#5- Secure money transfer

[determinate-negation]

another reminder to donate to mohammeds @save-mohamed-family campaign. as ive said before, mohammed’s entire immediate family was killed in the war and he is trying to save his wife and kids. i know people have been reading sentences like this for months now but seriously think about what it actually means to lose so many of the people absolute closest to you like that. its an unimaginable amount of loss and i don't want him to lose any more of his family.

this is #192 on the Vetted Gaza Fundraiser List

donations have been going slowly today but this is still extremely urgent. although he was able to buy some medicine for his kids with the funds i transferred last week, they’re still suffering from skin diseases and a lot of the money will need to go towards securing a stronger tent for the winter.

here are photos he sent me of his son who unfortunately is suffering from the skin diseases caused by the idfs destruction of sanitation and medical systems

mohammed goes every day to internet hotspots to send messages and try to raise money for his family, even though its more dangerous because the idf frequently targets wifi hotspots and places where people gather. he’s putting himself in danger constantly to try to save his family. please dont let his efforts be in vain.

please donate to this campaign, even if its $5. every donation adds up and the collective action of many people really makes a difference. i really hope this can get to 14k by tonight.

$13,127 raised of $50,000

[lonniemachin]

2 DAYS TO COMPLETE AHMED'S CAMPAIGN GOAL

Thanks to a very generous donor, my friend Ahmed and his family's GoFundMe campaign to escape Gaza has reached €39,525/€40,000! This means they only need €475 to be able to complete their current goal and move onto raising money for survival efforts, as well as to supplement the funds they lost dipping into their evacuation money and from tax withdrawals! When their campaign was created in April of 2024, before the closure of the Rafah crossing, a goal of €30,000 was set to secure safety for Ahmed, his wife Maram, and their children Habiba, Kareem, and baby Muhammad. We did not know how long it would take or just what it would take to get there, but we've managed to surpass it, every euro going towards sustaining 5 precious human lives amidst terror and genocide.

I ask that you please continue supporting them and help them reach their goal of €40,000 within the next 2 days so that they may achieve it by 11/01/2024. If the border opens, they MUST be ready to pay their way, and they MUST stay together -- I can't imagine the pain and horror of having to leave a loved one behind in so much danger because we were unable to raise funds in time.

Vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi. I have also been in consistent contact with the family for months, helped set them up with their beneficiary, have witnessed multiple successful transfers to Ahmed's bank account, and have seen multiple official modes of verification.

Tagging for reach under the cut.

@pinchan @annelidist @so-3i3 @thegalacticidiot

@possessedscholar @solcarow @getosugurusbangs @medusadyke @sabrsiren

@widowmaker @grimauxiliatrixofficial @cryoglaze @yaoisaint @hospitalroom

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@ijaazat @grecoromanyaoi @kermitlesbian @arunima @tunisian

[reality-detective]

Your thoughts on this folks?

Americans have been watching a massive, controlled Military Operation who strategically and critically planned and successfully trapped the Washington Establishment… Made them all confess their crimes and play a role in this operation piece by piece… as Americans have had to visually see and witness a ‘Continuation of Government’ in the form of a “Presidential Administration” where these corrupt and evil people will, have, and will continue to destroy their system from within, spend all of their dirty money doing so, until it���s time for the Military to visually step in.

The timelines all add up and prove the Military Operation and Occupancy:

1.     Snake Poem read by candidate Donald Trump – January 2016

2.     2016 Presidential Election – November 2016

3.     President Elect Trump and Putin on Fox News = “ready for ‘reset’… I will work with Trump” – November 9, 2016

4.     Law of War Manual (Military Occupancy and Negotiations etc.) – December 2016

5.     Military Justice Act (Supreme Court clarifying Military Law is separate than Civil Law; heavy emphasis on Military Tribunal terms) – 2016

6.     Military stands behind CIC Trump (Military Intelligence and JAG head bands; Optics) at Inauguration – January 2017

7.     Saudi Arabia crowns Trump King – May 2017

8.     Declares Jerusalem Capitol of Israel – December 2017

9.     Executive Order 13818 – Declares National Emergency to deal with Human Rights Abuse – December 2017

10. CIC Trump walks in front of Queen – July 14, 2018

11. Putin hands CIC Trump soccer ball (“the ball is in your court”; did not participate in 2022 World Cup) – July 16, 2018

12. Executive Order 13848 – September 2018

13. CIC Trump makes history; walks into North Korea – June 2019  

14. National Quantum Initiative – Executive Order 13885 – August 2019

15. Space Force established as Military Branch – December 2019

16. Corona Sars Virus first mentioned to American Public as a Threat from China – February 2020

17. Two more National Emergencies Declared – March 13 and 27, 2020

18. Executive Order 13912 Federalizing 1,000,000 National Guard to Active-Duty Status – March 27, 2020

19. CIC Trump quote on attack worse than Pearl Harbor and 9/11 combined – May 2020

20. National Guard Troops place fence around Capitol Building (47 US Code 606) – January 2021

21. CIC Trump receives full grade Constitutional by Law and Military Grade Inauguration ceremony – January 20, 2021

22. “Joe Biden” breaks 20th Amendment amongst many other violations – January 20, 2021

23. Aircrafts constantly over and through 33 mile no fly zone radius D.C. – January 2021 to present day

24. “Biden” extends Executive Order 13848 (first time) – September 2021

25. Quantum.gov launched – September 2021

26. New York Times reports Military Tribunals coming mid-2023 – December 2021

27. Army and branches transfer all communications to Space Force under ONE command (Biden’s never mentioned the Space Force not once; zero News Articles with his name tied to Space Force) – August 2022

28. Major Optics and Comms in CIC Trump speech – November 15 2022

29. More News Articles establishing Space Force Command Centers with zero mention of Biden – December 2022

Those few timelines and timestamps do nothing but prove a Military Operation and Occupancy along with many more Laws, Codes, Orders, Statutes, Acts, Optics,

The National Guard has been out of their state militia status and operating as Active-Duty Status every day since they were Federalized in March 2020.

There’s MORE than enough documentation and ‘proof’ to show not only the National Guard, but also thousands of World Alliance Aircrafts in and out of the United States and National Guard bases.

There’s United States Coast Guards with United States Navy at their stations. USCG is Department of Homeland Security during Peacetime and transferred to the Department of the Navy during Wartime.

The Brunson vs. Adams case simply states the obvious… Congress violated the Constitution.

- Benjamin Fulford

I will add; everyone thinks they know what's going on but very few have done any research on Trump's executive orders. Everyone has discarded Q because they have seen dates come and go without seeing any results. Fact is they weren't dates but rather chapters and paragraphs from the law of war manual.

We're going by the Book. Why? Because it has to be done by the rule of law, if not, it's just more crimes being committed.

Sun Tzu - The Art of War... Know your enemy, löök weak when you're strong, infiltrate and use disinformation to confuse the enemy. 🤔

[idleray-av]

PLEASE SHARE THIS POST

EMERGENCY COMMISIONS || PLEASE CONSIDER HELPING ME

PLEASE DONT SCROLL

This is me - Carl or Ray! And I REALLY need to move out of my place of residence as soon as possible. The reason of the emergency is that I need to get out of a toxic environment ASAP The big problem is my mother, who is NOT mentally stable. She treats me very ambivalently: at first good, then suddenly horrible. She threatens me with violence, and plays on my emotions and mental health. She is often transphobic towards me, doesn't value my opinion at all, and if I don't agree with her, she starts a scandal and threatens me.

She doesn't care that I'm haunted by suicidal thoughts, saying that it's my own fault and that I would finally LEAVE THE WORLD, and then she abruptly changes her position, deceiving me with words, saying that:

"I just ACCIDENTALLY said it, it wasn't what I meant"

And then again it loops in a circle: scandals, threats and, that I just misunderstood it all and that it was my own fault. She is trying her best to keep me in her house, telling me I can't go anywhere because I'm not capable of doing anything.

My mom said herself that despite the psychologist's recommendation to go to sessions too, she says she doesn't have time and she's old, she just has such nerves and it's NOT a bad thing.

She's not a very b*stard. I live in a warm place and have everything, but her mentally is not stable. Accusations, threats of violence that she will start the same way she did when she was a child and verbal abuse towards me. All her negativity towards me, I am not going to take it anymore, I have enough frayed nerves and tears as it is. I don't feel safe in this house. I don't want it to continue..

…. It hurts to be around her anymore, so I need your help to move out of this place.

So, I open commissions to get enough money so I can pay for tickets, luggage and move out! And also, to have enough money to get by.

DONATE - PayPal, Patreon, Boosty

- HOW BOOSTY WORKS?

— THE ANSWER ! [CLICK!!!]

IF YOU TAKE A COMMISIONS, I WILL GIVE YOU A LINK TO THE DISCORD SERVER, WHERE THERE WILL BE A LIST OF INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR AND OTHER ORDERS - WHO IS AT WHAT STAGE OF DRAWING!

IT'LL MAKE IT EASIER FOR ME.

AND YOU CAN ALSO WRITE AND ASK QUESTIONS THERE! MORE DETAILS ON THE DIS CHANNEL «INFO FOR MY COMMISSIONERS»

DETAILS:

I TAKE FULL PAYMENT IN ADVANCE

• Do not forget about the commission on the transfer in the price list is not specified!

Payment is via PayPal//Patreon//Boosty - INTEREST IS NOT INCLUDED IN THE FEE AMOUT. PayPal ~2,9 - ~3,9 percent. Patreon charges ~5 percent. Boosty charges ~10 percent.

(A website that will help you calculate how much extra you will have to pay! - https://percentagecalculator.net // https://kipsl.by/interest-calculator safe//srs)

MY ENGLISH IS NOT PRETTY GOOD, I MAY NOT UNDERSTAND SOMETIMES. PLEASE BE PATIENT, THANKS!

— By ordering a artwork from me, you acknowledge that you have read all of the following.

— Additional character = +100% of the original price

•Prices might change depending on the complexity. Also, from the design of the character.

— The cost of a full background is negotiable in the same DM, not less than 30 USD // 28 € and more.

