#if they have visas of some sort there's no need to hide

[beardedmrbean]

Springfield, Ohio, was thrust into the national spotlight this election cycle due to the vast number of Haitian migrants who had settled in the town over the last few years, but some of those migrants have already packed their bags and left in the wake of President-elect Trump’s sweeping win.

The town, which according to the 2020 census has under 60,000 residents, has struggled to cater to a population boom between 15,000 to 20,000 Haitian migrants following decades of population decline. Residents have complained that the uncontrolled influx has drained resources and services, made the town less safe, driven up rents and caused longer wait times for medical and social services.

Locals have especially expressed frustrations over road safety, arguing that immigrants who have no to little experience driving in their home countries have been allowed to take to the streets with ease, causing a dangerous situation on the roads.

Many of those migrants had settled in the community having attained the ability to live and work in the U.S. for a limited time thanks to temporary protected status (TPS) but President-elect Trump signaled on the campaign trail he would yank such permits, striking fear into the migrants, some of whom have already fled the town ahead of Trump’s return to office. 

"People are leaving," Margery Koveleski, of the Haitian Community Alliance (HCA), tells the Guardian.

"Some folks don’t have credit cards or access to the internet, and they want to buy a bus ticket or a plane ticket, so we help them book a flight."

Jacob Payen, a co-founder of the HCA who also runs a business that includes helping Haitians in Springfield to file tax returns, also told the publication that migrants have been leaving.

"People are fully aware of the election result, and that is why they are leaving; they are afraid of a mass deportation," Payen said. 

"Several of my customers have left. One guy with his family went to New Jersey; others have gone to Boston. I know three families that have gone to Canada."

Some of the Haitian migrants are thought to have moved to nearby cities such as Dayton, where they believe they would be less visible to law enforcement, while others who had temporary asylum in Brazil are considering going back to the South American country, per the Guardian, citing community leaders.

Migrants have been fleeing their home nation since it was plunged into a political crisis in 2018 with protests sweeping the island it shares with the Dominican Republic. Gang violence has exploded in the country and a transitionary council removed Haitian Prime Minister Garry Conille from office earlier this month, replacing him in the role after just six months.

Springfield became a flashpoint in the presidential election when both President-elect Trump and Vice-President elect JD Vance claimed that Haitian migrants were eating pets there.  

"They're eating the dogs, the people that came in, they're eating the cats," Trump said on the debate stage against Vice-President Harris. "They're eating the pets of the people that live there, and this is what's happening in our country, and it's a shame."

Trump has also vowed to carry out the largest deportation operation in the history of the U.S. and has appointed hardliner South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem to serve as secretary of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) while Tom Homan will be the new "Border Czar." 

The DHS oversees U.S. Customs and Border Protection, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the U.S. Secret Service and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). Noem will also oversee TPS and has deployed the state National Guard to the southern border several times in recent years.

Payen believes that droves of Haitian migrants leaving the town will have a detrimental impact on the local economy and in other states. 

The Guardian reports that the Haitian migrants filled thousands of jobs at area packaging and auto plants, which have helped rejuvenate the area, while Haitian restaurants regularly source food from other states.

"I pay thousands of dollars in income and property taxes every year," Payen told the outlet. "And – because I work with Haitians to file their taxes – I see their W-2s and so on. If these people leave, that money is gone from the city and the local economy."

[gremlingottoosilly]

in if you need to be mean, would the reader ever try to escape? and if she did, how would konig react? thinking about like, she planned for a few months how would she escape him, and she feels very conflicted bc she loves him, but she wants freedom and thats the only thing konig would never give her. so when hes away she takes the car and just goes. i dont know where, but shes so desperate te be free again to do whatever she likes without him hovering and always by her side trying to control what she does! would he feel sad? would he be devastated? would he go after her? i know that theres like a 1% chance of it happening but im so curious about how he would react and how it would change their relationship.

anyway, love your fanfics gremlin you're a genius!!! 🫶

Konig made everything in his power to prevent her from escaping without locking her up and breaking her legs, but it doesn't mean he won't do it.

He refuses to let her study German because he moved her to this foreign country without her knowing the language, and he specifically chose a distant tiny town in the middle of the Austrian woods, where not a lot of people know English and therefore, it would be hard for her to communicate. She doesn't have his car keys or a driver's license, he didn't leave her a lot of cash, so she forced to use his cards with updates of withdrawal and spending sent to his account, and she also just has a dependant visa that wouldn't allow her to do independent anyway. Her only way would be speaking to the police and hoping that they would start the investigation. It would be really hard because, well, Austria doesn't really care about immigrant's problems unless it's an international scandal, and Konig would know anyway - because he has cameras in the house, which he doesn't even hide, and if the investigation would die down, or his girl wouldn't go to the police, he wouldn't really break the contract and run to her immediately. He has quite a few friends around, especially if Krueger or Klaus are around and not on deployment with him, so he could ask them to go and visit his...wife. She is scared and a bit hysterical because of the foreign country, so she can tell weird things about kidnapping and escaping, they shouldn't listen to her! Konig won't be so nice when he returns. He really wanted to play this fantasy of having cute little housewife, nice house and a girl that is absolutely in love with him. He knows that you like him, at least, that you didn't want to escape, you're just silly! He infantilised you before, mostly because of the age difference, but it would be even harsher now. You are not allowed to leave the house, he often simply locks you in the bedroom so you won't have anything to do besides waiting for him to return with groceries and fuck you into the mattress. He didn't want to break you leg, but if you keep resisting, he might kinda push you a bit further. He would assign you a no-nonsense older caretaker so you would have company and help while your leg is broken! She also thinks that you have some sort of weird mental illness that made you paranoid and afraid of your husband, so you can't even get help from her. You can forget about going out while he is on deployment either. And he is very reluctant to let you out, even with him, the first few months after your attempted escape. The world is too dangerous for you anyway,

[kinnporsche]

hey guys, long time no kinn & porsche fic rec list! i miss these two so much it’s not even remotely funny. as always, this list is ordered according to length (from longest to shortest), and each fic is by a different author (to share the love)! all fics that are not yet complete have been marked with (wip). lastly, make sure to read the tags, and show the authors some love! god bless y’all for my daily allotment of serotonin.  [part 8/?]

— the empty crown by rainbowcolored7 – explicit / 117.2k words (wip)

Porsche was destined to rule his kingdom, but the throne and his family were taken from him, forcing him and his brother into hiding.

Kinn chose to rule to save his family from the untouchable threat of the Council who strictly guard the power of the Source.

When their worlds collide, everything changes. Hidden plans tumble into motion, enemies become allies and, above all, love conquers.

— you were there, written in my stars by bleakyblues – explicit / 81.5k words (wip)

Kinn is your everyday, ordinary guy. Well, as ordinary as the heir to the country’s underworld can be. But the point still stands. Kinn goes to school, helps his Pa with his work, hangs out with his friends and has a huge crush on his ‘good friend’ whom he is ‘not-dating’ (yet).

Enter Porsche Pachara Kittisawat with all the grace and stubbornness of a class five hurricane. And Kinn is lost, lost, lost... caught up in the winds never to emerge again.

— freedom is a sound/pleasure is a right ‘series by baby_droll – explicit / 31k words

Kinn stares at him, and then up at the ceiling, and then back at Porsche.

“Have you considered being professional even a day in your life,” he says, sitting back down in his desk chair and rolling away enough to get some space, “I mean really and truly, do you know what it looks like, barging into my office,” Porsche cuts him off, mouthing along to his spiel, mainly because he’s heard it before, “sitting on my desk, interrupting meetings, and acting like, Porsche, people are going to think things, things you and your shiny visa can’t afford to have them thinking. things that me and my giant internship program can’t afford for them to think—”

(Or: Kinn and Porsche meet, kiss, fall in love. Only one problem—Kinn is his PhD advisor, and there’s more than a few rules about them being together.)

— the bachelor by blue_grama – mature / 25.9k words

It’s Pete who explains, the next morning over breakfast, because of course the news has spread all over the compound. “Haven’t you ever watched a mob movie?” He asks Porsche, gesticulating with a spoon. “They have all the money they could ever need, but they can never get respectability. The old-money types look down on them. The new-money types take their bribes, but they don’t let them into the inner circle. This is public relations.”

“A kinder, gentler mob?” Porsche laughs. “Come on.”

“They’ll use it to look nonthreatening, highlight the legitimate businesses, that sort of thing,” Pete says. He lowers his voice. “Everyone knows the Theerapanyakuls are dirty, but if they’re on television, how dirty can they be, right? And… I don’t know, but Khun Korn is strange about Khun Kinn’s love life. Maybe he’s trying to keep him in line somehow.”

— i’m not a saint, but i pay like a sinner by haeseolar – explicit / 25.4k words

“I’m not sure how a lowly human like you called me, but here I am,” His voice is deep, but not gruff or harsh like he was expecting. Porsche doesn’t have many preconceptions about demons as a whole, but everything he holds is being completely turned upside down and thrown out the window.

“Who are you?” Porsche croaks out, somehow finding his voice.

The demon’s eyes sharpen as he speaks, the slitted black pupils contracting and opening again like a cat’s. It’s just as fascinating as it is unnerving.

“You’re the one that called my name,” He shrugs, gesturing around the room flippantly.

“Anakinn,” Porsche says, the name rolling off his tongue smoothly. “You’re Anakinn.”

— scale and bone by ahdriking – explicit / 25.2k words (wip)

Fairy tales aren’t real. There are no happy endings. These are the truths Kinn knows.

Ever since stepping into power, Kinn has been suspicious of the Russians—led by Mikhail Alexeyev—operating in Bangkok, suspecting them of stealing from him. He sends Kim to investigate, and the truth turns out to be much worse than his initial fears. He resolves to destroy them, even at the risk of all out war; he can do no less if he wants to avoid appearing weak.

It starts with reconnaissance at Alexeyev’s party, an event promising a ‘grand spectacle.’ Kinn is expecting something appropriately depraved, suitable for the Russian mobster and his tastes, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of what Alexeyev has been hiding. Nothing could have prepared him for the way it will change his life forever.

Because fairy tales aren’t real.

Until they are.

— moonchild (we’re born in the moonlight) by wicca – explicit / 24.1k words

“Let me walk you home, then,” Kinn offers, recalling the recent accidents and all the superstitions he’d heard about the forest ever since he was a boy. “Even if you live close by, these woods can get dangerous. You should always get home before nightfall.”

“Trust me,” Porsche smiles, teeth sharp and brown eyes glittering an almost golden hue under the late afternoon light. “I’ll be fine.”

He lets Kinn walk him home anyway.

— desire is so different when god bore you hungry ‘series by captainkit – explicit / 20.6k words

“Let’s get out of here,” whispered Kinn. His eyes were so very kind. Porsche wanted to keel over with the hunger gnawing at his bones. The kindness in his eyes made him ache a little more.

“Okay,” he whispered back.

Starvation was an old friend of Porsche’s.

— force of attraction by nuwildcat – explicit / 14.3k words

Gravity (noun): the universal force of attraction acting between all matter.

Porsche never was the best student in school. She’ll be the first to admit that hands on lessons were always the ones that best made things ‘stick’ for her.

Porsche isn’t certain she wants to know whatever lesson Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakul is trying to teach her. The problem is, resisting Kinn is like trying to stop a force of nature: impossible.

— if i go too far by p1n3appl3_p3n – explicit / 13.9k words

Kinn and Porsche are friends that fuck, and it’s totally fine until it isn’t.

— red-handed by martynax – explicit / 12.3k words

“Hello, gentlemen,” Porsche finally manages to find his voice and is proud of himself that he comes off as cool and collected. He doesn’t really feel like it, but as long as no one is pointing a gun at him, he can roll with whatever. He’s good at bullshitting his way out of tough situations. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The corner of the stranger’s mouth ticks up in amusement, eyes taking in Porsche’s silhouette. It’s a slow once-over that makes Porsche’s skin tingle.

The stranger takes a slow sip of the whiskey, tipping the glass elegantly and smacks his lips after he swallows. “It’s not bad.”

“Want a refill?” Porsche proposes, waving his hand at the almost empty tumbler while he slowly starts approaching the couch. He feels awkward just standing there. The two guys in black suits tense up, but make no move to stop him. Not giving his unwelcome guest time to answer, he adds, “I’ll do you one better, I make a mean cocktail. How about I make you one?”

“Such a kind host,” the man muses, titling his head as he observes Porsche. “Do your best, little thief.”

— all of me (is all for you) by kurtstiel – explicit / 10k words

The water has saturated Porsche’s white shirt completely, soaking through the vest beneath. The translucent material clings obscenely to the swell of his pecs. His nipples are clearly visible through the sheer material, hard and pebbled, with the unmistakable shape of the metal barbells pierced either side of them.

Porsche’s head jerks up to check if he can still hide them from Kinn, but it’s already too late. Kinn is standing across the room, staring in Porsche’s direction, entire body coiled tight like a spring.

(Or: While Kinn is away on a business trip, Porsche gets his nipples pierced as a surprise for their anniversary. Kinn comes home earlier than Porsche expected.) 

