#Actual number 001

[omniliquid]

OmniLiquid's Church of Discordia: Sermon #666

So, I've been thinking, and drinking, and there's a thing that's been on my mind lately, so it's time for one of OmniLiquid's infamous mostly unnoticed rambly drunken rants about the failures of capitalism on a basic fundamental level that will undoubtedly devolve into a profanity-laden enraged scream into the void, but we'll burn that police station when we get to it.

But the topic for today's sermon in this church of Discordia (all hail Discordia, praise Eris) for which I am the most important pope, naturally, is the fundamental meaning of what it means for something to be a social construct. Listen up folks, this is important shit. This is, in essence, at the core of much magic.

I will begin, as I often do, with a thought experiment, and I will borrow the language (and you may use the voice in your internal reading) of Ben Shapiro, because it is funny to me (I am pretty sure Ben is smart enough to not make this argument, so don't attribute it to him, that would be strawmanning. I am taking the most naive and facetious possible take on economics here, and his voice happens to be my first thought, as a mere coincidence).

"Let's say, for the sake of argument, let's say that there are only two countries, and one of those countries, call it America, is amazing and has a bunch of gold in the ground so they can produce 10 trillion dollars worth of gold or, because the gold makes farming harder, they can produce 1 trillion dollars worth of corn. And let's say the only other country, call it South America, has no minerals in their soil but it's great for growing crops so they can produce 10 trillion dollars worth of crops or they can be lazy and produce only 1 trillion dollars of, like, crafts and stuff that gets sold on etsy. Wouldn't it be best if America focused their efforts on gold and produced 10 trillion dollars worth of gold and South America focused their efforts and produced 10 trillion dollars worth of food and they traded 5 trillion of each so both countries had way more than they could have had otherwise?"

And, yes, I am going to very much take down this strawman, but bear with me, because I am not aiming for the strawman. Like Batman, I am going to aim past the scarecrow and pull the wall down on it from behind. Save your questions to the end, folks, I can't hear them until after I post this anyway because that is how time works (maybe make a note of them, though).

So the first obvious question is, hey Mr. Strawman, what happens when something restricts trade, like if there's a blockade by the trade federation, the Evergreen gets stuck in a canal, or orcas declare war on shipping routes? Won't America just starve if all they have is gold and won't South America's food surplus go to waste and wouldn't this trade arrangement be dumb anyway because without Discordian and witchcraft-related crafts on Etsy the market is just a bland deluge of corporate excess? And yes, that is a very good point and that's where you might expect Batman's grapnel shot to connect and your expecting the absolute shock of Batman just straight up shooting the strawman with one o his tools and breaking his first rule, but no, it goes deeper, and the bards among you are overpowered indeed for seeing this coming and keep that up. Because the real question is, who decided that the 10 trillion dollars worth of gold and the 10 trillion dollars worth of food were equivalent (aside from me in coming up with the dumb argument).

Now we start to hit upon the thesis of this sermon: money is a social construct: what does that mean? I will now use another hypothetical. Suppose we only have two currencies, call US dollars and spicybucks. And suppose the exchange rate is a bit wonky so 1 dollar can be traded for 1 spicybuck and vice-versa for a negligible fee (if done in volume) but because of differences in regulations between countries, the work required to create a dollar worth of products in the US costs 0.95 dollars but the cost to create a dollar's worth of goods and ship it to the US in spicyland is 0.94 spicybucks and through the magic of hypotheticals this happens across every industry for every product and every service. What will be the result? This would be a short-circuit of the dollar, and every corporation would either buy all of their products and services in spiceland or they will be outcompeted by those who do, meaning workers in the US will be completely unable to find jobs , unable to buy anything, complete economic collapse, 100% deathrate in the US.

But this is FUCKING RIDICULOUS. Because if Spiceland didn't exist, the US would just create the products and services it needed and distribute them as normal. Spiceland is a kind of destructive spell that drains the economy, somehow. How? Why? We'll get to that. Maybe. Maybe we already did. Maybe we can only describe the features but not the thing itself. Maybe there's an amorphousness to magick and to experience and to everything, maybe the whole issue is that we are trying to get to the cores of things but there are no cores, just wibbly wobbly things. ALL IS LIQUID.

