#like yes i made a mistake but it was never my intention to hurt u and i said sorry many times and i MEANT it

[totebagbisexual]

my toxic trait is if ur mad at me i’ll do my best to be understanding and recognize where i was wrong and apologize but if ur still mad at me after that i will go fucking crazy

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ For Reasons Unknown...

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Unexpected Surprises

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

aughable.  

Sinister 

Dangerous 

Insane 

All of these words float through Frank’s mind as he stares at his former best friend. Mike sat across from him, plexiglass separating them. He could barely recognize him. After talking with Andy, who was not happy about this visit, Mike was in the process of being disciplined by the California and Massachusetts BARs. The law firm he was working at had already dismissed him. Natasha Romanoff had personally contacted Abby and himself with apologies. Probably trying to avoid a lawsuit for malpractice. But Frank wasn’t worried about any of that.  His sleepless nights made him come to one conclusion: let Mike Weiss know he was never going to hurt his family again.  Mike laughed when he saw Frank sitting there. When Frank picked up the phone, so did he.  

“Hi Mike.” 

“Hello, homewrecker.”  

Frank had to swallow the anger. He needed answers.  Answers that only Mike could provide. But he didn’t know what to say.  

“What? Got nothing to say?” Mike taunted him. “I’m locked up and you are with my cheating good for nothing whore of an ex-fiancé.”  

Frank narrowed his eyes. “Don’t call her that.”  

Mike scoffed. “I’ll call her whatever the fuck I want. Abby left me for you. I know you two were sleeping together before she broke it off with me. I’m just calling a spade, a spade.” 

“Look, it wasn’t intentional, ok?”   

“Not intentional. Bullshit. You were upset that I got the girl.” Mike smirked. “I had you beat.”  

“And yet, she still came back to me.” The smile dropped on Mike’s face as Frank’s grin grew. “She has always been mine. We just found our way back to each other. And now we have a family with my Mary.”  

The mention of Mary draws a snarl of from Mike.  “What the fuck do you want?” 

“I just have one question.”  

“Which is?” 

“Why? Why did you let Diane into your home and attack Abby? Why did you kidnap my daughter?” 

Abby sat on the cold metal chair across from Diane. She was just like how she remembered her. Before the attack, before she abandoned Mary. Before she was with Mike.  Her hair was longer, the long blonde stands pulled away from her face. Abby assumed her face would be hallow from being on the run but no, her cheeks were full.  The only thing that made her think this was a different Diane from her childhood was her eyes.  Her eyes were sad, full of remorse, sorrow, guilt.  She noted that Diane was cuffed to the table, and she was able to relax her shoulders a bit.  

“Hi Diane,” she greeted softly.  

“Abby. I’m surprised to see you here.”  

“Yeah, me too.” Abby looked down.  “How- How are you?” 

Diane cocked her head with curiosity at her question. “I’m ok. They put me on meds and my head is clear.”  Diane chewed her bottom lip. “How’s Frank?” 

“He’s good. A little sad.”  

“Sad?” 

“Because he lost his sister.”  Abby looked at her sadly. “You have no idea the damage you have done to him. To Mary. To me.”  She gave a hard look. “Why Diane? Why him?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.”  Diane leaned back.  

“Try me. Because he manipulated me to be with him and I lost five years with the love of my life.”  

Diane looked away.  

Rage took over Mike’s face.  “Mary is MINE! I’ll prove it, you motherfucker.”  

“You can’t have her,” Frank said calmly. “She is mine and I won’t give up fighting for her.  I’m her father. And you are nothing but her sperm donor.  You raped my sister and left her when she was pregnant. You told my baby sister to abort her baby.  You don’t have any right to call yourself Mary’s father.”  

“Well obviously she didn’t,” Mike sneered. “I will do everything I can to take away Mary from you. Your life will be hell, I promise you that."  

“You’ll do shit! Why did you attack my wife?”  

“I owe you nothing Adler.” Mike leaned back. “I’ll take that one to the grave.”  

Frank stood up. “Fine, don’t tell me. Abby is in Boston, seeing Diane.  We’ll get the answers we are looking for. See you at trial.”  He hung up and could see Mike screaming at him through the glass.  Guards came over to restrain him.  

Frank was disappointed.  Not so much as not getting the answers he wanted but because his friend was now a drugged out mess, not even a piece of the good man he once knew remained.  Frank had his driver take him back to the airport. He needed to hug his daughter. 

“I always had a crush on Mike. He was my brother’s best friend. Older guy. Forbidden.” Diane gave a sad smile. “I didn’t think I had a chance in hell. But one day he noticed me. You and my brother were so wrapped up in each other and I didn’t notice how obsessed Mike was with you.”   

“Did he... did he take advantage?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “He talked and touched my face so sweet.  He spent days with me when you guys started dating. He told me I was beautiful and he... he could see a future with me.”  A single tear fell from her eye. “I believed him.”  

Abby took in a shuddering breath. “Why were you in my house?” 

“Mike came back into my life. He found me in Seattle and said that he found a way for us to be together. That he knew who made me like this. He gave me a shot and when I woke up, I was in a hotel.” 

“You don’t remember?” Abby frowned. “Anything?” 

Diane shook her head.  “No. I know what happened because the police told me.”  

Abby sat back. She looked at Antonio, who had a look of sadness. “I’m sorry that happened to you Diane.  Thank you for talking with me.”  She stood up with Andy and Antonio following her lead. “I’ll see you later.”  

Diane sobbed and Andy took a hold of Abby to stop her from comforting Diane.  He led her out and once outside, Abby collapsed into her brother’s arms, crying for the pain her friend had endured.  

Abby was quiet the entire flight home.  Andy kept glancing at her as she sat with her eyes closed.  He sent a message to Frank 

A: It was bad  F: Fuck, is she ok?  A: I think so. The story Diane told was heartbreaking  F: Has Cricket said anything?  A: No.  F: OK, I’ll see you when you land 

At the airport, Abby and Andy made their way out,with Andy guiding her around.  She was staring at the ground when she heard, “hey Cricket.” She looked up to see Frank standing at the door, a single pink rose in his hand.  She dropped the bag and ran into his arms, wrapping her legs around him. The sobs that she had contained from Boston to LA came spilling out. “Baby, its ok, its all gonna be ok.” He kissed her head.  

Andy walked over with Abby’s dropped bag. “Hey Frank.”  

“Thank you, Andy, for flying back with her.”  

“Not a problem, had some stuff to finish in our LA office.” He shrugged. “Is it still ok to stay with you?” 

“Course man. Let’s get you guys home.” He set Abby down, grabbed her bag and walked her and Andy to the car. Arriving home, Abby raced inside, still nothing spoken. Frank and Andy exchanged a look before heading inside. It was early, the house still calm. Abby stood in the doorway of her daughter’s bedroom. She watched for a moment, Mary sleeping in her bed, Dodger at her feet. A single tear slides down her face.  The tragic story of her conception, how her parents didn’t love her enough, that Frank and Abby had to pick up the pieces and love a girl that was not their own. But Abby did love, she loved that little girl with everything she had. As she stared, her only thought was ‘Her baby girl was safe.’  Carefully, she crawled into the bed with her.  Mary turned into Abby and sighed happily, her unconscious state recognizing that Abby was cuddling with her.  

When Frank looked in, his heart clenched at the sight of mother and children in bed together. Abby had quickly fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around Mary.  Not one to miss out on a snuggle, Frank kicked off his shoes and climbed in as well, wrapped his arms around his family and went back to sleep. 

Mike was extradited to Massachusetts the following week and was charged with kidnapping and child endangerment. He pled not guilty and decided to represent himself.  He hadn’t been disbarred yet. “There is nothing else we can do right now,” Andy explained. “The protection order is already in place. Now we just have to wait.”  

Frank returned to the team, working on winning the division. Their final challenge was a familiar foe: the San Francisco Giants. Facing Mike’s new best friend, Bobby, would be difficult but as long as Frank kept his mouth shut, it would be fine.  A three game series in September was the epitome of baseball.  A time for summer to end and fall to take over.  

The first two games were uneventful as Bobby was out with a bruised knee.  But he was cleared to play for the Sunday finale.  The Dodgers needed the win in order to avoid a playoff and win the division.  It was a beautiful September Sunday, perfect weather for a game.  Abby, Scott, Steve and Mary were in the family box, watching their favorite player take the field.  San Francisco was up at bat first.  

Frank concentrated on the batter.  Of course, it was Fuller. Johnny ended up walking him and he jogged over to first base. Frank scowled but kept his mouth shut.  

“Sup Adler.” Fuller smiled. “Long time no talk.”  Frank said nothing.  “What? You’re not going to talk to me. That’s mature.”  

“I’m not talking to you because I don’t want to get kicked out of this game or end up in jail.” Frank turned away from Fuller and concentrated on the game.  The next batter popped a fly ball, and the second baseman was able to turn it into a double play.  Fuller headed back into the dugout, a smirk on his face.  

Frank rolled his eyes and went back to the game.  A few innings later Bobby was back on first base after hitting a ground ball to left field. “You still mad that Abby left you?” 

“Nope.”  

Fuller watched him carefully.  “You know it wasn’t personal for me Frankie Boy. Mike just said the right things at the right time.”  

“Is that right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.  Then maybe you can explained why he let my drugged out sister in his home with Abby and let her beat the crap outta her? Or the fact that he kidnapped my daughter.”  Frank got right into Bobby’s face, causing the first base coach to try to intervene.  “Can you explain how you let that psycho near my family, and yet you feel nothing?!” He shoved Bobby to the ground.  “Fuck you and fuck him!  I will have my day in court where I take that son of a bitch down.  And I’ll take you down with him if you speak to me or go near me and family again.” Frank shook off Johnny who was holding in back.  

“You’re gone Adler,” the umpire said.  

Frank walked without causing another scene.  In the locker room, he threw his hat and glove in rage.  “FUCK!”  He grasped the table to try and calm himself.  

“Frankie?” 

Frank whipped around to see Abby in the doorway.  “Cricket, I...” 

“Are you ok?” She cut him off.  

He shook his head. “No. Fuller, he... fuck, he got to me Cricket.  How could he do it?  How could he help that fucker hurt you and Mary. He was my best friend on the team and he...” Frank finally broke down and cried into Abby’s shoulder. He had been so strong for so long. Abby stroked his back and let him come to terms with the truth.  

“Baby, you have been our rock this year. Let it out, ok?” 

 “I love you, Cricket, so much.”  

“I love you too, Frankie.” 

As the family made it home, Frank’s cell rang. “It’s Andy.”  Scott ushered Mary to her room as Abby and Frank answered the call.  “Hey Andy.”  

“Hi Frank.  Is Abby with you?” 

“I’m here.”  

“Ok good.”  he sighed. “Mike was given bail and he made it. He’ll be released by tomorrow.”  

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled.  

“That’s not the worst of it. He’s filed a motion to block the adoption.”  

“What?” Abby whispered. “Why?” 

“Just like we thought. On the grounds that he is Mary’s natural father and has not given up his rights. The motion states that the block is to allow time for him to sue for custody. There is a court date in a week from Monday on the motion.”  

“We'll fight,” Frank said.  “We’ll find a way show the courts that he is an unfit father and to make him go away. I refuse to let that son of a bitch tear apart this family.” 

“Frankie...” Abby started  

“No Abigail. I’m not gonna stop until we have that paperwork that says to the world that Mary is ours, just like she’s been since she was born.”  

NEXT

Taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@bunnyforhim

[the100thballoon]

ik no one asked for my take and like two people will say it but i do have some Thoughts (in no particular order) as a bystander who never watched miranda sings and had never heard the name colleen ballinger until yesterday.

it doesn't matter if her intentions were to groom adam and the other children involved. it doesn't matter whether her goal was to find support or to find victims. her intentions do not matter here. her intentions are not part of the equation. the issue is that she did do what she did and say what she said, and children are impressionable, and if an adult that they look up to and admire starts talking to them about things that an adult should never talk about to a child? the child learns that those conversations and those actions and those occurrences are Normal and Fine and even Good because it involves an adult i trust and they would never do anything to hurt me! regardless of colleen's intentions, her actions teach children that these things are okay and normal, which makes them exponentially more vulnerable to people who most certainly DO have bad intentions. and that is the definition of grooming- making someone more vulnerable to future abuse. and that is what colleen did. so no, it's not a toxic gossip train, we don't care about your intentions. the issue is your actions.

"she's a narcissist and a rat! i would never make a mistake like that!" no, babe, we wouldn't make a mistake like that. would you like to know why? because we are not pedophiles. we are not attention-seeking adult women who seek validation solely from children who are too naive to recognize the immaturity and inappropriateness of our behavior.

"i know that you wanted me to say that i was 100% in the wrong, well i'm sorry, i'm not going to take that route" do you know the definition of the word accountability

yes, absolutely people can make mistakes and still be good people. but what distinguishes them as good people? they acknowledge their error. they take steps to resolve it and to achieve restoration for everyone affected. they apologize. they speak about it clearly and specifically. they do not defend themselves and accuse people of harassing them. they do not blatantly refuse to assume responsibility. they do not claim to focus on facts and then speak entirely in shadowy metaphors over a ukulele playing G for ten minutes.

gurl u should've listened to your team when they told u not to do this. no one is sitting there applauding going "omg that's literally so smart the way they told her not to say it but then she sang it??? brooo" i hope that if you're not gonna let your team do their job (which you have now made exponentially more difficult) you are at least giving them some hEFTY pto.

overall this is absolutely wild like no way a grown woman with children made "Hi (10-Minute Version) (Colleen's Version) (From The Vault)" sitting on her couch with a ukulele while singing about trains

[albenyx]

Hello im not sure if u are accepting request but huhu i hope there's thoma and ayato ver of that "love made me crazy"❤❤ i loveeee ur work!!!!! Tyyyyy

Love made me crazy

characters — ayato, thoma x fatui!reader

warnings: not proofread, grammatical errors, slight angst if u squint, also probably sucks and ayato is probs ooc

note: yes hello!! thank you for loving my work i try<33 thank you for the request as well bc omg i was just thinking about these two and i hope this meets your expectations sob

part one (diluc & kaeya)

stupid. that's what they felt, something was off about you that they knew, but they thought you'd be different

that you'd be gentle with their heart, making sure to take care of it. But you were here, in front of them, with a sword that's probably going to be used to assassinate them.

betrayal was something they weren't new to, they were aware it's possible to happen, how foolish of them to think that someone would love them for them— wait..

are you pointing your weapon in front of your own allies..?

— AYATO

ayato knew the moment you approached him there was a catch, amused by your confidence to approach the yashiro commissioner himself, he thought it wouldn't hurt to humor you HAH HE THOUGHT

getting side tracked with his goal, he in fact fell in love with you during the process of gaining your trust in exchange for his. it wasn't his intention, he just couldn't help it, you were incredible in his eyes, and so he fell for you.

that was a mistake, a huge mistake in his part, because here you stand in front of him with fatui agents behind you. betrayed, you betrayed him he thinks, noticing how you had a strong grip on your weapon

funny.. and here i thought i could trust you.

"[name] How could you-!" one of the guards that accompanied the commissioner speaks before pausing hesitantly "not to worry, i'll handle it." ayato murmurs to them, pulling out his sword

"what you did is certainly unforgivable, and i will not tolerate such dirty behavior even if you are— were my lover."

"i'm afraid you're gonna have to forgive me on this one, ayato."

just as ayato put his emotions to the side and prepared himself for a battle between the two of you, he finds himself dumbfounded at the scene of you pointing your weapon towards your allies with a dark look on your face

an agent attempts to strike you, and you barely managed to dodge the attack as you were pointing your weapon on another agent, and that's when a fight had began in front of the commissioner who looked like he was still processing the situation

he instantly snaps out of it at the sound of two weapons clashing, ayato sees you holding your weapon with both hands as an agent attempts to choke you with their own weapon that had ayato commanding the guards with him to assist you, before he himself comes to your rescue.

"thank you"

"i'd like an explanation later"

— THOMA

thoma never saw this coming, you looked so innocent, and so open that he never expected you to be one of the fatui never judge a book by its cover, sorry

but you stood there in front of him with a look on your face that he had never seen before was it all a lie? am I that stupid?

he wanted, he begged the archons that this was just a misunderstanding and that you weren't preparing your weapon to attack him, he hoped that there was a reason, a good one or that you were blackmailed into doing this

though as much as thoma would like to lie to himself about the situation, you were there, this is real, everything that's happening right now is real.

