#What to do if you fall for a loan scam?

[fincrif]

How to Avoid Personal Loan Scams?

With the increasing demand for personal loans, fraudulent lenders and scams have also surged. Scammers often prey on unsuspecting borrowers, promising quick approvals and low-interest rates while charging hidden fees or stealing personal information. To safeguard yourself from personal loan scams, it is crucial to stay informed and vigilant.

Common Types of Personal Loan Scams

1. Upfront Fee Scams

Fraudsters ask for advance processing fees or insurance charges before disbursing the loan. Once the payment is made, they disappear without providing the loan.

2. Fake Lender Scams

Scammers pose as legitimate financial institutions, using professional-looking websites and fake credentials to lure borrowers into providing sensitive information.

3. Identity Theft Scams

Fraudsters collect personal details such as PAN, Aadhaar, or banking information to misuse identities and take out loans in the victim’s name.

4. Phishing Emails and SMS Scams

Fake emails and SMS messages claiming to offer pre-approved loans often contain malicious links that steal personal and financial data.

5. No Credit Check Loans

Legitimate lenders assess credit scores before approving a loan. Scammers offering guaranteed loans with no credit check often charge hidden fees or impose extremely high-interest rates.

How to Identify a Personal Loan Scam?

1. Verify the Lender’s Credibility

Always research the lender’s background. Check for registration details with regulatory authorities like the RBI, reviews from previous borrowers, and official contact details.

2. Avoid Upfront Payment Requests

Legitimate financial institutions do not ask for large fees before loan disbursement. Any demand for advance payment is a red flag.

3. Check the Official Website

Ensure that the lender’s website starts with ‘https://’ and verify its authenticity through official domain registration details.

4. Read Loan Terms Carefully

Fraudsters often hide fees and unfavorable terms in loan agreements. Always read and understand the terms before signing.

5. Be Cautious of Unsolicited Loan Offers

If you receive an unexpected loan offer via email, SMS, or phone calls, verify its authenticity before proceeding.

6. Protect Your Personal Information

Never share sensitive details like OTPs, passwords, or banking credentials with unknown sources.

Steps to Take If You Encounter a Loan Scam

1. Report the Scam

Inform authorities like the RBI, cybercrime cell, or consumer protection agencies about the fraudulent lender.

2. Contact Your Bank

If you have shared banking details, immediately notify your bank to secure your accounts and prevent unauthorized transactions.

3. Monitor Your Credit Report

Regularly check your credit report for any unauthorized loans or activities linked to your identity.

Trusted Lenders for Personal Loans

Personal Loan - FinCrif

Personal loan scams are becoming more sophisticated, making it essential to remain cautious and conduct thorough research before applying for a loan. Always verify lender details, avoid upfront payments, and protect your sensitive information. If an offer seems too good to be true, it probably is.

For a secure and transparent loan application process, visit FinCrif today!

[noctiva]

Seeking An Immediate Response

X-Virus x F!Reader [NSFW!]

-

-

WC: 17.4k

Summary: As a college student struggling to make ends meet, an ad for a medical trial in your local newspaper promising big bucks for minimal work seems like a sign from heaven. Maybe, you should’ve read the fine print.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, dubious consent, CNC I guess??, mentions of noncon, dead dove very dead dove, use of needles and medical tools, aphrodisiacs, spit and drool, medical kink? I guess? Is there a word for that?, overstimulation, wet and messy, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male receiving), sort of kind of mocking, degradation, slight dummification, unsafe sex, hair pulling, kind of rough handling, misuse of medical equipment, coercion, dacryphilia, power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, kidnapping, again - DEAD DOVE. THE DOVE IS DEAD!!!! don’t come at me I don’t wanna hear it

-

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

-

‘Wanted: A willing participant to partake in a trial run of a drug soon to hit the market.

Driving expenses will not be covered, but any adverse reactions will be compensated for - as well as a payment of $1000 USD for every day the participant is active in the trial.

If interested, or for any further questions, contact at the email below.

Seeking an immediate response.’

You skimmed over those words for what felt like a million times over. Sat hunched over your kitchen table, the waxy feel of the newspaper you held slipped against your fingers. Your coffee cup has been abandoned, steam long dissipated, a wrinkle in your brow as your eyes traced over the letters before you yet another time.

It just didn’t seem real. Didn’t seem plausible. You had heard of instances like this before - partaking in some lab trial to earn a hefty chunk of change. Hell, your old roommate had even done it herself, spending a week at a lab getting poked and prodded at, just to return a couple hundred dollars richer.

But this? Your eyes are wide as they hone in on the dollar amount. One thousand dollars a day? Was that a typo? Or was it just a scam designed to easily lure in people like you?

People who were currently eating plain, dry bread for breakfast, because most of the weight of your paycheck had gone into student loans. It was easy for you to see the payout offered and immediately go slack jawed, a half-chewed bite of bread falling out of your mouth and hitting your dining table. If you participated for just one single day it would be enough to lift a pretty heavy weight off of your shoulders. If you participated for more than that (a week’s worth of that kind of money almost made you feel dizzy) maybe you’d actually be able to go eat out at a restaurant for once. Maybe, you’d be able to buy a brand new pair of jeans, instead of sewing up reoccurring holes in your old ones.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Something that seemed as if it was written just for you. Too good to be true, almost.

’A trial run for a drug soon to hit the market’. You purse your lips together. ‘Any adverse reactions will be compensated for.’ There weren’t a whole lot of details. In fact, there was really barely any. No name of the drug, no expected duration of the trial, no location or name of the company that was supposedly conducting this entire program. Just a small wall of text, barely more than a paragraph, but words picked out just meticulously to entice.

It seemed horribly sketchy. Barely any ounce of trustworthiness encoded within those words. It was almost like a taunt. Who’s going to be stupid enough to agree? Who’s desperate enough to turn a blind eye towards the jarring inconsistencies?

You. You were.

You could feel it in your bones. Taste it on your tongue. That desperation that was clawing its way up out of your chest, nearly drooling at this opportunity - dangling money over your head like you were dog on a leash too tight. It made your fingers itch, twitching and jolting with the desire to race over to your laptop and send an email as quickly as you could.

You were smarter than this. You knew you were. But desperation is the ultimate demoralizer. So, despite the clear danger, you find yourself rationalizing.

Maybe, the only couldn’t give the name of the drug due to copyright purposes.

Maybe, they didn’t name themselves because they’re too big of a company. Wanting to retain anonymity in order to not sway responses.

Maybe, that’s the same reason they didn’t give the location of the study right away.

They’d probably answer all of your questions, if you just shot them a message.

Besides, what was the harm in just… Asking? All you needed to do was satiate your curiosity a little bit. Give it a morsel to pick at, so that it wasn’t left to scratch at the bars of your mind - leaving you shaking where you sat. You don’t even know how long you just sat there, your coffee cooling beside you and your lacklustre breakfast all but completely forgotten about. Long enough for you to memorize the ad complete, having read over the words so many times that your eyes started to feel dry. You don’t even know if you’ve blinked. Breathed. Absolutely shellshocked by what the universe had decided to present you with today.

Was this fate? It had to be. Maybe, god had seen you struggling, and decided to extend a hand out towards you. All you had to do, was take it.

You don’t message back right away. You fold the newspaper back up on your kitchen table, pour out your freezing cup of coffee into the sink, and do your dishes. You walk back to your room, go through your closet, and find a comfortable outfit to wear for your classes that day. Brush teeth, brush hair, make sure you have a pair of headphones in your bag before you leave. Going through the motions of the day, actions that you’ve repeated so many times that you feel as if you’re on autopilot.

On a normal day, but today its increased tenfold. You barely even feel mentally present as you tug a pair of jeans over your hips, eyes far away and foggy as you stare blankly at yourself in the bathroom mirror while brushing your teeth. You just couldn’t stop thinking about it. At the vagueness of that message. Of the opportunities you’d be presented with if you went ahead and did it.

On your walk to class you’re doing math in your head of how much wiggle room you’d be left with if you sent half of the money over to paying for your schooling. Maybe, you could just keep all of it and continue sending over your paychecks instead. Maybe, if you kept finding listings like this you could just… Quit.

In class, you’re worse. Your professors words aren’t even reaching your ears. Just a monotonous drone that barely even sounds like the English language as you sit stewing in your thoughts. Maybe you could buy that nice sweater you saw when you were out window shopping last week. It was only $100 - that was barely a dent. You could fill your cart at the grocery store too! Fill it to the brim with items you’ve had to pass up on time and time again because they just didn’t make it into the budget. Fresh meats, ice cream, the good bread that’s nice and fluffy instead of stale before you even get it out of the bag.

By the time your classes are over for the day, you’ve all but convinced yourself. It’s just hard not to. Not to think about how much better your life would be if you participated. How quickly your quality of life would raise just but barely lifting a finger.

When your old roommate did it, all she had to do was let herself get pricked with a needle once and she was rolling in cash. You could only assume it would be a similar situation for you, and the idea of that is pretty much the definition of enticing. Free money. You’re being offered free money. And a lot more than you had seen other people make from something like this in the past.

Maybe there’s a reason for that. Maybe the risk is higher.

Regardless, you’re pulling your laptop out of your bag mere minutes after stepping back through the front door of your apartment. Kicking off your shoes lazily, you scurry over to your couch with such urgency that you nearly trip over your rug. But, you make it, stanching the newspaper off of the kitchen table where you left it before you flop down onto the worn cushions. With your laptop perched in your lap, your flip the paper back open to the page where you had first seen the ad. Right at the back, squished in with a whole bunch of other advertisements that had paid to be there. So unassuming. No pictures, or logos, just text. Easily skipped over.

But not by you. You’re typing up an email in record time, eyeing the email address printed to make sure you get it correct.

’To whom it may concern,

I came across your listing for a medical trial in my newspaper, and I’m very interested in participating.

Could I ask for a few more details? Are there any specific requirements for being in the trial? What sort of drug is it? Any known side effects?

And, who are you exactly? A research company, or is this a university study?

Regardless, I’m interested. I could really use the money haha’

You’re not quite sure why you tacked on that last little line at the end, but it must’ve been your desperation seeping through. A little bit of candidness in the hopes that whoever was reading your response would realize that they were talking to a real, living and breathing human. Hopefully, that would encourage them to be just as honest with you as you were being with them.

You hit send, and let out a deep breath. Again, no harm in just simply asking.

Knowing not to expect a response right away, you set your laptop on the coffee table before you and stand up once more. Socked feet padding against carpeted flooring as you mosey over to your kitchen, searching for something to warm your stomach after a full day of stress and overthinking. You already know what you’ll be eating, and one quick look within your cupboard confirms that notion.

Instant noodles, again. God, you really did need that money. Hungry, but your appetite is barely excited to be fulfilled with the same damn meal you’ve eaten for weeks on end. You can taste it on your tongue before you even make it. Bland noodles. Broth that has far too much salt in it. A sprinkling of dehydrated vegetables that turn to mush the moment they meet the water.

And yet, you pull out a pot anyway. Fill it with water life you’ve done so many time before. Set it on the stovetop and turn the burner on to high heat because of your impatience. Monotony. Something that might just be fixed if you can get a little bit more cash in your pockets.

Money wasn’t everything, and you knew that, but it sure as hell helped.

The water barely comes to a simmer before you hear your laptop chime. Almost too soon to be from who you were hoping it would be, and yet you’re racing back over to the couch immediately - fuelled by hope and desperate desire. Knowing its pathetic, but not caring in the least. The more you thought about it, the more you knew you needed it. The more you hated the situation you found yourself in. The more you wanted something better.

And maybe, life decided to be on your side for once.

Sitting in your inbox, bold lettering that makes you eyes widen to an almost painful degree.

’Drug trial inquiry.’

You click on the message so quickly it makes your finger cramp, the meal you had been cooking completely forgotten about even as the pot on the stove reaches its peak. Steaming and sputtering drops of water over the edge, but you couldn’t care less. You were too busy obsessing.

’Hello, thank you for your interest in our study.

No specific requirements are required for the trial, besides wanting someone between the ages of 18-24, with no pre-existing medical conditions,

Do you meet those perimeters? We’d love to meet you if you do.’

That was all it said. Short and sweet, only answering one of the five questions you had inquired about. And the one they picked, required the least amount of information to be leaked. It was avoidant. Barely professional. It made goosebumps rise on your arms and trickle down to your fingertips, which had begun to tremble.

Everything just seemed… Wrong. Too much money, too little information. Too good to be true. So many warning signs. Like they were giving you ample time to see that this was a trap just lying in wait. But, they (whoever they were) had struck gold when it came to you, because you were just too curious.

Just too desperate.

‘Hi,

I do meet those requirements, but you seem to have missed the rest of my questions? Do you think you could clarify on those fronts? I’d much rather know what exactly I’m getting into before I take the plunge.’

You type out the message with a frown tugging at your lips, your heart thudding to a frantic beat in your chest. Your skin feels cold, head feels fuzzy. Worry and dread swirling together in your skull to create a whole new emotion - one that wreaked havoc. One that made you feel a little nauseous as you hit the send button.

One that had you needing to close your eyes and take a deep breath as you awaited a new response.

You get one even quicker this time.

Your laptop chimes again mere moments after you had sent your last message. If you had timed it, you wouldn’t have been surprised to see that it was less than a minute of wait time. Like they had been sat at their own computer, just as eager as you, just as frantic as they waited for a response.

The sirens in your brain just blared louder.

’Hello,

I did not miss them. If you’re still interested, the address below will have all of your answers.

Tomorrow, nine am sharp. No earlier, no later. If you miss your chance that is on you.’

You could throw up. You feel like you might do just that, as you sit on your couch with bated breath, your mouth feeling drier than a desert. If you were getting bad vibes before, now they were horrible. The words of that email were desperately clinging to the facade of professionalism, but it wasn’t working. Not at all. Admitting to their own avoidance of important questions. Odd ambiguity. A bad idea all wrapped up in a concise paragraph.

You don’t recognize the address. It’s not somewhere close by. Not somewhere in the city, if you had to guess. One quick google search revealed that it was far off of the beaten trail, not a single laboratory in sight as you scanned the images on street view. Nothing but dirt trails and jagged trees. The photos staticy and blurry, like they had been taken ages upon ages ago.

Like no one had been there in a very, very long time.

You gulp thickly, Swallowing back the bile rising in your throat as you try to regulate your breathing. The pot on your stove boils over, water hitting the burner and evaporating instantly. You don’t even look at it.

But you do send another email.

’$1000 a day right, that wasn’t a typo?’

Short and sweet. Just like they had been.

And even though you’re expecting now, an even quicker response sends a chill down your spine. Mere seconds after you’ve sent your own correspondence now. Like an echo of your own message, bouncing off of the walls of cyberspace and straight back to you in a fraction of a minute.

’$1000 a day. Nine am. I will be here.

Will you?’

A beckoning call. That’s what that was, and you knew it. It didn’t sound like a confirmation for an appointment, something they were scribbling down within a calendar. It sounded like a taunt.

I have what you want. Are you brave enough to come get it?

That’s what it sounded like. It sounded cruel. Sarcastic, even. Like they knew what you were going to respond with before your email even pinged on their end.

And well, you just play right into whatever sick twisted game this was. Scared, apprehensive, but hopeful. Hopeful that this was what you were hoping it would be. Something easy and quick, something that would leave your pockets heavier without much distress.

Something that you wouldn’t regret.

‘I’ll be there. I want to see the cash up front when I get there.’

You barely even get the words typed down properly, fingers flying across your keyboard like you were trying to respond before you could think about the situation fully. Hands trembling, the message is wracked with typos that you have to go back and correct, giving you one more chance to really mill it over before you bit the bullet.

This wasn’t smart. You knew it wasn’t. Everything about this - from the grandiose benefits to the strange communication with whoever was leading the entire thing. They didn’t sound like a researcher, or a correspondent of one.

They sounded like someone who was trying to trap you.

You send the email anyway. Eyes squeezed close as you hit the send button with more force than you needed to. Like you were ripping off a bandaid.

And the response you get back, just pours salt in the wound.

One word. One simple word. Packing within it more than the person on the other side of the screen could ever know. Or maybe, they did know. Maybe that’s why they said it.

‘Greedy.’

And you know right then, that you aren’t talking to someone who has your best interests in mind. You’re talking to someone who’s toying with you - tugging you around like a marionette on strings. Someone who was finding a sick pleasure in knowing that they had something you would quite possibly endanger yourself over.

Someone who was mocking you, and making sure that you knew it.

Sitting behind their own screen, probably grinning like a madman as the glow of their computer lights up their features in a cool virtual blue. Waiting for you to respond, because they know that you will, even if they only sent you one simple word. That one word was bait, the worm on a hook for a gullible little guppie like you, just taunting you with the promise of salvation. All you had to do was bite.

You do.

‘Who are you?’

You’re far past formalities, far past pretending that this was a professional correspondence. This conversation had devolved. Devolved from the fallacy of a patient and a doctor, to the king and his jester. And boy, did you sure know how to dance.

‘Who do you want me to be? A doctor? A researcher? Some undergrad student?

Does it matter, at the end of the day? You’re still going to be wishing you said yes, if you don’t. You’re still going to be sat in your shitty little apartment, wondering what you could’ve been doing instead if you had a couple more bucks in your pocket.

We both know what this is.

You, are someone so desperate for cash that you’re willing to keep talking to me even though I’m sure you’re having second thoughts by now.

I am a person looking for a participant to test something I’ve been working on, and I’m willing to pay to make that happen.

This is my last message to you. I have said to you everything that you need to know. If you want to know more then meet me at nine am.

Ask for Cody.’

The message reeked of annoyance and frustration. Like whoever this was (Cody? Is that who you’re speaking to right now?) was peeved for your undying curiosity. Growing more and more irritated at the fact that you weren’t just rolling over so easily. Receptive, clearly, but too damn nosy.

And so, they dropped the act. You hadn’t noticed it until right then - but the pronouns they had been using had switched after the first message they had sent you. “We” swapped for “I”. A slip of the fingers, maybe, but it spelled out the truth for you regardless, even more than the email you had just read did.

