#she's binding with tape or something. yeah let's go with that

[teeayohess]

{ 18 simlish horror-themed recolors of misstiikeri+eir's m2f crooked tee } what a mouthful lmao

i wasn't too sure about how these had turned out at first, but after seeing them in game they actually grew on me, so here they are. thank you @gvaudoiin-tricou for encouraging me to finish them and share! i hope you like them :-)

since this is essentially a mash-up of several people's work (see credits), frankenstein-ed together, it feels pretty appropriate for the theme.... 🧟‍♂️🔪🦇🩸👽 consider this a tiny late simblreen treat, hehe 🎃

these separate tops are for AF only*, since that's what i needed in my game (but the TF/EF meshes should be easy to copy-paste onto) [edit: *added links to an AM version as well]

they are categorized as everyday, sleepwear and athletic (not sure who would want to sleep or exercise in fishnets but hey i'm not judging. also it's really easy to remove them if you like, since they're a separate texture from the shirt)

compressorized, tooltipped, and the files are labeled clearly. the swatch and previews are included in the rar file.

full disclosure, this mesh has a few issues i don't currently have the skills to fix: it has no fat morph (😑), and there is some clipping in places depending on how the sim moves, and a few dark spots (not super noticeable with the black texture, thankfully). if anyone feels inspired to fix the mesh or add morphs, i'll happily update this post and the linked file.

>>> get them here: { SFS } { MF } [edit: AM version here: { SFS } { MF } ]

credits, swatch & unedited pic under the cut.

swatch: (labeled according to the file names for easy id; i suck at reading simlish so 'flash' was all i could understand from that one, apologies if it's incorrect lol)

unedited preview: (taken in-game, with neutral lighting)

credits: the77sims & misstiikeri (original male mesh & 3t2 conversion) eir (m2f conversion) trillyke (fishnets), monilisasims (4t2 conversion) littlecakes (graphics), kalux (4t2 conversion) surprisepeach (graphics)

[forgetmenotnympho]

𐔌 . ⋮ hi ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

violet...

warnings? : ̗̀➛ unfinished vi x reader bc i don't wanna scrap this but I'm gonna do something differentttt let's go lesbians !!!

perspective? : ̗̀➛ second

one thing i'll always argue is that new arcane fans don't get it, no matter what it really is

Vi is such a powerhouse. She always has been. She radiated this loud, confident energy that infected those around her. Her combat boots demanded your attention with every step. Thumping rhythmically against the ground when she walked. Her hands often wrapped carefully with worn white bandages whenever she left for the gym. When her fingers weren't all bandaged up, she was letting you suck on them. Two at a time, watching you with hooded eyes as your gaze was fixed upwards. she wore a few chunky old rings for the look. She said her old man gave them to her when she was younger, so she always kept them on her. She insisted the jewelry was also quite functional when it came to maybe socking any asshole who stared at you too long in the jaw.

Really though, she wasn't that reckless. She only thought about it. It was very rare for her to really go through with it.

--

Vi's apartment was small, but it was nice and homey. Well, if you were like.. a teenage boy, maybe. She didn't have many decorations, not yet, but what she did have was sweet. In the bathroom, you sat on the toilet with its lid closed and watched her as she stared in the mirror.

She watched her reflection carefully as she peeled a tan-ish bandage off of its adhesive. She pressed the badge against her breast, checking her angles in the mirror before repeating those steps again. She did a simple stretch, arm across her now flattened chest, pulling it back with her other. Arms up above her head, she twisted her torso, left and then right. You heard her back crack.

"Comfortable?" You asked simply, wondering for a second why she never let you help her with her binding tape. Vi nodded, "Yeah," as she ran her hands through her long, bright pink hair. The roots were stained with black, and you knew every time she saw her reflection, she sort of regretted dyeing it black. You thought it was hot. The smudged eyeliner, her bruised lips, the small scars that littered her body.

Your eyes trailed up Violet's bare back as she flexed in the mirror. The inked on gears and smoke clouds shifting slightly with every miniscule movement of her trained muscles. Rising to your feet, you joined Vi in the mirror, her arms fell to her side as she pecked your cheek. Her heavy hands found you. They slipped under your punk t-shirt and squeezed your tummy gently. She pulled you closer to her.

"Mmm, you smell good, baby," she hummed into your neck. It felt electric whenever her fingers came in contact with your skin. Whenever her lips touched yours. Whenever the two of you made any sort of contact, you felt in your soul that this was where you were meant to be. She slipped her hands under the waistband of your shorts

@imurmommynowbitch

𐔌 . ⋮ bye ty .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[hiskillingjar]

Crying (Lawrence/MC)

second person. tfem law and gn reader, no reference to genitals or use of pet names. need a girl to be my mom and threaten to bury me in her backyard <3

“No, no, please don’t cry…please? Why are you crying so much?”

You hiccuped softly through your sobs, fingers curling around the arms of the chair you were bound to, staring at the wide-eyed, trembling girl who had apparently put you in this situation. She might have been tall, but she was rail thin and gawky-looking, like she'd weigh one hundred pounds soaking wet. She was swallowed up in a long skirt, hooded jacket, and plaid overshirt, which all made her look that much smaller. 

You didn't know why she was begging you for anything.

"Please, just calm down..." She pleaded again, her hands trembling in her lap, spindly fingers clenching at air. "Please... you really don't have anything to be worried about."

She took in a deep breath of her own, wetting her lips hesitantly.

"You're...y-you're not here because I'm going to hurt you, alright?"

"Y-You're not going to hurt me?" you repeated back to her, trying to swallow some of your tears before you started crying again. "Then why am I-" You interrupted yourself with a sniffle. "Why am I here?"

"You're here because," She glanced away, not letting herself look at you, before she sank down to her knees in front of you. She was trying to make herself look smaller, less dangerous, even though you were the one tied to the chair. "I need you. I need you..."

"What?" You blinked down at her, pressing your back to the back of the chair. "W...What do you need me for...?"

"B-Because, well...I'm lonely," She looked up at you then, her grey eyes pleading as she swallowed hard. "And I need someone who understands me. I think..." She scratched the back of her neck. "You could be that person, I think. And... no one's ever been that person for me before..."

Her lower lip trembled as she spoke, just like the rest of her, and she picked at the ends of her fingers, her fingernails, making the skin raw and shiny. She looked like a lost and frightened child in that moment, as opposed to the person who had kidnapped you. 

God, why did you feel like you needed to be the composed one here? 

This girl was...unstable, but that might mean you could get out of here.

"Okay," You swallowed, doing your best to soften your scared tone despite your fear. "I-It's okay. You just...need someone to care for you, then..."

She perked up slightly, hearing you soften your voice, and her hands clutched desperately at her bony knees.

"Yes...yes, that's it. I do. I just want someone who understands me." Her grey eyes were wide, wide like saucers, and there was something almost manic about them as a shaky smile came to her face, hesitant and eerie looking.

Her fingers tightened on her knees and her knuckles turned white with the force of her grip, silently displaying the deceptive strength that she possessed.

"So, you...you understand me, right?" She took another deep, shaky breath. "You'll understand me, won't you?"

"Mmhmm," You nodded, attempting to give her a weak smile, idly gripping at the tape binding you to the arms of the chair. "Yeah, I-I get it. I do." You nodded again. "You're just...lonely. There's nothing wrong with that."

She seemed to relax upon hearing you say that, the tension in her fingers releasing from her knees ever so slightly, though her eyes still gleamed with something wild. 

"And you're not...you're not scared of me, are you?" She asked, her voice soft and filled with a fearful albeit hopeful vulnerability.

"Um...n-no, I'm not, but," Your fingers curled slightly, testing for weak spots in the plastic. "I'd feel a lot better if you...untied me."

She hesitated for a moment too long to be entirely settled by your act of kindness and understanding, her eyes flitting from you to the binds around your wrists and ankles and back again. Her expression was a mix of fear and disappointment, almost childlike.*

"No," She said, shaking her head, her blonde brows furrowing. "You...you said you weren't afraid of me. You can't just...take that back now."

"I'm not," You said quickly, trying to sit forward in your seat, trying to assure her. "I promise, I'm not afraid of you...I-I just think it would be...nicer if I wasn't tied up, is all."

"Then I don't care about being nice," She then said, barely letting you breathe between your words, before she stood to her feet, tall and...slightly more intimidating above you, her attitude turning against you like the turn of a switch. "I didn't bring you here to be nice. I might have convinced myself that I did, but...there's no point in that anymore."

Your own eyes widened and began to water again as she pressed against you, her hands overlapping your wrists and her face close to yours, close enough that you could really see the pale colour of her skin, the veins standing out around her eyes, the cracks in her lips.

"N-No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

She silenced you before you could say anything else, pressing her fingers to your lips (the skin mottled and stained, fingernails painted black to distract from the cracks in the keratin), their touch light but stern. Her face was closer to yours, too, so close you could feel her cool breath on your skin. Her eyes were intense and wide, her gaze nearly feral.

"Stop talking," She whispered, her voice cold and low. "I didn't say that you could talk.

You whimpered softly against her fingers, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears started to fall down your cheeks, making your entire body tremble underneath hers.

She didn't ask you to quiet down this time, leaning closer to you and idly rubbing her cheek against yours. You could feel the slight prickle of recently shaved stubble on your skin, and her hair, coarse and slightly matted, grazed your shuddering chest. She seemed to almost nuzzle against you, like a cat seeking comfort or warmth (warmth that her body didn't possess...for whatever reason), and her fingers slid gently up to your chin, tilting your head upwards, their touch gentle but controlling.

"There we go...much better..." She whispered in your ear, an almost maternal edge to her voice. "You're better when you're quiet."

"Oh god," You breathed inwardly, pressing your lips together to hold back a sob as her knee pressed between your legs, her gathered skirts cascading over your trembling thighs, the thick scent of plant matter and rot the only thing you could take in when she was so close.

"Ah-ah-ah," She tutted with a soft huff through her nose, her knee pressing even harder between your legs, holding you open to her, her body looming over yours like a vulture about to descend on a carcass. "No crying. I don't want to hear any crying from you, understand me?"

She leaned her face further against yours then, her cheek pressed so close to your own that you could feel her pale eyelashes brushing your skin.

Without words or proper sobs, you breathed rapidly, in and out, through your nose, tears continuing to trail down your flushed cheeks.

She looked at you and laughed softly, high and tittering, wheezing, like she was being choked, her hand tracing gently away from your lips and down the side of your face, her touch almost reverent, her eyes almost hungry as she beheld you. She leaned even closer, her lips hovering inches away from yours.

“I just changed my mind,” She whispered, her tone shockingly even. “I think I will hurt you…and bury you under the tree out back..."

"Don't hurt me," You pleaded with a desperate shake of your head. "I didn't do anything wrong. Please don't hurt me..."

"Shhh shhh sh..." She hushed you without listening to your desperate pleas, shushing you like a mother shushing her child, her fingers tracing your jaw. "Don't cry, baby. You're too good at it."

"You know...you've got the perfect face to find on the side of a milk carton. I can't wait to see it."

[mlqueen89]

Six Sentence Sunday

... because i'm not yet asleep, it still counts as sunday, so here she is. a not six sentence sunday. a snippet sunday, if you will. not sure if this is anything yet, but this is a thing that happened because i have a glen powell problem obsession and he makes me want to die in the best way.

The director, Isla Rivera, stood with her arms crossed, glaring at the monitor. The scene had been shot five times already, and each take was measurably worse than the last.

“No, no, no!” Isla finally shouted, throwing up her hands. “This isn’t working. The audience isn’t going to feel anything! There’s no tension, no connection. It’s, it's... flat!”

The actress playing the female lead, a rising star named Lila Marks, looked over with an apologetic shrug. “I’m trying, Isla, but—”

“It’s not about trying, Lila,” Isla interrupted, pacing in frustration. “It’s about being. This kiss is the pivotal moment, where the characters finally give in to everything they’ve been holding back. It’s longing, it’s vulnerability, it’s fireworks—” She turned to Aimee, who had been standing just off set, scribbling notes in the notebook with the crooked binding. “You,” Isla jabbed a finger in Aimee's direction, “you wrote this scene. You are this scene. You know it better than anyone.”

Aimee blinked, caught off guard, suddenly aware of the amount of eyes on her. “Uh, yeah, I guess, but—”

“Perfect,” Isla said, her eyes lighting up with determination. She waved a hand toward the set, as if it were nothing. “You’ll do it.”

Aimee’s stomach dropped into her toes. “Wait, what?”

“Get in there. Show them how it’s supposed to look. You and Glen. Right now.” Isla huffed, sipping on the green smoothie she never seemed to run out of, her too large headphones hanging around her neck as she settled back into her usual chair.

Glen, who had been leaning casually against a prop table, straightened and raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that, Isla?”

“Absolutely. Lila needs to see it. Aimee, you’ll step in for her, just for one take. No cameras rolling—this is strictly for reference.”

“I don’t think this is—” Aimee started, but Isla wasn’t listening, her hand already waving at the crew standing around to reset.

“Let’s go, people!” Isla clapped her hands, beckoning Aimee toward the set. “Glen, hit your mark. Aimee, come on. Stand on the tape. You’re doing the scene.”

Aimee hesitated, glancing at Glen, who gave her a small, reassuring smile. “No pressure,” he said with a slight shrug, though his tone was teasing.

“Right,” Aimee muttered, her cheeks already warming as she reluctantly stepped onto the set. She felt completely out of place as the crew adjusted lights and set pieces around her.

Isla scuttled over, positioned Aimee carefully between the table and Glen. “Okay, Aimee, remember, this is the big moment. You’ve been fighting this attraction for the entire story. Now it all comes spilling out. Go with it. Glen, you know what to do.” Isla clapped him on the bicep before skipping away, her excitement palpable.