— whatever else that touches you by technicallyverycowboy – explicit / 9.4k words

“No, it’s fine.” Porsche shifts to be a little less plastered against Kinn’s side, straightens his shoulders and smooths out his jacket with great dignity. “The answer to your question is yes, I have really never been with any other men.”

(Or: Porsche answers questions, asks some of his own, tries new things, and fills in the knowledge gaps of his own sexuality.)

— i’ve been waiting for you, to slip back in bed by dearsidewalk – explicit / 5.5k words

Porsche is sound asleep on their bed, the cityscape casting a soft, warm glow against his skin, dipping and arching with his silhouette. Kinn sags, hands falling to his side, but that itch hasn’t faded—that heaviness in his chest, stomach, and throat multiplies, malignant and spreading, and in a blink of an eye, he’s at Porsche’s side.

— the sweetest thing on this side of hell by butterflylungs – explicit / 3.3k words

Being vulnerable with Kinn is always a dangerous game: she never knows when it’s going to be thrown in her face. After the forest, she thought—well. But Kinn had given her to Vegas, cold and stone-faced from her perch on the couch, still attached to an IV line after taking a fucking bullet for her.

[erinfern0]

I love your writing so much! ❤️ could you write dating arisu ryohei x reader? sfw and nsfw please! continue the great work!

★・・・・★・・・・★

universe: alice in borderland

warnings: nsfw

★・・・・★・・・・★

sfw

☆ your relationship started really slow, he was too shy to talk to you and you just enjoyed his awkwardness,

☆ arisu admired you from far for a while, especially when you talked with other people. he loves the way you smile and laugh, also how your gaze changes depending on who you talk to,

☆ he's not only your boyfriend, but also your best friend. he would spend all time in the world to listen to you talk, complain or vent whenever you want. he's a very good listener and always has some reassuring words for you,

☆ he introduced you to his friends as soon as you started dating, it felt like heaven when he noticed y'all get along pretty well,

☆ arisu makes sure you join group games together, he prefers to keep you close and safe, especially when your visa is about to expire,

☆ he loves physical touch, especially your hugs and cuddles, but won't ever ask for any if he's not sure you'll want the same thing,

☆ he's a good hugger, but gets very awkward when you try to tease him in the meantime,

☆ he also loves when you kiss him first, he always leans to your touch, let's you decide on the pace,

☆ arisu won't tell anyone if you don't want him to, your relationship will be as private as you want. if you don't care or want people to know, he will tell his friends first to show you that he doesn't want to hide either,

☆ sooner or later, you start to go out on dates, holding hands in public or even kiss when there's not too many people around,

☆ i believe he's also a type who loves some good old matching. doesn't matter if it's your shirts, socks or hand-made jewelry - he will proudly show people your together by having matching clothes/accessories with you,

☆ he adores it when you play with his hair, especially late night when you're both in bed and try to fall asleep after such a tough day,

☆ he can get really protective over you, maybe sometimes a bit too much. will make sure you eat, sleep and drink enough. also - if there's anyone bother you he will talk to them, fighting his anxiety into his pocket to protect you,

nsfw

☆ your first time wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be, actually, he was very calm, romantic and collected. he's a really passionate lover, will do anything for you.

☆ let's get this straight - he's a sub prefering switch, especially with you,

☆ he's new to being a dom, which makes him ask you many questions whenever he wants to impress you or just make you feel good,

☆ he won't ever start anything before asking for permission. many people think it's a huge mood killer, but asking for your consent seems to make him even more eager to touch you. he also will as you if it feels good or if you want to take a break every now and then,

☆ as a dom, he tries to learn new things about you, pushing you to the edge and enjoying you squirm under his touch,

☆ he doesn't really have rules for you to follow, he makes them up sometimes, so they meet your needs,

☆ if he has no ideas on what to do next, he will just close his eyes, caress your body and kiss your neck and chest, waiting for you to give him more instructions. he's a fast learner,

☆ when it comes to punishing you - he's not very creative and truly hates to make you upset. mostly he will just threaten you with a sort of punishment but will never actually do it. he punished you just once, which was more of a punishment for him, since he decided you can't touch each other for a whole week after he caught you masturbating without him once,

☆ most of the time when he is your sub, he behaves really well. no matter how much he wants it, he won't break any rules you give him, even will make some up just for you to use,

☆ what surprised you the most is that he loves edging. especially when you watch some movies or listen to music in your room, he will let you slide your hand under his pants and touch him for hours without letting him cum, just so he can take control later,

☆ sometimes he will sneak into your room, close the door and lean against it, giving you that specific, needy look in his eyes, that tells you I'm all yours. in that scenario you usually end up lying in your bed, pressing your bodies against each other while you moan, masturbating and showing each other what you like most,

☆ if you like to experiment, he's your man. he will try anything you throw at him just to find new ways to pleasure each other,

☆ arisu is a sucker for some good aftercare, especially if you can take care of each other. Mostly after sex you end up in a shower together, teasing even more and enjoying every second of the time you two have together.

[justenjoythegossip]

Immigration questions, truths, lies and speculation: a few random thoughts…

Use of her immigration status to discredit the wedding…

Abba’s legal status is a topic that has been brought up so much by Team PR blogs, especially to discredit the fact there was any marriage at all, that it’s interesting to ask ourselves why. Although I won’t pretend to answer any of those questions. I know absolutely nothing about her legal status but I am pretty sure that neither do those mods that pretend to. Unless they have a source or informant at the immigration bureau, but I seriously doubt it. 

Truths, lies and speculation…

I’ll do my best to sum up what have been said on the subject. Allegedly Abba has used a tourist Visa to enter the US, that’s why she goes back to Portugal very often and is never seen in the USA. She couldn’t have a work visa because she is not shooting any movie or TV show on US domestic soil. She couldn't have an Einstein Visa because she has no talent. She couldn’t have petitioned for a fiancée visa neither because she would have had to stay put and wait a few years for her citizenship and so traveling abroad for her second kinda wedding would have been out of the question. Also they added that this information was on the public record.

There’s some truths (like always), some wild speculation and some clear lies. 

First of all, someone’s immigration status is not really public information. Sure there is a number you can call to check an immigration status but you do need some personal information like name, date and place of birth which are easy to find for sure but also… a 13-character receipt number from your application or petition. She did share a shower porn with the world, but I don’t think she ever volunteered information regarding her travel documents or petition. So how would people know anything regarding her legal situation? 

Where has she been?

An important topic of discussion has been about her whereabouts. Interesting enough, that girl has been mostly MIA for the last couple of years. Has she been hiding in a basement or is she a ghost? We know she sort of pops out for certain events used for PR purposes (papwalks, a fashion show, the ghosted premiere, the GQ event) but she was not even seen for their alleged first wedding, nor for their alleged second wedding.  

Also interesting, she deactivated her location on Instagram a while ago so that no one could actually know where she is. The last time it was active was when she was shooting a movie with Anne Hathaway in Germany. It’s safe to assume that she doesn’t want people to know where she is because this way, she can be placed anywhere… anywhere where Chris is of course. 

What could her legal status be?

A dual citizenship is unlikely, for sure. She wasn’t born in the US and although we know she has a sister who lives there (and maybe she even has other family relatives who knows), she would have had to reside in the states for years to get it. 

But is a work visa out of the question? Of course, she hasn’t and is not shooting anything on US soil. But if there is a PR contract, doesn’t PR work qualify as… work? There are the papwalks of course, but also all the trips she had to take in order for them to shoot the material they needed (pictures and videos used for ridiculous cringy photo montages that were posted on Instagram stories). CAA (or another entity) could have very well sponsored her for a work visa and have her do all kind of stuff. We know how powerful this company is, how shady it is and how much pull it has. It is out of the realm of possibilities? 

And guess what, you can travel abroad under a work visa for business purposes (to shoot a movie in Germany for ex) or for a vacation (to the Bermuda for ex), you just need to have your travel permit approved. 

I am not saying she has a work visa btw, just that it’s possible and that there is no actual proof to say otherwise. It’s pure speculation. Like those mods are doing and passing for actual truth. 

I will add that I once asked one of those so-called Team PR blog for some precisions about this topic. It was someone I had very cordial talks with (I even provided them with material they used for their blog). They never answered those questions of course. Sidenote they blocked me after my pinned post defining who those blogs are and what they were doing without ever naming anyone and when they had never followed me in the first place. Make of that what you will. 

The (apparent) absence of marriage license and the fiancée visa?

A marriage license is actually a lot easier to find though because the public records are a lot simpler to access. Of course, there are a few exceptions, if you filed in California for example (but not realistic in their case) or if you filed a special request in front of a judge to have the records sealed. Up until now, no one has found their marriage license. 

No publication (no TMZ, not anyone) published it when we had trillion articles about their wedding but no confirmation from either of their teams for more than a month… until Chris’ appearance at the NY con. Also we can assume that a license would have probably popped out on one Team Real blog if such proof existed (faking a yoga certificate is one thing but faking such documents would be a federal offense).

By the way, Chris told us that he and Abba are NOT legally married. The words he used at that Con were so very specific: "kinda ceremonies". KINDA... Go Portugal! So he definitely put an asterisk to the marriage narrative. And I should add that no rep confirmed their marriage, another confirmation of their non-marriage.

But then again you could speculate that they had a kinda sorta spiritual Buddhist non-binding ceremony. I think team real blogs have supported this theory at some point if anyone wants to believe it. But in that case, if she wouldn’t petition for a dual citizenship and stay in the USA with her work visa, she wouldn’t face legal issues and she could pop in and out of the country with her approved travel permit. 

Again I am not saying it’s the truth, just that those immigration questions are very complex and are very unlikely to shed any light on that shitshow. 

Why use speculation (or even a blatant lie) to discredit another lie?

The question remains. Why would you need to bring up this topic to discredit a wedding when actual facts don’t add up? Some mods have done a fantastic job pointing them out. 

What purpose do those alleged immigration issues serve? Do they discredit Team PR blogs? Do they serve as an actual diversion? Because one thing is certain we don’t need those to question their kinda ceremonies, do we? 

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 La Revacholiere

2. Of all the creatures I've met you are the kindest.

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - Thank you. I also have one more thing to say to you: that woman -- turn from the ruin. Turn and go forward. Do it for the working class.

I can't.

I will try.

I will.

What woman?

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - You cannot lie to me. Behind you it smells of fires. So awfully far you were prepared to go in her presence. End it.

2. I will try.

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - She was middle class. It doesn't take a three-metre stick insect to tell you that.

+5 XP

5. Disengage slowly. [Leave.]

INSULINDIAN PHASMID - As you're turning away, the phasmid mirrors your movements, stepping on the water -- the long limbs carry its feather weight without breaking its surface.

And just like that it's gone -- skating away across the sea's calm mirror like a skipping stone, leaving nothing but circles on the water...

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - ...and something under it! In the place it stood, bobbing there, among the reeds. A collection of items.

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's gone..." The lieutenant looks north, with his hand raised to his brow.

"It can walk on water?"

"What's that -- in the reeds?"

"What now?" [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Apparently, yes -- like a water strider, only..." He shakes his head with amazement. "I've never seen *anything* like that in my life."

2. "What's that -- in the reeds?"

KIM KITSURAGI - He squints. "Looks like a nest of some sort? We should have a look."

3. "What now?" [Leave.]

THE DESERTER - "What now..." the old man behind you repeats suddenly. He's put his hand into the ash -- it's dirty and black.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - In some kind of strange, semi-catatonic state.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Our suspect is not looking so good. We need to check on him."

🎵 None

ITEM GAINED: (EVIDENCE) KLAASJE'S PASSPORT

ITEM GAINED: T-9/32 RIFLE SCOPE

ITEM GAINED: FAIRWEATHER T-500 HELMET

ENDURANCE - Brother, you've managed to collect all the armour pieces. Too bad it's too late for the big showdown.

Task complete: Find all armour pieces

+70 XP

Level up!

Don't think this helmet would have helped me anyway. (Look down at your wound.)

At least my collector's impulse has been satisfied.

I'm sure I'll have a use for this armour in the future.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - It would have looked very impressive... Still. You found it all. Now your mortal coil is *completely* protected. Few cops are this futuristic.

At least now I am truly invincible. [Leave.]

FAIRWEATHER T-500 HELMET

+1 Half-Light: Head as a battering ram -1 Suggestion: A fighter, not a lover

This monstrous looking, bug-eyed ceramic helmet was in the phasmid's nest. It still has some reeds sticking out of it -- and it smells of seawater -- but it's otherwise wearable, if not exactly comfortable. Putting it on feels scary somehow...

T-9/32 RIFLE SCOPE

A common 30mm sniper scope attachable to almost any bolt-action 4.46 caliber. It uses an older-style non-dotted rangefinding reticle. Seaweed is still stuck on the lens and it's suffered water damage from its time in the phasmid's dowry.

(EVIDENCE) KLAASJE'S PASSPORT

This well travelled passport, with visas stamped in it, is issued by the Republic of Oranje. You found it in the phasmid's nest on the island. You can open it for more details.

>INTERACT

ORANJESE PASSPORT - This passport, issued by the Sovereign Republic of Oranje -- is issued to a black haired woman called Katarzine Alasije.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Klaasje's hidden documents..." The lieutenant looks at it in your hands. "From the empty buoy."

