#the entire hotel is driven to madness

[soapkaars]

If you think Sinsmas wouldn't be a perfect opportunity for Alastor to be even more annoying to Lucifer, you'd be sorely mistaken.

[no-144444]

making moves- l.norris

a/n: HI AND WELCOME TO MY FIRST FIC-TOBER FIC I HOPE YOU ENJOY :)))))

Day 1 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: Lando and you don't exactly get along and now you're quitting, he'll surely take it well, right?

pairing: lando norris x fem! mclaren publicist! fem! reader

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You turned the corner of the media pen with Lando’s arm in your hand. If he stepped one foot out of line, if one hair was out of place, one unnecessary giggle or joke, you’d lose your mind. You were getting sick of this, of him, of cleaning up every single one of his messes. 

“I said I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you sighed. You hadn’t studied mechanical engineering and sports journalism for years in college to become a goddamn babysitter. “Just do your interviews and don’t say anything about your relationship status, please Lando.”

He rolled his eyes but obliged, moving past you to start an interview with some sports journal.

You watched the room around you. You would miss this, the buzz of the media pen, the entire paddock, being so close in the action of your favourite sport. You wished it hadn’t come to this. You didn’t want to quit, but you were being driven mad by a 24 year old man-child, and you couldn’t take it anymore. A year and a half ago, you were being driven crazy by how much you wanted him, now, it was his party-boy ways and arrogant smirk that set you off. Lando had always been a popular driver, you understood the attraction on every level. He was a pretty, sometimes funny, and rich man. He was on the younger side of the grid, and he was talented. Christ, was he annoying to work with. He was conceited, self-centred, a manwhore, and downright difficult the majority of the time. You disregarded almost every time he was kind to you, because less than 48 hours later he would do something dickish and ruin your weekend off, or make you cancel a date to come get him from a club because he was drunk and his friends left him alone, blah, blah, blah. You were excited to finally be free of Lando Norris and his asshole-ish ways, yet, maybe you’d miss his face. Anyways, just one race left, and your two-weeks are up. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ Team dinners were simple, you usually sat beside Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend, and chatted with her about her course (the same one you took) and whatever else came to your minds. As the night came to a close, you walked Lily and Oscar back to their rooms with Lando trailing behind, texting on his phone. 

Lily pulled you into a hug. “I’ll miss you so much!” she sighed. “It sucks you’re not even finishing the season with McLaren.”

You shrugged, hugging her back. “I’ll call you, I promise. And we have Greece in January,” you reminded her. She nodded and pulled back. 

“See you in the morning,” she smiled, then disappeared back to their hotel room. 

“See you in the morning,” Oscar smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “You better call her once you land in New York, or she’ll lose her mind,” he chuckled. 

You nodded, smiling. “I will, don’t worry. And I’ll miss you too, Osc.”

He smiled, pulling back. “I’ll miss you too.”

You turned to go to your room, but Lando stopped you. “Why are you going to New York?”

“For my new job,” you explained calmly. “I’m leaving on Sunday night.”

Confusion flashed across his face, and you took the silence as a chance to leave. You brushed past him and continued on your way down the hall. 

“What do you mean you’re ‘leaving’ on Sunday night? Are you going on holidays for the weeks we have off?” he asked, catching up with you. 

“No, I start my new job the next week and I need to get my apartment unpacked and sort out my office,” you explained. 

“What? Why are you doing that?”

“Unpacking my apartment? I’ll be living there-”

“No, moving? You have a job, y-you work here, you work with me,” he stumbled through his sentence and you raised an eyebrow. 

“Did Stella not tell you? I’m leaving after the race this weekend. I sent in my two-week notice almost two weeks ago. I got a job offer from the New York Jets and I took it. Anyway, good night Lando, I’ll see you in the morning,” You continued on your way to your room. 

“You can’t just leave! What will I do without y- someone to-”

“Get your laundry and fix your mistakes in the media? You’ll be getting a replacement when I leave. His name is Will, he’s organised, and he’s quite funny. I think you’ll get along.” 

“What will I do without you?” he gritted out. “You’re meant to be here, with me, and now you’re leaving? How am I supposed to feel?”

“Imparcial I’d assume.”

“Imparcial? Y/n, come on, you can’t be that blind?” This was a different version of Lando than what you were used to. He was usually a brass and confident arsehole. Yet, here he stood in front of you, upset that you were leaving. 

“Blind to what? The way you abuse your power? The way you make me do your bidding? The way you make me cancel important things in my personal life to fit your schedule of heavy drinking? The way-”

“The way I’m in love with you?!” He practically shouted. You clapped a hand over his mouth and a surge of panic ran though you. You pulled him into your hotel room after you and sat him on the bed, then proceeded to pace the room. 

What did he mean he loved you? He hated you. He made your life a living hell. He made sure you’d have to see him everyday. He made sure you’d be in his apartment building. He made sure to-

Oh. Shit. He loved you. 

“Y/n,” his voice was soft. “You need to calm down.” 

You turned to him. “Calm down? What the fuck do you mean ‘calm down’? I’ve just spent the last fucking year and a half burying any and all romantic feelings for you, tried to hone in on all of your flaws to make myself hate you, quit my job to get away from you, and now you’re telling me you love me? What the fuck Lando?!” 

“You had romantic feelings for me?” He blushed. 

“That’s what you got from that?!” 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, alright. We can work this out, just tell Andrea you don’t want to quit-”

“Lando I’ve accepted the job offer in New York, I’ve signed the contract. I can’t back out,” you sighed, putting your head in your hands. “You really have great timing,” you scoffed. 

He smiled, placing his hands on your waist. “Then we’ll make it work,” he shrugged. “I want you, if you’ll have me.” 

You looked up at him. Were you really doing this?  Lando Norris was your typical male celebrity in his twenties. He had everything he could ever want, any girl he could ever want, and he wanted you? Every insecurity and logical bone  in your body told you to run away. You’d seen what the internet did to girls he was seen in public with, let alone a girl he actually came out and admitted to dating. Was he worth being torn apart for? 

“You’re killing me here,” he laughed to hide his fear. He’d waited a year and a half for this moment. He wanted you more than anything. He wanted to be able to call himself your boyfriend and get to call you his girlfriend. He wanted you around him all the time. Every time he’d found out about a date you’d been on or met a guy you’d been seeing he was filled with jealousy. He was yours, he just needed you to be his too. 

“Lando, I don’t know if this is a good idea-”

He pressed his lips to yours and it was undeniable. This was what you had been searching for. That stupid ‘spark’ all those rom coms talked about all the time. Kissing him was like fireworks. He brought your hands up to wrap around his neck and smirked when you kissed him back. You fit together so perfectly, his lips against yours, your skin against his, everything. 

You pulled back slowly. 

“So can I be your boyfriend now?” he whispered, the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Only if I can be your girlfriend,” you smiled back.  He pressed his lips to yours again. Maybe he was worth being torn apart for.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff

[understandableparadox]

a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

[turnupswritessometimes]

Butterflies - Ch5 - Lies of P/Alice Madness Returns

Relationship: P/Alice Liddell

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53898544/chapters/137944243

Next | Previous | First

Summary: “But why go looking for other realities, when there’s no guarantee you’ll pass through to them?” “Because it’s an experiment, and I jolly well won’t learn anything more about all this unless I try,” Alice replied.

Having figured out how to slip in and out of Wonderland entirely, Alice Liddell sets off on a journey to find more realities around her own. When she follows a blue butterfly to Hotel Krat, she meets P. The more time they spend together, the more they feel as though there’s someone else out there, just like them.

Chapter Five: Which Explores the Difficulties of Dancing

Alice was, for once, very glad that she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Cheshire Cat. She could only imagine his riddles and teasing about the whole situation. She could waste her breath and tell him that she was only interested in saving Krat – the proof of which was her venture onto Rosa Isabelle Street that afternoon – and Cat would still insist she was losing her head over a boy.

The worst part was, that wasn’t incorrect. She lay on the luxurious bed of her hotel room, in a borrowed nightgown, and found she could only think about P. It wasn’t that he was a puppet; that seemed by the by, now. It was his hesitant smiles, like he was still learning how to do them. It was his bright blue eyes, and the way they saw everything. (The way they looked at her, as though she was something special.) It was his earnestness and openness, his insistence that his father gave him a weapon for an arm because he loved him.

P was created to fight. But he was so much more than that.

Alice stared at the shadows of tree branches on her ceiling, and wondered if she was the opposite.

She still didn’t hugely know what she was doing in Krat. P said he was bound for the Grand Exhibition next; the alchemists called it their base. They had been experimenting with Ergo, he explained, and might know more about what caused the Frenzy and the petrification disease.

“They might know more about—” And then he had stopped short, and hadn’t continued. He’d his behind his dark hair.

There was something he wasn’t telling her. That was nothing new, for Alice, but she hoped he would be able to soon. She’d had enough of secrets – that would make Cat laugh, if he was here. Didn’t Alice have so many secrets of her own? Secrets that would change the way P looked at her, she was certain. How would he look at her, if he knew she was mad?

For now, she was helping P to prepare for his attack on the Grand Exhibition – because there would be enemies there. That’s what she would tell Cat, though he would smirk wider and make even more sarcastic comments. She rolled over, pulling the covers more tightly to her chest. If she was honest, she knew the other reason she was staying in Krat. She also knew that it was pure foolishness.

It was foolishness that her heart had beat so wildly when P stood so close to her. She was not a silly young girl, driven to silliness whenever she was close to a young man. Alice half-wished she was – but she was too jaded for that. She’d never had a problem with snubbing boys before – she didn’t have a problem snubbing Venigni.

It was just P. She couldn’t’ stop thinking about how it felt to have his hands on her waist, on her wrist, butterfly-light, as he showed her the right posture for fencing. Couldn’t stop thinking about how he had walked through the steps, just behind her, his face so close to hers. So close, she could see his freckles; see the gentle curve of his eyelashes. He had been so there and kind, and gentle, and that was what was different about him. No one had been gentle with her like that, before.

None of that touch had been necessary; he might not have even realised what he was implying by being so close.

But Alice wasn’t going to tell him that.

*

It was at Lady Antonia’s request.

Alice and P had returned from scouring the streets for pipes, or saws or throwing cells that would be handy on his charge on the alchemist’s headquarters. Anything that he could use as a weapon. They returned covered in oil. P’s arm had needed mending, and Alice had a bad cut on her arm which needed seeing to. It was Sophia – whatever Sophia was – who helped her bandage it.  Her hands were capable and practised, as though she’d done this several times before.

When Alice ventured back downstairs to find P talking with Polendina at the desk. Polendina nodded his welcome at her, and she couldn’t help but notice how jerky his movements were compared to P. P, who offered his arm to her, like a gentleman. She suspected, from Gemini’s faint chirp, that he’d told him to do that.

Part of her wished he wouldn’t; it made her feel like a lady, and she most certainly was not. But a much larger part of her wanted to believe that fairy story. To be the Alice that she could have been, if her family had survived. So she brushed her hair behind her ear, and put her hand on his elbow. Let him lead her into the rooms where Antonia sat, and she thought that was only polite: that they keep the lady company in the evening, especially as she was so sick.

They listened to her reminisce about the heyday of the hotel, when it was bustling with guests, despite the rumours it was haunted. About the wonderful dinners and lavish parties held there, before the frenzy and the petrification disease.

“Polendina would play the piano and this room would be full to bursting with dancers,” she said, her eyes shining and distant. “And I’ll have you know, I had my fair share of partners, back in my day.”

P nodded, and Alice smiled to think about it. They were the kind of parties her parents threw; the kind that Lizzie got to go to, but not her. She’d been too little. She’d only ever heard stories about such parties.

“What I wouldn’t give to see the room alive like that once more,” Antonia leant back in her chair, and sighed. She looked to the pair of them, and there was a glint in her eye. “You know, you two make a charming couple. I don’t suppose you would humour an old lady, and recreate the past for me?”

  P nodded again, almost without thinking. Not because of any obedience, Alice realised, but because he wanted to; he was clearly devoted to Lady Antonia, and wanted to make her happy. It was a simple request, after all. Most other girls Alice’s age in London would be able to oblige.

But Alice could not.

Still, admitting that she could not was the more mortifying choice. Instead, she nodded, and murmured that she would fetch Polendina to man the piano. His response was “Of course, I would be delighted,” and she wondered if he could even say no. Either way, he moved much too eagerly for her liking.

She stepped to where the desk lifted up to delay him, if only for a moment.

“There’s just one problem,” she hissed. “I have no clue how to dance.”

“That is simply fixed.” At least Polendina’s voice came out quieter. “Just follow your partner’s lead, Miss Liddell.”

Not the most comforting advice. She couldn’t hold him any longer without it being suspicious. Alice stepped aside, and let Polendina head to the piano. She glanced back, to see Sophia at the foot of the stairs. Sophia nodded, and smiled in an encouraging, albeit unhelpful, way.

So, she trailed back though, as Antonia was turning her wheelchair around, and Polendina was taking a seat at the pianoforte, and P stood, waiting for her. At least he looked as adrift as she felt; stiff, and formal. She stopped, a few paces away from him.

“Can you dance?” she whispered, looking up at him.

“I think I know,” P replied. It was still better than her, so she nodded, as though she thought she could too. As though they were not about to make fools of themselves. She heard Gemini whisper from P’s belt, and he held out his hand again. And again, she took it. Had to move a step closer, and had to take a breath before she let her hand rest on his shoulder. It felt solid; like a rock in a storm.

His own hand hesitated before he took her waist. His legion arm; his weapon. She could feel the cold of the steel through her dress. Aside from that arm, the rest of him was warm.

Polendina began to play.

