, not giving his throbbing cock any attention as punishment for acting up <3 unfortunately it doesn’t teach him much bc he’s so obsessed w using his insatiable tongue and so eager to taste you that eating you out is really more like a reward to him. if you yanked his head back by his hair and gave his face a slap to keep him focused when he starts moaning into you like he’s the one getting head, the lil brat just smiles up at you w dripping wet lips bc the pain only turns him on more…he’s a handful

the difference between his lazy gaze in the first few pics compared to his big round doe eyes in the last two is also insane…that’s how he looks before and after you’re done w him. you can tell underneath all his arrogance thet he’s still hungry for your approval, subtly vying for your praise w lil questions like “did you like watching me? i was that good, right? were you thinking of fucking me like this the whole time?” it’s so satisfying to see how he changes his tune when you ask where the tough guy from earlier went, bc all you see in front of you now is a needy little slut 🥰 all his cockiness melts away and suddenly he’s begging you w the most desperate eyes and pitiful whines, bc no matter how good he looks you’re the only one who decides whether or not he gets to feel good~

#ask #💌 hannie

[alaritheaurora]

Hey so, what the fuck is up with Shilo and Emizel?

Like yeah, they're brothers. Confirmed twins by Condi. How???

It's been made pretty clear that Shilo is half human, or at least in those kinds of vibes. There is never once a mention of his turning, he seems pretty clueless on humans, he has aged to his current age. But then he can also somewhat digest food, and his aura looks like a human aura. Yeah, that's all good, checks out.

What about Emizel? It is very hinted at, if not stated that Jeffrey is not his real father, but that he found or adopted him when he was still a baby. If Emizel is half vampire like Shilo, wouldn't he show that? He would, yeah, at least a bit. But he hasn't.

Even if takes more human traits, like Shilo takes more vampires traits. But he hasn't. There are no vampire traits. He's not faster, not stronger, doesn't have enhanced senses. I'm sure he would've noticed by now if he could do some mind shit or thought that blood looked particularily yummy. Even appearance wise, while we don't know exactly what he looked like, it is said that he is going through the vampire transition, becoming paler, getting fangs, pointy ears, red eyes. That is changing, he did not have that before. He looked like a human, he acted like a human.

The only time when he's human that he acts vampiric is when they say that "in the streetlight, it's almost like your eyes glow red" (not a direct quote, AT ALL, pulled from my ass and memore) but that is in reference to the all of the Demons. The whole gang have symbolism in their eyes.

The other time is when Emizel has been bitten and has the urge to bite his soon-to-be-sire back. There is something urging him to bite the guy. But that isn't necessarily a vampire thing. Vampires don't really bite other vampires. And for all we know, maybe there's some dying instinct that recognizes that vampire blood could save your life if you've been bitten. Or hell, Emizel just seems like he's kinda just like that. It does not seem out of character for his last dying action to be to bite someone.

So like, wtf? Why is Shilo half vampire and Emizel not?

I still think that the queen is their mom. I don't think she'd give a shit about Shilo if he weren't her son. And Emizel seems like the one she's keeping tabs on.

So here's my Lil theory. It was mentioned that vampires could briefly turn humans to eat shit. Now I don't know the vampire masquerade mechanics or shit, but it seems to me like maybe that could aply to more than just eating food. So like, maybe miss Queen Vampire wanted a night on the town, or hell, maybe she wanted a kid. So she got it on with some human, maybe Jeffrey, maybe not.

Gurl gets pregnant, but oops, it's twins. And when they're born, after a bit it's achingly clear one of them is more human than the other. Turns out, maybe doing the do while human fucked shit up a bit, so while the kids could carry vampire genes, they also could not at all. In fact it was probably more likely for the kid to not be a vampire at all.

So now her Majesty has two sons. One who looks like a vampire, one who doesn't. She's worried about both of them because they are at the very least half human and humans tend to die easily. She says "Hey, I'll give it time, maybe Emizel will just take time to be more vampire like, it's possible it's not an instantaneous thing"

She waits. Shilo is clearly a vampire. He drinks blood, he has little fangs, his eyes are red. Emizel, decidedly does and is not. After a few months, it becomes clear that Emizel is not a vampire. Fuck. What do they do?

Her council (or whatever the fuck they are) suggest to just kill Emizel, he's human, besides she already has one son, why need another? Miss Her Majesty is like "I dealt with too much morning sickness to get kill this kid". So maybe out of suggestion of the council, maybe out of fear for his life, she decides to ship baby Emizel off the LA without telling anyone. There he can grow up with humans and live a human life and not be as in danger as in the castle. Besides, she can just keep tabs on him so that if he does end up being half vampire she can scoop him up and plop him with his brother.

At least that's what I think. It's possible that Emizel is just built different.

#the suckening #jrwi emizel #jrwi show #jrwi shilo #jrwi the suckening #the suckening spoilers #jrwi spoilers #jrwi suckening #character study #just roll with it #Emizel #shilo #very normal about them #yup #very normal

[crystal-moon-101]

A while ago I had made up a Zak for each day of the week to match Zak Saturday and Monday for fun, and because I wanted to give Zak some more AU similar to how Ben gets a lot of them. So not only do they all have different last names, but each have their own backstories and colour theming! So I hope you enjoy my little AU concepts.

-Zak Saturday-

Classic original Zak. I decided to draw them all when they're 11, start of the series vibes. So that's why he doesn't look like the ways I normally draw him currently, since those are when he's 14. Nothing different with his design here, beyond still giving him those vivid orange eyes.

-Zak Sunday-

Also known as Zak Argost, having been taken in by the man after he had a certain encounter with Zak's parents, resulting in their deaths. When Argost found the young toddler, seeing the start of Zak's power, he was happy enough to take the child with him and use his powers to his benefit. Due to being taken when he was very young, Zak doesn't remember his parents at all, fully believing in anything Argost tells him, the only family he has. So he happily helps his guardian in keeping cryptids tamed during Weird World shows, or during trips to learn about them, even if Argost puts Zak in more danger than he should. Due to his appearances on Weird World, Zak is a celebrity of sorts, even if he doesn't get to go out often. Argost also gives him a lot of gifts, keeping the child in a positive mood to keep him under his thumb. So Zak truly believes that Argost cares about him.

Though things start to turn when Argost finally decides it's time to hunt down Kur and take his powers, hiring Van Rook and Doyle on the mission. This leads to Zak and Doyle getting to know each other, with Doyle feeling protective over this random kid for some reason. Eventually this leads to him taking Zak away when this whole Kur business gets out of hand. While Doyle can't seem to convince Zak that Argost doesn't care about him, the pair do at least agree to try and find Kur first, Zak worried that even Argost shouldn't handle such powers. However, only time will tell if the pair discover the truth behind their unknown family history.

