#LOOK THEY'RE EMBARKABLE
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darkwood-sleddog · 1 year ago
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when somebody on reddit is arguing with me about sled dog genetics, saying alaskans aren't a true type of dog and are just a mutt:
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years ago
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[From beta wiki and The Red King novel respectively] Don’t let nine year olds run off into the desert and embark on rituals after their alien dogs die!! That’s honestly parenting 101 
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pennielane · 2 years ago
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lord help me find the perfect pair of mom jeans amen
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taeyongdoyoung · 3 months ago
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chase and attract
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summary: your best friend decides to fulfil yet another one of your freaky shared fantasies... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: cnc/primal play, chasing in a forest, public indecency but there are no witnesses, fingering, finger-sucking, doggystyle, unprotected sex, praise, degradation, reader wants to use the safeword but doesn't, reader experiences subdrop, insecurities, crying, aftercare, pet names, the word daddy is mentioned but after they're done having sex, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: hello hello, this is the second part of my wolf & bunny series, i think i'll write one more to tie up the loose ends 🤍 part one & part three word count: 1.7k
After a number of discussions and precautions, you and Chan are finally ready to embark on your next sexscapade. He's reassured you multiple times that he knows the forest well enough that you won't get lost and as a safety measure, he brought a compass and his phone. You purposefully leave yours in his car to further heighten the feeling of danger you two had in mind.
“Are you ready?” Chan asks you gently.
“Kinda. I'm really nervous, Chris,” you confess, your hands shaking in your lap as you are still sitting in the passenger seat.
“Remember that you can stop this at any moment, right?” he reminds you sweetly.
“I know that,” you sigh. “But I want this, I really do.”
“Okay, then, there's nothing to be nervous about. You know I'll keep you safe. Always, yeah?”
You nod, trusting him completely, despite how insane this whole thing might sound to a stranger. You are fully aware that Chan has your best interest at heart.
“I'll give you a five-minute headstart this time,” he sets the timer on his phone. “Ready, set...go!”
You dash out of his car faster than ever and speed through the forest. You've got this. Last time your stupid legs gave out due to being in a box for too long but now you've trained for this moment for a week and you feel confident enough that you'll have a blast. Sure, you know that the point of this game is for Chan to eventually catch you. And boy, do you look forward to that moment. But the more you run, the more your heart will jump out, the more thrilled you feel.
You begin to lose track of time as you go deeper and deeper into the forest. Have five minutes already passed? You don't hear Chan's footsteps so either he hasn't started chasing you yet or he's going in another direction. Whatever the explanation, you keep running even though you're beginning to lose your breath. How much longer? You still don't hear him and you are in desperate need of a break. You should have brought a bottle of water. But carrying something like that would only slow you down. You're thinking too much again. You just want him to catch you already and fuck you until you can no longer think. Truly the best feeling in the world.
Finally, you hear leaves rustling. You don't hear his voice but you know he's getting near. Shit, what if it's someone else? No, that can't be it. Chan made sure that people rarely walk this path and it would only be the two of you. Still, you're terrified at the thought of someone other than Chan catching you. The mere suggestion of that is enough to send speed to your muscles and make you faster.
But all good things must come to an end (or maybe the good things are just about to begin...) and you are engulfed by a pair of strong arms. Before you can react or try to fight your attacker off, he's pressing his hand against your mouth.
“Shhh, don't scream,” Chan's voice is both a comfort and a threat, sending mixed signals to your core.
“Mmpf,” you struggle to make some kind of noise but it comes out muffled against his rough hand.
“This will all be easier if you don’t fight it,” Chan says soothingly and you shake your head in disagreement.
He momentarily removes his hand from your lip.
“Please, somebody help me!” you scream loud enough to paint the scene more vividly but not loud enough to actually attract attention in case a stranger passes by some forest. Which honestly seems impossible at this point. Chan really picked a very secluded trail.
“No one’s gonna hear you, sweetheart. And even if they did, do you think they’d help you? Silly little bun, you brought this on yourself walking in the forest all alone, wearing this dress…”
Fuck, why is he so good at this? You try not to wonder if he’s had prior experience with such a scenario or he simply just has great imagination to come up with such lines.
“Please, don’t do this,” you pretend to be afraid as your best friend pushes you on your knees and situates himself behind you. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Why not? I’ll fuck you so good you’ll want to brag about it,” Chan chuckles coldly and sticks his thick fingers inside your pussy unexpectedly.
“Nnghh,” you cry out and are beginning to lose energy of all the running and no longer feel like faking it, letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.
“See? You’re all wet for me, so obviously you’re enjoying it,” Chan gathers the evidence of your satisfaction with his fingers and pushes them into your mouth.
You don’t need an order to know what to do as you lick them clean of your arousal.
“Fuuuck, good girl,” Chan praises you and briefly breaks character, stroking your hair gently.
Oh, shit. You think you’re falling for your best friend. But such thoughts will only bring complications, especially in the current context, so you push them down as much as you can.
Chan makes sure you’re wet enough by mercilessly stroking your pussy and finally, fuck, sweet finally, enters you from behind with his cock.
“N-no, d-don’t do this,” you scream and try to escape his strong grasp but of course, it’s no use.
“Such a useless slut, only good for fucking and nothing more.”
The degrading words sting but you’re trying not to dwell on it too much.
“So fucking wet for a stranger. Disgusting,” he says.
Fuck, this hurts. Not the cock stretching you out to the fullest but what he’s saying. Is it really true?
You want to say the safeword. But you also don’t. By the time you make up your mind, Chan has already painted your walls white and you are also coming with a shudder, loudly and devastatingly.
You feel broken. Bad broken. You want to go home and cry and sleep and eat ice cream. What went wrong? You were having such a great time. So why are you suddenly having such dark thoughts? And not dark in the sexy way…
Chan picks you up gently and checks up on you.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, I just want to go home,” you respond briefly.
He nods, quietly wondering if he did something wrong or if he’s just imagining the sad, empty look in your pretty eyes.
Chan helps you walk back to his car and makes sure you drink water and cleans you up to the best of his abilities with some tissues he prepared in advance.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again as he parks the car in front of you place. “You haven’t said a word during the whole ride. Usually you have funny stories to share and…”
“Gee, sorry for not always being the class clown, I guess,” you snap at him angrily with an eyeroll.
“Okay, don’t give me that attitude,” Chan scolds you gently but firmly. “If we want to do this healthily, you gotta communicate with me. If I did something wrong or if you felt uncomfortable at any point.”
You shake your head, still in denial.
“If you don’t wanna talk, I won’t force you. But you gotta remember that you mean the world to me, yeah? Even if these games end, I need to have my best friend in my life, am I clear?”
You blink and finally gather the courage to look at him.
“I’m sorry, Chris,” you admit and burst into tears.
He pulls you into a hug and pats your back.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Well, the truth is I wasn’t all that into it when you said that thing about me being useless, only good for fucking and disgusting,” you confess.
“Oh, babygirl, you know I don’t mean these things. I only said them ‘cause you mentioned you’re into degradation.”
“I was, I mean, I am, but for some reason, it really hurt me this time, sorry. I should have said. I just don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“Alright, first of all, stop saying sorry, it’s completely normal to get caught up in it and feel insecure sometimes. As a dom, I should have been more careful and checked up on you more frequently. And second of all, please, remember that you are very smart, sweet, funny and not to mention incredibly beautiful so there is no way in hell I think lowly of you. Now, did you put that down in your pretty brain of yours?”
“Yes, sir,” you answer enthusiastically and your tears have dried up, instead a bright smile appears on your face. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Just next time if you happen feel like that, say the safeword and talk to me. About anything, I mean it.”
“You too, Chris. I know that’s particularly hard for you to open up but whatever you tell me, I would never judge you.”
“I know, babygirl,” Chan chuckles softly and does something that further confuses the already blurred lines of your friendship. He kisses you on the lips, deeply and sweetly. Not like how you kiss your best friend but how you kiss a lover.
“Do you want…to come inside?” you offer, not knowing what exactly, considering you just ended a very overwhelming scene.
Actually, you know what you want. You want him to hold you, to watch a dumb movie and eat popcorn together. You want…more than you can have.
“I gotta get some work done,” Chan says with a wince. “I’m really behind on stuff.”
“Is it…my fault?”
“No way. I just can’t stop thinking of…our games even when I’m supposed to be working,” he admits.
Phew. You’re glad he didn’t say he can’t stop thinking of you. If he had, you wouldn’t be able to let him go to work.
“Right. Same here,” you reply dumbly.
“If you need anything and I mean, anything, just give me a call or a text. I’ll keep my phone nearby.”
“You really shouldn’t, I’ll keep annoying you,” you mumble self-consciously.
Chan grips your hand and squeezes it comfortingly.
“You could never annoy me, okay?”
“Okay, daddy,” you say it playfully, eliciting a giggle out of his beautiful mouth.
“Do you have any particular wishes for…you know, next time?”
“I do, but it’s kinda mild compared to what we’ve done already,” you shrug. “Dunno if you’d be into it.”
“Name it and it’s yours,” Chan assures you.
“How do you feel about…fucking me while I’m asleep?”
To be continued…
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slasherscream · 10 months ago
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Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they
warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
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Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 
You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.
But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.
It was love at first sight on her part.
You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.
You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.
You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.
She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.
Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.
Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.
It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."
Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.
But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...
Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.
She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.
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Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid
You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.
Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.
It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.
Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?
They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.
Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.
They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.
Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.
They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.
You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.
"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.
"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.
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Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive
As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.
Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.
You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.
It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.
Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.
Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.
Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.
Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.
Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.
It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.
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Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy
She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.
Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?
Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.
You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.
The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.
She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."
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Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless
Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.
But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.
You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.
You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.
Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.
She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.
You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.
So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.
"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."
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Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,
Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.
She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.
She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."
She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.
She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.
It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.
She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.
Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.
Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.
When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?
"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"
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krazyyyyyy · 6 months ago
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Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader
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Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You
Warnings: Mentions of violence
Words: 2553
Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.
Hope you enjoy this short story <3
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Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.
Well, all the kids but one…
A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.
He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.
A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?
 She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?” 
Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”
Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.
The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.
Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.
The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.
Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.
He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.
Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end
“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.
“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.
“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.
Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.
Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.
Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.
The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.
It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…
Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.
“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.
“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.
“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.
The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.
“Shit!”  Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result. 
Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.
Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.
“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.
They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.
“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.
Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”
 Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.
“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.
“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…
He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”
“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.
“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.
He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.
“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!” 
Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”
“Yeah!” They cheer.
Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”
They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.
A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”
“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.
Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.
Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.
~
Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.
Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.
He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.
But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.
After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.
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pricegouge · 17 days ago
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Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)
part two
masterlist | taglist: pricegouged
babysitter!reader x single dad!price
cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. daddy kink. MDNI
Banner by @/cafekitsune
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Chapter two
Three weeks later and you don't quite know what's happened, or who you even are anymore. You're waspish and short, run ragged between classes and the two families you've somehow managed to become employed for. They're nice enough to coordinate between themselves, most nights - Kate reaching out with a schedule the two of them have agreed on that lets you manage both kids at once. That doesn't mean they can always get their kids under the same roof for you, their schedules always too full to manage the drive across town. As if yours is any better.
The tentative routine you've fallen into is easy enough on paper, attending morning class before heading over to the Laswell's and doing most of your classwork there, even attending an online lesson once a week because Colin is a little angel who can remain calm as long as you are, but it all goes pretty much to shit the second you embark to pick up Emily from preschool around midafternoon, loading Colin into the carseat the Laswells very generously bought for you. 
(Between the fact that it stays belted into your car twentyfour seven now because you don't trust yourself to reinstall it properly without the weirdly mechanical tests John used to ensure its safety when he set it up the first time and the fact that Colin can occasionally be heard cooing in the background of your more interactive lessons, there's definitely a rumor going around campus that you have a baby. You're not sure how you feel about it, but it does tend to keep the more annoying boys at arm's length so you haven't really gone out of your way to correct it quite yet. Emily's booster gets stored in your trunk, though. You don't quite want to know what kind of leper you'd become if your classmates thought you'd been on Sixteen and Pregnant.) 
The girl is… tougher. Well behaved but boisterous, moody at times. Her rambunctiousness is infectious, gets Colin worked up from the confines of his seat in a way he doesn't usually wind down from for hours while Emily prattles on about her day and waves glittery crafts at you, leaving your car looking like a bad drag hangover, still-tacky finger paints smearing like lipstick stains on your upholstery. 
(This is why Emily's booster stays in the trunk, there's already enough misleading evidence all over your car.)
(This is why John doesn't pick up his own daughter, you're fairly sure, and you've half a mind to install a glitter bomb in his glove box as revenge.)
You don't always have to watch the girl, John's evening schedule an unfixed thing, but Emily always seems excited to see you pulling up, as if she knows that her father works even when he's home. It's why you try to stay patient with her when her boundless energy riles the baby up, or when her incessant need for attention prevents you from finishing papers on time. It's not her fault, but it is slowly driving you insane.