"[name]?" thoma could only stare at you disappointingly, scanning your face for any signs of fear, or explanation but you seemed unreadable as you turned to look away

he notices your grip on your weapon, tense, you're tense he realises and he couldn't feel any more relieved when you swing your sword to an agent attempting a surprise attack that almost backfired as a shield appears

looking towards Thoma you see him look at you in relief, before he runs towards you while signaling to the guards (that had been standing the whole time thoma processed the situation) to assist you both

"thank archons! you're—"

"yes I know, i'm sorry sunshine. but I'll explain myself after this okay?"

[leahblackk]

I have not sent in a request jn like 6 years but okay -

something maybe a lil big angsty but like spencer is being over the top sarcastic with reader. maybe they’re in an argument over his job or something some argument and Spencer is just being very rude and sarcastic to the point where reader can’t tell if it’s a joke or not, and in the midst of their argument spencer is called away on a case, and comes home to see reader has left. (if u wanna fluff it up at the end he can apologize profusely and they can cuddle it out but up to you leah bc your mind is genius)

Hurtful words

(Not my gif)

Summary: a little blurb by my local amazing ideas giver, Alex. Let’s all say thank you Alex for this idea.

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: Spencer being a little shit. And mentions of being injured because of gunshot. And many mistakes I’m sorry :)

Oh my god yes! I feel like I haven’t done a blurb in years. Your blurb ideas are the ones that keep me going. And you are the genius!! Your ideas are extremely amazing and I’m happy I can make them true <3

Spencer Reid.

What a mystery that man was.

Y/n met Spencer as a sweet young man with glasses and cute jumpers. A man who didn't catch certain social things. He didn’t understood sarcasm in certain occasions or indirect messages or double intentions. Of course, he knew what it was, but he didn’t know how to act with it or how to use it.

Until he learned how to be passive-aggressive.

The first time Y/n ever saw Spencer being passive-aggressive with someone was with JJ when the Lauren/Emily thing happened. Spencer, of course, was very mad about it. JJ was his best friend, the person he most trusted besides his girlfriend. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t know. It wasn’t like he was going to tell anyone! He had the right to know that his friend whom he loved so much wasn’t buried five feet underground! He cried on his girlfriend floor for hours, and when he was too embarrassed by her looking at him, he went to JJ’s house. She saw him, she saw him crying his eyes out for her and she didn’t say a damn thing! Of course he was going to be mad.

Y/n never thought she had to worry about him being like that with her.

Spencer always has been a sweet man. But he isn’t when he’s under stress, mad or sad. The pressure over him made his IQ of 187 slashed to 63. He couldn’t think straight. And Spencer never worried about him being like that with his girlfriend. He didn’t had any reasons to be. She was all nice to him and cared about him.

But now, things changed while they were fighting in their shared apartment.

Y/n has been injured on a case after being reckless, or that was the way his boyfriend thought, but to be honest she saved a life, even if that got her hurt. She didn’t care. She would do it again. And that petrified Spencer.

Even if her doctor told her she could go back to the field. Spencer wasn’t going to have any of it. That was why they were fighting. Neither of them liked to deal with strong emotions. He wanted to say he didn’t want her to be there because he was scared he was going to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She was his everything. His glue putting him together when the world tried to bring him down and shatter his heart. She was the thing that keeps him going. But instead of saying that, he was treating her badly and Y/n on her side wasn’t going to have any of it.

“Why can’t you understand, Spencer? I’m not a child. I can perfectly take care of myself.” She said putting her clothes on her go-bag while Spencer took them out.

He chuckled, “Perfectly take care of yourself? Yeah of course I believe you. When did you take care of yourself? When you put yourself in front of the unsub and he shot you? Yeah, Y/n, that’s taking care of yourself.”

She frowned.

That hurt.

“Excuse Spencer but you’re not no one to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your boyfriend!” He said, hurt.

“And? That doesn’t give you any right to tell me what to do. I’m a grown-up, Reid. If you didn’t notice. I’m not a child you can take care of.”

“Sometimes I think you are, you know?” He then looked at her, “You act worse than a child sometimes. Being so reckless and putting yourself in danger.”

“Like you haven’t done that yourself either.”

“I have! But I knew what I was doing. You weren’t thinking!”

“When is gonna be the day you understand you can’t tell me what to do?”

“When you stop being so reckless and actually take care of yourself,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “But apparently that’s not happening.”

She sighed with anger and looked at him. Throwing a shirt over his face and going downstairs to the kitchen to drink water and calm herself. Spencer followed her and entered the kitchen taking a glass of water as well.

She didn’t even look at him. He wanted her looking at him. He wanted to feel those eyes on him even if they were full of anger.

So he made it in the wrong way.

“And you said you’re not a child,” he murmured referring to her throwing the shirt on his face.

“What was that?” She turned around and look at him.

“You perfectly heard it, Y/n.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one calling me a child. Look at you,” she moved her hands up and down in front of him to make a point, “I’m going to that case you like it or not.”

“I wouldn’t risk the team to be with you on the case. They might end it up injured with your recklessness.”

Silence.

The words Spencer throw made echo in both lovers ears.

Reid bit his bottom lip regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Trying to take them back but the damage was already done.

Y/n looked at him without any emotion. Until her eyes start to burn and the tears came out. She lifted her hand with anger and wiped them off feeling her cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

Spencer looked at her and his heart ached. Why did he said that? She was a great agent. He was just scared of losing her and if by telling her that stuff, she would stay home safe, he would do it. But he regretted it now. He regretted it so much.

She chuckled without any humour and licked her bottom lip, tears coming down her face again.

But she let them now. Too tired.

Spencer’s first instinct was to step forward to her, but she stayed back putting her hands in front of him, to stop him.

She didn’t want to be touched by him.

He looked down.

He spends his life touching her. Loving her and worshipping her body. Touching her soft skin with soft moves, carefully not wanting to break her as she was a porcelain doll. But now, she didn’t want to be touched by him.

And Spencer understood.

He did.

It was all his fault at the end of the day. He made her stayed back when he wanted to pull her in. It was his fault. “I don’t want you to touch me,” she murmured and passed him taking her arms close to her so they wouldn’t brush his skin.

Spencer’s tears came down now.

I don’t want you to touch me.

She didn’t want him to touch her.

But all he wanted to do was touch her and let her know he didn’t mean those words. How could he? She was perfect in everything she did, her job included. Mostly her job.

Spencer didn’t notice how much time had passed while he stood frozen in the middle of their kitchen until he felt his phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket. It was Morgan.

Hey Spencer. I know you love your girlfriend so much but we have to hurry! People are dying you know? Not everything is vanilla and roses like you two.

Spencer chuckled. Only if he knew.

He went upstairs with careful moves while he pressed his palms together trying to stop the trembling. He mostly did.

All her clothes were now in the closet, her go-bag as well. She wasn’t going to the case. It wasn’t a surprise. He knew he would achieve what he wanted after saying that. But now it didn’t felt right.

He moved closer to where she was. On their shared bed. He sat down. He was about to open his mouth to say something but she did it first. “Please don’t say anything. You have said enough and I think your thoughts are very clear,” her voice sounds broken. And was all his fault, “Just go. Tell the team I haven’t made full recovery yet.”

He nodded even if she couldn’t see him because she was hiding under the blankets.

What Spencer didn’t notice was the way after saying those words, her hands end it up on her mouth trying the sobs not to come out. She knew if Spencer heard those he would stay with her, even if they just argued. It was Spencer at the end of the day.

He would do anything for her.

Spencer full of guilty took his go-bag and walked directly to the door, looking at her once more.

He wanted to ask.

He needed to know.

You’re gonna be here when I come back?

You’re gonna still be here when I come back?

But the words never left his mouth. They got stuck on his throat. The pain and the tears as well. He needs to say he still loved her. That no matter what he still loved her. He loves her.

He-

He loves her.

But he couldn’t. So he turned around, and left.

When the front door closed Y/n finally let the sobs out.

…

The young doctor tried to avoid all the questions on why he was so grumpy and distracted.

The answer to those questions was “I just had a huge fight with the love of my life and I’m worried she leaves while I’m here. Even if she have every right to I’m still scared because she’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

But of course, he didn’t said it.

He just dismissed everything saying he didn’t have good sleep which didn’t make things better because later on, he was going to be teased by Emily and Morgan.

And when the case was finally closed, he ran to the closest flower shop to buy her favourite flowers and then he went to her favourite restaurant to get her favourite food to then ran to the metro all the way to their shared apartment.

He tried to manage to open the door with all the things in his hand but he couldn’t so he put his satchel and the flowers on the wooden floor, and he was about to put the food as well but then he thought about the germs even if the food was protected, so he put it above his satchel and he was finally able to open the door.

The lights were off which wasn’t weird of her. She wasn’t a lover of the lights of the apartment, always reminding Spencer that they needed to change them as they were too bright, but they never had time to do so, but that was exactly what Spencer was going to do tomorrow.

He then took off his shoes and put them next to the others, but her shoes weren’t there which was weird but he didn’t think too much about it. Maybe she forgot to take them off.

Spencer, then, open the door, even more, to put all the things inside of the house. He put his satchel on the little table next to the shoes and his keys as well.

Her keys weren’t there.

Spencer’s heart stopped.

Her keys weren’t there.

He breathed in and out softly trying to calm his desperate heart beating faster and faster on his chest wanting to get out. He put his palms together trying to stop the trembling but this time was impossible.

He took the flowers with him and went upstairs closing the front door behind him and he open the door of their shared bedroom.

She wasn’t there.

She-

She wasn’t there.

Where did she go?

Did she leave?

No.

No.

“No,” Spencer whispered the tears coming down his eyes.

She wouldn’t. Even if she was mad. She wouldn’t do that as everyone else did without any more explanation than a letter or a note.

A letter.

He needed to find the letter.

He searched on their bed and the tables beside their side of the bed. He didn’t look in their closet or bathroom because she wouldn’t leave that there.

Spencer went downstairs to the kitchen looking for the letter on the dining table and outside of the refrigerator. But there was none.

He, then walked to the living room looking and moving things making a mess.

He needed to read the letter.

She must have left a letter.

Everyone else left a letter.

And the door open but he didn’t heard it because of his desperation and the sound of his heartbeat making echo in his hears

He needed to find the letter.

He turned around and she saw her. Standing there with a sundress and her hair tied. She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful, but she had a frown on her face looking with confusion at her surroundings, the mess he just made and then back to Spencer repeatedly.

And then he understood he needed to explain himself. “I-I,” he looked down and closed his eyes full of tears for a few seconds. She saw the trembling on his hands. She made a step forward from instinct but then she stopped as she remembers what happened between them. He looked up at her. He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth but she waited for him to talk, patiently while he tried to find the correct words. “I came here right away. Well not right away because I went first to the flower shop and then to your favourite restaurant,” he rambled looking at her. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t have any intention to stop him. Instead, she listens carefully. She always listens, “you weren’t at home and I’ve been nervous all these past days because I thought you would leave, and you had every right to and then I came back here and you weren’t and I looked for a-a note or letter.”

Her heart shattered.

People that left his life always left a note or a letter. She remembers when he told her that.

“I didn’t leave,” he nodded. She didn’t. She stayed. “Penelope called me and she needed help with something and then she asked me if I knew why you were acting so weird and I talked to her for a while and I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry.”

He shocked his head. Stepping forward to her. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have treated you so badly and I want you to understand that I didn’t mean a single word because you are so great and so amazing in everything you do. I would never mean those words,” now was her turn to nodded, “I just said that because after you being injured, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself or even get killed. I’m selfish, yeah I know that. But you’re my everything, Y/n. Without you, I don’t know what will I do, you’re the only one who keeps me together and the one who brings light to my darkness. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he took her hands looking for permission first, “I said those things because I knew you would stay home, but I didn’t mean them I swear I didn’t.”

She nodded again and hugged him. He sobbed while he hugged her as his life depends on it. “I know. It’s okay love. I won't leave you I promise,” she sobbed too. “I love you.”

“I love you more, so so much.”

And they held each other while they sobbed and repeat those three little words back and forth.

They were home now.

They were okay now.

[tojisun]

Thank you for blessing us with this🙇🏻‍♀️. Following your blog and your journey is definitely worth it. I had so much reflections I’m sorry. You dont have to read this, I just wanted to let this all out because I have to move on. I cant be in an extremely horny state but come back to HWB to cry myself to sleep instead. I have to give your other works some love too!

I JUST WANNA SAY I LOVE THE PART THREE.

I was always searching for the angst. I wanted to get revenge. It wasn’t fair that Y/N had to go through massive shits before finding Satoru. Not when Toji is making memories with his wife as if he didn’t ruin a life.

I wanted Toji to hurt. I want him to realize that he made a the wrong decision.

But when I read the part 3 I was stunned.

They were all victims of fate.

None of them wanted to hurt anyone. Mamaguro never wanted to ruin Toji’s current relationship. I wasn’t being fair when I didn’t want her and Toji to end up together. She just wanted her family.

Toji was a lost and misguided boy who grew up and found comfort in Mamaguro. He didn’t want to hurt Y/N but he didn’t know what to do. When Mamaguro left he was constantly searching for the same comfort (probably a maternal comfort) and he found a piece of that in Y/N but the problem is she was Y/N and he haven’t moved on.

Y/N was an angel who loved the wrong guy a little too much. But didn’t we all. Toji was her awakening that not every relationship is rainbows and butterflies. Relationship hurts. Love hurts. Love demanded pain and pain demanded to be felt. It’s not love if you didn’t get hurt. But with Satoru. Satoru was her great love. She loved Satoru with the lessons that she learned with her relationship with Toji.

Satoru is a knight. If Y/N is Toji’s anchor, Satoru is Y/N’s Y/N (i hope u got that) he was Y/N’s star who lit up her dark world little by little, piece by piece.

I think the whole HWB is beautiful. People think love is like being in cloud nine but HWB brought the real world. The real harsh world. The ending ended my search for angst. It woke me up and made me realize that this is what actually happens. Sometimes the best and only thing you can do is wish them well and move on.

-🍪

[how we break masterlist]

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY, GENUINELY JUST TEARING UP AT SUCH KIND WORDS, 🍪-ANON! it’s all bits exciting and warming and heart-filling to receive such support!

(i still cannot stop laughing at the horny part. please, it’s making me giggle nonstop.)

and yes to everything!

mamaguro and toji’s relationship was steadfast and strong. it wasn’t meant to stay with them broken apart. it is painful for the reader to have toji leave her, yes, but it never was what toji needed. and it was unfair to reader for her to stay as a rebound.

while toji was with the reader, he was healed from mamaguro’s absence, yes, but he was not whole. and he would never be. so when she came back, he was pieced back up in her hands. and it had to happen by leaving the reader.

as for the reader, toji was when she realized that hard work and pure love alone doesn’t always mean happiness. that sometimes, her love is not enough or that it is not what’s meant to be. and it’s a painful realization, but pain has always been a great teacher for many.

satoru’s character in hwb is someone i really love. i don’t think he is a knight, per se, but he is a boulder. a wall. an anchor, just like you said! unlike a knight, satoru really wasn’t the one who saved the reader from her pain, he was just there to help her through it. and there’s nothing less about that!

the person who saved the reader from her pain was herself! she didn’t rely on satoru because she was not going to do the same mistake that toji had done with her, and that was to find healing from someone else.

which is why satoru was patient despite his friends’ remarks! he knew the reader’s intentions and deeply loved and cherished her for that. as satoru doesn’t know how to truly love, to see his first love protect him that way made him love her more.

thus, satoru is yn’s yn indeed! he was her anchor because he steadied her and helped her, silent and just being there as she found herself through her own will.

im so thankful for your support and love and kind words. this made me so so happy and just warmed me so much i’m like hiccuping from happy tears dhwkdjek take care 🍪-anon <333

[awsuntanz]

a ramble about helium chapter 4 (and dakota’s wonderful characterization)

its 4am, forgive me for any mistakes. i’ve never written anything like this before, aha.

All of these quotes are from Chapter 4 of @heytherestilinski‘s fic Helium!

The way Dakota (the author) fleshes out conflict and allows their painfully realistic characterization to shine is so...perfect. I find myself heavily relating to Dream, George, and even Sapnap at times. 

Here are some lines that I didn’t think would stick out to me (but did):

After a quiet moment, to his soaring heart’s approval, George speaks up again.

This entire kitchen scene portrays that feeling of having a conversation with someone who matters to you. Whether it would classify as something important to someone else or not is irrelevant- to you, in that moment, it feels like you’re holding the world. It’s soft, and tender. You don’t want it to fall flat. You don’t want to let it go. (This scene may or may not have encouraged me to say goodnight to a special someone I was thinking of while reading this).

Sapnap dumps the responsibility of the cart back onto Dream. As he walks past him, he says, “You suck at flirting.”