P started dancing. He stepped as lightly as he did whilst he was fencing. That was good, Alice realised, it wasn’t so different from fencing. She could follow his steps, and pretend that there were still doing that. The only difference now was allowing him to take some of her weight; to tug her, when she was moving too slowly, like a buoy in the sea.

How terribly unladylike, she thought, to compare dancing to fighting.

But she felt distinctly unladylike, and distinctly out of place. Not because she was out of her own reality, but because she did not belong in a hotel like this. Did not belong at a party, imagined or otherwise, and shouldn’t be dancing. Did not belong opposite this boy.

His blue eyes were soft, and he had the impressive ability to be able to dance without glancing at his feet once. His hair drifted softly with the movement as they turned. This close, she could see the freckles on his nose and cheeks. She thought she could see constellations in them, if she stared long enough.

The thought made her stumble. Just slightly, but just enough to make her aware of her own shortcomings. Her heart thudded, and she felt electrified with nerves.

The piano music continued; lilting and beautiful; the kind of thing Lizzie would play on a Spring morning. Thinking of Lizzie made it easier; Lizzie would know what to do now.

“How do you know this?” she whispered. They were making a path across the room, under Antonia’s nostalgic gaze, and were hopefully too far away to be heard properly.

P paused. A strand of hair fell in front of his face, and he didn’t have a free hand to brush it back. “The same way I know fencing.”

It was something Geppetto had given him. Like fighting. What else did he know – innately?

“You’re a good dancer,” P murmured. He lifted his hand to spin her. She managed to not look too much of a fool, her skirts flaring round her as she turned. When she returned, she clutched his shoulder more tightly.

“Liar,” she said.

And he looked cowed, at least. “I try to only tell kind lies.”

Kindness made her feel itchy. Her cheeks felt hot again. P always looked at her in that strange way when she blushed. As though he was surprised and intrigued, which only made her feel more flustered.

"You don’t have to be kind to me,” she said, much too aware of her boots clacking on the tiles.

At least P’s shoes were loud too. He tilted his head to one side, and that strand of hair moved with him. “Why not?”

Because kindness and Alice were strangers. Because most people who seemed kind wanted to use her. Because she didn’t know what to do with kindness. She didn’t know what to do with this boy. She didn’t know what she was doing at all, dancing and pretending that she was any kind of respectable girl.

How could she forget who she was?

Girls from asylums did not dance with kind boys.

Girls like Alice did not dance with boys like P.

They had stopped. The blood roared in her ears too loudly to hear if the music had also stopped. She stood in front of P, a hand on his shoulder, and a hand curved into his, and felt a rush of embarrassment. This was ridiculous, she was ridiculous, she wasn’t Cinderella.

She was a fool.

Alice stepped back. She saw P’s eyes widen in surprise. But he didn’t stop her. Not even when she turned and ran from the room. She ran all the way up the stairs, not noticing if Sophia was there or not. She could only focus on finding the door to her room tugging it open, and slamming it behind her. She pressed her weight against it, her cheek to the wood, listening for any sounds of a pursuit.

There was the faint murmur of voices, but nothing else.

She sunk to the floor, and tried to breathe deeply. If she wasn’t careful, she’d slide back into Wonderland. She could, and then she wouldn’t be in Krat anymore. She could leave.

But she couldn’t bring herself to.

*

P listened to the footsteps disappearing up the stairs. Listened to Antonia tutting and murmuring, "What a pity." Listened to his springs ticking and turning.

He stepped forward, to follow. There was the distant slam of a door.

Gemini chirped when he reached the threshold of the doorway. "You might want to give her some space, pal."

So, P stopped again, like that was an order. He knew that he didn't want to stay there, after that. He made his way to the foot of the stairs, and lowered himself onto the bottom ones. There was silence from upstairs. He heard Lady Antonia talking to Polendina, reminiscing about the old days, again.

He clenched and unclenched the fingers of his legion arm. Alice had looked – scared. Her green eyes had been wide and her grip had tightened on him, just before she let go. She'd been scared because he asked why he shouldn't be kind to her.

And then she’d ran.

"What happened?" he asked Gemini. It was the same thing Gemini often asked him, but that was always about monsters.

"Beat me. I don't think anyone knows what goes on inside a girl's mind."

P narrowed his eyes at him, but Gemini only chirped in response. He clenched and unclenched his fist, as he thought. It had been going well, before that. He'd understood the music and how to move; as easily as he understood wielding a sword. He had enjoyed moving to it with Alice, and how it felt to hold her – as much as he could, when he was a puppet. She'd looked beautiful, with the yellow light casting a halo on her hair and her eyes shining. His springs had felt like they'd kicked into double time, like a butterfly rapidly fluttering its wings.

"The best way to find that out is to ask her."

It was Sophia. She leant over P's shoulder. A strand of her blue hair had fallen from its bun, and swung forward.

"I don't think she wants to talk to me," he said. It was just like that first evening: he’d upset her, even if he didn’t know how, or why.

Sophia raised her eyebrows, though she was smiling softly. "I think you should try, clever one. You might be surprised at the outcome."

She even offered a hand to help him up. He took it, but made sure to take his own weight; Sophia looked so fragile, he was sure he’d pull her over.  She brushed lint from the shoulders of his coat, and straightened the lapels, as if he was truly courting a girl. When he didn’t move, she raised her eyebrows again, “Go on.”

So P did. He dimmed Gemini, and made his way through the hallways of the hotel, towards Alice’s room. Even then, he paused outside the door, listening. He didn’t hear anything at all. He supposed that was better than hearing sobbing.

He knocked. And waited. There was no response.

P’s springs felt coiled tighter. The hotel was supposed to be safe, but what if something had happened? Even worse, what if Alice had left? He opened the door on impulse, ready to fight – and found himself standing in a dark, empty room. It did feel haunted, when he was left staring at the silhouettes of furniture, and trying to find a human in-between them.

She wasn’t here.

But the window was ajar. A faint breeze fluttered the curtains.

P headed towards it, catching the handle to stop it blowing open completely.  He paused again, peering onto the windowsill. It was a wide stone windowsill, with an iron railing, with more than enough space for someone to sit. He saw a flutter of blue skirts in the wind.

He stepped out, onto the stone – and there she was. Alice sat against the corner of the iron railing, her knees to her chest, and her head buried on her knees. Her hair fell around her.

“Alice,” he said her name without thinking. He liked saying it, he realised.

It made her jump. She looked up, startled, and blinked. “P.”

He didn’t know what to do now, not even whether to sit or stand. He watched as Alice brushed her hair from her face, and wiped the heel of her hand over her cheeks.

“It’s rude to barge into someone’s room, you know,” she said, but she wasn’t scolding him. Her voice cracked a little, and she hugged her knees closer to her chest.

“I was worried,” P said. He slowly lowered himself, to sit on the other end of the balcony. The sun had set, painting the city in indigo and black. It was too cloudy a night to see any stars. “I thought I’d – hurt you.”

Alice sounded tired. “You didn’t hurt me.”

P waited, but she didn’t say anything else. He fiddled with Gemini’s lantern, watching her. His light cast a soft, amber glow over the two of them. Sophia had said to ask, but suddenly that seemed like very daunting. The silence stretched between them, and Alice still didn’t look at him. He thought she was trying very hard not to cry.

“Did I upset you?”

“It’s not you.” Alice sighed. She covered her face again, hiding in her dark hair. “You’re…perfect.”

He blinked, his springs jumping. “I was built to be perfect.”

She made a sound that could have been laugh, or a sob. He found himself shifting closer, on one knee, reaching out to take her shoulder, but it didn’t land.

“I’m not the girl that you treat me as,” she said. If her voice had cracked before, it broke entirely now. She took a long breath. “And if you knew the truth…”

She looked at him. Gemini’s light reflected in her eyes, casting spidery shadows over her cheeks. Strands of dark hair hung in front of her face. She looked sad, P thought, sad and scared, and that was terrible. He didn’t want that.

His hand hesitated, for a moment, before he leant closer, and brushed the stray hairs from her face. He tucked them behind her ear, and though her breath caught, Alice let him. She didn’t pull away. Her fingers grazed his wrist, but she didn’t take hold of his hand.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

Alice took a deep, shuddering breath. She closed her eyes, and he was sure he saw the glimmer of tears on her lashes. Yet, when she opened them, they were focused, and determined.

“I was in an asylum for ten years,” she said, and dropped his wrist. “I was considered quite mad.”

Perhaps she expected him to call her mad too; to be repulsed by her; to treat her differently. He didn’t; it was impossible to; unthinkable. She was still Alice. Still, he moved slowly, giving her the chance to pull away, if she wanted, and laced their fingers together.

“You know what an asylum is?”

P nodded. He knew. He didn’t think it mattered. Especially when she had accepted him, too.

“So, you see, I am not a lady of any kind,” Alice said. “Not anymore. I’m just – insane—”

“You’re Alice,” he said. He took her hand in both of his, all too aware of the cold metal of his legion arm. He cradled it, as if he was holding Spring. She didn’t flinch at his mechanics. She didn’t move at all. “You survive storms at sea to help save cities, and won against me in a fight—”

“We drew.”

“And you’re kind. You only agreed to dance for Lady Antonia, when you didn’t know how.”

Alice shook her head. P tightened his grip, hoping that he could make his expression display everything that he felt.

“You’re Alice,” he repeated.

Alice, who looked at him as though he was mad. “You’re impossible.”

But her mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile.

Before she sighed, again, and shifted closer, her other hand on top of his.

P didn’t need Gemini to tell him what to do, though he felt him buzz against his hip, excitedly. He untangled his hands, to put his arms around her shoulders, instead. Gently, giving space for her to slip away, if she wanted to.

Alice didn't. She fell against him, her forehead bumping against his shoulder, and her fists clutching his shirt.

For a moment, he froze. She was so close and so warm and he hadn't expected her to do that. But it was good; made him warm in response; gave him the confidence to hold her properly. He rested his cheek against her silky hair.

"This is mortifying," Alice said, into his jacket. "I'm not usually like this."

"I do not mind."

"I don't suppose you do." She sniffed, shifting so her cheek was against him instead. Her weight pressed fully against him in the twilight, and she seemed so light. He revelled in the feeling of her.

"It's just..." Alice took another shuddering breath. She might still have been crying, but P would not embarrass her further by looking. "The dancing made me think of Lizzie, and our life before, and how that's what I should be."

P didn't understand all of that. He didn't know who Lizzie was, or what 'before' truly meant. The words, he thought, were only half-meant for him. They were mostly Alice talking to herself. Asking about it might upset her even more. Still, he turned over what he did understand. He said, softly, "Then you wouldn't be you."

"I wouldn't be mad."

"Mad is what they call what they don't understand," P concluded. Alice made another sound, but didn't argue this time. He held her as tightly as he dared, his hands pressed against her back, and he could feel her breathing. Her skirts spread over his knees. P told her about the woman in the window. The woman who'd asked him to get her baby back, and he'd only been able to give her a puppet. The street sign had called her mad. It would be easy to call her that. But she was grieving and in despair and no one wanted to understand that.

Alice's breathing evened as he spoke. He could feel her breath against his cheek. Her hair smelt of roses.

"That was one of the first lies I told," he said. He tried to be very still, as though he had a bird on his hand he didn't want to disturb.

"What was the very first?"

"The hotel doesn't allow puppets. I told the door I was human."

He dared to look down at her, then. She watched him, the moonlight shining on her eyes. It made her lashes look very long and dark, and her skin very pale. She looked like a fairy, and his heart thudded as if he was in a fight. Alice’s hand shifted. Her fingertips grazed his cheek.

"I think you're more human than most people."

[grayintogreen]

Pinned Post 3: The Threequel

New year, new pinned post.

My blog contains multitudes. Main fandoms right now are Critical Role, Dimension 20, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, and Bleach, but I will also go unhinged and start reblogging stuff from things like Inuyasha/Yashahime, Pokemon, Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, Yellowjackets, Guardians of the Galaxy, LOST, Alias, and Wicked. Maybe I even have opinions on them. They're generally positive.

This is a chill blog. If you want negative opinions/critical opinions, go elsewhere. For the most part. If something makes me mad enough to even rant about it a LITTLE BIT, then it definitely fucked up somewhere, but I try really hard to not be a little hater on main.

I'm a multishipper who does not care what you ship, just don't be a little dick about it. I won't come to your house if I don't like your ship. You don't have to come to mine.

I love redemption arcs and people figuring out their shit and turning over a new leaf. This is a theme you will see a lot in my writing.

I also like body horror, dark themes, and weirdly? Happy endings. But I also like tragedies. I just love stories, guys. All stories are valid.

I work in retail management for a popular chain and knowing that gives you full perspective on how done with all petty bullshit I am. I'm also very old, very autistic, and very tired.

I write A LOT. My AO3 is also grayintogreen.

I talk A LOT about my writing and fics, especially my two big series life in the margins of redemption (LitMoR) and red roses and dead things (Roseverse). It's a sickness. More information below.

life in the margins of redemption: a For Want of a Nail Critical Role Campaign Two Canon Divergent series, is a duology (with additional side stories) that takes the alternate path outlined in the Harvest’s Close session notes- Cree rescuing the Nein from the Gentleman’s wrath should they betray him- and takes it a step further with Cree reviving Molly on the Glory Run Road and traveling with the Nein in the hopes of finding a way to bring Lucien back. It is extremely Canon Divergent, but does feature CR2 plots under radically different circumstances and with additional characters. It’s worldbuilding heavy, character-driven, often dark, but has a guaranteed happy ending. You may heard of it as “that 1.5 million word fanfic series.”

It is not canon compliant with TNEOL as I had finished OUADYA before TNEOL came out. While I use some elements from the novel, the backstory presented for Lucien and the Tombtakers in the series is entirely different.

character sheet.

tumblr tag.