Look at the photo.

"What was this doing in the phasmid's nest?"

"It says -- Katarzine Alasije."

[Put the passport away.]

ORANJESE PASSPORT - It's Klaasje. With short, black hair and glasses. She looks boyish, younger somehow.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - An old photo. Before life came and did what it does.

2. "What was this doing in the phasmid's nest?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Maybe our man, Mr. Dros, took it from Klaasje's -- or whatever her name was -- hiding place? Or..."

"Perhaps -- for some blackmailing plan?"

"I think the *phasmid* took it."

"The phasmid took it -- and I *sensed* it do so. I saw something open up the buoy with spindly legs." (Point to your head.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Perhaps... But that still doesn't explain how it got into the nest."

2. "The phasmid took it -- and I *sensed* it do so. I saw something open up the buoy with spindly legs." (Point to your head.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "Like a magpie?" He looks around. "What a coincidence. Then it would also have *collected* the other objects, which would be highly unusual..."

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - By now, the lieutenant has accepted your unusual methods.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can see how the helmet could wash up on the island. And the scope -- maybe Mr. Dros lost it? But to seek this out would be *very* unusual behaviour for an arthropod."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - Would it? Maybe it was simply curious.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenging: Success] - A curious octopus would do something similar. Or even a cuttlefish.

"Perhaps it was curious? Like an octopus?"

"Perhaps it had a vendetta against our Miss Oranje?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "An octopus belongs to a very different Class. It's not even an insect, it's a mollusc. But, yes -- I see your point."

3. "It says -- Katarzine Alasije."

KIM KITSURAGI - He opens his notes. "She said it would be for *Annouk Meijer-Smit*. Annouk -- Meijer -- Smit."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Katarzine Alasije was supposed to be her *real* name. Where *Klaasje* comes from, remember? God dammit!

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - I told you she kept lying to you. She's probably lying to someone else right now. In another city.

"Katarzine Alasije was supposed to be her real name. She lied to us."

"Maybe this is her real passport? Not a fake? Because this is her real name."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes, somehow she managed to lie to us -- *one more time*. In a way she's still lying to us right now." The lieutenant smiles.

+5 XP

4. "What's her *real* name then?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I don't know. But it's not Katarzine Alasije. Or Klaasje. Or Annouk Meijer-Smit. We didn't even scratch the surface with her, detective."

He looks east. "Perhaps it's better that we didn't arrest her. Who knows what hell she'd be raising in my district by now..."

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] - The winds are silent. The streets are empty of her. She is no longer in the city of Revachol.

5. [Put the passport away.]

🎵 Hope in Work and Joy in Leisure

THE DESERTER - "What is it?" The old man looks around, confused. "What do you want from me? I can't go..."

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something is very wrong with him now.

"Sir, how could you not *see* the phasmid?"

"I'll leave you be for now." [Leave.]

THE DESERTER - "S-s-s-see..." He stares at the reeds and falls silent.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Mr. Dros?"

THE DESERTER - The man does not respond -- he keeps staring, black eyes glazed over and bulging from their sockets, his gap toothed mouth shaking.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - With fear and longing.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - Like an addict of some terrible substance.

Snap your fingers under his nose.

Wave your hand in front of his eyes.

Touch his shoulder gently.

THE DESERTER - The plastic cape feels coarse. A light shiver passes the man -- other than that, no reaction. He feels small and frail.

KIM KITSURAGI - "He's going into some kind of... psycho-motor immobility." The lieutenant inspects him gently. "The good news is -- this solves our transportation problem. Doesn't it Mr. Dros?"

THE DESERTER - The trembling mouth appears to sigh.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Between this and the broken tyre he's used for a boat -- I think it's safe to leave him here, while we go and get help. It will need to be medical first, I'm afraid."

Task complete: Inspect the phasmid

+10 XP

"What has happened to this man?"

"We found some things in the phasmid's nest, Mr. Dros."

"Hang tight." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Old age and shock." He looks at him, then you.

"I think it's the *phasmid*."

"Old age and shock, yes."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes. The arrest and the appearance of the phasmid -- the combined stress..." He looks at you. "But you think it's something more than that, don't you?"

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - There's *much* more. Remember what it said, when it spoke.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Quite a few things about that health check you did on him make sense now.

"He couldn't *see* it, Kim. It's just the reeds for him."

"Before -- when I evaluated his state -- he seemed strangely animated."

"I think he's addicted to that thing."

"It's definitely toxic -- the phasmid. It told me it is."

"He's been here for a long time. Who knows how much of it in its company?" (Conclude.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "That could be part of the shock. But you're right -- something is off here. Mr. Dros..." He touches the man's shoulder.

THE DESERTER - No response.

"Maybe this is how the phasmid has stayed hidden all these years?"

No. It's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Then how did we see it?" He thinks. "Oh, you mean whatever does this, does it over *time*? Teenagers, kids, drunks -- sightings are brief. And hence not credible. But anyone who spends a long time with it..."

"Yes. You *forget* it's there."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Mhm." The lieutenant inspects the man. "Mr. Dros -- have you *ever* seen a stick insect, pretending to be the reeds?"

THE DESERTER - "Th-the..." The old man stutters.

KIM KITSURAGI - "The doctors will have to look at this. I hope your station has better medical personnel than 57. This is... a little advanced for a nurse."

2. "Before -- when I evaluated his state -- he seemed strangely animated."

KIM KITSURAGI - He nods. "He was energetic and articulate. After all these years alone, with little hygiene or medication I would expect worse."

"Perhaps this *animation* is induced by something in the phasmid?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "He does not seem to be *animated* now it's left..." He looks to the sea. "Honestly, I'm ready to believe anything at this point. Maybe it *is* psychoactive."

"I mean, why not? It's three metres tall…" He takes off his glasses and cleans them -- when he puts them back on he's still staring at the sea.

3. "I think he's addicted to that thing."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Like a drug?"

"He *has* displayed addict behaviour. And not *just* to painkillers."

KIM KITSURAGI - "His pupils appeared to be dilated. They still are..." He examines the catatonic man's eyes.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] - It's not just chemical.

"It's… as if he's infatuated with it."

No, it's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Some kind of oxytocin release mechanism? Would go with the pupils. But this is way above me, detective."

+5 XP

4. "It's definitely toxic -- the phasmid. It told me it is."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Told you? Yes. Good. During your *long* staring match. I understand." He looks at the man, then you.

5. "He's been here for a long time. Who knows how much of it in its company?" (Conclude.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "He did seem distressed when it finally came to arresting him. Like he didn't want to leave this place. And the insect maybe..." He looks at his notebook.

"I have absolutely forgotten to take notes. I hope I remember all of this." He shakes his head in disbelief. "This will be one hell of a report -- thank *god* we have the photo."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - No one would believe you without it.

2. "We found some things in the phasmid's nest, Mr. Dros."

THE DESERTER - He stares into the reeds. Your words don't stir anything in him. Perhaps you should...

Show him the ceramic helmet.

Show him the Oranjese passport.

Show him the detached scope.

"I'm going to let you rest now Mr. Dros." (Conclude.)

THE DESERTER - Nothing. Just dull staring -- not even rage left wherever he is.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - The last embers have gone out. The war is over.

KIM KITSURAGI - "If Cuno kicked it into the sea, as he said he did -- the ebb would pull it back here. This makes sense. Mr. Dros could have picked it up. Or... the phasmid, even? If it did, this is incredible..."

2. Show him the Oranjese passport.

THE DESERTER - No reaction. His breathing is slow and he appears very old all of a sudden. Around eighty.

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] - This is an old man -- at last. No longer a tin soldier, but the broken down remains of a man.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Did you take this passport and other papers from a buoy on the coast?"

THE DESERTER - He blinks and continues to stare at the reeds. "The... spirit."

KIM KITSURAGI - "He hears us... The spirit?"

THE DESERTER - No reply. He's gone again.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Try something else? We got him back for a moment."

3. Show him the detached scope.

THE DESERTER - "I..." He turns his eyes to it. "I lost..."

"You lost it, Mr. Dros?"

THE DESERTER - He turns his eyes to the reeds again -- as he's done so many times. Beige and white stripes...

KIM KITSURAGI - "He lost the scope. Then it somehow made its way over there. With the help of a magpie phasmid?" The lieutenant observes the lens sparkle in your hand.

"This sight is a T-9, Mr. Dros. Was it attached to the rifle, when you made the shot?"

THE DESERTER - Silence. Not even a sigh.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - You've gotten all you will out of this poor being.

4. "I'm going to let you rest now Mr. Dros." (Conclude.)

THE DESERTER - The plastic cape flaps around his face, in a gust of wind. His back is slouched and his mouth open.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Challenging: Success] - The blacks of his eyes are receding, his pupils are returning to normal.

ENDURANCE [Medium: Success] - The strength has all gone out of him -- just frail old bones in a sack of tracksuit trousers and a wind breaker.

3. "Hang tight." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "We should think about getting back to the mainland. To get help. He'll be safe here. If we don't take too long..."

+1 Reputation

New task: The Return

Gonna leave it there for today.

[bryn-not-brynn]

Woah. Hold up. I actually wrote a thing. It was stuck in my head, begging to be put on paper or in text, haha. I think my ideas from the older gen are now strongly influenced by the wonderful Full Circle story from @averagejoesolomon, and many other amazing writers here. So thanks everyone for making this fun!

So whatever this thing is, here it is.

Joe is deeply calmed by Rachel's presence. Even as friends, her decisive nature brings his unsure soul to a grounding point. Matt without question was the one that saved Joe. It was Matt who pieced him back together, saved him from himself, and cared enough to ease some of his hurt. After Matt dies, Joe shatters again. Not how he was before; he is now broken knowing the loss of that much needed love. It's only Matt's memory and the promise of protecting Rachel and Cammie that keeps Joe in some sort of half-living state.

After warming up to one another again, Joe realizes how much it was that Rachel played a role in his healing. Unable to hide some of his more overwhelming trauma from her with panic attacks he tells her small things just to get her off of his back.He notices with amusement that Matthew must have stolen words right out of Rachel's mouth to comfort him, or maybe it was visa versa, either way they sound unbelievably similar trying to talk him down.

Once they are together and Rachel knows everything? Oh, man. Joe learns a peace that he never knew was possible. If Matt was like his anchor, then Rachel is like his safety net. He's not entirely sure what it is. He doesn't much care. Aside from some really bad night terrors and panic attacks, they can almost pretend that Joe hasn't been hurt, that Joe isn't scared of anything.

He wonders, awake at night with Rachel aleeep beside him exactly what it is that brings him so much comfort. Maybe it's just all of her, all the time. Maybe if it is just the loving touch of a woman? Sleeping next to someone you love every night, like someone to scare the monsters inside him away? Someone who knows the right things to say, gives the best hugs,wants to hold him, and is willing to drop it all for someone she loves. Someone who allows him to be so weak and simultaneously thinks of him as strong. Maybe it's having someone who knows the worst things you've ever done or seen and still looks at you every day like she's luck to have you? Although he's entirely convinced that he's the lucky one and no one could change his mind. Lucky to have had Matt, to be loved by him. Lucky that Matt was so damn stubborn to get him and Rachel to get along. It's like he knew they'd need each other after he was gone. Lucky that he and Rachel found a way to get back in the same room as one another, to share their grief rather than hide it. Lucky, after everything that he's been through that he gets to have a happy ending with her and Cam. Lucky to get to love Rachel. Lucky that he's so so loved by all the Morgans in his life.

[miercolaes]

howdy friends, fiends and foes! i'm currently having brainrot for alice in borderland and i was wondering if anyone would be down to see how it goes if wednesday and your muse would end up there! i won't spoil the tv show in case you want to watch it, but under read more there's a brief description of what's going on!

PLAYER REGISTERED:// welcome to the borderlands. no one knows how they ended up here nor if there is a way out. all that we know is that people suddenly started disappearing and vegetation has claimed the cities. it's sort of odd how this world looks, there's something uncanny about it. do you see that billboard lit up? it says there's a game arena nearby. you should go and play before your visa runs out. you don't want to find out what happens after the visa runs out.

WELCOME PLAYER! there are a few things you should know.

01. once you enter a game arena, you can't back out. if you do so, a laser will kill you. no one knows where the lasers come from and it seems no one can find a way around them.

02. each game has assigned a particular card. the cards can be as followed [ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10 , J , Q , K ], which acts as ranks to the game difficulty. meaning, 1 is the easiest and K is the hardest. you don't know what card the game has until the game commences.