-Zak Monday-

The good old twisted gremlin of a child, Zak Monday and his family were a result of the smoke mirror. They come from a world that twists the very nature of people, a poor reflection of their negative aspects. If you're naive, then your mirror self is incredible dumb. If you're a bit of a perfectionist, then your mirror self is a control freak. And Zak Monday represents the twisted doubts of Zak feeling like a monster, so why have any doubts when you can be the monster?

I decided to change Zak Monday a bit to have the green eyes and green shirt with his own logo, cause I liked the idea that after his first appearance, they switch back to what they're suppose to look like. But other than that I kept the concept of him looking just like Zak, minus the inverted hair colour.

-Zak Tuesday-

The young naga is the son of Rani Nagi. Born solely to have Kur's soul enter and be a host, but whoops! Looks like Kur's memories aren't there, but that wasn't going to stop Rani Nagi, who thinks if she keeps at her plans, eventually her son will become the old cryptid king she once knew. Even going as far as to solely call her child Kur, who secretly calls himself Zak due to him often watching humans in the shadow, curious about them and wanting a name for himself. Zak Tuesday has a lot of identity issues, not helped by his mother's teachings towards him, ignoring all his dreams and personal thoughts. Eventually he just got really good at lying rather than convincing Rani Nagi.

However, the young cryptid prince is suddenly kidnapped by Argost one day, as he figured out where Kur's soul was currently living. Zak knew he would have died that day if not for Drew and Doc recusing him, having been chasing Argost over this Kur situation. Though they're a little surprise that upon meeting the new Kur, they find it's just a young naga who really doesn't know who he is. At first Doc and Drew didn't know what to do with him, but Zak begged them to not send him back home, and let him stay at their place until he could figure things out. He wasn't foolish, he knew the nagas were planning a war, and he wasn't keen on being the face of it all. So now the Tuesdays just have a snake living around the house, but they can't exactly complain as he is a well mannered guest at least. And perhaps the house doesn't feel so lonely with him around either.

-Zak Wednesday-

Some of you might recognize this one, but this Zak is from my old Zur AU, where Kur was reborn via the Kur Stone due to it being an egg, and Zak is a dragon that shapes between human form and dragon form. I decided to update him, making him Zak Wednesday now, with a pink theme! I also decided that instead of Kur being reborn, I wanted to shake things up a bit and have it that Zak was directly Kur's son. His mother is unknown, and as Kur saw how the world was at the time, he put Zak's egg into a stasis situation until it was discovered again. After saving it from Argost, the egg hatched among the secret scientist, leading to them chasing the child of Kur. But upon using his shapeshifting abilities to look like a child of Drew and Doc, they just couldn't help but adopt him on the spot, siting there was no sense in blaming Kur's son over what happened years ago.

The growing dragon is very playful with a cheeky personality. He exhibits a lot of draconic behaviors, with a wild and free spirit. He is aware of his family history, but he doesn't like to think about it, unsure in how to view his father based on the stories he's heard. Besides, Doc and Drew are his parents, and that's all that matter to him. Though perhaps this sudden appearance by Argost, claiming he was going to far Zak's father, has been a bit rattling to deal with.

-Zak Thursday-

When Kur knew he was going to die, and also knew his soul wasn't able to live the mortal realm, he made plans to make it so his reborn self would both be born in hopefully a better time, and be without his memories. It was better that way, so that his new self could live a lovely life without the sins from his past. But that didn't exactly pan out properly, as Kur was reborn and sadly remembers everything. It took him a while to understand this growing up, his young human mind not processing it until he was roughly 7-8, and even then he needed time to think about it. And now he's a depressed 11 year old who now has to be stuck with the fact his plan didn't work, unable to run away from the person he once was. Doc and Drew found out the truth when Zak tried running away one day, their son sitting them down and telling them the truth in hopes they'd just leave him, it would be better that way. But to his surprise they disagreed, as he was still their son, Kur or Zak, and it would be too dangerous to leave him alone.

So now Zak lives with his parents? Are they really his parents? The family keeping this dark secret to themself, even from the other scientists. Doc and Drew still reach out to their son, doing their best to connect with him, but he can't help but push them away. He doesn't deserve this, and they deserve better. However, their secret might come out after Argost stole the Kur Stone and now hunts for Kur, not realizing the truth right in front of him. So now the family tries to get the stones back, wanting to protecting Zak/Kur from others finding out. Doesn't help that he has to go through being a child again with such dark memories lingering in his head, feeling tired and overwhelmed with the world. Hasn't he suffered enough?

-Zak Friday -

In a world where Kur and cryptids successfully wiped out humans, the king ruled the lands for a while after, before one day he mysteriously vanished. Many concluded that he had died somehow, the details unknown, but this lead to a prophecy that one day their king would return, leading to many claiming to be him, or praying that they will be him for the power and wealth. In this universe, Zak and his family are all cryptids, with Zak being a a Chuvash Dragon, Drew and Doyle are Epimeliads, and Doc is a Gargoyle (Other characters are also cryptids in this timeline). Zak is a serpent like dragon that breathes fire, as a very twistable body, and can freely shapeshift. He's heard about the legend of Kur returning, but frankly he thinks they don't need him, even if the cryptid world has been shattered without a king for years now.

But when a yeti named Argost claims that Kur is back, being backed up by the Nagas, everyone starts to gossip and run around trying to figure out who the new Kur is. So maybe it's best that Zak doesn't tell the whole world about his sudden new powers to control and communicate any fellow cryptid is walks by.

#The Secret Saturdays #TSS #Secret Saturdays #The Secret Saturdays AU #AU #Zak Saturday #Character Design #Creature Design #My Art

[everythingmp3]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

you´ve been living in Jackson for a few years and things are not looking great; you are bored, lonely, and have very little to look forward to but your feeling of numbness stops all of a sudden when Tess and Joel arrive in town. you feel an intense pull towards Tess that makes it impossible for you to remain a loner.

author´s note: this is an alternative reality where Tess and Joel went to Jackson as a platonic duo with the plan to live there indefinitely. Joel has a few appearances with dialogue, him and Tess give off middle aged bestie vibes, reader is kinda depressed about her situation but nothing heavy. also this isn’t about the game, never played it, this is just what Anna’s Tess inspired in me. hope u enjoy! (part 2 can be found here)

warnings: minors dni! smut (reader receiving, fingering), there´s a slight dom/sub vibe going with Tess and reader but only if you squint, not dark at all, spit is involved briefly

word count: 9.5k

honesty was not something you could afford anymore those days. you knew that if anyone had a clue about how you really felt about your life in Jackson, you´d have been called ungrateful or worse, so you kept it to yourself but the ugly truth was that you did not feel grateful, not at all. most days you felt nothing, there was a vast emptiness inside of you and no way to fight it, no way to reach a sense of fulfillment. on paper it was an ideal situation: community based living where everyone feels responsible for everyone, decent food and fresh air, the option to spend time with animals, to take care of kids or elders, to spend evenings drinking tea or having a drink with other people your age, celebrating holidays together, peace, quiet, tranquility. 