This was not some easy, cut and dry drug trial. This wasn’t a professional lab, with protocols to follow, and controlled environments. This was just… Some guy. Some guy searching for an ignorant slew of people to test his homemade concoction on. Like a child in his basement, mixing up ‘potions‘ for his parents to try out. You had known from the beginning that this was something fishy, but you felt far over your head now. Staring at this wall of text before you, slack jawed and wide eyed, your rumbling stomach is long since forgotten - replaced by a sickening wave of nausea that you were sure would’ve weakened your knees if you were still standing.

So bad, that you lift a hand to your mouth, as if to try and catch the vomit you could feel churning in your gut. You could feel your mouth start to water, feel a cold clamminess bead up on your palms. Your body somehow too hot but too cold at the same time. Ears ringing, the room spinning around you as you reread those same few paragraphs over and over again. Your free hand finds the trackpad and you scroll, going over each and every message the two of you had bounced between one another. The pool of dread in your gut just growing headier and headier every time you pass your eyes over what you had said. What they had said.

How they had just dropped the persona completely, once they knew that they had hooked you.

Maybe, it was your own fault. If anything, they had probably known they had gotten you from the very first message.

‘Regardless, I’m interested. I could really use the money.’ A try at honesty to gain trust, and yet all it had done was place a target on your back. From the start, it had been clear just who you were.

Someone so desperate for cash that you were willing to keep talking to them. They had read you like a damn book, front and back. Maybe you should’ve made it a little harder for them.

You barely sleep that night. You don’t eat the dinner you had been planning to. You let the water in the pot evaporate all the way down to the bottom - leaving white water stains on the stainless steel, and the ceramic of your stove top where it had boiled over. You simply shut off the burner, place the pot in the sink, and head towards your room - dead eyed and dreary. You shut your laptop, and leave it on your coffee table. Something about bringing it to bed with you that night felt wrong. Like maybe, they would be able to hear you. See you. Maybe they already had been.

How else would they have known you were messaging them from your little shoebox apartment? Assumptions, easily made, but there was such an unshakable itch of uncertainty under your bones that it felt difficult to listen to rational thoughts right now.

You had opened a can of worms that you were sure couldn’t be as easily closed. Even if you didn’t show up tomorrow, would that be the end of it?

Or had you doomed yourself, just because that dollar amount looked so delicious?

Hedonism, at its finest.

You toss and turn, your sheets feeling itchy and uncomfortable. Your pillow too stiff. The air around you too cold, but the air beneath your blankets too hot. Closing your eyes for mere seconds at a time before they’re fluttering back open again, blinking against the darkness to stare up at your ceiling. Your brain fills in the gaps of stimulation, formulating swirling shapes of colour that you know don’t truly exist, and yet you watch them anyway. Watch them twist and turn, ebb and flow. Fluctuate in shape, form, and colour.

You spend most of your night that way. Sprawled on your sheets - half of your body covered in your blanket and the other half bare - only blinking when your eyes began to burn and twitch. Honing in on the make believe, as a distraction of what you had forced yourself into in the real world.

You didn’t have to go, you knew you didn’t. You could delete all of those emails, throw that newspaper in the trash and forget it all existed. You could worry, but you doubted whoever this was would actually track you down for refusing their offer.

They had even said it themselves. ‘If you miss your chance that is on you.’

If you said no, they’d probably just find someone else. Someone just as hopeless as you, looking for salvation in places that you definitely shouldn’t.

Maybe someone worse than you. Someone who wouldn’t even ask questions. Someone who would just abide and obey, so long as they got the cheque at the end of it all.

That’s probably what you should’ve done. It would have saved a whole load of stress.

You’re still lying on your back when the sun rises. Still bleary eyed and breathing shaky when the sun starts to peek through your curtains, cloaking you bedroom in warm tones of gold and pink

The worst part, wasn’t the fact that you knew you were being toyed with.

The worst part, was that you knew you were just going to give in.

A recipe for disaster. Red blaring lights surrounding the entire interaction. The only thing positive, was the money. That damn price tag. So you had to ask yourself, was one thousand dollars the dollar amount you were going to place on your life? Was that all that you thought you were worth?

You’d like to say no, but your empty pockets were still beckoning you otherwise.

If things turned out being too strange, you’d just turn around. You could even bring that pepper spray your mom had forced you to pack when you first left for university. You could send your location to all of your friends, make sure to keep your cellphone on and close by at all times. You could take precautions.

See the cash for yourself, find out if it's all a farce or not.

And so, you do the same as you always do in the morning. You roll out of bed on the left side, drag your feet to your closet and pick out the same outfit you wear every single day. A different pair of jeans, a different hoodie, but you’d doubt that anyone who wasn’t you would be able to tell. You pull your hair up into a haphazard bun, splash a handful of cold water on your face to try and wake yourself up more, and rinse with a mouthful of mouthwash before you spit it out in the sink.

You walk to the living room and don’t spare a glance at your laptop - like it was guilty, not you. Shunning it as if it were the one who had done the damage, for it just couldn’t be you and your greedy fingers, could it?

Your phone is fully charged, and you stuff it in your bag. That, along with a can of pepper spray, and a box cutter you had kept around after you had first moved in. Two weapons that were definitely quite dinky in the grand scheme of things, but it was better to have something to benefit you than to show up empty handed. Besides, you were hoping that you wouldn’t even have to use them anyway.

You could always turn around, and forget it all happened.

You just needed something a little bit more to feed your curiosity. Once you got that, you could just go back to daily life.

And so you step through your front door, and lock it behind you. Your keys jingle as you stuff them back in your pocket, the soles of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum flooring that made up the entryway of your apartment building. Through the hall, down the stairs, skipping the elevator because it always got stuck. Your feet were moving so quickly that you felt more so as if you were floating, rather than actually stepping on solid ground. You can barely even feel the warmth of the sin beating on your skin when you step outside - like you aren’t even truly inhabiting your own body. Just a jumble of disorganized, self-destructive thoughts and plans, so disconnected from everything else around you.

The drive is a blur.

You don’t remember sitting in your car, or setting the gps. You don’t remember driving. Don’t remember analyzing each and every minute detail of your surroundings.

You were at home one minute, and sat outside a decrepit looking building the next. Like somebody had reached within your skull and ripped out a handful of your memories.

With your car’s engine still running, you just sit there for a moment. Staring through your windshield with wide eyes and laboured breathing, in a state of both awe and complete bewilderment that you actually brought yourself here. That you actually did it. Some beast who lived within you - one who was fuelled by nothing more than greed and morbid curiosity - took the reins and tugged your body towards this… This death trap.

That’s what it looked like, at least. The building you stared at was far off of the beaten trail. Right at the end of a dirt road beginning to be covered up by grass regrowth. Bare, spindly trees surround it. The middle of spring, and yet they bare no leaves. Dead. Rotting. Hollow corpses that played the part of what they used to be.

The building itself, sends a shiver down your spine. It looks abandoned. If not, then whoever owned it couldn’t care less about upkeeping appearances. The brick of the outer walls was cracked and chipped. One window shattered, one boarded up, and the others cracked beyond all repair. Weed and shrubbery overtook practically the entire front lawn, with just one foot trail of stomped down grass cutting through all of the chaos.

Showcasing that somebody had been here. Recently at that.

Was probably in there right now, waiting for you.

A quick glance down at the clock on your dashboard made it more than clear that had to be the truth. 8:57.

Even with your brain clocked out for the greater half of the journey, you still managed to be punctual.

You’re not quite sure what it is - the time constraint, the desire for knowledge, maybe the fact that you were already here - but you find yourself pulling the key out of your car's ignition. Find yourself unbuckling your seatbelt, and opening the side door. Feeling much the same as you had just a few hours before.

Floaty. Not in control. Like you were living a dream.

If all of this went well, maybe you really would be.

You grab your bag before slamming your car door shut, slinging it over your shoulder and taking a deep breath in before you force your legs to move. Leaves and rocks crunch under the soles of your shoes. The sun is warm and yet the breeze that brushes past you still sends a shiver down your spine. The breaths you take are short and shaky, just like each step you take.

One foot after the other. Hands gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it makes your knuckles go white. You don’t even notice that you’re gritting your teeth until your jaw starts to ache.

When you reach the front door - which looks as if you could break it down with barely any effort - you don’t even hesitate. If you do, you know that you’ll just end up thinking too much and turning right on your heel.

Maybe, the issue was that you weren’t thinking enough.

Regardless, you knock. Three sharp raps against the wood, sounding so loud in the otherwise vacant scenery you found yourself in. You don’t check your phone to look at the time. If you were late at all because of all of the stewing you had been doing, then so be it. You would take that as a sign.

But of course, no sign from god. One from the devil instead.

You hear the sound of glass breaking. Muffled voices, and then footsteps. Growing louder and louder with each one. Approaching you.

You start to feel lightheaded.

When a lock clicks, and the doorknob turns, you feel queasy.

The door opens barely more than a sliver. Just enough for whoever is on the other side of it to be able to get a peek at you. You can’t see much of him. Just the side of his face and part of his shoulder, but just that is enough to unnerve you. You can’t see his eyes. Can’t see his mouth. A pair of bright orange goggles and a muzzle-esque mask hides those features from you. The sunlight glints off of the lenses of his goggles, making it impossible to try and discern what may lay below them. Even if you could, a shaggy mop of brown hair falls over his forehead and obscures them ever further.

Definitely not a researcher.

You’re not quite sure how long you just stood there staring at him. How long he stood there staring at you - neither one of you saying a word. Like some unspoken game of chicken, seeing who would crack and cave under the pressure first.

Surprisingly, it's him.

”What d-do you want?” His voice is low and raspy, muffled partially by the mask he wore. He still doesn’t open the door further, but you do notice the way his neck sharply cracks to the side before he’s letting out an annoyed grunt. “You got-gotta be pretty damn stupid to come knocking at a place like this. Even i-if you’re lost.”

”I’m not lost.” You mutter back to him, straightening your back and letting out a shaky breath through your nose. “I’m here for the lab trial? This is where the directions lead me.”

The man on the other side of the door stills completely. In fact, you’d swear he completely stopped breathing for a moment. Then, he opens the door a little further. Your eyes scan across him, his attire, cataloguing each tear and stain on the hoodie he was wearing. Some, definitely just dirt caked in deep, other were dark enough to spike a wave of panic within you. Your eyes drift back up towards his face and your mouth goes dry.

A crudely bandaged hand comes up to lift the goggles off from over his eyes, pushing them up into his hair. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen on anyone before, with even darker bags beneath them. His eyes are sharp. Scrutinizing. Looking more so like they belonged on a bird of prey, than a human being.

So stunned, it would be easy for him to sink his talons into you.

”L-Lab trial?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. His gaze is unblinking, making your stomach twist and turn with an uncomfortable queasiness. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so sick, so often, within such a short span of time.

You don’t answer verbally, can’t force yourself to without fear of your last meal crawling up your throat. So you just nod, hands starting to tremble where they still grip the strap of your bag. The man lets out a soft hum, seeming to think on it for a few more seconds before he opens the door completely. “Alright. Sure. L-Let me show you to the lab then.”

He lets out a snort of laughter, like he knows something you don’t, before he’s turning on his heel - clearly expecting you to follow.

You do. Through the doorway, into the darkened exterior of the building. Lighting was sparse, in the main entryway it seemed as if the only source of it was daylight coming through the windows. The floor was littered with broken glass and old pieces of scrap. Any furniture was either broken beyond further use, or stained to all hell.

You were starting to think that this man may be right. You’ve got to be damn stupid. “Who’re you he-here for?” The man asks from before you, not bothering to turn his head to meet your gaze. He walks leisurely, hands in his pockets, feet kicking up debris with each step. Through the main area, now down through a hall. Further and further from the front gate. Further and further away from your car.

You’re making a mental map within your mind of the floor plan already. Just in case you need it.

”Uh, Cody?” You try, your voice coming out much shakier and much hoarser than you had meant it to. You clear your throat and let out a little huff before continuing. “I don’t… I don’t really know. That’s the only name I was given.”

”O-Oh you’re fucked.” The man lets out a harsh laugh, a sound that rips from his lungs and splits through the air - like he just couldn’t hold it back no matter how hard he tried. “Sorry, sorry.” You can see his shoulders shake, still very clearly attempting to hold back another bout of laughter. “Yeah, C-Cody’s the guy you’re looking for alright. It’s his lab after all.”

You know you should turn around. You should turn around right now, and book it towards the entrance before you get in too deep. This guy wouldn’t chase you down, right? He wasn’t even the one who was expecting you.

And… You could probably outrun him even if he did, right? All you had to do was make it to your car.

“That right?” You mutter, lips tugged down into so deep of a scowl that it made your jaw quiver. The air around you felt stale. So much so that your lungs ached and your chest felt tight with each breath in. Everything within this building seemingly honed to make you as uneasy as physically possible. Especially the man before you, and the way his limbs spasmed and jerked in an unpredictable pattern. Joints cracking. Soft grunts slipping from his lips every now and then. “Then who are you? His assistant?” It’s a stupid question and you knew it. You were far past believing that any of this had even a semblance of professionalism to it.

But playing the game was a lot easier to stomach.

“Assistant?” The man rounds a corner and starts down a flight of stairs - skipping down the steps without an ounce of care. You can’t do the same. Your legs are trembling with each step you take, joints turning into goo as you descend lower into the maw of the beast. It gets darker. One singular lightbulb at the bottom being the light source for the entire journey down. It would be easy to trip up and lose your footing, if the man before you wasn’t so confidently leading the way - like he had done this trip a million times before. “Sure, I g-guess. I help him out here and there.” For the first time during the entire trip, he glances back at you over his shoulder. “Like right now. You w-woulda probably been standing out there for hours knocking if I wasn’t he-here. He’s deaf to the world when he’s d-down here.”

”Well, he said he was expecting me.” You breathe back out. “Nine am sharp.”

”He’s been up since four.” The man snorts before hopping off of the last step and turning towards you. “Probably d-doesn’t know what time it even is right now.” He waits for you to join him on the landing, concrete beneath your feet, before he’s reaching out to the door at the bottom of the staircase. This one looks a lot more heavy duty. Solid metal, and you can pick out at least three different sets of locks.

Stepping through that door had to be the worst idea thus far. “Crazy that the g-guy with no internal clock is trying t-to make appointments.” His hand closes around the handle of the door, and he turns it before giving it a little tug.

To your surprise, even with all of the security measures, its not locked. It gives way on the first pull. “C-Cody, there’s some girl here for ya’.”

The man steps into the room, but not before reaching out to you and taking a rough hold of your arm. He pulls a yelp from your lungs when he drags you across the threshold with him, finally answering the question you had been wondering about throughout your entire interaction.

Was he as dangerous as he looked? The strength of his grip answered that pretty quickly. Tugged into a new room, with your assailant kicking the door closed behind him, you feel as if one wrong move would have him breaking your arm on accident. (Or, on purpose? You didn’t even know anymore.) “You g-gotta start paying attention. I got my own shit to do, y’know?”

”Huh? Is it nine already, Toby?” A new voice has your head snapping in the direction of it. You had been fruitlessly struggling against the hold you had been trapped in, but that sound had your motions ceasing completely. It was soft, monotone, and smoother than silk. The exact opposite of the other man - ’Toby’, you suppose.

The differences really stop there though, because you feel as if you’re feeling double. A choppy mess of brunette hair, pushed off of his forehead by a pair of goggles with blue lenses this time. Dark circles just as prevalent, like he hadn’t slept in days.

It sure looked like he hadn’t. He was curled over a microscope, absolutely abhorrent posture in the swivel stool he sat hunched. He didn’t look up. Gloved hands switching between slides to observe, his knee bouncing absently - like his own internal metronome. “Set her on the bench and get out. Close the door behind you.”

He - Cody - spoke like you weren’t even there. Like you were an object, not a human being just like he was.

Toby seemed to find no issue with that.

”S-Sure, dick.” He snorts out an amused laugh before tugging you over to what looks to be a bed, the same kind you’d find in a doctor’s office - complete with the waxy sanitary sheet to cover the surface of it. With one rough shove, Toby’s pushing you onto it - but not before snagging the strap of your bag in your shocked stupor, ripping it from your body. “Don’tcha worry.” He laughs when you immediately shoot back up and reach for it, holding it high above your head and lifting a leg to push you backwards with his foot. “You’ll g-get it back. You just don’t need it right now. R-Right, Cody?”

”Uh huh.” Finally, the man looks up to you - bright green eyes glinting under the overhead lighting of the lab. “Stop making a fuss, would you? Toby didn't drag you all the way here against your will, did he?”

Something about his gaze paralyzes you. One look from him and you were turning to stone, your heart rate kicking up a few notches in your chest. The way he was looking at you… It wasn’t like one human to another. It was far less connected than that. As he watched you uselessly try to grab for your bag back, he looked at you with all the interest of someone watching a trail of ants scurry past.

Curious, but with no empathy behind it. Just pure, unbridled, scientific fascination.

“No.” You choke out, and lower your arms. Cody tracks each and every movement. Especially when you fold completely, and take a few steps back. Letting Toby just turn around and walk away with your bag in hand, snickering to himself as he makes off with your phone, and every single weapon you had brought to try and avoid a situation like this.

Your entire ‘plan’ was going downhill extremely quickly.

”That’s what I thought.” Cody stands, letting out a little sigh through his nose before he removes his goggles completely and sets them on the lab bench before him. Then, he’s rounding it. Approaching you. Gloved hands folded behind his back as he does so. “You decided to contact me, you decided to come here, and you decided to follow some strange man all the way down here.” He comes to stand before you, and cocks his head to the side. “You’ve got no reason to complain, do you? You could’ve avoided this all.”

He nods his head towards the bed you had sat on for a total of five seconds before leaping back up again. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.”

You barely even hear the sound of the door closing off to the side. Definitely don’t hear the sound of a lock clicking shut. It’s like he had you under some sort of spell, exuding a cool - almost clinical - form of confidence that made your entire body feel cold. You felt like a patient, just blindly believing everything their doctor says because they must know best.