•Simple background 10-20 USD // 9-18 €

•You can have a light background if you wish, it's free. It's my pleasure to do it.

—After payment, I show you the stages of the work as you wish, if you want!

•We'll figure out the deadline during the conversation, at least a month + may depend on my workload.

•Take into account that I can get sick unexpectedly. It's my curse that I hate, I get sick a lot.. I will warn you about that!

•If the work is needed by a specific date, we will discuss and most likely the price will change from how quickly you need to finish.

If you're not sure how your character would look in my style (or stylistics?) you can ask for a sketch sample but there will be a watermark from me.

I can refuse an order without telling you the reason.

-

I draw:

• SFW.

•OC//Characters

• Fandoms (I can refuse) // Fanart // Fancharacters

• Objects//Symbols//AmongUS (I can objecthead//symbolhead)

• Robots//mechanism (I can refuse)

• Humans, aliens, monsters, demons, spirits and the like!

• Ship art (But not with real persons unless they're already partners)

• Portrait of real people

• Insects (except flies, etc.)

• Horror, blood, gore, etc. (+ can realistic)

• My characters//sona to your order (I can refuse)

-

I don't draw:

• Furry, anthro//feral and other animals, lizards, dragons, ponies, etc.

• Very huge complex designs//constructions

• Real people (Exactly like a cartoon)

• Anime

• Anything to do with politics, racism, humiliation of the lesser, p*d*, inc*st and that kind of stuff. All weirdsussy stuff- Ugh.

Maybe that's all…

-

At your own risk (I DUNNO how to draw this stuff...):

• NSFW//erotic. (+50 USD // 45 €)

• Pokémon (not all of them, I don't draw fur/very beast-like ones).

• Musculature.

• Fetishes (Additional fee at the agreed price // I can refuse)

-

More details:

— I CANNOT RETURN YOUR MONEY.

• Keep in mind - if you have already paid and work has started, but suddenly you changed your mind, the money will NOT be refunded. YOU CAN'T CANCEL YOUR ORDER.

— I WILL NOT ACCEPT AN ORDER IF:

• No normal reference//no art with the character in fullbody size for a complete picture.

— You can request not to publish the order // add a watermark to it.

Know that I may use your order when I bring examples of my work!

— Edits are free at any stage, BUT except for huge edits (change the pose during the line with painting // change in general completely the background when it is almost ready, etc.) here already at a negotiated price fixing.

[glowl0]

Is there a backstory of your scp oc?

Very much so!

Their full name is Seamus Kelly, but after outliving their only family (pre-963) decided to just go by Kelly (lore dump ahead)

Sean was born after the great war (1920), the youngest child of irish inmigrant parents in the USA. He was very sickly as a child and was often taken care of by his brother, Liam (6 yrs older) as both parents were unavailable (full time working father and emotionally unstable mother).

Whenever he was bedridden (which was often) his older brother would bring him whatever trinkets he would find (this would partly play a part in his collecting and antiquarian tendencies)

Liam had an ability that adult Sean now knew as an scp, he often cured his sibling's reocurring illnesses by somehow transferring whatever the body needed from his own (ex. white blood cells for an infection) although he wasnt really aware of the specifics. He deprived himself so much he eventually succumbed to an illness himself, passing away when Sean's 12.

About 5 years later his mother takes her life, death becomes a sore topic

He starts doing jobs for college money, as his father refused to pay for it due to their economic situation.

He looks for scholarships and because its the cold war, the goverment starts investing in science which also means: foundation scholarships, he finds them through a coworker he often talked with and had mentioned his brother's ability to (under the assumption of it just being child vision)

Once he moves into foundation quarters he cuts off his father, not being in good terms with him. Maybe its something he regrets later, in his thirties, when he is diagnosed with a life threatening illness and doesnt have an inmediate suitale donor, finding that his father passed away from kidney failure way before he even finished his major.

Around this time one of the articles hes in charge of is 963, a safe scp known to produce small fragile gems

It was thought to be used in some sort of healing ritual, as the tomb it was in had other things related to it, but it was clearly defective now, with an empty socket at its center.

Kelly kickstarted further research in an attempt to activate it, at first due to his own masked desesperation to find something that could cure him (he wasnt going to join his family, he wasnt) but after a while his fixation on it wasnt normal, with bouts of euphoria when near it and debilitating anxiety when not

Its a while before anyone realizes the artifact had seemingly stopped producing its crystals, that whoever was in charge of it had never reported it (conveniently Kelly's health is better than ever)

At some point after being suspected, hes detained for trying to take 963 out of its containment, thankfully a colleage was aware of Kellys abnormal behavior and claimed it to be a memetic effect, Kelly was given A class amnestics (this wont work of course, because Kelly's memories arent stored in himself now, its the artifact's)

Before he is relocated a security breach breaks out, and Kelly finds himself going through a path he shouldnt be able to recognice.

He is later found dead wearing the object, and when he is opened up they find the reason why. 963 had fed on his soul and grown its seed inside him, replacing his organs, millions of crystals varying in size, until it found the perfect form that could make it whole.

And somewhere an unfortunate researcher unknowingly woke up with it inside them.

[halalgirlmeg]

PLEASE DO NOT SCROLL WITHOUT REBLOGGING OR DONATING

I have been in contact with a young, woman Shimaa and like many people within her country she is trying to raise money to leave with her family and start over, however, Shimaa has spoken to me about how day to day living is hard and she needs more immediate funds, so I am trying to raise money to help her raise money that she can have more immediate access to. Right now she is asking me to raise 100 dollars to be able to transfer to her.

Right now I have 30 from a donation. So, if 7 people could send 10 dollars, or 14 people send 5, I can send it to her for a cash transfer. I am gathering the money through my PayPal to help her. I will share the link below.

Goal: 30/100

Tagging for reach: @khanger @rhubarbspring @bahrmp3 @orchres @melaninnpink @lowcursedmg

[videodrome-fag]

$2,352/$60,000

I'm once again remaking this post as all the other ones are stagnating.

I am the organizer for this campaign on behalf of Mahmoud Balousha. We met on here a few weeks ago as he was in need of someone to make a GFM for his sister, Maysaa, and her family of 5 to evacuate Gaza.

Maysaa suffers from pulmonary fibrosis and needs oxygen along with a slough of steroidal medicine to manage her condition. Obviously, she is not receiving the care she needs.

Time is of the essence, now, as she and her family have been entirely displaced from their tent in Al-Shati after the attacks on Khan Younis. She is presently taking temporary refuge in Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir Al-Balah and is able to receive oxygen, but we all know how viciously fast things move on the ground in Gaza, and this hospital could very well be rubble within minutes of posting this.

This is a legitimate fundraiser, and Mahmoud has been verified by apollos-olives (they've posted multiple times about this campaign as well as the others for Mahmoud's other sisters.) I have personally sent money out of pocket to help Mahmoud with his daily expenses in Cairo and am currently holding the money from the GFM in my bank account until he is able to receive the next Western Union transfer. All of this information and more, along with receipts for everything, are provided in the GFM.

Please donate, please share, please help! There hasn't been a donation in 2 days, now, and we're miles from the goal.

[dazedasian]

"I am Muhammad, the only child in my family. I became the sole breadwinner for my family of 5 members in the last period before the genocide that happened to my city, after my father went through a severe health crisis. He was planning to travel to have an operation in Egypt, but the war came and his health condition became much worse. This was destroyed. Genocide My ambitions are to continue my education abroad and work on my small project. We were displaced from our house, which was bombed, and miraculously escaped death several times. One time, my sisters were injured from the sudden bombing of a house we had fled to in the middle of the Gaza Strip. We are now on our last stop for survival. In the city of Rafah, there is no guarantee for the lives of any of us. My aunt in Canada tried to get us out, but this requires a lot of costs to cross through the Rafah crossing. As you know, the amounts have become huge, reaching $10,000 per person. I need your support to save my family from this genocide, and I appeal to you. It is necessary to perform an operation on my father before his health condition deteriorates further. You are my only hope for my survival and the survival of my family from this genocide. We understand that these are challenging times for everyone, but whatever amount you can contribute will bring us one step closer to coming out peacefully from this genocide and providing my family with the security they deserve. I thank with all my heart everyone who helps and cooperates to save us. Thank you for your time, and we are sincerely grateful for any support you can provide.

Note: A family friend, Muhammad Al-Zaanin, will receive the money in Germany and transfer the amount to my sister residing in Egypt in order to register with Hala Company to evacuate us safely.

With heartfelt regards,

Mohammed Al Aloul"

[beardeddetectivepaper]

$58,117/87,500

Our Story Hello, my name is Yousef, and I am starting this fundraiser to secure a safer and more stable future for my family who are still living in Gaza, especially amid the ongoing conflict and its escalations that have severely impacted their lives. My sister recently gave birth to a beautiful baby during these challenging times. Her courage brings light into our lives, but the reality they face is threatening. They live in a house that has been severely damaged by the conflict as seen in the top left of the banner, a daily reminder of the dangers they endure. The Impact of War The war has left deep scars. My sister's three young children are growing up amidst constant trauma. The sounds of conflict are part of their everyday lives, a situation no child should ever face. Their education has been disrupted, which is crucial for their future development and prospects. Without the stability of regular education, their future is uncertain, and opportunities are diminishing fast.

Adding to our hardships, my mother, who suffers from chronic diseases of high blood pressure and diabetes, is facing an alarming scarcity of necessary medications. The ongoing conflict has amplified the shortage, putting her health in grave danger every day. My Sister's Education Furthermore, my sister, who was close to completing her degree, now finds her dreams shattered as her university was bombed. The destruction of her university has not only disrupted her education but also added to the uncertainty and instability of our family's situation. Why We Need Your Help We are seeking your support to raise $37,500 to help my family leave Gaza and relocate to a safe environment where the children can attend school regularly and grow up away from the trauma of war. Here is a breakdown of the costs for evacuation: Adults (5 adults x $5,000): $25,000 Children (3 children “including the newborn” x $2,500): $7,500 Relocation support (Initial housing and food expenses): $2,000 Additional Costs (taxes, GoFundMe fees, money transfer fees): $3,000 Every dollar raised goes directly towards the costs of evacuating my family and setting them up for a new start in a safe location, covering travel, initial accommodation, and essential needs upon relocation. How You Can Help Donate: Every little bit helps and brings my family closer to safety. Share: Share this campaign on your social media to increase its reach. We deeply appreciate your support and generosity during these difficult times. With your help, we can provide a new beginning for a young family that has endured the unthinkable. Thank you for reading, sharing, and contributing.