03. the cards also have particular suit. here's what each suit means. CLUB ( ♣ ) - require teamwork. these games force the participants to foster trust and cooperation between themselves in order to win. these games require a bit of strategy, as the players need to come up with a plan together to make it to the end. the venues for the club games tend to be some of the biggest, as they often take place in massive buildings or outdoors somewhere. SPADES ( ♠ ) - require physical endurance, strength, agility and stamina. the games can include all types of physical activity, including running, fighting and climbing. combat based games often allow the use of weapons, which isn't as common in other games. DIAMONS ( ♦ ) - require logic, strategy, wits and intelligence. players participanting in these games must use critical thinking, analytical skills and sound strategy to survive. these games are often in small venues and don't require much physical effort to complete, as they're all about mental capabilities. HEARTS ( ♥ ) - require emotional and psychological intelligence. the games seem to require participants to either trust or betray their teammates in order to survive. they're considered the hardest suit as it often plays with the participants' minds.

if you want a starter based in the borderlands, you may send the number and the suit (i.e. 5♠) or write it out (i.e. five of spades).

the borderlands can be anywhere so no matter the universe, there is a possibility of being one. if you want our muses to be in a specific location, be it real or fictional, add it to your message (i.e. five of spades, jericho)

if you want the starter to be prior, during or after a specific game, add before / during / after (i.e. five of spades, jericho, after).

there are no games set in stone, meaning we can create our own or take examples from children's games (i.e. hide and seek), squid game (i.e. red light, green light) or steal some from aib canon (i.e. four of clubs is called distance). if you want a specific game, add it to your message (i.e. five of spades, jericho, after, hide and seek).

you can either comment on this or send me an ask! i choose violence but i also want to write with you so here we are! thank you for reading this if you got this far and if you have any questions, please do ask anywhere you want, be it comments, ims (those are not yet working properly on desktop but i will check them out on the mobile app), discord, asks (anonymous or otherwise)

[benj-hyun]

BENJAMIN HYUN

Full Name:  Benjamin Hyun Nicknames: Ben, Benj (close friends), Benny (parents) Pronouns and Gender: He/Him, Cis Male Age and Birthday: 40 years old, June 10th Birth place: Dallas, TX  Sexuality: Biromantic Bisexual Occupation: Microbial Ecologist Education: Masters in Ecology, minor in Environmental Science Residence: Crystal Cove Condominiums Time in Aurora Bay: 15 years Face claim: Steven Yeun

tw: bullying mildly mentioned, infidelity, very brief mention of racism

HISTORY —

Born to immigrant parents, Benjamin came to be three years after they’d moved to the States from South Korea with their work visas. They’d settled down in Dallas, Texas.

His father was a boilermaker, and his mother had started with an easy, secretarial job part time until she ended up pregnant. Once Ben was born, she became a stay-at-home mother.

Ben had been raised with nothing short of care and love and all the support he could ever need. There was an expectation for him to go to college so he wouldn’t have to work like his father, but that was the only pressure he received. For that reason, they were big on him not working through the school months, only summer in between grades, and pinched pennies to save up for his tuition.

He also may have been an only child, but he met Ricardo living in the same complex as him when he was very young. He was very much so like an older brother to Ben.

Ben had been a basketball player through high school, starting on the Varsity in his senior year. Along with his time in after school clubs and encouraged volunteer hours put him on the path to success.

The hardest he had was the occasional comment made about his ethnicity from someone closed-minded as he did grow up in Texas, but bullying hadn’t been a real problem. The nineties into the two-thousands had been more kind to him than what his parents put up with in the early years of their residency in America.

When he graduated high school, he’d done so a year early, and he ended up pursuing a degree in Ecology with a minor in Environmental Science at Berkeley College in California. By twenty-one, he earned his bachelor’s, and then by twenty-three, his Master’s.

Ben had fallen in love with the West Coast. Not only for the dry heat, which had been a relief in comparison to the Texas summers, but the shoreline, palm trees, and the mountains. Added in the open-mindedness of California communities, and the higher pay rates, he sought employment in the Golden State.

He did help to move his parents out to the West Coast, and he’s even used some of his salary to get them settled and comfortable in San Diego. That made it easy for him to decide to settle in Aurora Bay, so he isn’t far away.

TRAITS.

+ Flexible, sociable

+/- Empathetic, tactful

- Inconsistent, moody

HEADCANONS.

⊹ Ben has had a series of relationships, short to long-term, but no matter the length or reason for how they come to an end, he always finds the best course of action following a break-up is to hide in his room listening to Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper on repeat.

⊹ he never learned how to ride a bike. When he was a kid, he always stood on the back of ricardo’s. the training wheels never came off.

⊹ moths scare him. He hates the idea of mothman.

⊹ he can speak Korean, and he also knows beginner level sign language.

⊹ he will 100% eat your leftovers if they’re put in his fridge, but in the same breath be extremely moody if someone eats his.

CONNECTIONS.

Ben has been in Aurora Bay for fifteen years, so he will need any sort of connection that comes to mind. Friends, rivals, frenemies, hook-ups, ex-romantic conquests, etc.

♡ @castellcnos - ben met ricardo down in texas. their parents lived in the same apartment complex, and they swiftly became best friends. ben even followed him out to berkeley college in california. after ricardo's marriage fell apart, ben has invited him to live with him in aurora bay to get back on his feet.

♡ @santiagodeleons - santi is ben's other close friend, and at times, more the voice of reason than ricardo. despite his feelings about what happened with his marriage, ben does stay steadfastly by his side.

♡ @maura-cortes - the niece ben never expected to obtain, he's grown to love her like family. he also has a bit of a soft spot when it comes to her asking for things, like money. (not in game but canon)

♡ @laureljacobs - when ricardo first left for college, ben had no other friends. he saw laurel off to the side by herself, figured it would be the easiest friendship to make. he was wrong. she was extremely stubborn about letting him in, but it did give him something to do every day until he graduated and left..

♡ @bradley-banner - their friendship has long since shifted into an awkward one being she is santiago's ex-wife, but ben respects both sides by talking about neither to the other. (not in game but canon)

♡ @auggievillanueva - his first serious relationship in aurora bay, ben had been all in. but when everything in auggie's life became too much and overwhelming, and he decided to break things off, ben took it too heart that he didn't want to try and extent the extra effort to make things work.

♡ @delilahcarreno - it was some time after auggie ben met delilah, and though he didn't fall into this one as fast he definitely fell harder. she had been 'the one' if asked by anyone, but when she cheated it ripped his heart out.

♡ @esmemaxwcll - an awkward tinder date gone bad, benj feels bad about it but he also knows it's just because they didn't click.

LINKS.

⊹ pinterest

⊹ inspo

⊹ playlist about Ben

@aurorabayaesthetic

[alazyparallelworld]

How did you meet your boyfriend? Is it a LDR??

oh-!! uhm, yes, we are long-distance. overseas, lol. our financial situations n visas n Worldwide Regulations mean we haven't met in-person yet… our plans keep getting pushed back for such-n-such reasons, but we got like. a Specific Goal this year, that'll coincide with other reasons for him to be in the states. etc.

AS FOR THE, 'MEET CUTE,' he was aware of me beforehand. we - my 'best friend,' (one of them) who is also his best friend is… his ex… for a time, when i was in between clusterfucks of relationships whether For Real romantic or fp(s) on unrequited (@ me- i was not, interested in either of them. flips hair) crushes or whatever - i referred to them, as, my 'wife' in a tongue-in-cheek way

THIS CERTAINLY. MADE HIM REACT. he knew me prior, still, but calling his ex - 'my wife!' got his eye. and his ire. i, oblivious, of this one-sided enemy (jokes) … anyway, our mutual Best Friend at some? point? hosted a stream. quiet, not too busy, as it was a friends-only affair. i was either lonely, or bored, maybe some mix of the two, or felt as thought i was Neglecting my best friend due to my then-chaotic IRL life and housing situation. so, i, watched. i think only me n my bf were there, perhaps a third person dipped our during, etc.

he was polite enough. both of our schedules were free, he was unemployed, yada yada, i was in desperate need of Companionship, so we exchanged discords. and i remember. keenly. my first, guttural, Reaction was

"oh, i'm gonna trap his ass"

despite everything he has never been my. FP. favorite person. no, this was sort of… Pure, obsession, head-over-heels. to this day i cannot pinpoint what was the. Attractive feature? Why he 'stole my heart' [ouma JPN voice] or swept me off my feet. myb he had small, but numerous, Allures. or i was that needy, that any kind of - 'relatively normal' attention, that was not Unadulterated Delusional Infatuations as i was receiving on the side - caught my full attention. IDK.

later on, in an idle convo between us 3 (me, bf, aforementioned best friend) best friend was like… I had a feeling - you two would - essentially, played, matchmaker. Cupid. and i was ready to fall in love.

but he was. Is. different. he was very cautious about me, wary, as thru secondhand talkings he knew my life and my Personality was. unstable. Fluxing… that, to me, lol - i've always liked, puzzles, challenges, and whereas for anyone else i would [smash whatever dumb barrier separates] i played along. I didn't want to scare him away. I didn't 'hide' my - uh, insanity, rlly - or my poor mental n physical health, the latter of which was. RAPIDLY deteriorating. but i didn't unveil the, "I WANT TO HAVE A QUIET, INDOOR WEDDING, AND THEN WE LIVE BEHIND A WHITE-PICKET FENCE-" which is mandatory for my "i am deeply Enraptured/Obsessed/In Love with you." lmfao

REALLY… IK THIS SOUNDS, MELODRAMATIC BUT. i think in a month-or-two of us. Crossing the friendship line [n we were well beyond that line, the Too-Far-4-Friendship Event was a daily occurrence] he asked, tentative, for clarification. You don't… like me, right? Bc I don't feel the same way. I don't think I can, ever will, etc.

me, lying thru my teeth: Of course not. This is just for fun. :) We're friends!

TO BE CLEAR I WAS NOT HURT BY HIS. "I don't wanna date you! Ever! Sorry!!!" as i said he was wary! i knew not to push. give him time… and then another month-or-two later, he backtracked. "I think.. I'm in love with you…" and i, went, oh same. Have been.

he asked, if i already was, back during his establishing, "i don't like you That Way," and i said. Yeah! Really, from the moment I met you. THIS SHOCKED HIM AT THE TIME altho he had, Suspicions abt my actual feelings, thruout our pre-dating… he agrees that if i had been honest - "I do like you! A lot, actually! Since our first exchanging of sentences -!!" he would've bolted. Ran for the hills. he's quite 'tsun' or 'kwaa' about it, so don't tell him i told you that… /light-hearted

all this to say. I succeeded. I trapped his ass. [Shows off our interlinked chain] but, if you think about it, it's the vice versa… so often I'm mistaken for Amy Dunne to his Nick, in reality it's the op- [dragged off screen]

[alekx]

I Would Go Back

It’s been a little over three weeks since getting back from a trip to the United States with my family. We spent time with relatives, watched my younger sister get married, and visited other towns and cities. The visa application process was challenging, so was mustering up the courage to ask to take time off work, and finally spending an extended amount of time in foreign surroundings with family. But in many ways it, too, was worth it.

I have so far gotten through most of the pasalubong, given them away and shared to the people I returned to. I have unpacked (though the laundry refuses let me see the bottom of the bin, it seems). I have slept -- or at least tried to -- the jet lag away. I have somewhat fallen back into the rhythm of work. Yet, on quiet moments, I still find myself, in my mind’s eye, in the places we visited and in the company of the people we were with.

I’m still watching the fishes in Tito A’s fish tank, watching the leaves sway from the second floor window of his house with my sister’s two cats, and sweating under the Houston sun in a beautiful garden while teary-eyed as I watch two people exchange vows. I'm still in a bungalow with the orange door, figuring out which of my cousins own what room and committing to memory the things I like about their common bathroom (the soap, the shower curtains, the tiles). I’m still looking with wonder at the blue of Lake Michigan with my friend Div, walking along the artsy streets of the West Village, contemplating over paintings at the National Gallery I never thought I’d see with my actual two eyes, driving back from the zoo with Marie, falling along a long line at Trader Joe’s to buy mango juice, and sitting beside an older lady from Illinois who said I reminded her of her daughter who passed away much too young. I am still helping her figure out the controls of the in-flight entertainment so she could watch a movie on our layover from Taiwan and she hasn’t been to the Philippines since 2017. Last week, I wore a shirt that still smelled like the detergent my dad used with the hotel washers during designated laundry days. I knew that after that moment that scent would be gone, so I spent a few seconds inhaling it one last time from the inner collar. Inside my jewelry drawer, I have a pin of The Bean, a memento from my time in Chicago and my insistence to see this landmark and visit Grant Park. I’m currently hiding a bag of dark chocolate-covered gojis and raspberries my mom’s cousin bought at a grocery store for us. I pick two or three pieces everyday with glee and loss at the same time. I am here, but in some ways I am also still there.

I’d be honest that when we returned home, I didn’t think that I would want to go back so soon. I have things in Manila that I wanted, needed, to sort out so urgently moving forward with my life. And yet here we are, finding myself in quiet moments staring at the white of my walls and clinging to as much as I can remember, repainting and replaying the images in my mind over and over again.

I awoke at 2am yesterday… morning? evening? I never know what to call it, that time after 12 that is neither day nor night. For some reason, I was reminded to look up online the collections of the museums and galleries I went to during my time abroad. Google Arts & Culture didn't have works from the Menil Collection, but I was happy to find their website with the ones we weren't allowed to photograph during our visit. They have an interesting collection from the Surrealists. I would go back to walking along Montrose again. Or Evanston. Or along Avenue of the Americas after a late dinner while shivering in the cold of New York that is unfamiliar to tropical-born tourists like me. I would go back. I don’t know when, but I would.

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (01)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

AO3 Link      Masterlist   

You can't do it anymore.