LitMoR Vibes (vibe tag)

Voice Claims

red roses and dead things: A canon divergent (sensing a pattern here) AU of Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss that goes AU after Hazbin Hotel 1x06: Welcome to Heaven and Helluva Boss 2x10: Ghostfuckers. It is an ensemble series that focuses on the conflict between Heaven and Hell and the sordid history therein, Alastor's deal, various interpersonal drama, and Charlie growing into her power as a leader.

character sheet.

tumblr tag

this too is Roseverse (vibe tag #1)

Roseverse vibes (vibe tag #2)

Voice Claims

[mi4017thesandukandevidanalge]

Film Review

The Shining

(Subtle) "The Shining" (softly) If you're someone who's never heard of a film and happens to watch it in the cinema, you probably won't be impressed. After all, in murder plots, movies tend to whisper. But why would a single word unsettle you? What does it mean? Is "The Shining" in the film about the cycle of death, or is it about the maze leading to the unknown, confinement, despair, and madness? When people slaughter Native Americans in the name of justice, when people, driven by desire, find themselves trapped in a maze and resort to cannibalism, when a hotel caretaker murders his family, and ultimately when a mad writer sells his soul for fleeting power and greed, ascending into the maze only to perish in desperate flashes of light.

I find this film to be nothing short of a poem, with its marvelous composition, cleverly arranged eeriness, and psychological implications woven through intricate details. With its flawless screenplay, every scene advances the plot seamlessly, making the lengthy narrative feel remarkably compact. Even the criticized opening scene, ingeniously linked through road layouts and shots of the hotel, focuses on those fleeing, cars with lights on in the daytime, and those stopped, cars involved in accidents; amidst eerie settings, the protagonist journeys toward the hotel of horrors. Swiftly, through several key scenes — a count that can be tallied on two hands — all the keys to the film are presented, leaving the rest to the viewer's interpretation.

Like the arrangement of horror in haiku, even the answers are extended through off-screen implications. How can such a film not provoke thought? How can one not reminisce about the characters? I truly admire the director for effortlessly condensing countless scenes, efforts, and reshoots into this two-and-a-half-hour masterpiece. What mastery it requires! Truly worthy of a maestro.

However, truth be told, I don't consider "The Shining" to be a film that truly encapsulates his efforts, considering it's based on Stephen King's novel. With its abundant conflicts of gender and race, what significance does such content hold for him? Is the entire film crafted merely for those two insignificant and irrelevant pedophilic episodes? Or is it a discourse on conspiracy theories, hinting at the Apollo moon landing hoax? Is it the protagonist's hysterical justifications expressing his conflicted desires to admit and deny? Or is it for the vindication of a Beatle?

Yet amidst all these details, the most evident implication seems to be reincarnation, akin to being trapped in a maze where one endlessly turns corners but still moves forward. Either tempted by desire and driven mad in solitude, or gradually retreating step by step, leaving the maze, escaping the labyrinth of the beast Daros. The beast's hypocritical humility serves to sell your soul in madness, dancing for insanity, one should beware of losing oneself. Do not be deceived by the facade embellished by authority, for within the strong lies the stronger, within the weak lies the weaker. Though a domineering husband may oppress his gentle wife, the wife is the reliance of the helpless child, while the husband is powerless before his superior. Clearly branded as a societal failure, the protagonist, amidst the hotel's meticulously crafted compositions, dons a shining crown symbolized by a chandelier, blinded by the power within the crown, he ventures into the labyrinth of authority. Able to surveil his family freely within the hotel, akin to overseeing the maze. Hence, when his wife attempts to flee the hotel, Jack defends it as their abode, demanding, threatening them to stay. But where there's no perpetual weak or absolute strong, Jack loses his way in the labyrinth.

The office scene resembles a voyage of the soul in an office, although Ullman, in his neutral manner, outlines the risks of Jack's impending choices, Jack, unswayed by Bill's guidance, insists on meeting Satan, whether lured by the devil or the demon within. Yet, he is blatantly deceived within the hotel. Initially the one his wife cares for the most, due to the hotel's machinations, she abandons him, plummeting him into despair. Yet he willingly descends into hell, "selling his soul for a drink" (a line from the movie), then signing a contract amidst the crimson toilet, preparing to dispose of his family, relishing in power. It's rather intriguing, as Carl Jung's concept of the unconscious speaks of the hidden evil within human nature. This suggests that those who consort with demons are the demons' cohorts.

However, what I find most intriguing is whether the hotel itself qualifies as a character. If something serves only one function, one purpose, an unchanging meaning, then it should be deemed an object; but if it can change, act, think, possess character and will, then where lies the distinction from a character? Are the two little girls, the woman in the bathroom, the crowd in the hotel ballroom, and the hotel staff not part of the hotel? If the protagonist Jack is part of the hotel, could the hotel not be an extension of him? Seeing the two paintings on either side of the bloodbath scene, the flying bird from "Afternoon in December," the hunter from "Hunting Camp," wouldn't they symbolize not only Jack but also the hotel?

There are many more details in this film that I cannot list all at once. However, regarding the theme of reincarnation mentioned earlier, it doesn't only manifest in the protagonist but also in society. Society squeezes Jack into failure, causing him to seek solace from his family. But from a perspective of racial discrimination, from the recurrent massacres of Native Americans to Jack's final decision with the hotel to avoid Black intervention, society seems to also be squeezing the hotel chef. Could it be that the ability of the hotel chef, the chef's grandmother, and Danny to have the shining is due to their status as oppressed individuals, traversing through women, ethnic minorities, and children, three vulnerable groups? Perhaps the entire film is about the cycle of power dynamics? Who knows? Truth be told, the film is formidable, truly a masterful horror piece, but as for its depth, I haven't really pondered much.

[reiketsui]

"LISTEN" >:)

the entire trip back from goldenrod is silent between them. well, not entirely silent – both of them easily slip into the business casual talk when meeting up with the client on board the magnet train. words spoken in a tone completely different to the one they used with each other, both of them knowing exactly how to treat a business partner of this caliber in order to keep up a productive streak between rocket and his company.

yet the words exchanged on the roof of that building repeat themselves in his mind to a point of madness. he is unsure what had prompted him to speak up – as he's equally unsure what pushed him towards the first proper kiss in the hotel room all those years back, when death was looming closer than ever before.

the cruel irony of two solitary beasts wrapping their bodies together in a moment of yearning passion, the beacon light of the radio tower flooding the room in maroon hues. archer never forgot a single second of that night, despite of his mind having shut out the majority of events of the era.

how could he forget?

he'd kept the leash firmly wrapped around proton's neck up until that, until the very night before what could've been their last day alive. they'd sworn to lit goldenrod ablaze were they to fail, if their message wouldn't reach their leader or he chose not to return – they wouldn't go out with a whimper.

in that moment, archer had thought about detaching the collar and telling him to run and save himself from the certain death he was leading them towards – despite of knowing that proton would have never listened to a command like that. just like all those times he had driven the man away in a fit of unstable rage, only for him to return to linger near the door of his office. it was only archer's own, selfish desire in the moment. i meant to spare you from this.

the door closes behind them as they enter the dark apartment, an exhale getting firmly stuck into his throat as he's pinned against the wall. he holds his breath for a split second, the arms draping around him telling how this is a continuation of their previous conversation cut short. archer has no intentions to push it too far – it's already a heavy mental toll, for both of them. they made a promise not to talk about it for a reason. everything between them is left behind closed doors, both physical and mental ones.

his arms make their way around proton to tug him in closer, close enough to keep their eyes from meeting – it's almost too much to bear as it is. there, surrounded by the dark, quiet apartment with the saffron city neon lights shining through the large panoramic window, archer feels more vulnerable than ever before.

" for whatever it is worth, i don't think you're a coward, " the words are quiet, enough so to mask away the fleeting emotion. " i thought about running away too. can you imagine– " he shakes his head, giving an almost pained chuckle. it's a horrid, shameful confession for him – the man whose reputation was built on being the shining beacon of loyalty. but he, too, had had his moments of doubt after they were abandoned without a word. the thoughts questioning whether all of their pain was worth it.

" –but i wanted to spare you more than i wanted to spare myself. in that moment, i would have been– content with an outcome like that, " his words remain firm despite of everything, the hesitation only lifting its head moments before the last sentence leaves his lips. " you held me above the surface through everything leading to that night. " / @chounaifu / pin my muse.

[jetstream-sam-b]

So I'm now officially homeless. Today is my last day in a hotel room. My asshole of uncle kicked me and my family out of the house we've been living in for two years thanks to my grandma's kindness. And he has her convinced that for those two years, we were using her money to buy everything. We weren't. I really truly love my grandma but she's 72 so of course she believes him because she doesn't know any better. We've spent every penny we ever earned on my uncle and his family and my grandma. I'm far less upset out my grandma though because again she's 72. At least we have a car to live out of. I'm with my mom and my brother, but I'm 15 so I can't really do anything. Do not even try to help us please, random people of Tumblr. We won't take your help, we won't even take the help of my friends. I am so done with my uncle and his bullshit. We go to drop off sodas, and they glare at us like were the worst people in the world. All we did was eat two cheese sticks from a single pack they bought when they eat literally all of them from the like 60 packs we've bought, and they get mad at us. They accuse us of stealing a mountain Dew with us sitting right there. They accuse my mom of being a bad mother when she's done a hell of a lot more for her kids and their kids than they ever have. I honestly am glad I was sitting in the car waiting to be driven to school when the fight went down. It was just screaming but still. If I was in there I'm afraid of what wouldve happened. We can't even go back to grab more of our stuff st the moment. I'm going to probably take a break from Tumblr for a while. If you read this entire thing, thank you. I'm sorry it was so long of a post but I honestly needed to say something and was only able to do it here because these people have the other social media's I have when none of them know what Tumblr is. I will be back, but not for a while

[earlgreydream]

time for us.

| loki x reader | angst | fluff |

anon requested. loki has been working a lot lately and hasn’t really had anytime for the reader and he completely forgets about their anniversary and she doesn’t tell him for a couple of days but then he snaps at her and they have a huge argument

a/n: this doesn’t have any spoilers for the show— just mention that Loki works for the TVA (which isn’t canon at the time of me writing this)

You loathed Loki’s new job, working for the Time Variance Authority.

Ever since Loki began at the TVA, they’d managed to occupy nearly all of his time and energy, leaving little to none left for you. Your relationship was strong, but only a few weeks of work had put a strain on the two of you.

He’d become more short tempered, and easily agitated. You tried to be patient, but little things seemed to antagonize you, and soon every small thing was becoming huge.

Above all, you hated to fight with Loki. You bottled up your frustration, shoving them down inside of you and keeping them hidden and locked away. Your limited time with Loki was precious, and you didn’t want to poison it with your annoyance. However, it was doing damage that you hadn’t yet comprehended, building a pressurized weapon that was bound to explode.

It took weeks, but the explosion came.

.

Loki had been so caught up in work that he missed your anniversary. It had escaped his mind entirely, passing like any other day. He was distracted by variants running wild, and the need to please his new boss. He felt responsible for things that were going wrong, and he had put your relationship on the backburner.

You’d been certain he’d take you out during the night, or at least do something to acknowledge the anniversary of your love, but you’d been dead wrong. You waited at home as hours passed, and when his normal arrival time had long passed, the pain in your chest grew until your entire body was throbbing with hurt.

You took your makeup off, along with the pretty dress you wore-- the green one that your husband adored.

Loki had stayed late at work, taking overtime and showing up just before ten. You were so hurt you could hardly speak, but Loki’s mind was too muddled with work to even notice. You were already in bed when he returned home, and he’d kissed your forehead and gone to sleep with less than five words leaving his lips.

You laid awake in bed that night, staring at the wall. You should have told Loki you were angry, said something then and at least gotten it in the open. But you shoved it down with everything else— every other hurt and grievance and annoyance that poisoned you.

.

“Can you set that down, please?” You asked, four days later. You tried to keep your tone even, but you were impatient. The bite in your words was all you could do to keep from tearing the file from his delicate hands.

Loki was in the kitchen, his face buried in a variant case file. He was supposed to be helping you make dinner, but you were dismissed and cast aside once again as his work outshined you.

“I’m working, Y/N! It’s important. Don’t you want me to get paid so you can have your pretty things?” Loki snapped, shocking you.

“No!” You screamed, slamming the cabinet door shut.

He stared at you, turquoise eyes wide in shock at your outburst. He dropped the file on the counter, a harsh glare adorning his stunning face.

“No, Loki! I don’t fucking care about the pretty things. I don’t even know that I care about YOU!” The words were coming out before you could stop them.

“You don’t care about me?! All I ever do is for you!” Loki met your anger, matching your energy and only fueling the fire of rage that was building in your stomach.

“You’re such a selfish liar! You don’t give a fuck about me, Loki! You’re in a relationship with your bullshit job, you don’t give a damn about me! All of your time and your energy... and fuck, even your kindness goes to the stupid fucking TVA!! There’s nothing left for me, and I don’t want your scraps!” You shoved him back when he took a step toward you.

“I’m selfish? You’re needy and dramatic! You’re a spoiled brat, acting out when not every ounce of my attention is being given to you. What, you’re mad that I didn’t help you make this salad? Grow up, Y/N!” Loki’s hateful words poured out, tasting like acid in his mouth.

“No! I’m mad that you forgot our anniversary and that you haven’t seen how much you’ve hurt me!” Tears burned as they streamed down your face, blurring your vision that was bleeding at the edges.

Loki’s lips parted, and realization suddenly crossed his features. He took a step back, recognizing his anger had spiraled out of control, and that your anger was justified.