it was all ideal in theory, but in praxis it had slowly but surely sucked the life out of you over the years. you´d grown up in a QZ in the south, which was hard in its own right, but you were used to that lifestyle: the tall buildings, the wide spaces, the anonymity, the ability to walk for miles and not reach city limits. living in a small town, a space that confined and regulated, it was wearing you down; you hated that you could never just walk outside without being recognized, without everyone knowing your name and greeting you, expecting a bright smile in return for theirs, you hated the weird cheerful vibe that hung thick in the air at all times, the odd sense of satisfaction that everyone seemed to carry with them despite living through the end of the world, the families that took up the whole town with their domestic sweetness, it all began to piss you off a few weeks into your first year there, but instead of turning cruel or mean, you decided to zone out as best as you could and just keep to yourself. you were not made for that kind of life, you yearned for more, for excitement, for big cities and anonymity and the freedom to move around amongst strangers, you wanted the thrill of something dangerous and surprising, but day in day out, you were bored and lost in your dreams of a different life. 

Jackson didn´t get new arrivals often, so the few times that the town gates opened up to strangers, everyone was highly curious; kids hoping they´d get some new friends their age, a few sleazy guys hoping that hot girls were part of the group, others who were more pragmatic about it just hoping that the newcomers were strong enough to help out with physically demanding jobs. you never really cared, they were all the same to you, but when you heard that Tommy´s brother and his friend were coming, you had to admit you were intrigued, since Tommy and Maria were two of the few people you felt comfortable around. 

you were subtle about it, keeping your distance, but you watched them being toured around town on their first day and you found yourself looking at Joel´s friend more than at him, even though you´d assumed that he was the one you´d pay attention to, considering your interest in seeing who Tommy was related to, but the moment you saw Tess she stuck out you, immediately. it was impossible to explain why, but seeing her confident walk, her stern look, the air of mystery that surrounded her, it was such a contrast to all the other women you´d come across, your whole body had a reaction the sight of Tess. the first time you heard her voice from afar, you thought oh wow. that´s a good fucking voice, the voice of a woman who doesn´t take anyone´s shit. truthfully, it kind of turned you on. 

the first few days of them settling in, it was impossible to get a chance to say hi, people swarmed them wherever they went, so it took about a week until you found yourself nursing a drink at the bar and saw that Tess was standing all alone, just looking around, so without wasting any time you got up and walked over, a little shy, but eager to see what she was like, to hear that voice up close. 

once you were a few feet away from her she locked eyes with you and gave a nod, you almost felt your cheeks flush from the eye contact and tried to act casual as you introduced yourself, followed by “so, how are you liking it here so far?” a little mischievousness in there, like you were trying to get her to admit that it wasn´t all rainbows and sunshine. 

Tess could tell what you were trying to do and it amused her but she chose the diplomatic answer, unsure whether she could trust your discretion, “oh you know. it´s a lot to adjust to after all that time in the QZ. we also had one hell of a journey here so yeah, still processing. but so far I can´t complain” you nodded, “right, you guys must´ve gone through some shit out there. I remember when we came here a few years ago, almost froze to death a few times”, she agreed “yeah it was pretty gnarly. and obviously Joel and I aren´t the youngest anymore, I think we complained about our backs hurting at least 100 hundred times a day, kind of a miracle we didn´t just kill each other honestly”, a laugh from you then.

“well, it´s better now I hope? they gave you a good house, nice beds? I´d assume Tommy saw to that”, she nodded, “oh yeah for sure, listen, after all that, anything seems like a fucking five start hotel to me, I am easy to impress in that regard”. you found yourself standing closer to her than you usually did while talking to people, looking at her with more interest, she was exactly what you´d hoped she´d be: funny, charming, but not in a way that was particularly soft or endearing, a distinct hardness was there, unwavering, and it pulled you closer, you had respect and admiration for that kind of temperament, not just that, but a deep attraction too, you couldn´t remember the last time a woman had had that effect on you. 

there wasn´t much else you could bring up or say, you kept it brief for your first encounter, “anyway, I just wanted to say hi, wish you guys a smooth moving in process and all that. we´ll see each other around I´m sure!” she nodded, something about you was charming to her, “right yes, and thank you. see you around!”. 

you set down your glas on the counter and made your way out of the bar, Tess didn´t think twice about it but an older man who had just gotten his glass of whiskey and overheard the exchange leaned closer to her, “how´d you manage to do that?”. she was confused, “how did I do what?”, the man watched as you walked out of the door, she did too, “I don´t think I´ve ever seen that girl initiate small talk with anyone, and she´s been here for a few years so, you must´ve done something right”. she was taken off guard by that, “really?”, he nodded, “yeah that one´s not a talker, keeps to herself. not that she´s rude or anything, not at all, but socializing.. yeah not her thing, she´s a lone wolf.”, the more he said, the harder it was for Tess to believe him, why would you be more inclined to talk to a random stranger who usually doesn´t seem very inviting, than some nice person who you´ve lived with for years? “okay. and what´s her deal?” she asked, intrigued, he smiled, “well, I´m not one tell people´s business. but from what I just saw, I´m pretty sure you won´t have to try hard to get that info out of her” she nodded, “right. sure. if you say so”

the man took a sip of his drink, muttering “funny girl” as he left Tess standing there, wondering what you´d seen in her that had driven you to start a conversation. next to Joel, she was often keenly aware of her lack of charm, he had no trouble fitting in with everyone in Jackson, that southern hospitality reminiscent of his old life, the Texas Joel coming out again, whereas she could tell that some people were a little intimidated by her, by her potential judgment or lack of enthusiasm over her new home. Tess knew she was not the best at first impressions, so the idea that someone in that town might have taken a genuine liking to her just by looking at her, she had to admit, it felt really good. partially because you were one of the only women she´d seen so far that she´d consider her type. 

the next morning in the dining hall Tess sipped her black coffee, glancing over at you a few times, before setting the cup down and clearing her throat. “hey”, she tapped Joel on the shoulder, who turned to her, mumbling his words because his mouth was still half full, “yeah, what is it?”, “what do you make of her?” Tess asked, pointing at you. you sat a few tables away from them and had no idea you were being watched, Joel studied your expression for a moment, “hm. I don´t know. seems kinda tired. and I don´t mean from a lack of sleep” Tess nodded, “yeah, seems that way”, she paused for a moment but she trusted Joel, so she continued, “this thing happened yesterday, she talked to me and apparently she hardly talks to anyone. strange huh?”, he considered it, “interesting. well, if you ask me you should see what that´s about. I mean, what do you have to lose, hm? seems like she could use a friend. or you know…”.

she knew what that last part was insinuating and threw him a look that said very funny, he teased her a little, “oh, don´t act like a saint Tess, I know you wouldn´t pay attention like this to any random person. and I don´t blame you, she´s very pretty”, “okay, watch it old man” she said, a sudden harshness to her tone. Joel knew exactly how to rile her, he laughed, patting her on the back as he stood up, “don´t worry, she´s all yours. come on now, let´s go, we´re on for patrol, you can continue your ruminating out there”, she waved him off “you know what, forget I ever mentioned it” but part of her enjoyed it, it had been ages since anyone had caught her attention, since there´d been banter like that between her and Joel over breakfast. 

the next night, there was a bigger get together, most people either drank or danced or sat around tables in small groups, and you tried your best to join in on it but after about an hour you felt the urge to leave, so you stood outside on your own for a short while, debating whether to go back in and say goodbye or just do an Irish exit. about 10 minutes after you went out there, someone else followed: Tess. she had the same issue, not really being one for parties or large gatherings, so it was a pleasant surprise for her, to see someone else standing there. 