Quick aside, in Final Fantasy Tactics there is a stat called faith, which varies from 0 to 100, representing lore-wise the amount of belief the character has in the gods, but mechanically the effectiveness of any magical ability is multiplied as a percentage by the faith of the performer AND THE RECIEVER of the magick.

So getting back to the point, money is a social construct. It is a system of exchange rates that is agreed upon by some sort of consensus of the people we interact with and we just kind of agree that a loaf of bread is about a dollar and a two liter bottle of off brand soda is about half that and a modest house is about 50 to 100 thousand and a big mac is two but a double cheeseburger is 1 and rent for a studio or a 1-bedroom is about 350 *whispers from non-existent producer*....

...

...

And wages have gone up by an equal ratio, right?

[insert the Anakin and Pade meme if you aren't as lazy as me]

right?

...

Ok. How's civil unrest looking? High and growing? Goddessfuckingdamnedright it's high and growing, and it needs to be!

Don't people FUCKING GET IT! MONEY IS A FUCKING ILLUSION! GENDER IS A FUCKING ILLUSION! SURE, SEX HAS SOME REAL FUCKING IMPLICATIONS FOR REPRODUCTION BUT THAT ISN'T A FUCKING PROBLEM RIGHT NOW! PEOPLE SAY ELON MUSK HAS ENOUGH MONEY TO END WORLD HUNGER BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER IF HE TRANSFERS A BILLION DOLLARS TO A STARVING KID IN AFRICA'S BANK ACCOUNT THAT DOESN'T DO SHIT IF THE KID CAN'T GET FUCKING FOOD AND PROBABLY MEDICAL ATTENTION!

People act like money is this thing that can transmute itself into anything and it's sure easy to think that when your experience is driving to the store or ordering shit on Amazon with next day shipping, but money is not the philosopher's stone, it is a false stone, it has limitations, and excessive use degrades the soul. What matters is FUCKING MATERIAL CONDITIONS.

I think if you meditate on these truths and consult your pineal gland, you will gain deep knowledge, but I will add a few further remarks to aid in you meditation before expanding further and bringing in today's scripture.

There is no such thing as an illegal strike, only an unsuccessful one.

I don't recall the exact quote or who said it and I wish I could find it, but I saw someone quote it in a post once, and it was to the effect of: "When we go on strike, they will villainize us and lament that it came to such a terrible place, but don't let them fool you. When we go on strike, we are showing them grandmotherly kindness by not showing up on their doorstep with the guillotines at the ready."

Today's scripture comes from Illuminatus, near the beginning of the fourth trip, between Illuminati memo #16 and Illuminati memo #16 (not a typo) (extra-relevent passages (afaik) in pink, and shit that just resonates with me by syncronicity or otherwise in purple):

""They were using Mace now, and I saw one photographer snapping a picture of a cop while the cop was still Macing him (Heisenberg rides again! From out of the west come the thundering hooves of the great hearse, Joint Phenomenon! Except that I was on acid; if I'd been on weed, then it would really, royally, be a Joint Phenomenon). And I heard later that the photographer got an award for that shot. Right then, he didn't look like he was getting an award. He looked like they had just taken off his skin and touched each raw nerve with a dentist's drill. "Christ," I said to Hagbard, "look at that poor bastard. I hope I come out of this with just another teargassing or two. I don't want any of that Mace." But acid is placid, you know, and a minute later I was on Joyce's juices again and thinking of a drama called 'Their Mace and My Gripes." I made the first line fruity, in honor of Padre Pederastia: "What a botch of a pair to plumb this hour's gripes."

"Bism'allah," Hagbard said. "Our karma is made by our deeds, not by our prayers. You're on the set, so you take the action as it comes."