I really enjoyed the stupid banter between Dream and Sapnap at the grocery store. It not only served as some nice comic relief that kept our guard down before the conflict at the end of the chapter, but it’s also something us readers would definitely hear from (and say to) our friends in real life. Good comic relief is something that eases us in naturally and allows us to immerse ourselves and enjoy the moment while maintaining that element of surprise that keeps us interested :)

He turns away from Dream. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Dream may be less controlled in his emotions and impulses, but he is very open in sharing them. George has more of a filter on everything. Controlled. Not wanting to push Dream (or maybe even himself) off the edge.

“You wanted to this morning,” he says, low.

“Yeah, because we were in your house, not the middle of the grocery store.”  

Rejection. Denial. George’s response holds some truth to it, but comes off as a haphazard excuse at the same time. He doesn’t appreciate the way Dream pushes for that direct confrontation and frankness when it comes to approaching their situation (and honestly? Neither would I). 

George halts to face him again, with a half-whisper, “Not exactly the best place to ambush me, Dream.” 

I like the use of the word ambush here because of the strong negative connotation it implies. It’s as if he’s saying that Dream sought out to make him uncomfortable. As if this was pre-planned and intentional, and not another one one of his silly impulses.

Dream stares at him wildly. “I didn’t ambush you. You brought up your expectations, not me.” His voice grows tight. “Are you seriously still going to act like this?”

We’ve had enough of “Dream, why? Dream, no! Dream, quit being an idiot!” from the readers. This time, he takes that blame and tosses it over to George instead. Conflict grows stronger.

“Like I’m—I’m this stumbling idiot who forces you into every bad situation,” he says. “It’s exhausting, and doesn't make me feel good about myself, and—” He runs a trembling hand through his hair. “It’d be nice if you took some responsibility, for once. That’s all.”

God, I’m so guilty of how George does this to Dream. Taking responsibility isn’t very fun when you feel like the other person is constantly making irrational, immature, and as we’ve established earlier, overall impulsive decisions when it comes to what they say and do. We assume that the other person should be able to understand us- We’ve put up with them for all this time, haven’t we?

Realizing that having a mentality like this is toxic and draining to the other person as well is... difficult. It’s difficult to remember that they’re trying, and that they genuinely care about you too. The very same things that make them irritating are what make them a loving and caring person as well. It takes growth from the both of you to learn and understand each other. And growth takes time.

It’s 4AM at the time I’m writing this, and I’m far too tired to quote the entire phone scene, so I’m going to assume you’ve read it. 

A few lines from George:

“Can...can you stay on, for a bit? Can we just talk?”

“Please, Dream.”

“I just want to hear your voice.”

A few lines from Dream:

“George.”

“Stop,” he warned. “Stop that.”

“Don’t say that.”  //  “What is wrong with you?”

“Fuck, George. Why are you doing this to me?”

The reason Dream brings this up is because it highlights a moment where their general character roles in the fic are switched. In this scenario, it highlights a moment of hypocrisy. George is desperate, and vulnerable. The phone call dialogue showcases him doing something that he knows he shouldn’t be doing. “Can we not talk about this? Can we pretend this phone call didn’t happen?”

Now, plenty of ugly nights and long weeks later, he steps closer to George in the grocery aisle as an unconcerned passerby skirts around their cart and conflict.  

I’m not sure why I like this line. It feels like a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, your conflict is small. Insignificant to the rest of the world, mattering to you two and only you two. Makes everything a bit more personal, I guess.

He looms over him, wishing he could melt the bristling anger from his brown eyes, and wishing he had it in himself to be angry, too.

I relate to both sides of this. That gut-wrenching feeling of not being able to find your own anger at someone who is angry at you. The feeling of knowing that your anger is frustrating and hurting someone else, too. Either way, it feels absolutely terrible.

“You called me,” Dream recounts, even though he can tell George remembers it as vividly as he. “You talked to me.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath. “Then you got mad at me the next morning, and iced me out.”

Doing the same thing that you hated the other person for doing, and taking it out on them afterwards. Yeah.

(dakota. dream. can you pls stop calling me out through george i would really really really appreciate it thank u) /hj /lh 

“Because you let it happen,” George says, but he looks more vulnerable than before.

blame game here we go againnnnn

Dream stares down at him. “So it’s all on my shoulders,” he reiterates flatly. “It’s all my responsibility, now?” 

“Yes,” George spits, his sharpness startling them both. He meets Dream's gaze, unwavering, and recollects himself with a deep breath.

 “Yes. Because you made it your responsibility, when you sent me that text.”

George was ready to throw that blame right back into Dream’s face. When I saw that whole scene in Heat Waves, I realized how much I related to George in that particular situation. I knew it would come back, somehow. George wouldn’t be able to let something as huge as that, something that shifted the entire course of their relationship...slide so easily. Even with Dream’s eventual promise to work on himself. The whole time, I was thinking, “He’s too nice. He’s too patient,” and, “I wouldn’t be that nice. I wouldn’t be that patient. Not on the inside, at least.”

And you didn’t fail me. That final jab, although relatable- It hurt.

Now that the screens are off, the distance is gone, and the barriers are thinner than ever before, George’s flaws are becoming more transparent. We start to see other parts of his character that had only been foreshadowed in your previous work. I had no idea how Helium would unfold at the beginning, but I’m now very sure that you did not disappoint.

Seeing how you’ve evolved as a writer in both more subtle and more noticeable ways has been awesome :) I’m excited for the next chapter.

[rollercoasterwords]

Heyyy!

Just wanted to start off by saying that I absolutely adore your take on atyd! I have previously read other takes on this story from Sirius’s pov but I have never read one which so perfectly captures the complexity of his character. (Sorry if this turns into a long ramble but I have so much love for your writing and needed to get it out so here we are :)) I think what you have managed to do so well is explore Sirius’s feelings and validate them whilst not taking away from Remus’s experience of things which I admire so much about the way you write (it’s easy to sometimes get too caught up in the feelings of one character and dismiss the others but I have not felt this in the slightest reading this fic). I am also obsessed with your depiction of his friendship with James and was in tears in chapter 125 where he is faced with the possibility of losing James. (I really felt the emotions so clearly which is a sentiment to your writing!). Ok I guess I do have a question. after reading one of your asks where you said you really got into regulus’s head for this I was wondering if you could say a bit about your interpretation of him and things that in your opinion were going through his head in the few interactions we see with him. Thanks so much for blessing us with your writing and hope you’re having a great day xx

ahhh hello thank you!! no need to apologize for rambling, i love long messages + i love to talk about this stuff! this will probably turn into a long and rambling response so we'll be even haha

ok first w the feelings stuff - thank u so much for saying that, it means a lot to hear! i get what ur saying about sort of "siding" with one character over the other and it was really my goal not to do that even though i'm writing from only one character's perspective. something that i find sort of frustrating about some fan responses to atyd is all these debates i see (mostly on tik tok) that sort of get into "who's worse" territory -- like oh remus was so toxic at this part, sirius was so toxic at this part, they were both shitty and the relationship was toxic, etc. i personally felt that one of the most compelling parts of mkb's story was the characters' flaws, the fact that they fuck up and hurt each other and then try to do better and love each other anyway, because they're teenagers dealing with trauma and they're never going to get it perfect. when writing sirius, i didn't want to absolve him of any of the mistakes he made or any of the hurt he caused -- in fact, it was kind of my intention to show that he IS sort of mean, and he IS selfish, and he could easily become a bully if it wasn't for the people around him (especially james) who sort of provide a moral compass that he wasn't raised with. i just find it so much more interesting to explore a character who has to learn how to care for others and struggles with their own cruelty, even if that leads to them fucking up and hurting people. i'm going to cut myself off here bc this is already an essay and i could go on for ages lol

ok so for ur actual question: yes of course i would love to talk about regulus!! i'm going to try not to say TOO much because there's some regulus stuff coming up in 7th year that will be exploring more about what's going on in his head and what he's feeling (ch 134 and 138, specifically), but a lot of what i think was going on in his head between sirius leaving for hogwarts up to xmas 1995 is sort of this slow build of resentment and guilt. i think regulus definitely hero-worshipped his older brother when they were kids, since sirius was always the one protecting him, and that he couldn't help but feel sort of let down and resentful when he left for hogwarts, even though it was obviously something neither of them had control over. i think that resentment would have gotten worse when his brother came home talking about all his new friends and adventures, bc regulus would have sort of felt like he'd been replaced and forgotten. as they grew older i think that resentment would have gotten worse and worse the more sirius pulled away from their family. from sirius's perspective he gets angry with regulus for going along with their parents and not really fighting back, but i think regulus would have been feeling like -- do you not care about me enough to just toe the line? why do you have to keep purposely upsetting our parents, why can't you just keep your head down and stay with me? i think he understood that their parents were abusive, and i don't think he just blindly followed them. but i think part of him blamed sirius, too, for not just "playing the game," because if he had then maybe they would have been able to stay together. so that's really the backdrop for everything that happens in winter of 1995 and then their big fight in spring of 1996. i'll leave things there, because i've written a oneshot of regulus's perspective of that conversation and am planning to post it once we get to ch 138, so everything going on in his head at that point will be there :)

apologies for the literal essay but thank u again for giving me an excuse to ramble about this stuff!!

[guqin-and-flute]

The Soup Incident [Episode 22]

Random Jin Guy: hey u know ur sister

WWX: everyone's mom? best person in the world? beset by terminal heterosexuality? rings a bell

LWJ: i'm sure this is more important than a war

Random Jin Guy: something happened with j

WWX: [overrunning other line] I MUST GO MY MEDDLING IS REQUIRED

Random Nie Guy: oop there he go

LWJ: wow this sounds serious

WWX: what horrors will i find what trauma will this compound what cruelty will i be met with also how did i know exactly where to go

WWX: OH. YOU.

JZX: gross

JYL: oh an audience perfect i'm sure this will de-escalate things

WWX: can we solve this with castration? tell me we can

JYL: no thanks i'd still like the option if it's all the same to u

WWX: it's not let me remove his body parts

JZX: like i'd let u near me u classless hellion

JYL: listen life hasn't been like the greatest lately had a lot of shitty carriage rides i'd like things to chill out and by things i mean namely u in this moment can we go now pls i have an appointment to cry into my pillow that i'm missing

WWX: omg noooo i'll behave i'm here to support u i'll be impartial

JYL: i don't believe that for a single second tho hun

WWX: impartial to how mUCH BLOOD I'M GONNA GET EVERYWHERE HOW IS IT  EVERY TIME I SEE UR STUPID FACE I HATE U MORE fuck u u piece o shit

JYL: and there it is

JZX: [angry sleeve flap of disdainful eloquence]

WWX: wtf

JYL: yeah he's good at those

JYL: honey ur not helping urself here he beat the shit out of u BEFORE he marinated in dark energy for 3 months pls use ur words and ur brain

WWX: WAT DID UR SLEEVE SAY TO ME BITCH

JYL: can we just go pls i like to not be reminded of exactly how much stupid i willingly allow into my life

WWX: but shijie M U R D E R

JYL: inexplicably i still want to marry him so no thank u

JZX: oh look mianmian's here

MM: u fuckin bet i am u dipshit

WWX: wtaf is wrong with him

MM: ok listen LISTEN i know i feel u trust me

JZX: time to return to the arrogance corner

WWX: UR YOUNG MASTER'S A BITCH

JYL: a-xian  n o

MM: no he totally is u right

JYL: well then he's MY bitch :(

MM: why do i bother to stay up late to practice conversations with u if u don't bother to try all that time wasted am i supposed to cover for u now?

JZX: bold of u to assume u can but go for it still don't know why tf ur all here just wanna eat my soup

WWX: HEY I HAVE A FUN GAME IT'S CALLED HOW MUCH OF CHENQING CAN WE FIT INTO JIN ZIXUAN quick someone pick an orifice

JYL: gross

MM: tempting

LWJ: oh hey i'm here now i walk slow oh shit the nice jiang is crying who would hurt the nice jiang?

MM: ok so u know how ur sister makes soup?

JYL: i never really stop it's a little pathological at this point maybe i should talk to someone...

LWJ: oh more heterosexual antics wei ying's achilles heel best wait outside thank god Xichen is mostly functional and gay as the day is long

MM: so she makes soup right? 2 goes to you chuckleheads and the third goes to emporer perpetual foot-in-mouth over here

JZX: [buffering]

MM: jfc why do i even try

WWX: DID HE INSULT UR  S O U P ?!

JYL: sorta i am soup and soup is me

MM: so anyway

JZX: [overrunning previous line] HOLD UP I THOUGHT RANDOM SERVANT NUMBER 62 BROUGHT ME THE SOUP THAT'S NATIVE TO YUNGMENG WHERE MY EX-FIANCE GREW UP

WWX: ur in love with an idiot

JYL: i'm in love with an idiot

MM: I STG UR HEAD IS FILLED WITH JUST HAIRBALLS AND LINT HOW ARE U STILL BREATHING

MM: SHE MAKES SOUP. SHE'S THE SOUP LADY. ASK PEOPLE WHAT THEY THINK OF  WHEN U SAY YANLI AND THEY'LL SAY KINDNESS. A N D  S O U P . and her murder-brothers but that's not the point rn

JZX: ...u made me soup

MM: i'm so fucking sorry pls marry him i need a competent woman to hang around with i'm getting dumber by the day

WWX: seriously this guy u love this guy?

JYL: xianxian pls romantic idiocy runs in our family it's practically traditional

JYL: i mean...yes i have 2 coping mechanisms; soup and crying neither of them are working rn tho help i don't unlock righteous fury until level 25

JZX: wow she made me soup

WWX: of course she made u soup  u human inner-thigh chafe show us the flashback mianmian

MM: [off screen] oh yeah that roll the tape jeeves

[ENTER FLASHBACK]

JYL: i made u soup bb

JZX: ur not servant number 62 go fuck urself

JYL: wut

[END FLASHBACK]

WWX: NO FURTHER QUESTIONS UR HONOR

Random Jin Guy Who Brought Wuxian: perhaps this was a [cursive writing] Mistake™

JZX: ouchie i can twirly fight countless puppets can't dodge a punch of the life of me cultivation jesus that's gonna leave a mark

JYL: GOD I WISH THIS WAS MORE CATHARTIC how does this always happen? who raised this kid? oh right me

Group of Random Jin Guards: we are all well intentioned but ultimately expendable extras fear us

Random Jin Guard: UNHAND HIM FIEND

WWX: cool imma write u a song it's called Don't Care Didn't Ask Gonna Kill Everyone In This Tent Over Soup in b flat tootly toot here comes the murder flute

Random Jin Guards attacked by resentful energy: [keyboard smash]

LWJ: wait hold on that's his shit starting music has shit been started?? wEi YiNg

WWX: are u prepared for the journey i'm about to send u on little man

JZX: i'm actually good here thanks

[unintelligible teenage screaming]

MM: HEY LISTEN U CAN'T DO THAT MURDER IS BAD and i still like him i sympathize but like...u can't

WWX: the semi corporeal black smoke demons that sublet my soul tell me that it's fine sooo

JYL: a-xian if u kill him now i will have put up with so much bs for n o t h i n g

LWJ: take a deep breath us ur words what in the actual hell is going on

WWX: fuck u ur not my therapist

LWJ: u do not have a therapist never has someone so clearly NOT had a therapist except maybe jiang cheng

WWX: SOUP MURDER IS GOING ON

LWJ: wut

JYL: pls understand it's just as dumb as you think

LWJ: ... i refuse to let soup related crimes of passion be something my future husband is known for u stop that

WWX: THEN I'M LEAVING

LWJ: wow

JYL: we're both in love with idiots

JZX: am i still gonna keep getting soup?

[this is a thing i do sometimes so if you would like to see more...]

Scene suggested by @nagisachan1​!! (I’m so sorry I forgot to tag/credit you when I posted this!)

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

@guqin-and-flute​ I hope you don’t mind that I jumped in on this one? It happened to hit my inspiration bone just right so I wrote a quick one-shot while procrastinating my college assignments.

(Edit: now on my AO3, titled, “You’ll Have To Trust Me”)

--

In retrospect, Nie Mingjue supposes, he should have known that it would just be their luck - his luck, really - that they would run into something like this.

Leave it to Jin Guangyao to find the perfect excuse for the three of them to get away from the overwhelming crush of their duties for a night only to just so happen to walk right into a fucking trap that has conveniently left himself and Lan Xichen blinded and Jin Guangyao apparently untouched.