Aimee swallowed hard as Glen stepped closer, his expression shifting into something serious, intense. Her heart started pounding in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

“Ready?” Glen asked softly, his voice low.

Aimee nodded, her throat suddenly dry.

"And, action!" Isla's voice followed by a clap of her hands carried over to Aimee.

The scene began as it had the last five takes before this one. Glen took a step toward her, closing the space between them. His gaze locked onto hers, his hands hovering near her waist but not quite touching her. The air between them felt charged, like it might spark if they moved even an inch closer.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice filled with the perfect blend of frustration and longing, just as she’d written.

“That’s not my fault,” Aimee replied, her own voice shaky but real, the line coming to her as easy as when she wrote it last year, cursor blinking on her too small laptop screen.

“It is,” Glen murmured, leaning in. “Because every time I look at you—”

He didn’t finish the line, because the moment had already taken over. His face was just inches from hers now, and Aimee felt the heat of his breath against her skin. It felt real—too real.

Her eyes fluttered shut instinctively as he leaned closer, the distance between them almost nonexistent. Then—

“THAT!” Isla’s voice cut through the moment like a clap of thunder. “That is the chemistry this scene needs!”

Aimee jolted back, her eyes flying open as reality came rushing back in. Glen took a step away, rubbing the back of his neck, looking as flustered as she felt.

Lila watched from the edge of the set, wide-eyed. “Okay, yeah. I get it now.”

Aimee, her cheeks burning, quickly stepped off the set, avoiding everyone’s gaze. She heard Isla continuing to lecture Lila about connection and timing, but the words barely registered, her mind swimming.

Glen caught her eye as she passed him, and for a second, she thought he might say something, but he didn’t. He just gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. For that, at least, she was thankful.

Aimee fled until she reached the safety of the craft services table, grabbing a bottle of water and pressing it to her overheated face. She could still feel the ghost of the moment—the way Glen's eyes had burned into hers, the way he’d leaned in.

“Get it together, Aimee,” she muttered to herself. But the pounding in her chest wasn’t going anywhere.

i can do it with a broken heart - glen powell x ofc

[novacorpsrecruit]

Bound by the Situation

Day 21 Steddie Kinktober prompts from @infinite-orangepeel on twitter

Mature • wc 771 • tw improper packing tape usage • prompt: accidental kink discovery

•••••

“Harrington!” Eddie called from the stock room of the Family Video. “Need your help!”

It was new inventory day, which meant Keith scheduled an extra person to help with the new inventory. Three Family Video employees always seemed like too much on a Tuesday afternoon — even with the new inventory, but Eddie, Steve and Robin weren’t going to argue about sharing a shift together. Robin waved Steve off as she flipped her magazine. She knew the risk of sending Eddie and Steve off together. She may not see them until the end of their shift. But with as slow as it was, she almost didn’t care. She had more quiet time for reading. She could put on her own music and nobody would complain if they’re sucking face.

Steve pushed the door to the back room, catching Eddie with the roll of shipping tape in his hands and at least once around his wrists. He grinned sheepishly at Steve. “A little help?”

“I don’t know how you want me to help,” Steve said, feeling his throat go dry. He crossed his arms. “What are you even doing anyway?”

“I was wondering if I could break through this,” Eddie said. “Like if my wrists were bound? If I could break it.”

“If your wrists were bound,” Steve repeated.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Like if I was kidnapped or held hostage.”

“You were taping your wrists together,” Steve said slowly, his eyes traveling down Eddie’s body to his wrists.

“To see if I could break free,” Eddie completed his sentence. “Now bind me.”

“Okay,” Steve breathed, stepping into Eddie’s space. He took the roll of tape from Eddie’s hands, slowly wrapping it around his wrists. Steve could feel a rush of excitement, a pool of heat in his gut, as he assumes he couldn’t wait to see Eddie test his strength. He’d wonder if he could convince Eddie to try it on him, as well.

“Tighter,” Eddie commanded. Steve obeyed. He wrapped it around tighter three more times, letting Eddie test the restraints before giving a nod. “Perfect. Now cut it.”

Steve leaned down, taking the tape between his teeth and tearing it, leaning back to pull it apart.

“Fuck —“

Steve looked up at Eddie as he laid down the end of the tape. He had a grin plastered on his face — the same troublesome grin that Steve knew meant trouble. That Eddie was up to something. The same lopsided grin that pulled the scar tissue tight. The same grin that Steve loved.

“That was hot.”

Steve rolled his eyes, taking a step back. “Okay, Eds,” he said, gesturing to his bound wrists. “Do your thing.”

Eddie yanked at his wrists, the tape didn’t budge. He struggled for a minute before searching for another attempt. He tried bringing it against his hip to no avail. He tried twisting his wrists to see if it helped loosen the tape, but it may have made it worse. He grunted as he lifted his hands above his head, attempting pulling his wrists apart.

And Steve?

Steve watched from the distance, feeling himself go almost lightheaded with desire as he watched his boyfriend struggle against the the tape, binding his wrists together. Steve audibly closed his mouth, letting the saliva pool in his mouth before swallowing. He couldn’t help but admire Eddie as he tried to fight the restraints, his body thrashing from side to side, the chain on his jeans jingling, as he could not break free. He lifted his eyes to Steve, and Steve couldn’t hold back any further.

Steve nearly pounced on Eddie, his hand quickly covering the bound wrists above Eddie’s head. Eddie audibly swallowed. “Steve?”

“I think —“ Steve breathed, collecting the thoughts buzzing around his head. “I think we need to take the tape home with us tonight.”

“Home?” Eddie asked, his eyes big like a baby deer.

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding slowly. “Think you look real pretty tied up like this.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked. The realization suddenly dawned on Eddie of what Steve was asking. “You like me tied up, big boy? Like me on display for you?”

“Keeps you in one place, doesn’t it?” Steve asked with a smirk. He pressed a hot kiss on the corner of his jaw, nipping at the skin lightly as he squeezed his wrists in his hand. “Oh the things I’d do to you like this, Pretty boy.”

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned. “Bathroom. Now.”

Eddie slipped out of Steve’s grip with ease as he pulled Steve towards the employee bathroom. “Robin! 15 minute break!”

“Disinfect the room, you perverts!” She yelled back.

•••••

[timextoxhajima]

Sonder: Part V [Final]

Parts: I II III IV V

member: enhypen heeseung! x oc! woo ki yeom [3rd person pov]

genre: coming of age, slice of life, angst, romance

w/c: 4k

taglist: @missychief1404 (i had this chapter written out months ago, but you're the reason why i decided to post it! thank you for reading <3)

warnings: topics on religion, distressed relationships, mental health (I want to leave an a/n here that I grew up with my maternal family being Buddhists so what I've written is based off what I researched online and the way her family practised Buddhism. I'm personally a free-tinker and this narrative is not in any way meant to offend nor support any particular religion.)

synopsis: after being kicked out of her home, Woo Ki Yeom is forced to live life on her own. struggling to find herself in the midst of her chaotic life, she meets lee heeseung, who, like her, can't give any more fucks to life than she does.

"n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own."

Author's Note:

Before you embark on the closing chapter of Sonder, I would first like to offer you a virtual hug! <3 Sonder is a love letter to all lost relationships (be it familial, friends, romantic). In the last few months of 2023, I lost a couple of friends whom I trusted. I'm still in the midst of healing and recovering from it.

Sonder started out as an angry rant when I felt anger from the falling out, but I couldn't bring myself to continue because at some point, I felt like this wasn't the right way to cope. I was still angry and hadn't come to terms with it. But the longer it took, the more I realised I just wanted to heal, and that things truly just happened. No amount of anger was going to undo what was done. They had apologised for the things they did, but I reacted by cutting them out, and I'm not sorry for it.

The chapter has ended, but the book doesn't.

I hope you have found comfort in Sonder, be it through the eyes of Ki Yeom who represents my anger and process of healing, or Heeseung, who is lost in life and has no direction. Perhaps through the eyes of Ji Yeon, who simply did what she thought was right but yet it wasn't, or Ki Yeom's father who had neglected to care for something when it was in need. Last but not least, Ahn Yoo Hyeon, who is my innate desire to be my own person, but cannot, due to the things that naturally bind her to her purpose in life.

I'm not sure when I will write again, or if I ever will, but if I were to leave one last story for my readers who have been with me for the last couple of years since my Capital Letters and Hostis days, I thought it was appropriate to write Sonder.

My ask is always open and I still do check Tumblr every day. I'll try my best to respond if any. I hope that my words, stories, and characters stick with my readers for years to come.

Writing for everybody has been an absolute pleasure.

With Love,

Dana

"So this is the million-dollar book!"

"She'll kill you if she knows you touched it."

"Have you?"

"I didn't touch it but she showed me once."

Gasp.

"Yeah, go through my things while you're packing," Ki Yeom pushes her way into her apartment, a folded box in hand.

"Jun Yeol touched it first."

"I was curious," He closes the book and places it on the table. "It doesn't kill to be a little curious where all your ideas are stored, is it? I can't believe you've shown it to Heeseung but not us!"

"In my defense, I'm rarely curious about her shit," Heeseung raises his hands in surrender and shrugs.

"Then how did you get her to show it to you?" Soo Min squints at him.

"I caught him snooping around my stuff so I caved and let him see it," Ki Yeom finally gets the folded box into shape and pulls out the tape.

Her colleagues' jaws drop as they scream 'unfair', rolling their eyes as they pick up the book to flip through it again.

Ki Yeom can hear their whispering as she packs her newly bought pot-and-pan and kitchenware, and it cracks a little smile on her lips, knowing that she would miss their voices and their bickering in the years she will be away.

In truth, she doesn't know if she would even be coming back.

They must think she's selfish for taking up the offer that their boss had offered her elsewhere and overseas, but even if they did think that, it's not her problem, is it?

She gets the box taped up and she stands up straight, turning around to see that they've gone back to helping her pack the rest of her things. But Heeseung was still, backfacing her, head looking down and his arms barely moving from where she could see him.

So, she walks over and tiptoes, trying her best to look over his shoulders without letting him know she was right behind him.

"Hard to believe this was six months ago."

Ki Yeom relaxes, rolling her eyes as she walks around him.

In his hands was the letter her father wrote her, with the wrong unit number written on the envelope.

"What can I say, time waits for no man," Ripping the letter out of his hands, she crumples it into a ball, playing basketball with it into the trash bag they had by the door.

As the ball of paper lands in the plastic, Ahn Yoo Hyeon appears by the door, purse hanging from her forearm and sunglasses pushed onto the crown of her head.

"I was wondering if they had taken the day off to come help you."

"Honestly, a waste of time!" Jun Yeol dramatically replies. "She has nothing."

"It's good to travel light where you're going anyway," Ahn Yoo Hyeon takes a deep breath and looks around the apartment. "Let me know if you need anything before you fly. I'll see you on Sunday at eight."

Then she turns around on her heels and leaves.

The funniest thing about the last six months is that Ki Yeom wondered how different it would have been if her 'arcs' had been spaced out or in the wrong sequence. How strange was it to have all the events lined up almost one after another?

Sometimes, just for fun, she would imagine if she hadn't met Heeseung, and her father hadn't written the wrong address. She wouldn't have met him because neither of them cared enough to talk to each other.

Imagine if Ji Yeon hadn't showed up. Ki Yeom knew for sure that nothing would've changed. Ji Yeon would still be texting her every now and then, begging her to hang out when she didn't want to.

Imagine if her father hadn't showed up either - Ki Yeom sometimes wonders if he's going to come back again, find out she's moved away, and think about where she's gone.

Then again, that's not her problem either, is it?

"You left a tissue in your machine last week, you know?" Mr Hsien nags at her the moment Ki Yeom appears in his line of sight.

"Sorry!" Placing her laundry bag down, Heeseung helps to push a token into her machine first. "I'll make sure to check this time round."

"You better. Else I'll charge you two times next week!"

Ki Yeom glances at Heeseung. A knowing smile.

"You're not gonna tell him?"

"What for?" She loads her clothes in, fingers digging into the pockets as she does. "He'll be more than happy I'm no longer using his washing machines. Besides, you'll be here to tell him."

"I'm not gonna have a conversation with him telling him where you've gone and why you're gone."

"Well, too bad."

After the washing machine starts its usual humming and vibrating, Ki Yeom sits next to him on the row of seats, listening to the TikTok and Instagram Reels play on his phone while she looks through the digital documents that the art organisation had emailed her.

Ki Yeom hadn't thought that four years of isolation and loneliness could be undone in just six months. Maybe 'undone' is the wrong word.

Though she must admit, she didn't know what she was waiting for. In hindsight, she wonders what it was like to aimlessly tear through each day. It wasn't even that long ago, so she does remember that feeling of emptiness. She wonders if that's the exact same feeling that Heeseung has been dealing with, and probably will have to for longer.

She considers herself lucky. That for her, this four-year chapter is coming to an end.

But it's bittersweet. There's nothing attractive about being in constant fear and worry of having someone unwanted showing up at your doorstep or leaving you messages, but it reminds you that someone out there is still looking for you. This knowledge that someone still gives a shit about you... that's the thing that's addictive and hard to let go of.

Sometimes, she wonders if this is a good thing. Even though she has closed the chapter with her parents and Ji Yeon, it meant that she no longer had a reason to be interlinked with them and vice versa. Her parents are just her parents now. Ji Yeon is now an ex-best friend.

She looks up from her phone and ever so slightly, turns to Heeseung, whose soul is quite literally in his phone screen.

There wasn't enough time.

To explore. This friendship.

Or whatever you called it.

Ki Yeom had never crushed on anybody. She wonders what it must feel like. She always does. She had watched Ji Yeon entertain the boys that ogled over her at school, but she never had one herself.