You collapse on the ground as you turn a corner, legs giving up on you. Whatever breath you have left leaves your lungs as you hit the floor with a hard 'thud'.

You can hear them behind you, running and howling like a pack of wolves on a hunt.

You happen to be the prey.

You had been careful until now; walking mostly at night, making sure no one was around when you went scavenging for food, keeping distance from others during games, masking your natural scent with all sorts of perfumes. Just avoiding people altogether. 

You had no idea how you got there, but you knew that, as an unclaimed Omega, you would be more at risk than anyone else. Alphas were rare, but if one happened to find you, you couldn’t imagine it ending well for you. Even Betas were a risk, as most could also distinguish you from a regular Beta.

And here you are, proving yourself right. Running from him.

You had been careless. You were tired, always on edge, always hiding. So you ate your portion of stale cornflakes after another sleepless night and headed out from your hiding spot. Completely forgetting about masking your scent. 

Your visa was almost over. You needed to find a new game. And so you did.

You are regretting that now.

A loud laugh from not that far behind you gives you the encouragement you need to stand up and run. Just run. If he catches you, you're done for. If he catches you, you're his.

You can smell him. That strong, masculine, unrecognizable Alpha scent. His is so strong that it almost overwhelmed you when it first hit your nostrils, back at the game.

Six of Spades. That was the game you had gotten yourself into; kill the predator or be killed by the predator. In a zoo. 

How fitting, you had thought to yourself as you climbed a tree to escape an actual wolf. You had seen at least four different species of predators. All animals that you were completely unprepared to defend yourself against, never mind killing. Your hunting knife could only do so much. Fortunately for you, wolves couldn't climb trees.

But tigers could.

You had felt the big cat's eyes on you before you could even see him. All you had managed to do was let out a gasp and close your eyes as the huge orange beast pounced in your direction.

Gunshots. A heavy body falling to the ground. A wolf whimpering; that might have been you.

And then it hit you; that overwhelming, strong, musky scent.

You had opened your eyes and, no more than twenty meters from you stood a tall man, dressed in black. Eyes locked on you. You felt a shiver run down your back, and the hairs on the back of your neck rose; you weren't sure if in fear or something else.

The tiger was dead. The wolf had run away. But there was a new predator. And he was looking straight at you.

An Alpha.

You had no doubt about it. Betas didn’t smell anything like that, but Alphas...Alphas were made to lure you in. To let you know who they were. Alphas and Omegas were biologically connected. It was almost impossible to fight the urge to possess and be possessed.

And you no doubt had the same effect on him.

You noticed when he took some steps towards you and then stopped. You saw how his eyes had sparkled, his body language shifting to that of a predator. You hadn’t dared to move, waiting for his next move. You doubted he was going to shoot you, but the man did have a gun. Before the stranger could give another step, a lion had appeared right behind him, taking his focus from you and allowing you to escape.

That’s how you got into the position you are in right now; running from the man with the sniper rifle. You had managed to keep yourself hidden until the end of the game, but he had somehow found your scent and was tracking you down, together with his crew.

You stop again, taking labored breaths as you hide yourself the best you can in an alley. If life taught you anything about Alphas, is that they don’t give up until they get what they want. You would know; you managed to be unclaimed through all these years out of sheer spite for your biology, and determination. And a lot of pepper spray. 

You try to think of a plan, a way to get them to lose track, but you can’t think of anything. If he got your scent, he will find you eventually. That doesn’t mean that you will just get on all fours and wait for him to take you. If it depends on you he can hunt you till he’s dead. You won’t be some Alpha’s bitch.

You hear footsteps getting louder, together with the voices of the people pursuing you. You can smell him, getting closer and closer. You have to act fast. You spot a ladder on the side of a building and try to get it down, climbing on top of some trashcans for easier access. He won’t be able to track you as easily if you go up. The ladder is rusty and doesn’t budge, even when you desperately pull it with everything you got. With a last angry pull, the ladder finally releases, and you start climbing as fast as your tired legs allow you.

“Gotcha!” exclaims an excited male voice as you feel a hand grab your calf. Your heart almost stops. “Niragi, over here!”

You glance down at the man grabbing you before kicking him right in the face with your free foot. The man falls back, holding his now bleeding nose in his hands, and you take that moment to continue climbing. You want the most distance from that Niragi guy as you can.

You don’t look back even when you feel someone climbing after you. You have to keep going. It's only four stories high. You’re almost at the top.

A loud gunshot. Pain sparks in your leg and you scream, almost releasing your grip on the ladder.

“You fucking idiot, who told you to shoot her?!” a voice growls, followed by another gunshot. “I want her alive and unharmed! Whoever touches her dies!”

You dare to glance down, and you see the body of the man you had kicked just moments prior, now with a bullet hole in his forehead. Then you lock eyes with him; your predator.

He's looking at you with fire in his eyes; like he wants to eat you alive. Your body feels his glare more than your mind ever could, and a warm sensation pools at your center. You can't look away.

He can smell it; of course he can. You're now much closer than at the zoo, and you can see his face clearly. How pretty he is. How his nostrils flare and his eyes go dark; scenting you. You’re glad that at least you’re not in heat; it would have been game over for you before the game even started. 

"You know I'm gonna get you, right?" he says with a malicious grin, voice low.  "I'm gonna catch you, and I'm gonna make you mine."

His words bring you back to reality, and you take the last steps up into the roof, ignoring the laugh of the man below you.

"Run little wolf, run!"

You pull yourself up and run as fast as you can. You're pretty sure the bullet only grazed the skin, so you ignore the pain in your leg as you jump to the next building. You are lucky houses here are all so close to each other. You keep running, not daring to look back.

You can hear him running behind you, catching up to you, and your eyes start tearing up. Your lungs feel like fire and your legs are cramping; you can't go on for much longer. You prepare to jump when a hand grabs you by the wrist. His touch feels like electricity against your skin. You both gasp and his grip soften. The sensation is so surprisingly new that you lose your balance and trip, falling. For a second, you wonder if this is how you die; falling from a building while in that hellish place.

The next you’re wondering how can someone smell so unbelievably good. 

He smells like spices; it’s delicious. You are pressed firmly against his chest, his arms around your waist. You’re sniffing his shirt before you can control yourself. Never in your life had an Alpha’s scent been so strong and so alluring. You want to lick him; to feel his skin against your lips and his taste on your tongue. You feel his face on your hair like he’s burning your scent in his memory. You let out a needy whimper when one of his hands slid up your body to grab a boob, squeezing the soft globe in his large palm. His hands feel so good on you. Warm and big and pleasurable

“I said I was going to catch you, little wolf,” he whispers in your ear, hot breath making a chill go down your body. His tongue licks a long strip of your neck and you let out a moan. He chuckles. “Now you’re mine.”

No.

Those words make you gasp like you have been burned, and you push him away from you. You belong to no one. And it will stay that way; you rather be dead than be bonded to some random man. 

“D-Don’t touch me,” you say, a slight tremble in your voice. “Stay away from me.”

His eyes darken and you gulp, looking around. You’re trapped; no way you’re able to run more. But you can fight; you have your hunting knife, while he seems to have let go of the sniper he was carrying earlier. You still have a chance.

“Now, why the fuck would I do that?” he asks with a lopsided smirk. “I can smell how much you want me. How much you need an Alpha to fill you up and mark you.” he gives a step in your direction; waiting.

Waiting for you to fight back.

You wouldn’t want to disappoint. You reach for the knife strapped to your hip, but...it’s not there. You freeze, eyes wide.

“Looking for this?” he chuckles in your direction, your knife in hand. He’s taunting you; playing games. You take a deep breath and lock eyes with him. How did you not feel him steal your weapon? You can feel your anger building up. You’re tired, you’re hungry...you’re furious.

“Give it back!” you command, fists closed, “And I don’t want anything to do with you so fuck off!”

The smile on his face falls, substituted by a scowl. You can feel the anger radiating from him. That only makes you angrier; he has no right in feeling that way. You’re the one about to be taken against your will. You jump and try to grab the knife, but he’s faster than you, trapping you against his chest. 

His skin touching yours makes a wave of heat spread through your core once again, but this time you ignore it as best as you can. You feel him press himself against your backside; hard and warm. Your mind fogs and you release the grip you have on his forearm.

Maybe you could...just for a moment. Your wolf mind keeps screaming at you to accept what you were born to do; be a baby-making factory to some random man with high testosterone levels and ego issues.

The back of your head hits his face with a loud crack; you hope that was his nose breaking. You crouch to grab your knife, now on the floor, but he’s on top of you before you can even touch the handle. You both fall on the hard roof, struggling to get a hold of the damn knife first.

“Stop!” he has you pinned down on the cement, one hand holding your wrists down. You’re trapped; now without a chance of escaping. His other hand has your knife, now pressed to your throat. His eyes burn like coals and half of his face is covered in blood. You feel a little pride at the sight, even if the blood has stopped falling due to his Alpha healing. He presses the blade against your skin. “What the fuck are you trying to do?” there’s a hint of confusion in his question. “Do you know who I am?”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” You reply, struggling against his grip. The blade on your neck nibs your skin and you stop. “Do it. Kill me.” You know he will never hurt you to that degree. He was biologically programmed to protect you; he has to be fighting every instinct in his body to even be able to hold that knife against your neck. You notice how his hands are slightly trembling. “I dare you. Slit my throat; it’s the only way I’m leaving this roof with you.”

His eyes go wide for a second before he lets out a sudden laugh. He buries his face against your neck, and you feel the sticky blood get on your skin. You don’t dare to move or take more than a shallow breath; you’re too scared of losing control of yourself again. He continues laughing against your neck, and you have to control the urge to moan at the proximity.

“I knew you would be fun when you just kept running, but this-?” he presses himself against you, firm and warm. You shudder; you can feel your control slipping away. “Refusing me even when I’m this close? Touching you?” his tongue is on your pulse. “Kissing you?” 

“Please stop-”

“-Biting you?” his teeth graze the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. You cry out, instinctively pushing against him, neck at his disposal. The marking spot; if he bites you there while knotting in you, you’re bonded. Your wolf is screaming at you to let go and let him take you. You need him. You want him.

The wolf is out.

Your legs are around his waist before you can control yourself. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and you can feel the wetness growing in between your legs. You grind your core against his crotch, groaning in displeasure at the lack of skin contact. His lips take yours in a rough kiss, his tongue pushing against yours as he kisses you senseless. He lets go of your wrists to handle your body, one hand on your breast as the other slithers down to your shorts.

You whine when his fingers finally manage to reach your throbbing cunt. He smiles in the kiss as he starts playing with your clit. You moan and your hands fly to his hair, pulling on the soft strands; you want more of him. He bites your lip and you pull his face further against yours. He chuckles when his fingers enter you without warning, swallowing your cries with a kiss. You move your hips against his hand, wishing it was his cock instead.

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

“More,” you whine against his lips. “Please- Alpha, please.” 

He doesn’t answer. His hand leaves your pussy with a wet sound, and you cry at the void he left with only his fingers. He doesn’t break the kiss as he gets rid of your shorts, throwing them somewhere. Your panties soon follow, and you moan when the cold air hits your swollen clit. His fingers go back to your pussy, now playing with the slickness that sticks to your thighs, spreading it up and down your slit. His lips move to your neck, where he sucks the skin right above your pulse. You whine and he chuckles, teeth nibbling your skin.

The hand on your pussy rises, fingers glistening with your slick. His eyes glint when he sticks his tongue out, licking his fingers clean of you. You gasp at the sight. He moans like it’s the best thing he has ever tasted. 

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he says, lust-filled gaze locked on you. “So beautiful.” You blush at the praise, wanting more. You want whatever he has to offer you. His fingers go back to fucking your wet entrance, and you feel your eyes filling with tears; you want more, more, more.

“Alpha, I need you-” 

“Now this is more like an Omega,” you can hear his belt as he fumbles with his pants. You open your legs wider; hoping. “All wet and ready for me to take.”

You scream when he slides inside you, thick cock replacing long fingers. The feeling is unlike anything you have ever felt before. The Betas you fucked during your exasperating heats can’t compare. Nothing can. You feel so full. So deliciously filled to the brim. You never felt pleasure like this.

You moan as he roughly thrusts into you, moving your hips in time with his shoves. His cock touches all the right spots, and he feels even deeper every time he penetrates you. You can feel the pain as the cement floor grazes against your back and bottom, but that doesn’t matter; you have something more important to focus on right now.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts against your mouth. You clench around him at the praise and he moans, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, do that again- oh shit yes! Good girl. So good, all ready to be filled to the brim with my cum.”

“Yes, yes, I- I want you.”

“Say my name, Omega,” his tongue starts licking your neck. “Niragi,” he gives a particularly hard thrust, and you yelp. “Say it!”

“Ni-Niragi!” You feel the name on your tongue. You’ll say that name until your throat turns raw. “Niragi, fuck me harder,” you beg. “Knot in me- please, please.” He does as you say, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You arch your back as his cock abuses your g-spot with every shove. You see stars behind your eyelids; if you knew how this felt earlier, you would’ve let him take you right there at the zoo where he saved you. 