Oh not that he’ll ever get Lan Xichen to believe it was a trap, of course. It was an ‘honest mistake’ as far as he’s concerned, which he’s currently reassuring Jin Guangyao of throughout all the other man’s outwardly anxious fretting.

“Er-ge are you really sure you’re alright? You’re not hurt anywhere?”

“A-Yao -” Lan Xichen’s voice is soft and warm and even though the kindness isn’t even directed at him it still feels like a warmed blanket around Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. Lan Xichen is just...like that. “I promise I’m alright, not even a scratch.”

There’s a pause and then a tentative, “Da-ge?” from much closer than he would have expected. He doesn’t flinch though. He won’t give Jin Guangyao the satisfaction.

“What?” he replies, his tone as curt as Lan Xichen’s was affectionate. He can practically feel the disapproval radiating off of Lan Xichen in response but that isn’t anything new with their new..situation. Nie Mingjue has already made his peace with the fact that he is likely going to spend the rest of his life upsetting his oldest friend in some way or another.

“You’re injured.”

“I know that!” 

“Mingjue-xiong? You’re hurt?” Lan Xichen suddenly pipes up and Nie Mingjue knows that the only reason there’s not an accompanying rustle of clothing and a gentle touch on his arm is because Lan Xichen is as sightless as he is at the moment and likely afraid to move too much.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Will you let me look at it?”

Nie Mingjue instinctively pulls his injured leg closer to himself and away from Jin Guangyao, biting his tongue instead of groaning when something grinds under the skin in a spot where he’s pretty sure nothing’s supposed to actually move.

“It’s fine. We just need to figure out how to break this fucking curse before something comes and eats us,” he grunts once he’s sure he can talk without screaming, dull flares of pain dragging up and down his entire left side, from toes to shoulder and back down again.

“Mingjue-xiong just let him look at it,” Lan Xichen sighs. “We’re not going anywhere for awhile anyway until we figure out how to do this safely.”

Nie Mingjue holds out in silence for another two minutes (he counts) before he relents with a nod. For a long moment he’s able to maintain the hope that Jin Guangyao wasn’t watching him to see it, but then there’s a quiet shuffling and small, cool hands are lifting the suspiciously sticky fabric of his trousers to take a look at his leg.

“What’s wrong? How bad is it?” Lan Xichen asks when Jin Guangyao sucks in a gasp and Nie Mingjue glares into the middle distance that he can’t fucking see because this spirit that Jin Guangyao just had to chase tonight blinded them and now he’s broken his fucking leg because of it. And he’s still somehow the only person in the world who doesn’t trust the oh-so-accommodating, oh-so-polite, oh-so-obsequious Jin Fucking Guangyao, so the chances that his accusations of trickery and malicious intent will be listened to are little to none.

He’s pissed, basically.

“That fucking HURTS Meng Yao!” he snaps, his voice too loud and sharp in his frustration at the burst of pain from whatever Jin Guangyao had just done to his leg. His hands go still and this time the quiet gasp comes from Lan Xichen.

“Mingjue-xiong,” he chastises as Jin Guangyao’s hands slowly pull away from his skin.

“It’s alright, er-ge,” he demurs and that tone gets under Nie Mingjue’s skin even more, that kicked puppy tone, that ‘I’m used to the world not respecting me’ tone that he always uses to get his way with Lan Xichen. Whether he does it on purpose or not (Nie Mingjue fucking knows he does) it’s exactly the right way to get Lan Xichen’s sense of propriety involved and suddenly Nie Mingjue is the one in the wrong for using his old name rather than his legitimized one. As if that name isn’t a slap in Jin Guangyao’s face all on its own, but no one but Nie Mingjue even seems to notice that bit. “His leg is broken and it’s gone through the skin. I need to go find something to make a splint with, I’ll do my best to stay within earshot.”

“Alright A-Yao,” Lan Xichen murmurs. “We’ll stay right here.” His smile is audible despite their circumstances and Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in, squeezing his unseeing eyes shut. His anger won’t find a home here - not with these two as his companions practically drooling on each other with all their gooey affection in their own little world - but he doesn’t want to take it out on Lan Xichen anyways. He’s got quite a few things he’d like to take out on Jin Guangyao, but that would only end up hurting Lan Xichen as well, and his childhood friend doesn’t deserve that.

Jin Guangyao’s footsteps retreat through the underbrush, growing fainter and fainter until there’s nothing to hear but the wind through the trees.

“Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Xichen starts, his lecturing voice out in full force.

“Don’t. I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, Xichen! I know! I got it, it was just a slip of the tongue! Is your precious A-Yao the only one here allowed to make ‘an honest mistake’?!”

“Alright.”

They lapse into silence then, Nie Mingjue still breathing too fast and too hard but unable to stop. He’s angry, he’s in pain, and he’ll never admit it out loud but he’s afraid. Ever since he had woken up in the Scorching Sun Palace to find Lan Xichen defending Meng Yao so fiercely he had known he couldn’t count on Lan Xichen’s protection from the other, which meant that if he was to keep himself safe from Jin Guangyao’s scheming mind and murderous hands he would have to always maintain the upper hand. He can’t do that while injured and blinded and with Lan Xichen similarly incapacitated, the pair of them suddenly entirely reliant on Jin Guangyao.

It would be so easy for Jin Guangyao to arrange for an unfortunate ‘accident’ and get rid of him. He’d watched the man murder with the intention to frame someone else for his deeds. If he was willing to do it once, who’s to say he won’t be willing to do it again?

He’s on his own, and he honestly can’t say he enjoys the feeling.

“A-Yao?” Lan Xichen calls a few quiet minutes later, startling him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“I’m still here, er-ge,” comes the faint call from some distance away and Nie Mingjue hears a few dry leaves rustle as Lan Xichen shifts his weight, presumably turning in his direction even though he can’t see Jin Guangyao out in the trees. “It’s difficult finding sticks that are both as long as da-ge needs and as strong and also straight enough to be a splint. Are you both still alright?”

“Yes. Take your time,” Lan Xichen replies and then things are quiet again.

“You can’t really think this is a coincidence,” Nie Mingjue finally mutters, low enough not to carry too far beyond their spot. “Xichen, please. Just entertain the idea that this is all on purpose.”

“I can’t, Mingjue-xiong, I’m sorry.” And he really does sound remorseful about that, because of course he does. “I trust A-Yao. Accidents happen on night hunts all the time, and we three are not infallible. I am only relieved that he remains unaffected by this curse so that we have hopes of getting out of here safely.”

“And just why do you think he wasn’t affected?” Nie Mingjue can’t resist asking, beginning to become desperate to understand Lan Xichen’s way of thinking that can keep him from becoming in the least bit suspicious.

“We shielded him from it, of course.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did, Mingjue-xiong. You and I both.”

Nie Mingjue mentally replays the last moments before the world had gone dark. They’d been pursuing the spirit as it fled back towards where it had come from, all three of them running as fast as they could over unfamiliar, heavily wooded terrain. He’d seen the spirit whip back at the last moment, diving towards them rather than back into a stone hut nearly completely crumbled under moss. He remembers shouting for Lan Xichen to watch out and -

Yanking Jin Guangyao behind himself as he skidded to a stop next to Lan Xichen just in time for the spirit to slam into both of their chests and knock them all backwards.

He remembers the moments after that as well, his vision fading quicker than a candle guttering out. He had shoved Jin Guangyao at Lan Xichen just before everything had gone completely dark and his momentum had carried him over the edge of a small ravine. He had been the only one to fall into it, the others had joined him almost immediately after, but under their own power. 

Nie Mingjue growled low in his throat and pounded a fist against the soft earth beneath him once, irritated with himself for the moment of weakness; for his instinct to protect Jin Guangyao being stronger than anything else in him when it came right down to it.

He can’t admit to it.

“He’s smaller than us and he was lagging behind while we ran. We were in his way when the spirit turned and he couldn’t get around us, that’s all there is to it. We weren’t protecting him.”

“Alright,” Lan Xichen agrees far too easily and it’s clear by the tone of his voice that he knows Nie Mingjue is just trying to save face. He both loves and hates that knowing tone, as well as the fact that Lan Xichen doesn’t press him to tell the truth that they both know.

Nie Mingjue is thankfully saved from any further humiliation by footsteps returning through the brush and he sits up a little straighter, breath quickening again as he braces himself for the pain of having his leg shifted and splinted that he knows is imminent.

“I was looking for a crutch but nothing around here is sturdy enough for you, da-ge, you’ll probably have to lean on er-ge to walk,” Jin Guangyao supplies as he comes closer, stopping a few steps away. There’s the clatter of a few sticks being set down on the ground close to his leg and he forces himself not to flinch away from it. The movement would only hurt and it won’t stop what’s about to happen, so he holds himself still with a grim determination.

Jin Guangyao settles down near him again and his hands are back on his skin, his touch still featherlight and cool as he shifts his trousers up over his knee but now there’s a slight trembling in his fingers that Nie Mingjue can feel when the man places a hand flat on his shin just below his knee.

“I’m sorry, da-ge,” he whispers for Nie Mingjue’s ears alone. He doesn’t have a chance to reply before he’s letting loose a primal shout of pain that he has absolutely no control over whatsoever. He bites out a litany of swears next, his head swimming and unseeing eyes brimming with tears as the nearly unbearable flare of pain settles again.

“Mingjue!” Lan Xichen shouts and there’s the sound of movement from his direction.

“Over here, er-ge, take my hand. Don’t get too much closer or you’ll hit his leg.”

“A-Yao, give me one of his hands.”

There’s a bit of shuffling, the touch of two shaking fingers under his wrist, and then Jin Guangyao’s hesitant touch is replaced by the anxious surety of both of Lan Xichen’s surprisingly warm hands wrapping around his palm. He curls his fingers tightly around Lan Xichen’s palm in return, both to reassure him as well as to have something to hold onto as Jin Guangyao starts getting his leg splinted, every single touch against his skin like a line of throbbing fire. Somehow it hurts more when he can’t see what’s happening, can’t anticipate the next touch.

The fire starts to ease as he realizes Lan Xichen is passing him some of his own qi, two of his fingertips pressed firmly against the pulse point on his wrist. The thread of it is soothing, silvery blue where it slips along his meridians. It leaves the scent of fresh pine and the peculiar crispness of mountain air in his nose and on the back of his tongue in its wake as it chases away the sharpest pains and soothes the duller ones into a manageable ache.

None of them talk while Jin Guangyao methodically binds his leg and Lan Xichen tends to his pains as best as he can. When it’s finished Nie Mingjue hears Jin Guangyao murmur for Lan Xichen to stop before he exhausts himself too much to travel.

“I need you both to listen to me very carefully,” Jin Guangyao says, his tone perfectly even.

“Yes yes we know, you get to order us around to get us out of here - how lucky for you,” Nie Mingjue snaps, patience worn down to the absolute thinnest it’s been since he had been driven to threaten Jin Guangyao’s life in Qishan.

“No, I meant...well, yes. But..” Jin Guangyao sighs then, a heavy, world-weary thing. It’s been a very very long time since he’s heard Jin Guangyao - normally so silver-tongued - become tongue-tied over anything. He sounds exhausted.

Nie Mingjue is..dismayed but not surprised to realize that he can still be manipulated so easily by the other even when he can’t see him. Not that he’ll ever let on, of course, but that doesn’t mean the twinge of guilt at being part of the cause of that exhaustion isn’t real. “Let’s just get out of here first, I suppose. I have something to tell you when we return to the inn, and you’ll both have to listen to me. You’ll have to trust me.”

“We trust you, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen replies instantly. Both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao’s silences speak volumes about what they think about that, but they both wisely say nothing. If there’s one thing the pair of them can agree on anymore it’s that Lan Xichen should be allowed to keep up his optimistic illusions about the world for as long as they can be maintained. He should always get to believe the best in everybody like he wants to.

Getting Nie Mingjue standing and propped up against Lan Xichen’s side for the return journey leaves him sweating and trembling but upright, and able to walk. Lan Xichen holds his free hand out to hold Jin Guangyao’s belt, Jin Guangyao warns them of any obstacles in their path, and Nie Mingjue does his best not to pass out.

They follow Jin Guangyao in this way back the way they had come, and while Nie Mingjue is constantly braced for something else to go wrong, after a small eternity they finally manage to return to the inn without further injury.

They agree to gather in Lan Xichen’s room, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue sitting on the bed and facing Jin Guangyao’s general direction, and Jin Guangyao begins to talk.

“Just trust me,” he reminds them once again. “There are a few things you should know.”

----

In the morning, a scrap of post is sent from the smallest, cheapest inn of a small town that sits precariously on the edge of the forest on the far border of Lanling. The letter is bound for the heart of the territory under the control of the Jin’s, and Jin money is spared for the extra expense of ensuring it will arrive as quickly as it can. 

The letter will reach Jin Guangshan in the afternoon just in time for his usual break for tea, and Jin Guangshan will sit on his throne in Jinlintai to read Jin Guangyao’s report that the plot Jin Guangshan had devised has worked to perfection, that Qinghe Nie will no longer be a threat to his position. That he is retreating to Gusu to ostensibly grieve with his remaining sworn brother while doing his best to gain whatever secrets he can from their library to further secure their position at the top of the world.

Shortly after the letter begins its hurried journey to Jinlintai, three heavily cloaked figures - two tall, one short; one limping, one supporting, and one guiding - quietly slip away to begin their own journey in the opposite direction, bound for the safety that only the Gusu Lan can provide to shelter them while they plan just what, exactly, the three of them are going to do next.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ On The Hunt For Mike Weiss

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Since When Is Ice Cream Evil?

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

Mary Eileen Adler has only ever known two parents: Frank and Abby.  They were her dad and mom for all intents and purposes, regardless of the time Abby left.  She understood that her real mother was Frank’s sister, but she wasn’t her mom.  

And she understood that she had a father but that he never acknowledged her so really, he wasn’t anything to her.  

So why did Uncle Mike say he was her dad? 

As her grandparents drove them to their Boston house, Mary sat quietly, not sure how to ask the questions in her head. Uncle Mike was nice but not nice to Frank or Abby.  She remembered the bruises she saw on Abby and when she asked, she was told she was in an accident.  But she knew it wasn’t the truth.  

“Nugget, are you hungry?” 

Mary snapped her head up to Frank, who looked concerned. “A little,” she whispered.  

“Do you want...” 

“I want Abuela’s food. Because it's at home.  And I want to go home.”  

The sadness in her voice nearly tears Frank in half.  His little girl is scared and hurting. “Ok Nugget.  We’ll go home.  We have a flight to Los Angeles tomorrow.”  

Mary nodded. “You won’t leave me, right?” 

Frank almost lost it right there.  He lifted the girl out of her seat and into his lap, adjusting the seatbelt so she could sit the rest of the way home there. “I’m always going to be here for you.  And I’ll make sure nothing happens to you again, ok?  I love you Mary, so much. Abby and I are go so happy you are ok and that you are back home with us.” He kissed her temple and she snuggled into him. “You’re ours Nugget and we’ll fight every day to make sure of that.”  

May fell asleep in the comfort of his arms.  They made it to Abby’s parents' house and Frank took her right to the guest room.  Tucking her in, he moved to leave the room, but a tiny hand fisted his shirt.  “Please stay with me,” she whispered.  

Frank smiled, scooting her to the middle of the bed, took off his shoes and climbed in. Mary rested her head on his chest and went back to sleep, taking Frank with her. 

 Frank sat with a coffee, watching Mary a few hours later as she played in the back yard with Johnny, Susie, Marco and Scott, Dodger chasing her around.  He sighed as he took in the sight.  “Frankie?” He looked over to his wife, who placed some sweet bread on the table next to him.  “Are you ok baby?” 

“Yeah, Cricket, I’m ok.  I’m just wondering how I’m going to break this news to Mary.  We have to give her something and she’s too smart not to just start googling everything.”  He rubbed his forehead.  “I was hoping we could have this conversation when she was older, but I guess not.”  

“I know Frankie but its better it comes from us.” Abby kissed his head. “Our baby needs to know the truth.” She looked at the group and an idea came to mind.  “How about we do this with everyone here? If it becomes too much, she can lean on Scott or Johnny or Marco or us, whatever makes her happy. She’ll know that she is loved by everyone here.”  

“Are you ok with everyone knowing our past?” 

“I am not ashamed of how everything got out of sync, Frankie. We were manipulated and that the truth.  Is that something I wanted Mary to know? No, of course not because I never wanted her to be afraid of anything but if it makes her safer, then I will do what I need to do to protect our girl.”  She cupped his cheek and he leaned into her warmth.  

“We’ll do it when you parents come back,” he said. “I want her to have all of the support she can have.” Frank leaned into Abby for a kiss. “You said our baby. Did you mean that?” 