“air got a bit thick in there” Tess said as she approached you, taking a deep breath, hands in her pockets, standing to your side, you looked at her, making a “hm” sound of agreement, she continued “oh by the way, I might be totally wrong but I thought out of everyone here you might be the one who´d appreciate this thing I found in my bag yesterday” she pulled something out of her jacket pocket, at first you couldn´t see but then you realized she was holding out a pack of cigarettes to you, “take it, I don´t need them. but I have a feeling you might”, you smiled, “do I give off that energy?”, “kinda yeah” she admitted, you took the pack, pulling one out, “and you´d be right. hell I´d take any drug at this point but this is a good start”, she got out a lighter, stepping closer to you, holding out her hand to shield the flame, “come here”, you liked the sound of that, the tone of an order, you blushed as you leaned closer to her, you didn´t make eye contact but she took in the sight of your face up close, your lips, before you stepped away again and took a drag, exhaling slowly with a sound of pleasure, “yeah this is good, thank you”, after a moment of silence you met her eyes again.

 “so, I heard you and Joel did some pretty fucked up shit back in the QZ”, that got the first genuine laugh out of Tess in a good while, everyone else in Jackson had danced around the topic, never explicitly mentioning their past as smugglers, probably to pretend that they were just a normal middle aged man and woman, but there you were, getting straight to the point, and it was refreshing, to hear someone speak that frankly. somehow she felt like you shared a language, “you could say that yeah”, you were curious, “ever killed someone?”, “of course” she responded without thinking twice, and for a moment she regretted it, scared of your reaction, but when she saw that you were grinning she thought oh no, I don´t have to censor myself at all around this girl at all.

“do you still have a gun?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at her, daring her to say the truth. she eyed you, debating whether to lie, knowing that it wasn´t encouraged to have weapons like that in Jackson, since it didn´t mix well with the pacifist vibe, her voice giving away that it was a clear yes, “but shh”, holding her index finger to her lips, you nodded, smiling “sure I won´t tell. that is if you let me hold it sometime”, she crossed her arms, impressed by your audacity, “oh I see we´re negotiating now, are we?”, you shrugged, “hey, I´ll give you something in return, anything really, just ask”, she turned your words over in her head for a second, wondering if they were as suggestive as she hoped they were.

 “right, okay I´ll think about it. have you ever fired one?”, you shook your head “no, we left the QZ when I was 17, too early to get into any of that”, she perked up, “right, I meant to ask you about that. what´s your story, how´d you end up here?”. you tried to summarize it well, not wanting to bore her with the whole thing, but from the way she was looking at you then, you realized you had her undivided attention, “the short version is this: my parents died a few years before I came here. I was too young to live on my own back then, like 14, so this girl I was friends with, her parents took me in. then when I was 17 they said they knew people here, that our life be better. they didn´t force me, I had a choice, but I would have been on my own and I was scared so I came here. we got along fine but I could tell they were sort of relieved when I suggested I should live on my own here, so yeah, that´s what happened” she took the words in, “I´m sorry. all of that must´ve been rough at that age” she felt a pain her heart, imagining you that young, already confronted with that much loss and change, it was starting to make sense, why you seemed sort of numb to everything, why a happy-go-lucky outlook didn´t really suit you. but she also respected you for it, knowing what it took to rebuild your life after a rupture like that. 

“can i say something really fucked up?” you said, taking another drag of the cigarette before flicking it away and rubbing your hands together to stay warm, she grinned, increasingly charmed by you, “please do, I´ve had enough polite chit-chat today”.

that encouraged you to be really honest, “I regret coming here. I wish I´d have been brave enough to stay back, make my way on my own. I am miserable here in ways I never was back then. it´s fucked up I know, considering all this” you gestured towards the fairy lights hung on a house across the street, the snow, the peaceful air of the moment, “but it´s the truth” a shaky exhale, like you were physically releasing tension by confessing that thought. 

Tess instinctively got closer to you, she was very interested in your thoughts then, “what do you miss?”, you had a wistful look in your eyes, “everything. minding my business and being left alone, walking for hours without seeing anyone I know, the wide spaces, the way nobody pretended that life was great, the fact that people were allowed to be openly frustrated with shit. here it seems almost blasphemous to say that you´re pissed off or angry about how your life turned out, back then it was a shared feeling of well, we´re in this hell together, you know? I don´t know man, I just don´t fit in here I think”.

it made sense to her what you were saying, she could feel some of it to be true for herself, “yeah I´ll be honest you don´t seem like the rest of them here”, you looked up at her then, “I don´t?” she shook her head, “no. if none of this ever happened I´d imagine you to be the type to end up in New York or some other big city with some cool friend group, going out a lot, hanging out in cafes all day, something like that” you groaned, “jesus don´t stay that you´ll make me cry”, she laughed, placing a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, her grip stronger than you expected, a heat where her fingers pressed into your skin through your jacket, “sorry, I´ll stop. but you get what I mean”, “yeah, I do, thank you. feels good to say it all out loud for once”, “well, then I´m glad. also I won´t lie, Joel is better fit for this place than I am, so you´re not alone. but then again, I´m older, I get that for someone your age it´s especially shitty to be stuck in this suburban kind of living, with no way out”. she was spot on. 

“well, I might have to ask you to tell me some stories about your life then, to live vicariously” you smiled at her, batting your eyelashes for dramatic effect, she was not immune to it, “right, some lovely stories about breaking people´s bones during fights” she joked, your eyes had a twinkle in them then, she clocked it and wondered for a second if the idea of her violent past might actually be part of what made you like her, find her attractive. “tell me more..” you said, your voice clearly signaling that you weren´t shocked but intrigued, Tess thought about what she could share, “well most of it is the same story of dumb luck mixed with slightly above average shooting skills, but one time I somehow managed to win a fight when the guy had a gun and I only had a knife. one of my sweeter memories” she joked, you nodded, “impressive. I´d like to see that” you meant it, she shook her head, “believe me you wouldn´t, it´s not glamorous, sounds much cooler than it looked”. you looked at each other for a moment, the night air was cold, you were both shifting your weight and clasping your hands together to stay warm, since apparently neither of you wanted to suggest going back inside or home.