You take a seat, the sheet crinkling loudly beneath you. “Good.” He doesn’t say that like a genuine praise, more so just an acknowledgment of something he had expected. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t move. Just stares down at you through his bangs, his gaze unwavering. “So, why did you come?” He asks. “You sounded awful wary over email last night.”

So it was him. This was the man who had been messaging you. Taunting you. You supposed that you shouldn’t be shocked by his apathetic attitude.

”I still am.” You murmur, fingers curling into the fabric below you. “You lied in your ad.”

”Lied?” Cody raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t lie. Everything I wrote there was the truth.” He takes a step closer, and tilts his head down a little bit. “Besides, you would’ve come even if I had, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Why? Why are you here?”

His gaze is piercing. Like he’s staring through you rather than at you. Like he’s got you under a microscope, staring down at your bare essentials. Cells and all.

“I need the money.” You mutter, shifting where you sit. “Real bad.”

”Well, I bet you do.” Cody lets out a soft snort through his nose. Barely a laugh. Like a hollow imitation of one. “But that can’t be all it is, right? What’s the use in money if you won’t leave here alive?” He leans down a little bit further, and raises an eyebrow, his face still completely monotonous. Not a single change in his expression that you could pick up on. Like he was wearing a porcelain mask that would crack if his lips so much as twitched upwards. “Money’s useless to the dead, you know.” When your eyes widen in panic, his eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher, before he’s taking a few steps backwards again.

This was a game to him. It had been from the start. “Not that I’m threatening your demise, I’m just saying. You took a pretty big risk.” He casts you one last look before turning back around and slowly walking back to his lab bench. “Just for money? I doubt that. If you’re truthful with me, I’ll be truthful with you.” You watch as he slowly peels the latex gloves from his hands, before dropping them in a wastebin right at the corner of his desk. Mere seconds later, he’s reaching into a drawer to pull out a new pair. “I’m going to ask one more time, and what you say is going to determine how easy this is for you.” He pulls the new, sterile pair of gloves on with a snap that rings through the air. “Why are you here?”

With no weapon, no phone, and no easy way to escape, what other choice did you have than to just submit? For all you knew, Toby was stood at the other side of the lab door - waiting to catch you if you tried to make a break for it.

”I was curious.” You bite out, casting your gaze off to the side. “That’s it.”

Cody stills, his shoulders tensing and relaxing where his back was turned to you. And you can’t see it, but a grin stretches across his face. Wrinkling the expression you were sure was impermeable.

”Right answer.” He hums. He rounds the lab bench once more before reaching forwards and reaching for a breaker of something you couldn’t discern. It was a cool purple tone, near fluorescent. “Curiosity is a good thing, you know? It’s what keeps humans going.” Out of a drawer, he grabs a syringe. Your breath catches in your throat. “If humans weren’t curious, we’d never have evolved. We’d still all just be mindless monkeys, picking bugs out of each other’s fur.” His nose wrinkles a little, but he shakes it off quickly. “I’m curious. That’s why I do what I do.”

”Yeah?” You watch with rapt attention as he dips the tip of the syringe into the beaker, before pulling the plunger upwards and filling the chamber with the mystery substance. “And what is it exactly that you do?”

”I study.” Cody answers shortly. Once the syringe is full to the brim, he places the beaker back where it once was. “Humans. Our reactions to things. How fragile they are.” His gaze flicks up to meet yours. “What our limits are.”

He reaches forwards and places the syringe in a holder - clearly to lie and wait for further use.

”Did you go to school for any of this?” You choke out. “Like, do you have qualifications? Or are you just some nutcase with a homemade lab?”

”Lets not start name calling.” Cody sighs softly, his lips twitching into a frown. The way he looks up at you, it’s like a disappointed parent scolding a child. Not really mad, just barely irked. “I think I’ve been pretty nice to you, can’t you do the same?”

”Not until you tell me what you’re going to do to me.” Your response is immediate. Snippy. Packed with enough annoyance to make Cody’s brow wrinkle. “What’d you just put in the syringe? Is that what you’re using on me?”

Cody pauses completely, his movements still as his gaze locks in on you. Again, he takes a moment to just stare, to analyze you, before he’s letting out a soft sigh.

He makes his way back towards you, this time wheeling his lab stool back over to you before taking a seat. He leans forwards, knees on his elbows, as he stares up at you through the messy strands of his hair.

”Yeah, it is.” He answers back to you matter-of-factly. “Want me to tell you what it does?”

Immediately, you’re nodding. You’re realizing at this point that getting pricked seemed to be unavoidable, so you’d much rather know what you’re getting into than go in blind. “It’s a… Stimulant.” He hums softly. “I don’t know, I guess you could call it an aphrodisiac. I want to see if it’s as effective on humans as it was on my rats.”

”Your rats?” You choke out, eyes wide. Definitely not what you should’ve been focusing on, out of what he just told you, but you think that dwelling on what else he had just said to you might just make you pass out.

”Yeah.” Cody lets out a soft chuckle. “My rats. Darwin and Remy. They took it like champs. Curious to see if you’d do the same.”

”What…” You shift uncomfortably on the bed, your mouth feeling extremely dry all of a sudden. It almost hurts to swallow. “If I let you,” You begin, stressing that fact, “What’s going to happen to me?”

Cody merely smiles, as if this conversation was nothing more uncommon than speaking about the weather.

“I’m not 100% sure.” He breathes back out to you, tapping his fingers absently against his knee. “That’s why you’re here, after all.” He notices the way your entire body tenses at that, and lets out a little hum. “But if I had to guess, it’ll probably go a little something like this;” He scoots his stool a little closer to you, wheels squeaking against linoleum. “You’re going to feel really hot. Feverish. Probably going to wish you could crawl out of your own skin.” His eyes stay locked on yours, watching the way they turn glossier with each word he speaks. “Your mouth is going to water. Drool accumulating like a faucet’s turned on. And then all that heat? It’s going to travel down low. Right where you want it the least.” You nearly flinch, and he smirks. “Think… A cat in heat. That’s what you’re going to be, if all goes well.”

”Why?” You choke out, scooting back on the bed a little bit to try and get away from him. “Why would you want to see that?”

”Same reason you’re here.” Cody hums back to you. “I’m curious.” He kicks off of the bed and pushes the stool backwards, sending him right at the edge of his lab bench again. “And I’ll let you know this - You can say no, but either way, you won't be going home.” He reaches behind him, snagging the abandoned syringe between his fingers and showing it off to you. “You sealed your fate, the moment you knocked on my door. I can’t just let you leave now that you know what I do here. Now that you’ve met me, and Toby no less.” Using his feet, he wheels himself back over to you. “I don’t think anyone’s ever met us and lived to tell the tale.” He snorts. “Not unless they stay.”

You feel dizzy. So much so that you need to grasp at the sheets below you as an attempt to ground yourself. You had known from the first message that this entire thing was a trap, but having it all laid out for you? There were black dots spotting your vision. “So, two options.” Cody holds the syringe between the two of you, his eyes glinting. “Let me experiment on you, and earn a couple bucks - as I said before, I’m not a liar.” You take in a shaky breath. “Or, say no, and I’ll throw you over to Toby. I can bet he’d find something useful for you to do.”

”That’s a lose-lose.” You mutter back to him softly. “I was going to use that money for student loans.”

”Well, then it's actually a win, no?” Cody raises an eyebrow. “Won’t have to pay for loans if we keep you here. You’d be gone. Off the grid.” He taps the syringe impatiently. “So? What’s the plan?” He points the syringe towards you, and you can’t help but flinch. “I’ll warn you though, Toby’s not known for being hospitable.”

”And you are?” You bite back, narrowing your eyes.

”I’m nothing but respectful to my specimens.” He gives you a sickening smile, one that sinks into your bones like a toxin. “I’ve had Darwin and Remy around for years.”

”Your rats.” You clarify, raising an eyebrow.

”Yes, my rats.” Cody lets out a soft chuckle, and it seems as if he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m a good caretaker, I promise. This is a fairly ethical lab.”

“Kidnapping isn’t ethical.” You point out, lips twitching down into a frown.

”Good thing you came here of your own volition.” Cody scoots closer, hovering the syringe close to your skin. Close enough to make sweat bead up on your brow. “I’ll be nice to you, I swear it.” He murmurs. “I just want to… Document you.” He cocks his head to the side. “Will you let me? I think it’ll be worth it.”

It’s the illusion of choice. Tricking you into believing that you had any semblance of power in the matter. You didn’t. You were just a pawn to be played now.

”And there’s no chance of me leaving?” You can’t help but ask just one more time. That fact doesn’t feel real to you, won’t sink in properly. To think, that just yesterday you had your life completely planned out for you. Now, you just had to float along, playing into the whims of two clearly ill-intentioned men.

One of them seemed… A little bit kinder though. If kind was even the word you should be using in this scenario.

”There’s no chance.” Cody nods back to you. “Not alive, anyway. That’s what we do, make people disappear.” He pauses. “Well Toby does, for the most part. I just like toying with them before we throw them in a ditch.” His eyes flicker with something unhinged, his fingers tapping against the glass of the syringe. “You’re my first living specimen in a while, that’s how you know I’ll be careful. Don’t wanna break you.”

He shifts his hand, letting you feel it when he just barely scrapes the tip of the needle against your neck. Your entire body tenses up immediately, your muscles locking up in fright. “You really don’t have to be so scared, you know.” His other hand reaches up, the coldness of his latex glove cupping your face in a gentle hold. Barely even squeezing, just enough to tip your head to the side a little more. “This is probably… The least scary drug I’ve created in a long time. The fatality rate is less than 2%”

”There’s a fatality rate?” You squeak out. With the huff he lets out, you don’t even have to look to know that Cody is rolling his eyes.

”Too many questions.” He mutters. “Some of the shit you buy off of the shelf have even worse percentages, so don’t go latching onto words just because they sound scary.” His fingers give your jaw a light squeeze. “So? Say it. Yes, or no. Or I’m picking for you.”

With such a rigged outcome, you feel as if you just have to go with your gut on this one. Even though he’s quite literally holding a needle to your neck right now.

”Yes.” You mutter out the word so softly you wouldn’t have been surprised if he missed out on it completely. But, he was close enough that your whisper meets his ears like a soft breeze. Just one simple word, and yet it was the most lovely thing he had heard in a very long time. Your eyes flutter closed in silent resignation, so you can’t see it - but Cody’s lips curl up into an incredibly self-satisfied smile. Little dimples appearing in his cheeks, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

He had known you’d say that.

”Good. You’re going to feel a slight pinch, that’s all.” That’s all the warning he gives you. After that, he’s pricking you. Piercing your skin with the needle and making sure it slides right into a main vein. “You’re probably going to feel… Tingly as it circulates.” He murmurs as he presses his thumb down on the plunger, slowly dispensing the full volume of the drug right into you. He watches in fascination, how your body just drinks up his creation - watching the fluorescent liquid disappear beneath your skin. “It’s nothing to worry about, it just means it's working.”

You can already feel what he’s talking about. Your veins feel warm. Starting in your neck at the injection site, down your arms and shoulders. Swirling in your chest, pooling in your heart to pump the rest of the way through your body. You try to keep your breathing even, even as Cody’s hands slowly pull away and the needle is dislodged from your skin, but it's incredibly hard to stay calm.

Even though Cody’s voice is soft and soothing. Speaking to you like any kind doctor would. Calm, collected, knowledgeable. Giving you any detail you’d like to know about your procedure.

Sure, he only told you once he had you trapped, but regardless.

You were counting your small wins. “Okay.” Cody pushes his stool back off of the bed frame again, wheeling his stool back over to his work station once more. He reaches over to drop the used syringe into a sharps bin, before once again removing the gloves he had been wearing. It was almost comical, the way he felt a need to change them between each and every little thing he did.

Another small win. At least he was sanitary. You wouldn’t be getting sepsis from this, hopefully. “Now’s the fun part.” Cody doesn’t grab a new pair of gloves this time, instead he reaches for a clipboard and a pen - collecting both items before wheeling back over to you. “I just get to watch you.” He grins. “How are we doing now? Feel anything yet?”

Short answer, yes. The sensation was strange. It was as if you could feel every ounce of blood flowing through your veins. Like when you drink something cold, and you can feel it travel all the way down to your stomach - giving you a pretty clear reminder that you were just a machine made of fleshy parts all working together to keep you breathing.

You were more aware of that than ever. You could feel your blood rushing around, feel your lungs expand with each breath you took. You could feel your eyelids move over your eyes with each blink, could feel your throat contract each time you swallow down the saliva that had begun to accumulate in your mouth.

But, you’re not quite sure how to put that all into words, So instead you just say,

”I feel…” You breathe out a shuddering breath, curling your fingers into the sheet beneath you. Looking up to meet his gaze, but your vision swims. Cloning the man before you into double right before your very eyes. “Jesus Christ this stuff works fast.” You gasp, before bringing one hand up to prod at your face. Rubbing your eyes to try and clear up your vision a little bit, pinching and pulling the skin of your cheeks to try and ground yourself with that sharp sting. It doesn’t work.

”Yeah, I probably should’ve mentioned that.” Cody snorts, observing your pathetic state with one eyebrow raised and an amused smile tugging at his lips. You’re shifting and squirming, unable to sit still for the life of you. Breathing so heavy you’re practically panting, but he’s sure that you don’t even realize that. There’s a flush beginning to creep onto your cheeks, so potent that it's spreading down your neck too. Sweat beads up on your brow, fingers fiddling with the hem of the sweater you were wearing. “Try and put it into words, though. Are you hot? Do you feel restless?”

”Hot.” You agree immediately, slumping forwards a little where you’re sitting. You're definitely panting - damn near hyperventilating - saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth that you have to swallow back down. It’s just replaced by more as soon as you do though. “Fuck- Can you…” You let out an involuntary whine, so disgruntled that your body barely knows what to do than to act like you are at your core - a scared little animal. “Is there AC in here?” You gasp out. “There’s gotta be, right? I feel like I’m dying over here.”

”No AC.” Cody snorts, shaking his head in amusement before scribbling something down on the clipboard perched on his knee. “In fact, it’s pretty cold in here already. Usually is.”

”You’re fucking with me.” You grit out, a shudder going down your spine as you reach up to dab at your forehead with the sleeve of your hoodie. It comes back to you drenched. “This isn’t fucking funny.”

Cody seems to think otherwise, because right after you speak he’s letting out a soft huff of a chuckle that he can’t bite back. He scribbles down something else, all whilst gnawing at his bottom lip to try and stop any other small bits of laughter from slipping out.

”I told you this was going to happen.” He hums, before meeting your gaze once more. “Why don’t you take your sweater off? You might make yourself overheat.”

If he had said that to you the moment you had walked in, you probably would’ve had a lot more fight left in you. Probably would’ve cut him a harsh glare and called him a ‘creep’ within a fraction of a second. In your current state, you’re stripping the heavy material off of your body before he can even finish his sentence.

It lands as a crumpled heap on the cool laboratory floor, and the relief is immediate. The sweat on your skin meets the air around you and cools, giving you a slight reprieve from the hell you had been enduring beforehand. Your chest is heaving with each breath, and Cody can see now that it was even worse for you right now than he had expected. It definitely did work faster on humans than it did on his rats. Or maybe he flubbed the dosage a little bit.

Regardless, you looked like you were melting.

That pink flush he had noted extended down your neck, over your collarbones, and swept across your chest - which was rising and falling to an uneven rhythm. It was creeping down your abdomen, hell even down your arms and up to the tips of your ears. You looked like you were burning up from the inside out. Your skin was glossy with a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to your forehead because of it. Your lips are parted as you breathe raggedly through your mouth, eyebrows scrunched together in discomfort. “You’re not in any pain, right?” Cody asks you softly, his eyes scanning across your body as you shift and squirm - as if you were trying to wriggle out of your own skin. “Just uncomfortable?”

”More than that.” You gasp out, your eyes near pleading as they flicker up to meet his. Pleading for what? You didn’t even know. Anything that would cool you down. “I feel like I’m.. I’m burning up. Melting.” You learn forwards a little, and extend a shaky hand out towards him. “Do you have water? Anything?”

”I don’t.” Cody frowns, his eyes flickering between your hand and your reddened face. Such a pitiful sight really. He scribbles down a couple more notes. “You’re really struggling, aren’t you?”

”Yeah.” Your brain feel foggy. Like the heat you’re consumed in has melted it into a pool of goop. Every logical thought you try to form fizzles out before it comes to fruition, evaporating into the air. Right now, there were only two certainties.

You might just combust, or pass out if you don’t receive anything to help your situation.

Cody can help. It’s his lab, after all.

And so you’re left grabbing at him, fingers clawing at his knee through the fabric of his jeans, the contact making him jolt and scoot his stool back a couple inches. “Cody, please.”

“Please, what?” Cody raises an eyebrow, keeping his gaze trained on you - dodging your advances when you try to get your hands on him once more. “Hands to yourself.”

You ignore him.

”I can’t stand it.” So overwhelmed, that tears spring to your eyes. Blurring your already hazy vision before they’re breaking free and rolling down your face. Just like the rest of you, they feel hot as they streak your cheeks, your entire expression crumpling in complete and utter defeat. “You said-“ You sniffle. “You said you’d be nice.”

Cody’s eyes slowly widen, his gaze tracking the trail of a teardrop before it rolls off of the tip of your nose and hits your thigh - leaving a small stain on your jeans. Your face was wrinkled in discomfort, your entirely body trembling where you sat. Your heavy breathing had turned into strained, choked off gasps - devolving more into a state of panic than anything else.

You were a mess. Melting in a pool on the bed before him. He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. When he had tested it on his rats, the effects had paled in comparison - it just made them more eager to mate. You were falling apart right before his eyes.

”Jesus-“ Cody breathes out, his lips pursing together for a moment as he decides exactly which route he was going to take with you here. It’s not that he hadn’t expected something like this to happen - in fact that was the entire point. But having it right before his eyes, having you begging with tears streaming down your face… That was something else entirely. He had seen many, many people sob to him before - begging and pleading for him to spare their life.