She recalls the first time she met Heeseung. She was uncouth. Rude, cold and nonchalant. Which boy would like that kind of girl?

She snickers to herself.

"What?" Heeseung asks without looking up from his phone. "The video wasn't even that funny."

"Nothing," Ki Yeom shakes her head. "Though, can I ask you something? Feel free to ignore me or change the subject if you can't answer."

Heeseung hums in response. He scrolls.

"What is it like to have a crush on someone? What's it like to... be in university?"

Such simple questions.

But Heeseung feels stumped. He knew Ki Yeom didn't have the luxury to attend university, but he never thought she would think and ask about it.

He stops and turns down the volume first, then locks his phone and puts it down in his lap.

"The second question's easier to answer. Depending on the crowd you hang out with, university is either a four-year-long party before you go into the working world or... where you go through your existential crises before you go into the working world."

"So either way, it's kind of a shitshow, just whether it's on the fun side or the depressing side?"

"Bingo," Heeseung snaps his fingers and points at her. "The first question, however... I think it's different for most of people. A crush could mean many things. Like an eye-candy, or just a periodic infatuation just 'cause the person's cool or pretty. Or it could be some love-at-first-sight shit that's genuine."

"Do you believe in that? Love at first sight?"

"No," Heeseung shakes his head and puckers his lips in thought. "I mean when you're younger, yeah. I had a crush when I was a kid. Liked her for a couple of years, even though she rejected me right at the start. But my perseverance got me a short run with her."

"'Short run'? How short?" Ki Yeom smiles.

"Like... three months."

"Wow," She laughs and scratches the back of her neck. "Three years for three months?"

"That's exactly what a friend of mine said."

"But you said that was when you were younger. What about recent times? Has it changed for you? I never... had the chance to like someone. When I was in high school with Ji Yeon, I was so caught up in finding myself... with my art and dealing with... being poor. Then not being able to go to college pretty much sealed the deal. My last chance to be a student and a kid and meet people and fall in love and have break-ups was in high school and I didn't know."

Heeseung squints at her. "I don't think that going through all that in high school is advised. I mean, yes, that's when everybody goes through all that, but like... usually it's stupid and messy."

"At least they have the privilege of going through something stupid and messy and not have to worry about... other things. I thought that's what being a teenager is about. Being obnoxiously ignorant about everything else... only thinking about the guy or girl you liked and whether they would ask you out on a date."

He tilts his head at her, eyes looking away as he thinks.

"I think you were destined to... lead a life that the regular person doesn't get to experience. I know how terrible and shit it sounds because it just sounds like I'm trying to comfort you, but I do think you're special. In a resilient and talented type of way. That you were pulled off the average, regular path, and forced onto a better, more rewarding one. Albeit tough."

"Risky game."

"I don't think that if you had spent just a single minute thinking about a guy or a girl... it would've been worth it. It's like asking a God to worry about what color I should dye my hair."

A pause. Ki Yeom nods, a gentle smile on her lips.

"Thank you. For putting it that way."

Another pause. Heeseung was thinking. Then he parts his lips, a breath coming out before a word does.

"For me, I take awhile to like a person. It doesn't come easy nowadays, especially that I'm busy trying to find life fun. But I think right now... I wouldn't know it. I think I would've liked someone without knowing, and then something would happen that made me realise I liked this person."

"So like, 'never knew it until you lost it' kind of concept?"

"Something like that."

Ki Yeom hums in response.

"What about you? I mean, hypothetically, what do you think you're like? If you had a crush?"

"Hm," She rests her elbow on her crossed leg, chin resting on her folded fingers. "I probably have a curse of some sort. All that talk about me being on a more special path would give me tunnel vision, to the point that even if I did like someone and I knew, I don't think I'd stop my life to entertain it."

And just like that.

For some reason, it felt like they had a whole other conversation without even having it. There's a strange, bubbly feeling in Ki Yeom's stomach when she realises how quiet it's gone, on top of the machines' whirring.

She turns to look at him, whose eyes are a little bit sad, like they had heard something he knew was coming, but didn't want to hear. They were flitting between hers, as if waiting for her to say something else.

He blinks, then turns to look at his hands, thumb running over the mild callouses that have formed from playing the piano. Then Heeseung turns back to her, head tilted and eyes unable to focus.

"In an alternate universe... maybe we'll meet in school. And... you'll be the nonchalant, quiet, I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything girl, and I might find it in myself to be curious about you... In a life that you didn't have to worry about your friends or the way you reacted, about your family or money. In a life where you could be 'obnoxiously ignorant'."

"In a life where I'd be your only problem. A crush that you wouldn't know how to fix or solve. Or maybe leave you with a heartbreak that would change your perspective of life and become a better person."

"I'll admit that I was worried. That I'd be the heartbroken one after you leave, knowing that you bought a one-way ticket and have no plans to return. But I'm no longer worried, because... I think I'd rather be heartbroken while you're still here."

By now he's looking at her, eyes slightly widened and glistening.

Ki Yeom's insides have been stretched, crushed and wringed, like towels on a spring cleaning day.

This gut-wrenching feeling felt all so familiar, and yet, so different.

Heeseung blinks and takes a deep breath, stretching as he leans back.

"I watched you fight your way out of your own life. Your own problems came knocking on your door and you somehow pushed through all those chapters and mishaps and everything. I was not going to be the person who confessed and made you feel like you had to stay."

Then he turns and looks at her, eyes still full of wander despite everything he's seen her go through.

"But now that I know how you feel and what you think, I'm thankful that... You care about yourself. I'm glad that you are the I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything girl."

"You know sometimes I hate being that girl, don't you?"

"I know you do, but you are, and there's nothing wrong with it."

Ki Yeom frowns, trying to accept it; trying to accept herself; trying to accept that some chapters were never meant to be written. Some arcs were never meant to happen.

Perhaps this acceptance was an arc of itself.

In another life.

On the day Ahn Yoo Hyeon met Woo Ki Yeom, she was having a particularly horrid day. Coming from her, that was unusual. She would never know if it was fate or some kind of sign, but it was the first time in ten years that it rained on her brother's death anniversary.

Just earlier that morning, she had to brave the rain to get to the florist to pick up the flowers she had ordered. But not only was she almost completely drenched by the time she had gotten there, the florist had lost the order form and forgotten to make the bouquet.

Half her day had already been ruined, and she wasn't even at the cemetery.

But her brother's best friend, showed up like an angel, to the florist as she was making the bouquet in a frantic manner. It's normal to see people freeze and get uncomfortable when they meet Oh Jihoon, for he was absolutely covered in tattoos. This included his face, his ears, the inside of his lips and into corners of the body you couldn't see.

"She giving you a hard time?" Yoo Hyeon remembers him teasing her to the florist.

"My apologies! I lost the order form, but the moment she stepped in- I remembered that she had ordered it-"

"Take your time! We're not in a rush."

Yoo Hyeon turns to him, brows furrowed. She lifts her sunglasses and glares at her with those angry orbs that her brother had as well.

"What?" He sits on a nearby stool, holding his phone between his thumb and index finger and gestures out the shop. "Take a look at the weather, would you? You're gonna make her wrap the bouquet up nicely then let it soak and drown in the rain?"

She huffs, wanting to retort but having nothing to say.

"How's the parlour going? Last you told me, you hired a couple of youngsters?"

She glares at him once more, then puts her glasses back on when she decides that he's right.

"The girl's a tomboy gangster and the boy's a gay unicorn. Funnily enough, they seem close."

Jihoon laughs boisterously. Yoo Hyeon can hear her brother's laughter in his.

"You sayin' that he's gay because you know for a fact?"

"He's got bright pink hair dyed down to his roots, and he talks like a girl."

"Hey, now," Jihoon raises both palms and chuckles.

"I think I know when I see a gay man. Plus, I say that with zero offence. What's wrong with calling someone gay if it's just an observation?"

"Ah- There's the education talking," He pauses, finger playing with the piercings on his ears. "You sound like your brother."

"Shocker."

"You know, back in the day-"

By the time Yoo Hyeon had finished rolling her eyes at Jihoon's throwback, the florist had finished wrapping up the bouquet and apologised for the hundredth time. Initially rejecting the payment, Yoo Hyeon knew better than to refuse the service, handing her a hundred dollar bill and telling her to keep the change.

Jihoon had given her a soft 'ooh' in a bid to praise her coolness, and honestly? Yoo Hyeon could barely hide the smile.

The cemetery was about a thirty minutes drive out of the city.

"I always wondered what he'd be doing. Like what would he be working as? Would he be married and have kids?"

"No clue. But, honestly? Maybe zookeeper," He places both hands on the steering wheel as he turns down the winding path, rain drenching the windshield despite the wipers clearing it every second. "Suits him. Not having to wear office attires or deal with people. Married with kids? Not sure. Depends on whether he knocked someone up by accident."

Yoo Hyeon smiles to herself, eyes watching as the trees blur past and the city's skyline blending into the mountains behind.

"Anyway, your interview. You just had one recently, didn't you? For a touring art organisation?" She turns to him.

"Yeah. I'm still waiting on the results but I think I'm gonna get it."

"And when you do, you would have to move?"

"Seasonally, yeah. I guess I'd be spending months overseas, at a time."

"So, you wouldn't be here? On some years?"

Jihoon goes quiet. "Maybe. But you know I'll try my best to come back."

She hums in response. "It'd be different without you here."

"I know, but you know... One of the last things he told me was to never look back. He always told me that the damage had been done, so what for writhe in your own shit and cry about it? Don't think he'd be all that pleased if he knew we were fussing about him. In fact, sometimes when we visit him... he might not even be there."

Now, Yoo Hyeon can't stifle the laugh that comes out.

Later that day, Jihoon had wanted to drop her off at home, knowing that she was drenched that morning and knowing that it wasn't an easy day for her. But something in her told her to go back to the parlour. For whatever reason it was, she would never know.

But grief works in strange ways.

Yoo Hyeon knew that, to some, it was a stretch to think that her brother was the one who led her to Ki Yeom, who was starving and had obviously cried her eyes out when she found her down the street from the parlor, hiding herself from the rain.

But she will always think it was, because it was comforting to think that perhaps, her brother was watching over her, and even the people who might need her help.

She doesn't know why she hired Ki Yeom so quickly. She doesn't know why she felt the need to help her find accommodation. She doesn't know why she felt like she saw something in Ki Yeom, that would lead her to this very moment.

At the airport. Seeing her off. Into Jihoon's care where she will most likely blossom into a whole other person artistically.

"Jihoon's abit weird when you first meet him, but don't mind it. He's covered in tattoos and that's the only thing that's scary about him. Otherwise, he's a loser," She pulls off her glasses and folds the arms inwards.

Ki Yeom smiles and nods, hugging her jacket in her arms.

"Thank you, Ms Ahn. For taking care of me, ever since we met. I really wouldn't be here without you. I mean it. And it's true. Nothing can refute it."

The older takes a deep breath and raises a brow, "You have my brother to thank for that. He's dead, but I'd like to think he was there the day I found you on that street. Jihoon will tell you more when you get there."

Something in Ki Yeom turns sad and sour as she processed Yoo Hyeon's words. She purses her lips, offering a small smile.

"If you ever come back, I expect you to return."

"Of course."

Yoo Hyeon nods with intention, and slides her sunglasses back on.

Ki Yeom turns around, in her peripheral vision, noticing Soo Min and Jun Yeol getting into another bicker as Heeseung approaches her.

He sucks in a deep breath and shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders shrugged up to his ears.

"New arc, new season."

She smiles, turning to look at the gate into the departure hall.

"It was nice... being a character in one of your seasons."

A knowing exchange of looks. Ki Yeom doesn't know what to say. Heeseung doesn't either. What else is there left to say?

"Will you hate me if I end up treating you like Ji Yeon?"

Heeseung parts his lips and frowns, then a smile creeps up on his lips. "Maybe. But you know what? I don't think I'd blame you. I'm just... a character in a season."

Ki Yeom takes a deep breath, and reaches out to wrap her arms around him, pressing her head into his collar and shutting her eyes.

"You'll be the character that everybody shipped me with, but never got together, and would write fanfics or canons about us if we happened."

She can hear him chuckle in his chest as he returns the hug. He intentionally lowers his head and nearer to her ear, "Accurate canon."

For the first time in Ki Yeom's life, she felt truly free.

Free from all the things that kept her here, free from all her worries and concerns. She was now going to live the life of one of those girls online, talking about how they moved abroad to work and explore a new culture and lead a new life. Ironically, she worried if she was going become one of those girls.

But even if she did, it's not her problem.

Is it?

[eddysocs]

The Tie That Binds Us — Chapter Twelve (Uncharted Territory)

Summary: Harper reluctantly reports the vandalism, and spends her final days at Liberty. Yet, before the holiday season really gets going, she knows she has to have a very important conversation with Olivia.

Word Count: 1,153

Warnings: Angst

The incident was reported to the school. Harper insisted on taking it to them alone, though Olivia offered to do it with her. She wasn’t even planning on making the report, but she couldn’t let the graffiti just stay there, someone on the staff would notice it eventually. And Olivia had insisted that the school ought to take this bullying thing seriously, so Harper had agreed to report it the next day.

"Is there any reason you think someone would do this to you, Miss Cassidy?"

"I don’t know," she lied. She knew where it stemmed from, of that she was almost certain, but the reason someone was a bully, in this case, felt unnecessary. She just wanted it cleaned off and filed into some report so she could move on.

"Well I’m sorry this has happened. We will be sure to cover over the damage. If you need to talk—"

"Yeah, I know. We have counseling." Harper hadn’t meant to be so short with them, but the sooner this was over, the better off she’d be. Nine goddamn more days. Then she was done.