Niragi, Niragi, Niragi. Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

“It’s such a shame you’re not in heat,” he grunts with a hard slap to your ass. You shudder and slid your hand in between your bodies, wanting to touch more of his skin. “I would love to knot and mark you right here.” He practically rips your t-shirt in a rush to take it off, exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. He buries his head in between your breasts, latching onto a nipple like a starved man.” Fill you up till I was sure you’re pregnant with my pups,” he continues with a lick to your nipple. You moan and clench around him again. “Make sure that everyone knows who your Alpha is, who you belong to. And I will. This is a promise”

Yes, yes, yes. You want that. All of it. All of him.

You can feel your orgasm growing, pulling at your core like it’s about to explode. He feels it too, and the hand previously pinching your nipple goes to press on your clit, taking you closer to the edge. You can feel how close he is too, thrusts getting sporadic and breath getting heavier. You stare at his face, actually looking at him; his eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a moan. You notice the glint of the piercing on his tongue, as you do the ones on his face. You take in the detail of his pretty nose, the shape of his eyes, his plush lips. Half of his face is still dirty with blood. He’s beautiful.

You feel a weird emotion go through you; something your rational brain knows is strictly biological, not real. But the wolf one is howling in happiness, absolutely delighted. You pull his face to yours and kiss him hard, wondering if he feels the same. Part of you is scared he does; the other is terrified he doesn’t.

“Come for me, Omega,” he moans against your lips. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. You lay there as it flows over you in waves, legs shaking and mouth open in a silent scream of euphoria. It’s like fireworks inside you, consuming you. You wonder if you lost your consciousness when you feel him come inside you, filling you with his cum. You had never let anyone come in you before. But, as the warm sensation spreads inside you, you realize you love it. You want more. You feel like you will die if he doesn’t do it again.

Most of his weight is on top of you as you both regain your breath. He’s still inside, and part of you doesn’t want him to ever leave. But your wolf had what she wanted, so you’re able to regain full control of your mind again, fog dissipating to be replaced by shame and anger. How could you have been so weak? Now it would be almost impossible for you to escape; you weren’t bonded ('yet', your wolf happily adds) but now you had a connection. If bonding was like a marriage, what you had done definitely counted as engagement.

He feels when your body tenses up, raising his head from your chest. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, waiting for your next move. 

“Was it that bad?” he asks after a moment. With a sigh, he kisses your breast before raising himself on his hands, one on each side of your head. He looks you straight in the eye for a beat, before sliding off of you with a hiss. You moan at the loss, especially when he stands up; you feel so cold without his warm body on you.

You don’t answer; he doesn’t look like he expects you to. Sitting up, you wince as you feel every pain your body has been ignoring until now. Part of your back and backside are covered in scratches from the cement floor; your cunt burns like it’s on fire, but now for a completely different reason, and your chest and neck are covered in fresh hickeys and small bites. Part of you feels like dying of shame, while the other is overwhelmed with joy by finally being marked by an Alpha. An uncomfortable feeling sits in the pit of your stomach.

You look around for your clothes, being surprised by your Alpha, no, Niragi, extending them in your direction. You take them with a mumbled 'thanks', doing your best not to wince as you get dressed. You feel his eyes on you, so you pretend he’s not there. You gather the courage to finally stand up, and his hands are supporting you before you can make a move.

His skin on yours feels again like a spark of electricity; only that now is familiar and, dare you say, wanted. You keep your eyes down as you stand up on wobbly legs, trying to ignore everything about him. But you can’t; not really. His scent is on your skin and hair; his cum is inside you and on your inner thighs. Even his blood is on your skin. 

After a moment of hesitation, you pick your knife from the floor; he doesn’t stop you. You feel like crying; this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You’re just trying to do your best to survive while being completely alone. And now this. 

A sob erupts from you with such strength that you feel him jump next to you. You hide your face in your hands as you sob uncontrollably, tears streaming down your face. Your mind is a mess, everything hurts and you’re so, so tired. You miss home, you miss your family, you miss your bed. You need a nap.

“Oh fuck, did I hurt you?” you hear the slight panic in his voice as he gets closer. “Tell me, what did I do?”

You shake your head and take several steps back; you need as much distance from him as possible. You turn to leave, a still defiant part of you daring him to stop you. As you expect, he’s on you before you can take more than a couple of steps.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” his tone is angry and confused. “You’re coming with me.”

“N-no.” you manage to say, sobbing. “I’m not go-going with you anywhere.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he grabs your hands, forcing them down so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine down, don’t you feel it in you?”

“We- we are not bonded,” you remind him. Remind yourself, “I- I can still leave.”

His eyes wide in an incredulous expression, like your words are the stupidest, most ludicrous thing he has ever heard. “Are you out of your mind?” he asks in a raised tone, “Do you actually think I’m gonna let you go?

“We don’t know each other!” you scream in his face. “I never- I never wanted this to happen,” your last words are barely audible as you keep crying. “We’re just two strangers forced together by something beyond our control.” 

You whimper when you feel him hesitantly touch your shoulder, before pulling you against his chest. You mumble a 'no' in-between crying gasps and lightly struggle against his grip; you have to get away from him. He ignores you, one arm going around your waist while the other awkwardly pats your head. You finally give up when you feel his lips on your temple, whispering something you can’t quite understand. Whatever he’s doing, it calms you down. 

You stay in his arms for some time. You hate how much you enjoy it; how safe he makes you feel. He killed one of his own, for goodness sake. You know nothing about him.

“Let me tell you something,” he says against your forehead. “I am not...a good person. I’ve done a lot of bad shit, and I will keep doing so. But if you come with me, I promise I will keep you safe.”

“I-.”

“Be mine,” he says. It sounds like a command until he adds a 'please', almost as an afterthought. “I don’t understand why you keep fighting, but I know you want me, even if part of you doesn’t know it yet.”

You let out a loud sigh; you’re tired of fighting with yourself. You review your options; go willingly or go by force. If you know one thing is that he won’t let you go. Quite possibly never. If you’re honest with yourself, a part of you doesn’t want him to. You don’t even know which one of you is talking; the human or the beast? Does it even make a difference?

You don’t think it does. Not anymore.

You raise your head to lock eyes with him. You can see hope in his gaze, but you also see determination and desire. You’re his now. And he’s yours.

“Okay,” you finally say. His eyes spark with something akin to satisfaction. “I’ll go with you. But I have some rules.”

He smirks, teeth spotted with blood, and you wonder for a moment if you made the right choice. “Sure,” he says. As long as you’re mine.” 

Next Chapter

[more-than-a-princess]

@dis--parity​ asked:  [ dog ] one muse approaches the other’s dog at a park // let's have Sonia meeting Theo's dog in public again!!

Second First meetings meme - No Longer Accepting!

It was a potential hazard, Sonia knew, to be out and about in a public park without her security's knowledge. But one wasn't a princess without experiencing two things: not balls and exquisite jewelry (though she had an abundance of both), but a day of meetings gone wrong and the subsequent ability to slip away from her staff undetected. Side-stepping about a dozen elementary school children, she pulled her hat further down over her blonde hair before tugging her coat tighter around her shoulders: between her coloring and her elegant clothes, it was easy for even a child to put two and two together and gawk (if she was lucky. If she wasn't, someone would actually recognize her and ask for a photo).

She grimaced, pausing to take a seat on an unoccupied bench. In the distance, she could hear some sort of enthusiastic, cheerful shouting, the sort that often accompanied an adrenaline rush and she rather wished she could join the revelry, whatever it happened to be. Instead, she'd spent an entire day in a series of meeting rooms with government officials as the various representatives from Novoselic to Japan defended her family's stance on visa and immigration policies, the princess allowed only to interject if they'd forgotten a key detail or anecdote. Mostly, she was present to be beautifully intimidating, the hope that a sweet smile from a young royal combined with an unrelenting drive to decimate lingering feelings of intolerance.

She exhaled heavily. Despite her fatigue, her manners did not allow for her to lean against the back of the bench. Nearly twenty-five years old and she needed to solve problems centuries in the making...it hardly seemed fair, but a royal life wasn't exactly a charmed one. If she trusted someone, she'd be the first to tell them as such. But at present, she had the very rare chance for solitude, and thus she kept her concerns to herself.

Or so she thought: it hadn't been five minutes when she felt something...firm, yet furry, brush against her knee through her coat. Having closed her eyes just for a moment, she opened them to find a familiar square head, almond-shaped eyes, and a rapidly wagging tail. This dog...she'd seen it before: its friendliness went beyond the normal welcoming attitude that most well-raised and adapted canines had, or so she'd learned in high school. This dog recognized her, though it was hardly for the title she bore. Instead, it sniffed at her empty hand, seeking out a pet, or a treat, or possibly both.

"You are...that dog from the bakery, are you not?" She greeted it brightly. It was, for now, the brightest spot in her day. Sonia obliged the furry acquaintance, reaching up to give it a few friendly pets and scratches, the dog's floppy ears swaying in delight as her fingers moved behind them to reach all of the itchy spots it could not. "I hope you are not here alone! It can be frightening to be on one's own, even if it is a desired change of pace. It is much better to spend your time in the company of friends."

Getting to her feet once again, she moved to check its neck for a collar or any other identifying information, just in case the owner wasn't near. If it really was lost, a trip to a police station was in order...but that would result in a royal mess of trouble. For her, not the dog, Sonia realized as she gave the canine a reassuring smile. She couldn't remember the exact hours, but she guessed the bakery where they'd originally met had long since closed for the day. The station would have to be the best bet: even the Princess of Novoselic couldn't hide a dog that size in her condo.

[nvrcmplt]

//. @distopea​ He was finishing removing his latex gloves when he heard another car parking near the crime scene. Tonight, Gambit had been directly involved in the dark event of the night, simply because he actually had a very bad impression of the guy his team was supposed to kill. He was a cocky asshole, with arrogant dreams, and he had already stated more than once that the Cleaners were nothing to worry about, some little yobbos that were harmless. Gambit had wanted him to understand his mistake… He couldn’t forgive those who were too shallow and neglectful to recognize the supremacy of his gang over their territory. He had been a bit brutal… Animalistic even. The poor man was beyond recognizable and the crime scene was nothing but scattered pieces of bloody meat everywhere.

“Gambit, the Russian cleaner is here.” Someone said behind his back. He had expected Requiem to be the one showing up first, but in his state of morbid excitement, Gambit felt suddenly overly happy. “Oh!” He smiled like a teenage boy, pushed his glasses back onto his nose and turned around. He was covered in blood, still wearing a long plastic and transparent coat to protect his clothes from any stain. It would be a shame to ruin such a beautiful Dolce Gabbana suit after all. He moved away from the smashed pile of organs and broken bones, right to the entrance of the warehouse.

“Bones! You’re early!” Gambit smiled even more, so gently, features still covered in blood and other fluids. He loved Maxim’s presence for sure, but he was also an incredible fan of his work. He didn’t resist the need to come forward, invading his personal space, but then, he noticed he was still pretty dirty. “I’m sorry, I have my head in the clouds.” He chuckled, wondering if Maxim would have been comfortable being kissed in front of everyone after all. “Oh Maxim, dear… I accidentally smashed his brain too. I know you don’t like it… But he provoked me a little bit.” He sighed and eventually clicked his fingers. A man stepped out of the car and rushed to him with a cup of latte.

“I’ll pay double if you need. Take your time there.” He paused, cocked his head aside. He felt romantic. “Want some breakfast by the sea once you’re done?”

It was exhausting, his job at times --- this week has been pretty hectic, not only trying to legally get a bloody visa sorted out due his country going to shit and the pay here being worth the dip. He also trying to destroy Russian connections to remain a free man. He liked Gambit a little too much one could say but his brother knew him best. Obsession ran in their family, a little morbid love was a mere stones throw for the duo. Oleg's found his person --- Maxim was finding his now. Well, found.

So when he was woken up three hours into a deep sleep - he was a grumbling mess of a man as he stood from his bedding and headed for the shower. Tugging on thermal wear after he was finished and then his cleaning overalls on top. More like a hazmat suit but with a touch of fashion. Everything after this job would be burned away but for now - as he gathered keys, bleaches, brushes and scrubbers that any industrial cleaner needed to hide in the open - he was on his way to the van below. Tucking things away - tarp and ropes, a few zip ties, a pressure washer was his latest love in the business to use - thus - within forty-five minutes, he was on the road.

Alert from trained habits to not be exhausted at the wheel and at the job he was going for - he hummed upon pulling into the place guided by one or two suits. Climbing out the van with a stretch of arms above his head, he followed another duo to finally spot the mess of a monsters attack. That monster being his own Gambit. He looked terribly sexy a little messed up like that. "Money-man! You been busy!" Tiredness in his bones oozed aside though upon spying the latte - reaching to snag it as soon as it got close and swallowed a scolding mouthful with a heavy steam exhale to warm his nose back up. "Nyet, nyet - for you, free of charge." Brain matter splatter was a bitch indeed, but he's already spied several drains nearby - his pressure washer was going to be amazing at this.

Still, he stepped closer to the scene, staring up at his lover with eyes a sparkle as the sight of red on his skin. He didn't hesitate after that either to tug Gambit by his shirt for a quick kiss - even a lick to clean off the blood and sweat nearest his lips to swallow down with a shudder. "Very sexy in red, Money-man." He informed, swallowing another mouthful of the latte down with a heated hum and handing it to Gambit to finish. "Breakfast sounds good. I think waffles - lots of toppings." A sugary treat after a early morning shift? Of course. It was even better with Gambit here.