[deluxewhump]

The Scry

Ch 11: Call If You'd Like Help

Prev

CW: whumpee with powers, human trafficking, forced labor

In the weeks following his return to Max Kelly, Spartan left them more or less alone. Whenever Carlo would get overly involved in the numbers they were putting up, or stress about their position on a leaderboard, Max would gently redirect him. He had the account under control, their numbers were steady, their position as a team solid. 

He said this so Carlo would focus on his own wellbeing, but it sometimes made him feel less useful than he liked. Being needed was safety. Max would call on him for help and he’d nearly jump at the chance, using his powers to the best of the ability to scry elusive leads like a bloodhound. He’d go back to his side of the office after, head pounding, blood pressure low, happy. Max didn’t like that it hurt him, but there was no denying the look on his face when they landed another hefty contract, when the documents came back signed and he handed it off to the next department. Carlo knew he liked it. He liked winning, he liked having the upper hand. He liked the money and the job security. Who wouldn't?

Max had tried to open him a bank account but couldn’t, since he was a precognitive belonging to Spartan Enterprises and didn’t have the appropriate documents to do so. So he opened a second checking account within his own account and got a debit card for it, which he gave to Carlo. Every four weeks, fifty percent of his monthly commission check was automatically deposited into Carlo’s account. “You earned it,” he'd said gruffly.

Carlo had fifteen thousand dollars in the account by late summer, and had only used the card a handful of times. He’d bought himself a personal laptop, new clothes. A few iced lattes. Other than that it accrued, his by way of his user’s magnanimity. Of course, Max could take it away in a heartbeat, could transfer his little 15K back into his own checking or simply change the pin on the card. Carlo didn’t think he would, but he was acutely aware the money was a gift, a gesture of good will. 

By August he was comfortable. He and Max had a routine. They’d grown closer over the weeks and months since his return from Martin Olsen’s side project, so close it was like they had a shorthand with one another. Ingrid had started treating him more like a family member than a guest. She grew more apt to ask him to help her with things, or take out the trash, and at the same time grew more comfortable around him, less stilted and more affectionate. 

Alex Clair became a friend of their little family. He came over maybe once a month with Zee. They’d all have drinks and then dinner and talk about everything but work until inevitably work would find its way into the conversation, and Carlo and Zee would exchange a glance. They each wondered what the other’s inner life was like. 

Carlo liked Alex, it was hard not to. Everyone liked Alex. Alex was young, though, possibly only a few years older than him. There was something in Max that felt endlessly stable and experienced, even beyond his years, and Carlo knew if he and Zee’s places were switched that he would miss it. 

This routine of happily playing house came to an abrupt end in early September. The humidity of summer still choked the city with a tight lid, lifting only for a few hours at night before returning when the morning fog burned off.

One Friday afternoon Martin Olsen called a meeting for the precog sales team. It was 3:30, and everyone was annoyed. They could taste the weekend, it was nearly time to log off and head out, and now there was a mandatory meeting to attend. There was never a time limit with Martin, either. He might keep them all there until 5:30 and not even acknowledge it. 

He suffered through a long preamble and a talk about sales this quarter, and was thoroughly checked out when the news came, bringing him sharply back into focus. 

“We have had an excellent run. I’m extremely proud of this team, and I know we have some great things in our future,” Martin said. “Having said that, I hope you will understand the reasoning behind the decision to part ways with our precognitive partners.”

Tension filled the room like static electricity. Alex raised his eyebrows. Elle Davenport looked like she might be sick. “I’m sorry?” she blurted. Her precognitive, Belle, stared at the conference table in front of her with a look of placid indifference. Carlo understood it. He was afraid he was wearing a similar look, despite his heart jackhammering in his chest.

“I know you’ve grown accustomed to the help,” Martin placated, his icy eyes roving over everyone at the table. Carlo dropped his so he wouldn’t have to look directly at the man he’d grown so intimately accustomed with over the course of a week, that miserable week that still made him shudder to remember.

Disappointment and panic numbed him. If he tried, he could probably convince himself this was a bad dream and wake up in his bed at Max’s, the familiar print of the brown hare staring at him from the wall. 

“It is a final decision. Know a lot of thought went into it. You were all considered.”

“Where are they sending them?” Max asked sharply. 

Martin spread his hands. “I’m afraid that information is not shared with the likes of me, Max. This is a decision from the top.”

“Bullshit,” Alex said flatly. An uncomfortable silence settled over the meeting room. Carlo noticed it was now past four.  He and Max always left at four on Fridays. He longed for the sickly heat of the city block outside, the smell of concrete and asphalt having baked all day in the sun, the oppressive cloth oven of the truck before the AC started working.

“Has Spartan sold them to a private company?” Max asked Martin directly. “Or are they being returned to the government ?”

Martin ignored him. “I want you all to go home this weekend and process your feelings about this,” he said with clear condescension, pausing for a moment to look at Alex for the first time since his outburst.

“Think about how far you’ve come in eight short months. Think about the challenges you overcame and the adaptations you made. Think about your accounts and the exponential growth they’ve seen. You will continue to reap the benefits of that growth in the months to come. We will maintain those relationships with those new clients. Those deals we closed are not going away. And we will close new contracts, just as we always have. We will continue to grow.”

No one was listening. Zee was watching Alex from the corner of his eye, his face pale under his auburn hair, cut short at the start of summer. Carlo didn’t notice the meeting had just sort of ended until Max was pulling him up by the elbow, pointing him toward the door. 

“This is insane,” Elle Davenport muttered as they walked the hallway together back to their offices. Carlo didn’t know if she was talking more to them or herself. She dug irritably in her purse for her phone. “Are we supposed to go back to fucking cold calling? Really? Where’s the stability? I bought a house. I can’t have my commission checks go to shit.”

Max had a hand between Carlo’s shoulder blades the entire time, steadying him, grounding him. They stopped by the office to shut down and grab their things, and rode the elevator in opressive silence. 

Alex Clair's name flashed on the truck's dash display as he called repeatedly. Max ignored it.

“I’ll call him later,” he muttered on the third time, and switched his phone off. 

Instead of going home, he drove them to the north side of town and parked in front of a brick building hedged in a short wrought iron fence. A white sign at the front read Shrader and Svenson. 

“Am I coming in?” Carlo asked dully, knowing the answer already. 

“Can you wait here?” 

He shrugged, slouching in the passenger seat and looking the other way, out the window to a heat-dried row of shrubs with pieces of plastic and aluminum trash stuck in their yellowed branches like sad ornaments. 

Max wanted to talk to his lawyer friends about him, but without him. It annoyed him. Did he think anything they might discuss would shock him? As if he hadn't already seen the worst case scenario, lived in it? Whose innocence were they trying to protect, exactly? Max could be this way when he was trying to be protective. Seeing Carlo's posture, he didn't try to placate him. He left the keys in the ignition and shut the door. 

Eventually, Carlo glanced between his feet at the bag he’d grabbed before they left, an over-the-shoulder carrier he brought back and forth every day with his personal laptop tucked inside. There was a slim manilla envelope sticking out of the side pocket that caught his eye as out of place. He frowned. He’d never seen it before. It was only big enough to contain a folded check, or a key, something of that sort. He pulled it out and turned it over. It was unmarked.

He looked all around the truck outside before coaxing the fold open. Inside was a single piece of unlined paper. 

Call if you’d like help, it read in a swooping cursive penned with black ink. A phone number followed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Max exiting the practice. He shoved the envelope into his bag and zipped it shut.

[sirfrogsworth]

All the GoFundMe money is safe and secure and I already paid some mortgage with it.

Like... it wasn't really real in my brain until it finally transferred to the bank. I felt like I was skeptically just taking GoFundMe's word for it until it was deposited. My anxiety was already designing all of these worst case scenarios where people changed their minds and demanded refunds or maybe all 300+ donors had their credit cards rejected or Katrina was abducted suddenly by aliens and taken back to her home planet, Lesbios 5, and all of the account information was lost to the cosmos.

But it all worked out and I have an entire freaking year to get my shit together. I still need to meet with the lawyer. Figure out my social security. Clean out the house. Sell anything I don't need. Junk anything I can't sell. And there are some health goals I would like to try and focus on.

Also, I think I need to escape this house that you all helped save for a bit. It is still haunting me with its unending silence and I would like to visit my best friends for a while. I think I need that to heal. I've never been on an airplane and I have been dreaming of staring out the window since I was a tadpole.

And then, I guess I need to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. I could stay here for another 8 years and own this house outright. That would give me a lot of options. I could move closer to my chosen family. I could try to adopt another furry friend.

As far as finding a purpose... I wish I could find a way to do more effective political advocacy--especially for my trans friends. I had this idea for a website called "Build Better Arguments" which would give people tools and scripts and content to help them talk to their family and friends about difficult topics in the hopes of changing their minds. Sometimes the only people who can get through to the stubborn are their loved ones. I've actually had multiple people write me about conversations they've had with parents and uncles and grandmas based on arguments I've made in my essays, and they helped move the needle of understanding. And I've always wondered if I could do that on a larger scale, could it translate to larger change?

I don't know.

But it's something I've been thinking about.

I just wish my purpose wasn't so limited by my health. There are only so many things I can do. But hopefully I can figure out something that fulfills me.

[boolger]

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 8 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5] [chapter 6]☆ [Chapter 7] ☆ [chapter 8] ☆ [Chapter 9]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 8/10 ☆ 1,690 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, suicidal thoughts, mention of blood, violence, more will be added

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You packed everything important; papers, photos, clothes, electronics. You broke and soaked the information on hard disks that you didn’t need. Cried for about an hour on the couch, wondering why the fuck Kate would do this.

Every bill from the hospital was paid. Every single one and the hospital ended their letters with “we hope to see you again!”. 