Gina helps out when she can, usually bringing dinner for everyone when she stops by the Price's to pick up her kid in the early evening. Sometimes she even stays for a bit, helps keep Emily entertained while you streamline the bedtime routine with hopes of finishing up homework after she tucks in for the night. It's a valiant effort made by all, but the girl doesn't often play along, much too busy antagonizing you to bother showering in a timely manner. There are nights you think of her more like a little sister than a client, the way she picks on you. You feed it right back in your darker hours, when having every minute of your day planned out and consumed weighs on you, giving you teeth. You'd made her cry once by mistake, your tone more than your words themselves needling under her skin until she burst into tears, hid in her room until her father came home. There'd been an odd sense of relief to it, balancing out the panic of a bad review. Sure, you'd be fired and no one would want to hire you ever again if John used that one app where you got most of your odd jobs, but at least the Laswells wouldn't give you up and you could return to your regular schedule. But when Mr. Price got home that evening, he'd only listened to his whiny daughter with a soft smile, kissing her on the forehead before telling you both that he 'Wished his girls would get along.'
You can see where Emily gets it from, her ability to drive you insane, but where the girl is loud and prickly or candy-sweet by turns, a constant one man crew of Guess Who, her father is a steady, low stream abrading you, the funnel where he slips through your cells eroding until he's a constant bubbling under your skin. He's incorrigible, insidious, shameless. 
Escalating, lock step with you.
You still haven't returned his shirt. Well, technically you had - once. Worn it that Wednesday, the first time he'd asked you back. You'd done it with every intention of teasing him a little, noting you'd need a replacement if he wanted it back now, and changing out of it before leaving for the night. He'd turned it on your head with a simple 'You could always just take it off,' before you'd even been able to reveal your plan to give it back to him. 
He should have expected you to retaliate after that, returning home with it once more. It's remained safe in your dresser ever since, one less avenue for him to come barrelling down the center of, catching you in his headlights like a deer too scared to run. And if keeping it means you get to wear it to bed sometimes, so be it. That's his fault, too, always texting you so late to 'make sure you got back okay.' It's possible he's being gentlemanly, but that would be a first so you refuse to believe it, assume instead that he wants to make you think of him when you're climbing into bed each night. Like you need the help, like you haven't already worn the scent off his shirt. Sometimes you think about weaseling another one from him, or wonder how long it would take him to notice if you outright stole one. You know which room is his, have caught glimpses through the cracked door sometimes when following Emily up to her room. He never shuts it, too trusting. You probably would've already gotten yourself off on his pillow like a bitch in heat if he hadn't let slip early on that Emily sometimes likes to sleep in his bed when he's away. 'Think she misses me sometimes,' his voice was sad but the leer he gave you as he continued was anything but. 'She's allowed, if she wants.'
The next day he mentioned Emily falls asleep quickest when someone lies down with her to read her story. Your papers continue going unwritten, the girl wandering out of her bedroom late into the night because you refuse to start the habit when you know how it will end.
It's unsustainable, feels like you're circling the drain. But the money is great. 
While the Laswells had never been stingy, John pays you like a dental surgeon each time he needs you. That same exorbitant rate from the first night, now with a prepaid gas card he seems very uninterested in monitoring the spending of. You'd be tempted to test your theory if you had time, take a road trip out to your parents or something just to see if it ever got declined. Sometimes you fantasize about it at night, texting him an SOS and a picture of your gas gauge on E. It's embarrassing how often he shows up to save the day in your daydreams now, racing to your side in his gleaming Lexus to refuel your car with a suggestive smile, working the nozzle past your intake valve like he's slipping into a wet cunt. 
You should probably get laid, but who has the time? Especially given your… situation. 
(Your situation being there is no situation. Never has been one. Virginal as the day you were born save for some over-the-pants heavy petting in high school and a rotation of cheap drug store vibes you usually end up abandoning for your own fingers because dear god, you'd think you'd have learned after the first wasted investment but up until now, with John's much needed help, you haven't really been in a position to just spend on sex toys all willy nilly and while yeah, sure, you are now, every time you go to spend his money on an imitation cock you can't help thinking might look like his, you suddenly remember you're only here because you can't put your big girl panties on and -.)
It takes time, is the problem. You don't need the whole blanket under the stars treatment, but you at least want some evidence that you're not going to get jackhammered into the mattress by some selfish, overeager boy who wouldn't know how to get you off if you gave him a manual. But evidence takes time to gather, takes meetups in frat parties you have no interest in attending, and makeout sessions smelly couches just to see if your partner knows how to use their tongue. And for all his provisions, John (John.) has made well and truly certain that the one thing you don't have, is in fact time.
>Need you tonight.
The vibration of your phone against the library desk is loud as a gunshot, the message itself ringing in your ears just as bad. You placed your phone back on the table and sent your deskmate, a handsome senior named Paul who'd been your unofficial Saturday morning library pal for the last two semesters, an apologetic glance.
Paul just waved his hand at you dismissively, a small smile tugging at his lips. With his head bowed into his fourth edition of a rather intimidating neuroscience textbook that gave you anxiety just looking at it, the only way you could tell he wasn't annoyed by your antics at all was the dimpling of his cheeks. It distracted you momentarily, the urge to nibble at the fat there sudden and overwhelming, then your phone vibrated again because you'd been too distracted to silence it and you snatched it back up with an annoyed huff, ready to tell your employer off about disturbing your Sacred Saturday, your one day off a week. 
(Again.)
> I know what day it is but it's an emergency.
> I'll make it up to you.
< how so?
You chew your lip waiting for a response, the bubbling typing indicator roiling like your stomach. It's always like this, texting with John - every response teetering on too much. It's why you usually prefer to coordinate with the Laswells as much as possible, minimizing your discussions with Mr. Price to those late night 'Did you make it home okay?' messages. 
(And sending him a photo evidence that his shirt was still safe and in your care once.
If you'd been wearing it at the time, snuggled up in bed and haloed in warm fairy lights with the hem riding a little high, that was his fault for asking after it so late.)
Tap, tap, tap.
Across from you, Paul drums his pen off the spiral notebook that sits between you, a custom since your third week sitting together. It's blank aside from your brief, handwritten conversations as far as you can tell, an accessory Paul seems to carry around for this express purpose, evidently preferable to just asking for your number so you can text each other to get around the strict no talking policy in the quietest lounge of the library. In the year or so since you've met him, you've never heard Paul talk, all of your correspondences reduced to the notebook which he draws your attention to now, his tidy scrawl asking a simple but damning question: 'Who's the guy?'
You shake your head, instinctual - automatic. Paul crooks an unimpressed brow at you and underlines his original question. 
'Just some guy I work for, why?'
Paul smirks when he reads it but turns serious in response, waving at your overall demeanor as if that answers everything.
In your palm, your phone gives a muted buzz and you have to physically swallow back the urge to check it immediately. You roll your eyes at Paul instead. A poor excuse for the frustration you want to unleash, but opening the valve even a hair was better than just letting it build.
His scrawl is neat when Paul responds. Unaffected, calm. 'You've got a crush.' And then below that, its own paragraph: 'Should I be worried?'
It takes a moment for the words to register, the moment dragging out too long before your eyes dart up to your deskmate. Paul winks, scheming and sly, and your jaw hinges open in shock.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.
"Shit," you hiss, scrambling out of your seat as your phone continues to vibrate with an incoming call. John's contact lights the screen, the stupid money bag emoji you'd used for him mocking you. You wait until you make it to the stairwell to answer to avoid the worst of the librarian's wrath, though she still shoots you a disapproving glare as you stalk past her post. You've half a mind to let the stairwell door slam behind you, but it would echo louder than your anger and you want John to hear every word when you accept the call.
"I am at the library," you hiss by way of greeting, as if that perfectly illustrates why you're so annoyed with him.
John just grunts, uninterested. "Are you available or not tonight? I need an answer ASAP so I can make plans if you're -."
"I'm off on Saturdays."
A beat passes as John recollects, evidently unused to being interrupted. "Right. Which is why I offered to pay you double your regular rate."
Confused, you check your texts to read the one you'd missed, too busy being chatted up by a cute boy much more appropriately aged. In it, John pleads desperately with you: offers twice your pay, dinner, anything you want.
You think of Paul's cute dimples, the way he's known you for a year without asking for your number. You think of John covered in shaving cream, his first words to you a joke about how desperate you looked - how desperate you both looked.
Hand pressed to your forehead, you shut your eyes and ask what time John needs you.
"Oh, thank you so much, sweetheart. A real lifesaver. I promise I'll make it up to you, just tell me how, okay? And as for tonight, no later than seventeen hundred, please - though honestly you can come by anytime, I'm sure Emily will be happy to see you."
Emily. Right. "Well I'm at the library for a reason, so -."
"You can use my study, of course. The munchkin knows better than to bug me when I'm in there."
Unbidden, you imagine pestering John yourself when he's lounged in some fancy modern desk chair, leather and broad. You bet his study smells like tobacco, that there's a bar cart in the corner. You imagine him using your mouth like a tumbler of whiskey, punishment for running it too much. He'd drink from your lips whenever he -.
"But I suppose I don't have all those useful resources like textbooks… well, consider it a standing offer."
"S-sure, Mr. Price. Thanks."
"Of course. I'll see you later, then?"
"Yes, sir."
On the other end of the line, John's breath stutters. His voice is low when he signs off, blunt and direct. Doesn't wait to hear your response. "Be good, sweetheart."
***
You're not entirely sure what being good constitutes, but you're fairly sure using John's emergency credit card Emily located for you in the freezer to Instacart approximately one day's minimum wage worth of junk food because Emily had been sad and despondent all day wasn't it. Nor was letting her dance her sugar rush off to less than appropriate music, probably, but it was worth it to see her smiling again after the fit she'd thrown when her father had left for the evening. You're both sweaty and breathless now, collapsing onto the couch between songs to shovel more M&Ms into your mouths and make fun of each other's dance moves. Emily says you use too much arm movements, but she's only four and thinks hopscotch skips are the new craze so you ask what she knows anyway and laugh at the way she rolls her eyes at you.
John's talkative too, apparently, the unexpected clients he'd been urgently called in to entertain evidently not holding his attention. He's never exactly radio silent when you've got his kid in your charge, but he usually lets you take the lead (pepper him with stupid questions you already know the answer to just to find an excuse to distract him because maybe you kinda like how short he gets) on those nights.
(Despite this standard, you don't feel the need to tell him you'd managed to read his credit card number through the brick of crystalline ice he'd cleverly hidden it in. You hope he's really short when he figures that stunt out.)
Tonight, however, it's John peppering you with questions. They start out innocent enough, asking after his daughter because he felt bad leaving her on a night that he'd promised to be home and he could see how much it upset her. Those questions peter out when you send him a picture of her all giggly and wound up, her hair freshly braided in a style she said he's too clumsy to accomplish for her. With confirmation that his daughter was feeling better, John's texts turn rapidly back to you.
> And how about you, sweetheart? Are you doing better?
< wym, better?
> What do you mean, wym?
< har har
> I mean you were rather short with me earlier. Are you still upset with me?
> I promise I also don't want to be working on a Saturday, for what it's worth.
< not mad
< just seems like you're not really needed with how much you're blowing up my phone
> Honestly, no. This is a waste of both our time.
> Have you decided how I can make it up to you, at least?
Actually, you hadn't even thought of it, figuring he was just being exaggerative - that he'd pay you your exorbitant rate and be done with it, send you on your way with your thoughts all twisted after some more growled insinuations and a pat on your ass, probably. He seemed like he was maybe two visits away from trying his luck, anyway.
Maybe you could ask for it sooner. Clear the air, finally feel his hands on you. You tell him you don't want anything, clarify nothing he can give you when he calls that out for being a lie.
> Sure about that? I can help with most things.
And the thing is, he's right. There are a lot of things you want. You want to get a better grade on your next econ assignment, you want a full night's sleep. You want to have free time, pick up a hobby. You have a growing desire to learn how to make the perfect pasta after seeing her scarf so many lackluster take out spaghetti bolognaise dishes. The solution was obvious, though one you knew he wouldn't want to hear.
< okay. i want more free time
> So quit with the Laswells.
It draws you up short, Emily bouncing around you unawares. It's one thing to suspect John's - your - end game, but another thing to see it batted around so casually. It makes you feel taken advantage of, guided in a way you don't necessarily appreciate. The Laswells were your first real, well-paying gig, your ticket to independence. You didn't relish the thought of abandoning them and you certainly didn't like to be coerced into the decision. 
But John did pay very well.
< just like that?
John's answer is far too quick, the status changing directly from read to answered with a speed that suggested he may have had a response drafted already which he simply copy/pasted. 
> It would make the most sense. I can pay well enough to make up for the lost income, plus my schedule works better with your classes. 
> Honestly, I'm surprised you even lasted as long as you did with them.
< i wouldn't want to let them down…
> Nonsense, I'm sure they'd understand. You're a busy girl with a full schedule, afterall.
So were they - the whole reason you'd been working for them so long. 
< i don't think i could quit on them. kate scares me.
> I'll take care of Kate, okay? No need to worry. I owe you one anyway, remember?
>Just let Daddy handle it.
It takes you a minute, the words somehow too natural to trip you up. Before you, Emily screeches happily about some cartoon that's maybe a touch too old for her and you think to yourself that she's going to sleep good tonight, all tuckered out as you know she's going to be and then you nearly drop your phone in your rush to chastise him, or run your mouth like you always do, or maybe double down on your request.