He wasn’t quite sure what you were begging for. His eyes scan across your face, narrowing slightly in thought. “I’m not going to touch you.” He finally huffs out, before dropping his clipboard on the ground beside him and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why not?” You ask, leaning forwards on your palms and peering up at him. Desperate, definitely. But had you not been from the start? Cody watches as a bead of sweat rolls down your temple, and lets out a soft, disbelieving snort.

”Because that’s not what this is about.” He chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to sit there, and just let me observe you - regardless of how uncomfortable you get.” He cocks his head to the side. “You’re not going to make me strap you down, are you?”

He watches as your eyes widen, how your irises flicker with something so far removed from the fear you had walked into the room with. Pupils blown out wide, your gaze was heady - practically heating up the air around the two of you with just one look. He knew what you were thinking, could see it in the way your gaze trailed from his face, down his neck, across the length of his arm to settle on watching his fingers fiddle with the pen in his hand. Nearly drooling. There was a glossy sheen on your lips, saliva bubbling in the corners of your mouth.

And you just can’t sit still. Shifting, trembling, rubbing your thighs together in a way that was far from discreet.

Cody lets out a short huff of breath, pinching his eyes shut before reaching up to rub them.

It wasn’t even that you were difficult to handle, his brain was. He should just make true on his threat and tie you down - watch you wriggle and squirm in discomfort for a couple hours until the effects wore off. But for some reason, that just didn’t seem as… Appealing. Not with how you were looking at him like he was a God. The answer to every single trouble you were facing.

And maybe… Maybe you weren’t too far off with that. Maybe he could be.

And so finally, he moves. Stands up slowly with you watching each and every little movement. How his hair looked so feathery soft as he reached up to run a hand through it. The sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor as he made his way back over to the lab bench - unhurried, dragging it out. Making you feel even more pathetic than you already did, because he just seemed so indifferent. So apathetic towards your situation, while you were sitting behind him falling apart at the seams.

He doesn’t say a word when he turns on the faucet at his sink. Doesn’t make a peep as he washes his hands clean, before drying them off and retrieving yet another new pair of gloves. Pulling them on just as he had done with the last two pairs, before grabbing a couple other things out of the drawer that you couldn’t get a good look at.

Then, he’s back over to you, staring down at you with that same gaze he had before. Clinical, detached. Like you were nothing more than a pitiful animal. “Open your mouth.”

It takes a few seconds for the words to register - your mind so clouded that every sound around you sounded far away and foggy. But he was looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised, making it quite clear that he expected you to listen.

Which was fair. You were his experiment after all.

And so you do. You swallow back a mouthful of drool before parting your lips - your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling as you stay that way, waiting for his next move. “Good.” Again, such hollow praise. “Now stick out your tongue.” You follow that command just as easily as the last one, your heart thudding against your rib cage in anticipation - excitement - for what he had in store for you. You can feel saliva pool in your mouth again, but you don’t move a muscle. Not until he tells you to. Not even when it begins to drip off of your tongue, staining the fabric of your jeans even further.

Cody wrinkles his nose and purses his lips, but he reaches forwards regardless - pressing two fingers down against your tongue. “Such a mess.” He mutters out, right as you let out a soft whimper and jolt at the contact. The latex of his gloves felt so cool in comparison to your body. Like he had dropped two ice cubes into your mouth.

You can’t help but savour it.

Your lips close around his fingers, a soft moan rumbling from your chest when you suction to them and suck. Licking up that rubbery taste like it was a lollipop, your eyes fluttering as you take in a shaky breath through your nose.

Cody, nearly stops breathing completely. Your mouth is so warm and wet, so eagerly sucking his fingers in like it was a gift he had bestowed upon you. Barely even doing anything, and yet you were eating it all up eagerly. Greedily. Grateful for any sliver of physical contact he was allowing you. “Did I ask you to do that?” He asks you, and yet he doesn’t retreat. In fact, he pushes further. Sinking his fingers into your mouth until his knuckles are hitting your teeth - the tips of his fingers grazing your throat.

And that’s when he realized something quite… Interesting. You weren’t gagging. Even when he pressed a little further, far enough that any average person would have been choking and sputtering by now. But you? You were just taking it - jaw slack, your throat welcoming the intrusion happily.

Were you always like this? Or was it a product of what he had done to you?

He pulls his fingers from your mouth slowly, ignoring the way you whine and try to suck them back in, before he finally has you releasing them with a wet ‘pop’. “No gag reflex.” He comments quietly, looking down to eye his gloved hand - fingers now drenched and glistening with your saliva. “Is that normal for you?”

You swallow thickly, lips glistening and chin smeared with your own saliva, before you slowly shake your head. It was hard to deny how empty your mouth felt now that Cody’s fingers were keeping you satiated. You just can’t take your eyes off of them, licking your lips at the memory of how they had felt against your tongue. Imagining how they’d feel elsewhere.

”No.” You whisper back to him, as you shift closer to the edge of the bed. You reach out again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. Letting you curl your fingers around the hem of his hoodie to tug him in closer. “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Cody eyes your hand as it paws at him, tugging at his sweater almost frantically with trembling fingers. His lips twitch up at the corners, a wry little smirk stretching across his face. “Well, I guess it could be, yeah.” He hums. “I just didn’t expect it, is all.” He extends his hand out to you again, and you part your lips on instinct, but he doesn’t humour you - instead snorting out an amused laugh before his fingers curl around your throat instead, smearing your own saliva against your skin. Just barely squeezing, enough to really feel your pulse beneath his fingertips. Fluttering like a bird in a cage, so frantic he would almost be worried. Almost. “It must act as a relaxant, just as much as it does a stimulant.”

His thumb rubs against your throat, the smooth latex of his gloves collecting your own sweat against it. You really were burning up. It was even more evident now that he was actually touching you. Warmed to a feverish degree, heat radiating off of you even from a few inches away. No wonder you had started crying about it so quickly. “Didn’t plan for that, and yet I think you’re right. It’s a good thing.” He gives your neck a gentle squeeze, watching how your eyes just go hazier when he does so. Your pupils are practically swallowing your irises now, the colour of your eyes barely even distinguishable. “A little two for one deal.”

He uses his grip to tilt your head upwards. His eyes warming at the sight of you - just being pushed and pulled around so easily. So pliant. Happy, so long as he’s touching you.

He’d bet you’d let him do quite literally anything to you right now. The perfect little lab rat. “In fact, I’d say I outdid myself.” His hand slips up and back, sliding into your hair cup the back of your head whilst your fingers tangle within the strands. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh huh.” Your answer is mindless, voice choked off and shaky - struggling to keep your watery eyes open as you lean back into his touch. “Cody-“ You say his name like you’ve known him for ages, all sweet and soft, like you have the right to beg for his attention. He doesn’t seem to mind though, if anything you’d swear you saw his gaze soften. “I need…” You take a moment to take a breath, so overwhelmed that you’re beginning to feel lightheaded. “Please, just keep touching me.”

“Yeah? Is that what you need?” His fingers curl into your hair, the latex of his glove squeaking when he tugs your head back. Not harshly enough to hurt, but enough the pull a gasp from your lungs. “I don’t normally take orders from my rats, you know.” His smirk widens into a toothy grin. “But then again, they usually can’t talk.”

You let out a pitiful whine, tugging him in closer by the hold you still have on his sweater. Close enough now that you’ve got him right between your thighs, staring down at you with such a subjugating gaze it makes your joints feel like goo. Was it the drug that was melting you, or was it him? “So difficult.” He mutters, before reaching up with his free hand.

You don’t truly realize what happening until you feel a cold, hard object slipping past your lips. It feels as if it expands, forcing your jaw open wide - leaving nowhere for your drool to go except to drip past your lips and slide down your jaw.

You let out a surprised whimper that comes out sounding gargled, your eyes widening like a deer in the headlights as you look up to shoot a questioning gaze. “If you want me to help you, I’m going to need you to just sit back and relax.” You hear a click, and then Cody’s hand is retreating. “No more asking questions, no more whining, no more begging.” He leans his head down a little, soft tufts of brunette hair tickling your forehead. “So, here’s the deal. If you want me to touch you, you’re going to hold these forceps snug in your mouth.” He reaches up to tap them, watching how your jaw quivers. “If you drop them, I stop.”

You let out a watery sounding whine, eyebrows scrunching together as you try to swallow back all of the dool accumulating in your mouth. You fail miserably. You can feel it trailing down your skin, leaving your chin slick. “If you don’t want to play, then we won’t. But if you want me to touch you that badly, these are the rules.” His thumb smooths against the skin right below your ear. “What do you think?”

At this point, you think you’d do quite literally anything if it meant he would soothe the ache in your bones. And so you nod - slow and shaky, as you breath raggedly through your nose. This earns you a smile, and Cody’s grip loosens minutely. His fingers scratch against your scalp, a soothing sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. “Good.” His hand slips out of your hair and trails down your neck, sweeping over your collarbones before it ventures lower - cupping your breast so gently you can barely even feel it. But its enough. Enough to have you jolting. “You know,” His fingers graze over the lace of your bra, a soft rumble of appreciation slipping from his lungs. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a partner, especially one so pretty.”

His fingers squeeze, kneading the supple flesh beneath them - watching the way your eyes flutter when he does so, listening to the strangled whimper you let out. “Never have time. Too much to do.” His other hands smoothes down the expanse of your body, settling on your waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles against your skin. “I never… Search it out. Never really have a reason to. There are much more important things to focus on besides such… Primal desires.” He gently peels your bra strap down your shoulder, then the other one, before he’s tugging the material completely below your tits - baring you to him. You hear it when his breath hitches. “But I suppose I am human too. To fight what my biology desires, that’s just an insult to the work that I do, isn’t it?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely expecting an answer, but you can’t give one regardless. Choking on your own spit, your mind swims as your feel a gloved finger roll your nipple beneath it, before he’s pinching it softly. “I wonder… What would you be like if I hadn’t dosed you? Just as reactive?” He repeats the action, toying with your nipple, palming the fat of your chest until your tits are quite literally tingling from sensitivity.

Before, his hands felt like ice compared to you, but now it seems as if the heat is coming from him. Instilling a warmth that stemmed from his fingertips, travelling down low, swirling in your gut, before it reaches your core. And so you’re shifting and squirming, your whole expression crumpling as you attempt to placate yourself even just a little. You can feel it, how your panties have just grown wetter and wetter - you’d bet they were completely soaked through by this point. Clinging to your folds, making you let out a gargle whine every time the fabric of your jeans brushes up against you. “I really did outdo myself, hm?”

Cody knows why you’re so restless. He can practically smell it, for fuck’s sake. The arousal radiating off of your body, charging the air with an electricity that sparked every time his hands met your body. And well, you’ve been well behaved. You haven’t once let the forceps so much as slip, even as you sputter over the drool flooding your mouth.

You had been so good. Such a fine specimen. It would only be fair to reward you.

And so his hand slides down lower, fingers curling below the waistband of your jeans - your hips kicking upwards immediately at the contact. “Ah-“ Cody shoots you a look, raising an eyebrow at you. “Be patient. Take what I give you.”

Slowly, he undoes the button of your jeans, popping it before the zipper comes down in quick succession. Then, he’s tugging at the fabric. “Poor thing, you’re so warm.” He keeps his right hand occupied with your tits, switching between the two to make sure each got an equal amount of love as he toyed with them. “Lift your hips.”

You don’t even hesitate, letting him peel your jeans off of your without an ounce of pushback. The fabric was damp with your sweat, clinging to your skin before he removed them completely and threw them to the ground. “And these too..” Your mind is hazy when your panties come off too, goosebumps pebble your thighs as the cool air of the lab hits your glistening cunt. “That’s better.”

Your underwear joins the rest of the clothing om the floor, and now you sit before him - practically completely bare with him fully clothed, shivering under his gaze - drool leaving your face and chest glistening whilst your inner thighs shine with your own slick. “Such a pitiful thing.”

Cody takes a step back, but not before he’s reaching up and finally removing the forceps from your mouth - making you let out a soft sigh of relief as your aching jaw is finally given a chance to relax. “Swallow. You’re making a mess.” Cody drops the forceps to the ground with a metallic clang, and you do just as he asks - gulping back all of the saliva that you were indeed making a mess with. “You have any idea what you look like right now?”

When a gloved finger meets the centr of your chest, your breathing hitches. It trails down the line of your sternum, down lower and lower, until it’s resting just below your belly button. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so pathetic.” He presses into your skin, right above your womb, like he was feeling the shape of your insides through the layer of your skin. Then, the journey continues. Inching down until his gloved hand meets your cunt, cupping it gently. “Can’t even think. I’ve turned you into a little doll.” He grins when his thumb presses down against your clit, watching how your body all but crumbles - a look of such unadulterated relief taking over your expression. You hadn’t been lying, you really did need this. “I wonder…”

He rolls your clit beneath the pad of his thumb, rubbing slow deliberate circles that make your breathing go shallow - your mouth dripping open slack as gasps and moans catch in your throat. “Do you even know how you’re acting right now?” Your slickness collects on the latex of his gloves, to which he smears it against your folds with an amused grin. “Would you be ashamed of you did?”

All he gets in response is a soft whimper. Just about the response he expected. “I’ve killed people, you know.” He murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he slowly sinks a finger into you. He can’t help the shudder that wracks his shoulders as he feels your inner walls wrap around him so deliciously. Somehow even hotter than your mouth was, and so much tighter. So incredibly relaxed though, sucking him eagerly, just like your throat had. You entire body was begging for it. “Ended countless lives with the hands you’re letting touch you right now.”

He gently pumps the digit into you, feeling you just go even more pliant with each movement. Struggling to stay upright, you’re nearly falling into him now, using your grip on his sweater as an anchor. When he adds another finger, you really do crumble. You nearly double over, falling into his chest and smearing drool against the fabric. Gasping into him as you leave his sweater stained and damp, helplessly rutting your hips back to meet his movements. “You don’t even care though, do you?” He scissors his fingers open, stretching you open even wider, and you sob. “Even if you weren’t drugged beyond all hell, you still wouldn’t, am I right?”

His other hand slides down to grip your waist again, tugging your hips back to meet him as he plunged his fingers into your cunt over and over again. Curling them in just the right way to leave you choking out moans to be muffled against his chest. “You knew it was a bad idea, but you kept talking to me. You showed up here, pushed further even though your gut was telling you something was very, very wrong.” The pads of his fingers rub against your gspot, prodding at the bundle of nerves until he could feel your tears wetting his hoodie. “You fell right into my arms. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Verbal communication is completely lost on you now, too busy drowning in a pool of ecstasy to form a single word. Too brainless to even truly process what he was saying. So, you just nod. Bucking your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers as the heat within you reaches a fever pitch. “I know.” He hums softly. “I know what type you are. You just want someone to take care of you, don’t you? Someone to make it all easier for you.”

He can feel it when your cunt starts twitching around his fingers, hear how your breathing was getting more and more frantic. Building and building, until- “I could do that for you.” Until it all snapped.

You let out a broken sob against Cody’s chest, clawing at him near frantically as your release hits you with such a force it makes your ears ring. Makes your vision white out. Leaving you to do nothing but completely melt into Cody like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He was. It felt like his body heat was the only thing to exist to you right. The only thing that was real.

“Cody-“ You gasp out, pressing your face further into his chest - almost as if you were trying to crawl beneath his skin, curl up snug in his ribcage to hide from the overwhelming intensity of what you felt. And yet, the heat persisted. You felt like you may just combust all over again if his hands ever left you. “Don’t- Don’t stop-“ You plead, still rutting up onto his fingers even when the overstimulation made your gut twist. “More-“

“What did I say about begging?” Cody tuts softly, ignoring your wishes as he pulls his fingers from your sopping wet cunt - before delivering a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll turn you back into a tool holder again if you keep whining.”

You sniffle softly and shake your head. Hair sticking to your face, moist with sweat and drool, you peer up at him as your bottom lip trembles. “I’ve given you more than enough, but you’re going to act like this?” He scoffs softly before grabbing your hips with both hands and tugging you to him. “I thought about just strapping you down and setting a camera up.” He murmurs, before releasing you - only to reach for the buckle of his belt.

Your heart leaps in your chest. “I’d let you cry your heart out, and no one would be around to hear you.” He slowly undoes his belt, eyes on you the entire time he pulls it from the loops of his jeans. “Not anyone who cares, anyway.” Your eyes are wide as you watch the button of his jeans come undone, before he’s tugging down the zipper and the waistband of his boxers rather quickly after. Freeing his cock with a soft hiss, he reaches down and curls his fingers around the base, giving it a few languid strokes. “What would you have done, hm? Beg me to let you go? Or would you do the same as right now, and beg for me to touch you instead?”

You know the answer, but to say it would drag you down even lower than you already are. So instead, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him right to you - the length of his cock sliding against your slick core. Cody lets out a near startled moan and immediately reaches down to grab your waist and still you. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He breathes out. His other hand comes up to cup the back of your head, holding you close to his chest as he ruts up against you languidly. Slipping through your folds, the head of his cock catching on your entrance every so often. It makes your breathing stutter every single time. “S’alright though. Told you already, you won’t have to worry about much here.”

Finally he gets himself lined up properly, taking a deep breath in as the hold on your hip tightens. Then, he’s pressing in, slow and steady for both of your sakes - though he’s probably the one who needs it the most. He had known that the feeling of you around his fingers was just a taste. So tight and warm it nearly makes his knees buckle, his eyes fluttering with each inch in. “Oh, that’s good-“ He groans out, hips bucking forwards even more, getting a couple more inches enveloped in your sweet velvety heat. “You.. God, you were made for this.”

With one last nudge, he sinks all the way in - his hips meeting yours in a motion that had you both moaning into each other, sparks zapping up your spine. “I might just-“ Cody’s hand slips from your waist downwards to grasp at your ass instead, latex clad fingers digging into the soft flesh as he draws his hips back. “I might just keep you this way.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, clinging to him as your thighs tremble around his hips. He just filled you so good. You didn’t know if it was from the drug swirling around in your veins, or if he really was just an incredible lay, but you didn’t really care. As his hips start to rock, you’d swear you could feel your brain melt out of your ears. Static filling your skull with each nudge of his cock against your walls. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” His voice is deeper now, raspy, strained like he was having to dig in deep to pull the words from his lungs. “Let me get you all loopy, begging for my dick day in and day out?”