"I get started - I'll make solution to wash shoes in, give thorough scrub to remove all blood splatter. Even if you think you haven't been near it, clean 'em." He stated once more, stepping back from the massacre of human and opened up the back of his van with flourish as he hopped on instead and tucked his hair away into a beanie and then pulled his hood over the top to fasten down with a facemask. Chemicals were just so fun to play with --- specially acid washes. A large tray was placed down at the foot of the van by the back wheel - poured into it was an unnamed bottle of something and then another something - then finally another to which he pointed at the nearest being. "Shoes in." He then placed down a long stick sponge. "Don't get on hands, will melt skin." A smirk behind his mask but he did place a box of gloves on the metal step to then return inside the vehicle.

A barrel tank and nozzle in hand was taken out next, hopping down to place them on the floor near a manhole to return to van with for tarp roll, ropes and a personalized bone saws. A headset and a large UV light, he stepped back into the warehouse with his things seemingly like a happy gold digger after a shopping spree to stand before Gambit again. "Strip for me, pretty boy." He did look the man up and down, winking - as he placed his items aside to tug out a large zip up bag to hold open. It was a good idea wearing a raincoat looking thing, he's seen them around but he hasn't found anything better than his own suits for cleaning up. He might try it though one day - maybe in the butcher shop.

Once he had Gambit spotless, rubbing over his hands and nails in wipes and a gentle solution - he moved to clean the man's face, glasses and even his hair to make sure nothing was left behind on his being. Making sure to fuss over every part of him before rewarding the man with a hearty kiss with a slither of tongue and nipping at his lips to finally release the busy man. "Go wait in car, it too cold for you out here." Now a mother-hen, Maxim ushered the spotless man out to the car. Once he had his obsession inside the vehicle - he switched off the happy-go-lucky persona. Snatching up his bone saws and taking quick strides to the body left behind to start cutting it apart.

Joints first, one by one, he devoured the body with swift strength - tugging feet, shins, thighs, hips, hand, forearm and bicep... The smell was delicious but the knowledge that this man offended what was his? It was a rotten one. Thus, he took his time slicing through neck at an angle to dislocate skull from spine and easily cut the rest of it off. Standing a smeary mess of red, he took his time to unwrap his tarp sheets and ready his rope, to proceed in packaging every piece up like it was a day of Christmas cheer. Away, piece by piece - the body no longer held a resemblance to human. Just - parts. The last piece to wrapped up was the mush of a skull. Maxim had to use a metal brush on the floor, scrapping everything back towards himself, a wide circle at that. Down the wall, in the corners and lines of floor meeting wall, as far as his arm could reach.

That along took him an hour to feel satisfied. Rolling it up into a ball, and squishing it into the tarp followed by the cracked cranium, he took minutes to wrap it nicely and placed it with the rest. At this point, it was easier to re-wrap everything into twos. Then another into threes. Then finally all together so it looked like an amazon package for a large suitcase. Not a speck of what it was on the outside, just a block of tarp wrapping. And with each wrapping, Maxim changed his gloves. Rolling the block to a safe space and grabbing up the pressure washer with a homemade solution, he got to work.

A rapid rinse, a heavier rinse, a quick rinse - then finally the more therapeutic wash. The sharp wash - in which the liquid cut through the stains left under the washed aside residue and grime built up over the years in the warehouse floor. Maxim didn't stop at the sight of death either - no. To make it spotless, he ended up doing the whole fucking groundwork. Nothing shouted 'this place was cleaned to hide something' than just a singular cleaned area - so within the next two hours - Maxim finally stood in the nude, bagging his hazmat suit as he stood in a solution to clean his shoes in.

Sighing out from the heavy work out - sweating a storm in his thermals but humming slowly out of his trance of cleaning habits. The last thing he did was gather up the UV light and turn it off to show that nothing - not a speck of blue light was left behind. Stretching his arms above his head and grabbing his change of clothes from his van, he tugged everything on to finally ruffle his hair free from beanie and tossed that into his vehicle with a wave towards Gambit's car. "Finished! Come see!" Though he no doubt believed Gambit watched him hours ago too.

"I suggest let homeless come in, they make natural mess - don't ask questions if you give drug and booze." He noted, since it was a warehouse, it was a bit too clean now but naturally - the best mess was the right mess. "I'll go rid of package then we meet up for breakfast?" Excited, he was.

[ddarker-dreams]

Pandora’s Box. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Medicine mention, descriptions of anxiety, and implied minor character death. Word count: 2.7k.

A simple plan is the best kind to have. 

The less variables at play, the higher your rates of success are. You’ve anticipated some margin of error, a safety net of sorts, to be used if necessary. Everything within your realm of influence has been taken into account. Your friend in a car meeting you at a dead spot, a train ticket purchased with a prepaid visa card on a VPN, and a few precious pieces of jewelry to be pawned off at a later time. Scraping these assets together is a commendable feat, having to skulk around to make it this far.

Nothing feels out of the ordinary, you think. Your preparations are almost complete. All that’s left is to wait to ensure the beast in hiding cannot come for you.

Prayer doesn’t traditionally feel worth the effort -- any god that’d allow you to be subjugated to a hell such as this is no god worth pleading to -- but tonight is different. Tonight you pray to any deity that may spare you some pity, that this plan may succeed without a hitch. The time signals the beginning of the next phase, the most vital aspect. 

Tonight’s soup had an additional ingredient, a generous helping of sleep inducing pills. To avoid suspicion, you partook in the meal as usual, hoping to cancel out the effects later by ingesting a gratuitous amount of energy drinks. It served the original purpose of fending off fatigue, but not without presenting a unique set of problems of its own. The caffeine has served to heighten your anxiety, upping what was already a nerve-wracking experience to a new level. 

Your guts feeling like they’re rearranging themselves, your body not capable of forgoing fidgeting a single moment. No longer can you tell if it’s nausea, stomach pain, or hyperventilation. Maybe it’s everything at once. All you know is that you’ve never had your body working against you more than now. Every nerve is frayed, your senses on high alert to any shadow or noise.

Deep breaths no longer bring you reprieve. Each raggedy breath you manage to squeeze out is an accomplishment, overshadowed by the fear that he might hear you. How irrational a thought, that Chrollo would be capable of picking up on the differences in your breathing from afar. It doesn’t matter how illogical the worry may be. With Chrollo, you’ve learned that nothing is impossible. To expect the unexpected has been the mantra of your mind these past few months. 

Just a bit longer... I need to know he’s asleep for sure. Or else it’s over.

Your foot taps against the ground in a frantic rhythm, ears ringing like funeral tolls. The last time you dared peak into your shared room with Chrollo, he was supposedly fast asleep, out like a light. What should’ve been a cause for victory brought nothing but a fresh wave of dread. A guessing game ensues. Trying to decipher his body language from earlier for hints only serves to make you feel worse. You’ve been so cautious, walking on sheets of thin ice at every move. Chrollo hadn’t acted out of the ordinary to your knowledge. Not that he has a way of acting ‘ordinary’ anyways, your limited understanding of his person having to suffice. 

Should everything be going according to your design, your friend will be in position to pick you up. There’s no more stalling, the point of return ahead of you.

It’s time.

You do a final check over your mental checklist. Your backpack is stocked with the necessities: toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a filtered hydro flask, non perishable foods and your train ticket. To any onlooker it might look like you’re going hiking. Sporting worn sneakers, loose-fitting clothes, and having your hair pulled away from your face. This is really it. The culmination of sneaking around behind Chrollo’s back for months, unfolding before your very eyes. Everything is falling into place as it’s meant to.

You walk to the door. 

Each step you take is quiet as can be. Every shuffle of clothes, or the slightest of creaks from the floorboards, causes you to wince and pause. This penthouse has served as your personal circle of hell for months on end, the walls absorbing your cries and screams. You despise this place with every fiber of your being. The antique décor, the ancient texts that lay strewn about, the scent of sandalwood that you find nauseating. 

Ghosts of the past return to haunt you as you walk through different areas. Swirling around your head, they threaten to consume you, chipping away at your resolve. His hypnotic voice resonates in your mind like whispers of the serpent in the garden, tempting you. Weighing you down. Not even your own mind is a safe haven from his speech that disguises itself as flowery, when the reality is far more sinister. Chrollo’s words are constricting vines, lined with thorns, embedding themselves deeper into your flesh the harder you try to pry them out. 

“Don’t you remember how difficult your life was before me?” 

Another step.

“All those people who left you, who took advantage of you?” 

Your hands shake around your small, homemade EMP. It’s made from spare parts you managed to find around the penthouse, clumsily assembled through trial and error. The pulse it emits is next to nothing. Copper coils threaten to fall loose at any second when you raise it to the security system by the door. Holding your breath, you press down on the trigger. The device lets out rapid clicking sounds, the security monitor flickering before going blank. 

“I know you’ll come around.” 

Finally, come the excessive locks on the door. The compressed air you said you needed for cleaning is next up. The can is cool against your trembling fingers, white specs decorating the locks as you spray them over. With some persistence, they come undone, one after the other. Unshackling you from the depths. You open the door that’s mocked you relentlessly for months, withholding your prized freedom. 

“But even in the event that you don’t...” 

The surrounding world is a blur of colors. Your eyes don’t focus on any object for too long, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. It feels as if your stomach is in your throat when the elevator starts its descent. He had you up on the fiftieth floor? 

You fixate on the screen, numbers not flashing by fast enough for your liking.

40. 

20.

5. 

1.

“Well. There are always ways of overcoming inconveniences such as that.” 

It’s an extravagant lobby. Far more luxurious than you could ever have hoped to afford, this building being one of the most exclusive in Yorknew. The person at the front desk calls out and you ignore it. You must look mighty suspicious, not that you care. The priority now is escape. Running out the revolving door, crisp autumn air greets you. You’ve never felt more grateful for the bustling streets of the city. Even at night the city remains awake, making it easier to blend in. No one out here spares you a second glance as you weave in and out of fast paced crowds. 

23rd street. That’s where you’ll meet up with your friend, who will then transport you to the subway. Glancing up at the signposts, you realize you’ll be in for some walking. There’s no letting your guard down. Constantly looking over your shoulder, all you see are the faces of strangers. You’ve never felt so grateful to be a part of a crowd. 

Finally, after walking for what feels like an eternity, you spot your beacon of hope. A clothing store’s bright neon sign, which your friend sits parked in front of. Since these stores are closed this time of day, the crowd that once surrounded you have thinned out, yet you try not to fixate on the lack of cover. Jay walking across the street doesn’t prove to be an issue. The pollution from the city hides the stars behind a layer of smog, streetlamps your lone source of light.

Heart hammering in your chest, you tap on the window of her car with urgency. “Amelia, it’s me. [First].” 

You hear the doors unlock. 

Taking it as a sign she heard you, you waste no time swinging into the passenger seat of the car. Amelia immediately turns the keys, car humming to life. Your chest heaves with exhaustion from the draining events. This is it. The second to last step before you reclaim your freedom. It’s almost like a dream, the light at the end of a long tunnel. Amelia’s appearance is just as you recalled it. Hazel eyes, tan skin, long black hair, and an average build. Your heart leaps at the sight of her.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” your friend confesses in a hushed whisper. “[First], what... what happened? You completely fell off the face of the Earth for months. Then you contact me out of nowhere? What’s going on?” 

It isn’t easy meeting her eyes, so you don’t. “I... I don’t know if it’s safe to talk about it. The less you know, the better.”

She takes a moment to assess you before sighing. “Alright, I can tell this is serious. Just... I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Amelia begins driving without another word. Silence hangs in the air, offering a time to reflect. Your plan, Chrollo, what you’ll do next... it whirls around your head like a vortex. A gut feeling refuses to leave you alone whenever you picture his face. A dreadful thought that this entire escapade was too easy. Is it just your paranoia? It could very well be. Hugging your backpack closer to you for comfort, you’re startled by Amelia suddenly speaking up.

“The subway station, huh,” she reminiscences aloud, eyes flickering from the road to you. “So you’re leaving Yorknew?” 

There’s no way to continue dodging her questions. “... Yeah, I am.” 

“Where are you going?” 

It’s natural she’d have lots of questions. Had the situation been reversed, you’d have plenty of your own. For her wellbeing you don’t want to indulge more than necessary. Lying to someone who is helping you lives a sour taste in your mouth. It’s for her sake, you remind yourself. Having to involve Amelia in this at all was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“I’m going to Zaban City. I have some extended family there.” 

Amelia hums in confirmation to your story. “Your cousin, right?” 

“Right.” 

She stops pressing that particular subject, likely sensing your apprehension. You take advantage of the peaceful atmosphere and close your eyes. The sleeping pills from earlier are starting to grow more prominent. Losing consciousness is the last thing you need right now, but indulging in some much needed rest sounds too inviting. 

“There was something else I was wondering about.” Amelia starts, earning your attention. Looks like sleep will have to wait for later. You yawn, stretching your weary limbs, and wait for her to continue. She smiles, dark eyelashes fluttering shut in deep thought.