But the words don't come. Every time you manage to string two whole thoughts together it peters out, the textual manifestation of the gaping anime gasp he's managed to draw from you as you imagine him watching your typing bubbles appear and fizzle over and over again. If he's watching, of course, but he's a busy man so maybe -.
This time when your phone buzzes, there's no threat of a scolding librarian to keep your yelp suppressed. Just the odd look Emily shoots you before being distracted by her brightly colored show again, turning away from you disinterestedly as you excuse yourself to the kitchen.
"Mr. Price?"
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
"S- sorry?"
His voice is calmer when he repeats himself, the same tone he uses on his daughter when she's too fidgety to listen. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"
And that answer is easy because the flutter in your tummy you get whenever his words grow a little too overt is not discomfort, so the answer comes easily, if quietly. "No."
"Do you want me to stop?"
Through the fog of your fluster, you remember Paul and his glacial pace, the cat calls from boys you've never met before and have no interest in. This is different. This is good. "No."
The breath John lets out doesn't sound like he's been holding it, more a pleased sigh than anything, accompanied by a low hum. "Good girl. Appreciate you telling me. Is this something you want?"
"I just said -?"
"Not wanting me to stop and wanting something to follow through to its logical conclusion are not the same things. Is this something you want?"
The question grates - the notion that he would think of this all as a waste of time if you didn't know you wanted him, maybe. "Hadn't thought about it. You only just -," You counter vehemently, but John just laughs, a heavy burst of breath through his nose. It catches in his mustache - wind cutting through the grass.
"If I were to come home tonight to find you sleeping on my couch and decided to wake you up all sweetly and softly, would that be alright?"
You picture yourself sleep-soft and pliant, heavy hands soothing over your flank as John's rough voice coaxes you awake. "Yes," you breathe.
He hums approvingly. "And if I were to wake you with my tongue in your cunt, would that be too much?"
"John -!" you hiss, scandalized.
"Try again."
A beat passes where you try to smother the pit of nerves in your stomach. "Mr. Price."
"Better. Answer the question, sweetheart."
"Mr. Price, I -." You huff a breath, take advantage of the fact he can't see you to visibly straighten your spine, steel yourself. "Mr. Price, what do you want?"
He doesn't miss a beat. "Easy. I've wanted to bend you over every available surface since you first barged into my bathroom and hinged yourself over that sink."
"I didn't."
"I want to keep that clever little mouth of yours quiet by stuffing it full of my cock. But I also want to hear you complain about what a brat my daughter's been all night because you're cute when you're mad. I want to come home and know what the two of you grabbed for dinner by licking it off your teeth." He pauses to give you an opening, notes your silence, and continues in a much softer voice. "And I want you to be able to focus on school a little better."
You can't manage anything better than a soft oh, and John's responding laugh is a low rumble, voice deceptively soft when he continues - the same voice he uses on Emily when she's too tired to behave properly. You wonder if his colleagues can hear him again, wonder if that's just how he's going to speak to you regardless.
"The question, sweetheart."
"I would like that, Mr. Price."
John's silent in the beat that passes, a hinge creaking open spilling ambient chatter in the background. He'd been sequestered, which means that last tone was only meant for you. "I'll see you tonight, kiddo. Behave for Daddy, yeah?"
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anne-bsd-bibliophile · 7 months ago
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"You can't go around judging people on first impressions. That's how mistakes get made." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders
"The police investigate footprints and look for fingerprints. I take the results of these investigations and by piecing together all the available information logically, I am able to reach a conclusion. Those are my methods of deduction." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders
"The Killer had submitted the problem of a locked room murder and dared us to solve it. It was going to be a battle of wits. Perfect. Challenge accepted! If it was brains and logic and wit that were required, I was ready to do battle." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders
"In our world there are some things so dreadful, so terrifying that you would scarcely believe they existed. They are things that common sense and accepted practice would dictate are impossible, but they do exist. Out of reason... that's right. It's a mad state of affairs." - Yokomizo Seishi, Death on Gokumon Island
"Yet, while his unchanging gratitude and devotion to the priest's family were certainly commendable, Sahei failed to realize that everything - even gratitude - has a limit that should not be exceeded, and that his excessive gratitude toward the Nonomiya family would embroil his own kin in a series of bloody murders after his death." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse
"Thirty years can weave strange patterns in the tapestry of life." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse
"With the blind spot that had been hindering his thought process finally removed, everything had fallen into place for him with great speed. All day yesterday, he had been stacking building blocks of deductive reasoning in his mind, with the result that now he had reproduced the entire complex structure of the mystery." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse
"Were it not for the events that I am about to relate, doubtless my life would have continued in that impoverished, humdrum vein. But one day a spot of red was suddenly split on the grey of my life: I embarked on an adventure of dazzling mystery and stepped into a world of blood-chilling terror." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves
"Nothing is more frightening in this world than ignorance and stupidity." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves
"The events I am about to describe are filled with such darkness and sadness, are so cursed and hate-filled, that not a word I write can possibly offer the faintest glimmer of hope or relief. Even as the author, I cannot predict what the final sentence will be, but I fear that the relentless dread and darkness that precede it may end up overcoming the readers and crush their very spirits in its grasp." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders
"Everyone here is a bit twisted somehow. All they feel for each other is suspicion, resentment and fear. I couldn't tell you why that is. It's as if they're all just waiting for their chance to stick the knife in. As if they think that if they don't, then they'll be on the other end of the blade." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders
Yokomizo Seishi has also been added to the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library!
You can find more information about Yokomizo-sensei on the following pages: List of Books in English Quotes and Facts Collection Fun Facts Author Connections
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p1utofairy · 1 year ago
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PAC: “you just like my sidekick, i just wanna ride…fulfill all your desires.” ♾️🕊️🖤
• what will the courting stage be like?
disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. hope you all enjoy! p.s. don't be afraid to submit me your thoughts on my pacs.
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pile 1 💒 —
hiii pile 1 welcome to your reading! right away i'm already hearing that you and your person share similar values and morals in the sense of how a relationship should be built on honesty, loyalty and trust. your person is veryyy traditional like when you two go out together, they'll want to treat you. or if you see something you really like they'll go out of their way to make sure you have it. they'll have a strong urge to provide for you, and at first you might be a little wary of this because you don't want them thinking that you need them for everything or that you'll become co-dependent (but that's not the case at all) they just want you to know that they'll always be there for you; if you need them. as you start getting to know them more, i think you'll be more open to being spontaneous and embarking on a fresh and exciting journey with them. i feel like you're a bit guarded/protective of your heart and although you really want this relationship with them…the fact that you'll be so open and vulnerable scares you. fear not, pile 1. be willing to embrace the unknown because your person is going to value and appreciate you so much! i just heard "like the royalty you are." OKAYYYY! let it happen by tame impala is coming to mind, "just let it happen, let it happen." exactly, just relax and don't self-sabotage! your person is very secure and reliable, i feel so much comfort in this connection. when you two go on dates i can see them intently listening and giving you such intense eye contact, like they're just soaking up your every word. i can see them squishing your cheeks randomly hehe i also pick up that there will be a great balance of giving and receiving, (physical touch and receiving gifts might be their love language) ugh you two are going to make each other so happy. you both have very youthful energies, it's sooo cute. whenever you are in each other's presence it's gonna feel like it's just you two, the rest of the world will become background noise. i see a lot of goofing around, them brushing the hair out of your eyes and just staring at you all lovingly…kissing your cheeks/neck just to hear you laugh. i just heard "you make it so easy to love you." AWWW. they're almost like a love sick puppy, i can't lie. love is gonna be so evident in their eyes whenever they look at you. i can see you two just laying together…everything is quiet and still & you just trace your fingers gently over their eyes, lips and nose and they have this cute sleepy smile on their face. i'm hearing you're the "okokokok" part of see you again by tyler the creator ft. kali uchis and they're the "lalalalala" lmfaooo that's so random but so damn cute.
other channeled messages:
sitting on a park bench, get you by daniel caesar ft. kali uchis, golden hour pictures, nasa by ariana grande, floral printed dress, pisces mercury, gemini venus, riding bikes together, just the two of us by grover washington ft. bill withers
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pile 2 💐 —
heyyy pile 222 ⭐️ ooo the lovey dovey vibes are REAL omg your person loves to love you! if they could roll out a red carpet for you to walk on every time y'all step out together…they would. it's gonna surprise you how much they pay attention to little details about you so that they can surprise you with cute (i'm also hearing lavish) gifts! however, i feel like you might hold out on them in the beginning or make them sort of wait for your attention? some of you could have never been in a relationship before or have been single for a long time, and the connection is going to feel foreign at first. you're going to be navigating some pretty complex feelings/emotions but this person is willing to wait and accommodate whatever you need, even if it is space. your person is used to taking action right away, so taking a steady approach to building this connection with you will be a good balance for them. once things start moving along you'll really understand how deep their feelings are for you lol they're very direct and will not hesitate to make it known. your person has strong fire sign/leo energy whereas some of you that chose this pile give water sign vibes. when you initially meet them you may think to yourself "psh, we wouldn't work." because you two are a bit different in terms of personality, but if anything that'll draw you closer together. summer renaissance by beyoncé is playing and i can hear "it's so good, it's so good, it's so good, it's so good, it's sooooo gooood." yeah you're gonna fold pile 2 LMAOOOOO you can't resist them! i feel like they’ll give you a cute tennis bracelet or a watch and be like “here you go, it’s the anniversary of the day we first started texting each other.” 😭 so imagine when you two actually make it OFFICIAL. awww i’m hearing your gonna hit the jackpot with this person pile 2.
other channeled messages:
national anthem by lana del rey, you're so sentimental baby, fireworks, coquette aesthetic, let the light in by lana del rey ft. father john misty, lover boy era, sweet thing by mary j. blige
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pile 3 🍑 —
whatta man by en vogue & salt-n-peppa immediately came to mind, pile 3. LOL your person is gonna rock your world (i'm hearing literally and metaphorically) OKAYYY pile 3 spicy, spicy! “you so crazyyy. i think i wanna have your baby.” part of the song just played wow your person is gonna have you whipped. you and your person both have a lot of great things going for yourselves, and i think you both share that same sense of passion and ambition. i’m hearing that you’re powerful manifestors pile 3, you know how to make your dreams become your reality. this will draw your person closer to you because they are very dedicated and willful when it comes to their goals and aspirations in life, so to have a person like you match their energy will make them feel good. company by justin bieber just started playing in my mind, “can we be, can we be, be each other’s company?” lol i wouldn’t be surprised if they were scoping you out for awhile before making the first move. they’re curious about you…they wanna know every and anything about you. you’re like an enigma to them and this person is very inquisitive and open-minded. they’ll like doing things with you that stimulate their mind like taking you to museums, concerts/musicals and maybe even escape rooms. they like to have a lot of fun and make the best of life. i think that your person is very in-tune with their feelings and they'll bring a strong sense of emotional stability and care to the relationship. dare i say it, the vibe reminds me of selena gomez and justin bieber’s relationship in its prime. it’s funny because after i listened to company…bad liar by selena gomez started playing lol. “i'm tryin'…not to give in to you. no, not to give in to you. with my feelings on fire…guess i'm a bad liar.” you may play hard to get at first pile 3 because i feel like you’ve been let down/disappointed by masculine figures in your life before, and you’re hoping this connection doesn’t let you down either. don't hold past situations against them though, because they are quite the opposite. they’re going to prioritize their connection with you and always make sure that you’re taken care of. they’ll take it nice and slow with you if you want…omfg your person is such a flirt. very much nice & slow by usher vibes. love this for you pile 3, i really do!
other channeled messages:
motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat, motivation by kelly rowland ft. lil wayne, comes from a very well off/rich family, aries, libra sun, taurus moon, infj, hey peach, georgia miller and zion miller, peaches & cream by 112 ft. p diddy, ordinary people by john legend
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pile 4 💍 —
pile 4 can i just start by say that your person is so lover by taylor swift coded. “can i go where you go? can we always, be this close? forever and ever.” AHHH so cute. things may develop between you two rather quickly, there will be a lot of excitement and anticipation building up. into you by ariana grande just came to mind. this person might be a little different from your usual “type”/may not be the type of person you’d usually go for (i’d say personality-wise, cause looks-wise they’re very cute i’m hearing) but there’s something about them that’ll draw you to them like a magnet. it’ll almost make you feel appalled at how much you look forward to hearing back from them or being super excited for your next date with them. i’m hearing you tell yourself, “STAND UP!” lmaoooo y’all are so funny pile 4. your person is gonna love your sense of humor hehe you’re so sarcastic and witty. you’re gonna love how your person takes the reins of this relationship lol all you have to do is sit back and be pretty. girls need love by summer walker just started playing, “honestly, i’m tryna stay focused. you must think i’ve got to be joking when i say…i don't think i can wait. i just need it now, better swing my way.” yeahhh you’re gonna love them so much pile 4, the passion is sooooo strong. this connection will be very abundant and transformative for the both of you.
other channeled messages:
not nice by partynextdoor, confetti cake, silk red dress, 2000s rom-com type of love, infp, sleeping beauty, leo moon, capricorn rising, 10h placements, gemini or cancer mercury
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thebearer · 1 year ago
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Friends with benefits lip saying they’re not exclusive and that he’s not her bf so don’t go getting any ideas but then getting upset when reader takes him up on that and starts seeing other people
"The fuck are you doin'?" Lip growled, one hand curled around your arm, the other pulling you away from the intoxicated frat boy who's hand had slowly started to make it's way up your dress.