He’s pulling you back against you with each thrust, leaning down to press his lips against the crown of your head - soft groans muffling into your hair. “You’d never have to worry about anything again. You wouldn’t even know how to.”

The rusty metal of the bed frame creaks every time your body jolts, the once quiet lab filled with the sound of absolute depravity. Your broken moans and whimpers, his absolutely filthy threats accompanied by panted breathing. Skin on skin, growing louder as the pace of his thrusts picked up - losing himself in you just as much as you were in him.

You can feel him throb inside you, pulsing with desire as your cunt does the same. Tightening up around him, sucking his cock in so good he’d swear he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. Your body was just pulling him in like a magnet, all control lost as he fucked more and more slick out of you - dirtying the front of his jeans and dripping down your thighs. So wet, every thrust was punctuated with a squelching sound that made his stomach flip. Made his ears burn hot. “So wet.” He murmurs out. “You feel incredible.”

You claw upwards to latch your lips onto his neck, drool smearing against his skin as you clumsily attempt to suck at his skin. It doesn’t work well, not with how uncoordinated you are, and so you’re left just leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses against his skin as you muffle your moans against him. He’d swear you were downright chanting his name too, breathing it out between each sweet whimper. Like a mantra. Like he was the only thing you knew existed. Moaning out your devotion, sealing it with the spit you left his skin slick with. “But you’re so messy.”

Cody’s hand curls back into your hair, tugging your head back and away from him - a thin line of saliva connecting your lips to his neck before it breaks. Then, it slips down and around to cup your face, fingers pressing into your jaw. “So dirty. Drooling all over me, making a mess on my cock.” His fingers squeeze your cheeks into a pucker, his hold keeping your hazy eyes trained on his face as his hips snap into yours. Harder. Deeper. Rough enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs twitch. “But you don’t care.” He mutters, huffing out ragged breaths as he tries to fight off his release - dreading the moment he had to peel himself away from your addictive skin. “I bet I could throw you over to Toby and you’d let me.”

“No-“ You whine, squirming in his hold as your squeeze your eyes shut.

“No?” Cody lets out a soft laugh, releasing his grip on your face just to land a couple light slaps against your slick cheek. “Just me?” You nod weakly, moans growing higher and higher in pitch as he brings you to the brink once more. Thighs locking around his hips, whole body trembling as it moves against him. “You really are stupid.” And then he’s grinding the head of his cock against your gspot, catapulting you over the edge with barely even a second to blink before it happens.

So overwhelmed that the tears just double, wetting the latex of his glove when he smooths his thumb against your reddened cheek. You arch up into him completely, your bare chest meeting the soft fabric of his sweater as stars dance behind your eyelids - the moans that slip from your lips so loud, and yet you can barely even hear yourself. Barely even bring yourself back to reality.

All you can focus on is the pleasure that buzzes through your veins and washes over your skin. His cock still pumping into you sloppily, fucking you through your release as your cunt convulses around him. His breath against your skin, hot and heavy, his composure having far too many cracks to stay intact.

His grip on you is near bruising, his moans strained, sweat beading up on his forehead to roll off the tip of his nose.

He hadn’t been lying when he had said it had been awhile since he last got to lose himself like this, and so to break that streak with someone like you? This soft, supple body that just took everything he gave you with no complaints? You were heaven sent. Like a gift from god, dropped straight onto his doorstep.

He fucks you until your moans turn into sweet little satisfied whimpers, and then he’s pulling out - backing up and pulling you along with him. Letting your weak knees give out just so that you crumple to the floor in front of him, staring up at him bleary eyed and confused. “Your mouth.” He huffs out, reaching down and grabbing you by the chin. “Open it.”

And of course, just as last time, you oblige.

Jaw dropping slack, your eyes flutter closed in complete submission. A sight that nearly has Cody’s buckling before he even nudges his cock against your tongue.

His teeth are grit from the effort it takes him to reel it back in, his entire body trembling from the strain of it all as he cradles the back of your head and pulls your mouth down onto him. Slipping into that wet heat so easily, sliding down your throat with not even an ounce of resistance. Even when he started bucking his hips into it, his soft grunts ringing through the air each time your nose pressed into his pelvis.

You really were like a doll, just sitting there and taking it, bare skin against the concrete flooring as your lips suction around him - sucking him back in eagerly every time he pulled out. Moaning every time his length pressed into your throat.

So perfect, he’d feel incredibly cocky over the overwhelming success that his creation turned out to be, but he can’t focus on that right now.

He was too busy falling apart before you.

He doesn’t get to fuck your throat for nearly as long as he’d like to before his hips are stuttering. Nails scratching against your scalp as his fingers curled into your hair, pulling you right down onto him as he finally let go. Hot release shot straight down your throat, you could feel the heat of it settle low in your stomach. Almost too much to gulp down, sputtering as he lazily rocks his hips to ride it out.

When he pulls out, your eyes flutter back open - hazy and unfocused - ears ringing from the intensity of it all.

And Cody looked… Lovely. Red faced, hair slick with sweat, his chest heaving as his expression melted into one of pure unadulterated bliss.

You almost wished you could’ve dwelled on it, appreciated it more, but - you are only human after all, and there’s only so much a human can take.

So you get one last look at him. At those green eyes, sparkling with what almost looked like adoration towards you, before your body crumples. Stars in your vision before your vision blacks out completely, leaving you to be nothing but a pitiful heap at his feet.

When you awake once more, your body feels heavy. Weighted. Your eyes burn as you blink against the bright lights above you, your limbs feeling as if they had been replaced with lead blocks. You can feel something beneath you. Something soft, and yet when you shift - it crinkles.

The bed. In Cody’s lab.

You’re still here. Of course you would be.

You force yourself upwards with a pained groan, the movement immediately enticing a brutal headache to rip through your skull.

Your hand flies up to your head, to your temple - a hiss of pain breaking up the silence in the room.

“Ah, good morning.” You have your eyes squeezed closed, the lights in the lab too bright to bear, but you know that voice. It was the last one you had heard before everything went back. “You slept for… About twelve hours. It’s almost midnight.” You feel a hand come to rest on your back, warm and absolute, like a soothing salve for your discomfort. “I was a little worried, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You definitely needed the rest.”

His hand smooths across your shoulder, and it's then that you realize that you’re still bare. It's then that you notice how cold you are, compared to him. “You look like you’re in pain, is the comedown truly that bad?”

You barely manage a weak nod, and you hear Cody let out a soft hum. “Hm. That’ll be something to work on. I’ll get you painkillers.”

Then his hand retreats, leaving behind a warm handprint against you goosebump pebbled skin. “Oh-“

A pause, and then there’s a thud on the bed before you. Curiosity getting the better of you, you peel your eyes open - squinting against the harsh lighting. And you don’t know if you should’ve expected it, but the sight of a wad of cash before you nearly makes you laugh. You probably would’ve if you had the energy to. “Your pay. Told you, I didn’t lie.”

You don’t even reach for it, though it was the driving force for you even coming here in the first place. It just seemed so insignificant now.

So… Stupid. What was the point even, anymore? It was useless to you now. Just a stack of paper that meant nothing.

Money’s no use to the dead.

And for all intents and purposes, that’s practically what you were right now. Dead to the world, at least. Dead to everyone outside of this lab.

And so you simply shake your head, scooting back further on the bed to distance yourself from it further.

“Keep it.” You force out hoarsely. “I don’t need it.”

And Cody smiles.

He had known you would say that.

————————————————————————-☆

holy FUCK I did not mean to make this so long. oh my god. looked at the word count at the end and my eyes bugged out of my skull

whatEVER cody debut on my blog in the nastiest way ever LOLLLL

thank you for reading!

[gunwoo-bh]

For Better or For Worse [GUNWOO x Fem!reader]

FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE

Gunwoo x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: You are a nurse living alone when you become close to Gunwoo's mom and him over the course of a few years when Smile Capital attempts to destroy people's livelihoods. For better or for worse, you support your friends old and new as they fight the greedy loan sharks threatening to ruin your lives.

Warning: mentions of covid, no warnings aside from that until i see wether I write more or not

AN: Hi everyone. Let me start by saying I am nervous to post on here but I love this show and these characters so much. This is not proof-read so pardon any mistakes. I haven't written in so very long so I am rusty, plus English is not my first language. I don't know if this will be a bigger thing but let me know if you want another chapter or for this to be turned into a fic. Enjoy!

PROLOGUE

You were never one to notice these things, but when Ms. Yoon who owned your favourite café had up and gone, store and storefront destroyed, there was no choice but to notice. Nobody could ignore the string of events similar to these happening everywhere since COVID has struck the world. You had heard the stories, urging your own parents to avoid falling for these scams in fear that something similar may happen to them. 

“Don’t sign something without having read everything, especially the fineprint, mhm?” You had pleaded with your parents months ago, slipping them an envelope with money.

But walking down the road to grab a pastry and coffee from your favourite café, your heart sank when the building came into sight. Slowing down and coming to a stop while watching what remains of your favourite part of every day. A crowd had gathered as police secured the building as best they could, people whispering and gossiping about what may have happened. A few minutes pass before you tear your gaze away from the scene, glancing back a handful of times before going to work.

It was almost four years ago you had waltzed into Ms. Yoon’s café, new to the neighbourhood and nervously exploring the area. Gentle and kind, she had welcomed you and made you feel like you had never left your parents’ home and as a then 20 year old, this had felt like the perfect welcome to the solo life you were pursuing. On more than one occasion she had shown you around the city for the best secrets the city could offer for the lowest cost. Many times you had gone to her café simply to keep her company or to help her since her only son was in the military.

You had met Gunwoo almost a year later when he returned from his mandatory service. Your introduction to Ms. Yoon’s son had been unplanned, bumping into them at the market on a warm Saturday morning. It hadn’t taken you long to notice her son’s shy demeanor, shyly bowing to each other when his mom giddily introduced the both of you. Blushing intensely throughout the entire interaction, there was no denying how intrigued you had been then about the unassuming young man.

GUNWOO, on the other hand, had begun hearing about you eight or so months before the end of his military service. Every day away he spent worrying about his mother alone in Seoul, managing her business without any help until she had mentioned you. And when she continued to bring up the ‘young woman who comes around often’ he felt better knowing his mom had made something akin to a friend even with the gentle teasing from his mother about how pretty you were, he felt less guilty that he had chosen now to do his service. 

So, standing in the market holding a bag of his mother’s purchases while she gushed to both of you about finally meeting the other he finally met your gaze and bowed, looking away timidly when your eyes focused on him. They bid you a quick goodbye and Gunwoo caught himself looking back at you as they walked away. It wasn’t a shock to anybody when you two became friends, Gunwoo entirely too focused on pursuing his boxing career and working as much as he could to help his mother with their growing debt to focus on the pretty young woman that crept up in his mind whenever he allowed himself to.

Visiting the market, helping clean the café, countless dinners with them and many times being walked home by Gunwoo were now part of day to day life. And being in attendance to his boxing matches had become something he looked forward to. 

Then, COVID hit. You had been spared losing your job as a nurse, obviously, but this meant constantly working. Many business owners such as Ms. Yoon and your parents had been hit so hard, debt accumulating and struggling to pay rent. You had even begun working a second job whenever you had free time to help your parents, sending whatever extra money you had on hand. 

Heading to work, eyes down in your phone you quickly typed a message to not only Gunwoo but to his mother asking them what had happened. Concerned, there was no other choice but to clock into work and focus as best as you can until the day ended. A cloud of worry washes over throughout the entirety of your shift, barely able to do your duties. 

You were eight hours into a twelve hour shift when you finally receive a response from Gunwoo’s mom that simply causes your heart to drop in the pit of your stomach. 

Loan sharks attacked the store. Gunwoo got hurt, he’s at your hospital getting his stitches clean right now. I hate to impose, but he doesn’t want to worry me. Could you check in on him if he’s still there?

Standing in the middle of a hallway in absolute stunned silence, you’re unable to move an inch while processing what his mother has just said to you. What feels like minutes pass when you snap your head up to check what floor you’re on, shoving the phone back in your scrubs and fast walking to the elevator. Damn your duties for the moment, what matters more is figuring out what kind of injury Gunwoo has. The elevator doors can’t seem to open fast enough, foot tapping rhythmically until the familiar ding takes you out of your reverie. Darting out, you scan the waiting room mid hallway for any sign of Gunwoo, but only as you get closer do you see a door open from an office to your left and the familiar green jacket brings out a sigh of relief.

“Oppa…” You call out softly, muffled by the mask. 

Gunwoo stills and right away from under his mask you see the bandage covering an enormous injury on his right cheek. Your chest tightens when he turns to face you, his eyes are soft and dare you say, embarrassed? Ashamed, maybe? You can’t tell, but when you meet halfway, he looks down when your hand gently reaches to touch his injury before hesitating. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” He nods softly, avoiding eye contact before glancing over to someone sitting in the waiting area. 

“Yah, Gunwoo…” Both of you snap your heads to the young man who now stands, watching the both of you before giving you a small bow which you return. “How many stitches did you get?” 

“About 30…” Gunwoo's shoulders sag, looking at you and stepping closer. “Can you please check on my mom after your shift? I promise I’ll explain everything later…”

You want to start protesting, glancing between your friend and his friend, “Okay. I’ll text you when I’m with her, mhm?”

He thanks you, obviously fighting his desire to explain everything and whatever he has going on with the friend with him. He doesn’t introduce you yet but you’re sure it’s not the last time you’ll see him. Reluctantly stepping away, glancing back one final time to their retreating figures, you take your phone out to send him a message you didn’t have the guts to say to him directly.

Be safe, please.

[vamptarotscam]

MY CONVERSATION WITH @vamptarot

Now, before we proceed with more evidence I want you to read this post from the perspective of someone who has dealt with scammers frequently in their day to day life.

Tumblr is a community of mainly young and vulnerable people who unfortunately fall for scams because they do not know better. Take it from someone who is older and went through those games lots of times.

Manipulative suicide threats are often used by toxic people to deflect accountability and emotionally blackmail others. That is abusive behaviour and it's important to name that.

Tumblr has a history of users weaponizing mental health to gain sympathy or derail consequences, most people will take what scammers say at face value. I do not personally fault those people, however, let's name this for what it is: emotional manipulation, suicide baiting, pointing fingers, avoiding accountability and gaslighting.

I didn’t want to have to share this, but I need to. Because people deserve to know the full extent of @vamptarot’s behaviour.

After I exposed her repeated scamming, lies, and mistreatment of paying clients, she dm'd me, not to apologize, not to clarify, but to threaten to end her life if I didn’t stop holding her accountable.

I want to make something very clear: - I take mental health seriously. - I do not wish harm on anyone. - But using suicide threats as a shield to avoid responsibility is abusive. Full stop.

This wasn’t a vulnerable cry for help. It was a weapon. A way to silence me and shift blame onto me. As if I caused this by TELLING THE TRUTH.

She told me I was “ruining her life.” No. What ruined her reputation was her own behaviour:

Lying to clients for months

Refusing to give refunds

Not sending readings people paid for and ghosting them

Gaslighting and guilt tripping people who asked for updates and proof

Using tragedy after tragedy to stall, deflect, and avoid consequences

That’s on her. Not me. Not the other people she scammed. And not the truth.

I’ll be sharing the screenshots so you can see exactly what was said because people deserve to know how far this manipulation goes. Approach this with a very stern mind.

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/vamptarotscam/782171137783332864/the-audacity?source=share

She did not send any further proof about other loan applications because there were none.

She never planned on giving people their refunds, no matter what she says.

I am still waiting to hear back from people who are still waiting for their readings, keep that in mind too.

More excuses as you can see. She was "advised" to. Sure.

She keeps being angry at me for exposing her scam. Oh well. That's on you, @vamptarot, not on me.

This is the same person who said that they have a job and they take care of their family, fyi. All lies once again

Trying to look innocent again. IJBOL.

Again, "I'm not a scammer!", refuses to provide proof, keeps lying and so on. This is who you are defending.

This matter could have been solved easily by backing her claims and simply by not lying. I have another post coming up with a different client who also got scammed and lied to (yes, again).

[rhenuvee]

Playing Animal Crossing New Horizons with Genshin Boys [Modern AU]

A/N: This is not important but I almost wrote sea bass with the characters

»»———————————-««

Treats it like Minecraft. Farms the heck out of your island for materials, and makes his own little "base" that's bordered by fences. Has enough wood, rocks, iron nuggets, etc to supply him for a year.

Razor, Bennett, Albedo, Alhaitham, Chongyun, Gorou, Kazuha, Mika, Thoma, Tighnari, Wanderer, Xiao

Chaotic. Attacks you with a net, sends you purposely cringey notes with a smelly sea bass attached, dresses like a hot dog after telling him to dress nice for a picture, probably decorates his house like a demon summoning ritual.

Childe, Cyno (does it to make you laugh), Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Venti

Has sooo many bells... and from what?? He is your resident glucose father, always giving his bells to you to pay your debts. That 75,000 bell piano? It's yours. Really good with the Daisy Mae stonks, buys 100 turnips every time.

Alhaitham (asks you to catch a Coelacanth first), Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya

Broke. You’re the one with millions of bells. Takes so long for him to get out of the tent, and can't pay his home loans for days- but always has money for buying random things like a chair? Sometimes they have bells, but still ask you for some to annoy you. Also frequently gets scammed by Redd.

Bennett, Itto, Kaveh ("why does this feel oddly familiar..?"), Venti

Trash island. They are hoarders (honestly me). Your island's trees are still at the original random locations, along with weeds you have to pick every time, and some unknown "leaves" scattered everywhere. You say this is the reason Isabel gave your island a 2* rating but he denies it.

Bennett, Razor, Cyno, Itto, Venti

Clumsy. Always gets stung by wasps because he never takes out the net on time, falls for pitfall seed traps, and lots and lots of sea bass.

