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Madeline's over at Theo's waiting for Alex to arrive. They'd been talking for a while, on that new-fangled phone that Theo had bought for her, and Madeline has some feelings she needs to work through. But, as unprepared and underwhelming as she perceives herself to be, she's determined to talk to Alex in person. And hopefully work through some of those feelings, if she can muster the ability to do so.
Theo is in on it.Bookmarked by zzzk8rrt
04 Jun 2026
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"There we go." Charlie whispered behind her ear, her hand sliding up, gently cupping Vaggie's breast, blissfully unaware. She pressed her hips down, slightly grinding against Vaggie's body from behind, trying to find a rhythm.
Flash.
It wasn't Charlie's warm body. It was the crushing weight of a boot pinning her spine, and the violent tear of hands ripping her wings from the bone.
(or, a moment of intimacy went wrong.)
Series
- Part 3 of Love in Hell
Bookmarked by zzzk8rrt
23 Dec 2025
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"Muffling a bloodied cough, Elliot goes to peek around the turn… only to be met with the shuffling of silhouettes, and the gaze of a discarded bauble-helm. "
har·ri·er
/ˈherēər/ • noun
a person who engages in persistent attacks on others or incursions into their land.
Bookmarked by zzzk8rrt
05 Nov 2025
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Sophie has a midnight breakdown a couple nights after playing BunnyFarm. Now, after days of refusal of taking her pills, she’s felt herself be more emotional, and lets herself cry after all these years of emotional numbness. Right into Jenny’s arms.
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Years passed without a second glance.
They left Sophie Walten broken; beyond disrepair. So far gone that she needed medication just to help her forget. Forget what happened all those years ago. Those years which passed her by without a chance to properly say goodbye.
But Sophie had time. Time to piece herself back together just enough to where she wouldn't fall apart all over again. With Jenny by her side there wasn't a damn thing that wasn't possible.
One other had the years pass him by as well. His mind slowly deteriorating. Giving way to a part of him that longed for violence. And oh how he had bided his time. Now it was his turn and he would get his checkmate.
A third stewed in his own guilt. Drowning in a sense of sorrow like no other in the world. And while he was so very sorry, nothing could undo what was done. The past was dead and gone. Even though sometimes it reanimated. Lost and meandering, searching for a benefactor.
That was life.
Bookmarked by zzzk8rrt
03 May 2025