“I didn’t mean it… I do care about you, I just want you to care about me.” Your voice broke, and shaky hands went to your mouth, stifling a sob. Guilt swelled in Loki’s chest as he saw you fall apart, unable to bear the weight of your anger.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know how I’ve forgotten. Please, my love, forgive me,” Loki’s tone softened, and he knelt down to his knees before you.

He didn’t care about the messy floors ruining his perfect suit, nothing mattered to him then except for you.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, I just miss you,” you were weeping, unable to hold the sobs at bay.

“It’s okay, scream and cry if you need to, but know I love you more than anything and I am terribly, terribly sorry.”

Loki gently pulled you forward, closing his arms around you. His forehead rested against your stomach, and you laid your hands on top of his head.

“I know. I know,” you stammered in shaky breaths. Your fingers trembled as you dragged them through his hair, overwhelmed with every emotion that washed over you all at once.

.

You got home from work, a couple of days after your fight. You had both apologized, easing the tension over. Loki hadn’t stopped apologizing, even when you promised him it was okay. It had been better since-- you weren’t keeping secrets or harboring anger, and you felt exceedingly better in the aftermath of your fight.

You walked into your master suite, considering a hot bath or a shower after your day. You were lost in your thoughts as you kicked your shoes off, before turning to the bed. A dress was laid out on the end of the bed, glittery heels and jewelry in a box beside it. Loki wasn’t home, but a note was attached, telling you to get dressed and he’d meet you.

You smiled, lifting the black cocktail dress. You changed, fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror. Your day at work had been long, and you didn’t know what Loki had in store for you, but you were excited.

The lock clicked open on the door, signaling the arrival of your husband. You stepped into the foyer to greet him, met with Loki in an all-black suit. A grin spread across his expression as he noticed you, making warmth bloom in your chest.

“You look-” you both started at the same time.

You smiled and tilted your head, letting him speak.

“You look beautiful,” Loki spoke softly before giving you a kiss.

“Thank you. You look sharp. What’s the occasion, what are we doing?”

“I’m so sorry I missed our anniversary. I thought we could celebrate us tonight.”

You broke into a grin, nodding excitedly.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it.”

“Of course. Let me set my things down,” he kissed your cheek and stepped into your master, cleaning up and dropping his bag.

.

You were driven to a fancy restaurant, one hand in Loki’s as the other smoothed over the wheel of his black sports car. He dropped the keys with a valet, and you were escorted to a table in the back of the place.

“Wine, Mrs. Laufeyson?”

“Please,” you nodded, and the waiter poured you a glass of sparkling pink moscato.

“I’ve gotten us a suite at the resort in the city. I have a bag packed for you in the car, I thought we could enjoy a weekend away. You deserve it,” Loki brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“You’re spoiling me,” you giggled, sipping your wine.

“As I should be.”

Elaborate French dishes were brought out on gorgeous plates, looking like something from a food blog. It tasted divine, and Loki told you some history about the dish from some time he was living or traveling in Paris. You listened to his animated stories, thinking about how you were so in love with him. 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” Loki laughed softly, spooning sorbet into your mouth.

“Because I love you. And you’re charming and cute when you get excited,” you confessed with a grin. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry about everything,” he apologized. 

“It’s okay. We’re past it. Time moves forward for us.”

Loki nodded, leaning forward and smearing a kiss over your temple before retrieving your car from the valet.

“To the hotel?” he asked, sliding his hands over your hips and kissing your neck as you waited.

“Okay,” you giggled, squirming in his arms. 

He squeezed your bum, making you gasp before opening the door for you, helping you into the passenger seat. 

When you arrived at the hotel, there was a bouquet of roses on the table, and candles burning around. He kissed the back of your head, setting your bag down for you.

“Let me make this up to you,” his voice was deep as he unzipped your dress.

“Please,” you smiled, turning in his arms and pulling him into a heated kiss. 

[riotcontrolmargera]

Hi! I love your writing! Would you write some hc’s about what it would be like to go on vacation with Bam? Fem reader. I was thinking like maybe where you would go, what kind of cute tourist type things you might do, etc. Could have some smut or just fluff, either one :) Thank you!

vacation with bam HCs

note: fluff and some light smut elements ♡

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when he presented you with the idea of going on vacation with him and him alone, you were ecstatic! you were fortunate enough to get to travel, given your boyfriends line of work but it was work related mostly so there wasn't much time for love and romance.

especially when you were surrounded by jackasses.

i imagine that packing with bam would be a nightmare, you'd be doing most of the work while he goofs off. oh! and no matter how hard you try to make sure that he doesn't forget anything, he will! he definitely will.

"babe, have you seen my socks?" "damnit bam!"

but he would definitely have the, 'don't worry, i'll just buy more' attitude when he knows damn well that's not the point.

he would also to be sure to not let you pay for a single thing, even if you insisted on paying for at least some of the trip. sure, you weren't as rich as he was but you definitely made more than enough to chip in. at least a little bit but nope! he wouldn't stand for that.

when you arrive at your destination, i think the first day will be relatively lazy to unwind from all the travelling. you'd unpack then spend the rest of the day either lounging around the hotel room together or going for a short walk around the area to see whats around.

you'd probably screw around a little too, if you both weren't too jet lagged.

the second day of your trip, bam would wake you up with all the little ideas of what he wants to do and where he wants to take you. i don't think he would be too psyched on popular landmarks because 'you can see them in books and it looks the same' but he would be happy to take you anyway.

but he would quickly change his mind when he sees the look on your face as you look up at them with an awe and sense of amazement in your eyes. that would make it all worth it in his eyes.

"isn't it amazing bam?" "it sure is" he would say looking at you instead of the landmark.

he'd take you out to dinner but make sure that the restaurant wasn't ridiculously corny and romantic... i believe that bam would have a rather unconventional view on what's romantic which i think we all know at this point. he's romantic in his own quirky little way... so, don't expect candle lit dinners often!

he is definitely the type to take photos and videos the entire trip... mostly of you and not the beautiful landscapes or landmarks. whether it's of you in front of a land mark, you in the hotel room, he'd take any opportunity for a photo or video.

but getting any of him would be a fucking nightmare.

any time that you would try and turn the camera around on him, he would pull a goofy face or pick his nose or something do something that's extremely unflattering. it would be the same in selfies.

"bam, can we please just get one nice photo for the family?" "okay, okay" and then will proceed to stick his finger in your nose while grinning. yeah... good luck getting a nice photo to send to your family back home.

i think you'd expect some calls from ape to make sure that you are both doing okay on your trip AND to make sure that her son hasn't driven you mad yet!

and i don't imagine that his shenanigans would go on vacation either... he would probably pull (little) pranks on you, run into things on purpose, you know usual bam shit.

if you went to the beach together and you were out laying in the sun, you would definitely catch him staring at you because he would think that you were the best damn thing to look at one the entire beach.

"what are you staring at?" "you look so fucking hot."

he would definitely complain about sand being everywhere but would rather quickly change his tune when you offer to take a shower with him back at the hotel.

and of course, since you're on vacation, i believe that you'd fool around twice as much (unless, that's not your thing, of course) — having all that time together with no ape, phil and the CKY boys in sight would definitely lead to much more screwin than normal (not that you don't already screw like rabbits).

[anxiousstark]

The Name of the Game | Mitch Rapp

Warnings: Vulgar vocabulary, public sex (if you squint), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), teasing, foreplaying, etc. Porn with some plot.

Word Count: 3280

A/N: First time writing smut so, please don’t kill me. This CAN’T be considered flithy after the 11k I wrote for the Dylan fic.

All Rights Reserved. The author, me, don’t allow any type of copy or adaption.

BIG MASTERLIST  | MIATCHEMBER |  KO-FI

A long dark green silky dress hugged the shape of your body, accentuating the most appealing parts of your physique. Your bareback was full of goosebumps as your hair caressed the uncovered skin. Besides, your makeup was done flawlessly, emphasising the most attractive features you had.

Your walk was confident, the clicking of your heels turning heads towards you. Your presence too big for the room. However, you ignored the desiring gazes that you received from both men and women, focusing on your mission.

Liam Zajicek was your objective. A young and attractive man who was being searched by almost every CIA agent. At the young age of 22 years old, he was probably the most searched and wanted hacker. The CIA had been searching for him since last year when he successfully altered the votes in the elections of the new president of America. However, Zajicek was stealthy, not leaving any hint that could implicate him in such a grave crime.

But the man you worked for was even more stealthy, preparing his next moves before Liam Zajicek had the opportunity to do anything. And his next move was you.

The mission was easy, too easy for you. You would be lying if you denied feeling offended for receiving such a simplistic mission. It was as lightly as seducing Liam. Even if he was a talented hacker, he was still a young man who would be sex-driven.

A man in a tuxedo walked closer to you, a tray on his right hand, lowering it so you could grab the drink you craved. Nodding while offering him a charming smile, your eyes gazed around, trying to find the man whose pictures you had studied closely.

The ballroom was full of people. Elegant dresses and tuxedos, expensive drinks, and perfumes. It was the perfect environment to seduce someone, leading them out of the public eye to kill them. However, Liam was going to be luckier as your boss wanted to be the one taking care of him.

The golden light appeared to illuminate your beauty as you wandered closer to the bar, discerning your target talking to a considerably alluring woman. Sitting in a luxurious barstool, you crossed your right leg on top of your left one, causing the cut of the dress to expose your glowing skin.

Setting your intense gaze on him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours. Your tongue wetted your lip, exaggerating the action a little more as Liam Zajicek noticed you. His mouth turned into a smirk, eyes focused on you as he ignored whatever the red-haired girl was telling him.

The music turned into a ballad. Getting up from the barstool, you walked to the floor where some couples were already slow dancing, enjoying the closeness, and hoping to bring a nice one-night stand to their hotel room. As you walked to the floor, your gaze was focused on Liam. He completely ignored the red-haired woman, walking to where you were standing.

"Are you maybe waiting for someone who will have the chance to slow dance with you?" His voice was husky, and you weren't sure if it was due to the desperation he was radiating, or if it was his usual tone.

Your left hand grabbed his right hand, placing it on your waist. "I was hoping you would be that lucky someone." Your white teeth accentuated the red rich, rosewood lipstick.

His other hand instantly grabbed your other side, dragging you closer to him while your hands rested on his shoulders. "May I get your name?"

You wanted to groan, feeling a little overthrown. You expected to have fun during this mission, have some sexual tension yourself. But the way his hands only pulled you closer, without teasing you in some way was telling you that Liam Zajicek didn't have as much experience with women as he did with hacking.

"Holland," You lied, not displaying such valuable information to someone who was a mere target. "May I get yours?" This time it was you pulling him closer, biting your lower lip.

His eyes sparkled, and if you had gotten a little closer, he would have thrust against you, rutting just there. "I'm Adrian." You tried not to scoff, knowing that he was also lying.

His hands went lower, moving towards your back. He bit his lower lip too excessively, and you tried to contain a roll of your eyes. His hips got closer to yours, letting you know that there was a bulge growing, although nothing prominent.

"So," His fingers relocated, grazing your back. "Such a pretty lady coming to a party like this one on your own?" The knife being held by your garter ached to be grabbed. "Is your dad one of those rich men?" He smirked. "Because that means it will be difficult to impress you, baby." The pet name sounded lame coming from him.

Before you could answer, the music switched. The melody was still slow, a little more sensual, and you saw people wandering around to dance with other people, bodies even closer than before.

"May I take her from you now?" A deeper voice interrupted your words. Looking beside you, a man's gaze was focused on you. The other men preferred to look at your cleavage while this one preferred to gaze into your eyes, at least for now.

Before you could answer, the black-haired man had glared at Liam, making him walk away, whispering that he would try and find you later.

"Do I know you?" You did. You knew him, and he knew you. However, you both wanted to have a little fun, ignoring the detail of recognising each other.

Mitch Rapp innocently smiled at you. "I don't believe so." You had seen pictures of him that your boss had shown you, and this wouldn't be the first time Mitch Rapp had the same purpose as you. He had shaved his beard and styled his quite long dark hair. "But I wouldn't mind getting to know such a good-looking lady."

You grinned. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to run down his chest, pressing against firm muscles. Not caring about your long dress, his left leg parted yours, resting in the middle, grazing the sides of your inner thighs. His left hand slid from your back, resting upon your butt, pulling you even closer. His face near yours, warm breath hitting your top lip while his lightly upturned nose rested against the tip of yours.

"You told him your name is Holland, uh." He smirked. His right hand was on the right side of your waist, pulling you even closer to the point where your core was placed directly on top of his thigh. "I thought I told you this type of dudes are the CIA's business, Y/N."

You smirked, tongue leaping out to wet your lower lip, accidentally grazing his bottom lip, which made him try and hide a grunt. "You know I like the excitement of ruining your plans. And if Stan gets mad, it's a plus." You grinned. "Plus my boss wants him."

"I'm going to have to teach you a lesson." He scoffed. "So disobedient, always making my job harder." You suggestively glanced at him, noticing that wasn't the only hard thing you provoked as his bulge was pressed against your core. He understood what you were implying, shaking his head. The hand that was resting on your butt went to the front, brushing your tummy while going down. Disappointment overflowed you as his fingers skipped the part you desired he would graze, going directly under your dress, grabbing the knife that was being held by your garter. "You changed the place of the knife."

"Couldn't have you finding it again." You whined as his cold fingers left your thigh, not taking the blade as he was confident you wouldn't use it against him. "But seems like you did."

"Leave this one for me, baby girl." He referred to Zajicek, knowing he will have to fight you to take you away from whatever your boss had ordered you to do.