"What?" You grumbled, words slurring together a little. The frat party had been Lip's idea, of course, texting you about Mikayla or Hannah who had invited him... who he was also trying to have sex with.
You and Lip were friends. Casual hookups when there was nothing else, but friends. Truly. That's all.
Or so you both told yourselves.
Lip and you had a rule- there was no rules. Do whoever and whatever, and Lip had happily embarked on that rule before with Amanda and Helene and all the others you didn't care to know about.
You had your roster too, more cautious about it, but still a regular rotation. It worked for a while, you and Lip's casual hookups- I mean who could blame you? He could eat pussy like a champ. But recently, things had started to get... difficult between the two of you. A shift that could only be blamed on the rise in your shared hookups- and feelings.
"Hey, man, we're just-"
"-Fuck off, alright? She's drunk you piece of shit." Lip shoved the guy, harder than he should have, the frat boy's cup spilling on the girl behind him when he stumbled.
"Lip, I-I'm not even drunk. What are you- Hey, where are we going?" You frowned, feet stumbling as he drug you through the crowds of people towards the door.
Lip's jaw flexed, eyes in a narrowed hard glare. He didn't even look at whatever her name was sorority girl who whined at him when he stormed out of the house with you. You pretended to be annoyed when she glared at you, the look of pure jealousy on her face- it made your heart skip knowing she thinks you two are together. That Lip chose you.
"What is your problem?" You huffed, nearly twisting your ankle on the pavement with how fast he was walking. "Lip, can you let go of me? Christ." You huffed, yanking your arm free.
"What is your problem?" You repeated, glaring at him under the streetlight. The campus was mostly empty, a few stragglers drunkenly stumbling home.
Lip scoffed, a hand running over his mouth. "You-You were just gonna let that guy- that guy fuckin' touch you like that? In front of everyone?"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Are you kidding me? I know you're not talking, you were practically fucking blondie in the kitchen!" You threw your hand out in exasperation.
Lip shook his head, pacing a few steps ahead before circling back. "I-I don't get it. You're letting that dumb fuck touch you? I didn't even think you liked guys like that."
"Who says I liked him?" You scoffed. "I just wanted to have sex with him."
"Yeah, well, you didn't have to have it with him." Lip knew his argument was weak, hoping you wouldn't notice. The quip in your brow told him you did. "That guy is fuckin' stupid."
"Ok? And your Chi Kappa Delta whatever girl is so much smarter?" You sneered. You didn't know her, shouldn't have been so harsh. You couldn't help the way you bristled at the thought of her. Her hands in his hair, kissing him all sloppy in the kitchen- and he let her.
Of course he did. He should have, you told yourself. You two are just friends.
"I'm not fucking people because they're smart. He's a good fuck, and I was horny." You shrugged, biting back the small grin when Lip's spine straightened.
"You've fucked him before?" He scoffed.
"Yeah?" You snipped. "A few times. He's on the roster. The one that I've told you about that can-"
"-I don't..." Lip snapped, shaking his head, taking a deep cleansing breath. "If you were horny, you coulda just told me. Would've handled that."
"You seemed busy." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You hoped Lip didn't hear the flare of jealousy in your tone. "And besides, it's not your turn. I have a system."
"Yeah? He's better than me?" Lip growled, taking a menacing step that closed in the space between you two.
You swallowed hard, your eyes on his, knees wobbling with excitement. "I didn't say... Why do you even care?" You scoffed, stepping back, throwing your arms out.
Lip faltered for a moment, cheeks tinging in heat. His heart pounded in his chest, ringing in his ears. "I-I don't." He said curtly, and you tried to convince yourself it was the alcohol that made your stomach turn the way it did. "I just... don't want you gettin' a-a std or somethin'. Looks like he's got s dirty dick."
"Right." You mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself. There was a pause, a silence that was far too deafening for both of you. "'m gonna go home." You mutter, glancing up at Lip. "I, uh, I got a nine am tomorrow anyways."
"Yeah, I-I'll walk you." Lip offered, stepping beside you, heading to your on campus apartment. You'd managed to swing that, somehow, and Lip frequented it often. Because the dorms were so noisy, of course.
"'s alright. You don't have to." You shrugged. "I got it."
"No, I... it's not a big deal, alright? Left my key there anyways." Lip nodded. It was a lie, his key was in his pocket, but you didn't need to know that. "Besides... you still horny?" He looked at you, smirking at how you blushed.
"Maybe a little. Either horny or tired, I can't decide yet." You hummed simply, eyes batting up at him.
"Yeah? I can help you with that." Lip grinned, hand snaking down your back to your ass, squeezing lightly.
Lip fucked you to sleep, legs thrown over his shoulders, thankful you didn't have roommates at the way you cried out. Because what else are friends for?
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wonryllis · 9 months ago
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★ ᵎᵎ ENHYPEN AS KDRAMA LEADS AND THEIR LOVES.
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╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒.
𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen on the screen with you 𖥔 ݁ fluff, suggestive LIB? fem!reader requested word count `1715 PLS REBLOG!!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 ❝ they tried to take what was mine, so i will show them what i have. ❞ jang uk, alchemy of souls.
the forlorn hero cursed by fate to bear the weight of being the most powerful person in the world. and for one that withstands death and destiny; you are the light that embraces his shadows of darkness when he embarks on the path to save the world.
"you look pretty," heeseung eyes glance over your dolled up figure as he enters the room. "well no one's going to notice me anyway, they're all interested in your past lover," you scowl in an adorable pout that tingles heeseung's inner desires to eat you up. "that's why sit where everyone can see you, show them who my actual bride is," his fingers reach out to hold the side of your face in a gentle caress, gaze locked with yours, the atmosphere heaving with tension. "then i'm going to wear the family ornament," he hums inching closer,"then i'm going to tell them we get get along very well," he hums again, nose brushing against yours,"then i'm going to brag that you light up the path for me at nigh-" this time heeseung's lips find yours in a tender kiss, sucking softly almost in a nibble as he pulls away in a moment,"show me off however you want, i'm all yours," because he's sure you are his light in the dark.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ❝ even if other people say it is not, if you say it is love, then it is love. ❞ lee jun ho, extraordinary attorney woo young woo.
the secure and dependable soul who is left navigating through a love that confronts the pitifully vile sides of society. and for who wishes to be the one for you; you help his muddled worries come to the ultimate realization, to love and to fight for it till the end.
"jay, can i.. touch you?" jay is dumbfounded at your words, frozen at his spot for a momentary instance," he looks at you trying to avoid to his gaze,"i want to check whether i like you in that way," you clarify and jay curses his tainted mind for going places they absolutely should not be going. "oh, i see," it takes a few seconds for it all to sink in, and as soon as he does he's approaching you in a confident stride. "can you only check by touching me?" one step forward, one step back. "i need to see if my heart races—" caging you with your back against the couch, hands on each side,"so your heart doesn't race if we're not touching?" jay whispers, grinning at your eyes looking everywhere but him. "even when you're with me, doesn't your heart race?" his own heart pounds hard in his chest, just being with you has him weak,"that's disappointing," breathing fast as he leans in. you test him against all that he has ever known.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 ❝ does my dream have to be success? can't it be a person? ❞ nam do san, start up.
the ridiculously gifted and capable protagonist on his journey of growth, struggling between reality and dreams. and for one whom love, self worth and truth is conflicting; you provide an elysian abode of validation and acceptance of who he can be despite everything.
"a rainbow doesn't make your wish come true," jake smiles to himself, fiddling around with the pebbles at his feet,"it's just light reflecting and refracting," looking up he finds you staring at him in a sulk. "so you're not going to pray? because you don't believe in it?" your words are one of sorrow albeit you hardly sound upset and more in spirit of challenge. "there's no objective evidence," though he'll admit he'd take every chance he could to make a wish about you, even if it's superstitious. "let me show you then, evidence," you pull him by his collar into a messy, sloppy kiss, one that takes his breath away,"see, i prayed i'd kiss you and i did," his cheeks warm up at your bluntness,"you're the one who kissed me, the rainbow has nothing to do with it," "just the way liking you has nothing to do with reasons to like you, i like you because you're you, you're my reason" you make it so easy to fall in love.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 ❝ even if my feelings for you make me insignificant and weak, you are my fate that i cannot defy. ❞ jung gu won, my demon.
the immortal infernal superbeing caught in a web of events that go against his very existence, piercing through the root of his beliefs. and for one whose emotions have been shut for the longest time; you open the doors of his hell, where his throne shines for you.
"is this what you're trying to get?" sunghoon's figure presses into your back as he reaches above you to bring down the book from the shelf,"my demon guide, really?" moving to the side he leans against the tall furniture, waving the heavy book in your face. your eyes fall to the exposed skin of his torso, toned chest and glistening abs, staying there a second too long,"ay ay ay, you pervert!" sunghoon immediately pulls his loose dress shirt together buttoning it up in a hurry as you look away. "why are you here anyway?" for once you have been the first to come to him. he feels something is wrong with him to be so elated over a mere thing like this,"i was just worried," you make him feel human, you make him feel vulnerable, you make him want to rewrite the stars with you. "about you," it is scary yet it feels like a kind of freedom that relieves him of a load he never knew he carried.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 ❝ if you really want to express something you will find a way. ❞ ha yi chan, twinkling watermelon.
the ever merry fellow, overflowing with a shinning soul and a sparkling heart, choosing to see only the bright side of everything. and for whom shortfalls have been a sign of misery; you show him a new world where flaws exist to give meaning to what you have.
"here, i got you a cat," sunoo gestures to the cat snuggling in his arms, getting closer to let you pet it. "i was worried you'd be bored alone," he speaks slow, moving his fingers just the way he practiced as you take the little fluffball from him,"i made sure to pick out a kitty that looked like me," he points and when your eyes crinkling into an adorable smile, sunoo feels all his efforts of learning to communicate with you to be fruitful. "a name based on your face?" he questions when you talk about naming the cat,"do you have a name like that too?" he never thought there'd be a time when he'd sit with you in the woods like this, talking in a language of your own as you taught him how to call out to you in a way only you two would understand. there was so much beauty in silence and he only realized it now,"that's a pretty name, i will call you by that from now," the simplicity of life he forget, you remind him.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 ❝ i'm a terrible liar and i don't have the ability to fool the one i love. ❞ kim do ha, my lovely liar.
the honest yet constantly condemned guy doing his best to fall back into the rhythm of life, having lost the last hopes of happiness. and for one who has always been doubted and criticised; you bring reason, to survive the dark into victory.
"lie to me," jungwon looks up from his bowl of soup, bewildered at what you ask of him,"what?" he mumbles slowly, trying to make sure he heard you right."just once please? try telling me i'm pretty," the insistent tone of your voice persuades docile jungwon to give in, brown eyes gazing at you in a dazed stare. one that lasts a little longer than a moment necessary,"you're pretty," and it's not a lie, you are so much more than just pretty in his eyes, it could never be a lie,"of course, i would say you're pretty," when jungwon looks at you he sees love in a new light, he sees all these positive emotions in a new light. in a light that gives him hope of escaping the hideous cage his mind has him trapped in. "because you really are pretty," he returns back to eating, trying to avoid the flush of butterflies he feels in just that one acknowledgement. it had been years since he felt them, such a normal emotion of love.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 ❝ when you miss me, you can go to a bookstore and see me in a comic book. ❞ kang chul, w two worlds.
the tragic struck, defined by his past character thriving into a position of power and influence to uncover the truths of his comical life. and for one that battles against injustice, fictional between dimensions; you are the key to his long awaited peace.
"this one looks good on you, you should get it—" your hand slaps across riki's cheek in a snap making everyone in the room gasp in horror. to be hit like that out of the blue, riki should have been outraged, instead all he felt was confusion but not so much as to end the chapter. "what, is it?" he asks, his brows raised in question. "why am i getting slapped for buying you clothes?" stepping closer to you,"t-that, i'm sorry—"your lips crash against his for a fleeting moment before you rush off into the fitting rooms leaving everyone in shock. riki's fingers linger over the spot you kissed, feeling his heart skip multiple beats for some reason. you are pretty for sure, but you're also idiotic in way that attracts him out of pure amusement. he knows you don't belong here, and he knows it'll be reckless to try and find your world, but you make him feel there is a way out despite all obstacles and absurdities.
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz
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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago
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Amazon’s financial shell game let it create an “impossible” monopoly
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!
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For the pro-monopoly crowd that absolutely dominated antitrust law from the Carter administration until 2020, Amazon presents a genuinely puzzling paradox: the company's monopoly power was never supposed to emerge, and if it did, it should have crumbled immediately.