“Mary is ours, Frankie. Of course I meant that.” 

“No I mean, will we have a baby?” 

Abby sucked in a breath. “You think you’re ready for that?” 

Frank looked at her eyes. “Maybe we wait until this all blows over but yeah, Cricket, I want a baby with you.” 

“That good. Because if you wanted a baby with someone else, I’ll murder you.”  

After a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, the family gathered around the living room, Mary sat between Frank and Abby, chatting with Johnny.  “Mary, we wanted to talk to you about what’s been happening.”  

She fell silent as her family quieted.  She looked around and swallowed.  “Okay.”  

Abby sighed. “You know how we’ve told you that your birth mom is Frank’s sister?” Mary nodded. “Well, we also told you that we didn’t know who your biological father is, right?” She nodded again. “The last couple of months have been enlightening to us all.”  

“What does that mean?” 

Frank swallowed. “You remember that Abby was in the hospital?” 

“You said she was in accident.”  

“She was, Nugget, but not the way you were thinking.  Uncle Mike,” he swallowed, “he...uh... he...” 

“Did he hurt Abby?” 

“No.” He said firmly. “No, he didn’t touch her, but he knew where your mother was and invited her into Abby’s old house. And she hurt Abby.”  

“Why?” Mary’s eyes filled with tears.  “Why would she do that? 

“We are not really sure Mary,” Abby said softly. “But Uncle... just Mike, sweetheart, Mike and Diane have their reasons for everything.  All we know is that the police are looking for them and they and we have a lot of questions. Do you have any questions?” 

Mary looked at all of the people in her life, her family. “Are they going to take me away?” she asked just above a whisper. “Will they...” tears trickled down her face, “will they take you and Dodger away?” She looked between Abby and Frank. “You’re my mom and dad, not them.”  She began to sob.  

Frank immediately got out of his seat in front of her. “Listen to me, Mary.” He locked eyes with her. “No one is going to take you anywhere.  You are coming home with me and Abby and Scott and Dodger.  Johnny and Susie are going to hang out with us. Your abuelos are going to visit and we ae going to visit in the off season but this right here,” he looked around the room, “this is your family. You are my girl,” he wiped around her face to remove the tears. “I won’t let anyone, or anything change that.”  

Mary threw herself into his arms as everyone calmed their own soft cries. Mary understood. Her home was with Frank and Abby.  

The two people who would do anything for her.  

The morning of their flight home, Abby and Frank sat down with the lead detective on Mary’s kidnaping case, Paul Diskant.  “I’m sorry I haven’t met with you sooner,” he said, after introducing himself. “I’ve been following up with some leads coming in.”  

“Any news on finding Weiss?” Frank asked with a hard edge. 

Detective Diskant frowned. “No, it looks like he rented a car when he arrived in Boston a week ago and turned it in, but we don’t know if he’s left town or has someone else helping him.  We found the house, just as Mary described. There were no signs that he was going to hurt her in any way. We did find some photographs, surveillance of your family. It was taken by a professional, so I am assuming Mr. Weiss hired a private investigator.” 

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled. “What is the next step? We’re flying back to Los Angeles this afternoon.”  

“Private?” 

“Yeah, after what happened to Abby, I didn’t want to risk a commercial flight.” 

“I would like to send some officers to escort your family to the airport, just as a precaution.” Detective Diskant sighed. “I’m going to contact LAPD and advise the detectives on your case, Dr. Adler, what’s happened.  I’m sure, with the coverage it received in the press, they are aware of something but not everything and I want to keep them in the loop.”  

“Alright, what do you suggest for personal security?” Frank asked.  

“Frankie,” Abby started.  

“No, Abigail, we are not discussing this again. I will not allow something to happen to you or Mary or Scott for that matter.”  

“Mr. Adler, Dr. Adler, let me make this clear. My recommendation is that your family take every precaution available.  It is clear that your sister and Mr. Weiss are not of sound mind.  He is desperate to get to you Dr. Adler.  Your husband is right.”  

Abby stared at the detective for a minute before looking at her husband. “You really think he might try again?”  

“Cricket, if it wasn’t for the fact that your entire family is with our girl right now, she would be here with us. I refuse to leave any of you vulnerable again.”  

Departing from the airport, Abby’s parents hugged their daughter, granddaughter and son-in-law hard. “Call us when you get home,” Ana said, cupping her daughter’s cheek.  

“It’ll be late, Mama.”  

“I don’t care.”  She turned to Scott and Johnny. “You boys behave. “ 

“We will Mrs. Hernandez,” Johnny said before picking up Mary and carrying her into the plane.  

Abby looked around.  “Where is Susie?” 

“I think she left her bag in the car,” Scott said.  “C’mon Dodger, let’s get on.”  

Abby walked back to the SUV and stopped. She smiled as she spied on Susie and Marco, holding hands and whispering to each other, heads bent closer.  Abby quietly moved away as Marco bent down to place a soft kiss on Susie’s lips.  

Frank waited for Abby as Susie came around the side of the car.  “You girls are always late,” he mumbled. He grunted as Abby elbowed him. “What?” 

“Leave Susie out of this. She just needed a moment,” she whispered. She pulled out her phone.  

Abby: You could always find work out in California  Marco: Why would I do that  Abby: Because a certain blonde may love it  Marco: I don’t know what you are talking about  Abby: Ok fine. Just know, Frank is looking for someone to run security for the family. This could be the opportunity you’re looking for  Marco: Really?  Abby: Call him.   Marco: I’ll do it tomorrow.  Thanks sis. 

Returning to the team and relative normalcy helped the Adlers get back into normal. Frank thought it was a brilliant idea to have Marco be the head of security for the family. He moved Marco into the guest house on his property and Marco took over interviewing and hiring security to protect the family.  

Frank had a good couple of weeks, the Dodgers on a run at the moment.  Mary was thriving with camp, Abby found time to work at USC and attend to her duties with the Dodgers and Scott had found a job that allowed him to take care of Mary and work from home.  He and Abby shared an office, which Abby loved as Scott was rapidly becoming her best friend.  

Yes, everything was going great.  

Unknown: enjoy it while it last  Frank: Who is this?  Unknown: a nightmare 

NEXT

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@jennmurawski13-writes

@bunnyforhim

[nazyalenskyism]

Alone Together

Summary: After observing the same mysterious stranger from afar at party after party, Zoya finds herself swept into a familiar sort of dance, but for the first time in her life she finds herself faced with an equally capable partner. A/N: This fic is based on song, if you send me an ask with a prompt and your guess, I'll write a short fic for whoever gets it right first! This has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time, I really hope you like it! Ao3: Alone Together There he was again, a flash of gold on the edge of the dance floor, a smile as bright as his hair illuminating the room. Keeping an eye on him over the rim of her glass she pondered for a moment, she had been coming to Morozova Foundation events since she was a child, at one point she’d been the belle of the ball, a prodigy touted around by the great entrepreneur himself. ‘ My talented pupil,’ was what he used to boast, well as much as his stoicism would allow. Zoya had once let herself be examined by a ballroom full of strangers, all clamoring for a look at her, trying to see what set her apart. At least until someone shinier had come along, that was. Then she’d been discarded as easily as yesterday’s paper and slowly she’d begun to see what he really was. A master manipulator, he’d played her for the fool she was, taking the only things she ever truly loved. 

This stranger had begun making appearances at not just Morozova Foundation events, but at every event with even the slightest connection to the man. Usually this wouldn’t set off her alarm bells, many familiar faces would make the rounds at multiple parties but they were all Morozova’s mother’s age, usually none were as young as her and if they were then they belonged to a big name family. This man had no name she knew of, yet, and the way he worked the room, charmed the guests left and right was in a way not unlike her own. Zoya was entranced by the way he worked each table he sat down at, turning the grumpiest people she had ever encountered into putty in his hands. As intrigued as she was, she wasn’t going to let a pretty boy in a fancy jacket distract her from the task at hand. The man she had been conversing with all night, Mr.Kirigin had come back from a phone call and said nothing as she smiled sweetly, leading him to the quiet hall just outside the main ballroom. Kirigin was supposed to have information as to why Morozova had cancelled his appearance tonight at the last second, and lucky for her, from the second she stepped foot into the ballroom, the fool’s eyes had been transfixed on her. 

Zoya pulled him towards an alcove in the wall between two ornate paintings, the gold of their frames reminding her just how gaudy this place was, how rich Kirigin was, he was throwing this party for Morozova’s foundation and money was clearly not an object. Yes, she was here to get information, but she wasn’t opposed to leaving with a little bit of financial compensation for her time either. She leaned back against the wall, watching Kirigin move towards her, fully enthralled by her and she nearly laughed, all men were really the same.

“What a beautiful time tonight has been, Mr.Kirigin.”

“Thank you, it took many endless nights of planning, or so my assistants tell me,” Zoya resisted the urge to smash his toes under her heel, what an ass.

“I would really like to thank whoever made it possible,” she slipped closer to him batting her eyelashes demurely, “I was looking forward to meeting the legendary Morozova too, why wasn’t he in attendance?”  

“He said he had urgent business,” Kirigin moved as if to touch her hair, but Zoya grabbed his wrist instinctively.

“Where did he go?” she said abruptly, forgetting herself for a split second, just as someone coughed nearby. This hallway was supposed to be empty.

“I-- I don’t…” Kirigin took a step back, the trance quickly washing away. Shit, she couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” She made her voice honey sweet but the man still shook his head, taking another dazed step back from her when his phone buzzed, as if it fully snapped him out of it. He vanished back into the main ballroom as Zoya cursed to herself, how could she have let him get away so easily, she had been so close.

“Get it together,” she hissed. “Stop making rookie mistakes.”

“Talking to ourselves, are we now?” She whirled on her heel, she’d recognize that lilting voice anywhere, that bastard.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing, I’m just admiring the view.”

“That’s the best line you can come up with? How do you get the ladies to fall for that?” 

“It works just fine, it doesn’t hurt when it comes from a mouth as pretty as this.”

“Trust me, it’s not pretty.”

“How long did you spend staring at my lips before arriving at that incorrect conclusion?”

Zoya scowled, “I don’t need to stare, I just assume every part of you is as insufferable as your personality.”

“How would you know my personality if I’ve never had the pleasure of talking to you?” He was next to her now, perfectly polished and dashing except for one stubborn strand of curled hair that only added to his boyish looks. She refused to think about how it made him all the more endearing, instantly understanding why all the rich women fawned over him. He was young, handsome, charming, witty and handed out compliments and praise in a way that was so sincere, no one could ever doubt his intentions. She had been watching him, not that she’d admit it but she was no fool, she couldn’t let some stranger waltz in under her nose and steal what she’d worked so hard for. 

“I can sense inanities from miles away, and it seems your head is full of them.”

He pulled a face and she thought she’d finally wounded him into leaving her alone but the next thing she knew he was offering her his elbow with a gallant smile, “shall we take a walk?”

 The estate was decorated lavishly for the party, not a single thing looked out of place. The gardens were strung with lights, even the tennis courts hadn’t been spared, with large outdoor tents concealing them from the French doors of the ballroom. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to the dancefloor, the guests had all moved back inside, the night being too chilly for their expensive fashions. Zoya let her mind wander as she kept up with the stranger's long strides— she’d refused to take his arm, she didn’t get that intimate until a man was giving her something worth more than a law school’s semester’s tuition. Then of course in the days following, he would never hear from her again. This man was clearly wealthy, though he spent time catering his attention to rich folk he evidently didn’t need it. You could often tell someone’s status based on the way they handled themselves. Most people didn’t practice as much as she had, from age 9 learning to carry herself as a queen would so that no one would ever doubt that she was anything less. The stranger had the posture and pose of a rich man’s son but there was something more to it— a light swagger-- as if he knew something no one else did, but he was perfectly fine being alone in that knowledge. A type of confidence she saw the partygoers try to emulate but something that they never could quite live up to. It was the ease of a man who had learned how to be free but a bird who was trapped in a cage again, desperately trying to get back to the skies.

“Can I have this dance?” The hall was packed, but most people were seated at the moment, only a few couples hurrying to the dancefloor before the next song started. She really didn’t want to dance with him, but she had lost her best chances tonight due to her own impatience and there was nothing left for her here. A woman the stranger had been chattering away with earlier in the night waved them over from a nearby table before she had a chance to respond, however.

“Mr.Lantsov, why haven’t I seen you on the dance floor yet, you said you were an excellent dancer, yet…” she trailed off as she finally noticed Zoya standing next to her precious, Mr.Lantsov, now where did she remember that name from? 

“Yes ma’am my partner and I were just on our way there, as long as she agrees to dance?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” The woman glared at Zoya in a way that communicated that this man was the most desirable person at the party and she’d be a fool to turn him down. As stubborn as she was, she did not want to come across as a fool tonight. 

“Dancing is a dangerous game, Mr. Lantsov,” she said, her eyes flicking to him to make sure he understood what she was saying. All he did was wink coyly at her before nodding to the woman and leading Zoya to the dancefloor. Fantastic.

“So, Miss…?” he began, taking her hand in his while the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her in close. She tried to repress the slight shudder as his fingers brushed against her exposed back. If she had planned on dancing today she definitely wouldn't have worn a backless dress. Although she couldn’t deny that he was handsome, at least she was dancing with the best looking person in the room… well, second best . She was showstopping and that was why all eyes were on them as she slipped her free hand onto his shoulder, curling against the smooth material of his jacket. Saints, his suit was at least three thousand dollars, his watch at least two thousand, and she didn’t even want to look at his shoes but she knew they probably cost more than her car.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Well, Miss ‘None of my Business’, what brings you here tonight?”

“Ooh, none of your business.” 

“Are you having fun?”

“None of your business.”

“Intriguing! Is there anything that is my business?”

“No. Aren’t you tired yet?”

“No,” he grinned roguishly, “I don’t tire that easily.” Zoya turned her face quickly so he didn’t catch the blush colouring her cheeks. Thankfully he just kept talking. “Since you insist on being so mysterious, why don’t you ask me about myself?”

“Okay,” she looked up at him, how was he so tall? Even in her heels she had to look up into his eyes, eyes that were a brilliant emerald green with flecks of bronze. Before she forgot herself, she managed to grind out,  “why are you here?”

“My family is expected to attend functions like this.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He let out a laugh as he spun her, gracefully catching her against him before they resumed their steps. They were nearly flush now, she could feel the heat radiating from him as he leaned in, “ let’s say, an old friend usually attends these sorts of things and I’m hoping to run into him.”

Zoya tried to bite back her surprise, could she be thinking of the same person? “And what did the old friend do to you to earn your visits? I’ve seen you at every event I’ve been to this month.”

He paused for a second as if weighing just how much he wanted to reveal to her.  Good, at least he seemed to have a brain in that big head of his. “ I’ve been at university for the past few years and I came back once I heard he was planning on taking something of mine.”

“Oh, so not so much a friend, more like an enemy?”

“I don’t have enemies, Miss None of My—“

“Nazyalensky,” she supplied absentmindedly, she wanted to hear more of his story.

“ Nazyalensky… I don’t recall hearing that name before.”

“You probably forgot,” she said hurriedly, “I’m at every party and you’ve only just come back to town.” He didn’t need to know that she had only started using her last name again after her aunt died, hearing people associate her with her aunt’s maiden name had hurt too much. It helped that Morozova had only ever known her with that surname, it helped her disappear into crowds that had once marvelled at her and her skills. She’d stayed away from the social scene for a few years, watching from the outside, learning and perfecting her craft so that she would one day be ready to take him down. 

“I remember most names and faces,” he mused, “and I would definitely remember someone as beautiful as you.” 

Zoya rolled her eyes, she wasn’t that easy to woo. “I’ve been away from the scene for a while too, I’m also looking for an old friend, but he’s never here.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“You wouldn’t—“

“Trust me, he interrupted, “I would.”

“Morozova,” she blurted out, biting her tongue at how easily she’d let him uncover her secret. She needed to know if that’s who he meant too, and there was something about him that made him seem so sincere. 

A shadow passed over his face and Zoya realized he hadn’t been expecting her to say that name. “Funny, he’s my ‘friend’ too.”

“Oh,” she mouthed softly, trying to step back as the music ended, but Mr. Lantsov kept a firm hand on her waist, his other hand slipping up to brush a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“Perhaps we could speak outside?”

Zoya shook out her head, he may have dazed her for a second but she needed to call the shots again. She took his elbow as he released her tentatively, “lead the way, Mr. Lantsov.”