Joel was the one to interrupt the moment. he swung the door open, looking around and seeing Tess standing there with you, giving you both a nod, waiting to see if Tess was gonna leave with him, both of you could feel that it might be time to call it a night, “well, I think that´s my cue” she said, you nodded, “yeah, I should get going too”, pointing in the direction of your house, “but it was nice talking to you” she agreed, “I´m sure we´ll run into each other again soon, would be pretty hard not to in this small ass town” you laughed, glad that she was willing to engage in some light shit talking “exactly, see you around”. 

“sorry, didn´t mean to cockblock you there” Joel said with a smugness about him as they started walking, Tess slapped him on the arm for that one, muttering “shut up” under her breath. “but on a real note, I asked Tommy about her and he couldn´t tell me shit. only that it took a while for her to warm up to them and now they´re friends, sort of. apparently she´s real smart, has read about every damn book in town, good on horseback, other than that he couldn´t tell me much.” that description didn´t mix at all with the fact that you´d just been so open with her, that you´d had no issue telling her about your deep feelings, it was dawning on her that you actually did behave differently around her, that you seemed to trust her for some reason. 

“we talked a little. she´s cool” she said plainly, trying to sound casual, he let her believe she did, “Tommy said people are kinda intimidated by her” Tess looked at him, “really?”, to her it seemed absurd but she could see why others might feel differently, “hmm” he said, “reminds me of someone else I know” nudging Tess in the side as they kept walking, she smiled to herself, not letting him see it, but he was right, something about you seemed surprisingly familiar, it kind of impressed her that your instincts had been sharp enough to pick up on it that quickly. part of her was grateful, it was good to know that regardless of where things would go with you, she´d always be able to count on having someone to have a good chat with, to be her true self with for a moment. 

the next few days you saw each other a few times, on the street in passing, in the dining hall, and Tess quickly realized why others might be hesitant to approach you; there was a stark contrast between how´d you acted that night talking to her, compared your vibe during the day. your expression was not grumpy but not inviting either, there was a clear distance that you kept between yourself and everyone else, you were polite, but whenever she saw you interacting with people there was none of that charm that you´d had with her, your eyes didn´t sparkle, your face was way less expressive, you seemed mellow, a little depressed to her, like you´d rather be on your own. she kept thinking back to how you´d smiled at her and it haunted her, the fact that you didn´t do it for anyone else. she didn´t want to admit it to herself but she wanted to talk to you again, she was dying for some excitement herself, the domestic life in Jackson wasn´t making her yearn for more as well, so about a week later she gave in. Tess had an idea about how she might get some genuine joy into your system. 

by the time Tess knocked on your door it was about 09:30 pm. it took a while for you to answer but she saw that a light was on so she was patient, standing there until you cracked the door open, a few visible marks from a pillow on your cheek, “oh fuck sorry did I wake you?” you shook your head, glad to see her, trying to fully wake up, “no, I mean.. kind of, I fell asleep on the couch” she laughed, “falling asleep before 10, huh? how old are you again?”, you squinted your eyes at her, “did you come here to make fun of me, or-?”, clearly not really bothered by her razzing you, “not strictly, no. I have a surprise. go put on a jacket, and a scarf too while you´re at it, it´s fucking cold” you nodded, trying to understand what her plan was, “a surprise?”, “well don´t think too big it´s nothing crazy, but yeah”, “okay wait, give me one second” you left the door open and quickly got dressed, a smile on your face then, you had no idea what was happening but you were just happy to see her again, to be sought out by her, so you hurried out and shut the door, following her. 

as you started walking you exchanged a few formalities, then you asked “where´s your buddy?” in a sort of teasing tone, she threw you a look from the side, “my buddy” she imitated in a low tone, “he´s with his brother. Maria isn´t feeling well, and I don´t need to be the only woman at that table, I really don´t” you laughed, “right, I get that. so what are we doing?” you asked, trying to suss out where she was leading you but it looked like you were heading towards the stables, she didn´t bother answering your question, “people won´t bother us there at this hour right?” she said, seemingly worried you might get caught doing something. you knew she wasn´t shameless or desperate enough to just lead you somewhere in public to hook up with you, but still, part of you liked the double meaning of the sneaking around, trying to find a place where you wouldn´t be disturbed, “no, I actually sometimes go to the horses at night when I can´t sleep. it´s kinda relaxing” that was an endearing image to her, you amongst those big animals, maybe petting them or talking to them, “yeah, I heard you´re good with them”, a prideful smile flickered across your face for a second “I guess yeah. I never really got the craze about dogs, I like them more, they´re strong but quiet about it”, that way of putting it amused her, she met your eyes; it didn´t escape her that that description also fit her. 

once you reached the stables and went inside, she walked over to you, close enough to face you. that was the first moment that night you actually took a good look at her; she looked hot even though barely an inch of her skin was visible, a forest green flannel was peaking out of her brown oversized jacket, she was wearing jeans that looked worn in, fit her perfectly, her face was flushed from the ice cold air, her long hair falling down her face in waves, the wind had messed it up a little, you were staring as she spoke, “so, I´m gonna need you to close your eyes and hold out your hands for me” you were clearly confused by that “huh? are you joking?”, she shook her head, “no, go on, do it”, so you did, not arguing about it, and she liked it, seeing you take her instruction without much questioning, your palms open, facing up, Tess could´ve done anything, she almost reached out and took your hands in hers, but she got her mind back to what the actual plan was before she could slip up and do it.

you could hear her reaching for something inside of her jacket, “okay, don´t be shocked it´s a little cold and a little heavy” you were out of ideas, no clue what was gonna be placed in your hands, a moment later you felt something that was clearly metal of some sort, holding it tentatively at first, “okay, open your eyes” she was standing a bit further away then, watching your reaction, and it was worth it: you jaw dropped when you realized she´d placed her gun in your hand. 

“you know, keeping up my end of the deal” you recalled that you´d jokingly told her to let you hold it but you didn´t think she´d actually do it. it wasn´t a small one either, you started tracing its features with your index fingers, inspecting it up close, fascinated, she watched you, a grin, “you like it, don´t you?” it was clear from your expression that you did, her suspicions about you not being easily shocked by anything confirmed, you nodded, “is it loaded?”, “hmm” she confirmed, and that really surprised you. she had basically handed you a lethal weapon that she knew you had no practice with, enough trust in you to believe you wouldn´t put her in danger, even though she hardly knew you. 