Pro-monopoly economists embody Ely Devons's famous aphorism that "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’":
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse
Rather than using the way the world actually works as their starting point for how to think about it, they build elaborate models out of abstract principles like "rational actors." The resulting mathematical models are so abstractly elegant that it's easy to forget that they're just imaginative exercises, disconnected from reality:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful
These models predicted that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power. Even if they became a monopoly – in the sense of dominating sales of various kinds of goods – the company still wouldn't get monopoly power.
For example, if Amazon tried to take over a category by selling goods below cost ("predatory pricing"), then rivals could just wait until the company got tired of losing money and put prices back up, and then those rivals could go back to competing. And if Amazon tried to keep the loss-leader going indefinitely by "cross-subsidizing" the losses with high-margin profits from some other part of its business, rivals could sell those high margin goods at a lower margin, which would lure away Amazon customers and cut the supply lines for the price war it was fighting with its discounted products.
That's what the model predicted, but it's not what happened in the real world. In the real world, Amazon was able use its access to the capital markets to embark on scorched-earth predatory pricing campaigns. When diapers.com refused to sell out to Amazon, the company casually committed $100m to selling diapers below cost. Diapers.com went bust, Amazon bought it for pennies on the dollar and shut it down:
https://www.theverge.com/2019/5/13/18563379/amazon-predatory-pricing-antitrust-law
Investors got the message: don't compete with Amazon. They can remain predatory longer than you can remain solvent.
Now, not everyone shared the antitrust establishment's confidence that Amazon couldn't create a durable monopoly with market power. In 2017, Lina Khan – then a third year law student – published "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," a landmark paper arguing that Amazon had all the tools it needed to amass monopoly power:
https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox
Today, Khan is chair of the FTC, and has brought a case against Amazon that builds on some of the theories from that paper. One outcome of that suit is an unprecedented look at Amazon's internal operations. But, as the Institute for Local Self-Reliance's Stacy Mitchell describes in a piece for The Atlantic, key pieces of information have been totally redacted in the court exhibits:
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/02/amazon-profits-antitrust-ftc/677580/
The most important missing datum: how much money Amazon makes from each of its lines of business. Amazon's own story is that it basically breaks even on its retail operation, and keeps the whole business afloat with profits from its AWS cloud computing division. This is an important narrative, because if it's true, then Amazon can't be forcing up retail prices, which is the crux of the FTC's case against the company.
Here's what we know for sure about Amazon's retail business. First: merchants can't live without Amazon. The majority of US households have Prime, and 90% of Prime households start their ecommerce searches on Amazon; if they find what they're looking for, they buy it and stop. Thus, merchants who don't sell on Amazon just don't sell. This is called "monopsony power" and it's a lot easier to maintain than monopoly power. For most manufacturers, a 10% overnight drop in sales is a catastrophe, so a retailer that commands even a 10% market-share can extract huge concessions from its suppliers. Amazon's share of most categories of goods is a lot higher than 10%!
What kind of monopsony power does Amazon wield? Well, for one thing, it is able to levy a huge tax on its sellers. Add up all the junk-fees Amazon charges its platform sellers and it comes out to 45-51%:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos
Competitive businesses just don't have 45% margins! No one can afford to kick that much back to Amazon. What is a merchant to do? Sell on Amazon and you lose money on every sale. Don't sell on Amazon and you don't get any business.
The only answer: raise prices on Amazon. After all, Prime customers – the majority of Amazon's retail business – don't shop for competitive prices. If Amazon wants a 45% vig, you can raise your Amazon prices by a third and just about break even.
But Amazon is wise to that: they have a "most favored nation" rule that punishes suppliers who sell goods more cheaply in rival stores, or even on their own site. The punishments vary, from banishing your products to page ten million of search-results to simply kicking you off the platform. With publishers, Amazon reserves the right to lower the prices they set when listing their books, to match the lowest price on the web, and paying publishers less for each sale.
That means that suppliers who sell on Amazon (which is anyone who wants to stay in business) have to dramatically hike their prices on Amazon, and when they do, they also have to hike their prices everywhere else (no wonder Prime customers don't bother to search elsewhere for a better deal!).
Now, Amazon says this is all wrong. That 45-51% vig they claim from business customers is barely enough to break even. The company's profits – they insist – come from selling AWS cloud service. The retail operation is just a public service they provide to us with cross-subsidy from those fat AWS margins.
This is a hell of a claim. Last year, Amazon raked in $130 billion in seller fees. In other words: they booked more revenue from junk fees than Bank of America made through its whole operation. Amazon's junk fees add up to more than all of Meta's revenues:
https://s2.q4cdn.com/299287126/files/doc_financials/2023/q4/AMZN-Q4-2023-Earnings-Release.pdf
Amazon claims that none of this is profit – it's just covering their operating expenses. According to Amazon, its non-AWS units combined have a one percent profit margin.
Now, this is an eye-popping claim indeed. Amazon is a public company, which means that it has to make thorough quarterly and annual financial disclosures breaking down its profit and loss. You'd think that somewhere in those disclosures, we'd find some details.
You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. Amazon's disclosures do not break out profits and losses by segment. SEC rules actually require the company to make these per-segment disclosures:
https://scholarship.law.stjohns.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3524&context=lawreview#:~:text=If%20a%20company%20has%20more,income%20taxes%20and%20extraordinary%20items.
That rule was enacted in 1966, out of concern that companies could use cross-subsidies to fund predatory pricing and other anticompetitive practices. But over the years, the SEC just…stopped enforcing the rule. Companies have "near total managerial discretion" to lump business units together and group their profits and losses in bloated, undifferentiated balance-sheet items:
https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/public-purpose/publications/2021/dec/crouching-tiger-hidden-dragons
As Mitchell points you, it's not just Amazon that flouts this rule. We don't know how much money Google makes on Youtube, or how much Apple makes from the App Store (Apple told a federal judge that this number doesn't exist). Warren Buffett – with significant interest in hundreds of companies across dozens of markets – only breaks out seven segments of profit-and-loss for Berkshire Hathaway.
Recall that there is one category of data from the FTC's antitrust case against Amazon that has been completely redacted. One guess which category that is! Yup, the profit-and-loss for its retail operation and other lines of business.
These redactions are the judge's fault, but the real fault lies with the SEC. Amazon is a public company. In exchange for access to the capital markets, it owes the public certain disclosures, which are set out in the SEC's rulebook. The SEC lets Amazon – and other gigantic companies – get away with a degree of secrecy that should disqualify it from offering stock to the public. As Mitchell says, SEC chairman Gary Gensler should adopt "new rules that more concretely define what qualifies as a segment and remove the discretion given to executives."
Amazon is the poster-child for monopoly run amok. As Yanis Varoufakis writes in Technofeudalism, Amazon has actually become a post-capitalist enterprise. Amazon doesn't make profits (money derived from selling goods); it makes rents (money charged to people who are seeking to make a profit):
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital
Profits are the defining characteristic of a capitalist economy; rents are the defining characteristic of feudalism. Amazon looks like a bazaar where thousands of merchants offer goods for sale to the public, but look harder and you discover that all those stallholders are totally controlled by Amazon. Amazon decides what goods they can sell, how much they cost, and whether a customer ever sees them. And then Amazon takes $0.45-51 out of every dollar. Amazon's "marketplace" isn't like a flea market, it's more like the interconnected shops on Disneyland's Main Street, USA: the sign over the door might say "20th Century Music Company" or "Emporium," but they're all just one store, run by one company.
And because Amazon has so much control over its sellers, it is able to exercise power over its buyers. Amazon's search results push down the best deals on the platform and promote results from more expensive, lower-quality items whose sellers have paid a fortune for an "ad" (not really an ad, but rather the top spot in search listings):
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute
This is "Amazon's pricing paradox." Amazon can claim that it offers low-priced, high-quality goods on the platform, but it makes $38b/year pushing those good deals way, way down in its search results. The top result for your Amazon search averages 29% more expensive than the best deal Amazon offers. Buy something from those first four spots and you'll pay a 25% premium. On average, you need to pick the seventeenth item on the search results page to get the best deal:
https://scholarship.law.bu.edu/faculty_scholarship/3645/
For 40 years, pro-monopoly economists claimed that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power over buyers and sellers. Today, Amazon exercises that power so thoroughly that its junk-fee revenues alone exceed the total revenues of Bank of America. Amazon's story – that these fees barely stretch to covering its costs – assumes a nearly inconceivable level of credulity in its audience. Regrettably – for the human race – there is a cohort of senior, highly respected economists who possess this degree of credulity and more.
Of course, there's an easy way to settle the argument: Amazon could just comply with SEC regs and break out its P&L for its e-commerce operation. I assure you, they're not hiding this data because they think you'll be pleasantly surprised when they do and they don't want to spoil the moment.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees
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Image: Doc Searls (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/docsearls/4863121221/
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
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cozycottagetarot · 10 months ago
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What Do They Daydream About You?
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How To Pick A Pile:
Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.
Quick notes on this reading:
I'm experimenting with a different style. -- I've been working on shorter, less structured, formal pacs (and some longer ones). I'm not sure how I feel about it but I'd like to hear your thoughts too!
I apologise for any errors. -- My immune system and I have literally been at war for weeks, so know if there are any errors, I probably missed it while wincing in pain. 😅
It's purely for entertainment purposes. -- Don't think I need to explain more. Take what resonates be it all of it, some of it or none at all.
PILE 1
14:44 as I pulled the last card, maybe 444 is of importance to you at the moment. Knight in shining armour vibes. Noble acts or intentions of just sweeping you off your feet. Introducing you to their friends and or family. Daydreams of big celebrations of being with you, internally and externally. For some, they daydream about celebrating the news of having a child with you. Finding peace after long struggles... starting anew with you. Domestic bliss, as in chilling at home with someone you love, not doing much of anything. Or simply enjoying the mundane tasks together. Going for walks. Having a cup of tea or coffee together. Peppering your skin with kisses... maybe physical touch is their love language. The ghost of their fingertips on your skin. Heart-to-heart conversations. Falling into a routine with you. The magic of embarking on new beginnings with you.
PILE 2
North Star Vibes. Holding out hope that they make it to you. Trying to make life better so they can show up for you. They daydream about how you make them stronger, about you being a good influence on them. It's like the thought of you soothes them when they're struggling. Dreaming that happiness is coming in the form of you. Lots of fiery energy. You're a symbol of hope. Rediscovering what they had lost with you. Feels like someone who has been through a lot. Playfulness. Daydreaming about you is embodying those feelings that seem long forgotten. I know I keep repeating the same thing over and over, but I'm not getting anything more than that (even when I go back to the literal meaning of the cards) so I pulled some love messages. There's the cards 'twin flame', 'finding myself' and 'still listening'. My interpretation is that daydreaming about you holds a mirror up to themselves which inspires them to look deeper within and figure out what they want and who they want to be. They could also find solace in music, they may have a song or playlist that makes them feel more connected to you.
PILE 3
If you were drawn to pile 2, consider checking out that pile as well too. 333. The number 3 could hold some sort of significance.
Dreaming of an equal. Someone to keep them balanced and bring a new perspective. They could feel as though (or know) some kind of scrutiny is possible, but they spend their time dreaming of overcoming it. There could be cultural differences or for some it's a matter of being in a same-sex relationship or anything that goes against what may be more commonly accepted. If it's of any significance, the red string of fate (two different decks mention it). Power couple vibes. Being able to maintain a sense of youthfulness in the relationship. Someone who won't try to take advantage of them, who'll push them to be better and vice versa, who'll look out for them. Someone to heal with and understand that they are still healing. They could dream of having a child with you or starting a family in whatever format that may look like to both of you. Daydreams of warmth & protection. Giving and receiving. You could possibly meet at a concert or connect over music.
PILE 4
I did a repull to make sure I was reading the cards right (it was stormy) and the same cards came out after reshuffling (minus one card). I feel like this person has been reborn. Who they were is not who they are now (or when you meet them). They could daydream of being divinely guided towards you. Someone spiritual or religious. At the very least finding a connection with something (a concept) greater than them. Daydreams of being guided towards happiness. They had a teardown and rebuild of who they are. They could be from a different location, you could meet when travelling across a large body of water. It feels like they're dreaming of coming in hot. They're paving the way for their happy ending. Take it as you will, but instead of a 'damsel in distress' (regardless of gender, it's just women on the cards depicting forging on) type of story, it's one of those ones where it's like "you know what, I'll save myself and I'll chase after my happy ending". Actually, I get a-spec vibes as well and that this person could be a platonic love or a strong platonic bond. It could even be you respectively. But the energy is one of being inspired and ever-lasting bonds. A new resolve, coming home to oneself, resting in the knowledge that the future is going to be good because you'll make it so.
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xshines · 10 months ago
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modern!mizu x reader
eternal love
tags: just mizu being a big soft gf:(
this is my first work here, dont eat me pls<\3
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"How do I look?" you asked, spinning around slowly, as you checked yourself in the mirror before turning to Mizu. Your eyes twinkled with mischief as you noticed her gaze lingering on your rear end.
The two of you had already been in a relationship together for almost a year now. To celebrate your anniversary, you both decided to fly to Japan for a trip.