Harper went about her business as if nothing had bothered her the day before. It was how she’d learned to survive. Never let them see you crack. It would only lead to more trouble. So she kept a stone face each and every time she walked into Liberty High, only breaking it to offer Tony or Clay a nod and a half hearted smile. If anyone wanted to get after her about the word so crassly spray painted on their locker, they thought better of it.

At last, her final Friday rolled around, and when gym let out, she heaved a sigh of relief. She’d gotten her credit, break was here, and she never had to come back here. She could focus on herself, Olivia, and the case they were working on to bring some kind of justice for Hannah.

That is precisely what happened. From the moment she got home that day, they focused on the case against Liberty High. They’d gathered what evidence they could, and Harper hoped the tapes would make their way into evidence once the lawsuit was officially filed. All they could do until then was wait.

And for the next week, everything felt almost normal. The holiday season was in full swing, and though there was no snow on the ground to show it, Harper felt the holiday spirit begin to light up inside her. This had once been her favorite time of the year, but the last several had been anything but merry. She was hoping her first Christmas with Olivia would change that.

But before she could truly settle into the infectious happiness of the season, she knew she had to have the conversation with Olivia about the graffiti. It was time she explained herself like she promised, even though she had hoped Olivia wouldn’t have to find out this way.

"Olivia, I’m ready to talk about the graffiti," she started, bracing herself on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, her body vibrating with nerves that indicated she really wasn’t ready for this. Yet she persisted. Olivia had a right to know. "The reason they used that word, and the reason I reacted so badly to it…was because of you." As she paused for a breath, and to take a seat across from Olivia at the kitchen table, she watched Olivia's expression shift from confusion to something unreadable. "Some of my classmates saw us out to dinner, you know, that night we went out for burgers and, well, they kind of jumped to conclusions. Started spreading a rumor that we were involved."

Olivia's lips parted in shock. "Involved," she repeated, a clear question in her voice.

Harper looked down at her hands. "Somehow they found out I moved in with you after things went south with my mom and that didn't help matters."

"I see," Olivia said, leaning back in her chair. "Harper, this—this is a lot to take in. I never wanted to make you a target."

"You didn’t," Harper insisted. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I should have shut them down the moment they looked at us, but I didn’t. I never act when I know I should." Harper's voice cracked, both of them knowing that she was referring to Hannah, and that made it all the harder to bear. "But it wasn’t just rumor," Harper finally added, her voice so small that Olivia had almost not heard her.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I have feelings for you," Harper confessed, the words tumbling out before she could second guess them. "I have for a while. And I know it's complicated, with Hannah and everything, and I’m probably delusional, but there it is. I—"

"Stop," Olivia interrupted, holding up a hand. "I need a moment."

There had been no malice in her voice, no disgust, but Harper's chest tightened as the silence stretched between them.

At last, she spoke. "I don't know how to process this," Olivia admitted. "You were Hannah's friend. Then you became mine. And now you're telling me you've been feeling this way about me?"

Harper nodded, though her voice wavered when she spoke. "It's not something I planned, Olivia. It just happened. The more I got to know you, the more I felt it. From the moment you asked me inside from the rain, there was something about you that made me feel whole, loved."

Olivia's eyes softened slightly, though she still seemed lost in thought. "Actually, I remember the day you found me crying in the store," she said quietly. "You basically told me Andy was a fool for cheating on me, and that I deserved better. I didn't think much of it at the time, but maybe there was more to it than I realized."

"There was," Harper confirmed, "even then, though I didn’t fully realize it at the time either."

Olivia exhaled slowly, her gaze finally meeting Harper's. "I can't make any promises, Harper. This is uncharted territory for me. But I'll admit, you've been a source of comfort during one of the darkest times in my life. I know I feel love towards you. And maybe, someday, I could see us differently. Is that alright?"

"That’s more than I could ask for," Harper told her. "I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, and I definitely didn’t expect that this was going to be how, or when, I told you. We’ve needed each other, and I didn’t want my feelings to mess that up."

"They haven’t. Having you here has been so helpful, so healing in a way. Regardless of your feelings, or mine, I’ve been happy to have you here, Harper. And I hope you’ll stay while I figure things out."

"Of course, I will. I’ll stay as long as you need me."

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

Chapter Eleven <- 🩶 -> Chapter Thirteen

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @immyowndefender

Harper Cassidy: @megandaisy9, @boobear729, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @freshmoneyalmondathlete

[fuzzydetectivetaco]

The riordanverse makes no sense

We know from riordanverse that the gods are gods as in super powerful beings, so Apollo is the god of the sun, as in he is a god who can control the sun. The important thing to note is that the world doesn't need the gods - it runs just fine without them, because it's still under capital G Gods - and here we get metaphysical.

Now I'm going to go ahead and say that since the capital G Gods are metaphysical, and only affect the physical realm as one entity, I'm going to go and say that in effect, there's only one capital G God. And this God can control everything and there's no power higher than them.

Now the one hint we've gotten from canon is that an acceptable interpretation of God is Allah - the God who is ever-living, infinite, all-powerful, but most importantly, not physical. You can't pick up a sword and challenge Allah. Allah is not physical that you can slice him - he is, in essence, above the restrictions of physicality, and powerful enough to will you never born - or whatever the metaphysical equivalent of willing is.

Another thing we know about Allah is that he is fair and just, and that he will be judging every single person, whether he be Muslim or not.

But we're not talking about Allah. We're talking about God. But I'm going to say that since God is metaphysical, he's not brought into existence because people believed him - he was always there. So, similarly, how people perceive him does not change his true nature.

Which is complicated, since it is possible for capital G God to be an unjust power-hungry God, however given that once again God is metaphysical and has no need for power or money, and is not affected by animal instincts such as fear, amusement, greed, etc., that he is the epitome of what we humans consider good - which is to say, fair, just, etc.

All that leads me to conclude that for the purpose of this decision, God is like Allah but not homophobic, tied to one religion, etc.

Which is completely wrong in the scheme of how things work in the riordanverse, because each person is judged by what they believed. So the Egyptian gods judge the Egyptians, the Greek gods judge the Greeks, St. Peter the christians (ig), etc.

This division is unfair because let's take Hazel, for example. She sacrificed Elysium for her mom - by human standards of goodness, she should go to Elysium for that. But instead she goes to Asphodel because Hades is an asshole.

Similarly, people like Nero are allowed to roam without punishment because he's a god or something. Come to think of it most of the Olympians also deserve some time in god-hell.

You could bribe the judges of the afterlife if you believed in the Greek gods before Hades fixed the judging system.

Egyptian demigods go to the Egyptian afterlife despite not worshipping the Egyptian gods. In fact the entirety of Egyptian mythology is messed up.

And athiests just die. Which is just amazing. (Sarcastic)

So yeah, the riordanverse makes no sense, because God who can't be unjust is sponsoring unjust systems. This is the first reason, and if I'm procrastinating again I'll send the other reasons sometimes. Am I surprised? Not really. Rick really wanted to write a YA series and he used some duct tape to bind together universes that just can't bind.

Doesn't mean I'm not going to hyperanalyze it.

(all connections to real-life belief systems are for the purpose of amusement and so that I can argue my point only, and are not meant to insult any particular belief system. If you are uncomfortable with how close to real life this is, blame Rick, not me.)

[seasons-beatings]

Happy holidays, @spicywhumper!

As Lyra stepped out of the campus coffee shop, she was suddenly jolted, causing her to drop the latte she’d just bought. She instinctively fell into a protective stance before her brain caught up to what had happened. The pretty blonde woman who’d bumped into her was hovering closely, looking very apologetic.

“I’m so sorry! I totally wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

“Yep,” said Lyra, who was distracted by mourning her spilled coffee. She would need caffeine if she was going to go out on patrol that night as she’d planned.

“Can I make it up to you by buying you a new coffee?” the woman asked, “Or is there somewhere you need to be?”

Lyra’s first instinct was to make a polite excuse and refuse the offer of help, but she really would need the caffeine, and she couldn’t exactly afford a new drink from the campus shop. Reluctantly, she acquiesced.

Stepping back into the coffee shop, she gave the barista her order for the second time that day. Then she and the women sat down in a booth to wait.

“So, what’s your name?” Lyra asked.

“Oh! I’m so sorry; I completely forgot to introduce myself! I’m Anika. And what's your name?”

“Lyra,” said Lyra, beginning to fall into the easy rhythm of small talk. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What are you studying?”

“Oh, that’s probably because I live off campus,” Anika explained. “I’m studying to be a nurse.”

Lyra was prevented from responding by the barista calling her name, and from standing by Anika telling her she’d go get it.

“Do you want sugar and cream?”

“Yeah, one of each, but I really can get it myse-”

“Please, let me do it. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Lyra said, giving in and ignoring the blush she could feel on her cheeks. “Yay!” Anika said, getting the coffee from the counter and walking over to the cart that held sugar, straws, and the like. She turned away from Lyra to add to the coffee. Then, sitting back in her seat, she presented the drink to her with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Thanks!” Lyra sipped at the coffee, and, because neither of them seemed to have anywhere else to be, resumed the conversation. However, she was having a hard time focusing on the woman in front of her. Her brain was foggy, and her stomach and throat felt like they were being squeezed.

She held out as long as she could, hoping that Anika would soon announce that she had something else she needed to be doing. Unfortunately, the woman across from her seemed to have all the time in the world, meaning she would need to find a way to politely excuse herself from the situation.

Unfortunately, it seemed she had waited too long and polite wasn’t an option for her anymore. She was shivering despite the warm atmosphere of the café, and her vision was doing fun things such as doubling and blurring at the edges. “I’m sorry,” she told one of the three Anikas in front of her, “but I think I need to go.”

And with that, she promptly went — went unconscious, that is.

When Lyra awoke, she knew right away that something was wrong. Werewolf senses could be both a blessing and a curse, but at times like these, she was grateful that she was able to get a grip on her environment without opening her eyes. Okay. Her stomach churned and her throat felt tight, but those weren’t new developments. Her wrists and ankles seemed to be twisted tightly together. The crook of her left elbow ached. The surface she was lying on felt comfortably soft, but there were no pillows. The smell was unfamiliar, but somewhere in the same neighborhood as ammonia. She definitely wasn’t alone.

Carefully, she dared to open her eyes.

When she did, she was greeted with the startling sight of (a slightly blurry) Anika peering into her face. The woman smiled at her. “Hello, puppy.”

Lyra sucked in a wheezing breath and tried to scoot back, but soon realized what the pressure on her wrists and ankles was. Rope, binding them together. Fun. And the pain in her elbow? There was a pad of gauze there, taped down but not completely managing to hide the bruising underneath.

“What did you do?” she demanded, but the hoarseness of her voice undermined it a bit.

“I might have accidentally slipped a bit of aconite in your cup.” Anika giggled. “Whoopsies.”

“Why?” Lyra asked, because the how was glaringly obvious.

“Surely you’re aware of the price werewolf blood goes for on the black market,” she teased.

Lyra had a witty retort on the tip of her tongue. Really, she did. Unfortunately, the bile in the back of her throat managed to escape first. To add insult to injury, the coffee that was the source of all this trouble burned her throat as she retched it up. The rope prevented her from wiping her face, and the gagging didn’t stop, even when there wasn’t anything left to bring up.

It seemed wolfsbane didn’t agree with her. Wow. Who’d have thought.

She tried to glare at Anika, but the tears that had been forced into her eyes, the tears that she was unable to dry, must’ve made her look pretty pathetic.

Anika leaned forward to wipe the vomit from her face with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, puppy. I would never kill you. You’re much more valuable to me alive.”

——————————————————————————

[eur1ellefanatic]

OK so this is lowkey just dumping my midnight thoughts, so.... yeah.

I don't think my friends actually like me. I mean, I know they do, but... I just doubt it sometimes. My best friend doesn't want to hang out. WE haven't been anywhere since February. I keep saying, "let's go here," "let's go there," "can I come over," "do you want to come over," "this place is free if it's about the money," and she always makes excuses. Either her mom said no, or she doesn't have enough money, even when I offer to pay. I asked her to go to the movies last week. She said, "My mom said that she doesn't have enough money." I said, "I'll pay for you! It's cool." She said, "My mom said that I need my own money." LIKE WHAT??? look, that's not even that bad. I asked her to go to the pool in Mt apartment complex. She said she didn't have a bathing suit. I said, "I'll get you one!" She said, "Oh, no. You don't have to do that." I said, "Well, do you want to come over? My mom will be there. I promise it's safe." She said, "My mom doesn't trust me over there." Fine. That's fine. One time, I asked, "Can I come over there?" She said, "My mom needs to meet your mom first, she doesn't trust you guys yet." I suggested Chilli's so our moms could get to know each other, break the ice, yk? She fucking hung up on me, then called me back 2 hours later to talk about her TV show. My other friend just talks a lot. He never let's me speak. Never. He always interrupts me. And he makes everything about himself. I was telling him about the fact I was in foster care, and that I was probably going go go to my aunt in California who I've never even heard of, and that I was scared to be away from him and my other friends and my mom and my foster mom and everyone else I've ever cared about. He said, "My mom can adopt you!" And then burst out laughing. I said, "No, she can't, she had 6 kids excluding you." Then he said, "That's okay. You'll be fine. I got adopted when I was 5, and..." ht tolf me his entire life story, and suddenly, nobody was even remotely concerned about me anymore. Which is fine. I don't care anymore. I'm fucking done. I'm tired. Friendship shouldn't be this hard, or painful, and it shouldn't make me feel invisible. So I'm done.