Bennett, Gorou, Itto, Kaveh

Treats it like Pokemon. Catches every single fish, bug and ocean species, completes the art gallery, every DIY. If you need something caught or made, he's your man.

Albedo, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Freminet, Kazuha, Mika, Razor, Heizou, Thoma, Tighnari

Wholesome af. This one gifts you sweet letters with nice gifts, aw. Plants lots of flowers outside your houses. Always gives you things you need. Probably decorated a small little space your you two, and gives the villagers nice gifts too.

Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Freminet, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Mika, Thoma, Venti

Doesn't really play video games... but he knows you like it so he tries to understand it. He's like a tourist, following you around, occasionally getting sidetracked by random things such as villagers. He doesn't know about the mailing system (yet) so he drops off gifts for you in front of your house.

Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Diluc, Gorou, Kazuha, Mika, Razor, Thoma, Xiao, Zhongli

Villager drama enthusiast (but chaotic). You tell him about your island and the personalities of your villagers. He goes a step further by making up gossip like "_____ cannot be neighbours with _____ because he cheated on her with _____!"

Childe, Kaeya, Kaveh, Lyney, Heizou, Venti, Xingqiu

The artist. Takes Animal Crossing very seriously. Has only the best clothes and furniture, sometimes making his own custom designs. Terraformed and decorated your island to a T, and takes cute pictures with you in the museum's aquarium, fireworks festival, etc.

Kaveh, Kaeya, Kazuha, Lyney, Venti

The competitive one. Originally he thought Animal Crossing was just a cutesy game. Once you introduce him to it, it doesn't take long for him to complain about Tom Nook being a capitalist and struggling to pay his loans and complete the museum. You offer to help but he insists on doing it himself.

Itto, Tighnari, Wanderer, Kaveh

»»———————————-««

[stitchieau-the-actual-one]

ATTENTION

these are scam accounts making scam asks

Report and Block if received❢

Are all of them really scams?

YES❢ These are indeed all scams. Reblogging and/or giving these people money IS NOT HELPING❢ sadly the opposite actually. Remember, this is Tumblr not a humanitarian organization or charity. It’s a place for fandom people to communicate and post their content or shitpost or whatever.

Wow~ you’re racist for saying this, what if they’re tots legit?!

1) nobody in an active war zone has time to setup a go fund me, tumblr account, write a post, link the gofundme (we will get to you eventually but not today sadly) let alone go to all these different random accounts on mass to ask for aid… when they can go to already available humanitarian aid present and willing to help them. In an active crisis, train to help them in said crisis, with the resources to help them with said crisis.

(Edit: To clarify this is exclusively for tumblr, video platforms like tiktok are a more equipped for mass private fundraising campaigns and support a specific individual monetarily. There is a time and place for everything. Context is very important)

2) these are like… basic run of the mill scam messages. I get it not everyone here was around for “how to detect scams on the internet 101” or “internet safety 101” but the long and short of it is that all of these messages share the same information, these accounts all follow each other and lo and behold carry the same exact message copy pasted. Also notice the amount they’re asking for…

So what it’s just $5-.

It👏 will👏 not👏 stop👏 at👏$5👏‼️

$5 is the minimum amount required to establish a link between two bank accounts… doesn’t matter who the sender or receiver is. It only needs $5 to confirm and establish that link.

Which they will use to steal everything…

Or at least until you report it to the bank, change your account number, pins, banking address. But at that point, your money is well and lost. These scammers can also use this number to reck your credit score (which means making big purchases like a car or house is cooked), falsify loans, attach your name to literally anything their heart desires without your knowledge.

Why are you even bothering?

Because I care and don’t want some greaseball scum human to steal from you or those around you.

What do I do? They’re anonymous?

Did you know you can still report anon asks as scams the same way you do posts. Make sure to also block the account and spread this so others know not to fall for em. And remember these aren’t actually people in distress or genuine need, it’s just a shitturd pulling at your heart strings to try and rob you blind.

Scammers are like the fae, only you have the iron to yeet them into the abyss.

Edit: I also feel like I need to mention first and foremost this is NOT a political post by any means, and I do not want to touch that specific topic with a 10ft pole. It’s just me informing you guys of scammymcscammerson is on the bend again

[honaras]

Left me hangin'

I feel like it's not that good, but I'm hoping that I'm completely wrong, idk its my first story that ive ever posted, estoy scared. My own opinions about class and capitalism are definitely smushed into this somewhere. also, hella run-ons.

you're a criminal, he's your mark. you leave him out to dry, and then he finds you, but not for his money back.

It was a normal day. You woke up in your apartment, fed your cats, and counted how many scams you'd have to run to make rent this month. It's not your first choice, or second, or third. Fuck it wasn't even your seventh choice, but your dad had a gambling problem. Since you were little your dad would stay out for days on end, sitting at the tables or playing the slots. He had one big win and took it as a good sign, but the loan sharks didn't care about good signs.

They came to your door, banging on it like they were cops, not like that would have been any better. So you, just 4 years old, and your two brothers, 7 and 11, sat in the bathroom with your mother as you heard the men fight. He got his ass kicked and a hearty threat, demanding their money back with interest and leaving with a slam of your front door.

Somehow, he got them paid, but he didn't stop gambling. He found new loaners and new casinos. You lived under his addiction for years, and when it was time to move out, because you desperately wanted to move out, you had nothing. Your brothers helped, and you could always stay with your parents, but you found your footing.

It wasn't 'legal' footing per say, but you had to live.

It's not like you're scamming innocent people. All the men you took money from were bad, all rich, and sleazy. You don't feel bad. People don't get that rich by just working hard.

Along with your minimum wage and tips from the diner, you got by just fine. After your shifts on Fridays, you run home and get dressed up. Tiny dresses that snatched you and leave just enough covered you don't look like a prostitute, not that that's bad, we all do what we need to do, you just liked to differentiate. You have a couple of clubs you frequent, you have friends in most of them, and they cover for you when things get muddy.

"C'mon sweetheart, show an old man a good time,"

His breath stings with vodka and his hands roam a little too much, not to mention that he's over 45.

"Just give me a couple minutes to freshen up, handsome," You say, smiling coyly and pretending to feel across his chest as you lift the wallet off him. You turn away, waving your fingers as you walk away.

"God, men make me fucking nauseous, I'm calling it early tonight," Sandie turns to you, smiling.

"I found a guy for you. He's loaded, sleazy and arrogant. Just your type." She nods to the right, and you look,

"I don't know, I'm tired of working tonight..." The words dissolve on your tongue as you turn, your eyes setting upon a man with bright white hair. He's wearing circular, rimless glasses, clear and blue, along with a black suit and a grin. He's talking to the other bartender working tonight, a tall, broad man with long black hair tied up neatly. I can hear his laugh all the way down the bar.

Oh yeah, he's my type.

You smile thankfully at your friend and she winks at you, watching as you glide across the club to him.

You climb onto a stool, setting your drink down next to his on the counter.

You see his smirk as he turns to you, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Hey, sugar, whatcha doin' here tonight? What's got a pretty girl like you all alone?"

There it is, "Oh, I was out with friends but they all went home with someone," You play your part, blushing and nervous as you talk to the oh-so handsome man before you.

"Shame that they left you all alone. Good thing I'm here to keep you company,"

You fake a giggle at his words, covering your mouth and letting a piece of hair fall in front of your face.

"Well, how do you know I want company?" You ask, looking at him and batting your pretty eyelashes at him. He leans in closer, but it's not threatening or hungry like it usually is, it's kind of... friendly? Like he wants to talk, like, for real.

"I'll leave you alone if you want, but I know I'd like some company, sugar,"

That gets you, he's obviously arrogant and rich out of his mind, but he doesn't put hands where they're not supposed to be or lean in to intimidate you. It's a low bar, but after being surrounded by the type of men you've been surrounded by, it's kind of refreshing.

But this is still your job. It's not like this guy is prince charming or something, he's a mark.

"If you want some company, we could get out of here? How close do you live?"

Your smile is hypnotizing, all bright and coy as you hint that you'd like to sleep with him. His face brightens up, and as he stands, his height surprises you. He looked like he was tall, but he's huge. His suit jacket flaps open, and you see the pocket and, more importantly, his wallet.

"Let's go then, sugarboots,"

That's a new one.

He takes your hand as you stand, but you trip, on purpose. You make a fake, surprised noise and catch yourself on his chest, taking the wallet between two fingers.

"Steady there, sugarplum,"

You smile, fake sheepishness and embarrassment coloring your face.

"Don't worry about it, honeybunch, I got you,"

You tuck the wallet into your purse as he leads you toward the exit. As if the heavens themselves came into that club to save you, he bumps into another man. The other guy is fucking hammered and starts to get aggressive. He tries to calm him down, and as he's distracted, you walk away into the crowd and out of his sight.

When you check the wallet, you find his ID in one of the card slots and a rewards card to a bakery in the ID slot. Weird guy. But Gojo is indeed loaded.

$750 is a pretty good haul for one night.

The next afternoon, you go back out, dressed up again and at a different club all the way across town. It's a good time to find lonely men, but you're careful during the day. It's harder to disappear.

It's a dry day, there's no good targets, other than one man but he looked so sad that you didn't have it in you to steal from him.

You clock in at the diner at 8, already tired and done with dealing with people for the day. This shift is even worse, a customer yells at you for a kitchen mistake, the line chefs are especially short, and you roll your ankle as you take the trash out.

You're done, exhausted, and irritated. It’s been a shit day, and you want to go home and cuddle with your cat. When it's finally the end of your shift, you clean up the dining room and prep your side work for tomorrow. You get lime juice in a papercut.

After you say bye to the other servers and tip out the bussers, you leave through the back door, making sure it closes fully before turning around.

You freeze at the figure leaning on the wall, covered in darkness with the glint of his white hair telling you exactly who it is.

"Y'know, it's pretty rude to leave a man hanging. To think I was gonna take you home with me, I never do that."

Of course, you'd been confronted before, but not the next day, not like this. Usually, the men realized their wallet was missing and came to find you outside or cornered you at the bar. Never has a man ever tracked you down after the fact, or at least not successfully. You turn the wallets in at the police stations after you're not interested in family pictures and 2-year old condoms. You take the cash, the credit cards, anything else you can trade or pawn, and give them to a cop on the street or drop them off in a paper bag at the front door of the station. You don't take sentimental stuff.b

His stupid smirk jumps out at you as he steps forward.

"What's wrong, little sugarplum? I thought we were having a nice time,"

"I don't have your money,"

At least not on me,

He laughs, why the fuck is he laughing? He takes a wide step closer to you and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I don't care about the money, I have plenty of that,"

Shuuut up

"So why did you find me? How did you find me?"

"I'm very well connected, sweetie,"

His tone is light and mocking, like all of this is obvious, like you should just know that he's sooo great. "I want my wallet back, and I wanted to see you again. I wasn't faking interest, unlike someone I know,"

His childish tone makes something hot rises in your chest. It's angry and violent, but small, like a simmering pot of water.

"I don't have it on me," you shrug, like you expect him to accept that and move on. He laughs once again.

"I guess we'll have to go get it then,"

You knew he wouldn't let it go, and he found where you work. He might already know where you live, so you take him there. Obviously, you make him wait outside the door.

When you finally get the wallet out of your safe, of course, after taking the money he said he didn't care about, you walk back to your door.

"Here, Gojo," you say, handing it to him. He grins at you, and he takes the leather wallet, brushing his hand against yours.

"Bye, sugar, I'll be seeing you,"

No he won't.

[onthepyre]

a little more about the milkovich crime family (check out the post that inspired this au if you're lost)

mickey and svetlana are mainly loan sharks and fraudsters. the sharking is more mickey's domain; he's downright scary when he needs to be, and with his brothers by his side, he's fucking terrifying. nobody argues with him, and he makes back near double what he loans out. he's also the figurehead for a lot of the smaller theft they carry out - cars, credit cards, petty robberies - it all trickles up to mickey.

svet, on the other hand, has a talent for general racketeering - she deals in stolen goods and counterfeiting, bribery, and money laundering. she dictates the confidence tricks and identity theft they run, too. she's more charming than mickey is, and better at getting in people's heads, but she can be just as threatening as he is.

they've got toes dipped in a lot of other things, too. before terry's untimely death (soon after yev's birth), the milkoviches were pretty deep in the south side's drug trafficking rings. it's definitely still something they do, but since mickey took over, they've backed off on that a little. the other milkovich siblings have their own scams - gambling rings, blackmail, moonshine, you name it. maybe a little murder-for-hire. as a treat.

they've met the gallaghers several times. it started when lip went into college. scholarships didn't quite cover it, and no bank was going to give him a loan. enter mickey. once lip started working for the police, he got a little squirrely, but when svet offered to forgive the debt in exchange for protection from arrest, well. what could he say?

fiona's a gambler, and her run-ins with the milkoviches fall there. she's fucking good at it, and she always seems to take home a little more cash on days when tip-offs about chicago's organized crime end up going to lip or carl.

right around the time lip started college, ian landed a bartending job at the milkovich front. he was too young to be doing it legally, but they payed reasonably well and under the table, untaxed. he left on good terms when he started training as an emt a couple years later. he was nearly fired from that job after missing a chunk of work during a particularly rough low, but something made his boss reconsider. he never found out for sure, but he's got an inkling what (who) it was.

[digo3d]

If Top Cat were to have a proper finale, how do you think it should end?

Hmmmmm good kestion

See my first thought was that Dibble dies which would certainly be *A* way to end the series but that's some shit I'd pull if I'm feeling evil, Hanna n Barbera would never do that.

See when approaching this question you gotta think; is it gunna be an angsty ending or a fluffy ending?

Likely fluff since again, HB.

I'd like to imagine the finale would be a two parter and involve something that really makes the gang's love for each other shine, rather than something like Top Cat's Biggest Scam Ever And Now They're Set For Life type thing. Frankly if the show ended with them leaving the alley some way I think that'd be very dissatisfying since the show's been very adamant about the fact that they're all very content with being alley cats.

I've thought of 3 possible episodes for a finale and will spit them out here:

Christmas episode: We finally get that fuckass Christmas episode that was basically teased in T.C. falls in love (y'know Fancy's line that goes 'And how he used to love Christmas. It was always, well, special with him.') T.C. n the gang have had a particularly hard year due to the weather and an increasingly cat-hating political climate and T.C. fears that the gang's starting to lose faith in him since it's been weeks since their last real meal. In fear of losing the gang and to cheer them up he decides he's gunna make sure they have the best Christmas ever. The first part of this Christmas finale special would show their struggles and how hostile everyone's suddenly become to cats, and then T.C. planning out their Best Christmas, with the first part ending with T.C. asking a favor from a crime boss who's daughter he had saved a while ago (a la Zootopia) and then the second part picks up with T.C. getting everything prepared on Christmas Eve with Dibble's help. The episode continues into Christmas Day where the gang wakes up to see the alley absolutely decked to the halls with a giant Christmas tree and a huge pile of presents underneath it with a freshly prepared breakfast for them. They enjoy some other Christmas festivities before it's finally time to start opening all the presents T.C. got for them. They start off with Brain, who asks T.C. how he managed to pull all of this while he tries to guess what present is in the box. T.C. explains that he just called out a small loan as a favor from aforementioned crime boss and then freezes as he remembers the one small detail that T.C. forgot about. He only had that loan for Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day, and was supposed to have all the money back by 12 PM on Christmas, not midnight like he thought. Some goons bust into the alley and start tearing down all the decorations and taking away all the festivities. One of them even rips Brain's present right out of his paws. T.C. begs and pleads the boss to extend the loan but everything is final. The goons leave the alley with nothing festive remaining. Everyone's quiet as they hear the extremely rare sound of T.C. sniffling at the end of the alley. This would be the first time any of them had really seen him cry like this. He notices that they noticed, and he pretends to act as cool as he always does, but eventually scuttles away. The gang finds him later hiding in a corner trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. Benny taps his shoulder, and T.C. sees him holding one shoddily-wrapped present. He explains that the gang only managed to scrape together enough money to buy one present, and figured that T.C. should get to have it. Although slightly surprised, T.C. takes the present and opens it. He pulls out a luxurious, fluffy blanket. 'Y'know cuz like, uh, yours don't keep you warm anymore.' Spook explains. T.C. smiles and purrs quietly as he rubs his face on the soft blanket. He opens his mouth to explain his grievances. 'I just... I just wanted to-' 'We know, T.C. Don't worry about it.' Chooch says. 'I... Heh. It's a silly thought but I was scared that you lot were givin' up on me.' T.C. admits. 'Duhhhh, we'd never give up on you, T.C.! You're, uhh, you're our Top Cat!' 'And like, uh, we don't need none of those, like, sellout decorations or, uh, wild presents, dad.' 'Yeah, Christmas is special because of you, not some high-end way of living.' Fancy purrs. T.C., with a quivering smile, wipes away some tears. 'You idiots, you're all gunna make me cry.' The episode (and series) ends with them heading back to the alley and huddling all together underneath T.C.'s new blanket. Dibble leaves a big Christmas ham for them as they sleep on his way home.

T.C. gets kidnapped because he tried to scam the wrong person and the gang + Dibble has to save him without his leadership guiding them. I don't have nearly as many specifics for this one as I did the Christmas one but this could be neat. This could also work with a plot similar to The Movie where T.C. gets arrested for a crime he never committed and the gang has to prove his innocence.

Dibble's thinking of retiring and the gang, while initially ecstatic, remembers all the other times some other cop was pounding his beat and desperately try to convince him not to

TL:DR based on how much I've written for each of these, probably the Christmas episode I proposed.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Summoning

It all started with a random book. It was plain and rather dull looking. They both had every intention to toss such a useless thing aside. That is... until they saw the cover.

'How to get everything you desire in 5 easy steps!' Of course, the lazy pair would fall for such a scam like title. Of course, they would go through with everything it said.

After all, they were gullible to a fault. Always looking for quick ways to get rich. Always ignoring hard work and effort.

Step 1: Gather the following items. Candles, chalk, blood, & Sage.

Step 2: Find a secluded dark spot. Ensure it's private.

Step 3: proceed to draw the following diagram in both chalk and blood.