Your question clearly broke her out of her trance. "You look great." she muttered, looking your outfit up and down. Then she walked up to you, keeping her hand on your waist, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Let's go." her hand went from your waist to your hand, pulling you behind her. Your heart racing with excitement, allowing Mizu to lead the way out of the hotel room and down the stairs, hand in hand.
As Mizu navigated you through the hotel lobby, heads turned their way, drawn by their youthful energy and evident chemistry. Both of you didn't seem to notice or care about the attention, lost in your own world as you embarked on your day together.
As you two walked along the street, your eyes caught the stalls with colorful items. You let go of Mizu's hand and walked over to the stand with small glass animal figurines. They were the size of your little finger but were very colorful and detailed which made them unique. Mizu followed you like a lost puppy, her curiosity piqued by your sudden interest. She glanced at the little figurines and let out a soft gasp of admiration. "They're beautiful." she commented, reaching out to touch one of them with a fingertip.
The seller looked up from cleaning another figurine, his eyes lighting up when he saw Mizu. "Ah! A fellow collector!" he said excitedly. "Which ones catch your eye?"
You looked at the seller and then at Mizu, waiting to see how she would get out of this situation. Seeing her confused look, you giggled quietly and you tried to direct her with your eyes to a small figurine of two sleeping cats, cuddled together. Mizu raised her eyebrows, looking at you and then looking at the figurines. Finally her eyes landed on the adorable pair of cats and she couldn't help but smile softly. "These are adorable."
"Ah, true love!" the seller laughed heartily, his wrinkled face lighting up with delight, as he saw the tension between you two. "These two are called Eternal Love, they symbolize everlasting companionship and passion shared between two souls. They would make perfect gifts for someone special, wouldn't they?"
Mizu turned to you, her cheeks a slight shade of pink in embarrassment. She squeezed your hand, the corner of her mouth curling into a mischievous smirk. "Thank you, we'll take them." she said quickly, trying to distract herself from seller's suggestive comment.
She accepted the figurine gratefully, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson. She managed to stammer out before turning to you, rolling her eyes playfully. "You're such a flirt." You giggled at her reaction. You knew very well that Mizu wasn't a big fan of being clingy in public so you decided to tease her a little and disturb her balance even more. "You're blushing so hard right now. You know?"
Mizu huffed lightly, trying to hide her amusement. She elbowed you lightly in the ribs as you continued to stroll through the market. "I'm not blushing." she lied, although it was clear from her flushed face that she was still embarrassed by their exchange with the seller.
"Yeah, of course not. You never blush." you said jokingly, just looking at her from time to time with large smirk on your face.
Mizu playfully punched your arm, but beneath her teasing exterior, there was a hint of happiness at being teased by you. She wrapped her arm around your waist, gently pushing you forward. "Alright, alright, enough with the teasing." she said, steering you towards another stall selling colorful handmade scarves and shawls.
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urfavoritewriter · 11 months ago
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More Than Neighbors
A commission for an anonymous user here on Tumblr, thank you for commissioning me!
Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Endo, Digestion, Melting Digestion, Multiple Instances of Vore, burping
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The sun cast a warm glow over the new neighborhood as Jake and Andrew arrived at their freshly leased apartment. The building, a quaint three-story structure, stood proudly with a coat of welcoming beige paint. As they stepped inside, the scent of fresh paint tickled their noses—a sign that this place was truly their canvas to fill.
The apartment had a cozy charm, with sunlight streaming through the large windows that adorned the living room. The kitchen, though compact, exuded a functional elegance, complete with gleaming appliances and granite countertops. A promising beginning to their life together.
With an exchange of glances and a shared smile, Jake and Andrew embarked on a rhythm of unpacking. The air was charged with the excitement of new beginnings. The sound of cardboard boxes being shuffled and furniture being arranged reverberated through the apartment.
Jake's lively voice, filled with enthusiasm, echoed, "Babe, I'm thinking the couch should go right here, what do you say?"
Andrew, a bit more measured in his responses, replied, "Yeah, that works. Gives a nice view of the TV and opens up the space."
Their shared brainstorming intertwined with the mundane yet significant task of setting up their home. Little did they know that this cozy abode would soon become the stage for a more unconventional kind of interaction with their neighbor. Or, at the very least, one that Jake attempted to hide really well.
"I'd love to stay and help, but I've got to go to work. Maybe wait on the heavier tasks till I'm back home, and set up what you can until then," Andrew suggested, a hint of regret in his voice as duty called him away.
Jake nodded, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "Sure thing, babe. I'll leave the heavy lifting for when my strong man is back in action." He winked playfully, earning a chuckle from Andrew.
As Andrew prepared to head out the door, Jake couldn't resist a mischievous comment, "Thinking of greeting our neighbors later. You know, being the friendly new guy in the building."
Andrew shot him a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a smirk. "Just don't get into any trouble. And no overly friendly offers, alright?" he quipped.
Jake feigned innocence, a twinkle in his eye. "Who, me? Never!" he teased, giving Andrew a quick peck on the cheek before sending him off to work with a playful swat on the butt. "Hey, I just want to make sure we're on good terms with everyone around here. Plus, who knows, maybe they're super cool."
With a peck on Jake's cheek, Andrew replied, "Alright, social butterfly. Do us proud. See you later, okay?"
"Sure thing. Have a good day at work!" Jake replied, continuing the mundane task of unboxing their many sentimental objects for the next hour.
Jake took a moment in the shiny new bathroom, adjusting his hair and shirt. He wanted to make a good first impression, not just for himself but also for Andrew. With a deep breath, he looked at himself in the mirror, nodding as if giving himself a mental pep talk.
Feeling ready, Jake strolled out of the apartment, locking the door behind him, and headed for the next door. It felt a bit odd, making the rounds so soon, but he figured it was better to know his neighbors sooner rather than later.
Arriving at the door, he took another moment, clearing his throat and then knocked twice. The anticipation was a mix of nerves and excitement, not knowing who would answer the door.
The door creaked open, revealing a man with a dad bod, dressed in a blue gym shirt that depicted a muscular guy lifting, paired with black shorts. The shirt hugged his form in a way that accentuated his physique rather than hiding it, and the casual attire only added to the relaxed charm he exuded. This was Thomas, the neighbor Jake was about to get to know.
"Hey there!" Thomas greeted, a friendly smile on his face. "You must be the new neighbor. I'm Thomas." He extended a hand, a firm handshake revealing the calluses of someone who might hit the gym often.
"Jake," he replied, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you, Thomas."
Thomas chuckled a bit, the friendly tone still lingering. "Likewise, Jake. So, what brings you to this side of the building?"
Jake shifted slightly, feeling a bit shy under Thomas's friendly gaze. "Just moved in with my boyfriend, Andrew, next door. Thought I'd say hi to the neighbors."
"Ah, the happy couple! Welcome to the neighborhood," Thomas said, rubbing his chin playfully. "You know, you're lucky to have me as a neighbor. I'm like the unofficial welcoming committee around here."
Jake grinned, finding Thomas's confidence oddly endearing. "Well, lucky us then. Thanks for the warm welcome."
Thomas leaned against the door frame, his demeanor casual but with a hint of self-assuredness. "No problem at all. Say, why don't you come in? I was just about to make some tea. A little neighborly chat won't hurt."
Jake hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist the friendly offer. "Sure, why not? Tea sounds good."
The apartment had a pleasant aroma of warmth and familiarity as Thomas led Jake in. It was a cozy space with an inviting feel, making Jake feel a bit more at ease. Thomas moved effortlessly to the small kitchenette, pulling out two cups and preparing tea.
"Here you go, Jake," Thomas said, handing over one of the steaming cups. "I've got a knack for tea, so enjoy."
"Thanks," Jake replied, taking a sip, the warmth of the tea comforting in his hands. "You've got a nice place here."
Thomas grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Yeah, it's my little bachelor pad. Not as neat as it could be, but it's home."
They exchanged pleasantries, Jake finding himself drawn to Thomas's charismatic demeanor. The conversation flowed easily, with Thomas expressing genuine interest in getting to know his new neighbor. At one point, Jake couldn't help but voice a thought that had been lingering in his mind.
"You know, Thomas, you're a pretty interesting guy," Jake said, a playful glint in his eyes. "And, well, quite attractive."
Thomas's response was a cocky smirk, as if he'd expected the compliment. "I get that a lot, and for good reason."
Jake blushed slightly, his admission out in the open. "I hope I'm not being too forward or anything. It's just, you seem like a cool guy."
Thomas chuckled, the cocky edge still present. "No worries, Jake. I can handle a compliment. And cool? I'll take it. We'll have to hang out more, get to know each other better. Maybe introduce me to that boyfriend of yours."
Jake nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through him. "Yeah, that sounds great. Andrew would love to meet you, I'm sure."
With that, the conversation continued, the two sharing stories and laughter, the bond between neighbors growing stronger. Little did Jake know that the more time he spent with Thomas, the deeper his fascination would become. Jake couldn't stop eye-ing his neighbor's dad bod, and especially his slightly protruding belly, which was cozy and inviting.
"What's up?" Thomas said, noticing Jake's attraction to his body and his extended silence.
"Say, Thomas," Jake spoke, his voice a little shaken and apprehensive. "I was wondering if you could… You know," He said, avoiding his neighbor's direct gaze. "Swallow me up?"
The revelation hung in the air, creating a moment of awkward tension between Jake and Thomas. Jake's request was so unexpected that even Thomas, with his confident demeanor, was momentarily taken aback.
"Swallow you up?" Thomas repeated, a bemused expression crossing his face.
Jake, realizing how unusual his request sounded, quickly began to backtrack. "Oh, uh, sorry. That was a weird thing to say. I just thought, you know, it's been a long day with all the moving, and I thought it might be a way to relax. Forget I said anything."
Thomas, recovering from his initial surprise, chuckled. "Hey, no need to apologize. That's definitely one way to unwind. But, you know, what about your boyfriend? Shouldn't he be the one you'd want to spend your evening with?"
Jake hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room as if searching for an excuse. "Andrew's at work. He won't be back for hours. I figured it might be a good time, you know?"
Thomas raised an eyebrow, the cocky smirk returning. "Well, well, looks like I've got some competition with your boyfriend's schedule. Alright, Jake, let's give it a try. Why not?"
Jake's eyes widened in surprise, the realization sinking in that Thomas was actually considering his bizarre request. He stammered, "Wait, really?"
Thomas chuckled again, approaching Jake with a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, really. I was beginning to think the tea in me could use some company." He teased.
As Thomas moved closer, Jake felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. Little did he know that this seemingly casual decision would set the stage for a series of events that would reshape the dynamics of their relationships in ways he couldn't have imagined.
Thomas's demeanor shifted, and a dominant aura enveloped him as he towered over Jake. With a wicked grin, he leaned in, his tongue emerging to sensually trace patterns across Jake's face, leaving a glossy trail of saliva in its wake.
Jake, caught in a mix of surprise and arousal, felt a shiver run down his spine. The dominant display was more than he had bargained for, but there was a certain allure to Thomas's confident and commanding presence.
As Thomas continued to lick, his teasing commentary echoed through the room. "You wanted to relax, right? Well, I'm here to make sure it's a memorable experience for you."
Jake, unable to resist the heat building within him, nodded in agreement. "Yes, I… I wanted something different."
Thomas, seemingly pleased with Jake's response, opened his mouth wide. The sight of those teeth, the expanse of his tongue, and the moist interior of his mouth created a mesmerizing spectacle. Jake, transfixed, felt a combination of excitement and anticipation.
With deliberate slowness, Thomas brought his open mouth closer to Jake's head, giving him a teasing pause. "Ready for the next part?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.
Jake, feeling the heat of the moment, nodded again. "Yeah, go for it."
Thomas didn't waste any time. He extended his tongue and, with a deliberate and sensual motion, began swallowing Jake's head. The sensation was unlike anything Jake had experienced before—being enveloped by warmth, the pressure increasing gradually as he slid further into Thomas's mouth.
As Jake descended into the darkness, he couldn't help but marvel at the intimacy of the act. The feeling of Thomas's teeth grazing against his skin, the wetness of his tongue, and the gentle pressure surrounding him created a heady mix of pleasure and surrender, and he couldn't be more grateful that he had been forward with his request.
Thomas relished the sensation of Jake's head nestled within the confines of his mouth. The warm, tight space engulfed Jake, and Thomas couldn't resist savoring the unique flavors that each part of his captive offered.
With a deliberate and practiced motion, Thomas began the process of swallowing Jake further. His hands, which had initially rested casually on Jake's torso, now came into play. Fingers pressed gently into Jake's sides, aiding the swallowing process and ensuring a smooth descent.
The fabric of Thomas's shirt stretched as Jake's form traveled lower, gradually disappearing into the voracious depths of Thomas's mouth. The sensation of Jake's descent was hot, tight, and surprisingly intimate. Thomas's throat worked rhythmically, each gulp accompanied by a low, satisfied hum.
As Jake's upper body passed the point of no return, Thomas reveled in the feel of his buttocks. The firm, plump curves were a tantalizing delight, and Thomas couldn't resist using his hands to savor the moment. Fingers kneaded into the soft flesh, ensuring every inch of Jake was embraced by the consuming journey.