 They had found their way back outside and Nazyalensky had yet to let go of him, her warm fingers pressed into his arm. He was fully aware of what she was doing, she had realized that since they had the same enemy, she could put on an act like she did with the people inside and get the information she needed from him. He admired her skill, most others didn’t get this far on tricks alone which meant that she had to hide something else as well. He also knew that as adept as she was, she hadn’t quite pinned him down yet. For one, he had seen her assess his worth, scanning him and figuring out the price tag of each item, but unfortunately for her, at the moment he was only worth a little more than the clothes on his back. From observing her at the last few events and staying at her side this night he found that he quite enjoyed being in her company. She was quick and clever, not unlike himself, and she knew just how to move, just what to say to get people to give her what she wanted, but as they conversed he found himself believing that she wasn’t putting up as much of a front with him. Perhaps it was a tactic to lower his guard, or maybe he only wanted to think she was being truthful for his own sake. He’d been at this game for a very, very long time and he was beginning to wonder what it would be like to not have to run alone for once. 

“What did you think of tonight’s party? Even if you didn’t get exactly what you came for?”

“Maybe I didn’t get what I came for,” she said slowly, turning to face him, “but maybe I found what I needed.” Nikolai had to admit that she was very good at that, and had he been anyone but himself he would’ve gladly thrown himself into the grand fountains if she asked. Unfortunately for her, well maybe both of them, that’s not what he was looking for tonight. He simply smiled at her, taking the second before Nazyalensky spoke again to admire the way the silver moonlight illuminated her dress, creating a shimmering aura around her. She did look even more ethereal in the moonlight and even he was beginning to question his own ability to resist her.

“Well,” she drawled, finger running down his chest, “what do you think?” She looked up at him through thick lashes, the endless blue of her eyes threatening to drown him if he didn’t pull himself away. 

Instead, he leaned in further, “I think,” he breathed, “that you’re playing a game I’m used to winning.” A genuine gasp flew from her lips as he grasped her wrist pulling it out from behind his back to reveal his wallet between her fingers.

“Nice try,” he smiled, “but I’m not that easy.”

“Oh yeah?” she scoffed, pulling at his lapel unceremoniously, her ornate sapphire hairpin tumbling into her awaiting palm. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve.”

“I figured,” he pulled a large ruby tie pin from her inside her sleeve, each of them pulled out hidden treasures from the other, stumbling a step back when they realized they were both equally good at their game of choice.

“Have you ever considered a partnership, Nazyalensky?”

“In your dreams, Lantsov,” she leaned in, “you couldn’t keep up with me.” Her lips brushed against his skin with each word, slowly trailing down to the corner of his mouth, “even if you tried.” Turning on her heel, she was gone in a flash of silver leaving him alone in the tennis court, with nothing but the feeling of her lips grazing his skin. 

 “Hello?” The phone calls had begun a few weeks ago, the morning after he had been marked with red lipstick over his cheeks and a truth stamped over his heart. Nazyalensky’s calls had only been a minute long and every other day at first but now they were sporadic, more than five times a day at all hours of the night. Nikolai tried to ask what she was up to, all he ever wanted was to know more about the alluring woman who wouldn’t leave his mind. But to his dismay, every time he surrendered a story of his own she repaid him with a sentence or two at most, and it was usually about what she’d eaten for breakfast. As much as he enjoyed hearing himself talk he was captivated by the images the calls planted in his head, Nazyalensky soaring down a coastal highway in her convertible, the top down and her hair caught in the everpresent wind that seemed to cocoon her every movement. All he could think about was himself in the passenger seat, her sharp words cutting him before her soft lips healed them with a kiss. He was a mess.

“Are you going tonight?”

“I RSVP’ed but I’m not sure, I heard Morozova won’t be attending.” 

“Get your suit pressed,” she snapped, “you’re picking me up at 7 and you better not be late.”

“I’m picking you up, oh however did I get so lucky? But he’s not going to be there tonight, we should spend the evening strategizing instead.”

“First off, there is no, ‘we,’ Lantsov, get that through your big head. Secondly, he will be there tonight.”

“My sources are never wrong, Nazyalensky, if they say he’s not coming--”

“He’ll be there,” she jutted in. “He’ll be there because I’ll be there.”

He froze, an uncomfortable weight setting in his chest. What was that supposed to mean? 

“ Seven, Lantsov.”

“Seven,” Nikolai agreed.

  The glimmer of streetlights danced against her hair, illuminating the shimmer of Nazyalensky’s vibrant orange dress, the fabric catching her every movement and he swore his heart had stopped when she first stepped out to get into his car. She had been quiet the entire car ride until now, “are you done staring yet?”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure you weren’t, and I don’t look magnificent tonight,” she replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder, the tension easing between them as they fell into the easy back and forth that had become nearly natural. “Your car isn’t what I was expecting.” 

Nikolai raised a brow, “what were you expecting?”

“Something flashy and obnoxious, I don’t know, a Bugatti?”

“If I had a Bugatti do you really think you would’ve found me with your hairpins up my sleeve?”

She cut him a disbelieving glance, “I don’t know what to make of you. You say so much about yourself and yet I feel like I hardly know a thing about you.”

He let out a measured breath, she already knew more than anyone else did, she was wrong about that, yet this tale stuck in his throat unlike all others. “I wanted something with as much character as me,” he began, “after my issues with Morozova, this was one of the few possessions I still owned.”

“What do you mean?”

Nikolai drew in a breath, if he had any hope of understanding what she’d meant on the phone earlier, he had to be willing to show her his hand, as much as the stubborn, lonely part of him protested, he knew he wanted to do this. “My family is wealthy. They have traditional values like the rest of their friends, ideas about passing their dynasty down to their eldest son, that type of thing. Or it was. I’ve always known that the people who rely on my family’s services deserve more than them, they don’t care about helping them, not really. I’ve spent years, since I was a boy trying to be better, trying to make myself into someone who could take care of the legacy properly. It was working, I thought they were going to agree. I went away to university for a few years, tried to help in new ways, from a distance, but when I came back, there was nothing left.” He glanced at Nazyalensky and she only cocked her head at him, waiting for him to continue. He’d never told anyone this story before, and he still wasn’t sure why he was telling her, someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“Morozova, an old consultant slithered his way back into their lives the moment that I left. He knew my older brother wasn’t clever, was easily manipulated, and so that’s what he did. He and my brother turned the favour his way, cheated me out of everything I had fought to earn, and convinced the board that Vasily should get to take over, with Morozova pulling all the strings of course. When I heard word of it, I came back immediately, but it was too late, they had written me out of almost everything. I was left with no money, no power, nothing. All the plans I had came crashing down and now, I know that if I can get rid of Morozova’s influence, my family might see sense.”

They sat in silence until Nazyalensky spoke again, “that’s more… noble than I was expecting.” 

 “I might look like a feckless rogue but I’d like to think that I possess an endearing quality or two.”

“You seem like you’re anything but feckless, a rogue, however? That seems much more likely.”

He winked, “for you, Nazyalensky, I could be as roguish as they come.”

She turned away quickly but Nikolai didn’t miss the pink flush in her cheeks at his words, grinning to himself. Although he had just revealed his biggest secret, he didn’t find himself particularly regretting it.

They continued in a comfortable silence until a loud ring cut through, a few blocks from their destination. “What’s up, Tamar?” he asked, accepting his friend’s call on the car’s display. Yes it was an old car with character, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t spruced up the technology to his liking.

“He’s not here,” she replied, Nazyalensky’s head snapping towards him at this, her eyes darkening.

“What do you mean? I thought he was supposed to be there?”

“He’s in Italy, he’s not coming.”

Nikolai let out a sigh as his partner’s head fell back against her seat, her fingers curled tightly into her palms. “Thanks, Tamar, I’ll talk to you later.” Another wasted opportunity, and he had believed Nazyalensky when she had insisted on Morozova being there. He knew there would be other chances, but it felt like he was running out of time, that if he didn’t hurry Morozova would find him out and try to finish him for good.

A sharp hiss from Nazyalensky drew his focus to her, and he saw that her unfurling palms were scored with crescent shaped indentations, the result of her nails pressing into skin. As she began to curl her fingers inwards again, his hand shot out, stopping her with the press of his palm against hers. The red light before them allowed him the briefest second to realize what he’d done, pulling his hand back to the wheel. “I—” he began, only to be cut off before he could apologize.

“Morozova, he had this school that he started when he was young, barely older than the students himself. He cultivated talent. Pitted students against one another and chose the best ones-- the ones most useful to him, and would take them under his wing.” She was staring straight out the windshield, her gaze distant, her eyes hollow. “Can you guess what I was?” She let out a humourless laugh. “I was talented and would do anything he asked without hesitation. He used that and when someone who suited his needs better came along, I was thrown aside, as if I’d never mattered. Not just me, it happened to us all. I don’t want to ruin him for my own hurt, but for theirs too.”

Her eyes met his in the front mirror and he nodded at her to continue. They had been driving in circles as they’d shared their stories, and he wasn’t going to stop until he heard the rest of hers.

“The reason I stopped being his favourite was because a new student came along. And whenever she called, he would come. Maybe a small part of me thought that since my name was on the list, he would come tonight. Is that foolish?”

“No,” Nikolai returned with quiet honesty. “It’s not.”

Her eyes seemed troubled as they met his again, but her tone was cool when she spoke. “Zoya. Zoya Nazyalensky.”

“Nikolai. Nikolai Lantsov.”

“Nikolai,” she hummed, pulling out the syllables, as if testing the feeling of his name against her tongue. “ Nikolai .” Saints, he didn’t think that his own name had ever sounded sweeter. “What do we do now, Nikolai?”

“We wait, and we try again. Now that we’re working together we can come up with a better plan and make this work.”

“Okay,” she nodded slowly, “but what about tonight?”

“I could drop you back off at home? There’s not much use going if Morozova isn’t there.”

“I share a too-small apartment with a couple who is disgustingly in love and it’s date night, I think I’d rather not.”

“And I share a too-small houseboat with a set of twins who wake up at 4am to do combat training in the living room.”

“We could keep driving,” she suggested, her voice low, fingers dancing over the dashboard as she awaited his reply.

“We could keep driving,” he agreed, trying to keep his focus on the road as Zoya’s head came to rest gently against his shoulder. Nikolai knew this particular luxury would cost him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

  “Zoya Nazyalensky and Nikolai Lantsov.” His voice was filled with a quality she’d never heard before but found that she quite liked. It was a mixture of indolent arrogance and jauntyness, a rare combination, but she supposed nothing was too out there for Nikolai, the last few months had been filled with him surprising her daily. Whether it was stories of his past, or his friendships or exploits, she found herself listening raptly, as if she couldn’t turn away. And she didn’t want to. His stories painted the world in a way that made her hunger for more. In a way that made her believe, for a few silly seconds, that she could get on his boat and sail away from it all. And then he would drop her off at her apartment and the second she walked through the door, the magic was shattered and she remembered that she existed, not in the textured fantasy world spun by Nikolai’s silver tongue.

With a quick glance at their invitations and a wave, they were making their way to table 2 as instructed. Zoya’s arm was looped lazily through Nikolai’s, but they were both on high alert tonight. They had received personal invites to tonight’s function, and while they were planning a much longer game than springing on Morozova today, they had ultimately decided that their strategy would be to convince Morozova that they didn’t want to strangle him on the spot. Easier said than done, her fingers were itching to wrap around his greasy throat, and they’d only just gotten here.

Whether he would buy it or not was a whole other question, but their plan relied on him being cocky enough to underestimate them or to want to keep his enemies close. Drifting through the crowd, Zoya was able to pick up more than a few of the whispers at tables, each one making her want to roll her eyes a little bit more than the last. 

"She’s the girl who locked Nikolai Lantsov down.”

"I heard she blackmailed him into taking her to parties.”

“I heard her parents are forigen millionaires and the Lantsovs who are in crushing debt want to be bailed out.” 

“I heard she’s the lost twin to the princess of some country or the other and they need his money to keep up their lifestyle.

“I heard that she knows black magic and seduced him into being devoted to her, that he spends his weekends feeding her grapes like she’s a queen.

Zoya leaned up, her lips brushing his ear, “that’s my favourite one.” 

She watched him hold back a laugh, “if you wanted me to feed you grapes, you could’ve just asked.” 

“Who cares about grapes, are you or are you not going to fund my jewelry-hungry long-lost twin sister?”

He gave her an incredulous look, “with what money?”

Biting back a smile of her own, they settled at their table, Nikolai’s knee brushing hers as it jounced underneath the table, more whispers flooding over them now. 

“Nikolai Lantsov used to ask every single lady to dance with him before the party was over, even the old ones.”

“Nikolai Lantsov used to come over and sit at our table for hours and listen to our stories.”

“Nikolai Lantsov used to be the most eligible bachelor in town before she came around and locked it down.”

“Did you hear that, Lantsov?” she mused, leaning over to adjust his crooked bow tie. “Apparently I’ve locked it down.”

He let out a huff, “apparently?” 

Zoya rolled her eyes, tilting his mouth down to hers, smiling at the glint in his eyes as she murmured, “definitely.” Definitely locked it down.”

                         Nikolai awoke to a hand flopping against his abdomen halfheartedly, what on Earth?

“Come closer,” a tired voice groaned, “what good are you if you can’t warm the bed.”

He shuffled closer, “you’re sure there’s no other reason I’m here?” he questioned.

“No.”

“An interesting way of getting me into bed but who am I to question your methods?” Nikolai teased, grinning at Zoya’s look of annoyance. It was first thing in the morning and he considered himself nothing if not a man of routine, and a part of that sacred routine involved annoying Zoya into affection as soon as she woke up.

“As if I’d ever let you into my bed,” she growled, flipping her back towards him.

“That’s interesting considering how I’m in your bed right now.”

“Oh that can be easily fixed,” she nudged him off the edge of the bed, relishing the groan of impact as he hit the floor. 

Nikolai sighed, figuring that he very well couldn’t spend the day lazing in bed with Zoya anyways, as much as he wanted to. He found his clothes flung in opposite sides of the room, putting on a piece at a time until it came to his shoes.

“Have you seen my loafers?”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoya replied, her voice muffled from the pillow she’d thrown over her head in an attempt to drown him out. 

“Does that mean you haven’t seen them?”

“Your shoes sound as pretentious as you.”

“That’s not helping,” he muttered, spotting a wagging tail with a familiar looking shoe in his mouth. Nikolai couldn’t believe that this was his life now, half dressed , trying to extract his ridiculously expensive shoes from his girlfriends’ dog’s mouth while she laughed from above.

“Give it back.” The puppy refused to relent, disappearing back under Zoya’s bed, undoubtedly gnawing on Nikolai’s leather shoes even more now that he’d dissented. “Well, I guess I can’t leave now that the dog’s got my shoes.”

“Goodbye Nikolai.”

“Zoya, your dog has fully destroyed my shoes.”

“Oh no,” she groaned, “his taste is as shit as yours.” 

“Good thing I keep another pair here,” he sighed, glaring at the dog. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he murmured, kissing a chaste kiss to her hair. This was their routine now, nights spent planning and talking, falling asleep on the sofa, waking up to the cold, Zoya back in her bed, with Nikolai’s arms wrapped around her.

He had already reached the doorway when he heard her speak. “Or,” Zoya’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “You don’t have to leave.”

Nikolai paused, “what are you asking?”

“I’m asking you to stay.” 

The words were sweet music to his ears, but he wanted to check she was certain. “Are you sure, Nazyalensky?”

Zoya turned onto her side to face him, her midnight waves cascading over her shoulder, her bronze skin glowing in the lazy late morning light. Nikolai was sure that he must have died and been taken to paradise. How else would he be fortunate enough to have woken up entangled with the sight before him?

“Stop staring and get in,” she grumbled, “before I change my mind.” 

Nikolai slipped back into bed, letting out a sigh as the covers enveloped him again. He would much rather spend the day here, like this.

“Get your frozen toes off of mine!” Zoya hissed, cutting through his moment of quiet. 

“They’re not that cold,” he groaned, pressing his nose to her cheek as she tried to squirm out of his grip.

“Why is your nose cold too?”

“That’s what you get for hogging the covers.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously, “I don't hog the covers!”

“Of course you don’t,” Nikolai soothed, pulling her to him as she rested her head against his chest. “You’re an equitable bedmate.”

“Damn right.” she huffed, her eyes starting to sink closed already. “I’m the best.”

“How long am I allowed to stay this time?” Nikolai murmured against her hair, unsure if the response would be the same as always, the usual until the morning. Something had changed, and he didn’t want to shatter the precarious nature of today’s agreement, but he had to know.

“How about forever?” Zoya mumbled, half asleep. “Forever.”