"Oh, cut out that Holy Man craperoo and stop reading

my mind," I protested. "You don't have to go on impressing me." But I was off on another tangent, which went something like this: If this set is Mayor Daley's circus, then Mayor Daley is the ringmaster. If the things below are the things above, as Hermes hermetically hinted, then this set is the bigger set. Mr. Microcosm, meet Mr. Macrocosm. "Hi, Mike!" "Hi, Mac." Conclusion: Mayor Daley, in a small way, is what Krishna is, in a large way. QED.

Just then some SDS kids who'd been teargassed across the street came running our way, and Hagbard got busy handing out wet handkerchiefs. They needed them: they were half-blind, like Joyce splitting his Adam into wise hopes. And I wasn't much help, because I was tod busy crying myself.

"Hagbard," I gasped in ecstasy. "Mayor Daley is Krishna."

"Worse luck for him," he said curtly, distributing the handkerchiefs. "He doesn't suspect it."

I thought, suddenly:

Hubert the Hump has coughed and hawked And spat on the streets that Lincoln walked

The water turned to blood (Hagbard was a joking jolting Jesus: you expected wine maybe?) and I remembered my mother's story about Dillinger at the Biograph. We all sit there, like him, in the Biograph Theatre, dreaming the drama of our lives, then walk outside to the grandmotherly kindness of the lead kisses that wake us back to our slipping beatitude. Except that he found a way to come back. What was it Charley Mordecai said: "First as tragedy, then as farce?" Marxism-Lennonism: Ed Sanders of the Fugs, the night before, talking about fucking in the streets as if he had read my mind (or had I read his?) and Lennon's "Why Don't We Do It in the Road" was recorded a year in the future. The Marx and our groupies. The bloody handkerchiefs dipped into water, or wine, and the mass rite went on, the mass went Right On, the Mace they rowed. Capone set it up for the Feds, but John was fed up and left the set, so an extra named Frank Sullivan got the bullets. The Autobiograph Theatre, a drama house and a trauma, yes. I maybe should have taken only half a

tab instead of the full 500 mikes, because at that point the SDS kids, all of them siding with RYM-I at the split next year, looked like they had altarboy robes on and I thought Hagbard was distributing communion wafers, not handkerchiefs. He looked at me, suddenly, with that hawk-faced Egyptian glare, and I observed that he had observed, Hopalong Horus Heisenberg, just where I was at You don't have to be a waterman, I thought, to know which way my mind is blowing.

There was a sound from the crowd, like a subway opening all its doors with a suck of air, and I saw the police coming, crossing the street to clear the park.

"Here we go again," I said. "All hail Discordia,"

"Snafu ueber alles," Hagbard grinned, starting to trot beside me.

We headed North, figuring that the ones who retreated eastward would get trapped against the wall and creamed. "Democracy in action," I said, panting along.

'There thou might'st behold the very image of Authority," he quoted, shifting his water bucket to keep it in balance. I caught the Shakespearean reference and looked back: my mind had already: each policeman indeed looked like Shakespeare's dog. I remembered the frantic semantics at the LBJ anti-birthday party, when Burroughs insisted Chicago Cops were more like dogs than pigs, in contradiction to the SDS rhetoric. Terry Southern, taking his usual maniacal middle course, claimed they were more akin to the purple-assed mandrill, most surly of the baboon family. But most of them hadn't discovered writing yet.

"Authority?" I asked, realizing I'd lost something along the way. We were slowing to a walk, the action was behind us.

"A is not A," Hagbard explained with that tiresome patience of his. "Once you accept A is A, you're hooked. Literally hooked, addicted to the System."

I caught the references to Aristotle, the old man of the tribe with his unfortunate epistemological paresis, and also to that feisty little lady I always imagine is really the lost Anastasia, but I still didn't grok. "What do you mean?" I asked, grabbing a wet handkerchief as some of the teargas started to drift to our end of the park.