I thought I was a lesbian for all my life. Boys are disgusting. Boys only use girls for sex. For their bodies. They are incapable of having meaningful relationships. They're sex-crazed neanderthals. Girls are better. Girls are hot. Girls are... amazing. But I recently realized that boys have personalities. Boys can respect women. Some boys are good people. I've also realized that I kind of like boys? It's complicated. I don't know what I feel. Attraction? I don't know. Maybe I just know when a boy is conventionally attractive, and that's that. But.... no. When I was 9 to when I was 10(4th grade), I was being $@'d by my 21 year old cousin. I still feel dirty when I think about it. I was a kid who developed early. I can't control that. I can't control that. I used to try and bind my chest with duct tape so I would be less noticeable. But it never worked. I just don't want breasts. I don't. I don't want to be a man, never, but I also don't want to be looked at by older guys. It makes me want to kill something. Or myself. Either one works. When I was 11, I had just gone into 6th grade, and this guy kept asking for my number. I didn't want to give it to him, but I eventually caved. He kept texting me about my chest. "Can I see them?" He asked. I said no. But he kept asking. He said I looked like I would do only fans because I had a big chest. I was 11. ELEVEN. I didn't do much of anything besides layer my sports bras and wear baggies clothes. I wanted to blend in like the rest of the people at school. I didn't want this. And then, one time, he literally just reached out and grabbed one. Full-on gr0ped. Squeezed. I burst into tears and slapped his hand away, and he just laughed at me. I blocked him, but he called from a different number. Blocked that one, too. But all that to say, there is no reason I should ever date a man. Men are evil. They all are. Even if they act nice, deep down, they are all like that. There must be something wrong with me. There is something wrong with me. Do I like anyone? I haven't actually ever had a crush on anyone before, so I just said I was lesbian because I definentally didn't like boys. But do I even like girls? I've never liked a girl either. What the hell am I? I don't really know who I am at all. Who am I? Who the fuck am I? How am I supposed to know other people if I don't know myself? I don't know who I am.

[xarrixii]

F/B Chapter_46 : "Ty Roy"

CW: crying, panicking, cops, brief suicide mention previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

/ / / / / | ---

“Little Roy!” Officer Sean Murphy exclaimed. “Welcome to the on-call experience. Lucky it was in a house, not so lucky for the fabrics. Your dad’s out on a car chase. Who’s this?”

“Oh, that’s,” Alph started.

“Urban,” he shook Murphy’s hand while Alph stepped to the other side of the yellow police tape. This looked more like a crime scene than an awakening gone wrong.

Murphy dawned one of those smirks that made Alph shoot a glare his way. “Murph, where’s Carmen and Jay?”

Electricity was shooting off the building, and Alph was fighting every urge to jump at the chance. An electrokinetic. They’d never had an electrokinetic awakening before. Since they’d started their apprenticeship, the station had let them tag along whenever a case seemed interesting, and by now everyone knew that mainly meant kinetics spiraling out of control.

Alph did not have a good track record—yet.

“Jay’s trying to get in and settle the static in his rubber, but Carmen got hit down. Strong little guy. I don’t really stand a chance in this situation, too much infrastructural damage to cause. I’ll keep Urban here company if you want to hop in.”

“Uh,” Alph looked back and threw their keys to Urban. “Did you wanna park the truck somewhere safer, Urb?”

“Yeah.” Urban gulped visibly. “Don’t use fire in there, Rai.”

Alph’s gaze snapped to the townhouse again.

This is it, they thought with a grin. Urban had already walked back to the truck behind them. Murphy was trying to find another rubber suit. This is the one. I can prove we don’t have to bind all of these kids.

They walked in without the rubber suit, hair standing on end as they got within a foot of the house’s front door. Murphy was yelling at Alph to get back.

Fire was sparking out of an outlet, and Alph waved it into nonexistence before climbing the stairs two at a time. They could feel pinpoints of energy hitting their bare hands when they spotted Jay trying to enter a room without getting shocked back.

“Kid, you’re gonna be O.K,” Jay insisted.

“No! No, I can’t!” The kid couldn’t have been much older than eight, tears streaming out of their eyes and dropping to the ground.

“What’s your name?” Alph prompted. Their limbs drooped awkwardly lower than they wanted and intended. The air tightened in static, and Alph made a virtually effortless attempt to flatten their hair back down.

Alph had never been so jealous of Jay’s tied back braids.

The kid shrunk back, “I’m gonna hurt you stop go away you need the⸺”

“I don’t need a suit,” Alph laughed. “This guy’s just a coward.”

“It’s protocol, Al.” Jay stopped Alph from moving any closer and Alph just gave him a look. Jay returned it just as easily from beyond the rubber, poking a hand inside the bedroom and yanking back seething.

Alph huffed and forced Jay’s arm back down. “Look, I’m fine, see? I’m just that cool.”

“No you’re gonna die you’re gonna die I’m gonna kill you!” The boy continued to cry into the air, falling to shaking knees as the electricity pulsed through the air in a large wave.

Alph ended up just pushing Jay behind them. Jay’s memory of a sparring match must’ve influenced his lack of interference. “Okay. And?”

“And⸺ and you’ll⸺”

“Hey. Mr. Rubber over here is Jayvon. Did he tell you that? He hates it when I tell people that. Jayvon.”

The kid mumbled something incoherent, and then, “Ty.”

“That your name?” Alph crouches down just outside the door’s frame. “That’s T-Y? I knew a guy with that name in middle school, could never have a sleepover without him. He was crazy cool.” They stick the tip of their finger past the frame. “What do you wanna be like?”

“I—I wanna be like Mom.”

“What’s your mom like, Ty?” Alph’s entire hand slid past what had been a barrier, and they slowly made their way into the room.

Ty crumpled further into the floor. “She, she would give money to the homeless. And—she always had a smile on her face. She would, would hug anyone who needed a hug.”

“Would you like a hug?” Alph offered, well into the room and crouching down next to Ty.

The kid practically climbed on top of Alph, sobbing into their shoulder as electricity crackled down their muscles. Hands gripped onto Alph’s jacket as tight as they could.

Despite their arms wanting to stay still, Alph forced them into a tight hug with Ty. They let Ty hold on for an indescribable amount of time.

Alph had never gotten this far.

“This electricity thing ain’t so bad, is it?” Alph laughed. Their body felt like it was shutting down. “I’m pretty sure electrokinetics can get super fast. You think that sounds cool? Goin’ real fast?”

Ty didn’t answer, but his grip on Alph slacked and then the kid pulled off.

“I hurt you,” Ty’s voice wavered.

“Remember, I’m super cool. I’m okay.” Alph held out a fist with strained movement. Ty hesitantly bumped it.

Ty stared up at Jay, who had entered the room but stayed on the side. Alph glanced back to see a pair of questioning yet approving eyes, and then a quirked lip. Jay’s focus shifted to Ty when he saw Alph watching.

“I—I don’t know how to,” Ty inhaled sharply, and a wave of static sent Alph near reeling from proximity. “How do I get rid of it? How⸺”

Jay pulled Alph back as another wave came through. Whispered something about the reasons they needed the rubber suits as Alph’s ears rang. Alph’s next mostly-conscious thought was realizing Jay had bound Ty’s hands and was now making effort to comfort him.

There was an indescribable amount of anger there that Alph shoved and shoved back down where it came from to keep a safe presence for this kid. For Ty. Alph had barely known him for a few minutes.

And he was being sentenced.

It took a lot to walk back to Ty and not melt the metal on his hands away. Instead, Alph smiled. “Want a piggy-back ride?”

That was how Alph and Ty came out of the house followed by Jay. Alph’s expression had dropped as soon as Ty couldn’t see it. Murphy looked proud, Jay thankful, and Urban…

He seemed like he’d rather retch before turning his head down to the street.

Alph fixed their expression. “See the funny-looking old guy? That’s Murph. He’s got a kinetic too. Murph’s awakening ended up hurting a few people too, but everyone turned out alright, and look at him now.” Ty’s frown was evident when Alph looked up at the child on their shoulders.

“What about the other lady that was in the house?” Ty was quiet, resting his metal-encased hands on Alph’s wild hair.

“She’ll be alright. Just resting.”

Alph stopped in front of where the police tape ended. Ty’s weight shifted on their shoulders, and Urban stared up again. His entire posture softened and he strolled up, holding two outstretched fists together high enough for Ty to reach and weakly bump back.

“Why are you doing it like that…?” Ty leaned forward a little.

“Well it’s not fair if you’re the only one who gets to use both, now is it?” Urban’s hands dropped, suddenly unsure of himself.

Ty squinted hard at Urban before telling Alph to let him down.

Alph took the chance to let Urban handle it to go talk to Jay and Murphy. Their body shook with words they wanted to say, words they wanted to hurt. The station knew a lot of them by now, and Murphy sighed openly.

“Where’s his mom?” Alph asked first. No one else was around.

“The kid’s name is Ty Leman,” Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose and let out another long sigh. “His mom commit suicide two years ago and his dad gave him up to foster care shortly after. He’s been shifting around from house to house. His current foster parents want nothing to do with an untrained kinetic running around, so they conveniently found an excuse to leave the area.”

Jay huffed. “Lots of structure here, huh?”

Suicide. Alph’s brain dawdled on the word, and they tried to peek back at Urban and Ty as subtly as possible.

“Everyone this kid ever knew abandoned him. I’m surprised you two got him out so calmly what with all that electricity in the air.” Murphy cocked his head at Alph.

“We could’ve done without the hand binders, just a little more time. That was all I needed,” Alph couldn’t make themself look at Jay. Their gaze landed somewhere on the adjacent townhouse building.

“You were about to pass out, Al.” It was Jay’s turn to sigh. “And if that had happened, the kid would’ve freaked out all over again and we’d have had a net zero. I had to do something.”

Alph made a frustrated gurgle.

“We can probably let him out of the kinetic handcuffs,” Murphy put a hand on Alph’s shoulder. “He’s not a PY, so it wouldn’t be against protocol. As long as he can put the electrokinesis away himself, we shouldn’t have to keep him like a criminal.”

It shouldn’t be about what kinetic he has. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

Ty’s first reaction when Alph came over with the key was to flex his hands. Then his eyes awkwardly darted in every direction, like he didn’t know what to do. Alph snickered.

“We’ve called the check-up team—” Alph hated to call it that “—and now we just have to wait for them to show up. Sound good?”

Ty nodded.

Alph stuck one hand in their pocket and got out their phone with the other to start furiously texting their dad. The old man didn’t reply, as expected in a car chase, but it still made Alph unreasonably infuriated.

Urban looked between Alph and Ty before smiling. “You know what?”

Ty made a note of interest.

“This might be jumping a gun,” Urban laughed, “but look at this.”

He took out his lighter and made a path of separate, stagnant dots up into the sky that made a pattern. Then he took the flame kept in the lighter and touched it to the closest dot. Fire shot between each little spark, and Ty’s eyes lit up. “How’d you do that?”

“You can do it too,” Urban sat down in the grass. “Sometimes I’ll do it this way, when I don’t feel like I have to pretend.” He scrunched his face a little before redirecting what he was talking about, “I guess, well, you know how lightning hits the ground in a funky jagged pattern?”

“Yeah.” Ty sat down too.

“Do you know why it does that?” Urban snapped the lighter shut and leaned in toward Ty. Ty eagerly shook his head no. “It seems pretty random, but it actually creates a path in the air that’s super conductive. If it didn’t, there’d just be a bunch of unfocused energy flying around. That’s how electrokinesis works.”

Ty gave off a smile, slowly.

Urban clicked the lighter back open, gesturing off toward the townhouse. “They build a path in the air,” he said while demonstrating live, “and then they shoot through that path.”

The fire blinked back to the lighter.

“I want to try⸺” Ty exclaimed, then crumpled up again. “But what if I can’t get rid of it once I, I make it?”

“Mmm,” Urban made a point to look like that was a stupid question, head cocking back with his eyes and landing back into leaning forward. “You get to see a tiny explosion.”

That clearly made a bizarre lack of sense to Ty, but he scooted up closer to Urban. “Can you show me how to do it again?”

In five minutes, Ty was summoning, directing, and dispersing his own electricity, bubbling around the grass while Urban leaned his head on a raised leg and softly grinned to himself.

Alph crouched down just slightly behind him and watched Ty run around with the newfound ability to shoot lightning out of his fingertips at will.

“What’d you mean by pretend?” Alph asked.

“It’s how I summoned and directed fire before rehab.” Urban’s brows furrowed. “They tried to train it out of me, but it’s still my instinct style when I lose control.”

Alph put a hand around Urban’s arm and squeezed.

Flame ticked off Alph’s body, fading out before it could go very far, but obviously still there. “Dad, we can’t just leave him in the system. That⸺ We can’t just abandon this kid.”

“I said no, Al.” Garry, Alph’s dad, rubbed a hand across his face at the kitchen island. “I was barely home for you as is, and adoption gets way too complicated with kinetic kids. I can’t even guarantee we won’t just go to sleep and not wake up because of an uncontrolled electricity burnoff.”

“You didn’t have a problem raising me,” Alph argued.

“That’s because as soon as I told your mother you’d awakened she had enrolled you in an early learning program. This kid is completely untrained.”

Alph sucked in an ugly breath.

“I didn’t mean⸺” Garry sighed and grumbled something unintelligible. “Al, you were, I don’t know. Some miracle. I’m really fucking shit at this whole parenting thing, and I don’t want to fuck up and ruin a kid’s life.”

There were a few seconds where the only sound was the clock on the wall ticking. Garry limply set his head flat in his hand. Alph’s fire died out and they favored to look out the windows rather than at their dad. “Foster care’s going to drag him through the dirt.”

“I know you, you want to help,” Garry said exasperatedly. “But I—I can’t, Al.”

Everyone this kid ever knew abandoned him.

Alph couldn’t get Ty’s grin out of their head, the way he lit up when Urban taught him how being an EK worked.

Not Alph.