Tess moved to sit down on a stack of hay, keeping her eyes on you, “okay, now give me your best pose”, “huh??” you said, staring at her. “you know, show me how you´d yield that thing. just pretend I am some freak who is about to attack you”, you lowered your eyes, “right that should be easy”, she smiled, leaning back against the wall, manspreading, “I´m waiting”, an authoritativeness to her tone that made it impossible to deny her request. 

you felt a sense of embarrassment, hyper aware of your body because of her unflinching gaze, but it wasn´t entirely unpleasant, there was a heat to it too, so you relaxed your muscles and actually thought about how you´d behave, getting a feel for the gun, holding it out, not pointed at her but next to her, shifting your stance a little, closing one eye, a nod of approval from her, “not bad, not bad at all actually. I might have just recruited you if you´d been back in my QZ”, you grinned, dropping your arms, standing more naturally again, “then you don´t have very high standards if this is all it would take”, Tess stood up, “yeah, maybe I don´t”, moving closer to you, “do that again please”, she watched from up close then, “there´s just one thing I´d change, and then you´re good to shoot the shit out of something, or someone. here”, before you knew what was going on, she knelt down next to you and used both of her hands to roughly push your leg into a stance that would support your weight better, that would make it harder for someone to push you over. the feeling of her manhandling you like that shot a wave of adrenaline through your whole body, you almost asked her to keep her hands on your knee because it felt so good, even thought there was a thick fabric between her skin and yours, it felt just as thrilling as if she´d touched your bare leg. 

“yeah that´s better” she said, glancing up and down your body, “suits you. you should get into some shady business if you ever leave this place” she said, only half joking, admittedly a little turned on from seeing you like that,  “you´re really corrupting me here, huh? and you didn´t see me shoot yet, I might be god awful” she shrugged “oh we could work on that. maybe we´ll end up on patrol together one day, you could go off on some trees, practice” you laughed, “sure, sounds great”, the idea actually did seem pretty good to you, being out there far away from everyone with her for a while, doing something sort of forbidden, there was a clear intrigue in you and she could sense it, a pride swelling in her over the fact that her plan to get you to loosen up and have some fun had worked, she´d gotten through to you again, that smile back on your face that she hadn´t seen all week, that she´d admittedly missed and daydreamed about a few times. 

Tess was at a point in her life where she rarely felt angry about her circumstances, she was way past that, there was a general philosophy of it is what it is that she subscribed to, but because of you it was different all of a sudden, there was an anger about the world that you had reawakened in her. all she could think of the days after first talking to you was that she wished that the outbreak had never happened, that you´d have gotten to live the way people in their 20s lived back then: going out to bars with friends, spending hours out and about, studying, walking around town, going to see films in theaters, going to concerts, taking road trips, traveling, the list of things she wished you could go out there and experience was endless and it pissed her off, that someone clever like you was destined to just wither away, nothing to look forward to, no big dreams to go after. Tess could tell you´d have built a beautiful vibrant life for yourself if you´d have just gotten the chance, and she knew she couldn´t give you a miracle, but she knew she could give you something. you evidently saw something in her that you wanted, and she would try to do her best to give it to you. pulling you out of your house at night to have some stupid fun was a start. you sat down next to her on the stack of hay then, fidgeting with some pieces of it, the gun resting in your lap.

“so, you must have been pretty bored if this was your idea for a Friday night” you said, teasing, she raised her eyebrows, looking at you from the side, you were sitting close enough for you to see her eye color for the first time, “well, if there´s a secret exciting nightlife around here that i could have explored instead, please do enlighten me” you laughed, “yeah no, staying up past 12 am is as about as wild as nights can get here”, she nodded “sounds about right”, busying her hands with rubbing her legs that had gotten a little cold. “you know I get it, what you said, about having that kinda fucked up nostalgia for the QZ. I would never say this to anyone here because I really am grateful for their kindness but yeah. I do miss a few things about our old life” she seemed lost in thought, you felt for her but you were also relieved to have some comradery for once, after years of only thinking about these things, never sharing them with anyone, you spoke up “yeah I´ll be real with you, at this point I even miss the fear of walking around darker secluded parts of the city and possibly ending up in a fight. I would take a punch right over another night of not knowing what to do with myself” she let out a genuine laugh, your honesty was refreshing, attractive even, she´d never been a fan of sugar coating things.

“I hear you, I also miss the thrill of certain things, I am not great at just being content and settled. maybe I was when I was younger but yeah. things changed”, she was staring into space but you were looking at her, enjoying the feeling of being close to her, it was a peaceful scene, you two surrounded by silence, only the faint sounds of horses moving, the smell of earth and fresh air and hay, something comforting and serene about it, you patted her leg sympathetically, “but you´ll be fine, I can tell, you´re tough” she turned to look at you then, the feeling of your hand on her instantly pulling her out of her thoughts, your expression was soft, it had been a while since someone had looked at her like that, “that I am, yes” she said, a slight grin. 

she pointed towards your chest “okay that jacket really isn´t warm enough, you´re shivering”, you hadn´t realized because you were so lost in the joyful feeling of being with her, but she was right, your body had quickly grown cold from just sitting there, “do you have a fireplace in your house?” she asked, “no, just some heaters that only work half the time. wait, do you?”, “yeah, I think Joel left it on earlier so the rooms would warm up a little”, “damn, it really does pay off to come here as a relative of someone in town huh? they gave you the fancier kind of house”, “guess so. so much for everyone being equal around here, right?” she joked, you smiled, “I mean I´ll share our luxuries, gladly, you could come warm up if you want. jesus your hands are red” she said, holding one of your your hands in both of hers, shielding it from the icy air, your breath hitched as you felt her skin on yours, she rubbed your hand a little in attempt to get the blood flow going again, “yeah no, we´re going inside, I won´t be responsible for giving you fucking hypothermia out here, come” she said, pulling you up, the word “we” swirling around in your head, all those details you pick up on when you like someone, the first time of her referring to the two of you as a union, as “we”. 

you almost felt dizzy from that whole exchange, by the sudden tenderness, her worry for your well being. most nights you could have sat there for hours and nobody would´ve come to bother you or check on you, but there she was, watching out for you, paying attention. after so many years on your own, day after day of floating around, never being tethered to someone, it was almost overwhelming, to be touched, to be seen, taken care of in some small way. 

you both walked fast, clouds of smoke from your breath in the air, the streets empty, indirect light from a few windows illuminated the snowy road little, “okay almost there” Tess said as you approached their house. she was relieved that it was dark, since it meant Joel wasn´t home yet and she would have hated nothing more than her one on one time with you being cut short. 

once you were inside, she turned on a few smaller lights in favor of the big overhead one, “don´t be shy, make yourself comfortable” gesturing towards the fireplace where a medium sized flame was slowly burning away, the couch only a few feet away from it, “want a drink?” she asked from across the room as she made her way towards the kitchen, “uh, sure yeah” you answered, while scanning the room. it was clear that they´d just moved in, but it was cozy nonetheless, lots of old wooden furniture, a few clothes thrown over the chairs, a few pretty pink flowers on the dining table, probably a housewarming gift from someone. 

you got rid of your jacket and crouched down in front of the fire, warming your hands for a second, feeling the heat on your face, which almost hurt since your body temperature was a sharp contrast, but very shortly after you could feel your cheeks flushing, your hands getting less stiff, your muscles relaxing. as Tess walked back into the room she smiled to herself, the view of you doing that endearing to her, “nice huh?”, she asked, “yeah I think I could fall asleep on the floor right here” you mused as you got up to join her on the couch. she held out a drink to you, which looked better than you´d expected: a few ice cubes, a slice of lemon, you didn´t bother asking what was in it, you just leaned on the armrest of the couch, pulled your legs up onto the cushions and took a big sip as she did the same. you both exhaled at the same time after, “damn, this is better than the drinks at the bar” she was flattered, “well, I´ve learned a thing or two about improvising with whatever ingredients I have access to. she was quicker than you with downing the contents of the glass, clearly not a lightweight, you set yours down too after a few more sips. she had also gotten comfortable, her arm lazily thrown over the back of the couch, an achingly hot pose for her to be in, the way a lot of guys usually sat, it had been a long time since you´d come across a woman like her and it was waking something in you up, slowly but surely.