As if.

There was money in your bank account too. Over 20 grand, just sitting there, transferred from an account overseas, but you didn’t need to be a genius to know that it was from her. Though this had been what had gotten you into this mess from the start, this was why you had even kidnapped Kate Laswell.

You should be ecstatic. Alice would be happy for you. You could move, abandon the house out in nowhere, escape with memories of your sister and you, laughing and crying together.

… memories of running, feet burning beneath you, of your burning ass, of pleasure… and of a face battered in by a fucking Shakespeare book. The constant thumping sound of a book connecting with the face, getting wetter and wetter, the feeling of the nose bending beneath it. Of the fear that ran through you as you watched Phillip Graves raising a gun at Kate.

After crying, packing everything into your shitty car which was filled to the brim with gasoline.

So you wouldn’t have to tank up for a while. So you could leave immediately, so you could abandon them all without any problems.

You found her knife in the car, beneath the seat, when you tried pushing a back under it. The butterfly knife was a silver coating, simple and clearly expensive. You opened it, looking at the sharp blade. It was like a last reminder of Kate. Expensive, well-designed and still dangerous as fuck.

Like a sign. You put it in your pocket. Closed all the car doors and got into it. Taking one last look at the old house, in the middle of nowhere, between fields and with the gentle humming of the highways. With an overgrown lawn, left to live its own life while you stayed at the hospital with Alice.

All the pictures, the clothes you had left of her, her books and CDs, everything you connected with Alice was in the van, neatly packed down in bags and then boxes, so they wouldn’t get wet. It annoyed you that you could pull the memories of the two of you from the house and pack it down too, to make sure they were safe and secure.

The rusty blue van started with a roar, like a monster waking up after a nap, growling for a while before agreeing to stay alive. You backed out of the driveway.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Using the horn this early in the morning was honestly rude, yet you found yourself honking, already annoyed with waiting.

The dress you wore had screamed your name when you packed it away the day before. You didn’t wear dresses often, preferring hoodies and such, but when you had woken up in the motel this morning, you had put it on. A babydoll dress in black that Alice had convinced you to buy years ago but you had never used it. Not before now.

You honked again, your van’s engine growling along.

It echoed through the neighbourhood, into the rest of the London traffic. Finally something happened and the little system next to the gate turned on, scratching for a moment.

“What do you want?” Ghost’s voice sounded a little tired, but as annoyed as you assumed he had been with you the entire time, barely audible over your god awful van. It was different from when he had kidnapped you back, first choking you out, then interrogating you with Price.

“To talk to her,” you answered loudly. Silence for a second.

“Go away, kid.” He then answered, “she doesn’t want to talk.”

You seethed at the kid. You were 25, not a goddamn child.

“I don’t fucking care I want to talk to her. It the fuckin’ least she can do.” ‘I saved her’ went unsaid.

You could only hear him grumble vaguely over the system, before the gates swung open in front of the car. 

“Thank you.” Your car almost coughed as you made it go forward, rolling into the property. You stopped in front of the main door, your rusty ass art piece standing out next to the dark and fancy SUVs.

One annoyed-looking, robe wearing Kate Laswell stepped out, morning hair a little messy but pulled back into a bun, her blue eyes resting on you. A part of you wanted to scream at her, another wanted to fall to your knees and beg. In the doorframe, both Ghost and Soap stood, watching you like ferocious guard dogs, waiting for the moment to attack. 

When you killed the engine and stopped, everything got much more quiet. You stepped out, standing only a few metres from her.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Kate calmly stated instead of greeting you, a neutral look on your face.

“Fuck you,”  not the best way to start the conversation and you could see Soap’s eyebrows raise behind Kate, but you paid her no mind as you took a step forward, “Fuck you, Kate. I fucking saved you and you disgarded me like a piece of trash.”

“I gave you what you wanted,” Kate remained almost emotionless, tipping up her chin a little, “You said it yourself. You needed the money to pay the bills, to start over somewhere new. I gave you that.”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ ask me what I wanted?” You asked angrily, clenching your hands, “Did you even fucking care? Bashed in that dude’s face and I was no longer of use to you?”

Kate shrugged but you could see the corner of her mouth twitch, see her shoulders tense a little, “Figured it was better than killing you.”

The urge to scream at her was back and you ran a hand over your face, keeping yourself back from doing so, from giving her the hell you wanted to. 

It was as if your mind wasn’t in control when you stepped closer, reaching into your pocket - ignoring the way the men in the door tensed, as if ready to step in, yank you away from her, push you to the ground –

The folded butterfly knife rested in your hand as you offered it to her.

“This was in my car,” you said, more calm now, not even sure why you made this stupid choice, continuing, voice turning into a whisper, “please don’t make me leave. I’d rather die. Please. I’ll be good for you.”

Kate stared at the knife for a moment, then up at your face again. Something in her eyes softened.

“I’ll be good for you,” you whispered, reiterating that you meant it. Your hand was shaking a little. With your black dress, you weren’t sure if you were dressed to impress or dressed for  your funeral. 

Her hand reached out calmly, to touch the butterfly knife in your hand. But instead of taking it from you, like you had expected, she moved her hand to push your fingers against it. 

“Keep it,” her voice wasn’t loud, her eyes never leaving your face, almost as if she was looking for something. As if this was a ritual of a kind, and you, the black lamb, had willingly come for slaughter - only to be turned down.

This wasn’t really what you had expected and though you tightened the grip around the folded knife, you didn’t move otherwise. She was the sun in your galaxy, the one you would look for and you didn’t know when she had become that. It was fucked up, it was wrong and there were no doubt something toxic about it, it was all messed up.

Kate Laswell stepped even closer. Her hands were soft as they rested on your warm cheeks, framing your face. You had to focus on not crying for a moment. The hand that wasn’t holding the knife came to rest on her elbow, as if to wordlessly beg her to never let go. You wanted to run your hand over the sharp bridge of her nose, wanted to kiss the wrinkles near her eyes, push away the stray long pieces of hair in her bangs, kiss her jaw and breathe in her scent near her neck. 

“I’ve ruined you, haven’t I, darling?” She asked, a tone of sadness clear in the question. You nodded a little, ever so slowly.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “rewritten my code –” your moved your hand from her elbow to rest against the back of one of her hands, nuzzling into her palm a little, “I don’t think I mind, though.”

That was the truth wasn’t it? A fucked up truth, from a broken woman that found somebody other broken in a different way, with a power imbalance between you. Even if she just wanted to keep you around as a fuck toy, you didn’t mind. You had somebody to care about again.

A soft smile appeared on her face.

“No more running away?”

“No,” you answered honestly, adding a sharp, “and don’t send me away again, either.”

A huff left her. “Alright.”

You were the one to initiate the kiss and Kate only deepened it. Finally you slid the knife into your pocket, before putting your arm around her shoulder. The world could have ended around you and you would have been happy. 

You heard a huff from behind her  - you just flipped Ghost off behind Kate’s back, making Soap giggle.

When you pulled away from each other, Kate didn’t even try to bed discreet as she took in your body, your soft curves in the dress, only hidden a little by the jacket. 

“That’s an awfully pretty dress, Fae,” she whispered, slowly licking her bottom lip, licking off the taste of your mind, “I should look at it closer. Preferably in my bed.”

Even as you felt your face heat up, you snickered like a love struck school girl. 

[gfbhfcgtbh]

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[continuous-spec]

ME Fic: Bait (3/5)

Summary: Morinth lured Shepard up to her apartment. Garrus and Samara race to save her.

Length: 2187

Links:  Ao3

A quick ping followed up on Garrus’s omni-tool. Shepard was moving fast towards the Fumi district- most likely a sky car. Garrus pushed his drink to his side and stood. Vlyrica’s hand snatched out and held tightly to his tunic. 

“Are you going after them? Just leave me here?” Her pink accent marks scrunched as she contorted her face in anguish. “Was this some sort of weird kink thing?”

Garrus scoffed, trying to focus and plan for the next step ahead. But Vlyrica was an obstacle, a drunk stumbling obstacle. 

“No, she’s in danger.” Garrus clipped. He gently removed Vlyrica’s hand and scanned the bar. Thinking on his feet, he called attention to the dancer from before. 

“Please make sure she sobers up, okay? Five hundred credits now and five hundred once I’m back.”

“That’s a deal,” the dancer said gleefully, waving her Omni tool and awaiting the transfer. Omega is a dangerous place. Even with the credits, there was no guarantee that she’d be safe, but money still held much power. 

The dancer’s face softened as she approached Vlyrica, ushering her towards a back room. 

“Don’t worry, credits or not, I’ll watch over her. We got to stick together here. What's your name?”

“V..Vlyrica.” Her eyes narrow at Garrus, gulping back anxiety. 

“I’ll be back, I promise.” 

Vlyrica nodded and stumbled along with the dancer to the back of the Afterlife bar. 

Garrus spent a second watching her disappear and was out the door.  He hoped for the best for her but still expected the worst of Omega. He can’t save them all. 

Shrouds of industrial dust clung to Garrus’s vision as he passed through the doors—the haze of crimson neon lights directed out toward the markets.

He brought up his omni tool, Shepard's ping stationary, within a wealthy apartment. 

Samara's arm shot out of the shadows, grabbing his shoulder, and pushed him into the grated metal of a ramshackle vendor.   Her glare into him cut stronger than her words from before. If Morinth gets away, especially at his actions, she will kill him. 

“Garrus, if you…”

“I got their location towards the wealthy district. Let's get a car and move.” Garrus clipped her off. The threats would have to wait until after Shepard was safe. 

Their arrival was quick as they cut through unoccupied side streets. Morinth’s building was on the outer edge of the asteroid, illuminated in the dark red glow of the barriers of Omega.  

Text flashed over Garrus’ omni-tool.

OS: Apartment penthouse floor, only entrance elevator into the room. Biometric entrance. Get here NOW

GV: Distract her as I override the controls. We will be there in 5. 

OS: Hurry

His omni-tool flashed as he bypassed through the system's code. Garrus fought past multiple firewalls, one of the more sophisticated security for Omega he’s encountered. He worked his way into the system within minutes, and the elevator opened. 