"Chairman Mao didn't say half of it," Hagbard replied

holding a handkerchief to his own face. His words came through muffled: "It isn't only political power that grows out of the barrel of a gun. So does a whole definition of reality. A set. And the action that has to happen on that particular set and on none other."

"Don't be so bloody patronizing," I objected, looking around a corner in time and realizing this was the night I would be Maced. "That's just Marx: the ideology of the ruling class becomes the ideology of the whole society."

"Not the ideology. The Reality." He lowered his handkerchief. "This was a public park until they changed the definition. Now, the guns have changed the Reality. It isn't a public park. There's more than one kind of magic."

"Just like the Enclosure Acts," I said hollowly. "One day the land belonged to the people. The next day it belonged to the landlords."

"And like the Narcotics Acts," he added. "A hundred thousand harmless junkies became criminals overnight, by Act of Congress, in nineteen twenty-seven. Ten years later, in thirty-seven, all the pot-heads in the country became criminals overnight, by Act of Congress. And they really were criminals, when the papers were signed. The guns prove it. Walk away from those guns, waving a joint, and refuse to halt when they tell you. Their Imagination will become your Reality in a second."

And I had my answer to Dad, finally, just as a cop jumped out of the darkness screaming something about freaking motherfucking fag commies and Maced me, as was certain to happen (I knew it as I crumbled in pain) on that set.""

In case you missed it, and I am not throwing shade, I first read this passage in 2003 and somehow missed it because let's be honest, it is a fucking huge shock to the system to realize the importance that a law passed by congress is in physical reality a few soundwaves and scribbles of graphite and ink on some paper and some electronic shit nowadays but it changes the reality of the lives of people far and wide, but the deeper implication of this, that A IS NOT A, that is FUCKING HUGE.

Because here's the thing. In a world without magick, in a world where people don't have conflicting interests or neurodivergences or imperfect communication or a sense of playfulness or all the other shit that makes us lie to each other and encode messages and make up stories and create false narratives, ok, there is a "possible world*" where A would be A, where every dragon would be a dragon, every spade would be a spade, and where every lost person's journey of self discovery would consist of them uttering I am [a short description]. And that world would be bleak and boring and all of the interesting stories about it have been told and it's called The Giver. But that isn't this world. This world has magick, in fact it has a lot of magick, and you see it everywhere, but maybe you don't recognise it as magick because all the fantasy novels have you sold on this idea that magick is wrapped up in this aesthetic of pointy hats and medieval shit and low science and alchemy is a bit more scientific but got superceded by chemistry, etc.

But, no! LET THE RABBITS WEAR GLASSES (I've just had an urge to shout that recently)! MAGICK IS STRONGER THAN EVER AND THE UNIONS PROVE IT! Magick, in some sense, is the ability to distort reality, and to see reality beyond the distortions. And some magicks stretch thin when the presented reality differs so greatly from actual reality as to breed incredulity. And there are a lot of magicks, I'll bring up housing/ret prices, and point ominously towards the idea of land ownership as a concept, are starting to get pretty fucking thin. And when a longstanding spell breaks, that shit cascades. My advice is for all y'all to be prepared to capture that lightning, and don't just bottle it, Goddess knows we got plenty of bottled lightning, chain that fucking shit, channel it towards good and away from destruction as much as possible.

Anyway, I suck at conclusions, but I hope this shit has been informative. Keep fighting the good fight, confuse the enemy, do your things, and make sure to disobey every authority at least once, especially me.

This message is highly conversational. Dictate it to a reporter while exclaiming that you could have deconversationalised it while in office, but you didn't. If they point out that you're still in office, act like you had forgotten and issue a papal edict of your choice.

Praise Eris, All Hail Discordia.

[i-am-jean-descole]

> [yes] [no]

[connecting...]

8%...

5%...

12%...

16%...

[connection established successfully.]

Descole appears to be unconscious.