“you should be careful with being a good host. I might start showing up here more than you´d like. you know, that thing of not feeding stray cats because otherwise they´ll wait on your doorstep every day” she laughed, amused by that comparison, “well, I happen to like cats, so” there was a longer, charged pause after she said that in a tone low enough to make it clear she wasn´t just saying it plainly, that there was a clear double meaning in there. you both just looked at each other, neither of you breaking eye contact, but also not growing nervous either, it was comfortable to share a wordless moment of connection, the light of the fire drenching your facial features in a golden hue, not helping either of you with your painfully intense attraction. “can I ask you a question, and you promise to answer it honestly?” you smiled, tilting your head, “sure” you had nothing to lose, you´d tell her whatever she wanted to hear. “why are you so different with me than with the others?” she asked, a seriousness to it, not letting you off the hook, her eyes remaining on yours.

you thought for a second, the truth seemed simple to you, “well, I like you”. she shook her head, “no, that´s not a good enough answer, try again. I´m not daft, I can tell you like me, what I asking you is why”. you pointed at her then, “well there is one reason, I like that you tell me to do things, that you aren´t timid or weirdly careful with me” she nodded slowly, something dawned on her, “okay I see, you like when I boss you around, huh?”, you shrugged, “perhaps”. she was alert then, her posture shifting to a more upright position, instinctively leaning a bit closer to you since the conversation had turned in a way that was affecting her on a deeper level, “I mean-” you continued, “on a more heartfelt note, when I saw you interacting with people I just felt that there was a strength to you that I´d rarely seen in anyone else, makes me feel at ease. I guess there´s something secure about you, something solid and.. I don´t know calming. I like being around people who are stronger than me, not just physically, I don´t always need to be the tough one in the roomm you know, I really don´t” you leaned your head back against the cushions then, turning to face her, looking up at her, and she was in awe of how your entire physicality had changed, how pretty much all of your walls had come down, you looked almost angelic to her in that moment, she shook her head a little, a gentle smile as she spoke in a quiet voice, “they all got you so wrong, huh?”, “how so?” you asked, remaining in your comfortable position, without hesitation she reached out and caressed your cheek, softly, “you´re such a sweet girl. and they have no idea”. you were entirely hers then, it was done, the feeling of her fingers on your face, the deep affection, the way she´d figured you out completely, you were melting right in front of her, hardly anyone had ever called you sweet, she could see in your face that she´d hit you right in the heart, “not for just anyone” you said, earnestly, weight to her words, wanting her to know it was special for you, to let someone in.

she nodded, her hand still on your face, “you want me to take care of you, hm?”, you nodded, your eyes like you were looking up at a god, pleading for mercy, for light, for love, her whole body was flooded with warmth and not because of the fire, “nobody´s ever given you what you really need, right?”, it was like she was reading you, saying all the deepest most intimate things you´d never dared to express, to anyone, pulling them out of you, she brushed her thumb over your lower lip, watching every last bit of composure leave your spirit. the moment her hand left your skin you looked devastated, a satisfied smile on her face as she leaned back, letting you sit in the feeling that had just crashed over you because of her, before giving you a gentle order, “come here” she said, her hand waving you closer, and the moment she said it you climbed over to her, reaching for her but before you could decide what to do, she already had her hands firmly on the back of your head, eagerly pulling you in for a kiss, fully in control, you didn´t have to do anything but lean into it, her lips warmer and softer than you expected, but a clear force in there, she kenw you didn´t need it to be slow and chaste, she knew you needed it visceral and intense, your hands found her neck as you opened up for her, the kiss turning sloppy and needy in an instant, the taste of her hot and sweet, a residue of liquor on her tongue, you didn´t even try to suppress any sounds as her tight grip slowly turned you into a desperate mess, once you seperated to get some air you just stared at each other, out of breath, skin on fire, faces glowing, eyes lowered like you were fixing prey.

without much time to lose you pulled your shirt over your head, you wanted her to see you, it had been ages since anyone had admired your naked form, and you were dying to give yourself over to her, for someone to make use of your body, to derive pleasure from it, once you were left topless, only your lower half still clothed, Tess felt a deep reverence for you, leaning closer to slowly run her hand from the top of your chest down over your tits, resting it there, marveling at you “god. you´re fucking perfect..”, your breath was shallow, an impatience growing in you, so you closed the distance to kiss her again, feeling her grab your tits rather hard, yet somehow the passion was not enough for you yet even though you were already practically devouring each other, so you pulled away, your lips still apart as you said something you had never said before.

“spit in my mouth” you practically begged her, your tone not playful or provocative but earnest, an urgency to it, she was barely inches from you and realized that you weren´t asking her to degrade you, you were offering up total submission to her, it was something of an honor, to be the sole witness of your surrender, so she placed her hands on the sides of your face, looking down at you, almost cradling your head, your tongue flat, like you were waiting to take communion, she didn´t do it with force or malice, letting her saliva drip into your mouth slow and thick like honey, watching you take it, without any hesitation you closed your mouth and swallowed, it felt natural, right, to try and become one with her like that, to feel some part of her running down your throat, Tess was staring down at you with nothing but pure adoration by that point, she didn´t even have to tease you or edge you to give yourself up, nothing, you had done it out of your own want, which turned her on even more than if she´d had to push you, “such a good girl, aren´t you?” she cooed, fingers in your hair, your hands on her back, your eyes went wide as she said that, it didn´t escape her, that she´d hit gold, “say that again” you pleaded, a smile from her then as she leaned close to your ear, her voice sultry and deep, a whisper “good girl”, one of her hands lower on your body then, your chest flushed from arousal.