"Do you know how much I will get paid for this, Rapp?" Your hands went up again, circling his neck to bring him closer. Your next words made your lips brush against his. "A lot of money, Rapp. More than you can imagine." Your gaze moved around, remembering what you were there for. Mitch Rapp had distracted you from your objective. "Shit."

The man that was keeping you close to him turned around, following your gaze until he saw Liam speaking to a man while glancing at you two. He had discovered that you both were there to get him. He swiftly pushed through people, trying to escape both of you. "Fuck." Mitch's hands left your body, stepping as quickly as possible, following Zajicek. You did the same, trying to ignore the fabric stuck to your lower lips, confirming the effect Mitch Rapp had on you.

You lost both of them, finding yourself in an empty hall, glancing around. It wasn't until you heard a thump that you knew where both men were. Rushing to a white and golden door, you were met with Mitch as he dodged a chair that was thrown to his head by Liam.

You quickly walked closer, jumping on Zajicek's back, arms tightly around his neck, trying to choke him. "Mitch, he is mine." Your legs around his waist, pressing your thighs against him, trying to weaken the lower part of his body. Nonetheless, Liam Zajicek used his elbows to hit your stomach, causing you to fall on your butt and back, your breath being kicked out of you.

"No way, baby girl." He grunted as he ran after Liam again. As soon as you were able to get up, you ran behind them, seeing them going inside another room, which seemed to be an office. Liam tried to kick a shelf. Mitch was strong enough to stop the entire shelf from falling on top of him, although he would have a big bruise on the back of his arm.

Liam's eyes widened as he understood how tough, and trained Mitch Rapp was, running to a door that was inside the office. Pulling it open, he was met with no exit. Mitch and you ran to the other chamber, which was a bathroom.

You quickly kicked Liam's chest with your heels, making him wail in pain, collapsing on his bottom. Mitch gripped the boy's hair, dragging him over the white porcelain bath, turning the water on, and splashing his face with the head of the shower until he was turning purple as he couldn't breathe.

"Where's the SD?" You asked Zajicek. When he didn't answer you, Mitch turned the water on again. But the boy resisted, not wanting to reveal his secrets.

Your hands rapidly moved around Liam's body, going inside his pockets until your fingers found a hard object. Mitch Rapp was too distracted threatening the hacker. It was your opportunity to flew from the room with the SD you needed. Proof enough for your boss to get the money from finding and discovering the ways of Liam Zajicek.

You rushed out of the bathroom, not getting too far as a hand grabbed your right elbow. You didn't have time to turn around as a rough body pushed you against the desk placed on the middle of the office. Your chest was tightly squeezed against the hard wooden surface, while a body was pressed to the lower part of your body. A hand around the back of your neck, keeping you in place. A veiny hand came to view, grasping the SD card from your grip. "Such a snake, baby girl."

"I repeat," You tried to get away from his grasp, unsuccessfully. "I like ruining your plans."

"Good," You heard him shuffle behind you, probably hiding the SD in one of his pockets. "It's my turn to ruin you." There was no time to proceed his words as both of his hands went to the cut on your leg, ripping the dress so he could see what was underneath. His cold fingers grabbed the knife, throwing it somewhere in the room. "No underwear." He grunted, hips colliding with yours, showing how desperate he was.

You moaned, using your elbows to hold yourself up. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. "Underwear looks horrible with such a delightful dress." His eyes slipped from you to look down at your folds. Seeing the satisfaction in his eyes, you decided to move your hips back, hitting his hips again, leaving a little damp mark on the front of his pants due to your wetness. His eyes went back to yours, holding your gaze as the fingers of his right hand teased your folds, not touching them completely, just grazing them. "Mitch, you better touch me right now. I swear to g-." Your words were interrupted as he conducted your wish. Two of his fingers rubbing the wetness of your pussy all over your folds, making you gasp and hold his gaze.

"So wet." His fingers left your core, making you whine. He placed his hand between your centre and the desk, his fingers going back to the sought place. This time, toying with your clit as the other hand ran up, grabbing your boob through the dress, squeezing, and pinching. "Fuck. How can you be so wet even before I started touching you."

"You always do the same." Your hips trapped his hand against the desk, riding his hand as he played with your clit. "You always get me all turned on, and then, you leave." Your right hand stopped supporting your weight, blindly going behind your body until it was wrapping Mitch's bulge. "How can you be so hard even before I touched you."

"Shut up," He groaned, a little smirk decorating his face. His hand left your clit as he felt how you fere fastening your peace against him. His other hand removing yours off his bulge. He rapidly unzipped his jeans, and after thrusting his hips a couple of times against yours, he lowered his boxers. His left hand pushed your face against the desk, keeping you there as the head of his dick caressed your wet folds. "We have no time, baby girl. We have to be quick." He pushed the head between your folds, teasing. "No time to eat you out, no time to have my dick deep down your throat, and no time to finger you." You could notice that he was talking with a pout on his lips. He finally decided to shove himself fully in you.

"Mitch," You whined. "Don't go all soft on me, please." The grip he had around your neck tightened while his dick went out of your pussy, just to go back inside at a slow pace. You were going to beg him to do you harder, and faster, but the ringing of your phone interrupted you.

"Who's it?" Mitch mumbled. As you wanted to ignore the call, you didn't answer, which made Rapp stop his slow thrusts. When you complained, turning around to peer at him, he had an earnest expression. "I asked you a question, kitten." Your legs trembled, and you were grateful that Mitch and the desk retained your entire body.

With shaky fingers, you clutched your phone. Hazy vision trying to guess the ID of the caller. "Stan," You answered. Mitch couldn't help but smirk at the chance of fucking you while your boss was on call.

"Well, kitten." His hips went back, going forward, roughly, fastening the pace. "No more foreplay for us." Mitch and you did this in every mission that Stan sent the both of you to. You both acted as if you were each other's competition, ending up fucking somewhere after capturing or killing your target. "Answer him, baby." Your eyes widened, and before you could talk, Mitch thrust a couple of times into you, fast.

"Y-yes?" You replied after sliding your finger on the screen of the phone to accept the call.

"You guys are taking more time than normal. Was there any problem?" His annoyed voice sounded over the line, making you both roll your eyes.

Your hand went to your mouth, keeping yourself from moaning while being on the phone. Mitch was going harder and deeper as possible. His balls hitting your clit every time he thrust. "W-we already have him, Stan. We will be back soon." Soon, you were going to cum soon, not being able to hold back from how quick Mitch was doing you. "We are taking more time as I lost my knife," You plainly lied. "You know how much I love that kn-." A loud moan interrupted your sentence, followed by a couple of more.

"Oh my god, you horny rabbits." Stan realised what both of you were up to. "Finish quickly, and come back with Zajicek." He hung up.

"You heard him, kitten." He pushed you even farther into the desk, ordering you to stay there. His left hand went to your waist, moving your body to meets his thrusts. His right hand found its place on your clit, expertly moving in circles until your knees were buckling. "Come on, baby. Come on." He groaned, knowing you were so close to your high.

He pressed his chest against your back, his teeth biting your ear, not scared to moan loudly, letting you know that you had the same power on him that he had on you. "I'm so close baby." You could feel his dick grazing places that could make any woman pass out from pleasure. His member pulsating in you, letting you grasp that he was close.

A couple more of thrusts and he was cumming inside you, the movement of his hips still hitting you, perceiving you were close. "Mitch!" Your mouth was open, and a trail of drool running down your chin as your body shook from how hard you were cumming. His load filled you up, and even after both of you had reached your highs, Mitch was still inside you, pressed against you while breathing hard.

"Fuck, even quickies with you left me all satisfied." He groaned, deciding to slip his dick from you, which made you whine as you loved being filled up by him. Now, you moaned, the mix of your juices falling down your thighs. "Let me go grab you a towel." He moved to the bathroom, to come back a couple of minutes later with a warm wet towel on his hands, not hesitating to gently clean you up, knowing you were quite sensitive after sex.

"Hey," Your eyes widened. "What about Zajicek?"

"He was unconscious when I came here as you tried to escape." He hummed, concentrating on cleaning you up. "But when I went back inside to get the towel, he was conscious, tied to the bath. He probably enjoyed you moaning loudly." He winked, making you feel flustered.

"Mitch Rapp," You groaned. "My dress it's all ripped. How am I supposed to get out of this party like this?" You pointed at the ripped dress he was guilty of as he couldn't wait until you unzipped it to be inside you.

"You will have to keep closer to me, baby girl." He grabbed you, dragging you closer to his body. Your hands ended up against his firm chest. "Hard again?" You chuckled, feeling his bulge on the lower part of your tummy.

"Wait until we get home, Y/N Rapp." He winked. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, Ms. Rapp."

.

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Taglist: @og-baby-ob14​ - @siwiecola - @linkpk88​ -

People in bold means I can’t tag them.

[sporticus1234]

Catch Me if You Can-Laws of Attraction (Part 1)

Summary: After weeks of flirting, teasing, and close calls, Tessa is ready to take the plunge, but can Gabe overcome his own worse fears and join her?

Pairing: Gabe Ricci x Main Character (Tessa Michaels)

Link to my Master-List and Other works will be added once they have been re-edited and re-uploaded.

Perma-Tags and LOA Tags: @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythadon @nishas-paradise  @blainehellyes @mm2305 @suitfer​ @thegreentwin @pixelnutrookie​ 

I hope you all enjoy it and see you soon for some...adventures...in part 2.

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Rather than clumsy words, it’s your action that I believe. Don’t stop. Go past the limit. Go faster. I’m going to find my heart. So catch me if you can.

-Girls Generation, Catch Me if You Can (Korean Ver.)

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The once glittering ballroom filled with stimulating conversation, flowing bubbles of champagne, and decadent hor-dourves was now deserted and quiet, signaling the end of the extravagant weekend legal conference. As the last person Tessa was speaking to excused herself for the evening, she looked around the empty space littered with discarded champagne flutes and linen napkins, her spirits deflating at the sight. The conference ended as quickly as it began, and come Monday morning, she would be back in the office, the competition still at the forefront of everyone’s minds.

It may have been a short weekend, but Tessa was grateful for the time away from the office. The past few weeks were filled with nothing else but case after case coming one after another and nonstop talk about the competition, particularly from Martin. But for a tiny period of time, all of that vanished out of sight and out of mind. She laughed and joked with her colleagues and bosses like they were all good friends. She camped and ate smores in a beautiful forest, and she finally got her first full night of sleep since she started working at McGraw Byrne. She truly felt like she had been transported to a completely different world, one she found hesitant to leave behind for an entire year.

Stifling the yawn sneaking up on her, she left the ballroom behind, her spirits still thrumming with excitement from the evening, but her body yearning for a soak in a hot bath and some sleep in the oversized hotel bed. She was halfway across the empty lobby, gilded elevator doors in sight, when her feet came to a stop outside of the hotel’s bar. She didn’t even have to look to know exactly who was sitting in that dimly lit bar. He had a larger-than-life presence, no matter what room he was in, that was like a magnet, drawing everyone’s attention, even if he was just randomly passing by on the sidewalk.

Her tiredness completely forgotten, she hovers near the entryway and discretely watches him. He’s sitting by himself at the bar, nursing what Tessa knows is a glass of scotch on the rocks along with a basket of half-eaten chips and dip, his eyes occasionally flicking up to the large screen TV showing a basketball game taking place on the other side of the country. His jacket is discarded on the back of his chair, his tie loosened slightly and the buttons of his shirt rakishly undone at the top. Despite his disheveled, executive blowing off steam look, he is still just as handsome and attractive as he was just a short time ago when he was polished and buttoned up. Maybe even more.

A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she watches him. Gabe was such a surprise when she first came to New York, and she never expected to become so charmed by him. The man has such a lavish and lively personality on the outside, but on the inside is a man driven to be the best and passionate about using his vast knowledge to help everyone. His heart is as big as his office, a welcoming, refreshing contrast to the selfishness Tessa sees too often in this line of work. They have only known each other for a short time, but every time he came around, he put a smile on her face and made her stomach flip-flop. She couldn’t explain why he has such a pleasant effect on her. Perhaps it’s the way that when she flirts with him, he flirts right back with the same energy she gives him, maybe even more. Maybe it’s the way the two of them click when they’re together. Or maybe it’s the way he continues to keep her on her toes and excite her yet still make her feel a sense of comfort and familiarity at the same time. Regardless of the reasons, the one thing she was certain of was that she didn’t want this fluttering feeling to stop. Ever.

“Of course, you would be alone at a bar,” Tessa teases as she steps towards him.

Gabe swivels his head around at the sound of her voice, his eyes immediately catching hers as she approaches him. His lips twist into a grin, his spirits lifting like they always do whenever she is around. “Am I really that predictable?”

Tessa shrugs. “Maybe a little. But you wouldn’t be the Gabe Ricci we all know and love if you weren’t.”

Gabe chuckles. “Most people wouldn’t agree with you on that statement.”

“I’m not most people,” she fires back with a wink.

No, you are most definitely not Gabe thought. “What exactly are you doing still wandering around?” He glances down towards his watch, mildly surprised to find it still somewhat early. “The cocktail party ended almost an hour ago. I figured you would be in bed like everyone else.”

“I planned on it, but then I saw this guy sitting all by himself in this empty hotel bar and thought he could use some company.”

Gabe’s eyes twinkle with delightful mischief as he takes another sip of his scotch. He was hoping the two of them could spend some more time together before the madness hit them Monday morning. “I think I know who you’re talking about. And I, for one, know that he would love to have some company, especially if the company happens to be you.”

Tessa gives him a shy smile as she slips into the bar stool next to him. An electrical, buzzing warmth fills up the space around them as butterflies flutter in her stomach at the near closeness to him, the scent of his cologne invading her senses and tempting her to come even closer. As she peruses the small menu, the lone bartender comes over and places a napkin down in front of her.