[viktorgf]

—2023 wrapped tag!

thank u shell @shellibisshe for the tag i love sharing music w my fwends and i will take every opportunity to do so 🫶🏻

—tagging: @bloodofvalyria ⚜️ @ghostfvcker ⚜️ @adelaidedrubman ⚜️ @unholymilf ⚜️ @insanityconcerto ⚜️ @killerspinal ⚜️ @lxmbert ⚜️ @florbelles ⚜️ @kyber-infinitygems ⚜️ @simply-jason ⚜️ @cetra ⚜️ @pitchmoss ⚜️ and you!

[aercnaut]

lee doesn't have this much disrespect in him but my gods i want to write him calling someone a heifer so bad

[waiting-on-a-dream]

𝙼𝙱𝚃𝙸, 𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚌𝚜!

𝙼𝙱𝚃𝙸

Ichiro: INTP (He's curious about the world, despite getting stuck in his own head and losing track of time often. He gets many ideas but forgets them just as easily. He doesn't care much for what people think about him, but goes along with the flow so nobody will be unhappy (he probably doesn't care about the topic either but that's besides the point). He's also really detached from his own emotions, and finds it hard to empathize with other people.)

Akane: ESFP (She's really focused on her surroundings and is often experiencing everything that's happening around her, never missing a single detail unlike Ichiro. She also has a good grasp of her emotions and has a strong moral code, hence why she's often so angry with other people who look away. However, knowing that she's angry doesn't help control her emotions that well. She doesn't like being a bad mood, but she doesn't know how to manage her feelings properly.)

Daisuke: ESTP (Like Akane, he also pays attention to his surroundings well. He's always up and about, flitting from one exciting activity to the next. He also likes to think about things in a logical way and doesn't care about the morality of what he's doing as much (his job, cough). However, he has FE as his third function, so he's not completely terrible at navigating social and emotional situations. In fact, he's quite good at utilizing his emotional manipulation.)

Suzume: INFJ (She has a bad habit of always having her head in the clouds and worrying about the future. She mostly gets by with life through her intuitive gut feeling, which hasn't failed her so far. She also wants everyone to get along and will sacrifice her thoughts and feelings in order to go with the majority, to the point where she might put on a mask for someone if they want her to act a certain way.)

Haku: ISTJ (He tends to relate his past experiences to present circumstances, where his memories are used as a frame of reference to build ideas about how the world is and how it works. Whatever has been established to work well, he'll keep going with that until another solution is required. He's reasonable and rational, but has enough emotional intelligence not to rub most people off the wrong way.)

Yui: ESFJ (Her decisions and opinions are heavily influenced by her interactions with other people, as well as cultural and societal norms. She's friendly, sensitive and empathetic, always willing to help other people whenever she can. She also tends to act and respond in patterned ways that have been proven to work in the past, not willing to step out of her comfort zone most of the time.)

Rin: ISFP (He's sensitive and very aware of his inner emotional state, having a bad habit of being self-centered and aloof often. He only does what seems right to him, and doesn't enjoy being told that he's "wrong". Like most teenagers, he's trying to form his own identity while still gaining approval from his peers (its hard to do both). He also pays a lot of attention to his surroundings, concentrating on living in the moment instead of planning ahead.)

Noa: INFP (She's sensitive and empathetic, unfortunately jaded and anxious from bad experiences in her past. She used to be an idealistic dreamer when she was younger, but she knows now that she was just naïve and unaware of the world. She's also speculative and creative. Her NE allows her to see patterns everywhere, jumping from one thought to another as each item reminds her of something else.)

Kiyoshi: ENFJ (Like Yui, he's friendly and helpful to everyone he meets. He feels a sense of responsibility over people in a humanitarian way, and often sacrifices his own thoughts and feelings to keep up the peace in a group setting. He makes sure to plan ahead in life, but ends up relying on his instincts to guide him more often than not. Its okay, his gut instincts rarely fail him!)

Mayumi: INTJ (She worries a lot about many things, always stuck in that chaotic head of hers. Even though she thinks so much, she finds it very hard to voice her thoughts in a way that others will understand. How frustrating. She might be anxious often, that doesn't necessarily make her an emotional wreck though. She's actually quite level-headed when the situation calls for it, making reasonable and rational judgements every time without fail.)