They paced to their bedroom and locked the door behind them, sitting down on the bed surrounded by clutter Alph didn’t want to pick up. Burnt sections of carpet from when Alph got mad about being grounded. The thought fueled Alph to whip out their phone and send their mother the first text exchanged between them since Alph had used their first favor a few years ago.

can i cash in another one of those favors?

The text had been followed by a phone call ten minutes later, and within the week Ty was grinning from ear to ear on floor thirty-four of a new building with a permanent home inside.

next chapter | masterlist

/ / / / / | --- missing a content warning? let me know

gonna maybe try to get a monday thing going. no promises.

taglist (ask to go on or off): @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

[delilahprofitt]

Assignment anon. I'm shy 👉👈 lol. Looking forward to 2nd fic!

-A nervous duck going for a handful of cheerios is the perfect way to describe that kiss lol. I also like the uncomfortable shifting and loud awkward sniff when he meets Johnnie in the diner a second time. The way he leans down super far to sip his coffee too

-The "NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" is so funny. Imagining myself as the person who heard that coming through the walls and complained

-I know Frank is supposed to be tough or whatever but I wish we could've gotten a few tears while destroying the room. Not actual crying but just wet shiny eyes from the anger and distress. I mean he did suddenly wake up with tits he didn't ask for and his dick gone

-I think another good part of the accent is when he calls Johnnie and goes "Ya wanna meet for a CAWFEE?" There was serious emphasis there

-Frank is 100% not the type of guy to wear a real binder (idk maybe somebody could convince him to wear the kind that look like undershirts) but why does he have to do the sloppiest binding job known to man with that tape. Why not use ace bandages at LEAST

-He slipped into acting like he was willing to show creep assistant his rack too easily. I really needed him to seem more awkward. You know he's a shitty actor

-There should have been more scenes of people not recognizing him or generally being all ummm...

-What year is supposed to be if they're using flip phones and pay phones? It doesn't feel y2k

-I cannot blame the curly haired doc for seeming like he hated his life when he had to listen to Doc Jane ramble

that's okay anon i'm grateful for you anyway <3

since yesterday i've had 1000 more thoughts about this movie. i had to save this as a draft and switch to computer 'cause my thumbs started aching

the breast grope/fingering/darth vader NOOOO sequence is honestly the best part of the whole thing. egregious she didn't get an oscar nom but the academy snubbed girlfight too so what can you expect, really

the accent is consistently rough but there's not a single pronunciation as ridiculous as the way katarin bloodrayne says "my FAHthuh" so i'll let it go. i just commented this somewhere else but i think a director thinking mrod is a good choice for convincing accent work is a strong indicator that some other questionable choices will be made

the tape made me wince. that skin is already stretched THIN. he's gonna rip his nipples off. also i think it's kind of funny that because they were working with mrod's real breasts it looks like the doctor really exercised restraint. yeah maybe it was more conducive to her experiment to give him something realistic but if i were her i'd be giving frank fat fucking tits just for the hell of it

yes there was WILD vacillation between him being supremely awkward with johnnie and then seeming very chill about being a chick in literally every other situation. i'm glad this movie exists just because i think it proves that maybe portraying convincing sexual chemistry is just not mrod's strong suit no matter who she's playing against and it's not just a guy thing. except when she rested her forehead against johnnie's. that was cute

related: i would love to know what the fuck frank said to johnnie the first time they met considering he seemed to think "i want to take off your clothes" was a compelling offer

also related: i guess that first scene with johnnie was supposed to establish frank as some kind of suave womanizer but i CANNOT imagine he was that great at sex before. when johnnie tells him that she prefers being eaten out or whatever to just having that thing rammed into her it's going to knock his fucking socks off. i'm going to write that into the next fic actually

no idea when it comes to the year. it doesn't look like 2016. i thought maybe they were using flip phones for crime reasons but in my head it's maybe like 2009

anyway: to me the core problem with the plot is that it's not clear what the point even is of the whole revenge spree!! i understand killing honest john and jin tao but what the fuck did earl and joe and vladimir and the nicaraguans whose names i can't remember have to do with anything? they had no part in actually getting frank to the doctor. and frank can't have been that opposed to dogfighting or pimping or whatever because he was working for those guys! killing them just to get back at honest john barely makes any sense either because it's not like we saw them all having a family dinner or something. when frank finally confronted him, john didn't seem cut up at all! if the plan was to cripple him financially or intimidate him i don't think it achieved shit because she straight-up killed him like a week later and also i can't imagine that the result of just murdering the top brass was that all the girls and dogs got to go free. i'm not saying she can't just be acting irrationally but that's not how a movie is supposed to work. we're supposed to have some reason to care

(as a side note i feel like that syndicate should have consolidated its operations. i'm imagining one of those problems where you have a prostitute, a machine gun, and a pitbull on one side of a river and you can only fit two of them in your boat or whatever. and what the fuck even was that "dry goods store." why were we suddenly in a spaghetti western?? i guess i find it vaguely plausible that they have those in san francisco but in that case it couldn't just operate as a front. he would actually have to be selling organic granola and shit)

okay i know you didn't ask, but here's how i would fix all of that. first, at the start, frank should ONLY be trying to kill honest john and the doctor. second, i think johnnie actually should be an ex-prostitute! i'm not saying it would be the greatest most realistic portrayal of sex trafficking, but i think it would make a lot of narrative sense. she can still be a nurse; frank just has to find out that in the past, she was pimped out by one of the guys under earl. then we would get to see frank realize that he's not honest john's only victim AND he would have an actual reason to start with earl! and then once he kills earl he can think critically and come to the conclusion that every arm of this gang is hurting people and THEN he can decide to pick off the leaders one-by-one. obviously he would understand that in the abstract because he's not a moron, but if johnnie's the first person he's ever really cared about (which is what i think they're trying to imply with the ward-of-the-state thing), it would make it tangible for him. right now i think the dog is kind of clumsily serving that function, but by the time frank gets the dog he's already killed four people. also for ~parallels~ he could "rescue" johnnie from earl (symbolically, through love and sexual healing or whatever), a gun from the nicaraguans, and pancho from vladimir. then he could use that gun to commit all subsequent murders, get his revenge as originally planned on honest john and the doctor, ride off into the sunset with johnnie and the dog, and in that way build a new life from the results of all this killing. then it would feel like it was all building to something. i'm not a scriptwriter or anything but i think that would be a much better movie

(also being a sex trafficking victim would help explain why johnnie needed money so desperately. san francisco is expensive but i'm not convinced that nurses living in studio apartments must resort to crime)

and i would just cut joe entirely. i don't know why the fuck joe is even there. i would also shorten the doctor's monologues by at least a hundred percent and replace that lost time with scenes of frank and johnnie in bed together

christ that was a lot. anyway send me any thoughts you have about this dumb movie anytime <3 <3

[starksbabie]

The Ink That Binds Us - Chapter 2

Prev | Next

Summary: Gator knows something you don't. Now the only question is what will he do with this information?

Tags/Warnings: Soulmates AU, A/B/O, eventual smut, 18+ mdni, mentioned unwanted touching, soulmates have matching tattoos, Gator Tillman (he’s his own warning).

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you to @babyjakes for making me custom dividers even though you know nothing about Fargo, and nothing about Gator. You're the best. ILY!

You are his soulmate.

His mouth is dry as he stares at his tattoo on your skin. He clears his throat and looks back at your face breathing a sigh of relief when you don’t seem to have noticed his look of realization.

“Please, Gator. I didn’t know what to do.”

You lead him into the kitchen and his eyes get a little wide when he sees the water on the floor. He picks up a trace of distress in your scent as you take in the scene in front of you.

“Okay, okay baby. We’ll fix it. Don’cha worry your pretty little head.” The term of endearment rolls off his tongue almost without permission.

He grabs his tools, pushes his sleeves up his forearms, and immediately lays down sliding under the sink and cutting off the main water supply. He asks for a bucket to drain your sink trap before he replaces the plumber's tape and tightens the connectors with a wrench.

You can’t help but watch as his muscles flex through his long-sleeved shirt. You feel something in the pit of your stomach. ‘Alpha is caring for us’ your omega hindbrain says, but you push that thought down, back where it came from.

He grabs one of the towels and dries himself off and smiles dumping the bucket to make sure it doesn’t leak before turning the water supply back on.

“There you go. All fixed.” He stands and pushes his hair back out of his face.

Watching as you immediately bend over and start cleaning up, giving him an amazing view of your ass as you collect the wet towels from the floor.

“What do I owe you?” You ask, straightening up and balancing the laundry basket on your hip.

Gator steps closer to you, reveling in your scent now that your blockers are wearing off. His large hand reaches out and gently settles on your hip.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

His palm is warm through your clothes, your cheeks, and even the tips of your ears heat at his suggestion.

You step back out of his range and his hand falls back to his side as he watches your face intently.

“Are you hungry? I made dinner.” You anxiously run your hand over your hair, smoothing it down, avoiding his intense gaze.

He smirks as his alpha preens.

“Dinner sounds lovely, little omega.”

You quickly reheat the chicken and veggies you had made for yourself and serve him first, something else that makes his alpha glow with pride.

‘Good omega, she will be a good little wife, caring for us, and our pups.’ Gator smiles crookedly as his inner alpha purrs, and you set the plate in front of him. He digs in immediately, moaning at the taste.

“This is amazing. You made this?” He says, around a mouthful of food.

You grimace a little at his manners before nodding.

“My grandmother taught me to cook when I was young. I’ve always loved it.”

You sit across from him and start to eat your dinner, watching as he devours his.

“Hungry, Gator?”

He laughs.

“I don’t often get home-cooked meals. I eat at the diner more than anywhere else. And my dad’s omega, Karen? Well… let’s just say he didn’t mate her because she can cook.”

That gives you pause.

“Your dad’s omega..?” You ask cautiously.

“Yeah?”

He looks at you as he finishes up his dinner and reaches into his pocket pulling out his vape. He inhales deeply before slowly letting out a long exhale of sweet-smelling smoke.

“She’s not your mom?”

“No.”

He offers no more information so you don’t press him. Instead, you stand and immediately start to clean up the kitchen, as Gator watches.

Once you’re finished he stands and you turn to face him.

“I have to work early tomorrow…” you say, gently rocking on the balls of your feet.

He nods and grabs his tool bag off the floor, you can’t help but focus on his hands as they grip the handle.

He smiles, catching your gaze on him.

“See something you like?”

Your gaze snaps up to his honey-colored eyes, crinkled up in a smile.

“No... I mean, yes… I mean…” you make a soft noise that has Gator swelling with pride.

He walks towards the door and pauses in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“Thank you again,” You smile up at him “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

He leans in closer, inhaling your sweet floral scent, “Anything for you, Blossom.”

You gasp softly at the intimacy of the pet name.

He lets out a soft chuckle before softly patting the doorframe and stepping out onto the porch.

You wait until he climbs into his truck before you shut and lock the door, leaning back against it and closing your eyes. What is this alpha doing to you?

The next morning, you stretch out in your nest, humming as your joints pop and crack. You get up and get ready for work before, you head down to the kitchen and quickly pack up the leftovers from last night.

You head to work, and there’s an extra little bounce in your step as you take orders and fill coffee cups.

As soon as your morning shift is over you start your trek over to the sheriff’s office. You skip up the steps letting yourself in and stopping at the reception desk.

“I’m looking for-“

Suddenly you feel a little embarrassed by your actions, but there’s no backing out now. Especially not with the look the receptionist is giving you.

“I’m looking for Deputy Tillman.”

She nods and points you in the right direction, “third door on the left. Just before the end of the hall.”

You head down hall in the direction you’d been told, stopping in front of the door with his name on the glass. You stop and knock on the door before taking a step back.

“What do you want?” You hear his voice snap before the door is flung open and you jump back clutching the lunch you had packed to your chest.

“Blossom? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” He looks you up and down and checks you for injuries before looking down the hall and pulling you into his office.

You tense up under his touch, still clinging to the lunch bag.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just… I brought you lunch.”

You glance down at the offering now feeling foolish.

He stops and looks down at the lunchbox in your hands.

“That’s for me?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow up as his inner alpha begins to preen. ‘Our omega is caring for us. Good little wife.’

You nod and thrust your hands out to him, his finger hooking under your chin to lift your gaze to meet his.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, Blossom.”

“I know, I wanted to,” Your voice comes out softer than you’d intended, “I liked cooking for you.”

“Yea Omega? You liked cooking for me?” Gator smirks and steps into your space taking the lunch box from your hands, “You’ll make such a good little wife someday, hmm?”

His thumb gently grips your chin as he slowly leans in, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Gator..?” You look into his eyes searching for something.

He slowly seals his lips over yours, his soft lips stealing your breath as your heart beats wildly in your chest. He smirks softly against your lips wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him, as he releases your chin and his hand moves to cradle your jaw and the back of your head.

When you break the kiss Gator rests his forehead against yours, looking at you, watching your face for your reaction.

You breathe heavily, your eyes closed as you revel in his scent.

“I can hear your heart beating, little omega…” he whispers into the space between you.

You smile softly and open your eyes looking up at him.

“I… I’ve never… I’m waiting for my alpha.” You whisper back.

He captures your lips again, groaning against your lips at the idea that he’s the first and only alpha to have ever held you like this.

You melt into him, slick beginning to drip from your center. You pull yourself away and gasp, looking up at him, no one has ever had this kind of effect on you.

“Gator…” you pant, your hands clutching into fists at your sides as you try to calm yourself.

He smirks and kisses your forehead gently, knowing he has to play his cards just right.

“Thank you, Blossom. Lunch is perfect.”

You chirp softly at his praise, and he smiles pulling you back closer to his desk. He sits in his chair pulling out the food you’d brought for him.

“Looks delicious.”