“Oh, sweet [First],” she whispers your name in the gentlest of tones, and looks over at you. “Why are you so selfish?” 

You blink, the words not settling in immediately. “What...?” 

She continues without missing a beat. “You used to be so envious of me. Always pretending to play nice, because you were too passive to say how you really felt. How you hated me.” 

“Amelia? What are you talking about? I... I never hated you, what--” 

“Even now you can’t bring yourself to admit the truth,” she sighs. “Not that I’m surprised. You’ve always cared way too much about what people think. Why would now be any different?” 

Her unexpected attack on your character has you shifting in your seat. Every word that leaves her lips is in her voice, yet feels so different than her normal character. Did something happen in the time Chrollo took you away? Anxiety rears its ugly head at the line of questioning. You take a sudden interest in your fingers, playing with them on your lap. 

“I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.” You admit, eyebrows furrowing together. The shift in atmosphere is tangible. What was once a warm reunion under stressful times has corrupted into a frosty confrontation. These insecurities of hers that laid dormant in your heart... why is she bringing this up now? In your most vulnerable hour? Nothing is making sense. These ugly feelings of yours were only ever confided in one person. 

“You knew it’d be a danger to my life to contact me. You knew that, and still you did it all the same. I wonder why that is. Could it be... that you wouldn’t care if I died? If I was tortured for aiding your escape?” 

Your heart drops. This knowledge... how can she know any of this? Amelia used the word escape, clear as day. Is that a coincidence? You look over at the car door, seeing it’s locked. Something’s not right here, you deduce. I don’t know what it is exactly, but something is very wrong...! 

She continues on. “I really do want to know what your justification for this is. Out of everyone you could’ve picked for help, you specifically chose me, knowing the danger it’d bring. Did you think I’d be spared in some sort of miracle?” 

The spare moonlight streaming in illuminates Amelia’s face, highlighting how pale her skin looks. Veins that would normally not have been so prominent have a blue tint, her lips a similar shade. Your eyes drop to the unnaturally large scarf that surrounds her neck. It’s not that cold out yet, why is she wearing something so cumbersome? Reaching out with unsteady hands, you pull the fabric back. Your gut feels like it’s been punched at the sight, eyes widening in horror. 

On the back of her neck is an antenna, with bat wings on the end. 

Shit! Shit, shit, shit-- 

In a frenzy, you stretch forward, searching for the button to unlock the car door. The second you find it, it’s pressed, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. You hear her speaking up again. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from your chest as you jump out the car, grateful it isn’t going too fast. Skin meeting asphalt, you hiss at the pain, rolling onto your side. None of that matters now. How did he do it? He has to be nearby, maybe you can still make it to the station in time. Your head hurts from the impact, legs wobbling like jelly. 

It’s difficult to focus. You grit your teeth, utilizing the remnants of your strength to get to your knees. Why did the caffeine have to wear off so soon...? It was going so well. You finally had your chance, your time to take back your life. To go back to how things were. Struggling to get to your feet, you throw your backpack off, praying the lost weight will help you get up. 

“You never answered my questions,” calls a deeper voice. You gulp back acidic bile as a hand is extended in front of you. “I was hoping you would.” 

Your head hangs down. It’s over. For a transgression such as this, you imagine you’re in for quite the punishment. How funny a thing fate is. Similar to streams of rushing water, there are many twists and turns, leading you down paths you never wanted to go. Fingernails dig into the sensitive flesh of your palms, the pain anchoring your wandering mind to reality. All other parts of your body have lost feeling. Numbness is what you’ve come to know. 

The devil incarnate bends over, taking your tearstained face into his fingers, and lifting it to meet his eyes. An abyss of grey stares back at you, devoid of humanity. Taking pleasure in besting you yet again. Disappointment is mixed within an interest to see what you’ll do next. There’s no smile on his face as you’ve come to expect. You see an empty shell of a man glowering down at you, from a place just out of reach. 

“I can’t say I’m too pleased about this, [First]. We’ll need to have a long discussion, don’t you think?” 

[winter-fox-queen]

Albatross

Summary:  Frankie wants to give you your dream vacation, but he’s not sure if it is worth the price.  

Warnings:  Female reader.  (He calls her his girl, and she wears a skirt in one scene.)  Angst.  No smut.  I thought I would finally write smut, this was going to be a very different story where they were AT the place already, but.  No.  Angst with a nice ending because I can't leave Frankie to suffer too long.

Thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog -- you are awesome and this picture is lovely.  

1,870 words.

Frankie didn’t lie to you.  Not about this, at least.

Well.

Not really.  He was working extra, taking extra shifts.  Except for right now.  Right now, he was in a cabin in the middle of a state forest, one of the very few things he’d bought with the money.  A place to hide.  To be at peace.

It was not working. The money felt like a weight. Half of each share had gone to Redfly’s family.  Half had gone to each man.  He’d hoped for freedom.  This was anything but.

I shouldn’t have hidden it in the cabin.  He once watched a TV show about Escobar, seen that one of the caches of money he’d hidden outside had gotten moldy.  So Frankie had gone into the cellar.  Dug up a section of the dirt floor.  Made a proper hiding place, kneeling in the dirt, mixing up quickcrete and placing stones until the cellar was paved in with stone pavers.  Three were loose.  Only one had a reinforced box with another box and a bunch of money that could change his life but he can’t even look you in the eye and explain that he has it.

So here he was, sitting on the weathered wood bench in front of the cabin you did not even know he owned, resting his cheek on his fist, looking at the cabin of his damned dreams like it was a haunted death trap from a B horror movie.

He signed, grabbed the magazine he’d dropped on the ground earlier, flipping it to an article you’d been sighing over when you thought he wasn’t looking.  The ultimate romantic getaway, with tiled pools and greenery and luxurious accommodations and candlelight dinners.  

“That’s pretty,” he’d said over your shoulder as you looked at the main picture of the article, a swimming pool tiled and beautiful – all Middle East and mysterious looking, making you think of romance and beauty.  

“I love it,”  you admit.  “I’d never get to go…but it is beautiful.  Have to win the lottery.”  She grinned at him.

He looked it up online, curious.  Frankie the pilot/mechanic couldn’t afford it.  Not even with extra shifts and only one beer on Fridays and watching every penny.

The other Frankie could.

So that was why he found himself in the cellar.  If you knew which paver it was to start from, and which direction to go, it was just a knight chess move, probably obvious and stupid, but he did not trust himself to remember any other way.  He pried it up carefully so not to scratch the stone and give away the hiding place.

He stared at the hole. The carefully wrapped money.  He fumbled for his phone, and by some miracle the call went through.

“Hey Frankie.”  Pope’s voice sounded tired, but warm.  Not quite there.

“If you really, really love someone, is it OK to lie to them?”

Pope didn’t think before he replied.  “Of course not.”

“If you really, really love someone and want to do something to make them happy, is it OK to lie about where you got the money for it?”

That stopped Pope. Pope, instead of being split focused was now, 100%, listening.  “Frankie…”

Frankie, waiting, crouching by the hidden safe, phone to one ear, other hand relaxed on his knee. Waiting.  Frankie was very good at waiting.

Pope sputtered a little, tried to think of what to say.  Finally. “Yeah, Frankie.  It’s OK.”

It’s what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t the truth and he knew it.  “I’ve never loved anyone like I love her.  I’ve never wanted anything in my life like I want her, want her happiness. But there’s this whole chunk of my life that she doesn’t even know about.  I look at this damned cabin and I think, she’d love it up here.  Her car broke down and she needed to buy a new one, and I could have bought her a fucking car so she wouldn’t have to worry about payments.”

“I know,”  Pope muttered, but Frankie is on a roll.  

“And the one damned thing I’ve ever seen her really, really want and it’s this damned vacation and I can give it to her.  I can fucking pay for it, but if she finds out how it’ll ruin everything.  She won’t be able to enjoy it.  The memory will be ruined.  I can’t fucking win.  What good is it, if I have this, and I can’t even use a little of it to make my girl happy?”

Pope, picking words, both because he’s not sure what to tell Franlie and because he is paranoid about anyone (doubtful) listening in.  “Maybe…maybe that is the good.  You can’t…make it better, right?  But you can…clean it.  Make good memories for your girl.  Do good things for the people you love.”  Pope sighed. “I can’t…I can’t bear it, either, you know?  I save it for a rainy day, but…”

“I didn’t think the guilt would last so long,”  Frankie said.

“No.”

“Maybe I should tell her.”

A pause.  “I can’t think of any way to tell that story without things going to shit.”

“I don’t like lying to her.”

“No.”  Another pause.  “Please don’t tell her unless you know you can trust her.”

“She won’t blab.” Frankie glared at the phone.

“Don’t get insulted on her behalf.  Everyone you love could get hurt…including her.”

Guilt seized his heart so hard he wondered if he was going to have a heart attack, right there.

“You OK, man?”

“Yeah.  Yeah.”  He said through numb feeling lips.  “I’m ok.”

He slipped his phone in his pocket, reached in, and took what he thought he could use, and carefully hid everything again.

Then he got very devious.

You can put up to 15,000 on a prepaid Visa gift card.  He went to a place where people were smart enough not to ask questions, or even care. One of those places where you want to wash your clothes after you leave.

Then he called the resort. “Look, I have these friends…” he said, “I want to treat them, but they can’t know who I am…”  The prepaid card was as good as a credit card.

And then he went home, and waited for you to check your email.  Sweating.  

And, obscurely, jealous of himself.  Super fucking jealous of himself, the more he thought about it.  Like, he hated the mysterious benefactor who was about to make the love of his life so happy.

He wanted to be the one. Wanted your eyes to light up and know it was because he’d been able to provide for you, he’d been able to make this happen.  He closed his eyes and swallowed it.  It was stupid and selfish…what did it matter, who got the credit as long as you got this? As long as it made you happy? Frankie would be there, seeing your smile when you stood next to that glorious tiled pool, watch you dabble your toes shyly in the water, as if to ask, can I really have this?

And it did.

“Frankie!”  You came in, sat on his lap.  Your arms were warm around him, you made a soft and perfect armful as he wrapped himself around you, let your lips peck happy kisses all over his face.

“What is it, baby?”  

You pull back.  “You know.  The trip.”

Frankie raises his eyebrows, all innocence, starts to protest, but you silence him with another kiss.

“I know, baby, who loves me enough to put so much effort into planning things like this.  The surprise is nice, but you know I’m not dumb.” You toss aside his cap and run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently, and Frankie sighs softly, his eyes shutting a little.  He opens them again when your hands cup his cheeks.  

You look very serious. And a little sad.  Which hits his Oh Shit button, hard.

“You didn’t have to go to all this effort, baby.  You really didn’t.”

“Well, I…”  he tried to think of something to say, but settled for, “I love you.  I love you so much, you don’t even…”

This earns him a kiss on the forehead.  Then you say, “I know how you got the money.” And his blood runs cold.  Before he could marshal some sort of reply, you continue, “Come on, Cat.  Long hours. Extra shifts?  I know that the people down at the field are not the most upstanding of people.  But…baby, it’s so dangerous.”

It doesn’t take him much to put the pieces together.  “You think I’m running drugs?”  It comes out as an incredulous squeak.

You nod.  “It makes sense.  This dream – literally a dream vacation – is not cheap.  And I never expected it.  You know that?  I enjoyed day dreaming about going with you because I love you and I want to take you all over the world…”  You sigh. “I just want to see the beautiful things of this world through your eyes.”

This time, Frankie does the silencing, with a gently thumb over your lips.  “Sweetheart, I didn’t…”

You kiss the pad of his thumb.  “You gonna try and tell me this money came on the up and up?  Baby, I know how much you make.”

You look at each other for a long moment.  You, work skirt hiked up so you can straddle his thighs, sitting closer to his knees,  Frankie, his hands gentle on your hips so you don’t fall.

“I could tell you,” he says, softly.  The words running underneath But I don’t want to and you might not like it.

You are sharp.  That’s one of the things he likes about you, how much you see.  It’s also one of the things that scares him the most.  Finally, “Are you in danger?”

Frankie shakes his head, once.  

“Is it…is it the reason why sometimes you get so sad?”

One nod.  A little smile.  He watches you digest this.  Make a decision.  

The delicate hands come up to frame his face again.  You look him right in the eyes.  “You are a good man.  I don’t know what happened, and maybe, someday, you can tell me.  But you are good and kind and I love you.”  And you kiss him again, this time so fiercely that his thinks it’s going to bruise, and he’s fine with that.

You lean back again.  “Humph.  Well. If you’d not already paid for it, I’d probably save the money to pay on the car.”

“No take backs.”  He grins despite himself.  

“Rats.”  You grin back.  Slide off his lap.  “Now to call Darla and see when I can take off, and then we are buying you a new swim suit.”  You bounce on your feet, then turn to go for your phone.

Frankie leans back against the cushions with a groan.  “I do not need…”

You peek around the doorframe.  “You are not going to a five star resort in purple swim trunks with catfish on them!”

“They were a present!” he calls after your retreating form, and grins at the ceiling.

It’s going to be alright, he thinks, feeling lighter.  It’s going to be alright.