“Anything to eat or drink?”

“A Manhattan please.”

The bartender nods before turning to Gabe. “Another refill for you, sir?”

“Please,” Gabe replies. “And put her Manhattan on my tab as well.”

The bartender grabs Gabe’s empty glass and heads down to the other end of the bar. Once he’s fully out of hearing range, Tessa turns to face Gabe. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says. “I am more than capable of paying for my own drinks.”

“I know you could pay for it,” Gabe responds before his lips curl into his trademark sly smirk, “or you could let Sadie pay for it.”

“Wait, what?”

Gabe nods, his smirk growing bigger. “Consider it another partner-only secret. This conference is one of the few events Sadie lets us have more…leeway…with the company credit card. Any food or drinks we buy at this conference gets covered by the firm.”

“And something tells me you’re taking full advantage of that offer,” Tessa says.

Gabe gives her a wink. “What can I say? A good attorney knows a good offer when they see it.”

“In that case,” Tessa flags down the bartender again. “I’ll do an order of the spicy fried pickle chips with that Manhattan.” The bartender nods and disappears into a back room. Tessa turns her head, seeing Gabe looking at her with an amused expression on his face. “What’s that look for?”

Gabe chuckles, shaking his head. “Just wondering if I’m going to regret sharing that secret with you.”

“Don’t worry,” Tessa grins at him. “Your secret is safe with me. But if Sadie cuts us off or starts questioning anything on the credit card bills, I’m placing the full blame on you.”

The two of them continue to make small talk until the bartender comes back a few minutes later. He places their drinks and her basket of food down before excusing himself and shuffling into the back room once again. Tessa grabs her glass and holds it up in a toast, prompting Gabe to do the same.

“To drinks on someone else’s dime,” she states.

The two of them share a laugh as they clink their glasses together. Tessa takes a sip of her drink, the whiskey a sharp contrast to the bubbly champagne of the reception. The liquid pools like fire in her stomach and flows throughout her body, warming her up and loosening her muscles. “Best Manhattan I’ve ever had.”

Gabe cocks his eyebrow. “Is it really the best?”

“Oh, not by a long shot. But since I didn’t have to pay for it, I consider it the best in my book.”

“You really are a woman after my own heart,” Gabe replies. Tessa tucks her gaze away from him, feeling her face grow hot at the combination of the whiskey and his spell-binding charm. She takes another sip of her drink before sliding the basket of pickle chips towards him. He throws her an appreciative “thanks”, taking a chip and popping it into his mouth before continuing their conversation. “How did you enjoy the conference?”

“I really liked it,” Tessa answers. “I never got the chance to do things like this with my old law firm.”

“What? Have free food and drinks on someone else’s dime with a devastatingly handsome senior partner?”

Tessa shoves him with a laugh. “No, you complete smart ass. I meant going out to events and connecting with other people.” She absentmindedly picks the coating off a pickle chip, her mind reminiscing. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my hometown, but there was no excitement in my life. It was the same boring routine every single day.”

“Sounds like you and McGraw Byrne are a perfect match.”

Tessa nods. “Honestly, I really have you to thank. If you didn’t recommend hiring me to Sadie, I still would be stuck in the same boring routine. It sounds really sappy, but you really did change my life for the better…in more ways than one.”

The raw honesty in her voice tugs at his heartstrings, his lips twitching into another smile. He’s used to hearing those words come from his clients, but hearing those words come from her just felt…different, and it made him feel something he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

“You’re very welcome,” Gabe earnestly tells her. “I wouldn’t have recommended you if I didn’t think you were a stellar attorney. You deserve to be here just as much as everyone else, and I truly mean that. McGraw Byrne needed someone like you. Hell, the legal world needs more attorneys like you.”

“What? Sappy and sentimental ones?”

“No,” Gabe says, stifling his chuckle. “I meant attorneys who are passionate about their job and passionate about connecting with people. So many attorneys don’t take the time to really understand or listen to their clients. Having someone like you, someone who actually connects with clients and goes above and beyond to help them, really does make a world of difference.” Gabe takes a pickle chip and pops it into his mouth. “But I really am happy you decided to take Sadie up on her offer to join us, even if the past few days have given you plenty of good reasons to quit.”

Tessa blows out a harsh breath, knowing exactly what Gabe was referring to. “Yeah, they have been quite…challenging.”

“I meant to ask you earlier, but how’re you holding up?”

Tessa sighs, dragging her fingertip over the rim of her glass. “Honestly, I’m still pissed that Beau stole the credit from me in front of everyone, but I should’ve expected someone to pull that stunt sooner or later.” She blinks back a tear trying to escape. “It just sucks to be the one it happens to.”

“I know, and I truly am sorry Beau pulled such a dick move on you.” He sympathetically lays a gentle hand on her bare shoulder, the touch sending comfort through her veins. “If I could’ve done something to make it better, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would’ve, but I do appreciate you not saying anything to Sadie.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t my place to tell her. Besides,” he takes his hand off her shoulder, already missing the feel of her smooth, soft skin, “the only thing it would’ve done was make you and me look bad in front of Sadie.”

“Sounds like someone has personal experience.”

Gabe runs a hand through his hair. “Happened to me once back in my early legal days, but instead of getting the credit and respect that I rightfully deserved, I got told off for being a bad ‘team player’ and trying to take someone else’s credit.”

“That’s so unfair,” she practically spits.

Gabe lets out a bitter, humorless guffaw. “Preaching to the choir on that one. You’ll find that every group will have one person who will do none of the work or the one person that will take credit for anything and everything. Fortunately for us, Beau happens to be both of those assholes wrapped up in one, so we save a lot on payroll.”

Tessa laughs weakly at his joke, the sting of Beau’s betrayal still fresh in her mind. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better. It just sucks knowing that Sadie is always going to believe that Beau solved the case.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m still incredibly proud of you, even if Sadie never knows the truth.”

“You…are?” she asks, surprise etched on her face as she turns her body towards him.

“Absolutely,” Gabe says, no hesitation in his voice. “Without you, we possibly would’ve never solved it to begin with, nor would Lydia have thought to make Joey sign a prenup. But what really impressed me was how you were the only one to step up and take initiative when needed. Not many of the senior partners would go to such lengths for a teenager like Lydia, but you did.”

“I guess,” Tessa mutters. “I just hope it will be enough come Monday.”

“It will be,” Gabe assures her as he steals another pickle chip.

“Really? I figured Sadie would shove Beau to the top of the rankings after he basically saved the firm.”

“Everyone in that room knows who really saved the firm, and it wasn’t Beau,” Gabe points out. “Even if Sadie believes he did, she’s also smart enough to know that one win, no matter how big it is, isn’t enough to judge how good an attorney is or will become. Beau may have stolen one win, but you’re still the one to beat.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“Plus, you showed her tonight how well you bounce back after taking a loss.”

“What do you mean?”

“Between moot court, the pro bono cases, the vaccine trial, and everything else we’ve observed, you had a major winning streak that Beau decided to snap. Most people would sulk in their losses, but you didn’t. You showed up tonight, looking incredible might I add, and managed to put everything behind you to impress the right group of people.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” Gabe confidently replies. He reaches out and covers her hand with his, trying to ignore the tingling buzzes on his skin. “You’re a wickedly smart attorney, Tessa. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks Gabe,” she says, the goofy smile plastering on her face at his heartfelt compliment. “That…that really means a lot to me.”

“It should,” Gabe tells her, reluctantly pulling his hand away again. “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t the absolute truth. Just forget about Vegas and the Rothswells and continue onto the next case.”

Tessa nods and takes another sip of her drink as the conversation between them dies down. She may have already forgotten the Rothswells and was slowly getting over from Beau’s stolen win, but Vegas was still on her mind. It wasn’t just the city that occupied her thoughts, but rather, it was the small wedding chapel and the night she played fiancée to the man sitting next to her. That night was an intense roller coaster of emotions, desires, and confusion; it was a night where lines became blurred and questions began to arise at the nature of her and Gabe’s relationship. It was one specific little interaction that made Tessa not only sense a shift in their relationship, but triggered her to start over analyzing and over thinking every little action from their first meeting up until now.

“Nothing but the best for the most stunning woman on the Strip.”

“Alvin’s gone, you know. You don’t have to—”

He raises a finger to her lips, laying it softly against them as he gives her a smoldering look that makes her throat dry up. “What if I want to, Tessa?”

Tessa truly felt at that moment they were no longer pretending. The things he said to her that night with such conviction in his eyes and voice. The way he softly caressed and touched her with such adoration and tenderness. The way his breath tickled her lips and sent shivers throughout her body at their near-kisses. They were not things done by someone just “pretending”; no one was that good of an actor. However, despite his actions in the wedding chapel, there was one moment that made her second guess herself completely. Just as she was about to admit her feelings for him, he brusquely cut her off and completely changed the direction of the conversation. What punctuated that gut-wrenching action was him dropping her hand quickly, as if he had been burned by her touch. The cocktail of mixed signals made her head pound in dizzying confusion, and it was becoming difficult to ignore for much longer.

She glances over at Gabe, worrying her lip between her teeth and mentally debating whether or not to step into that territory of complete openness. She has a nice, working relationship with him, and she doesn’t want to risk making it awkward to be around him if he truly doesn’t feel anything towards her. On the other hand, she wants to know for her own sake of mind; she has to know if Gabe’s confusing behavior and mixed signals mean anything. They’re off the clock, away from the office, with no interruptions coming between them. It’s the perfect opportunity to air everything out, and hopefully come Monday, there would be no more confusion or misunderstandings.

“Speaking of Vegas…” Tessa mumbles, carefully avoiding his eyes. “I think we should talk.”

Gabe’s spine stiffens in alert at the sudden shift in her demeanor. “About…what, exactly?”

She takes a deep breath, knowing it was too late to steer this conversation in another direction. “About what happened at the wedding chapel.”

“Ah,” Gabe interjects, “that was some brilliant thinking on your part, with the rat and all.”

“That wasn’t the part I wanted to talk about.” She turns her head to look at him. “I wanted to talk about the whole ‘pretend’ couple in love situation.”

“What was wrong with it?” he asks her, his nerves starting to creep up on him.

“Nothing,” she quickly replies. “I was just thinking…what you said…” She takes another deep breath, preparing herself to blurt it out before she lost her nerve. “Did you ever have a moment where…you didn’t think it was pretend?”

Depends on what your answer is going to be. “What do you mean?”

“I know the whole situation was supposed to be pretend in order to get a copy of Lydia’s marriage license, but…some of the things you said…and did…” her ears grow hot as a shiver races down her spine at the memory of Gabe’s gentle caress on her wrist, the pure intimacy behind it.

“Didn’t seem like pretend?” he finishes.

“Yeah.”

“And what do you think?”

Tessa sits there silently contemplating her answer. Up until this point, Tessa never had any reason to doubt Gabe. He is a man who never makes anyone second guess his true intentions or meanings. Every word he speaks is nothing short of the truth. But his reaction on the Strip was the first time she questioned his true intentions. If Gabe did mean what he said, then why did he quickly divert the conversation and act like he couldn’t stand to be around her? Her inner conscience was waving a massive red flag in front of her, but when Gabe gripped her chin and turned her head to focus on him, she caught herself slipping back into the warm pools of his chocolate-colored orbs.

“I really hope you weren’t pretending,” she softly says, voice barely above a whisper.

Gabe feels his stomach lurch at her confession, and the corners of his mouth tug up into a small smile at her answer. Gabe wasn’t going to lie. From the minute she stepped into the office, he became fascinated with her. She was beautiful, but what caught his attention was the way she introduced herself to the others. She was the only one who stood up and spoke with such confidence and conviction about winning the partnership that he would’ve given the spot to her immediately if his name was on the building.

“That’s because I wasn’t.”

Her eyes widen. “Wh…what?”

His thumb skates over her bottom lip, gently tugging it downwards, her breath hitching at the intense, smoldering look in his eyes. “I wasn’t pretending in the wedding chapel. I truly wanted to tell you that you were the most stunning woman on the Strip because you were, and I will always think you’re the most stunning woman I will ever come across.”

“And last night?”

“I still mean it,” he tells her, taking his hand away. “I really do enjoy spending time with you, and I want to spend whatever time I have with you and only you.”

“Good.” Tessa covers his hand with hers, the electric current running between them turning into tingling shivers chasing each other up and down her spine. “Because I really, really like spending time with you too.”

The smile on his face grows bigger, turning into the most genuine one he’s ever had with someone else. Their fingers tentatively move and twist together, the air buzzing with energy just waiting to be released. A sigh of relief floods through him once he sees their hands joined together. He feared he overstepped that night in Vegas, especially since he was sharply reminded of how Tessa flirted with the fireman a few weeks ago for her eviction case. But sitting here now, their confessions out in the open, their hands joined together, made all of it real.

“So where do we go from here?”

Gabe furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“We just admitted we like each other, Gabe,” Tessa states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The question is, what comes next? Are we together? Do we see where this goes?”

Gabe bit the inside of his cheek at her question, the bliss from earlier now getting replaced with dread and guilt. He knows exactly what he wants to do next. He wants to invite her to his hotel room tonight, spend hours tangled in the silk sheets together, then wake up and do it all again tomorrow morning. He wants to take her out to dinner tomorrow night and treat her to the most decadent food in the city while he teases and touches her until she can no longer bear it. He wants to be openly affectionate with her in the office…and maybe do a few more things behind the closed doors of his office. But he can’t, and he knew the exact reasons why.