Garrus punched the keys to the top floor. The elevator lifted with a slow pull. His mandibles clamped to his jaw. They didn’t have five minutes. Samara stood tall, her barriers blazing tightly to her. An empty stare at elevator doors. She was ready. 

The comms cut back as the elevator ascended, in reach of Shepard. Morinth cool voice slithered into his brain. 

“I love clubs- the heat, the deafening rhythm. Here, it’s muted, and you're safe. But here, at least, I have you all to myself. There are no distractions, no watchers, just us. Is that what you want, Alison?” 

“The safety or you?” Shepard returned with a husky whisper. Confirmation she was still alive. 

The ticking of floors went by slowly. Seventeen, Eighteen, nineteen. Thirty to go. Garrus, with just a pistol, had it aimed and ready. 

“That’s up for you to decide.”

“I want you, Morinth.” Shepard’s voice was calm and sultry. “How do you want me?”  

Garrus imagined her half-lidded green eyes, wanting her to say such things to him. 

Shifting sounds of fabric and couch, a slight moan over the comms, this one more pronounced and longer in their privacy. Garrus wanted nothing more than to switch his comm. Ten more flights and this would be over. 

“Tell me you want me. Tell me you’ll kill for me.” Morinth's voice grew louder as if speaking directly into her comm. 

“I…I want to…I’d kill for you. Anything you want of me.” Shepard's calm, sultry tone was gone, now stilled and drunk-like as she spoke. Garrus punched the floor button to no avail to make the elevator move faster. 

“Shhh. Just relax, my darling, and hear my words. Embrace Ent...” 

Garrus stormed the room, not checking corners, directly lining up a shot on Morinth. Dark black eyes snapped and leered at him. 

Morinth crouched over Shepard, straddling her hips, bite marks redden from Shepard’s chin to her shoulder. Morinth hand gripping her long brown hair in a tight fist at the base of Shepards’s skull. Garrus trained his shot on Morinth’s head, too close to Shepard as she entangled her.

“Garrus…” his name barely fell from her lips, her voice rasped and pained. Before he could respond, Samara warped Morinth, hurdling her into the apartment window. With one fell swoop of her hand, she brought Morinth's body and crumpled her head into the concrete ground. 

With one thud, Samara's daughter, once lively, lay motionless on the floor. Her jaw and eyes opened in horrifying surprise. 

Shepard sprawled out on the couch, face pale and gaunt, her voice shaking.  “I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t move, I could barely think for…”

“It’s her way, Shepard, as I warned,” Samara interjected, placing a calming hand on her back. “It’s over now, thank you.” Samara's voice soothed over Shepard but remained distant. 

Garrus reached out to her, his hand awaiting hers. Shepard placed her hand delicately, almost too carefully, around his forearm.  Cold shock ran through his arm to his shoulder from her freezing fingers. 

Garrus easily brought her to her feet as Samara helped support her. Shepard stumbled in her heels, her face growing more pale. 

“Shepard, are you alr…”  Shepard's hand snatched away from him at his words, almost like a stinging slap. 

“I’m fine!” she snapped, her voice hitched. "I just need to get back to Normandy.” The purple hues of the apartment glinted off her pale face and brightened under her forming tears. 

Shepard pushed them both away, striding towards the elevator. Garrus followed in quick step, hovering to check her balance. 

“Let’s get off this damn asteroid.” Shepard hissed at him as she hit for the ground entrance. 

Samara stayed still, taking in the surroundings of Morinth apartment. 

“Samara, are you coming?” Shepard’s voice was sharp, more of a command than a question.  

“Give me some time with my daughter, Shepard.” Samara knelt over her body, only focused on Morinth. “My duty to you will continue when I am done here.”

Shepard's body straightened, trying to maintain composure and a commanding presence, but her words came out softer. 

“Take all the time you need.”

The sliding doors closed on Samara, who kneeled down and gently closed her daughter's eyes. 

Butler's mouth hung agape, eyes wide in horror, rigor already set. Nothing Garrus could do in his short time could put his face at peace. He tried and tried to close his eyes, but the best he managed was half-lidded and a screaming mouth as he laid the final cover over Bulter’s face. 

A sharp sigh snapped Garrus' attention back to Shepard. Shepard kept her body turned away as they silently faced the elevator doors. Quiet humming music filled the air.

He tried as subtly as he could to steal glances her way. Not sure where her mind dwelled. Her fist clamped tight to her side. 

Tears edged and crowded past her eyelashes. Her hands were quick to wipe them away. 

She caught him looking at her, her heart rate and breathing patterns still erratic and on high alert. She turned to Garrus. Bloodshot veins surrounded her mint green irises. On any other occasion, he’d grow excited and nervous from her stare, but her gaze was glossed over and fogged. 

She was lost to him. 

A heavy sigh parted her lips again. Garrus stood silently, awaiting her. Wordlessly, Shepard bridged the gap between them, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Her hand moved into his, Garrus tightly gripped back. The warmth of her hands radiates past the simple cloth of his glove and tunic. Three within five. 

The elevator doors hushed open, and Garrus half expected Shepard to let go of him. But she continued to cling to him, walking in step into the abyss of Omega together. 

He moved her towards the sky car, but she tugged his hand along. 

“I need to move, walk, anything, please.” Her voice was quiet but pleaded with him. Garrus twitched in discomfort. Walking Omega streets, even in the wealthy district, put him on edge. 

Patrols of guards strolling by still didn’t place him at ease. Guards on Omega were just gang members for hirer.  Red and silver armor, new upstarts, probably within the power vacuum he created. Nothing he did even made a dent here. His men died for nothing. 

The thought of Vlyrica's bright smile flashed by on Garrus. Even if he had just saved one person throughout his two years, that was still dent. He had to remind himself that. He'd hopefully find her sobering up at the Afterlife once this was all done. 

The hums of skycars filled their silence as they crossed the bridge. Orange neon lights glinted the silver dust of element zero that clung in the air.  Garrus steered them towards a more well-lit and populated street, past the markets- a path he had taken hundreds of times. 

They entered the Kima district, only a five-minute walk to his base. His wounds stung as he clamped his mandibles again.  Shepard's free hand massaged his arm, almost as she sensed his tension shift. 

In her distraction, her heel caught in the pot-marked street. A curse left her lips as she fell into Garrus. 

“I want to chuck these off this damn asteroid.”

“Barefoot on Omega is not something I’d suggest unless you want to step in vorcha crap.”

“Or used needles or sewer water.” Shepard pipped in. 

“That or varren blood, rotting trash, probably krogan piss, but that’s not so common for this district,” Garrus jest. 

“You would be the expert.”

“On krogran piss?” 

Shepard let out a guttural laugh that erupted in a large snort. It was Shepard’s laugh. There was no airiness or deceit, just Shepard. “Fine, death trap heels stay on. You can carry me then.” 

“You know I would.” 

Shepard pressed herself into him as they walked. He encircled one arm around her, letting her press against him further.

She stumbled along with him on the ever-lit night of Omega, crowded by the towers and orange neon hue.  Together, they walked the streets of the Kima district—past years of memories of good men now gone. 

Erash. Monteague. Mierin. Grundan Krul. Meleni. Ripper. Sensat. Vortash. Butler. Weaver.

Each of their faces haunted him. He tried to remember them as they were. 

From Erash’s bright eyes, whenever an explosion went off without a hitch. Or Montague and Vortash's anger as they bickered over a game of Poker. Too Bulter’s passion and crocked smile as he spoke of his wife. And all the other countless moments in between each mission with them all. 

But their last moments stayed. All their lifeless, gaunt faces.  One by one, as he covered them carefully. 

Shepard's fingers tightened into his palm, pulling him back from the past. 

He squeezed back and pushed them forward to the Normandy. 

 ***

Arrival at the dock was surprisingly uneventful. Shepard pressed the code into Normandy to enter, her free hand still tightly wounded in his. He stood in place, hesitant to join her. 

A tight frown formed at the corner of her lips and softened as she spoke. 

“Go make sure she’s okay.”

“Shepard, I just want to make sure you’re okay first.” He pleaded with her. 

She signed, untangling their hands as she stepped closer to him. 

“I will be. I saw how much that girl drank. She’s still out there. You should go.”

“I am. I just…” Garrus paused, unsure how to phrase it. He just wanted to make sure things went right. Just once. 

“Are we okay?” His voice betrayed him as it wavered at the question.

Shepard’s hand trembled as she caressed the newly healed scars. Her palm gently cupped his face. Bloodshot eyes beginning to soothe, she stared into him. He felt his heart pound, waiting for her answer. Her grasp just made him want to fall into her embrace. 

“We will be, but we need to talk. Just give me some time, please.” 

Shepard's fingertips trailed off of him as she stepped back. She engaged the door controls, leaving him with a sad smile as the airlock shut between them. 

[skzhocomments]

In the Dark - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 2 - Take my breath away

General masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

---

Chapter 2 - Take my breath away

chapter word count: ~6.6k words

~Jieun’s POV~

Mondays are always the worst day of the week, as the weekend barely provides enough time to actually recharge and get my energy back after dealing with screaming children for 5 days straight.

I love my job, but teaching elementary school kids their 2+2s and ABCs is not exactly the dream, is it?

It was mine, though. I’ve always loved kids and found a lot of fascination in the idea of bringing up someone, in being able to shape a small person’s thoughts and ideas, in being able to perhaps influence them so that they would remember you 20 years later when they’re all grown up and successful. I wanted them to look back at this time spent with me in our small classroom fondly, to create a safe space for them so that they can grow up into the best version of themselves.

It's still my dream, but the problem is the money, that is hardly enough for my current expenses. Ever since my grandmother got sick, I knew I had to uproot our lives, and I brought her here, in the biggest city of our country, after managing to secure a job as a teacher at a small school in a quiet neighbourhood, so that she can have access to the best healthcare. Her hospital bills and meds, though, combined with my rent and food, are a fatal combination for my paycheck.

But you know the saying: desperate times call for desperate measures.

I was no different, and I knew that if my grandmother were to ever find out what I was doing in order to keep her hospitalized with 24/7 care available, she would at best disown me, at worst kill me with her bare hands.

inthedark.com

A website where you would essentially apply to become a high-end prostitute. A site that’s supposed to keep your identity completely private, and your clients’, too.