Haruto: ENTP (He has a speculative and creative intellect, seeing patterns and connections everywhere to make a bigger picture. Whether or not he chooses to share his vision is another thing. He also prefers to think about things objectively and logically, questioning many things he comes across. Like Daisuke, he's also perfectly capable of tapping into his emotional intelligence.)

𝙴𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖

Ichiro: 5w6 (sp/sx)

His self-preservation instinct manifests in his tendency of retreating into his head to think, hence why he's so detached from reality. He's hesitant to do something if he isn't sure how it'll go, leading him to observe life from a distance instead of participating in it. His six wing causes him to feel alone and incapable without outside support, and he wants to feel safe with the people that he trusts. But he's primarily a type 5, so despite wanting attention from the people that he likes, he ends up minimizing his needs to avoid having them think he's too needy.

His social instinct comes in second because of his natural curiosity towards the world, wanting to learn more despite being so detached from it. He also finds comfort in knowing the acceptable boundaries of how to act through "authority figures" such as: his mom, Haruto and the other adults in Milgram. Because they're supposed to know more than him, he automatically trusts most authority figures and what they tell him.

Akane: 6w5 (sx/sp)

Her sexual instincts manifest in her tendency to appear bold and fierce in order to protect herself from any threats. Sexual sixes have the mentality of "the best defense is a good offense", and Akane is no exception. Her constant anger isn't a façade per say, but it stems mostly from her fear of getting or being allowed to get hurt. She would also like to have someone to rely on, but that isn't her main priority. Her sexual 5 tendencies manifest in her distrust of people instead, constantly analyzing and testing them to find out if they're any threat to her. Her guard is always up.

She doesn't trust any authority around her (they've all failed her so far), but she can't help the small feeling of hope that they'll help her every time. They're the authorities, so they should care about her and want to help, right? Right? She also doesn't pay much attention to anyone she doesn't like, as they tend to make her angry and that isn't good for anyone. If someone can connect with her and/or hold a conversation with her without pissing her off though, she's surprisingly loyal once she gets attached.

Daisuke: 7w6 (sp/so)

His self-preservation instinct manifests in his characteristics of being practical, opportunistic, and good at networking. He likes the sense of banding together with trusted others in which he knows he'll be looked after. Its funny. He fears being completely reliant on others, yet wants to be able to rely on someone. His six wing further emphasizes his need for support. His morals are questionable, but he still seeks friendly connections and alliances. And to do this he projects a friendly, trustworthy, and supportive persona as good allies are supposed to be.

Daisuke imagines having something better than his bleak reality sometimes, but only sometimes. He's not enough of a dreamer to be so idealistic. He has a flair for being dramatic, and exaggerates good effects when trying to rope in clients, but that's about it. His romantic side likes to sneak out in the presence of a certain someone though. He isn't as aggressive as Akane (sexual 6 wing), but he does tend to feign calmness in the face of "danger". He's good at not showing it, but he's actually quite scared most of the time.

Suzume: 9w8 (so/sx)

Her social instinct manifests in her tendency to work hard to support the people she cares for and prioritize the group’s needs above her own. This is due to the feeling that she doesn't actually belong among the people she cares for, so she overcompensates by being generous and sacrificing whatever is necessary to meet the needs of the group in order for a sense of belonging. She is also very focused on protecting her loved ones but has a hard time expressing vulnerability and emotions. 

Its hard to live in such a harsh and cruel world, but she is able to find a sense of comfort through the satisfaction of physical needs. Enjoyable activities like eating, reading, watching television, and even sleeping get her from one day to the next. As long as she focuses on the present instead of the daunting future, she'll be fine. Her 8 wing allows her to be good at making things happen. When she wants something, she most certainly will work hard to get it! She just needs to actually want something first.