Nikolai’s heart had likely come to the conclusion months ago, but it was then that his head caught up. This was it for him, he didn’t think he would ever love again, not after this. Forever sounded like the perfect amount of time. 

“Forever,” he agreed, slipping into sleep after her.

[kat-tamin]

all the pieces fall right into place

For Women of SVU Week 2021: Day Three: “It was always you.”

Ship: Kat x female!Reader

Word Count: 831

Warnings: Liberal use of the Useless Lesbian Troupe, language

Title from: So it Goes... by Taylor Swift

You paced your apartment. Living room, dining room, kitchen, hallway, bedroom, and back again.

You’ve been wearing paths into your carpet for the last twenty minutes, since receiving a text from Kat.

Can we talk? I’m not far.

There were two major problems with this message. One: the formal language your best friend of over fifteen years used. Two: Kat never texted before coming over; she usually just showed up.

Your stomach dropped when you read it. Something was obviously wrong, but what? Had she gotten hurt? Did something happen to one of her family members? Was she being held hostage, and this was some sort of signal? Did she get a girlfriend?

You stopped in front of your refrigerator to look at your collection of photos. Kat was in most of them, the earliest being a photo of you both at a junior high dance. They showcased you and Kat growing up, terrible hairstyles, acne, and finally your glow-ups.

The scrape of the key in the lock sent you scrambling back to the living room, plopping down on the couch just as the door opened. 

“Oh, hey Kat!” You faked an easy, casual tone, covering up your beating heart.

“Hey.” Kat’s face was stony, and your stomach twisted.

“What’s up? You said you wanted to talk?” You gestured for her to sit beside you. Kat instead took a seat in the chair across from you.

This was not good.

Kat sighed. “I just can’t keep ignoring what happened. And you doing that was pretty shitty, Y/N.”

Your brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t even acknowledge me after what happened last week. It really hurt!” Kat’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

You thought back to last week, trying to understand what she was talking about. You had gone over to her apartment, and she had ordered food. You split a bottle of red wine while watching Netflix. It was a normal night for you guys, even if the meal was oddly formal: lamb, with asparagus and potatoes.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” you said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We had a good time.”

“Was it?” She jumped up, and started pacing in front of you, taking the same route you did. She paused, and said: “And the kiss?”

You blinked. “The kiss?”

“I kissed you.”

You remember now. Before you had left, Kat had pressed a kiss to your lips. You thought it was a mistake, that she was going for your cheek and had missed. You didn’t mention it to her later, because it was just an oops.

“Wait, you meant to do that?” you exclaimed, your mouth dropping.

“Of course I did!” She shook her head, exasperated. “That’s what you do at the end of a date, Y/N.”

“We weren’t on a date.” You frowned, a headache starting to form. This just didn’t make sense. But Kat was on the verge of tears. “Were we?”

“I asked you,” she said, her voice tight. “I called you and asked if you wanted a date night in.”

“I thought you meant as friends! Like girls night in!” Your cheeks felt very hot. “I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

Kat finally sat next to you, grabbing your hands in hers. “Of course I do. I have for a long time.”

A memory of a previous conversation popped into your head. It was during a night out; you were both looking for someone to talk to at the bar.

“Kat, what’s the kind of person you want to marry?” you asked her, a little tipsy.

“Hmm…” She touched her chin in thought. “Someone ridiculously attractive. Thoughtful, smart. Ambitious.” She grinned. “Someone like you.”

You gasped, burying your face in your hands. She meant you, it was always you. “Oh my God, I’m such an idiot!”

Kat laughed, a faint tension still in her voice. “I thought you hated our kiss, and just ghosted.”

“No!” You rubbed at your forehead. “I did like it. I just didn’t understand what you meant. I’m so stupid.”

Your statement drew out a true laugh from Kat. “Wow, no offence, but you kinda are. I thought I had made it very clear that I asked you on a date. I lit candles and everything.”

“I thought you just wanted mood lighting!”

Kat put an arm around you, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “How about this: Y/N, will you go out on a romantic date with me, with the intention of maybe eventually becoming girlfriends?”

“Yes.” You beamed. “Kat, I will go out on a romantic date with you. Because I have a crush on you, like the useless lesbian I am.”

“You’re the useless lesbian, and I have a crush on my best friend.” She sighs, smiling.“We’re a bunch of WLW cliches, aren’t we?”

You snuggle into her embrace. “We really are. Should we save time and rent a U-Haul now?”

“Duh.”

[ruby-whistler]

Ayo curious anon here- im gonna rewatch rewatch the vod and take note of every single punch and why it appears to have happened then we can compare notes. Also i am interested in your opinion on relaxx's post :0 also if u want a vid rec i know a cool vid where someone replied to a dream apologist who;;; excused exile but it also brings up some interesting points :0

alright, well good luck! my focus was more on the fact that c!dream didn't start punching first until the very end (he did punch back a few times but that's not what i was tracking), and c!tommy was punching him the entire time beforehand, so if you count more "first punches" for the very ending i don't think that would matter that much, but if you have something beforehand that's a discrepancy on my part feel free to tell me :]

i'm not going to watch it for myself because i'm afraid they'd generalize dream apologists based on that one person and make a lot of assumptions that don't apply to me + use possibly insulting, emotionally charged language as a result, but if there are good points you'd like to debate about feel free to send those!

as for relaxx post ( link to the original ) i have a reply written up with my opinions, so yeah;

/dsmp /rp

i was going to put in a first part saying how this is biasedly worded and insinuating that c!tommy was somehow protecting his family by standing up against c!dream during the negotiation (which really was the other way around, him being reckless and endangering them) but i don’t wanna seem aggressive or condescending so i just deleted that. they have emotions about c!tommy and they see him in a certain light thanks to that and i respect that enough not to bother them.

the majority of this is about c!dream anyway, which is more my playing field.

“it didn’t even work because dream didn’t care about spirit”

basic misinterpretation by someone not knowledgeable about the character besides watching c!tommy’s pov. obviously this is not true in the slightest, c!dream has proven time and time again that spirit’s leather is what he cares about the most right after his friends - he traded one of the discs for it, and he had sentimental attachment to the horse. him saying later that he doesn’t is not him revealing anything, or maybe even lying (there’s different interpretations of that scene - in my opinion it’s more of a decision than anything).

of course i do agree that c!dream is manipulative. the reasons for that can be debated, but he is. i wouldn’t call him a “master manipulator” - that’s reserved for people who not even the audience notices are being manipulative despite the obvious red flags, but c!dream is very much manipulative - he’s just the only one people notice, which isn’t really pro of him /j

“dream tells tommy he cut off all attachments, he abandons and stops talking to his friends”

he did stop talking to them… after they abandoned him. small mistake, big difference in the way we see the character.

“he tells tommy among other things that he “does it all because it’s fun and he’s playing with his food” “no, i just like to cause chaos” “i’m doing this so you can have an origin story. the perfect hero origin” “i can make us immortal together!” we don’t have a way to confirm or deny these as true/false since we don’t know what dream’s thinking, but. sadly they appear to line up with his actions.”

no, it doesn’t. it doesn’t line up at all with the way he talks to… anyone else, or with his character in general. it’s an intimidation tactic to cover up his true intentions and make himself out to be more of a threat because he wants people to be afraid of him - that’s what gives him power, basically. threats and ultimatums are what gives him the most control over others even if he has no real power, so it’s important people fear what he could do or what he would be willing to do, rather than what he actually will.

“sapnap actually visited dream in prison and dream seemed to care more about using sapnap to get to ranboo then sapnap himself. ouch.”

have they. have they not watched the video where c!dream spends the first like 98% writing in a book about how he wants c!sapnap and c!george to come visit him again and trying to convince c!sapnap he can get better and be let out and meet again? where he only asks for c!sapnap to deliver the message like half a minute before the end? where are they getting this info from? because this is outrageously incorrect, i’m sorry but what even lead you to that conclusion?

“i am actually fully on board with the idea that dream lied, and that he does still miss and care about his friends! i consider often (because i like angst lol)! when dream finally gets his pov, we might learn about this. because we don’t know what he’s thinking. he could be missing them every second for all we know! it could all be one master plan to make them like him, or save them, or something. dream is innocent until proven guilty. as far as we can tell, he wasn’t lying. and he did cut off his friends.”

i think from everything that’s happened before and after the scene it is obvious he does in fact care about them. he did emotionally isolate himself, he did “cut himself off” (moreso by not reaching out than actually doing anything for himself), yes, but that doesn’t mean he wanted to or that it didn’t hurt him.

“even if it turns out he actually loves them, he still treated them awfully by abandoning them as he did”

i… don’t remember that happening, i’ll be honest. they left him and they never came back, so it’s much more on them than it is on c!dream that their relationship fell apart, although he technically could’ve tried harder. however, that’s only c!sapnap and c!george - he still proved to care about c!punz during before the finale, and even during the prison he still shows attachment to c!techno.

i could give examples of him caring about his friends, and will if asked (that’d take a while because there is a lot of canon evidence but honestly it’d just make me very happy so i wouldn’t mind), but in general it’s not that difficult to see that he… does care about people, as hard as that is to believe, and yes, he did hurt them indirectly because it hurts to see people who used to be important to you spiral to the point of doing terrible things, but i wouldn’t say he made c!sapnap feel terrible, especially during the prison visit when c!dream is very obviously Going Through It.

also i highly dislike the anon’s attitude. there’s no need to be that aggressive, like what the hell dude. everyone can have their own interpretations and opinions. in my eyes, this is sort of biased and partially incorrect, but maybe let people exist on the internet.

[meltwonu]

| caffeine |     [chapter 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; daddy kink, minor dumbification, name calling(like once) but also soft wonwoo!! 🥺💕 we love soft woo in this house!! thank you for your continued patience y’all! I love u 💕 take care of yourselves, drink water 💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x - x - x - x - x - x

For the next couple of days, you continue to text Wonwoo; somewhat shocked that he was quite responsive to your messages. Something about him struck you as the ‘left on read’ type initially, then you realized you didn’t really know much about Wonwoo in actuality.

On the flipside, you avoid the library all-together, getting your work done at home where you can actually focus and get the shit done. Also because you start to worry that people like Mingyu, who reads you like an open book, will start to take notice of your sudden frequent visits to the library that you normally only went to once in a while.

Wonwoo texts you a few times asking if you’re okay and you wonder for a second if maybe the fox-eyed fratboy actually cared about your wellbeing and you reply back each time, letting him know that you’re fine and just preferred to get work done at home for the time being.

He doesn’t ask any further.

Except this time when he texts you on a Saturday afternoon after his shift at the library, you can’t help but be curious what his intentions are. He asks you to meet him at a cafe, citing a time and location without any further instructions or details. You know for sure he doesn’t have any classes since it’s a saturday so he must be free all day. And you contemplate telling him you’re busy, but you figure it can’t hurt to see what he wants.

When you show up to the cafe on Saturday, you’re running late by a few minutes, power walking into the shop as quickly as you can while your eyes search for Wonwoo. He probably came here right after his shift, you think, fuck, I hope he wasn’t waiting long.

“Hey! Over here!”

Turning, you see him at a corner table, two drinks already present while he puts the book he was reading away. “I was kind of wondering if you weren’t going to show up.” He smiles at you kindly as you sit down and for a moment you wonder if you’re really meeting the same Wonwoo.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I woke up late so…”

“S’okay. Happens all the time and anyway it’s Saturday so most people sleep in. Anyway, I ordered you a caramel macchiato, I didn’t really know what you wanted to be honest.” His voice turns shy, mumbling towards the end as you choke on your own spit. This could not be Wonwoo.

The Wonwoo you knew was cocky and domineering; full of mesmerizing charm and unending smirks when he fucked you. This Wonwoo in front of you matched his usual outward image; shy and reserved, avoidant eyes when you try to make eye contact.

“Oh, uh, this is fine! Thank you. I kinda realized we don’t really know much about each other, huh?” You end with an awkward laugh, picking up your cup to take a sip.

“Yeah, to be honest, that’s why I invited you out today. I thought maybe we can… get to know each other.”

“Hu--Huh? Oh, um, yeah that… would be good.”

You can’t help but blush when Wonwoo opens the door for you when you exit the cafe.

Over the approximate hour and a half there, Wonwoo tells you about himself while you tell him about yourself, learning little bits and pieces of each others’ lives. And what you learn about Wonwoo couldn’t be farther from the one you’d gotten to know between the bookshelves.

He tells you about his archeology major; eyes lighting up when he tells you about the research one of his professors had been doing. And then when he tells you about his volunteer work at the rescue center that he usually does on Saturdays, you feel your heart doing backflips in your chest. There was no way you were going to fall for a guy from SVT House. You hated that you automatically categorized him with the rest of his fraternity but there was a reason why they were notorious in the first place.

“Hey, you okay?” Wonwoo’s worried eyes meet your confused ones. “H-huh?” He leads you onto the sidewalk, hand on the small of your back as he walks with you down the street. “I was asking you if you wanted me to walk you home or if you wanted to come to the rescue center with me. We won’t be there for long but it’s… something to do, I guess. I usually go after my shift at the library and I’m usually alone but we were at the cafe for a while so...”

You try to swallow down any weird romantic feelings that threaten to bubble up, nodding your head as you send him a small smile. “Yeah, I’d love that actually. I mean, to come to the rescue center with you.”

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon together playing with the kittens that Wonwoo had seemingly fallen in love with; watching as they followed him around while he cleaned up. You help him tidy up, only sitting down once all the chores were taken care of.

A small calico comes to sit in Wonwoo’s lap when the two of you finally get ready to leave for the day.

“She seems to like you a lot, Wonwoo. She’s been following you all day!” He laughs at your compliment, petting the cat in his lap. “Guess I just have that kinda charm, huh?” You roll your eyes, reaching into his lap to pet the, now, purring cat. “She just wants a daddy to take her home and care for her.” In a flash, you realize the fault in your wording, cheeks heating up immediately when you realize your mistake and Wonwoo’s sudden silence.

“She wants a daddy, is that what you said?” “Um, y-yeah, you know, wants… to be taken to a loving home.” “Mm. I see.”

Neither of you say any more, letting the cat get the last bit of your attention until it’s time to leave.

Wonwoo walks you back to your place after; the silence almost deafening until he stops in front of your building.

“I guess I’ll see you around then?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll, um, see you around Wonwoo. I had a nice, um, time.”

“Yeah, me too. Goodnight.”

 Mingyu invites you to a study party of sorts one weekday after his morning class wraps up, promising you there’d be food if you showed up. You agree on the count of free food, but you remember halfway to the SVT House that, yes, Wonwoo lives there too.

Checking the time, you realize it’s just a bit after his shift at the library but he has afternoon classes so you breathe a sigh of relief, continuing your walk towards the frat house. Vernon meets you at the door, ushering you inside to the living room where the others were already getting started.

“Ah, there she is! My favorite nerd.”

Mingyu slams his book shut, getting up from his place on the floor to pull you into a hug. Your eyes immediately scan around the room, eyes fixated on a certain silver haired male oddly present.

“Uhh…” You freeze up in Mingyu’s hold, tentatively wrapping your arms around his midsection for a half hearted hug. “Yeah, hi…”

“Did you just ignore the fact I just called you a nerd? Are you finally accepting your true calling?” Mingyu jokingly checks your temperature, laughing as he drags you to a spot in between himself and Minghao on the floor.

“Okay, anyways weirdo, I know you haven’t formally met everyone so say hi.” You crack a tight lipped smile, introducing yourself to the others present in the room. You realize that it’s true you’d never been formally introduced to anyone in SVT House, but it made sense considering you’d either decline their party invites and the only other few times you’d seen them were in passing. You do recognize Vernon from your Film Analysis class and Jun from the Modern Architecture class you’d taken last semester. The new faces around the room were Jihoon who is a Music Technology major and Seungcheol who is a Music Business major. Wonwoo introduces himself quietly; a twinkle in his eye when he smiles at you from across the room.

After formalities are done, everyone quickly delves into actually studying and talking about their coursework; Minghao invading your personal space to ask you for your opinion on some of the pieces he’d been working on for his Abstract Art class. You give him your undivided attention, Mingyu leaning in to also give his opinion. 

Seungcheol orders food at some point, notes forgotten for a little bit while everyone eats before diligently getting back to their studies. 

You take in account how Wonwoo opens up to his frat brothers, laughing and playing along with their jokes the entire time.

After a while, everyone slowly disperses; some returning to their rooms and some leaving for their night classes. Wonwoo stays behind. Still reading through one of his textbooks when Minghao, the only person other than you and Wonwoo, decides to finally head back to his room.

“You… wanna stay here with Wonwoo or...?” Minghao turns to you one last time, waiting for your reply.