I joined this website one week ago and had my first client last Saturday, and for just two hours with him, I got almost half of my school paycheck. He also tipped me 200$, which was crazy. Who tips a prostitute that much?

I shouldn’t be doing this, I know, but what was I supposed to do? Let the person who raised me pass away in pain, when I knew she could get treatment to help her live a decent life for a few more years?

~

I lazily got out of bed and headed to school. It was 7:30 AM, and the school was just a few minutes’ walk away.

I liked to get there earlier so that I could rearrange the kid’s seats and make sure my classroom is perfect. We had an art contest last week, and I wanted to put all the paintings on display on the wall for the kids to see. I wanted to set up my cookie jar as well, because the best way to start the day for anyone would be with a nice little treat.

“Miss Park, good morning!” The director of the school, a lady well in her late 50s was inside of my classroom and welcomed me with a big smile on her face. Next to her, a tall, slim good-looking man holding a little girl’s hand smiled as welcoming as the director.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wang. What brings you here so early in the morning?” I returned their smiles and nodded briefly at the man, then turned my attention to the little girl hiding behind her dad’s leg. I waved at her, but she only hid her face more.

“Well, we have a new transfer student. Dear, won’t you introduce yourself?” Mrs. Wang tried to get the little girl to talk and looked at her expectedly. “Come on, we don’t have the whole morning!” She continued, making the little girl turn her head away, and a frown appear on her father’s face. Forcing a shy kid to say anything would prove pointless, so I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Actually,” I started, “we do have the whole morning. What a beautiful day to get to know each other, don’t you think?” I smiled brightly and took a few careful steps towards the dad-daughter pair, letting myself fall on my knees to be on the same height as the girl.

“Well, I’ll let you handle this. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Choi.” The director smiled and left the room.

After the director left, the girl seemed a bit less tense. Her father caressed the back of her beautiful, long, brown, curly hair, and spoke kind words.

“It’s okay, baby. You can tell the nice teacher your name.”

The girl still shook her head, and her dad started apologising. “I’m really sorry, she’s not normally like this. Her name is-”

“That’s fine.” I cut him off. “We can learn each other’s names later, isn’t that right, beautiful?” I smiled at her lovingly, and she finally looked at me for a few seconds. “I have something really tasty for you and your future classmates.”

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the large bag of chocolate cookies that I baked yesterday. “But I have to put them in that big jar on the desk. I’m not sure I can do it alone. Would you like to help me put the cookies in the jar? You can have two cookies if you help me, but it has to be our secret.” I whispered and placed my index finger against my lips, then winked.

The girl seemed excited, as she nodded eagerly with a bright smile on her face and ran to the desk. I followed her, and gave her the bag of cookies, letting her put each cookie into the jar; a simple activity that helped calm her down and warm up to me.

“Wow, you’re so good at this!” I praised her, and she chuckled like the innocent kid she was, reminding me of why I loved children so much. If I would ever have a daughter, I wanted her to be just as cute as this little girl who’s happily putting cookies in the jar one by one with her little hands.

“Done.” She smiled, showing me and her dad her work proudly.

“Well done, baby!” Her dad praised her as well.

“Now it’s time to eat a cookie!” I clapped my hands once, and the girl took some cookies out and came to me and her dad, handing them to us. Of course, we accepted and started eating them, as the girl grabbed a cookie for her as well and munched on it joyfully.

“How is it?” I asked the girl, watching her devour the treat.

“Tasty!” She exclaimed, making me and her dad look at each other and chuckle. “I love chocolate!”

“I’m glad you like it. I made them myself!” I boasted, then chuckled again. “My name is Park Jieun. I’m really happy to have you join my class, and I hope we’ll be best friends.” I told the girl, who nodded and replied.

“My name is Choi Nari. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Park. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, come here!” I positioned myself back on my knees and opened my arms to her, squeezing her tight. She was the sweetest little girl.

“Where will I sit?”

“Hmm, how about this seat here?” I went next to the first desk next to the window and pointed to the seat on the left, which hasn’t been occupied. “Your deskmate is a sweet girl just like you, and I think you’ll get along great.”

The girl happily ran towards her seat and her dad followed her, placing her small backpack on the table.

“Okay, Nari, daddy has to go to work.” The man spoke kindly. “I will come pick you up at 4, okay?”

“Okay daddy! I love you!” She waved.

“I love you the most!” He smiled and waved back, and I saw him out of the classroom.

We walked for a bit, and I closed the door behind us, giving Nari privacy to take out her stuff in peace and arrange them on her desk.

“Thank you so much, Miss. Park. Nari already seems better.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Mr… Choi?” I tilted my head and smiled, unsure.

“Oh, yes! I apologise, I completely forgot to properly introduce myself earlier. My name’s Choi Minho.” He nervously scratched his nape and handed me his hand, which I shook.

“No worries.” I chuckled. “May I ask why you transferred Nari in 2nd grade?”

“She… has been bullied at her old school, and…”

“Oh no.” I frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hope she’ll be better here. She really seems to like you. Please take care of her and let me know if anything happens.” He bowed slightly.

“Of course. Please don’t worry about anything. She’s in good hands.” I assured him, and he raised his head.

Opening up his coat, he took out a small business card and handed it to me. “This is my number, please call me anytime if Nari needs anything, or if something’s wrong. Sometimes I’m a few minutes late to pick her up, but I’m going to try to be here on time. Still, could I also have your number in case I’m running late?”

“Of course.” I smiled and typed in his number from the business card in my phone, shooting him a quick text with my name.

“Thank you so much, Miss Park. I see kids are already starting to come, so I’m gonna leave you to your job. Have a nice day!”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” I smiled and stepped back into my classroom, where Nari already finished arranging her notebooks and was now excitedly looking at all the paintings on the walls.

Damn, the paintings! I cursed in my head, remembering I wanted to stick the ones from last week’s art contest on the walls, but it was already too late to do so.

Children started buzzing into the classroom, their parents holding their hands tightly and kissing their chubby cheeks goodbye, as the next time they would come pick them up would be in some many hours from now: 6, 7 or even 8, to be more precise. Even if the classes ended at 12, the school I secured a job at gave the working parents the possibility of coming late for pick up.

When the parents were gone and the whole class was seated, I asked Nari to come in front and I helped her introduce herself, making sure that she felt as comfortable as one shy child could in a new environment.

~

2 AM found me drinking tea on the small sofa in my rented apartment. Normal people would sleep this late on a Thursday night, but here I was browsing through people’s forms in Requests on the In the Dark app.

Meeting Charisma last week got me a lot of money, and ever since then, I’ve received a few requests from others, but I’ve been pretty reluctant to meet up with anyone else. Charisma set the bar quite high. Not only was he fit as fuck, which I could tell just by roaming my hands on his chest and perfectly sculpted abs and muscles, but he was genuinely good in bed too, not selfish, made sure I felt good and even made me cum, which was a first for a random hook-up, and certainly not what I expected when I signed up on inthedark.com as a prostitute.

His special requirements were also normal, compared to the others I’ve seen which were at best degenerate. I kept rejecting other ‘applicants’, but I wasn’t sure if I should keep my expectations high or just go with whoever was willing to pay the price I gave myself.

It felt horrible, objectifying myself like that, having to decide what my body sells for and actively selling it away. I have become just a trash toy for someone to use as they please. I have become damaged goods, an object purely crafted for sexual function. I have become dirt, and I was now a dirty woman.

inthedark.com was, after all, a dirty place stinking putrid. Even if the font was a fancy Centeria Script, the name shining in golden letters on a black screen, even if it looked presentable, drawing you in with every click, promising all and any fantasy, wild, rough sex under the pretense of a poor woman’s factual desire, it was just a filthy site, gaudy and cheap, like any other brothels out there. The more it seems to shine, the more it’s actually teeming with decay.

The only good things this site offered were how private everything was and letting me at least make the choice myself of who to sell my body to. There were extensive documents everyone who wanted to become a member – be it customer or whore – had to provide, from medical records to personal information that was stored to be used against you in case you would violate the terms and conditions. They would sue you to oblivion if you so much as brought a source of light in the room.

At least that.

It was private and it was safe from a medical point of view.

The first (and only) customer I had was this Charisma dude, who, as I said, set the bar in the fucking sky. He was respectful and treated me more like a partner than like a mere prostitute, even if he didn’t want to kiss me.

I understood that, for I probably was, in his eyes, a dirty whore who fucked men for money.

Still, I was really grateful that my first customer was Charisma. He didn’t know how many demons I was battling while letting him touch me and while touching him. He didn’t know how much I hated myself for disposing of my principles in exchange for my grandmother’s hospital bills. He didn’t know any of it. Still, he treated me with care. He didn’t degrade me more than I was already degrading myself, and I was thankful for that, because otherwise I didn’t know how I would’ve been able to live with my regrets and with this guilty feeling pressing down on my chest every time I breathed.

7 requests to go through. I sighed, still unsure if what I was doing was the right thing. I didn’t want to fuck strangers for money, in fact, I was always against women flaunting their tits and asses and pussies to earn some, but then again, I think there aren’t too many people that geuinely want to do this kind of work anyway, and how else was I supposed to get more money without it affecting my day-to-day life and job? It’s not like I could go get hired somewhere else and work another 6 hours per day for the whole month, just to get the same pay check I made after a few hours of sex.

Still, I really didn’t want to accept other forms. Charisma’s money was going to pay for my grandma’s care this month, so I could technically not get any clients until next month without any issues.

Yes, maybe I should just reject them all and whatever comes next month, I will take.

Another sigh left my lips as I looked at my now cold cup of tea, just as a ping forcefully pulled me out of my thoughts.

1 new notification – inthedark

I pressed on it and a new request popped up.

It was Charisma.

---

CHARISMA – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Hello Flame, I was hoping I would see you again this Saturday. Just like I mentioned in my last form, I love everything intimacy-related.

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: No kissing on the lips, please.