The first reason was the more obvious one. She is currently in the competition for a junior partnership, and he is the one overseeing it and potentially making the final decision on who takes his former position. They are co-workers, and while Sadie has no real binding rule that co-workers cannot date or see each other outside of work, Gabe knows there will always be a cloud of doubt and speculation hovering over Tessa if the office discovers they are seeing each other and she wins the junior partnership. Gabe was already beating himself up for what happened between her and Beau; he would never be able to forgive himself if he was the cause of ruining her reputation and the potential she has at becoming the next great attorney. How could he look himself in the mirror every morning if this blows back up in their faces?

But the less obvious reason was a hidden secret, one that he hasn’t shared with anyone else. It was the one reason that stopped him from taking her up to his penthouse in Vegas and doing all the things he fantasizes about doing with her. It was the one reason for the walls Gabe built up over the years that no one else has been able to break down. It was the one reason that prevented Gabe from crossing the lines he wanted to cross. As easy as it would be to cross them tonight with nothing stopping them, he knows he has to make the tough decision, not only to protect her, but also to protect himself. He just hopes it doesn’t change anything between them.

“As much as I would love for us to be together,” he runs his thumb soothingly over her knuckles, already feeling guilty for what he was about to say to her, “I don’t think it would be wise to pursue it.”

“O…oh,” the smile on her face falters at his stinging rejection.

“It’s not that I don’t want you,” Gabe quickly assures her.

“Sure feels that way,” she blurts out with a bitter laugh.

Gabe sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re stunning Tessa, and whatever would happen between us would be so goddamn mind-blowing, because I know exactly what I’d do with a girl like you.”

As much as his rejection stings, the dark tendrils of desire twist and twirl together inside at the sound of that highly promising and exciting invitation, the rush of desire making her shift in her seat at the tingling sensation. However, his tone tells her he was about to say one little three-letter word that was going to take the invitation back and make the rejection even worse.

"But...?"

Gabe shakes his head and averts his eyes from the pain blooming in hers. “We can’t act on it. I can’t act on it.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I…can’t,” he relents. He untangles their fingers and pulls his hand back to his side of the bar, no matter how painful it is for him to do so. “You already saw how low Sadie’s own blood would go to push himself ahead. Just imagine how low the others would go if they suspected—”

“You and I were seeing each other?”

Gabe nods, a small twinge of relief pricking his heart at her understanding. “Opportunities like this bring the worst out in people.”

“Considering I just had firsthand experience on how shitty people can be, I do understand it.” She takes another drink of her Manhattan, the sting now turning into simmering annoyance. “What I don’t understand is why us being together is now such a big deal for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, you didn’t seem too concerned with people seeing us together or what they thought when we went to Hoi On and that business dinner you specifically invited me to,” Tessa shrugs. “I’m just curious about the change of heart all of a sudden.”

“I didn’t have a change of heart. Those situations were entirely different.”

“Different how?”

Gabe pauses for a second to gather his thoughts. He had to tread lightly going forward, or else any chance the two of them had with each other in the future was going to be destroyed. “When I invited you to Hoi On, the other associates weren’t in the office. I knew Aislinn wasn’t going to say anything to Sadie, so no one was going to question why I brought you there.”

“And the business dinner?”

“It truly was supposed to be a business dinner and an opportunity for you to network yourself,” Gabe admits. “I didn’t know beforehand that he was going to cancel on me, and as far as the office is concerned, no one knows that he canceled on me, so everyone still suspects the three of us had that business dinner.”

“But then…oh…” Tessa trails off, another wave of disappointment crashing into her chest. “I get it.”

“You do?”

She nods. “You’re embarrassed to be seen with me. I get it. The senior associate and the top senior partner being seen together would hurt your image with the other partners.”

A tinge of frustration punches his gut. “That’s not what I mean. I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you to join me at the lake.”

“Good point,” Tessa tells him. “You certainly didn’t mind taking me out to the lake last night with Sadie and the other associates sitting around.”

“That was different too,” Gabe bluntly responds. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me to understand,” she sighs, exasperated.

“There’s no point in tell you,” Gabe shoots back. “You’re intelligent and observant, Tessa. You know exactly why we can’t pursue…whatever there is between us.”

“The only thing standing in the way of pursuing whatever is between us is you,” Tessa points out.

He runs his hands through his disheveled hair again. “It’s not that I want to stand in the way of us. There’s so many reasons on why we shouldn’t pursue this.”

“Well, so far, you haven’t given me one that we can’t find a way to work around. So please enlighten me, Mr. Ricci,” she crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a hard stare. “Is your reasoning really about the partnership and my reputation, or is it about something more?”

As Gabe sits there in silence, Tessa’s mind flashes back to their previous interactions. Last night was the most unguarded she has seen Gabe since she started working at McGraw Byrne. The business dinner was the first time the two of them ever got physically close to each other. Vegas was the first time the two of them were fixing to jump across those boundaries and become one. But each time, Gabe pulled back, and his action spoke volumes. And with the way Gabe was currently avoiding meeting her gaze head on and how his fingers are tightly gripping his empty scotch glass makes the light bulb go off in her head. There was another reason Gabe was hiding, one that has to do entirely with himself. She just has to hope that she is important enough for him to be honest with her.

“Well?”

Gabe sighs. “It really is about the partnership,” he lies, firmly keeping his gaze locked on the bar top. “The partnership is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you shouldn’t waste it or throw it away.”

The air turns icy and frigid at his words. Tessa grabs her clutch off the bar top, knowing there was no more reason for her to still be around. “You may be able to bullshit other people, Gabe, but you’re not going to bullshit me. You and I both know this is more than just the partnership, and out of respect for your privacy, I’m not going to pry. Only you can make the decision to share it with me, but until you do, I think it’s best to forget whatever we feel for each other.”

Tessa gives his hand a soft pat before downing the rest of her drink and sliding off the bar stool. Before she could go far, Gabe’s hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist.

“Tessa…”

“Don’t worry about it, Gabe,” she says, gently prying his fingers off her wrist. “I’m honestly a little hurt and disappointed that you can’t be honest with me, but I’m not mad at you.” She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I really do like you, Gabe, but I also like and respect myself too much to go after someone who isn’t as crazy about me as I am about them, nor will I go after someone who keeps pulling back when I want to get closer.”

“That’s not—"

She ignores his plea, digging into her clutch and pulling out a platinum-looking card. “You know where to find me when you make up your mind and have an answer for me, but don’t expect me to be waiting around forever for it.”

She places the card down on the bar top; with a sad smile, she brushes past him and heads out of the hotel bar, the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Gabe watches her figure retreat until she disappears behind the gilded elevator doors.

“Dammit!” he slams a fist against the bar top. The empty glasses jump a little at the impact, but what catches his attention was the quick flash of light reflected on the platinum card as it jumped into the air. Gabe reaches out and slides it towards him, his spirits deflating even more when he sees what she left.

The spare key to her room.

To anyone else, it may be just a room key, but Gabe knows that it is so much more meaningful than that. It symbolizes the key to her heart and the key to their future together, a key that would only work for a short amount of time until Tessa closes both of those doors on him. The decision to walk through those open doors was entirely in his hands, but before he could do that, he has to make one other decision. The time had come for him to do the one thing he has avoided doing for years, the one decision he found easy to avoid until tonight.

It was time for him to confront himself and his fears.

__________________________________

This was going to go up a lot sooner, but because my job decided to go through some technology changes recently, it meant something that previously worked is now broken and no longer works. Unfortunately, that was me this time around, so my usual break times where I work on stories was used to help fix what someone else broke. 

Sorry about the delay, but I really do anticipate part 2 being uploaded soon, much sooner than LOA coming back from its hiatus.

For all of you who have read this story and made it this far, thank you so much for your support! It means more to me than you could ever imagine!

I love you all so much!

Second Chance Tagging in case Tumblr becomes Tumbroke again:  @choices-addict @choiceskatie @lady-calypso @chemist-ana @kat-tia801 @chrissythadon @nishas-paradise  @blainehellyes @mm2305 @suitfer​ @thegreentwin @pixelnutrookie​

[dirty-brainrot]

(Immortality)

UHM... I did not forget this... I did nawt..

Pairing: Kira Yoshikage (1st phase) x Reader

Kira had such an awful day at work. Not only that but some brat got ahold of his beloved Girlfriend and almost got him caught, either way, he got rid of the problem at the price of him returning to his home late. He should've driven to work but he was feeling that something good will happen if he walked instead but no. So now he is walking towards his home in the middle of the night.

He needed a new Girlfriend soon but he was willing to wait for another day. Although, it seems that luck was on his side. As he was walking around the familiar road of the north side of Morioh, he stumbles upon someone. Someone who has the cleanest and prettiest hand he has seen in the past few months.

The person notices their presence and walks to towards him with a polite smile. "Excuse me, sir," Upon closer look, their face is stunning, and looked fairly young probably around 18. He could care less as his attention was on their lovely hands. "I'm lost and this map isn't helping me that much. Do you know how to get to the Morioh grand hotel?" The person flips the map towards him, their hands moving with slight grace.

He hums and takes the map from their hand, hands slightly brushing against each other. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin. "I need to get their hand and it seems like I have the perfect opportunity." He thought as he gave them a fake smile. Pointing towards the current location they are, on the map, he started pointing at the directions of the path towards the hotel.

"Then turn right when you see the supermarket. I suggest you take a cab instead of walking on foot since that's quite far from here." The person nods and smiles at him again, stretching their hand out for a shake. He grabs it and goes in for a gentle kiss on the knuckles. "How odd... Their hand is cold... Well, it is quite chilly tonight." He thought as he slowly let go of their hand and gave them the map.

"Thank you, sir!" Turning around, they walk away. But before they could get any farther, Kira placed a hand on their shoulder. He looks around warily before chuckling. "You shouldn't be wandering around at night." Before the person could respond, they felt themselves going lighter and lighter then into nothingness.

A hand flops into the ground.

"Ah, sorry about that love." Kira smiled to himself and grabs the soft, cold hand. He caresses it one last time and places it in his pocket, but something was wrong. He swore he could feel it getting heavy, or was he just tired?

"Could've asked me out first." Startled, he flinches and looked towards the voice. It was you but naked... And left hand inside his coat pocket. "You fucker destroyed my clothes." You hissed while he stares at you, confused and slightly mad. "How?!"

Growling, you pointed and glared at him. "Better get me new clothes pretty boy or you'll be dead meat." Not wanting this to get any awkward, he hesitantly agrees and takes you to his home which is thankfully nearby so you won't have to walk with your asscheeks out too much.

He shows you to his bathroom and gave you fresh clothes. It was slightly oversized but it'll work. Walking outside of the bathroom, you sat down on the couch in the living room. Kira sat the far right of you. "So you must be the infamous killer that Jotaro told me about." The mentioned man, visibly tensed. "I didn't expect you to dismember hands and take them with you." You laughed, mocking him and he scowls in return. Before he could open his mouth to speak, you continued. "Don't worry, everyone has a kink."

Kira slams his hands on the table, making you pause from laughing. "Who are you and how did you do that? Was that the doing of your stand?" He asks with a stern voice and a flushed face, humiliated and infuriated. You hummed. "The names Y/N—" you then pointed at your sharp fangs and continued, "And I'm a vampire."

He didn't believe in those things and would simply laugh at you but seeing you materialize in front of him after getting pulverized is enough to make him believe that vampires were, in fact, real. The two of you sat in silence, not knowing what to say or do. Kira thought of ways to dispose of you while you looked at his tasteless furniture.

After 5 minutes of silence, you spoke up. "Listen, I would inform Jotaro that I found the killer but I have a proposal.~" He raises one of his brows, interested and it wasn't like he had a choice anyway. "Tell me your name first, Hand man." You snicker and he bitterly answers. "Yoshikage Kira." A part of him urges to tell his routine and life story but he refrained not wanting you to mock him any further.

"What a fitting name. Anyway, Kira, I need you to bring me food and help me get rid of the corpses. This would work really well for us if we team up." You crossed your legs and placed your foot on top of the table. He thought for a second before you added, "I could mislead them and you can do your freaky shit with the hands."

"Fine. Remove your feet on the table too." He answers and you grinned. Refusing to put your feet down, you spoke with a wry smile. "I would shake hands to seal the deal but I don't wanna see you pop a boner."

"I just wanted a peaceful life." He thought.

"Now that's out of the way, I'll be taking my leave." You stood up, standing awkwardly for a few seconds before sitting back down. "Can you take me to the Morioh Grand hotel?" He sighs. Kira only met you for a few hours but he knew you would refuse to leave if he didn't take you to your destination. He stands up with an irritated expression with you following him to his vehicle.

The car ride wasn't pleasant for Kira as you didn't stop babbling the entire ride. You told him the origin story of how you became a vampire and how you slowly lost your humanity during those years. He didn't care and tried to tune you out but you were too distractingly loud.

When you reached your destination. Kira parked his car in front of the hotel and ushered you to get out. Deciding to tease the man, you pressed your fingers together and kissed the tip of them then gently pushed them on Kira's lips while making a "mwah!" sound. You looked at his dumbfounded expression with a chuckle and left the car. "See you soon, Yoshikage." With that, you slammed the car door shut and sauntered to the entrance of the grand hotel leaving Kira with a raging boner.

"Their hands are... Very lovely... Such a shame that I can't take them for myself.." He mumbles and drove off.

[supremeuppityone]

This was written for the Klarowinter Bingo Event @klarowinterbingo. In this human AU, Klaus has a lot of regrets and has decided to stop being an idiot. Apparently, not everyone got the memo... 

Prompt: As pure as the driven snow.

Warning: Angst.