Step 4: light candles and read allowed the following lines. "hic meos animos manes. te gelido e tenebris arcesso barathrum. pacisci velim. cupiditas, cupiditas." (Translation: spirits of the deep, here my call. i summon you from the cold dark abyss. i wish to strike a bargain. desire for desire.)

Step 5: make a deal with the demon you have summoned. 'Warning do no cross the summoning circle or allow the demon out of it.'

It was all simple. They had plenty of candles to use, they bought chicken blood from the butcher. Chalk and sage were easy enough to get as well.

They should really make it harder to summon demons. Especially the more powerful ones. But no demons love easy prey after all.

So, in the dark, secluded basement, they proceeded with their work. Working in candlelight as they drew a large circle on the floor. It was almost ridiculous how attentive they were.

And, of course, it somehow works. It shouldn't have worked, but it did. Summoning Sullivan of all demons.

Being the greedy cowards they are, they don't even consider giving their own souls. No. They offer their sons instead. Like he was some kind of coupon!

Not that Sullivan seemed to care about who's soul he received. Although he was happy, he came out with such a great deal. His grandson was worth a x100 what he paid.

Their son, who had been currently at sea, working hard to send them money. Ungrateful ingrates. Scum of the earth.

Not even offering an explanation. Just asking him to do it. Telling him to be good and do this for them. Disgusting, horrible, trash. Sending a child to hell in their place.

And all of this for what? Money? They most likely burned through it in a week or two. Ending up deeper in debt than ever before.

Having no Iruma to work off their debts for them this time. No escaping the loan sharks this time. Nothing left but a life of misery for those two.

[thoraeth]

Words: 2500

A/N: This chapter turned out long af so it's splitted in two parts. I'll see you next Sunday with the juicy fluff 🖤✨

Summary: Cornered by the lack of money, Captain Romi gets into business with the Cross Guild. As the jester worries about his new exlpoding item, things are about to blow up in his face for a whole different reason.

Chapter 4 (PT1) - Ignition

<CH3 CH4(pt2) | Read on Ao3

One hour. Two hours. Four hours have passed.

Kneeling before the cockpit’s closed doors, Meg and Torres are shooing away an irritated Allen from a small box. When Ava appears behind their back, her voice startles them:

“There you are! What’s going on?”

“Shhh!” Torres hisses, alarmed.

“Give the stethoscope back!”

Allen is throwing himself at the box; a quick quarrel and Meg snatches the instrument away from him, pushing it back against the doors’ metal.

“Shut your holes, everyone, they picked up.” the woman whispers.

They all gather around a tiny screen on the doctor’s stethoscope: it’s showing a dark control room. There, a slim guy with black hair and headphones is connecting a Den Den Mushi to a computer; a woman with glasses and a blue-haired man nervously pacing around him.

As the snail's eyes light up, a croaky voice comes out of it.

“You fucking son of a bitch, where are you?!”

Inside the cockpit, Sir Crocodile’s voice explodes with all his wrath.

Buggy runs to the radio “Hey, handsome! Long time, uh? Did you get the papers?”

“Come back to Karai Bari! Now!”

“I will…Eventually.” the jester sweats nervously, his voice lowering and rising again. “Meanwhile, could you read those papers? Pretty please!”

“You’re in no position…you…and…where… Not now, Hawk, I'm on the phone!”

The snail turns to the side, mimicking the scarred man's anger as he seems to be talking to someone far away.

“He sent what?! Buggy, loan’s the last word your filthy mouth should utter!”

“Oh, Crocky. I know our previous ventures weren't all sunshines and rainbows, but you gotta trust me, my Egghead pals did the math this time!” A malevolent grin darkens his face.

“You heard me right. E-g-g-head.”

The radio snail falls silent, paper rustling coming from the other side.

“A device flying across the Grand Line? Clown, they’re scamming you.”

“No scam, sir.” Romi joins in, her voice stone cold. “I’ve been working on The Drifter for years. I'm Romi Hodges, mechanical engineer and…former Labophase trainee.”

“I see.” The Den Den sneers. “Well, Miss Hodges, would you be so kind as to follow the Yonko on his island? I'd like a word.”

“Nice try!” Buggy pushes Romi away “I'm the one who does the talking here, all you have to do is sign the contract.”

Then, slapping the slug shell vigorously, the pirate hangs up.

When the radio rings again, the computers all around it wake up, papers falling on the ground, spitted out of a beeping printer.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this.” Crocodile growls “Miss Engineer, you sure of your numbers? They seem over-optimistic, to say the least.”

“Enough with the boring stuff, we’re gonna own the Grand Line!” Buggy shouts enthusiastically. “Not even celestial assholes can touch us, it’s all legal!"

“Needless to say, clown, that your interest will be sky high, this time. You're not fooling me twice.”

“Oh, c'mon Crocky, help a friend out.”

“And I expect my share, first day of each month.”

“Ugh, deal. But I'm staying here on the Egghead ship.”

“That’s the funniest joke I've heard from you.”

“I mean it. Tell Galdino to make a wax dummy or something, no one will even notice.”

“You out of your fucking mind? Bug-”

The pirate hangs up again, a nervous smile on his face. “Hey, navigator. Back to the Belts, quick.”

At Romi's light touch, the man adjusts his headphones and rapidly types his commands on a keyboard.

“Thanks, JoyJoey. And apologies for the loudness.”

The Captain gently pats the man's shoulder as she reaches for a lever switch.

When the cockpit’s doors slide open, the upset faces of the rest of the crew startles her.

“What have you done!” Meg cries out. “Dealing with the Cross Guild?!”

“Crew, lunchroom meeting in five.” The Captain states.

“They will eat us and spit us out!”

“Enough with the shouting in here. Go, it's an order.”

The whole crew reaches their meeting point, no words uttered but dirty looks speaking volumes.

Sinking back into a chair, Meg breaks the silence first:

“Let me get this straight, Romi: a pirate comes along suggesting we join his pirate alliance and you accept without flinching. So much for years of laying low!”

The woman inhales deeply, rubbing her glasses against her shirt.

“It was a tough call, actually: two weeks ago, we used our last savings. I've been racking my brain these days, trying to find a way to spare you the bad news.”

“Romi, we're in this together.” Allen says softly

“And then food supplies were running out too!” the Captain continues. “Having extra people on board, never touching land…it blew up my forecasts.”

She puts her glasses on again.

“Abandoning the Drifter is not an option, nor is it to let my mates starve. If I'll have to deal with pirates to keep us going, so be it. I take full responsibility.”

Buggy's hand floats around the room, handing Meg a bunch of paper sheets.

“There. Read it yourself.” the pirate says “And have a little trust in your captain's big brains.”

The Challengers take a seat around the table and immerse themselves in the reading. They all discuss the fine lines under Romi's attentive glaze, asking questions and passing the papers around.

Ava is trying her best to conceal a huge smile that’s been stretching her cheeks since leaving the cockpit. She gets up first, lost in thoughts.

“At the end of the day, I’d be mixed up with Cross Guild anyway.”

The woman moves next to Buggy, nudging him playfully with her shoulder.

“Still here? Your men must be soaking their facepaint in tears.”

“Someone insisted I go back to crafting but…no labs in Karai Bari.” the jester winks.

Eventually, papers and numbers are replaced by food and drink on the dinner table, printed sheets crowded in a corner far from the plates.

“By the way.”

Buggy is pointing his fork to the crew, his mouth full: “You think nobody would notice a fucking rocket flying over their heads? Everyone in the Grand Line will want a piece of that cake.”

Romi nods vigorously “Damn right. The Navy will knock on our door no doubt, and y’all know they don't ask nicely.”

“Say no more. To Captain Hodges.”

Meg makes a toast with a bittersweet smile and everyone raises their glasses.

“To Captain Hodges!”

As the tension of that morning gradually melts away, everyone’s thinking about the upcoming projects and how to spend their future money.

Romi's sitting between Buggy and Ava, a glass of ale dangling from her fingers.

“We better make the Drifter fly asap.” She clincks her glass against theirs.

“Ava, how about you move into my room now? You’d have my data archives at hand while Mr. President here gets his private quarters.”

The blonde stares at Romi for a hot minute before stuttering an answer.

“It seems…uhm…convenient.”

Buggy clicks his tongue.

“Bad idea. This one will annoy you in the middle of the night with the most random questions.”

“Come again?” Ava smirks, leaning forward on the table.

“Terrible roommate.” The pirate continues “A ruthless hair brush thief who only leaves chaos and destruction behind her. I'll spare you this horror, Captain.”

He mimics a toast before chugging his ale.

Romi takes a sip and rolls her eyes.

“Whatever guys, nevermind.” she mumbles, her words echoing inside the glass.

That morning, the crew rallies inside lab 01.

Romi paces back and forth in front of her mates, rehearsing aloud every detail of what is about to happen. Her eyes shine in anticipation and excitement, her heart pounding in her chest: it’s test day.

“Everyone in position. Get the data collectors going. Jester, the floor is yours.”

On a large platform, the Drifter lies dormant. Buggy approaches the vehicle, placing a metal box on the ground; he snaps it open and digs his hands into some soft material.

A transparent sphere comes out with a bold ‘x’ painted on its surface; a glowing, dense liquid sloshing inside as the ball moves.

“Let's put this baby to use.” the pirate grins. “This time it's gonna work.”

“Six time’s the charm.” Ava chuckles, while keeping the Drifter’s tank open for him.

As soon as the glowing sphere rolls into the vehicle, Romi saddles up and starts the ignition sequence.

A low grumble comes from the thrusters and the dashboard animates under her fingers.

Goosebumps all over, she observes the front hollow wheel drawing a shiny ring of light. One high-pitched hiss and the Drifter gets off the ground.

"Woohoo!"

Romi cheers loudly while the crew’s excitement grows by the minute.

She fumbles with the commands and steers the vehicle towards the exit, its engines revving full force.

Everything is going exactly as planned when a sudden, scorching heat wave reaches the woman's back, followed by the unmistakable sound of an explosion. Panic spreads as black smoke fills the room.

"Goddamnit!" Allen shouts “Is everyone ok?”

The doctor grabs his medical kit and runs to the rest of the crew, his ears ringing painfully.

He reaches the Captain first: bent over on the floor, she's punching her tights, tears down her furious face. She’s screaming, out of control.

"Breathing is ok. Motility looks fine.” Allen rattles off the essential checks as fast as he can.

“Doc, help!”

He jumps on the platform, following the jester's shrieks.

The pirate has not one scratch on him but Ava, on the other hand, is resisting the Drifter’s weight, her face covered in blood.

Buggy and Torres are trying to lift the wrecked vehicle away from her, but she’s holding on to it, shouting into the smoke:

“Romi it's ok! We'll fix it!”

“Let go, idiot!”

Buggy is shoving Ava away when the Drifter's bulk in his arms suddenly feels heavier.

“Torres, what the fuck you're doing?”

“No, no, no, no…” The man mumbles, his amber eyes fixed on Ava's face.

“Don't you dare drop it!” the woman shouts

“Y-your face!”

“It's nothing, I'm fine!”

“I need to throw up…”

“You were in the Navy, for god's sake!”

“And why do you think they made him a sniper?” Meg snarls, helping them lay down the Drifter slowly.

As the dense fog begins to dissipate, the doctor lets Torres run away, focusing on the others.

“Romi was lucky. Just bruises and a nasty headache.” His tone is reassuring. “This young lady, on the other hand…”

“Ouch!”

The second he touches Ava’s face she cries out on top of her lungs. Her nose is getting swollen and black, cheeks and chin covered in blood.

Allen opens his kit and cleans her face while Buggy moves frantically around him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” He whines, peeking out from the doctor’s shoulders.

His floating hands hold Ava still as a metal strip gets applied on her bended nose.

“This will do for now.” the doctor smiles. “Wait a little for the painkillers to kick in then go get some rest. I'll check on you in a couple of hours.”

Allen gathers his tools and reaches Meg, who's carrying a miserable Romi on her back.

With the doctor's assistance, the three of them leave what's left of lab 01.

Watching the sad spectacle, Buggy reaches for two desk chairs then turns them upright.

“Come sitting.” He orders in a flat voice.

“I'm good.”

“Doc said you need to rest. Sit.”

Ava throws herself into a chair, puffing. “How about we use the purple paste instead? Like, a tiny crumble.”

“That’s a great idea… if you want to send your nose on the fucking moon.”

Buggy sits in front of her and falls silent for a bit. “I really thought it would have worked this time, you know.”.

“We’re almost there: it’s just a matter of fine-tuning, at this point.”

“It blew up in our faces, Ava! I’m out of my league, I'm afraid.”

“Well, so is Romi with her Drifter and, frankly, so am I when I get my hand on any cable in here. We’re all learning as we go.”

“How romantic. Sadly, Croc’s breathing down my neck kinda ruins the vibe.”

“Oh, forget about that buttface: one day we'll build a gigantic robot and seize his gold! ” Ava giggles “It will destroy him! While spitting fire.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Buggy leans forward, laughing.

“We'll name it RingMaster, Mark One!” the woman continues, chasing the jester's chuckles as the bad mood seems to leave him.

In the middle of that rambling, though, her smile fades away.

Those clear eyes, his childish grin…Ava finds herself weak, once again.

“It must be the adrenaline. The painkillers, probably.” She thinks, as tingles start running under her skin.

Squinting, Buggy takes some time to inspect the dark metal strip on the blond’s nose.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

She feels her cheek burning as her gaze tumbles down to his chin.

“I feel nothing. Just a bit light headed.”

“Friggin’ Egghead stuff.”

A slight tilt of her head and a kiss lands on Buggy's lips. A long shy kiss, followed by another peck, and then another.

The jester is stunned: Ava's skin smells too good, her lips, her hands on his jaw, too soft, too inviting. Suddenly overwhelmed, he does not move a muscle.

“Lord, no.” His heart is pounding out of control, dark thoughts crowding in his mind.

“Please, make her stop.” Buggy falls into pure panic. “It had to be fake! She swore to part ways!”

The vivid image of Croc and Hawk laughing flashes before his eyes, he could almost hear them: “you should thank us, clown.” And Ava, clinging to his arm with her shiny wedding band. He'll be stuck with her, forever.

As Buggy snaps out of his visions, he pushes the woman away. She stands up, distraught, her big green eyes darting left and right. “I…I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me.” She whispers in a shaky voice. Lowering her head, Ava dashes out of the room.

Buggy’s head pops off, falling into his hands. “Shit!” He shrieks “Shit! What was that?!”

Hoping to calm his inner chaos, he runs hiding in the chemistry lab for the rest of the day.

It’s been dark for a while when he eventually takes courage and heads back to his room.

“You go straight in there as if today never happened.” The man rehearses. “No kaboom, no smooches, nothing. Just good ol’ chatting.”

As he opens the bedroom’s doors, Buggy sighs in relief. Ava seems to be…not there.

He takes off his clothes and paint, hurrying under the shower, planning to be asleep before his roommate comes back.

The jester dives on his pillow and shuts his eyes: ears pricking up, he expects the sound of her steps at any moment.

Buggy waits for hours on end, wakeful, but no one comes in that night. Staring into the dark, he feels his heart sink.

[fincrif]

How to Identify Fake Personal Loan Offers?

Introduction

In today's digital world, applying for a personal loan has become easier than ever. However, with this convenience comes the risk of fraudulent loan offers. Scammers use deceptive tactics to trick borrowers into providing personal information or making upfront payments, leading to financial loss.

Knowing how to identify fake personal loan offers can help you protect yourself from fraud and ensure a safe borrowing experience. In this guide, we will explore the warning signs of fake loan offers, how scammers operate, and the steps you can take to verify legitimate lenders.

1. Common Red Flags of Fake Personal Loan Offers

Fraudulent lenders often use aggressive marketing techniques and unrealistic promises to lure borrowers. Here are some common red flags:

1.1 Guaranteed Loan Approval Without Eligibility Check

Legitimate lenders evaluate your credit score, income, and financial history before approving a personal loan. If a lender promises approval without verifying your details, it is likely a scam.

1.2 Requests for Upfront Payments

A genuine lender does not ask for processing fees, insurance costs, or security deposits before disbursing a personal loan. If you are required to make an advance payment, it is a major warning sign.

1.3 Unrealistically Low Interest Rates

If a lender offers interest rates that are significantly lower than market standards, it could be a trap. Always compare rates with trusted lenders like:

IDFC First Bank Personal Loan

Bajaj Finserv Personal Loan

Tata Capital Personal Loan

Axis Finance Personal Loan

Axis Bank Personal Loan

InCred Personal Loan

1.4 No Physical Office or Contact Information

Legitimate lenders have physical offices, customer service helplines, and official websites. Fake lenders often operate without verifiable contact details.

1.5 Unsolicited Loan Offers via Email or WhatsApp

Scammers frequently send messages claiming pre-approved personal loans with high limits. Avoid clicking on suspicious links or sharing personal details through unverified sources.

2. How to Verify a Personal Loan Lender

Before applying for a personal loan, follow these steps to confirm the lender’s legitimacy:

2.1 Check RBI and NBFC Registration

Ensure that the lender is registered with the Reserve Bank of India (RBI) or operates as a recognized Non-Banking Financial Company (NBFC).

2.2 Visit the Official Website

Legitimate lenders have professional websites with complete information about loan terms, interest rates, and customer service support.

2.3 Read Customer Reviews

Search for reviews on Google, Trustpilot, or social media platforms to learn about other borrowers’ experiences.

2.4 Verify Loan Agreement Documents

Always request official loan documents and review the terms and conditions carefully before signing any agreement.

3. Steps to Take If You Encounter a Fake Loan Offer

If you suspect a personal loan scam, take these immediate actions:

Do Not Share Personal Information – Avoid providing sensitive details like Aadhaar, PAN, or bank account numbers.

Report to Cyber Crime Authorities – File a complaint with the National Cyber Crime Portal (https://cybercrime.gov.in/) or your local police station.

Block and Report the Contact – If you receive fraudulent calls or messages, block the number and report it to your telecom provider.

Warn Others – Share your experience with family and friends to prevent them from falling victim to scams.