“Oh um, I’m just gonna finish reading this chapter and then get going?” You turn to Wonwoo who meets your eyes. “Yeah, I’ll see her to the door when she’s done. You can head back to your room, ‘Hao. I got it.”

Minghao nods, already heading towards the stairs to leave you and Wonwoo alone in the living room.

You give it a second, making sure everyone is truly out of the living room before you clear your throat.

“I thought you had afternoon classes, I was surprised you were here.” His eyes never leave his book, fingertips at the corner to flip the page.

“It was cancelled today. Thought I’d supervise their study session or else they’d just goof off. It was nice to see you today though, princess.”

Blushing, you slam your book shut on accident, placing it on the floor next to you. “Y-yeah, it was nice being here today. I’m shocked they really hit the books too. I’m so used to Mingyu missing class from his hangovers, to be honest. Who knew he could really focus when he needed to, huh?” The two of you share a laugh, already starting to tidy up.

“Um, I guess I should head out then? I don’t want to be out too late so…”

“Yeah, um, did you want me to walk you back?”

“No! Uh, I mean no it’s okay! The sun’s still out anyway and I need to run by the store so I’ll just walk back myself. Thank you though.”

Wonwoo walks you to the door, a firm hand on your waist as he escorts you. In actuality, you hadn’t seen him since the prior Saturday when he’d taken you on the little outing, which you didn’t consider a date, and even this time he hadn’t even tried to lay a finger on you. And in theory, you should have been glad at the distance but part of you genuinely missed his physical touch.

“Well, I guess… I’ll see you?” Ah, familiar words.

“Yeah, who knows, maybe I’ll actually swing by for a party if Mingyu invites me next time?” He smiles lopsidedly at you, squeezing your waist before letting go.

“Get back safely.”

“W-Wonwoo, hah, pl--please more…”

“Mm? Who’s Wonwoo? Shouldn’t you be addressing me properly? And what do you want more of, sweetheart? Use your words.”

You press the vibrator harder onto your clit, grinding into your own palm. Wonwoo watches you through the phone that’s set up haphazardly on the bed in front of you, his own hand in his sweats as he strokes his cock. “Ah, c-can I add another f--finger? P-please… daddy…”

He chuckles darkly, a soft groan on his lips after as he watches your fingers disappear into your pussy.

“Think you deserve it, baby?”

“I---I, ah, I dunno, daddy…” You let go of the vibrator, letting it fall to the bed next to you. “H-Haven’t I b-been good for you, d-daddy?”

“You have, sweetheart. My cute babygirl was so good for me. You can add another finger.”

He watches you ease in a third finger, moans spilling from your lips at the stretch. You give yourself a second to adjust to it, hips wiggling once the initial sting subsides.

“Look at you. So desperate to get your cute ‘lil pussy filled. Y’kno, you were so cute earlier. Sitting in between Minghao and Mingyu and studying like a good girl. Maybe we should try cockwarming next time, hmm? I could read you some poems while you sit on my cock.”

You moan at his words, clenching around your fingers as you thrust them in and out. “A-ah, that--that sounds n-nice...”

“Yeah? You wanna sit on daddy’s cock while I read you poems?”

“Mmhmm… Yes, daddy… w-want your cock..”

“Aww, my babygirl only knows how to take daddy’s cock, huh? Why don’t you get your vibrator for me again.” You reach for the discarded item, fingers still knuckle deep inside of your pussy as you moan out.

“W-what next, daddy?”

“What do you think, sweetheart? You get your pussy full and now you can’t even use your head? Hmm? Can’t even think straight?”

“M’sorry…”

“I want you to turn it up to the max setting and put it against your clit. Make yourself cum for me. Let me see you.”

You whimper when the harsh vibrations meet your clit, toes curling against the bedsheets. “I see your legs trying to shut, princess. Don’t make daddy angry.” Nodding, you try to keep your legs open towards your phone for Wonwoo to see, trying to watch him on the screen through bleary eyes.

“Is d-daddy gonna cum s-soon too?”

“Mmhmm, let me see you cum first, baby.”

You pump your fingers faster, using your other hand to keep the vibrator tightly pressed against your clit.

“M-my hands are gettin’ tired, daddy…”

“I don’t care. Weren’t you the one who called me? Telling me your panties were wet and you needed to get off? Begging me on the phone to help you cum?” You whine, the urge to cum rising. “Daddy, p-please keep talking to me… I’m close...”

“You like it when daddy talks to you? You’ve barely even watched me this entire time while I’ve had my hand around my cock. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there fucking you.” Wonwoo moans, hips canting up into his own fist as he watches you. He’s close to cumming too, wanting to cum with you.

“Fuck, baby, cum for me. Cum with me.”

You cry out, body arching against the sheets when you cum. You can vaguely hear Wonwoo’s moans in the background as well, too focused on your own pleasure to fully pay attention.

The vibrator falls out of your tired hand just as you feel the air back in your lungs, slowly slipping your wet fingers from inside of you.

“Mmm, is my baby tired now?” You look at your phone through foggy eyes, shaky legs still spread wide for Wonwoo to see your glistening folds.

“Mmhmm..” You decide to give him one last show, bringing your wet fingertips to your mouth as you lick them clean.

“Fuck, you’re a filthy ‘lil slut.”

You giggle, popping the digits from your mouth. 

“Yeah, but I’m your filthy ‘lil slut.” 

[hamihamstik]

idk what the fuck did i do to yeah get ready for visual cancer and my bad writing.

´´John, that's enough! ´´ claims an annoying Alexander, a 17-year-old boy who attends Columbia University, this boy had charming eyes of a blue color combined with violet and a curly hair dyed a strong brown that He could almost look red, not forgetting his beautiful freckles which were scattered all over his face. He had to admit that he was very feminine and his height and body did not help, he was very handsome among women and men although he denied it. Taking her hands off his insistent boyfriend, John, the ones that only managed to scare him.

And it was October 31 and instead of going out to party with the boys or the Schuyler sisters, he could even stay with Gil or George and Martha but no, he had decided to stay with John in his apartment, to watch movies, taking advantage of his parents and siblings are not there.

Serious mistake.

You're a coward. . .''John jokes, continuing with the pinches that distract the freckled, in his attempt to pay attention. They were watching the Japanese version of ´´The Aro´´ and the truth is that Alex was on the verge of a heart attack, he was not good at horror films, although he had a masochistic taste for these types of films.

´´John, seriously. . .Y-stop! ´´ he asks in a not so convincing way, noticing how the blond's hands begin to slip through his clothes. Alexander knows that they are alone and that they will probably do "that" to take advantage of the time together; he resists anyway.

deep down he liked that Laurens wanted more of him.

Come on, you know the end. They all die, '' he whispers in Alex's ear and although he knows he is right, his hoarse and excited voice is what disturbs him.

In less than he expects, he's already got John on top of him and he's collapsed on the bed in a struggle actually. . .not so forced. And that although he does not want to admit it, Alexander likes that rude and daring side that he rarely showed and despite that, it was ´´Jack´´ who started this type of encounter, mostly to commit indecent acts and explore the joys of sex.

´´ Why don´t you stop Lex? ´´ jokes John with a little impatience and his cock is too erect. ´´oh! I don't know, maybe it's because I have a fucking fear that a woman will appear from the TV and kill us? ´ 'Alex sarcastically responds, with a small blush peeking out of his freckled cheeks and managing to get a small laugh from both of them. Listening to Alex's melodious laugh, for John it was music to his ears, but, if he had known this was going to happen, he would have put him in one of those 80's movies, with those he hadn't had any problems the last time.

"It doesn't matter, we'll fix it," he says, smiling confidently and pulling his pants down on his embarrassed and sarcastic boyfriend. Leaving those slender and shapely legs in sight.

He didn't need his dick to lift anyway, as long as he loosened it would be fine.

´´J-jack, u-hm. . . ” Alex gasps when he feels Laurens's tongue brush against her belly button in circles, as his hands venture up his thighs, spreading them wide open. In the background you can still hear the screams of the horror movie.

Movie that they will never finish seeing.

"Do you like it?" Jack asks between gasps and his cock about to burst. He had spent minutes preparing hard the contracted entrance of his dear boy, who would not stop panting and letting out moans that made him lose what little patience he had. ´´Y-yes. . I think I'm ready," he announces to which John, instantly, unbuttons his pants. Releasing his aching erection.

´´Ngh. . . Alex´´ John moans hoarsely against his ear, at the same time that he aligned his cock in his tight entrance, without waiting any longer, the blonde enters suddenly, drawing a groan from both of them at feeling so complete. It didn't take long when he began to thrust into his ass, as the sound of the bed and their sexual release filled the room. For a moment, none of them feel the noise of the film anymore. They are both gone in that dance of sweaty bodies that invokes pleasure and to which they have become addicted without knowing how.

Until something rings.

´´What was that? ´´ asks Alexander to the busy John, who doesn´t even flinch at the loud sound. He is still very immersed in his work of going out and going into the depths of his being.

A second noise is heard.

'' John. . .´´ Alex insists, starting to get really scared. It sounded like knocks, coming from the first floor. ´´Alex, for the shit stop squeezing me ngh !. ... it must be a fucking bird crashing into the window.´´ he tries to calm him down, feeling how his member is compressed against his insides, every time the freckled body tenses.

"What if he is your father?"

The blond's face pales at the horrendous possibility.

"Shit, get dressed!" He says, completely leaving his entrance, and then running off to get their clothes. He throws Alex's clothes at his face, ordering him to stay in the room and for no reason leave there, until verifying if he is his father.

He doesn't know about their relationship, nor that Alexander is in the house. . His presence of him there would be something very annoying to explain.

(…)

The minutes pass and John does not return, Alex begins to worry.

´´John? ´´ he asks once in the kitchen, he chosen to go downstairs anyway. They had spent several minutes without knowing anything about her boyfriend and now she was really scared

He walks towards the front door. . .

It's open.

. . .

With a little chill through running her body, he quickly goes to the kitchen for something to threaten his possible aggressor. He takes a knife, but since he does not consider himself a murderer, he decides to exchange it for a large meat grinder. At least with this one he could take down the possible intruder, before escaping.

Alexander, barely breathing, creeps into the house. There is no noise in it and no sign of John. So, drawing courage from him, he does not know where, he goes outside through the backyard door, where the entrance to the shed can be seen ajar.

A stain of what appears to be blood can be seen on the door of this and causes the freckled young man to collect his heart. Then, shivering and tears streaming from his violet eyes, he enters desperately.

´´J-jack? ´´ he asks with a shaking voice and gasping for breath. He does not see the blond, because it is very dark. He advances looking for the wall switch and then. . .

Then he steps on something that made his blood run cold.

´´AHHHHHHH !! ´´ he yells when he steps on something similar to a body, then realizing that it is just a very battered scarecrow. He breathes a sigh of relief and luckily for him, he finally finds the light switch.

He turns it on.

´´AHHHHHHHHHH !!!! ´´

Alexander runs terrified of the place before what he saw. A shed full of blood-red stains and something that looked like guts scattered on the floor, but what had scared him the most was the dark cloak one that he could make out at the bottom of a corner.

It was that of a person.

. . .

Alarmed, he enters the house and without being able to reach the bathroom, in the kitchen dishwasher he begins to vomit. His body trembles and tears of deep pain fall from his eyes, as he thinks about the possibility of what he saw spread across the walls and floor. . . was his jack

-Hey, don't you think we went out of line?-

-Shut up dumb.-

-oh god, I can't anymore.-

-It was your idea, I'm just following you, asshole! -

-my idea?, it was Ben! -

-Don't blame me for his perversions, when Alex finds out he's going to hit us with that butcher's machete.-

Three young people comment on their joke while hiding in some bushes, unfortunately, precisely the ones facing the kitchen.

(…)

'' Shit, we're more than screwed. . .´´ are Benjamin's words as he sees Alexander open the bushes, revealing his hiding place. His face overcomes what is anger. His eyes are still red from crying and his serious gesture is one of complete hatred.

And he still has the machete in his hand.

"B-ben, weren't we going to the party?" Hale asks Benjamin, who nods nervously, because he knows that if they don't get out of there. . . . they will go very badly.

Alexander although he seems a weakling, but he has strength.

And a machete.

´´y-yes´´ supports him ´´ well dude. . . take care! ´´ Benjamin says goodbye, slapping John on the back, in an attempt to give him support. Although rather, it is a gesture of condolences to his sexual life.

Tonight someone was going to stay without fucking.

(…)

´´Alex,. .hey. . .´´ He tries to get closer to the redhead, taking care that the minor does not split his head.

´´NO! ´´ Alex jerks away from the arm that is trying to take him. "DON'T TOUCH ME, YOU'RE A DAMNED IDIOT!" He shouts angrily, trying not to give her the satisfaction of seeing him break into tears.

Although he was already doing it.

John, like few times in his life, feels bad about the things that

he does. And he had never seen Alex like this.

Crying as if his life were lost on it, and with so much sorrow in his eyes.

This time,

He messed it up.

´´Alex, sorry. . .´´ he whispers and makes a second attempt to get closer, which this time, if it seems to work. His dear boy is so sad and hurt that he does not resist when John embraces him, pulling him close to his body. ´´ I already told you I'm sorry, I'm fine. . Come on, don't cry. . .´´ he tries to calm him down, stroking his back and giving him small kisses on his face full of small salty tears.

'I-I thought you were dead. . .I-I saw all those things and. . .´´ Alex tries to speak but only starts crying again. John, feeling like the worst beast in the world, accompanies him in bed. Laying him on his bed and settling aside to caress his face, guiltily, until he stops crying. Spreading kisses down his cheeks, which were now red as was his nose.

´´J-john no. . .'' Alex tries to stop him when he sees him approach his lips to his face, with the intention of kiss him. ´ ´I v-vomited´´ he confesses ashamed, hiccupping from crying.

´´ I don't care, it's okay. I can clean you with my tongue. . .´´ John insists, speaking flirtatiously to make him laugh again. He likes Alexander who usually laughs, who cries in this way hurts him, and more to know that it was his fault.

´´Stop your nonsense. . . . Can we sleep? ´´ asks what Laurens, trying to control her sexual / depressive urges, nods.

He would have to stay with it this time.

They both snuggle up, covering themselves well with the blankets and giving each other a couple of kisses before going to sleep.

A noise is heard again

Alexander, snuggled against Jack's chest, looks up. John, annoyed, decides to ignore the sound similar to that of a while ago.

Again he is heard again.

These idiots. . .´´ he complains, taking his cell phone to give Benjamin's life sermon. When he answers him, he receives exactly that.

-Hey idiot, are you retarded or what? Stop with your shit or seriously I'm going to kick your balls, and until they come out.

But it is not Benjamin who speaks, it is more, nobody answers. The music of the party is not heard either. Only someone's breathing can be heard in response, so terrifying it makes John hang up the phone and throw it to the ground as if on fire.

´´What's wrong? ´´ asks Alex, calmer now. Jack was a little pale. And is that John, had already heard that noise. He heard it when he stood at the entrance of the house, when he went out in search of what was generating that annoying blow, and then ended up meeting his friends and playing that stupid joke for which he now feared that the freckled man would really hate him.

"It's nothing, let's go back to sleep." He replies, trying to convince himself that it must be another stupid joke of those two. Alexander closes his eyes quietly but John cannot sleep, any noise alerts him. He has a bad feeling.

´´ What's wrong, can't you sleep? ´´ asks Alex, noticing how his Jack moves too much on the bed. . . "no. . . .i have a little insomnia" he confesses, not wanting to terrify him with the chilling thoughts of him.

Where there was still someone in his home.

´´ Me too´´ Alex mentions as he snuggles deeper into John's arms. "Do you want to fuck?" Asks the blonde, to which Alex just laughs. "Jack, don't think I forgot the joke," he replies to which John huffs, frustrated, assuming there really wouldn't be sex today.

´´ although I am surprised that they were so detailed with all that of the blood, guts and that dark suit.´´

´´What a dark suit? ´´ asks John, not remembering that in the plan.

´´the one with the disguise, the dark cape.´´

´´ There was no dark layer .´´

´´ but I saw someone at the back of the shed.´´

. . .

This is when John is more alarmed than before.

And when another noise is heard, this time they can both notice

Which is from a window on the first floor. and that this time they will not be able to see the light of a new day.

Morning news, yesterday October 31, two bodies were found on 123rd Street, because of the atrocious way in which they were murdered, they could not recognize them, however, thanks to our best police officers, we now know their names. John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton. we recommend not leaving the house while we still do not catch this man.

On tv there was an image of the murderer of that couple.

who could say that John Andre's jealousy would lead him to commit such an atrocity.