CONDOM / NO CONDOM (if you pick the NO CONDOM option, you have to attach a report of a recent medical check-up that ensures you don’t have an STD): no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: Feels weird to communicate this way, but not knowing who you are and you not knowing who I am is probably better for both. I’m really sorry for the dirty question, but… how’s your gag reflex? I would love to fuck your throat if you’d let me :) Of course, that doesn’t mean I will forget about you.

---

Charisma wanted to see me again on Saturday night. He booked 4 hours this time.

I really didn’t want to accept other forms. But if it’s him…

I think… I might just accept it.

Why not?

He was great in bed. He paid attention to every part of my body.

He held me afterwards.

Why not?

I started reading through his form and found it very funny how he used each column to have a ‘conversation’ of sorts. All the other clients would simply write what they wanted or didn’t want, forgetting there was a human being on the other side of the form.

He even wrote please, for fuck’s sake. Did he forget I’m just a whore?

Of course, that doesn’t mean I will forget about you. He wrote that. Why? Does he want me to enjoy the sex that badly? He could just use my throat to get off and not even touch me at all, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he doesn’t pay me to enjoy having sex with him. He pays me so he can cum inside or on me. So… why did he feel the need to mention my pleasure like that?

Is he also having second thoughts about this whole prostitution-thing?

Maybe I’m also the first harlot he’s seeing. What a funny thought. Maybe we’re just the same. It wouldn’t be so implausible, since his touches were so unsure at first, I almost felt like laughing. Shy in a whore house. Pfft.

I liked Charisma. He was a good customer to have.

I could just think of him as my fuck buddy to ease my guilty conscience, and if I would only see him, and he would hire me at least once a month, I wouldn’t have to fuck any sleazy guys. I could keep my dignity – in some way, anyway. This felt like cognitive dissonance, but it helped me not beat myself up over having a different guy pay me every week to endure him fucking me.

At least I enjoyed it with Charisma.

Yes. Okay.

---

FLAME – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Charisma, I really appreciate you booking me again. :) I’m quite happy, actually, to know you’ve enjoyed our last time together. Of course, I’m going to take care of you and hold onto you for the whole night. ;)

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: I don’t enjoy pain, but you can slap my ass (please?), and even my face – not too hard! – if you’re into that, if you make sure you won’t leave any marks.

CONDOM / NO CONDOM: no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: My gag reflex is not so bad, but it might take some time to get used to you. Please take it slowly at first. If I can’t take it or need a break, I will tap on you three times.

---

Saturday came by quickly, and I was pacing back and forth around the dark room while waiting for Charisma. It was funny, really, not ever seeing how this room looks like in the light, but they’ve informed me when I first came here that the lights in the ‘bedroom’ stay off all the time to prevent any accidents from happening. Only the hallway is illuminated, and that light turns off automatically as well as soon as you press on the bedroom’s handle.

When I arrive here, the bedroom door is already open, so I have to walk into the room and shut the door behind me, which is when the mechanism starts working. The client then comes in the hallway, opens the bedroom door, and all lights in the whole place turn off. When the time is up, we hear a small bell sound, and I have to exit the room back into the hallway and close the door behind me.

The door locks automatically and the light turns on, and there is a clean white bathrobe waiting for me on the small shelf in the hallway. I must dress myself in it, then leave to another room on another floor, so that my client has the same privacy as I do. In that other room I can shower and chill out while a staff member brings me my clothes, previously discarded on the floor.

Now back on what happens to the client after I leave. The bedroom door would get unlocked, and he would have to go into the bathroom and clean up as well. While he does that, the staff member quickly collects all our clothes, and they leave the client’s on the small shelf in the hallway, and they bring mine, as I said.

Neither of us meets the staff members face to face. We sometimes hear them rummaging around, but we’ve already been instructed on the app prior to the meeting that we have to pretend they’re not there, and not try to meet them at all. Their identities are private. They have the same right to privacy as we do.

My clothes are brought to me in the hallway of my new room while I sit on the bed and watch TV or eat and drink stuff from the mini bar, but only after my client has left the building for a long time. Last time it took about 1 hour for my clothes to be brought to me, and I spent that time glancing around the room at the ugly yellow wallpaper with gaudy flowers on it, and the boring brown furniture. I wondered if the room Charisma and I used looked as disappointing as this one.

At least everything was clean.

-

I don’t know how long I waited for Charisma. Probably 20-something minutes, as I got here way earlier than I should’ve. I sat on the bed for the first many minutes, but I got bored and sleepy, being surrounded by complete darkness, so I decided to get up and just walk around the room, see if my hands recognise any décor from the room I did see.

My heels were getting uncomfortable, and I don’t know why I decided to wear them. I could’ve worn sneakers. My stupid brain just thought in a leap of judgment that this slutty short skirt I was wearing, that left virtually nothing to the imagination, fit way better with a pair of high heels. Both were black, but of course, I was the only one who had that information. The staff member that would have to pick them and my soaked wet panties from the floor and bring them to me would have it as well, in about four hours from now.

When the door finally opened, Charisma’s scent invaded my nostrils, just like last time. The perfume he used must’ve been expensive, but I didn’t recognise it.

Instead of waiting patiently for him to figure out where I am, like I did last time, I decided to be bolder and headed towards him directly. My eyes were already adjusted to the darkness in the room enough to be able to see shapes. Of course, there was no visible source of light, but it wasn’t pitch black either, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to notice where Charisma was.

He was a tall man with a nice build, and he frankly turned me on, thankfully.

When I got in front of him, he stopped moving, aware of my presence, and I pressed my hands on his face. If he were my date, or at least my hook-up or one night stand, I would’ve kissed him, but I knew better.

I knew he didn’t want it. Why did I want it? It made no sense.

I would’ve done it, though.

I would’ve raised on my tiptoes, even on these uncomfortable high heels, and I would’ve smiled at him and told him a small ‘hi’, and then I would’ve pressed my lips against his, and I would’ve let him stick his tongue down my throat and kiss me over and over while our hands would erratically grab each other’s bodies, for both of us were full of desire and wanted to feel a little bit closer.

But my contract doesn’t allow me to talk, and he doesn’t allow me to kiss him, and I don’t know why these thoughts even went through my head, because what genuine desire could there possibly be between a customer and his whore, besides purely sexual tension for a release?

He held my hands with his, that were still on his face, and he grabbed my right palm, letting my fingers brush over his lips so lightly, a feather must’ve felt heavier. Then, he pressed a gentle kiss on my fingertips, and my heart started beating faster, irregularly, uncontrolled.

He pulled my body into a hug and caressed the back of my hair as if he would’ve said ‘I missed you’, as if I were his lover, and I embraced him back, as confused as I was, feeling my head get lighter as I felt deprived of oxygen. He took all of it out of my lungs with such simple gestures.

When we separated, I started roaming his body with my hands, taking off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. We let all those useless garments fall down and I started kissing his neck and chest, biting his skin slightly, his small moans every time my lips touched his body turning me on way too much for him to just be a client that pays me to have sex with him. Who knew this could be so enjoyable to me?

Since I was meeting him for the second time, I already knew my way around his body, his firm muscles, where I needed to touch to make him squirm under my fingers. He was burning hot and he smelled good, and all my senses were intoxicated and full of him, so it was too easy to fall on my knees and unbuckle his belt, to take his already hard dick in my mouth.

Did I excite him that much for him to already be hard after just a few love bites on his chest and stomach?

As soon as my mouth made contact with his member, he let out a small groan. I wondered if his head was rolled back, if his eyes were closed, if he wanted to watch me suck his dick. If we would’ve seen each other and he would’ve looked at me, would’ve I looked right in his eyes to watch him become fucked up with the pleasure I’m causing?

What colour were his eyes? Brown? Green? Black?

I worked his dick down my throat to the best of my abilities, painfully aware of his written request of fucking it tonight. I wasn’t necessarily good at deep throats, but with enough ‘training’ and patience, I think I would be able to take a good fucking, even if it would leave my throat sore the next day.

Charisma was thankfully patient, for now at least. He let me suck him off the way I wanted to, his small moans would compliment me and encourage me to keep going, and his large hand on the top of my head was there just to caress me, not to push me or hasten me in any way.

He showered beforehand; much to my delight, he tasted good, and he was well groomed. This, combined with the fact that his body was sculped by some Greek God, made me wonder why he came to see a prostitute in the first place. It shouldn’t have been difficult to get any dates.

Maybe he’s ugly.

The thought sounded wrong in my head. Somehow, I didn’t even want to imagine this a possibility, for it was simply impossible for Charisma, who treated me so gently, who smelled so good and was so tidy, who certainly spent years in the gym to train this perfect body under my fingertips, to not be good looking.

Maybe he looks like that dad of the new girl in my class. He is handsome enough, and they seem to be of similar heights anyway.

A dangerous thought came through my head, but I tried to get rid of it as soon as it came.

Use Choi Minho as a visual representation of Charisma. He’s hot and handsome, and they’re the same height.

Of course, doing this to my mental health wasn’t a good idea. Charisma was Charisma, a faceless man I enjoyed fucking whenever he wanted to meet me.

I should never navigate on that territory of imagining him to be someone I know in real life that I see every day while he drops off and picks up his daughter from school. He’s probably married anyway, and I’m not a homewrecker. Not intentionally, at least. Charisma might be married too, but I didn’t feel any rings on his fingers last time we met. Of course, men are men, and he could’ve just taken it off, but even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered, because he was paying me for the few hours spent together, and I couldn’t get out of the agreement anyway.

I continued sucking Charisma off, and I started getting used to the pressure down my throat. Even if I was choking a bit on my saliva that was now uncontrollably smearing my face and falling on my clothes and probably on the floor, the feeling in my neck wasn’t that unpleasant, and I was glad that I didn’t feel like throwing up.

Charisma must’ve felt it too, because he grabbed my face and pulled away, then helped me stand up. He used his hands to clean up my chin, then helped me towards the bed. I laid down, my head on the edge of the mattress, as he aligned his dick with my mouth.

I opened wide, but he hesitated for a bit.

Is this okay? Is what his hesitation made me think he wanted to ask, if he were allowed to talk. Of course, he signed the same forms as me, so we weren’t allowed to utter any more than desperate sobs, moans, grunts and whines, but that’s what it felt like he was asking, so I placed my hands on the back of his now naked thighs and pulled him towards me.