“Is it still mine, if I do not want it?” ― Rick Riordan, The House of Hades

Upgrade

           It was madness to come here. Klaus knew that even before he saw Caroline. But he’d largely avoided his younger brother ever since he chose Caroline’s side, and making an appearance tonight at Kol’s charity gala was meant to be an olive branch of sorts. It had been quite the shock to watch from afar how his reckless, hedonistic brother suddenly had settled down with a fearless woman named Bonnie, whose struggles with breast cancer had inspired Kol to establish a charity devoted entirely to finding a cure. Not that Kol wasn’t still uniquely Kol — he named his charity Brave Boobies.

           Klaus’ breath caught as he watched Caroline’s face light up while embracing Kol. The cream satin of her fitted evening gown was dotted with crystals, giving her the appearance of being bathed in soft white light. She was radiant. A goddess. She used to be his goddess.

                           ________________________________________

           They’d recently celebrated a year together and he’d taken her to the exclusive Abattoir Hotel for a romantic weekend. Klaus had envisioned a decadent, sensual celebration, but he’d noticed Caroline’s infectious enthusiasm had waned with each passing day.

           On the last day, they’d been enjoying a quiet breakfast out on the balcony when Caroline let out a small sigh. “I have some news.”

                           ________________________________________

You can read and review the full chapter here.

[moldisgoodforyou]

insufferable

warning: it’s just smut. like a tiny hint of plot. but tiny.

because I reblogged this and was inspired:

______

“I’m not letting you pay for it, and that’s final.” Sophie stated, turning her back on Rafe.

They’d been arguing for a good half hour over breakfast after Rafe casually offered to pay for both the tickets for her sorority formal. It was expensive, admittedly, as her sorority sprung for the fancier venue at the botanical gardens downtown, along with hotel rooms and a stacked bar.

(‘Offered’ might be a generous way to put it - he had just handed her a signed, blank check, and told her to write in how much it turned out to be, along with the cost of her dress. Entirely caught off guard, she ripped it up and handed the shreds back to him.)

When they started drawing looks from their hissed arguing, Sophie abruptly changed the subject, refusing to talk about it when he tried to bring it up again in the restaurant. The rest of the meal was fairly tense, but they both did their best to keep it civil.

He’d driven her home, only for them to argue more in the car and again when he tried walking her to the door. “Sophie.” Rafe huffed, calling after her. “Sophie! Come on!”

She didn’t respond, just stalked off and let the side door of her sorority house slam shut behind her. She had to laugh, however, when her phone immediately chimed with a text from Rafe.

Rafe: Am I still coming over before we go out tonight

Sophie: As long as you don’t try to sugar daddy me again

Rafe: Don’t start

Sophie: I’ll see you at nine  

The argument stuck like a stubborn thorn in the back of both of their minds all day, but they didn’t text each other and bring it up again, knowing it was useless. He kept his promise and came over exactly at nine, drinks in hand and ready to go meet her roommates at a house party. She wasn’t ready yet - running late, like always - and had him come up to her room instead. He sat on her bed as she changed, drinking a White Claw while he waited.

Rafe grumbled, seeing her outfit. “You’re gonna wear that?”

She wore a sheer black square-necked top with a black bra underneath, not hiding much. She paired it with a black leather skirt that flared out a little, just under her ass. Sophie paused, looking at herself in the mirror, then unclipped the bra and shimmied out of it, keeping her top on. “No, you’re right, this is better.”

He shut his eyes, taking a slow, dramatic inhale. “Sophie Flint.”

She put both hands on her hips and turned to face him. “What.”

He glared at her, knowing she was just trying to test his limits. “Put the damn bra back on.”

“No. I look good.” She walked over to him, stepping in between his legs.

Rafe shook his head as he looked up at her, setting his drink aside. “You’re insufferable.”

She quirked her brow, holding back a smirk. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

He reached up and palmed her breast, satisfied when her eyes fluttered shut as he brushed his thumb over her nipple. “You did this on purpose.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Oh, look, we have a fucking genius here.”

That was enough to set him over the edge and he grabbed her around the waist, swiftly pulling her down to his lap. Their lips crashed together and she straddled him right away, rolling her hips over him. He cursed and bit her bottom lip, not being gentle in the slightest.

She gasped, her hands finding her way to the hem of his shirt right away and she tugged up. “Off, I want this off.”

“Demanding.” Rafe quipped, but pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. He flipped them over easily and caught both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head. “Will you be good?”

A little caught off guard by his commanding nature, Sophie blinked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re gonna leave a mark.” She murmured.

He immediately loosened his grip on her, sitting up a little to give her some space. “Shoot, sorry, am I hurting you?”

“No, um. You don’t have to be gentle all the time.” She pressed her hips up into his and shook her head quickly, cheeks burning red as she clarified. “I like it.”

“Fuck, Soph.” He cursed and leaned back down to kiss her hard, bruising. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” She moaned quietly as he kissed along her jawline and down her neck, keeping her wrists pinned in place. “You can’t die, I don’t like fighting with anyone else.”  

“That’s all I’m good for?” He nipped at her collarbone, enjoying when she squirmed under him. “Sometimes I like you better when you’re moaning.”

“I like you better when your mouth is occupied.” She snapped back, pushing her hips against him again to try and find any friction. He let go of her wrists, only to fiddle with the clasp of her skirt. Sophie reached to pull off her top, but he knocked her hands away. “Keep this sad excuse of a shirt on.”

She lifted her hips for him to tug her skirt down her legs. “Thought you didn’t like it.”

“I like it just fine, I don’t want other people seeing you in it.”

Her next sassy response died in her throat as he grabbed her panties in both hands and ripped them clean in half. He kissed up her thighs, using one forearm across her hips to pin her in place.

“You’re buying me a new pair.” She breathed out, only a little delayed.

“Oh, so now you’ll let me buy you things?” He kissed everywhere but where she wanted it, feather-light, and she whined, trying to move her hips toward him. “A ten-dollar pair of underwear is not the same thing as what you were trying to do.” When he nipped teasingly at her hipbone, her shirt now pushed all the way up her stomach, she huffed. “Rafe, please.”

“Patience, angel.” He admonished, but brought two fingers up to her anyway, teasingly stroking around her entrance. She let her head fall back when he slipped them inside of her and he reached up and grabbed her chin with his free hand, ultra commanding. “Eyes on me.”  

She nodded quickly and bit her lip hard to stifle her next moan, trying her hardest not to let her eyes flutter shut at the pleasure.

“I want to hear you.” Rafe pressed his thumb against her clit, smirking when she gasped. “Can’t. You’re not - fuck - not allowed up here.” She bit out, having trouble speaking with the way he was moving his fingers against her. When he withdrew his fingers just as she was on the edge, she whined, reaching for him. “Wait, no, I was close.”

“Always so fucking whiny for me.” He grinned and pressed his fingers to her lips. She opened obediently, sucking on them until they were clean. “Good girl.”

“I want you.” Sophie told him meaningfully, reaching for his belt buckle. He stood just long enough to kick his pants to the floor while she reached over and grabbed a condom from the nightstand, handing it to him. He wasted no time in rolling it on and nudging her back to lie down. “You okay?” 

“Yes, fine, shut up.” 

He laughed, lining his hips up against hers. “That’s no way to talk to someone you love.” 

“Had to remind myself I’m still mad at you.” She informed him, but gasped sharply anyways as he pushed into her unexpectedly. He waited for her nod to start thrusting into her, gripping her hips hard enough to leave a mark. “Just let me pay for my half. At least.” 

“You’re not seriously -  ohh.” She breathed out, letting her head fall back. “This isn’t fair.” 

He stopped abruptly, though it pained him a little. “I can quit and we can keep arguing.” 

“No, no, please don’t stop.” She whimpered, wrapping an arm around his back to pull him closer to her. He nodded and kept going, bringing one hand in between them to play with her clit. “My half and your dress.” 

“Rafe, fuck, please.” 

“All of it, then.” He groaned, trying his best to keep himself fairly quiet (though her creaky bed was a dead giveaway). 

“Just half.” She bit back a moan, squirming under him. “You’re evil for bringing this up now.” 

“Devil to my angel.” He smirked. 

“Don’t stop.” Sophie mumbled against his shoulder, arching her back as he hit the perfect spot. “Shh, shh.” He soothed. When she finally came, biting against his shoulder to keep herself quiet, he came shortly after, hips stuttering against hers. The two lay in silence for a moment, breathing heavily against each other. 

“I think we’re late to the party.” Rafe quipped. 

She laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “We’re not going to the fucking party. We both need a shower.” 

He whined, letting his head fall to her shoulder. “But I can’t shower here.” 

“No, you’ll have to go home.” She agreed, combing her fingers through his long, floppy hair. “Wanna sleep with you.” He mumbled, always extra cuddly after sex. “Maybe you don’t deserve to sleep with me, trying to sabotage me in a fight.” She pointed out. 

He lifted his head quickly, kissing her cheek. “No, c’mon. Not fair, let me stay.” 

She laughed at his near-whiny tone. “I’ll shower here, you go home and shower, then I’ll come over and stay with you. Deal?” 

“So inconvenient.” He grumbled, but reluctantly stood, pulling on his clothes. “Promise you’ll come over right away?” 

“Promise.” Sophie smiled, leaning over to meet him in a quick kiss. “Get out of here.” 

“Wait, Soph.” He paused just at the door, giving her a goofy grin. “Will you bring that soft blanket?” 

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”  

“You just fucked me like that and now you're asking me to bring over a blanket for you to sleep with?” 

He grinned, sheepish. “Exactly. See you soon, love you!” He waved quickly before leaving, sneaking out of the house. He had barely left before seeing a text from Sophie - 

better not fall asleep before I’m there. love you too.

[because-edmund]

Daphne Ask #?

Is there any family that Daphne would introduce Hassan to (whether intentionally or because of circumstance)?

Hehe story below 💕 @the-redheaded-league

I’m only ten years younger than her dad… Hassan thinks, waiting outside the strange house. Is that a little messed up? I don’t think so… Her father suddenly opens the door, and they’re finally let in to Daphnes family home.

He shakes the man’s hand after setting his suitcase on the floor, “It’s great to finally meet you!”

“It’s nice meeting you too, two years, huh? Sure she hasn’t driven you mad yet?” He laughs, Daphne glares at him before running to the restroom.

“Ah, yeah. She could never do that!” Hassan laughs. “She’s really quite amazing, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir! I’m only a little bit older than you after all!” Her father, Dan, laughs again.

“Yeah it’s cause of her daddy issues,” her younger sister, Lydia, yells from the table.

“Or maybe this dude is just a cradle robber,” her older one laughs.

Hassan chuckles a bit, tries to brush off the comments. When Daphne walks back from the restroom, he pulls her in to his side, not letting her go. “Are you ok?” She whispers.

“Yeah, shortcake.” He smiles back, gritting his teeth.

She gives him a weak smile back.

They were on a road trip, he had a training seminar to go to, and he tried his damndest to make it romantic, but when their hotel lost their reservations, the only option was to sleep at Daphnes dads house or the car.

Hassan settles them in what would’ve been Daphnes old room, had it not been entirely changed into a room for her dads step-grandchildren. Two twin beds, they couldn’t even sleep next to each other.

“Guess I don’t get my cuddles tonight, huh shortcake?” Hassan laughs.

“I’m sorry, it’s going to be a long night,” she rubs her temples, already feeling a headache.

“You got this, babe,” he sits next to her on her bed, hugging her tightly.

It goes pretty smoothly, all things considered. They make their comments, about his age, about her weight, about the fact she never visits. They both grin and bear it.

“Why her?” Lydia asks, in the middle of dinner.

“Excuse me?” Hassan replies, honestly taken a bit aback.

“It’s like, I know Erin lives on that island, she’s a bit prettier right?”

Hassan can’t find the words to answer this question, and before he can try to open his mouth, Gabby, the oldest says:

“Even Bev is.”

The two start laughing, Daphne rolling her eyes, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself.

“I think your sister blows everyone, here or there, out the water.” Hassan says, picking at the food on his plate.

Her dad snorts, “Sure pal, wait until she has a meltdown. Girl is so sensitive. Can never even take a joke, I mean look at how she’s acting right now.”

Daphne, tired of it, gets up and starts to clean up their plates, not saying anything.

“Oh look, she’s being nice and actually cleaning for once,” Gabby laughs.

“Yeah, bud. You might have to hire a maid. This girl never cleans, lazy as all hell,” he sad sips on his whiskey. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“He’s muslim,” Daphne snaps, the first thing she’s said all night. “He doesn’t drink. And you shouldn’t either, you’re getting a bit rude.” She storms off the the kitchen, plates in hand.

“The fuck did you just say?” Her dad yells after her, and the second he gets out of his chair, Hassan is already grabbing him by the sleeve, forcing him to stay down.

“Don’t,” is all Hassan says, voice hard.

“Don’t what?” Her father slurs. “Teach her a lesson? How dare she talk to me like that, I’m your father show some respect!” He practically spits at Daphne, who’s frozen in place by the kitchen door.

Hassan glares at the man, “All of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Especially you.” In a swift and quick movement, he’s got the man pinned to the wall. “I think it’s best we all head to bed. Be out in the morning, and nothing has to get worse than it already is. Got it?” He looks around the room, seeing the two girls nod. “Good.” He lets the man go, before grabbing the dishes out of daphnes hands, sets them on the table and then holds her close to his chest all the way to the bedroom.

She’s crying the second the door closes, “I’m sorry,” she sobs into his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you mad…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, shortcake.” Hassan holds her tight. “I see you why you can’t fucking stand them.

“They’ve gotten a lot better,” she laughs.

He pulls her out from his chest, stares into her eyes while he wipes her tears with his thumbs. “I love you, sweet girl.” He kisses her softly, just as she says it back.

He stays awake the whole night, and truly understands how Daphne learned to run.