He digs in and you jump up, sitting on his desk, telling him all about your morning, not even realizing his free hand is holding on to your calf, softly squeezing.

He finishes eating, and you immediately gather your Tupperware and repack the bag. There’s a loud bang on the door before it’s being thrown open.

You jump as Sheriff Roy storms into the office.

“You forget you’re at work son? I’ve been calling you for 20 minutes.”

“Sorry, I was eating.”

Gator stands up, and helps you off his desk his arm protectively around you, as you shrink in on yourself a bit.

“Who’s this? You don’t have time for distractions. There’s work to be done.” Roy says, his hand resting on his holster.

Gator feels you tense up against him and has to hold back the growl from his inner alpha. The urge to protect you bubbling up from within.

“This is Y/N. She brought me lunch after I fixed the sink at her place last night. Just a little thank you.”

“Well aren’t you a good little omega.” Roy says, as he looks you up and down.

Gator gently lifts your chin and looks at you, “Let me walk you out okay, Blossom?”

You nod and hold onto the lunch bag tightly, keeping tight to Gator as he walks you past Roy walking towards his office door.

“Nice to see you again, Sheriff.” You glance up at Roy as you pass him, before looking back down as Gator escorts you to the front of the station.

“Did you walk here?” He looks around for an unfamiliar car, frowning at you when he doesn’t see one.

You nod and gently kick a little pebble on the ground with the toe of your shoe, knowing he’s going to be upset after he had insisted on driving you home the night before.

“Blossom. You need to be careful. Call me, and I’ll come get you. Okay? Don’t you have a car?” He softly rubs his hand over your arm, right where his tattoo marks your skin.

You chew your lip and he grabs your chin. He rolls his thumb over your plush lower lip pulling it from between your teeth.

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry…” you look up at him and he smiles.

“Good omega.” His alpha preens at how obedient you are.

“I do have a car but, it’s broken and I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“My sweet little omega. That’s all you had to say. I’ll swing by after work and take a look. Okay?”

He leans in to capture your lips once again, only to be thwarted by the booming voice of his father coming down the steps behind him.

“Gator! Let’s go! We got a call.” Roy doesn’t wait for his son as he swings up into his truck.

Gator presses a quick kiss to your unsuspecting lips before turning and running back to his father’s Bronco. He hops into the passenger seat and they peel out of the parking lot. After the dust and gravel settle, you turn and begin your trek home.

“She’s a pretty omega son. Isn’t she from the diner?” Roy glances at his son as turns the truck down a dirt road.

Gator looks over at his father a little perplexed by the question, Roy’d never really taken an interest in anyone Gator’s gone out with.

“Yeah, she’s a waitress.” Gator tucks some dip into his lip before tucking the canister back into his pocket.

“You know son, we could find you a nice girl at the church. You don’t have to go slumming around with some random omega from who knows where.” Roy says, staring at the road in front of him.

“She’s not just some random omega. She’s mine. She’s got my tattoo…” Gator works hard to control the anger rising up in him, looking at his father as he pieces together that information.

“She’s your soulmate? How long have you known?” Roy says as he takes another turn.

“Found out last night when I went over to fix her sink. I saw the tattoo and I knew.”

“And she’s not wearing your mark on her neck this morning, why?” Roy looks at his son, a frown etched into his features.

“It wasn’t the right time. She’s a little timid, I’m not trying to scare her off. I want her to come to me. To want me.” He smirks, adjusting the cap on his head.

Roy lets out a humorless chuckle before knocking the cap off his son’s head.

“You’re an alpha. Act like it. You take what is yours. She should be wearing your mark and she and Karen should be together planning a bonding ceremony. None of this pansy shit.” Roy parks the truck and looks at his son.

Gator opens his mouth to say something in his defense but his father cuts him off.

“Let’s get this done, so you can go and actually make me proud.”

You’re waiting in the living room, dinner keeping warm in the oven when you hear a truck pull up outside. You feel butterflies fluttering in your belly in a way you’ve never felt before as you skip over to your front door. You wait for Gator to knock, not wanting to appear too eager.

As soon as his knuckles rap on your door you’re pulling it open, but the sight of him makes your heart feel like ice and sink into the pit of your stomach.

Gator is sporting a fresh black eye. His lower lip, the one that had been pressed to yours only hours earlier, is now swollen and split.

Worse he’s holding his arm protectively to his chest. You know it’s injured as well.

“Oh my goodness! Gator… what happened?” You very carefully grab his uninjured hand and pull him into your home closing the door behind him.

“Perp got the jump on me…”

You lead him to the bathroom and get him seated on the edge of the tub.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” You say, your voice is soft, trying to hide how shaken you feel.

You grab your first-aid kit from under the sink and get to work. Wetting some gauze to clean his lip and chin working as gently as you can. You pop an ice pack and wrap it in a towel for him to hold against his swollen eye. Your hands work diligently as you care for him.

Gator isn’t used to soft hands. His wounded pride at letting you see him like this eased some by your patient treatment of him. His alpha, tucked away at the back of his mind perks a little as he’s once again surrounded by your scent. ‘Our omega cares.’

He isn’t thinking clearly as you gently remove his jacket, to get a better look at his injured shoulder.

The last thing you expect to see is your same tattoo emblazoned, plain as day in the same spot on Gator’s right bicep.

You freeze you thought your heart had sunk earlier when you’d first seen him on your doorstep, but that’s nothing compared to what you’re feeling right now.

“What’s that..?” Your eyes are locked onto the tattoo, and that’s when Gator snaps out of it.

“Oh shit! Blossom. About that. I was going to tell you-“

“So you did know. You knew, and you didn’t tell me. You just thought it was funny to play around with my feelings?” You whisper, tears forming along your lash line.

“No! No, I swear.” His voice is stronger, pleading for you to listen to him, to understand.

He drops the ice pack and reaches for you, but you step back out of his reach.

“Get out of my house.”

“Blossom you can’t be serious. I was going to tell you. I-“

“I said, Get out of my house.” Your voice is stronger the second time you say it.

Gator looks at you and snatches his coat up.

“Fine! Who needs an omega like you anyways?”

He storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him, hard enough to make the glass in the window panes rattle.

You look down at the blood-soaked gauze on the floor before sinking down and hugging your knees, surrounded by the crimson-colored squares.

He lied. Your alpha not only had marked your body with the most hideous image you could imagine, but then once he had known about you, he lied.

“What did I do wrong? I try to be a good omega. It’s just not enough.” You look up at the ceiling, your head resting against the wall as you ask the universe.

“Why? Why? Why?”

A/N: I promise this isn't the end for these two. I've got big things coming.

Prev | Next

[gayvorestories]

Very long. It is as much vore fic as it is revenge fantasy. Skip the first third if you're just here to beat your meat and don't feel like reading too much (no judgement, I get it)

M/M vore, digestion, graphic sex scene, humiliation

Officer Jackson was woken up abruptly by being jerked forward by his wrists. As his eyes adjusted to the dim room, he realized he had right handcuffs and duct tape binding his hands, and that his legs were so tightly bound with rope he couldn't even open his thighs. The handcuffs were clipped to a long chain in the middle, a detail he noticed just before the chain was violently yanked forward again, slamming his ribs into the table.

"You awake now?" a voice said at the other end of the room.

"Wh. What?"

The chain pulled him forward again, and Jackson cried out as his ribs hit the table. "You awake now?" The voice said again, mocking him.

"Where am I? What the fuck," Jackson started.

"That doesn't matter. I'm going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer them."

"Fuck y-"

Jackson was cut short as he was pulled forward more violently than before, this time gasping as the air was knocked out of him.

"Is your badge number 10-920165?"

Jackson wheezed and caught his breath, dazed and confused. "Yes," he said angrily. "You can't fucking do this to me I'm-"

"A cop. Yeah, I know, I asked for your badge number dipshit, the thought crossed my mind."

Jackson squinted, trying to make out the face of the person across the table. He made out a silhouette, who then reached forward to turn on a light. He was wearing oversized visor sunglasses and a cloth that obscured everything else about his head other than his mouth. The only defining feature was a stubbly beard and a smile Jackson could only describe as, "malicious."

"April 1, 2022, you arrested a woman named... Sheila Hines for loitering while waiting for an Uber. Yes or no?"

"Am I on fucking trial here? Fuck you, I'm not playing this fucking game."

Jackson was pulled forward much father than before, the cuffs cutting into his wrists as he was dragged halfway across the table. The man put the chain on a hook under the table, holding him in place. His eyes widened as he watched the man at the other end of the table stand up. In better lighting Jackson realized he was absolutely massive.

He picked up a pair of boltcutters and set them next to Jackson's hands on the table. He cupped Jackson's face, which was pressed against the table, and whispered in his ear. "You're gonna 'play the fucking game' or I'm gonna cut those off, one by one, and make you eat them like a good little piggy. Don't fuck with me pigboy, I can make this so much worse for you."

Jackson swallowed and said nothing, and the man smiled while stroking his face with his thumb. "Good man. Let's keep going."

He crossed the room, sat back down, and continued, "Sheila Hines, did you do that?"

"Yes," Jackson said as the man unhooked the chain and allowed him to sit again.

"She lost her job. And then her apartment. Did you know that?"

Jackson looked down at the table, uneasy. "No, I didn't."

"Jeremy Coleman, June 12 2022, you tased him immediately after arriving and exiting your vehicle for..." the man frowned, "having a flyswatter in his hand."

"You don't understan-" Jackson started. The man at the end of the table held up the chain threateningly and he stopped. He sat silently for several seconds before looking down at the table. "Yes," he said reluctantly.

"He had to get a pacemaker put in last year. Something about his heart going out of rhythm frequently." The man continued to frown. "Pure coincidence, I'm sure," he said, barely concealing his rage.

They continued the list for several minutes, Jackson barely lifting his eyes from the table as a long list of grievances was laid out, each time being told how his petty enforcement and overreactions had carved a path of ruin. When the man set the paper down, Jackson sat silently, staring downwards.

"November 12, 2023," the man started. Jackson winced, he knew what was coming, "ten thousand dollars seized as civil forfeiture on an investigation that turned up nothing." The man paused as a knot formed in Jackson's stomach. "Where is the money, officer?"

Jackson did not respond.

The man slide a picture across the table of Jackson. It was one he had posted online himself, sipping a drink in Hawaii over Christmas.

"You and I both know you don't get paid enough to afford that trip."

"I'm sorry."

The man pulled the chain hard, pinning Jackson to the table. "That's not good enough."

"Please don't hurt me," Jackson said, the pain in his ribs throbbing.

"I'm not going to," the man said, leaning over Jackson's head, "I don't hurt people like you do." He released the chain and Jackson retreated to the chair.

"My buddy though, he doesn't share my... reservations," the man said smiling.

Another man stepped forward into the light. Jackson hadn't seen him before, but now that he could he couldn't believed he'd missed him. He was shorter than the other man, and his chubby stomach was turning his black tshirt into a crop top. He was wearing the same face-obscuring getup, the only part of him exposed being his mouth and a dark patch of hair on his chin.

As he approached the end of the table, the larger man stepped behind him and put his arms around the smaller man's shoulders, giving his belly a pat. "You can call him guts."

Jackson looked at the two men, confused. "Guts?"

"Yeah, we call him that sometimes," the bigger man said. He lifted the smaller man's belly, nudged him to take a step closer to the table, and set his belly on the smooth surface, "ain't that right big man?"

The smaller man smiled and rubbed his belly. He let out a long, low belch and something solid came flying out of his mouth. It bounced down the table and landed in front of Jackson.

He looked at it and struggled to process what he was seeing. It was a police badge, the colors stripped off and the metal slightly corroded, but he could make out the name and number engraved on the surface. His heart dropped as he realized this badge belonged to an officer they all had assuming quit and jumped town.

"Wh... what... what the fuck..."

"Guts is a hungry boy," the larger man said, leaning his head on the smaller man's as he smiled wide. As he rubbed the smaller man's belly, it gave a content gurgle. He leaned into the other man's ear and pretend-whispered so Jackson could hear, "are you hungry baby?"

The smaller man nodded his head and the larger man grabbed the end of the chain.

"Officer 10-920165, I'm placing you under citizen's arrest," the larger man said the other laughed. He placed the end of the chain in the smaller man's mouth and he gave a brief swallow. "You will be detained without bond."

The smaller man gave a few swallows, dragging the slack in the chain down his throat.

"What the fuck, what the FUCK, you can't do this!" Jackson shouted.

"Officer, these walls are soundproof. Anything you say can and will be heard by fucking nobody."

The smaller man laughed and gave a few swallows, pulling Jackson's arms forward. He tried to pull back but the man's throat was like iron. On the next swallow he felt his chest against the table as he was slowly pulled in.

"No, no, NO, STOP!" Jackson screamed.

The smaller man kept swallowing as Jackson was pulled onto the table, inch by inch, until he was completely on top of it. His legs were so tightly bound he couldn't even separate his feet, but he still tried to struggle.

"Please don't do this, I'll do anything! I'm so sorry for what I've done, please!"

The larger man shook his head and frowned, "No can do I'm afraid." He patted the smaller man's stomach as he swallowed another foot of chain. "Once he has his heart set on something, I just can't tell him no."

Jackson's hands were getting very close to the smaller man's mouth and he thrashed. "Please, please don't do this, I'll give you anything you want! I still have half the money! I can even get you more! Please just call him off!"

"Wow, that is..." the larger man trailed off as he continued to stroke the smaller man's stomach, "...pathetic."

Jackson's hands started to enter the man's mouth and he began to panic as he felt his warm lips slide over his wrists. He thrashed, slamming his bound legs against the table and screaming at the top of his lungs.

The man smiled and gave a good gulp, pulling Jackson's hands into his throat. Tears streamed down the sides of Jackson's face as he fought with everything he had, but made no progress. Another swallow pulled his arms in even further.