He pushed his dick in my mouth, and I took it in fully, and he stayed there, balls deep, for a few seconds, taking my breath away. Then, he pulled out and I caught my breath. He didn’t leave me too many seconds to do so, as he entered my mouth again and started keeping a steady pace of fucking my throat deep and quick while holding my neck with his right hand. He squeezed and I felt myself become a bit too deprived of oxygen, and while it made my head dizzy, it also gave me euphoria, so I found myself moving my own hand towards my pussy and starting to rub it slowly through my underwear, while Charisma was using my throat as his personal fleshlight.

I was becoming sensitive and felt myself wanting to cum, but my head got so dizzy, I was focusing hard to keep myself present in the moment and not faint from the lack of air in my lungs. I stopped rubbing myself and raised my hand to cover Charisma’s on my neck, as I was almost at my limit and didn’t think I could take it anymore.

I held onto his hand for a while, and he stopped squeezing my neck and held me back as his pace started becoming sloppy, and I knew he was close. He moved his other hand on my left breast, groping it and squeezing it through my blouse and bra.

I shut my eyes tight and fought the urge to tap his hand three times to make him stop, decided to only do so if I really couldn’t take it anymore.

However, there was no need for me to do so, because he came down my throat soon after I held his hand, with a loud grunt that sounded heavenly to my ears, and he removed his dick from my mouth, proceeding to probably kneel down and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

If I were his date, and not a mere whore, would’ve he kissed my lips instead?

I took the next few minutes to recover from the intense face-fucking I’ve experienced and let the air slowly make its way back in my lungs, while Charisma grabbed a bed sheet or some other fabric and wiped my face clean with one hand and touching my hair soothingly with his other.

You did a good job. That’s what his touches felt like, and I felt cared for.

After a couple minutes of breathing in and out, I grabbed Charisma’s arm and pulled him towards me, letting him know that I’m ready for whatever he wants us to do next.

He started by pulling me up to sit on my ass so he can take off my blouse and bra with ease, then he palmed my breasts and kissed spots on my neck and collarbones while pinching my nipples softly.

I let a soft whine escape, and he made his way down, riling my skirt up and only removing my panties. He pushed my legs open, and I became aware of how wet I was. He ate me out last time we met as well, and I tried to focus on how good his tongue felt on my clit, and not on the fact that he must’ve considered my lips to be dirtier than my pussy; otherwise, why wouldn’t he want to kiss me?

His tongue moved carefully between my folds. He was experimenting each spot that made me moan, he teased my entrance before moving back to my clit and sucking on it ever so gently, and he seemed to relish on all the sounds I was making, for he let out some small moans as well every time I would clench around nothing.

Two of his fingers brushed my lips and I opened up my mouth again for him to stick them down my throat, covering them in saliva, just so that he could move them against my entrance and explore my insides with them, as if they wouldn’t have slid easily enough with how wet he made me, anyway.

He continued licking up my clit while his fingers curved mercilessly inside of me, grazing the sweet spot inside, driving me over the edge and bringing me to what was probably the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life.

He continued licking me and fucking me with his fingers, and the pleasure started becoming overwhelming, even painful, so I put my hands in his hair and grabbed it as hard as I could, making him move away from me.

He kissed my thighs while I moaned and moaned, trying to get back from my high, then he kissed my lower stomach and made his way up on my body, as if he wanted to kiss me everywhere, to not leave any patch of skin untouched.

Once he was completely on top of me, his dick brushed against my pussy, and I felt how hard he became once again. He kissed the crook of my neck as he pressed his dick inside, and I let out a loud whine, as he didn’t leave me any chance to get used to him inside of me. He started thrusting strongly, earning a loud moan each time he would bottom out inside of me, and I let my head roll down, falling out of the mattress while he was buried in my neck, biting it and sucking on it while fucking me hard.

I felt my second orgasm creep in, and I came loudly, unable to control any sounds coming out of my mouth. Hearing me, Charisma grunted and soon enough I felt his warm release inside of me as well.

He collapsed on top of me, and we just breathed for a little while, together, synchronised, letting our chests rise and fall and touch, our faced hovering mere centimetres away, his lips so closed to mine, his breath against mine so warm. It would’ve been so easy to cross a line, but he specifically asked to not be kissed, and I really wanted to see him again, to have him fill me up and take care of my body’s needs.

Eventually, Charisma moved away from on top of me and guided me in a normal position on the bed, head on his shoulder similar to last time, and started caressing my hair slowly, kissing my forehead, slowly dragging his fingers on my arm, making my skin get goosebumps.

I enjoyed staying like this with him so much, even more than the sex. It felt like we were close, and I let my right hand feel his heartbeat against his chest, and I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The bell sound painfully woke me up from my slumber, indicating that our four hours were over. Reluctantly, I got up from Charisma’s shoulder and sighed, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down, hugging me tightly, before releasing me.

I didn’t want to overthink it too much. He must’ve just been grateful I let him cum down my throat and in my pussy. That’s all.

I made my way out of the room and closed the door behind me, which obviously locked, and the light turned on.

I grabbed the white bathrobe hanging on the shelf in the hallway and went out, heading towards my new room I had to use until Charisma completely left the building.

Once inside the new room, I went straight to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror while taking off the robe. My whole skin was stained with purple marks going from my neck to my breasts and my abdomen, and I traced each of them with my fingers, until I reached the hem of my skirt.

I was still wearing it. Charisma didn’t take it off this time, for some reason.

Seeing myself like that, naked, in only that damn short slutty skirt, covered in love bites, my hair and make-up a mess, and knowing I’ve just been covered in saliva and snot hours prior by some strange man I was meeting for money for the second time already, I really felt like a dirty whore.

Looking in the bathroom mirror was a rude awakening to this fact, and no matter how much I wanted to trick myself into thinking that Charisma’s nice gestures were genuine attraction towards me, my dishevel hair and this short skirt brought me back to Earth.

I was nothing special. I was just a whore.

A nobody.

Dirt.

---

MEETING REVIEW FORM by Charisma

Rate Flame from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Were all your special requirements fulfilled? (Leave empty if not applicable): Thank you for everything, Flame. I felt amazing. Tonight has fulfilled so many of my fantasies. Let’s do it again sometime.

What did you enjoy? -

What should be improved? -

Would you like to tip Flame? (Any amount you write will automatically be deducted from your Card after submitting this form. Leave empty if you don’t wish to tip your host): 300$

Thank you for using our service!

---

MEETING REVIEW FORM by Flame

Rate the interaction with the customer from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Did the customer fulfil your special requirements? -

Tip received – 300$: Thank you once again for the tip, Charisma, and I’m glad to learn that you felt good tonight. I loved sucking you off, and you can fuck my throat anytime. We definitely have to do it again and let me know if there’s any other fantasies you want fulfilled. I’d be glad to be the one to fulfil them for you xx❤️

---

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

[fitzrove]

(if you're still doing these!) 3, 8, 34 for the ask meme?

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

Oaghh this is actually a tricky question!! But maybe I do know how to answer...

The Cat Returns (Studio Ghibli / Hiroyuki Morita)

It's my #1 comfort movie haha. I used to watch it with my sister when we were little, more so than any other Ghibli film (I did grow up with them and liked a lot of them - but I have to admit: I've never understood the appeal of Totoro specifically, I still think it's overrated hfhfjfj). Apparently it's widely considered to be a less good movie than the others, partly because Miyazaki wasn't that involved in it, but I think it's amazing. Also, I saw Whisper of the Heart (the one it's a spin off of) as an adult and didn't like it at all ajdjfkfk. The music, the worldbuilding/aesthetic, the (sometimes very eccentric) Finnish dub and the inherent whimsicalness of the story are very nostalgic and fun for me, and I've always loved cats, so :D

2. LOTR trilogy

It's cheating haha but putting all three under one heading. I've gone to a cinematic back-to-back marathon event of the extended edition... It took 12 hours and was one of the best moviegoing experiences of my life xD I feel like once you've done that, you're at a point where you can definitely say you're not going to get bored of it. I mean, I've been known to dip to get more snacks during some sequences (particular non-favourite is Shelob - not for any lack of fondness for spiders btw, I just find it a bit tedious as an action scene and it's at a point in the story where I'd rather be Moving On), but overall I really love these films - the story, the world, the characters, the music, the sheer amount of effort and care that went into making them and how it really shows >:]

3. POTO 2004

<333 Favourite musical film hahahahahah. I know this is controversial, but for me personally it's in some aspects even more fulfilling than seeing the show in the theatre. My favourite part/character of the show and book is and has always been the opera house!!!! I looooove theatres and theatre backstage stuff, especially big fancy old opera houses, and the movie is very immersively costumed and staged (set?). I don't watch it often (in full anyway - I rewatch the Carlotta scenes semi-often though), but I feel like if I was strapped to a chair and made to, I would just be vibing.

8. any reoccurring dreams?

I've only had one (1) actually repeated dream in my life, where it played out the same beat-for-beat as if watching the same VHS tape again, first when I was about 5 and again when I was maybe 7 years old - a weird Disney pastiche of Aladdin and The Little Mermaid haha. Repeating themes are more common. My least favourite of those was when my mental health was at its absolute lowest in my life during high school, and for around too months I kept dying in different kinds of highly specific ww2-related circumstances 😭😭 (I don't know if I started reading survivor stories too young - around the age of 10 or so...) ANYWAY yeah haha, not many specific reoccurring dreams. I wish I could repeat the one or two times in my life when I've dreamed about flying, it was a lot of fun >:]

34. any pet peeves?

Too many - I feel like half my tumblr posts are about these xD

One big one rn is that many German theatres don't let you book your tickets in just one step. They make you put in all your info and pick a seat and everything, and only then (after a 5-10 minute delay) do they send an email asking to transfer the money to secure your booking. Well, I was meant to go somewhere tomorrow, but turns out I never remembered to send the money in time and have lost my seat :----) It's okay haha it's going to thunder and rain tomorrow anyway, I'll just stay in my hometown and go see something here later lol...