“I thought about this all week” you confessed, feeling her mess with the waistband of your jeans, “yeah, what did you do while thinking about me?” she teased as her hand slipped into your underwear, a sharp breath in from you, it was hard to speak, so she pressed further, “something like this?”, her fingers finding your wetness then, getting coated it in, slowly moving them up and down, teasing you, you nodded, moans starting to leave you, “feels better when I do it, hm?”, “yes” you uttered, before another desperate sound escaped you, her movements were steady and skilled, not erratic, creating a delicious ache in your core, your nails starting to dig into her back as she had you pinned to the couch, “please Tess..” you begged, it was clear that you needed more, she could feel her fingers practically dripping from your slickness by that point, so she pushed two of them into you, not too fast, but her fingers were bigger than yours so there was a moment of pain, but you took it, letting her go knuckle deep, she could tell you´d winced a little at first, “look at you, all quiet and behaved” she praised, “you can be louder sweetie, it´s okay” she encouraged, not minding a little whining, you relaxed a little as she started figuring out how best to fuck you, finding a rythm that would suit you, to get you to unravel, a heartfelt “fuck..” from you as she hit a certain spot, she leaned down to kiss your neck then as she kept her fingers at that angle, hitting your weak spot, drinking up all the sweet sounds you were making for her, the scent of your skin driving her crazy as she left kisses all over your throat, easy access since your head was thrown back. 

your moans were turning into cries as you felt yourself throbbing around her fingers, the heat at your core growing more intense each time she pushed into you, the feeling of being trapped beneath her, her lips and teeth on the side of your neck, her hand drawing out a pleasure unlike you´d ever felt, it all left you helpless and shaking in the face of your approaching climax, “fuck Tess” you got out, she could feel you clenching around her fingers, “it´s okay, I got you”, she pulled back to watch you then, a vulnerability to it as your hips moved up more violently, a few harder thrusts into you got you to claw into her back and shudder as you came around her fingers, a deep satisfaction in her as she saw your face twist in pleasure, your mouth open, your hair all messed up; it was all she needed to almost cum herself, that sight, burned into her mind already.

 once your muscles went slack she moved her fingers from inside of you to your clit, a few last lingering touches as you felt the aftershocks of the orgasm until Tess let go of you, slowly moving to her side of the couch, knowing that some people need a little space after they cum, but in that moment, with her, you didn´t; the second you regained some strength you got up and moved over to put your hands on around neck and look at her up close, not a care in the world about the fact that you were still topless, an exhausted but bright smile on your face, she shook her head, hands on your bare waist, “god, you´re fucking killing me..” she admitted, you cocked your head, “am I? I haven´t even returned the favor yet” you said, a grin, “no need, I got what I wanted, trust me”, she said, caressing you, “makes two of us then” you whispered before kissing her again, slower than before, a laziness to it, it was late, you were both tired, but blissed out, content, holding onto each other. 

after a moment she urged you to put your shirt back on, not wanting you to get cold, even though she missed your skin the second she moved her hand away from your back. once you were dressed again you came back to your senses a little, a giddiness to you then, both of you almost shy for a second, laughing at the same time, sitting there next to each other, a little in disbelief, “you know having no friends and no relatives around here has its perks, I won´t have to justify this to anyone” you joked, she raised her eyebrows, “well good on you sweetheart, me on the other hand, I doubt Joel would love to explain to his brother that the friend that he vouched for is messing around with the girls here”, you feigned shock, “girls? i´m one of many, huh?” she laughed, “you know what I mean”, you nodded, “sure, I get it, you could try blaming it on me, just say I relentlessly pursued you”, “right, so kind of the truth, hm?” she teased, “fuck off” you said, pushing her in the side, but smiling still, “you were the one who showed up late at night, not me” she couldn´t argue with that, “right”, “I mean, not that I´m complaining, do it again any time you want please”, she nodded, smiling “if you insist”. you both just sat there for a moment, absentmindedly holding hands, until you realized how late it had gotten and that Joel must be getting home soon, “I should probably go, I doubt you wanna explain this to your roomie”, an ironic emphasis on the last word, she laughed, “right, no, let´s save that for another time.”

Tess wished she could have told you to stay, but she knew it would have been awkward as hell for all three of you to be in the same house, so she let you get up to go put on your jacket and shoes, watching you from the couch. before you could leave, you went back over to her once more to lean down and kiss her goodbye, a tender gesture that you wouldn´t have just done for a hook up and she could tell, still in awe of how willing you were to be like that with her, “I´l see you tomorrow then?” she asked, obviously counting on it, “yes, and if not I´ll find you”, she caressed your cheek “good. but have a good night first, sleep well”, you turned to leave as you said “you too. and thank you, for.. well everything”, feeling her loving gaze on your back as you went outside, the cold air hitting you in the face so hard you didn´t even realize that Joel was approaching the house until you were only a few feet away from him,, too lost in your feelings for Tess to feel embarrassed or weird about it, giving him a nod, he suppressed a grin, opting for a polite smile instead as he made his way past you up the stairs, “have a good rest of the night” he said, “yeah, you too!” you answered, barely aware of his presence as the feeling of Tess all over you was still clouding your mind. 

the moment he walked through the door, Tess was a little scared of his reaction to having seen you come out of their house at that hour, but he dropped his jacket over a chair and said “well you sure as hell didn´t waste any time, huh?, his tone giving away that he was amused, relief washing over Tess as he flopped down onto the couch next to her, that familiar groan from him at the end of a long day. “so I take it this is your way of telling me you´re okay with me having her over?” she asked, eyeing him, he realized she´d been unsure whether he´d be mad or not, it was a funny thought to him, since Tess was so rarely timid around him, “I don´t mind, you can have her here. I mean, she´s not bad to look at, so I won´t complain”, she shot him a glare “you keep your eyes to yourself when she´s here, got it?” he laughed, “god that poor girl has no idea what she´s in for, with your possessive ass”.

she grinned, “oh please, she loves it”, he considered it, stretching out his legs, getting comfortable, “guess she does. man, you really found your match in her, huh? you two are a bit insane for this, but hey, I respect it, gotta find joy one way or another” she could tell he meant it, “exactly. maybe you should give it a try too, I saw at least a handful of women turning to look back at you the past few days” he shook his head, “no, thank you. I´ll leave the midlife thing of dating young girls to you”, shedidn´t fight him on it, “fine, I´m better at it anyway” she teased back, “judging from that smile that was frozen on that girl´s face you might actually be right”, she liked hearing that, “oh really?”, he nodded, “you should feel really good about yourself my friend, two weeks here and you already cracked the supposedly toughest one of them all” she leaned back, closing her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the fire and the familiar vibe with Joel and the memory of you, thinking about how only she had gotten to see your true core, that beautiful look on your face, only for her. she knew she´d have to show you just how grateful she was for making her arrival in Jackson that much better than she had dared to hope for.

Tess was not a spiritual person, but somehow it did seem like fate of some sort, that you two had ended up in the same place and understood each other so instinctively, that both of you slept much better that night knowing someone else in that town would always see you for who you really were. 

#I was just messing around with this idea but I ended up liking it so here you go <3 #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #anna torv