The larger man lifted his belly and gave it a gentle shake, the chain rattling around inside. Jackson tried to pull away at the sound as another gulp pulled him up to his elbows.

"The chain sounded a little different, I wonder if the last pig's bones are still in there," the larger man said smiling.

Another gulp brought the top of Jackson's head to the lips of the hungry man. He twisted and screamed, "please, please no, please don't do this to me I swear I'll change," he sobbed, "I'll quit the force, I'll leave town, I'll pay back all the money just please, don't."

The larger man shook his head, "you stupid bastard, you had a chance already and fucked up every step of the way."

Jackson sobbed, "I don't want this."

The large man grabbed his chin and removed his visor glasses to make eye contact. "Neither did anyone you ever met." He grabbed the rope around Jackson's legs and lifted him with one arm, angling him as the smaller man continued swallowing.

With a better angle he went down smoothly. The smaller man swallowed quickly, dragging him down one gulp at a time as his lover helped to lower him in. Jackson's muffled cries and struggles were useless as his shoulders, then his chest, and then down to his waist all slid down the smaller man's throat. The larger man released Jackson's legs as gravity did the rest of the work, sliding him down inch by inch, not even requiring an occasional swallow. He rubbed the thrashing, growing stomach in front of him and kissed the other man on the neck.

After a few minutes, Jackson's feet slipped behind the hungry man's lips, and he gave a few quick gulps, dragging Jackson kicking and screaming into his stomach where the exit sealed shut behind him.

The larger man kissed his belly as he rubbed, "you look so sexy like this."

He let out a low belch and took off the face covering. "He's so heavy..." he said in a deep, husky voice.

"Let's get you upstairs Issac," the larger man said as he scooped him up into his arms. It was a struggle, but he still lifted him up.

Issac buried his face in his lover's neck as he was carried upstairs. He kissed him on the cheek while being laid down on the bed, "thanks Micah."

Micah lifted Issac's shirt off and rubbed his belly slowly. "That feel good baby?"

Issac let out a gentle moan and nodded. His stomach began making slow gurgles and the surface showed angry movement inside.

"I think someone's belly just realized it has a meal to eat," Micah said as he kissed Issac's navel. Issac squirmed and laughed a little as Micah's beard tickled him. He looked at Issac from over his belly and grinned.

"Wh. What are you doin'?" Issac asked.

Micah traced a circle around Issac's bellybutton with his tongue and rubbed the top of his belly. Issac let out a soft moan as he pressed his tongue in deeply, the rock-hard surface of his belly making it easy to wiggle his tongue in as deep as it could go.

As he licked, Issac gripped the sheets. From inside his belly he heard muffled screams and felt his stomach squeezing his meal like a vice, and on the outside he felt Micah's warm tongue gently teasing him. He moaned softly and reached out with his foot to rub Micah's thigh.

"Mmm, you liking this baby?" Micah said, taking a deep breath after having his face pressed into Issac's belly.

"Mmhmm, feels so good."

Micah rubbed the back of his thigh, finding the spot he liked as Issac moaned. He slid his hand further up and found Issac's hard cock waiting. Giving it a gentle stroke he kissed the side of Issac's belly and asked, "you want me to take care of that for you?"

Issac shook his head, "no... not like that." He widened his legs and looked at Micah with desire in his eyes.

Micah's eyes widened and he smiled. "When you said you had a treat tonight I thought you just meant eating the pig"

Issac tried to roll forward but couldn't move with the weight of his belly. Micah lifted his belly under one strong arm and supported his back with the other, lifting him up and kissing him deeply. His arms strained under the weight, but he slipped his tongue between Issac's soft lips and moaned when he returned the favor. Breaking the kiss, he licked behind Issac's ear and gave it a nibble.

Issac moaned and arched his back. "Baby please..."

Micah smiled and stopped, helping him get his balance on his knees and dropping his pants. He grabbed Issac's ass and tried to lift his leg, but Issac shook his head.

"Lay down, big man."

Micah laid down as Issac straddled his lap, his belly resting on Micah's chest. He heard the lube bottle squirt and felt a cold sensation on his cock that made him take a deep breath. He leaned his neck forward and kissed Issac's massive belly as he lowered himself, fitting onto Micah's cock like a glove.

As Issac started to move up and down, Micah rubbed his belly, licking around his bellybutton and savoring the taste of his stretched skin. Issac began to pick up speed as the man in his stomach started to thrash again, which only made them both pick up the pace.

"God you look so hot like this," Micah said, giving a few hard thrusts upwards.

Issac moaned and leaned his head back, enjoying the attention on his belly and the feeling of Micah sliding in and out of him. "Fuck me.. that feels so good..." Issac trailed off.

Micah kept thrusting hard as Issac's stomach began to make louder groans, and the man inside began to fight more frantically. Issac let out a small burp.

"Mmph, Micah... I don't know... I might... a-ah!" Issac cried, trying as hard as possible not to cum yet.

"You wanna cum big boy?"

"Y-you fir. first," Issac choked out

"What if I want you to cum first?"

Issac didn't answer and instead gave a moan and shook his head.

Micah began to thrust upwards hard, and rubbed the sides of Issac's belly in deep, gentle circles. "C-c'mon baby. I wanna watch you cum," Micah said, trying to hold himself back as well.

Issac gripped the sheets, his face red from trying to hold it back.

Micah moved his hand over the center of his belly and traced gentle lines with his fingertips. "Be a good boy."

"A-Ah! Micah!" Issac moaned, "fuck me, oh fuck..." He shot all over the underside of his belly, the sticky cum getting between his belly and Micah's bare skin.

"G-good boy..." Micah said as he started to shoot, "your ass is so n-nice-ah!" He shoot a thick load inside of Issac as he slowed down.

They both laid there in a heap, Issac's stomach still full and churning, until Micah helped set Issac on his side. They leaned in and kissed deeply, moving around Issac's gut as Micah rubbed it gently.

As the struggles in Issac's stomach quieted down, he let out a content sigh. Thrashing and shouting was soon replaced with content gurgles and the sloshing sound of a stomach full of meat.

What do you think of a police officer who eats people during his shift and uses his position to cover up missing persons reports?

No, but I'll write a story about a couple that kidnaps, humiliates, psychologically terrorizes, and then eats a cop before they bone.

[neekins]

“I’ll always find you” Part One

Fandom: A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder Pairings: Ravi x Reader, implied Pip x Connor Warnings: Kidnapping, jealousy, neglectance, sad Ravi, sad Pip (I’m sorry, I love her too), angst. Summary: Set in the first book, but Pip is not the only one receiving warnings. Ravi ignores it until he loses his girlfriend who he had neglected to prove Sal’s innocence.

[Also I was listening to ’Fat Funny Friend’ by Maddie Zahm, ‘No body, no crime’ by Taylor Swift and ‘Apocalypse’ by Cigarettes after … on repeat while writing this] … ‘I’m sorry but I can’t make it today’, the text said. He was still typing something else but Y/N didn’t want to see his excuse this time.

She was sitting at a local cafe that wasn’t far from either of their houses. She had waited an hour for him and that text was all she got. She wasn’t mad. He missed his brother and genuinely believed his brother was innocent and Pip did too.

Pip was smart, pretty and kind. If she hadn’t showed up on his doorstep, he wouldn’t be his old happy and hopeful self. Y/N just couldn’t help but wonder if he would miss her if she left him or would he be okay with Pip.

She got up and picked up her bags then walked to wait on the pavement for a taxi. She turned to look at the table that she waited for Ravi at. An elderly couple had occupied it. They were reading the menu while holding hands. Y/N noticed that when smiled she squeezed the man’s, Y/N couldn’t help but smiling herself.

A taxi stopped for her and she got in, though a bit upset that she couldn’t continue watching the couple.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

She gave him her address, it didn’t even matter to her that she got home safely.

…

Y/N opened her door to see Becca Bell and her brother. She had forgotten that Becca was babysitting.

“Hi Bee,” she said as she placed her bags on the counter.

“Hey N/N,” Becca removed Y/N’s bags from the counter. “How was it?”

Becca never minded that Y/N was dating the brother of her sister’s murderer, but it always brought discomfort to Y/N to talk about Ravi.

“The usual.”

“Thought so,” she said as she brought some tea over to Y/N. Y/N took it gratefully.

“Talk to me,” Becca said as she held Y/N’s brother in her arms.

“There’s not much to say other than I waited an hour and he didn’t show,” Y/N felt as though she was suffocating. Her throat was compressing and her eyesight had blurred.

“You okay?” Becca asked. Y/N didn’t want to worry her. She got up and said, “Yeah, just tired so I’ll just turn in for the night.”

As she walked towards the stairs, she couldn’t make it. Her legs gave up and she collapsed by the first step.

…

It was dark, really dark. She wasn’t in her bed because she was sitting and something was digging into her hands and legs.

She tried to move her hand to check what was causing the digging but she couldn’t move her hand but she couldn’t. She tried to scream but that didn’t work either.

She didn’t know what else to do. She was tied down, her mouth was taped shut and tears were threatening to fall.

…

She must’ve cried herself to sleep because she awoke to sirens, and red and blue lights.

The door broke open but she couldn’t see anything due to multiple flashes in her eyes.

“We found her!”

“We found Y/N L/N!”

Her limbs were freed from the binds, and she could hear herself breathing and sighing in relief.

A coat was draped over her shoulders and an officer had walked her out to wait for an ambulance.

Not too long after, her mother came running to engulf her in a hug. Her mother let go of her to look at her. Her hands were on both sides of Y/N’s cheeks and Y/N couldn’t help but cry as well.

Part Two

[novacorpsrecruit]

Bind by tape

Day 21 Steddie Kinktober - Accidental Kink Discovery - prompt from @infinite-orangepeel

Mature • wc 771 • tw improper packing tape usage

‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Harrington!” Eddie called from the stock room of the Family Video. “Need your help!”

It was new inventory day, which meant Keith scheduled an extra person to help with the new inventory. Three Family Video employees always seemed like too much on a Tuesday afternoon — even with the new inventory, but Eddie, Steve and Robin weren’t going to argue about sharing a shift together. Robin waved Steve off as she flipped her magazine. She knew the risk of sending Eddie and Steve off together. She may not see them until the end of their shift. But with as slow as it was, she almost didn’t care. She had more quiet time for reading. She could put on her own music and nobody would complain if they’re sucking face.

Steve pushed the door to the back room, catching Eddie with the roll of shipping tape in his hands and at least once around his wrists. He grinned sheepishly at Steve. “A little help?”

“I don’t know how you want me to help,” Steve said, feeling his throat go dry. He crossed his arms. “What are you even doing anyway?”

“I was wondering if I could break through this,” Eddie said. “Like if my wrists were bound? If I could break it.”

“If your wrists were bound,” Steve repeated.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Like if I was kidnapped or held hostage.

“You were taping your wrists together,” Steve said slowly, his eyes traveling down Eddie’s body to his wrists.

“To see if I could break free,” Eddie completed his sentence. “Now bind me.”

“Okay,” Steve breathed, stepping into Eddie’s space. He took the roll of tape from Eddie’s hands, slowly wrapping it around his wrists. Steve could feel a rush of excitement, a pool of heat in his gut, as he assumes he couldn’t wait to see Eddie test his strength. He’d wonder if he could convince Eddie to try it on him, as well.

“Tighter,” Eddie commanded. Steve obeyed. He wrapped it around tighter three more times, letting Eddie test the restraints before giving a nod. “Perfect. Now cut it.”

Steve leaned down, taking the tape between his teeth and tearing it, leaning back to pull it apart.

“Fuck —“

Steve looked up at Eddie as he laid down the end of the tape. He had a grin plastered on his face — the same troublesome grin that Steve knew meant trouble. That Eddie was up to something. The same lopsided grin that pulled the scar tissue tight. The same grin that Steve loved.

“That was hot.”

Steve rolled his eyes, taking a step back. “Okay, Eds,” he said, gesturing to his bound wrists. “Do your thing.”

Eddie yanked at his wrists, the tape didn’t budge. He struggled for a minute before searching for another attempt. He tried bringing it against his hip to no avail. He tried twisting his wrists to see if it helped loosen the tape, but it may have made it worse.

He grunted as he lifted his hands above his head, attempting pulling his wrists apart.

And Steve?

Steve watched from the distance, feeling himself go almost lightheaded with desire as he watched his boyfriend struggle against the the tape, binding his wrists together.

Steve audibly closed his mouth, letting the saliva pool in his mouth before swallowing. He couldn’t help but admire Eddie as he tried to fight the restraints, his body thrashing from side to side, the chain on his jeans jingling, as he could not break free.

He lifted his eyes to Steve, and Steve couldn’t hold back any further.

Steve nearly pounced on Eddie, his hand quickly covering the bound wrists above Eddie’s head. Eddie audibly swallowed. “Steve?”

“I think —“ Steve breathed, collecting the thoughts buzzing around his head.

“I think we need to take the tape home with us tonight.”

“Home?” Eddie asked, his eyes big like a baby deer.

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding slowly. “Think you look real pretty tied up like this.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked.

The realization suddenly dawned on Eddie of what Steve was asking. “You like me tied up, big boy? Like me on display for you?”

“Keeps you in one place, doesn’t it?” Steve asked with a smirk. He pressed a hot kiss on the corner of his jaw, nipping at the skin lightly as he squeezed his wrists in his hand. “Oh the things I’d do to you like this, Pretty boy.”

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned. “Bathroom. Now.”

Eddie slipped out of Steve’s grip with ease as he pulled Steve towards the employee bathroom. “Robin! 15 minute break!”

“Disinfect the room, you perverts!” She yelled back.

‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‎⊹ ࣪ ˖