Thomas's thick hands squeezed Jake's buttocks inside his mouth, relishing the feeling of the soft flesh yielding to his grasp. The act was both sensual and commanding, a testament to the control Thomas exerted over the devouring process.
As Thomas continued the deliberate swallowing, the bulge in his throat expanded, signaling Jake's gradual descent into the depths of his belly. The once-taut fabric of Thomas's shirt now strained and stretched, barely containing the increasing mass within. The sight was both enticing and provocative, the visible contours of Jake's form pressing against the fabric.
GULP!
With each successive gulp, Jake's head popped beneath the surface of Thomas's belly, causing a noticeable bulge from the outside. The fabric of Thomas's shirt clung desperately to the expanding mass within, the tight material pulled upward by the gravitational pull of Jake's journey into the man's digestive abyss.
The struggle of the fabric against the growing bulge was accentuated by the relentless swallowing. Thomas's throat worked with practiced precision, each gulp drawing Jake further into the churning depths of his belly. The once-cocky bachelor now seemed entirely consumed by the act, his concentration evident in the rhythmic motions of his throat.
The tight shirt, now strained beyond its limits, surrendered to the pressure. With a final, audible rip, the fabric gave way, exposing Thomas's expanding midsection. The bulge, no longer restrained by clothing, continued its ascent, offering a visual spectacle of Jake's gradual submersion into Thomas's digestive embrace.
Thomas's belly was much more pronounced with Jake entirely swallowed up, showcasing his curled up form beneath the bachelor's muscles. He rubbed his belly, moaning, as he let out a huge burp.
BuuuUuUuUuUuUrPPP!!
Thomas grinned, running a hand over his now exposed belly, the remnants of his torn shirt hanging from his waistband. "Well, shit, there goes my favorite gym shirt. And I thought it was tear-resistant. You owe me a new one."
He looked down at Jake's bulge inside him, the corners of his mouth curling up mischievously. "But, you know, it's worth it, just to have you all cozy in there, buddy."
Thomas reclined on his couch, feeling the subtle weight of Jake nestled within him. The torn shirt hung around his waist as a makeshift reminder of their unusual encounter. He ran a hand over his rounded belly, savoring the comforting fullness.
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As hours passed, Jake found a peculiar coziness within Thomas's belly. His words, though muffled by the fleshy confines, conveyed a sense of contentment. "So damn cozy in here," Jake's voice reverberated, the sounds dulled by the warm expanse of Thomas's belly.
The bachelor lounged, occasionally shifting in a way that cradled Jake further within him. Thomas chuckled, responding to the muffled remarks. "Yeah? Glad you're enjoying it, buddy. Just chill. We got time, and let me know when that boyfriend of yours is about to come."
Hours drifted lazily by as Thomas continued to chill on his couch, occasionally rubbing his belly as if patting a pet that lay within. Jake, within the comfortable confines of Thomas's belly, began to squirm subtly. His muffled sounds conveyed a sense of restlessness.
Jake's voice was muffled, the words barely decipherable but hinting at the desire to be released. Thomas, catching on, sat up with a casual grin. "Alright, time to set you free, little guy."
Thomas leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees, as the process of regurgitating Jake commenced. A low, guttural sound accompanied the motion, reminiscent of someone trying to force out an unexpected cough. As the first signs of Jake's reappearance became evident, a mixture of saliva and stomach acids accompanied him.
With a final, controlled heave, Jake emerged from Thomas's mouth. The dampened form of the once-swallowed man glistened, adorned with a sheen of Thomas's digestive fluids. Jake coughed and sputtered, the residue of the endosomatic adventure clinging to his form.
Thomas chuckled, leaning back as he wiped a stray droplet from the corner of his mouth. "There you go, Jake. Back to the land of the living, or at least out of my stomach."
Jake fumbled for a nearby napkin, wiping off the remnants of Thomas's digestive embrace from his face. He hesitated, glancing at Thomas with a mix of uncertainty and arousal.
"Fuck, that was hot as fuck," Jake admitted, his cheeks flushed. "Do you think, um… That maybe we could do this regularly?"
Thomas reclined on the couch, a cocky grin forming on his lips. "Regularly, huh? Well, who am I to say no? My gut's taken a liking to your round shape, and I figure I'd want to make use of this torn shirt again."
Jake, still catching his breath, grinned at Thomas. "Thanks, man. That was something else." With a casual wave, he headed back to his apartment, the door closing behind him.
In the privacy of his own place, Jake couldn't help but marvel at the wild experience. "Damn," he muttered, glancing at himself in the mirror. "Shower time before Andrew gets back."
Over the next few weeks, Jake found himself drawn to Thomas's door almost as if by an irresistible force. The frequency of his visits increased, and a peculiar routine developed—almost every time Andrew was out for work, Jake would find himself knocking on Thomas's door, eager for the sensation of being swallowed once more.
It became a clandestine affair, a secret passion that Jake couldn't resist indulging. The cozy afternoons spent nestled in Thomas's belly provided a unique escape, a refuge from the outside world. Thomas, despite his initial cockiness, seemed to enjoy the arrangement just as much.
Their encounters varied. Sometimes it was a quick, spontaneous venture, while on other occasions, Jake lingered longer, savoring the warmth and tightness of his endosoma retreat. As Thomas rubbed his belly in contentment, Jake relished the intimacy of the experience. The thrill of being swallowed, the muffled sounds of Thomas's surroundings, and the cozy darkness of his gut.
Each gulp, each audible swallow, became a part of their unspoken agreement. The torn gym shirt, now a remnant of many sessions, hung as a testament to their peculiar encounters. Thomas, ever the cocky host, reveled in the power dynamics of their arrangement. He would tease Jake with casual remarks, mocking him for how much he craved being inside him, how his gut's taking him from his boyfriend, and relishing the satisfaction of being the one in control. The muffled sounds of casual chatter, the gentle burps that followed, became routine.
One day, after weeks of their clandestine routine, Jake found himself stewing away in Thomas's gut. The familiar sensation of being enveloped in warmth and darkness was his routine escape from reality.
"Almost time for you to be out, bro," Thomas said, getting on his knees, preparing to regurgitate Jake, as they had done several times before. But, before the expected release, Jake squirmed in protest.
"Fuck, just take me," Jake said, his words muffled by the tight confinement of Thomas's gut, fully taken over by a surge of lust.
Thomas, taken aback, paused, looking at Jake with a mix of surprise and confusion. "You mean… like, for real? You want me to…?" he hesitated, gesturing toward his own belly.
Jake, caught in the moment of passion, nodded, confirming the unexpected twist in their usual routine. "Yeah, man. Digest me. Take me in. I want it," he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and abandon.
The unexpected turn left Thomas momentarily stunned, but the allure of Jake's plea proved to be too intoxicating to resist. With a smirk and a shake of his head, Thomas took a deep breath and said, "Glad you said that, a few more weeks and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from ending you whether you asked for it or not."
Thomas sat back, a casual air about him as he reclined, teasing Jake about the gravity of his words. "You know, bro, you just signed up for the no do-overs, no take-backs deal. You're in my gut now, and you're gonna stay there."
Jake, a mix of excitement and realization playing on his features, squirmed a bit, confirming his acceptance of the unspoken agreement. "Yeah, man, no turning back. I'm all in."
Thomas, with a mischievous grin, decided to take Jake's commitment to a new level. "Alright, bro, you signed up for the 'no more talking' package too." taking Jake's acceptance as a cue, tightened his gut, muffling Jake's words almost to the point of illegibility. With a smug smirk, Thomas leaned back, basking in the moment as he let out a colossal burp that reverberated through the air.
BuuUuUuUurP!
The sound echoed around the room, a declaration of the new reality they had both willingly entered. Thomas, still chuckling casually, patted his slightly bulging belly, sealing the unspoken contract between them. The muffled, indistinct sounds from within only served to emphasize the intimate connection they now shared.
Thomas glanced at the buzzing phone, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like someone's missing their boy, huh?" he teased, waving Jake's phone in the air. "Got a bunch of missed calls and texts. Your boyfriend's probably worried sick about where you are."
He chuckled, placing the phone on a nearby table. "Man, I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out where you really are. In this big, bulging gut of mine." Thomas patted his belly with a satisfied grin. "But we'll let him stew in curiosity a bit longer. Gotta savor the anticipation, you know?" Thomas said, as he headed to his bedroom.
He sprawled across his bed, one arm behind his head, the other idly rubbing his rounded belly. The bulge from Jake's presence was noticeable, a testament to the intimate arrangement inside. He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, as he felt Jake squirming within him.
"First night you're staying this long, bro," Thomas remarked, speaking into the empty room. "Better get used to it because, after tonight, you're not coming out. You're gonna be part of me for the last few nights of your life." He shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and let out a contented sigh. "Sweet dreams, man."
The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on Thomas as he woke up, his gut still pronounced from the previous night's indulgence. Stretching languidly, he sat up, feeling the weight of Jake nestled within him.
Yawning, Thomas got out of bed and ambled towards the bathroom. The tiled floor felt cool beneath his feet. Leaning over the sink, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. With a toothbrush in hand, he began scrubbing his teeth clean.
As he brushed his teeth, his gaze shifted to the protruding belly that pressed against the edge of the sink. Thomas grinned cockily, aware that Jake was experiencing his morning routine for the first time.
"Morning, Jake, you good in there?" Thomas teased, speaking as if Jake could hear him. "Can't quite make out what you'd be saying, but I thought the gesture was nice." He chuckled, imagining Jake's muffled protests from within the confines of his gut.
Finishing up in the bathroom, Thomas got ready for the day ahead, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
As Thomas went about his day, the vibrations of Jake's phone periodically echoed in the room, a persistent reminder of the outside world that seemed increasingly distant. Each buzz was a testament to Andrew's growing worry and curiosity.
Teasingly, Thomas leaned back and patted his belly, as if saying to Jake that he's here to stay. "You know, bro, I think your body's getting a little softer in there. I'm known to have a rough digestion."
From Jake's perspective, the world inside Thomas's gut was undergoing a slow transformation. His clothes, once distinguishable, were becoming indistinct as they melded with the acids. The sensation was peculiar and, at times, disorienting, as his skin slowly melted; It was pleasant, it felt cozier than any of the previous time he's been in here, but it was still disorienting.
The muffled sound of Andrew's persistent calls and messages on Jake's phone served as a distant background noise, a stark contrast to the cocoon of warmth and semi-darkness that enveloped Jake within Thomas's belly.
On the second day, Jake's form inside Thomas's gut underwent a notable transformation. The once distinct features of his body were now indiscernible, a result of the ongoing process of digestion. The clothes that clung to him had long since lost their original form, merging with the liquefying remnants of Jake's physique.
Thomas, perhaps subconsciously or out of growing curiosity, patted his belly, noting a subtle change. The solid tautness that characterized Jake's initial presence was giving way to a softer, more pliable feel. The acids worked persistently, melting away the boundaries of Jake's form. It wasn't an ethereal or surreal process; it was the gritty reality of digestion, the breaking down of flesh and bone into a churning mixture, but despite that it still felt good to Jake.
The sudden, impatient knocking on the door jolted Thomas from his casual reverie. He swung the door open, and there stood Andrew, a mix of worry and irritation etched across his face.
"Hey, sorry to bother you this early, but have you seen Jake?" Andrew asked, his concern evident in his tone. "He's been missing for two days, and I'm getting really worried."
Thomas, wearing a hoodie that conveniently hid the changes in his midsection, shook his head. "Nah, man, haven't seen him. Sorry." There was an apologetic note in his voice as he subtly adjusted the hoodie.
"Fuck," Andrew said, seeming distressed and unaware of Thomas's gut. "Sorry. Just… Let me know if you ever do, okay?" He said, as he continued to the other apartments to ask his other neighbors.
Thomas closed the door and laid back against it, he couldn't resist a teasing smirk. He lifted the hoodie, revealing the slightly softer, bulging gut beneath. "All it took is a lift of my hoodie to show him where ya went. Too bad he'll never figure it out." he remarked, the cocky edge still present in his voice, as Jake squirmed inside his acid-filled gut.
On the third day, Thomas decided to hit the gym, his usual routine slightly altered by the recent addition of Jake to his physique. The once-toned bachelor now sported more of a dad bod, and a slight beer belly had developed, a testament to Jake's presence in his gut.
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As he prepared for the workout, Thomas couldn't resist teasing Jake. "Well, bro, today's gonna be a tough one on you. Might speed up your digestion a bit," he quipped with a chuckle. "But hey, I figure I'll make the most of the gains from eating you. Gotta look more attractive when you're gone, right?" The casual banter flowed easily, as he got to exercise his muscles.
Thomas began his gym session with some heavy deadlifts, the weight clanging against the floor with each controlled drop. The impact reverberated through his core, the vibrations felt by Jake nestled within the confines of his bulging belly. With each lift, Thomas's abdominal muscles flexed and tightened, pressing against Jake in rhythmic pulses.
Moving on to bench presses, Thomas lay back on the bench, the pressure of the weights causing his gut to push outward. Jake, caught in the middle of this bodily symphony, experienced the compression and release as Thomas completed each repetition. Sweat glistened on Thomas's forehead, a testament to the exertion he was putting into the workout.