Conclusion

While a personal loan can be a great financial solution, being cautious about scams is crucial. By recognizing red flags, verifying lenders, and taking preventive steps, you can avoid fraud and ensure a safe borrowing experience. Always choose reputable financial institutions and trusted lenders for your personal loan needs.

For secure and reliable loan options, visit Fincrif and explore trusted lenders that offer genuine personal loan solutions.

[citizens-reversemortgages]

What is the Biggest Problem with a Reverse Mortgage?

Reverse mortgages sound like a golden ticket for senior homeowners—no monthly payments, access to home equity, and financial breathing room in retirement. But what’s the catch? You’ve probably heard mixed opinions, and honestly, they’re not wrong. A reverse mortgage can be a smart financial tool, but it’s not for everyone.

So, what’s the biggest problem? The short answer: it’s often misunderstood. Many people don’t fully grasp how it works, what it costs, and how it affects their long-term financial security. And when there’s confusion, there’s risk. Let’s break it all down, no fluff, just the facts.

The Growing Debt Problem

With a traditional mortgage, every payment chips away at what you owe. With a reverse mortgage, it’s the opposite. You’re not paying anything, but interest is constantly adding up—which means your loan balance grows over time instead of shrinking.

For some, this is perfectly fine. If your goal is to stay in your home and use its value while you’re alive, great. But if you plan on leaving your home to your kids or selling it later, that growing debt can eat away at your equity fast.

Think of it like this: Imagine filling a bathtub with water (your home’s value). With a regular mortgage, you’re slowly draining the tub by paying off what you owe. But with a reverse mortgage? The faucet is running, filling up with interest charges—and there’s no drain.

The Costs Can Be Steep 

Reverse mortgages aren’t free money. In fact, they come with fees that can surprise people. Some of the costs you might not expect include:

Origination fees – Lenders charge you for setting up the loan, often thousands of dollars.

Mortgage insurance premiums – This protects the lender, not you, and it’s mandatory.

Servicing fees – Lenders charge these for managing your loan over time.

Interest rates – They can be higher than regular home loans, meaning you’ll owe more, faster.

And here’s a big one: you still have to pay property taxes, homeowner’s insurance, and maintenance. If you fall behind, you could lose your home—something that catches many borrowers off guard.

Your Heirs Might Be Left With a Mess

If leaving your home to your kids is important to you, a reverse mortgage can complicate things. Once you pass away (or permanently move out), the loan becomes due immediately.

Your heirs typically have three choices:

Pay off the loan (which might mean refinancing or using their own money).

Sell the home to cover what’s owed (hoping it’s worth more than the debt).

Hand the home over to the lender (if the loan balance exceeds the home’s value).

For families who aren’t expecting this, it can be a stressful situation. Imagine thinking you’ll inherit a house, only to find out there’s little to no equity left—or worse, you have to scramble to figure out what to do next.

Moving Out (Even Temporarily) Can Trigger Foreclosure

One of the biggest misconceptions is that a reverse mortgage lets you live in your home no matter what. That’s not entirely true.

The loan terms require you to live in your home as your primary residence. If you:

Move into a nursing home

Spend extended time with family

Need long-term care elsewhere

…the lender can call the loan due immediately. That means you (or your family) might have to sell the house fast or risk foreclosure.

This is a huge issue for seniors facing health challenges. If you’re getting a reverse mortgage, you need a backup plan for what happens if you can’t stay in the home long-term.

Scams and Predatory Lenders Are a Real Threat

Because reverse mortgages target older homeowners, they’re a magnet for scammers and shady sales tactics. Some warning signs include:

High-pressure sales – If someone is rushing you to sign, walk away.

Promises that seem “too good to be true” – They probably are.

Unsolicited offers – If someone calls or knocks on your door offering a “special program,” be skeptical.

Encouraging you to take a loan you don’t need – Some lenders push reverse mortgages even when they’re not the best option.

This is why working with a reputable lender—like Citizens Lending Group—is critical. They’ll walk you through the details honestly, without pressure. If someone’s making you feel rushed or confused, that’s a red flag.

Is a Reverse Mortgage a Bad Idea?

Not necessarily. For some homeowners, it’s a lifeline that provides financial freedom in retirement. But for others, it can be a costly mistake.

Here’s how to decide if it makes sense for you:

Do you plan to stay in your home for the long haul? A reverse mortgage works best if you’re not planning to move.

Are you OK with your loan balance growing over time? If you’re comfortable with the trade-off, it could be a solid option.

Do you have a plan for property taxes, insurance, and upkeep? Falling behind could put your home at risk.

Have you talked with your family about the impact? If your heirs expect to inherit the home, they need to understand the loan terms.

Are you working with a trusted lender? Not all lenders are created equal—make sure you’re working with one that puts your interests first.

Talk to a Trusted Reverse Mortgage Expert

Still not sure if a reverse mortgage is right for you? That’s completely understandable. It’s a big decision with long-term consequences.

At Citizens Lending Group, we take the time to answer your questions, explain your options, and make sure you’re fully informed before making any commitments.

Call us today at (866) 539-5119 to discuss whether a reverse mortgage is the right fit for your situation. No pressure—just honest, straightforward advice.

[queersouthasian]

Jack&Joker - U steal my heart!

One of the most popular Thai BL cps, Yinwar, are back with a heist themed BL after a long hiatus since Love mechanics.

*taps mic*

I refuse to spiral into insanity all by myself, so here is a thread of theories or rather poorly made assumptions regarding the characters and plot.

#1 Joker and Lupin

You know what Joker reminds me of, or rather who? Arséne Lupin.

Arséne Lupin AKA the 'Gentleman Burglar' is a French fictional book character,

There is a French live action drama on Netflix called 'Lupin' where a guy named Assane Diop, a long standing fan of the books, imitates Lupin to avenge his father's death.

Now, why am I mentioning Lupin out of nowhere? I remember binge watching the live action and wishing that one day we would have a BL with a similiar theme. The BL gods heard me lol. Joker, seems to be very similiar to Lupin/Assane. He is cocky, witty, bitchy, sassy and chaotically evil yet cares and loves beyond one may speculate.

And If Joker is our queer Lupin,

Tattoo is our Benjamin,

Benjamin used to replicate intricately made precious jewels/jwelery which helped Assane to rob the original and replace with the cloned item which looked indifferent to the human eye.

If that's that, if tattoo makes shit which gets used during heists, then maybe he was the one to create the gas which puts everyone to sleep. Literally anyone can argue that it could have been chloroform, something that's easy to access. BUT, considering the amount of 'chloroform' which flowed through the ventilators, people would have been dead. Atleast Anan. That shit results in muscle breakdown and can put people in coma.

And if we have the Assane, the benjamin, do we also have the Ganimard?

#2 Cards and Ganimard

Cards play an important role in the world of Joker, it's everywhere,

In his description

on the loan papers

It's his signature, of course.

But you know who else has a card related description?

Yes

Jack has what we call the "ace of spades"...

Now this is where this gets interesting,

If the joker is the 'harlequin' which symbolises chaos, unpredictability, wit and intelligence; who exactly what Joker is, The Lupin, then Jack is THE ace of spades, which symbolises intellectual power or spiritual growth BUT carry the reputation of being the 'Death Card' popularised during the Vietnam War. It's a die or domino with a single pip.

And If Jack is the 'ace', he can be the queer Ganimard,

This makes me think, either Jack will be the hindrance or guidance, maybe both.

It could be that, the only history Jack and Joker share is Jack getting conned by joker. IF joker did scam Jack on the 'superhuman project' which was assumbly his dream project yet Jack helps him, then he can be called inhumanely loyal and hopelessly in love.

"You are still kind and haven't changed"

And if Jack can cooperate with Joker so well (the whole fight scene against the guards), he would be the only one to know how Joker works or atleast have an idea. And If that's what it is, he would either directly join the heist by pretending to stop it and Joker, or he is actually going to do it 'cause, he is the "death card"

He is either with you, or against you.

The vibe till now seem very contrasting to Partners in Crime, while the later was more like a social commentry where two lovers rob the exploited, the rich. But this one is more like a cold witty thief who finds an extremely loyal admirer and falls for him BUT this could turn into a love story with betrayal. This show either is going to be chill, cool and quirky and little bit angsty OR extremely twisted and angsty. Let's see.

[rivetgoth]

Tbh on the topic of college, I am always gonna be thee biggest proponent of community college as a pathway to higher education for those who desire it. It’s such a scam that it’s not talked about more often and the vehement classism associated with it is just wild. I was an extremely mentally unwell teenager whose grades tanked in the latter half of high school, I switched schools and still struggled, and then graduated at age 17… I don’t necessarily think I could’ve gotten into any kind ov “dream school” right out of hs nor would I have been ready to, but going the community college route meant I was able to pay out of pocket for the first 2.5 years of school, I was able to take my classes slowly and experiment around with what I liked without it literally putting me in debt for the rest of my life, I had the time to start participating in clubs, get a job and start saving money, got my associates for transfer, AND I didn’t have to take a single standardized test to get into my dream university :) I left community college with a 3.9 GPA, a scholarship, a full resume, off to my dream city…

It genuinely feels sickening to me how much it’s looked down on as an option. About a fourth of UCLA students are transfers but the stigma against transfer students and community college was massive. I genuinely enjoyed my time at UCLA but the absolute worst part of the experience was the way people talked about community college. So many UCLA students were spoiled rich kids who were paying their way through like $50k tuition and recoiled in horror at the thought of needing to take out a loan. On “transfer day” (special event for newly admitted transfers to come explore the campus for the first time, get info about the program, meet and greet with faculty, clubs and job fair, etc) the speaker gave a whole speech like “People may judge transfer students but we support you and we know the stereotypes aren’t true!” and having never been to a 4 year before I was like… huh? But it was SO BAD dude. I remember having coworkers at the campus tutoring job I worked make comments about how “they could always tell if a paper was written by a transfer student.” I’d be like What do you mean? and they’d go on about how Oh well you know, transfer students just don’t know what they’re doing, their writing is less skillful, they aren’t as experienced… and I’d be like Well I’m a transfer and they’d IMMEDIATELY back down like “oh I don’t mean people like you though.” One of my professors gave a whole speech in the first quarter I was there after our midterm like “Now I know it’s the fall quarter and there may be some new transfers here and this is probably the first midterm you’ve had on a four year university campus, if your grade isn’t what you expected DON’T feel bad, it’s a learning experience and many transfers don’t understand the rigor it takes to get high marks here…” I GOT 100% DUDE!! Not just on the paper but I had one of the highest final grades in the class, so high that my prof actually waived the final paper for me and a small group of other students with the highest marks in the class LOL!! Stuff like this happened alllll the time. I can remember like so many little instances of someone talking about how community college and transfer students themselves just Weren’t As Good, capable, smart, etc as traditional students.

I graduated UCLA with a 3.8 GPA, so my GPA went down by .1 point between community college and four year university. While saving tens of thousands of dollars lol. I don’t really feel like I struggled particularly hard at all, I didn’t feel unprepared, and I honestly enjoyed socializing with my community college peers more than my UCLA peers. I felt a lot of solidarity with all of the transfer students I met in my classes and while working, even the ones struggling more than me. At my tutoring job when I was working with a student who mentioned they were a transfer and I told them I was too their eyes would light up! It was genuinely a really nice connection. But it blows my mind that it was partially formed out of this almost necessary solidarity via the weird fucking way people viewed it. I feel like community college was a huge part of where I started to turn my life around and get my shit together. It was not perfect but it gave me opportunities I never would’ve had otherwise. It’s very obviously classism and it’s very obviously just blatantly false—The whole idea that you’re “less prepared” for college by GOING TO COLLEGE than being a fresh-out-of-high-school 18 year old who took a couple [expensive] multiple choice tests administered by third party organizations is insane. And aside from the classism element the obvious trickle down financial benefit the schools have in pushing four year university is just so nefarious. Like the money being given to the College Board (AP and SAT), ACT, Pearson, etc not to mention the universities themselves… The school district here literally has to keep track of how many 12th graders go off to 4 year universities for funding purposes, community college isn’t even considered, so there is financial gain on all sides in pushing students to rush into life altering decisions that could cost them tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of dollars and push themselves far beyond their limits for no fucking reason and to no benefit to them. Gah I could rant about this forever but omg. If I have any freshly-graduated or about-to-graduate people following me or anyone considering going back to school after taking a break please please consider community college and fuck the haters for real.

[alyjojo]

February ❤️‍🔥 2025 Monthly - Virgo

Preshuffle: Heavy financial, losing money that’s unexpected or not accounted for could put you in a major bind - 10 Wands. Could also be something you missed showing up on a credit report, you didn’t even know about it!

Meditation: You, sitting under an apple 🍎 tree and one falls on your head. You’re like “Eureka! Gravity!” Then several more fall on your head and you’re like “alright OW, I got it!” Like someone or something is hassling you.

Main Energy: King of Pentacles rev

I’m getting a super snide energy from someone, could be you, being Pentacles that’s showing up. Either someone is greedy and materialistic or they’re a workaholic and…still materialistic but there’s a tit for tat kind of vibe coming through. Someone feels ignored for a long time and another person doesn’t try to do anything with them or come around, and the person ignoring them is like…wtf, they genuinely don’t get it. You haven’t seen them in a year but they expect something from you idk. Because Gift is at the bottom, this could be regarding Valentine’s Day or maybe a birthday, some gift kind of day. One person has been busy ignoring the other for ages, why would you/they come around now? There’s no effort to heal a connection if that’s what this is. I’m also seeing unwarranted input like…no one asked or cares, could be why they’re ignored. Or switch it. It’s a dead stop though.

Could also be someone doesn’t have money and that’s why they’re overworking, again debts and financial chaos is coming through, could be you, and it could be these issues that have been ignored. Maybe for a long time with Wheel of Fortune, whether you knew or not, that years old charge for a something could bite you in the butt if it’s not handled soon. The Chariot rev could be ignored car problems you can’t afford or 7 Cups clarifying can show multiple things. You’d been charging the credit card like a madman thinking you didn’t have to pay it? Or how much interest would be tacked on, finances is the strongest vibe here. I’m also seeing something that you thought would go up actually going down, maybe considerably, and I’m seeing stocks plummet. Someone invests or “dabbles.” Could be multiple things or everything just hitting you at one time. If you’ve ignored someone they’re pissed they feel like an option not a priority, or you do. Or if you’re dating someone and don’t have money to go hard for Valentines, they could be offended because you work 24/7 so where has all the money gone? It’s snide though, not an understanding or caring sort of energy.

Wheel of Fortune with The Tower yeesh. There will be consequences for whatever this is, if you don’t pay your bills it’s going to bill collectors or something. There’s a “too late” kind of vibe with this, like there’s been ample opportunity that’s been ignored. Now you’re stuck with it, Nightmare and Live & Learn. It’s a lesson for sure, and it’s halting your movement forward in the way you want to go. It could be you actually know exactly what you want and go out to get it when you get the news you’re being denied the loan because of xyz…then you’re pissed. Should’ve paid that thing, now you’re missing out on this other thing you want. Something to that effect, it feels material. Needing to buy a car maybe? And you can’t get approved for something. Someone has filed for bankruptcy possibly. I don’t see disasters with The Tower, could be, but it feels more like shocking news you didn’t expect that changes your goals by force.

Did someone else put some shit in your name and then not pay it? Could be that, there’s an emotional reaction or upset, freaking out, feeling manipulated or lied to possibly. You could’ve signed up for something that was like $9.99 the first month and now they’re taking $100 and you didn’t read the fine print. Chaos! You feel scammed and bamboozled. Be careful of people out for your money or ick salespeople, that’s a warning for someone if you haven’t already signed on the dotted line. Some of you have. If it’s a relationship, overworking or a greedy materialistic mentality feels manipulative or on purpose to someone else who is acting out emotionally - they probably have their feelings hurt. You or them. There is sadness, disappointments, and regrets at the bottom. It could be someone trying to get this kind of reaction on purpose as well, again with the snide childish shit, I keep seeing 5 Swords at the bottom. Tit for tat. You did this so I’m gonna do that and prove a point, are they five? Five year olds do that.

Some of you are having to hold off on a dream due to finances and working off some debts because there’s nothing else you can do. If it’s in your name it’s your problem for someone, even if someone else did it. If a connection, someone’s shitty energy halts any kind of healing or positive progress because there’s no excuse for it. Live & Learn. 10 Wands shows burden that’s just unnecessary or unaccounted for. You wanted to buy this thing and instead have to put it off, you don’t have a choice. Someone’s judgy energy is unwarranted and uncalled for in some case. It looks like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place financially - but it’s temporary 🙏 


Signs you may be dealing with:

Taurus, Sagittarius, Scorpio & Cancer

Oracle: ✨

Nightmare 😱

Live & Learn 📖

Gift 🎁

We enter into February as:

The Emerald Stone 🧩

“The heart knows what the eyes cannot see.”

There are times when things happen to us and no explanation is possible. Often our journey brings us full circle, leaving many of us to wonder why. The Emerald Stone is inviting you to follow through in whatever is before you. Going back is not an option. Forward movement will change your entire perspective on life - for the better. You may now be able to hear something that you have been told many times. Your reward will be a closer relationship with yourself. If Emerald Stone sparkles for you, it is with the understanding that you are now developing a new perception of things. The Stone welcomes you out of the dark and into your heart.

What is to be learned in February:

Wolf of White Light 🌙

“There is a guide inside of us.”

Wolf of White Light comes to remind you that you must use your instinct, for it is what protects you. You are more aware of this than you realize. Your instinct is finely tuned and accurate, so why doubt it? He reminds us that focusing on past injustices will not prepare us for the present. Wolf of White Light warns that time spent in the past also leaves you defenseless in the future. Letting go of the old is signified, for if you do not, you may miss the opportunities that Spirit has planned for you. Wolf is the spirit guide that comes to lead you up the mountain you are about to climb. He only appears to those seeking a guide. Allow him to guide you, and follow your instincts. Remember that when the Wolf appears, it’s time to move on. He is a reminder that your journey is guided. With your eyes focused forward, the Wolf is waiting in the distance for you. Now is the time.

White may be a lucky color 🤍