Transitioning to squats, Thomas's movements became more dynamic. As he descended into the squat position, Jake was subjected to the pressure between Thomas's thighs, a sensation that intensified with each rise. The fabric of Thomas's shorts stretched tightly over his expanding waistline, a visible reminder of Jake's presence within.
The stair climber machine was next on Thomas's agenda. With each step, the rhythmic impact resonated through his body, creating a gentle rocking motion for Jake. The pressure on Thomas's midsection increased, and Jake felt the subtle shifts as his surroundings changed with each step.
Finally, Thomas engaged in some core exercises, targeting his abs directly. Crunches and leg raises emphasized the region where Jake was nestled. The compression intensified with each repetition, the steady burn of the workout echoed within Thomas's bulging gut.
Throughout the entire routine, Thomas's banter continued. "You feeling the burn, bro?" he teased, fully aware of the unique experience Jake was undergoing within the confines of his ever-changing gut.
As the days progressed, Jake's once-solid form continued its relentless transformation within the acidic confines of Thomas's stomach. The digestive juices worked with ruthless efficiency, breaking down Jake's flesh and bones into a formless mass. The initial resistance of his physical structure gave way to the corrosive power of the stomach acids, reducing him to a mixture of liquid and dissolved remnants.
The process was slow and methodical. Jake's consciousness began to wane, his awareness slipping away in sync with the dissolution of his physical being. He became entangled in the chemical dance of digestion, losing touch with the boundaries of his form as the acids invaded every nook and cranny of his thick form.
The sensation was a paradoxical blend of pleasure and obliteration. Jake, in his reduced state, was suspended in a state of half-consciousness, afloat in the warm, corrosive embrace of Thomas's stomach. The once-distinct features of his body blurred into a formless, melted amalgamation, his essence merging with the strong digestive acids of Thomas.
As the dissolution progressed, Jake's thoughts became fragmented, his sense of self dissolving along with his body. The blissful haze of digestion enveloped him, a surreal journey into the abyss of being broken down and absorbed.
Thomas reclined on his couch, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips. His fingers drummed lazily on his bloated midsection, now transformed into a softer, beer-belly dad bod. The once-defined muscles were replaced by a plump layer, evidence of Jake's gradual assimilation into Thomas's physique.
"Look at this," Thomas mused, patting his slightly flattened stomach. "You're almost all mine, bro. I've been digesting you real good. Your essence is now part of what makes me, well, me. Bet you can't even comprehend that with how melted you are."
He let out a hearty belch, the sound reverberating through his sloshy midsection. Thomas's arrogance echoed in his words, a mix of crass amusement and self-satisfaction.
"You thought you could handle being in my gut regularly, but look at you now. Just a sloshy mess, melting away into nothingness. And here I am, getting beefier, looking better than ever," he continued, chuckling at the thought. "You're practically my personal enhancement, bro. A little seasoning to make me even more irresistible."
Thomas shifted, adjusting his posture to emphasize the changes in his physique. The casual arrogance in his voice painted a vivid picture of a man reveling in the results of his unconventional dietary choices.
"In a few more days, you'll be nothing but a memory, a part of my gains. Can't say it wasn't a good run for you, though. The best thing you did was willingly dive into my gut."
Thomas stepped out of his apartment and immediately encountered Andrew in the hallway, looking disheveled and anxious. Andrew's eyes widened at the noticeable change in Thomas's physique.
"Dude, have you seen Jake? I've been going out of my mind looking for him," Andrew pleaded, concern etched on his face. "You know what, don't fucking answer. I know you would've told me if you had already."
Thomas feigned innocence, scratching his head. "It's good, dude. Jake? Uhh, not sure, man. I mean, I've seen a lot of people around, you know? Can't keep track of everyone." He said, "Maybe he ghosted you or something. It happens. But hey," He gave Andrew a pat on the shoulder, "I'm here for ya if you need me, dude."
"Thanks, man." Andrew said insincerely, wanting nothing more than to know where his boyfriend went, but still appreciating the offer.
As they moved further away from each other, Thomas couldn't resist a sly grin, his hand casually rubbing his now beefier belly. "Damn, Jake. Not a word to your worried boyfriend? Never took you for the silent type." He teased as his stomach growled, knowing that Jake wasn't in a state to respond let alone comprehend, only existing for a few more days before he's fully digested down by the bigger man.
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mackeydoodledoo · 4 months ago
Text
A Taste of your Heart: Chapter 1
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Pairing: Bridget x (Fem!)Reader: Ashlynn Hood
Chapter Summary: Being the daughter of Robin Hood is not the most easiest thing to live down. Even when you try to not steal, you always find yourself doing. But, never out of selfish needs. The only selfish steal you want to embark on is Bridget's heart.
Chapter Warnings: School Bullying
Chapter Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italic = Singing
Chapter Theme: Color - Finish Ticket
A/n: AU where Red doesn't change Bridget's history, but someone else does.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
*Bridget's POV* You walk to Honors Alchemy, carrying your cupcakes. It was your specialty. You loved baking and sharing it with everyone.
As you look up, you see her...
"A-Ashlynn!" You call out to her
"Oh... Hey..." She says, uninterested, "You're.... Bridget right? From Wonderland?"
You happily nod, "That's me."
You look down at your tray and begin scrambling to remove the tray cover. However, just when you were about to present one to her, she was gone...
+*+
"Bridget, Ella, we have two new transfers, would you two split up and help them out please?" Merlin asks
One sits next to you whilst the other sits next to Ella.
"Are you okay?" You ask them
"First day jitters...." They explain
"Ahh, I know the perfect remedy," You say, "Try my fabulous Pink Flamingo Feather Cupcakes."
"Flamingo Feathers?" They ask
"Mhm," You say
They reluctantly take one however savor the first bite.
"I only recommend one since ingesting more would cause... Side effects," You say
+*+
After class, you begin passing cupcakes out to everyone.
The sun shines a little more brightly When you take things a little more lightly It's all gonna turn out nicely With just a taste of your heart It's likely you'll fall into something spicy Just mix it up, you'll keep finding That life is sweeter when you are
"So, you're friends with everyone?" The new transfer asks
"Oh, heavens no," You chuckle it off, "My only friend is Ella."
Another person takes a cupcake from your tray.
"But, with time, and enough treats, they will be," You say, your eyes drifting up the tower
A girl sitting on the windowsill; her eyes drift down to you, but then adverts to another direction.
"Even the loners..." You sigh, "That's Ashlynn Hood, Robin Hood's daughter."
"Her crush," Ella whispers to the transfers
"Hey! No!" You blush, "I just want to make sure she's included as well."
You take a single cupcake from the tray and hide it away.
"You seem to really have a soft spot for Ashlynn," The second transfer teases you
"She's the only one that has yet to be given anything from me," you explain, "So, I'm going to make sure she gets something today."
You all hear maniacal laughter and many different footsteps coming into the courtyard.
Hook for a hand, find the golden hook Captain of the seas, I got 'em all shook
Son of Morgana, Serpentine Morgie's the name Better run and hide
Oh no...
The VKs.... Merlin Academy's bullies....
No matter...
The sun shines a little more brightly The dark is a little enticing It's all gonna turn out nicely With just a taste of your heart
It's likely, we'll make it all much more frightening Just mix it up, you'll keep finding That life is sweeter when you are Seeing things brightly When you take things a little more lightly Just mix it up, you'll keep finding That life is sweeter when you are
Uliana takes a cupcake...
"Thank you," She says
"Uh, sure.. Anything for-"
"For all... Of them," Her tentacle snatches the plate and holds it high in the air, "They're supposed to be... Really rare right?"
"Hey!" Ella yells, "Give those back!"
"Oh... I don't speak peasant girl," She mocks, "I love your outfit... It's so... Put together."
You listen to a ripping noise...
The VKs begin to laugh at Ella's not ripped clothing...
"My name is Bridget, and I bribe people with treats to be my friend because I'm such a loner!" Uliana mocks you
"Hey!" A voice yells, echoing throughout the courtyard
All of you watch as the person climbs and then leaps from the balcony, going into a roll before effortlessly standing to her feet. You watch as she walks up to you. She swings her arm over your shoulder.
"I thought, we all agreed that the 'Loner' title, belongs to me," She says, smirking, "Even with a single friend... Doesn't count as being a loner. Now give those back... Or I'll rip those tentacles right off your back."
"Please, I only wanted the feathers," She says, "You! Can have the rest."
Her tentacle drops the plate... Ruining the remaining cupcakes you had...
"Now-Now hold your tentacle-"
"Hold on lass," Hook walks up to Ashlynn, "Why don't we take this after school?"
"We did," She says, "Want to relay to everyone what happened then?"
His smile drops and frantically looks around to wondering eyes. He backs off.
"That's what I thought..." She says
"W-wait!" You try to stop Uliana
She looks at you.
"That's... Too many!" You try to reason with her
She only chuckles and ingests every feather that was left.
"You're just jealous of my fabulosity," She says
"What fabulosity is there to be jealous of exactly?" Ashlynn asks her
A handful of classmates; both good and bad, 'ooh' at her comment. Uliana walks up to the both of you, Ashlynn brushing you behind her.
"Listen here, Loner, I don't know where your mouth runs, but-"
She backs into you as Uliana squawks....
All of you watch as Uliana turns into a Flamingo...
"Bridget... Did... Warn you..." Ashlynn points out, trying not to burst out laughing
But that doesn't satisfy her... She charges at the both of you.
"Come on Pinky Pie!" She grabs your hand
The both of you run...
"I'm sorry Uliana, I tried to warn you!" Bridget continues trying to reason with her
*Ashlynn's POV* "Bridget just run!" You continue pulling her to run
You run into the courtyard her dorm building.
"Almost there!" You yell
However, Maleficent and Hook appear in the doorway. You lose your grip on Bridget's hand and she continues to run.
"Hello darling," Hook greets you, "I just want to have little chat with your little girlfriend."
You turn to see her cornered at the fountain...
"Bridget!" You yelp, pulling her into you, watching Uliana fall into a fountain, "I know a place we can go. Come on..."
You push the VK lackeys out of the way as you take Bridget to your perch.
+*+
"Did you really have to bring us up here?" Bridget asks, trying to adjust herself to feel comfortable
"Mmmm," You lowly growl, "Did you want me to take you somewhere where they'll find you easily?"
She doesn't answer...
"Didn't think so," You scoff, "I don't understand how you're being nice to them... They don't deserve your kindness..."
"Everyone is deserving of kindness," Bridget says, "No matter how mean, cruel, or evil they are.... They deserve to have kindness..."
"Sometimes I don't understand how you can harbor so much kindness," You scoff
"Ashlynn..." Bridget starts
"Ash... For short," You clarify
You watch as she reaches somewhere and pulls out one of her cupcakes.
"You never come around so... I saved one for you," She says
"Just for me?" You ask, slightly smiling
You take the cupcake and bite the feather. As soon as you ingested the feather, you felt lighter... Happier.
"Apparently I've been stuck in my nest too long," You chuckle, "Sorry I didn't come see you sooner. You just... You make me nervous."
"Me?" She asks, "Make you nervous?"
She gasps and your arm reaches out and wraps itself around her hip. As she steadies herself, her gaze travels up to yours.
"Why do you spend so much time alone?" She asks
"It's... Hard to figure out where I fit in more," You answer, "I steal... So that would make me a 'villain'. But, I do it for good reason.... So that would make me a 'hero'.... But, I hate trying to decide. I go to either or, and it's like I get so many..."
"Many negative looks?" She asks
"Yeah... Exactly," You say
"I got those when I arrived here on my first day," She explains, "That's why I bake... I bake so they could one day see me as a good person and want to be my friend."
The both of you finally settle into the space comfortably...
"Well, you have your baking," You slightly smile, "I only have my Archery skills."
"Which that makes you Captain of the Archery Team!" Bridget points out, "Who brought us to victory three years straight!"
"Means nothing to everyone apparently," You sigh
Your eyes travel out to the courtyard, then beyond...
"I come up here to be away from eyes that see me as both a villain or hero," You explain, "To be in my own little world... You know?.... Kind of like how baking is for you... Right?"
"Yeah," She says, "I'm sorry that you don't feel like you have a place here...."
"It's nothing that you can change," You sigh, "That's the reality of being an anti-hero..."
"For what it's worth... You don't seem like the anti-hero to me," She says
She puts her hand on your shoulder. She gives you a slight smile before retracting her hand. You finish the last bit of the cupcake.
"Oh... Ash... You got a little..." She tries to point out
"What?...." You try to find it
"Here, let me," She says
Her hand touches your cheek gently, and she uses her thumb to wipe off frosting from the corner of your lip.
"Thanks... Bridget," You clear your throat
"So... Why up here?" She asks, "I thought this would be exclusive to... You."
"It was the only place that came to mind in the moment," You say, "Well, it's not a spot solely for me now."
Bridget's eyes light up, "Are we going to have picnic dates here?"
You nod. She practically jumps into your arms as she gives you the biggest hug ever. As she straightens herself out, your eyes travel to her lips, then back to her eyes.
"Uhh... Come on," You clear your throat, "Ella might be missing you right now..."
Chapter 2
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