Haku: 5w4 (sp/so)

Like Ichiro, he tends to keep to himself and learn about the world through observing rather than participating. While Ichiro has garnered a love for drawing, he has a passion for music, specifically piano. His 4 wing is where he differs from Ichiro's enneagram type. A type 4's greatest sin is "envy", and Haku tends to compare himself to others in terms of music capability. He actually isn't that talented when it comes to playing the piano, but he makes up for it through hard work. Still, he can't help being jealous of others who seem to get by without having to suffer as much as him. There's no point in whining about it though, so he learns to endure everything with a stoic face.

Sexual fives live for a kind of ideal connection, always searching for someone who they can trust with all their secrets. They can be said to be romantics in that way. Luckily for Haku, he already has his beloved brother who is always by his side. Everyone else in the world pales in comparison to him. The sexual side of Haku's 4 wing manifests in his competitive streak towards his peers. When it comes to the piano, he hates to lose to anyone else. Even though he isn't as naturally talented as everyone else, its what he's best at. Its an important part of him, and he can't let go of it.

Yui: 4w3 (so/sp)

As a social 4, she tends to feel things deeply and finds it hard to regulate her negative emotions. A part of her wants her suffering to be recognized and understood, but she also fears displaying such vulnerability to the potential of being rejected. To compensate for this innate sadness, she projects the exact opposite image. She's flourishing and beautiful and popular, liked by everyone. Her smile will surely outshine her shadow.

She also often feels competitive towards other idols in the industry, especially those that seem to be better than her. She can't stand the thought of being forgotten in someone else's shadow, so she works hard to shine in her own right. Its not always about her though! She likes to see her loved ones flourish as well, and will often work hard in support of the people she cares for. There's a special kind of pride she feels when her loved ones are acknowledged after improving with her help.

Rin: 1w2 (so/sp)

As a social 1, he is highly idealistic and driven by an internal sense of morality. He strictly believes in rules and responsibility, hence why he takes pinky promises so seriously. He can be nitpicky and stubborn, causing him to feel separate from his peers because he struggles to find someone he can totally relate to. Even though he finds most people annoying, he quickly grows attached to anyone who treats him nicely. He's a hard worker with the occasional competitive streak, wanting to stand out and make an impact within whatever group he's joined (his school's science club).

He often feels that he knows the “right” way to do things, and will get frustrated at those who don't follow his views. Its not that he believes in perfection, but there's a certain standard that everyone should live up to. He can't understand people who fuss over trivial things that don't amount to anything in the end. Once someone manages to befriend him, he'll give lots of attention to them, wanting to be their best friend just as they are his. He gets lonely quite often actually, and isn't good at letting go of people.

Noa: 4w5 (so/sx)

Similar to Yui, she's sensitive and has a bleak outlook on life and the world as a whole. Its as if she was born to be sad, and she can't help but feel as if life isn't worth living most of the time. She tries not to burden others with her depressing thoughts and feelings, but it feels good to let the weight off her back once in a while. A part of her fears that her loved ones will start seeing her differently once she shares too much though. These feelings might be born from her tendency to live in her own head, filled with romantic ideals of a better world with better people. She was never one for mundane, ordinary life, how could she be? The books and movies she watches are much more interesting, and they often make her wish she was living in another world instead.

Her self-preservation instinct tries its best to make her not seem like an utter failure. Others will surely be annoyed at her whining, so she should just keep these messy feelings to herself. This inner conflict only causes her turmoil most of the time. Her 5 wing also causes her to have a need for clearly defined boundaries, to have a place of safety she can retreat to to avoid feeling lost in the world. Even though she wants to, its hard to voice her thoughts sometimes. Especially with the potential of rejection.

Kiyoshi: 2w3 (so/sp)

He's obviously a social 2 with him being the helpful and responsible leader type. He wants to help people and preserve the peace of the community, and is ambitious in pursuing any goals he sets for himself. Everyone who knows him admires him for his accomplishments, he's a role model for his community after all. A part of him needs everybody's admiration and respect as a way of earning a sense of belonging in his community. His parents are very active in the community as well, so he's learned that people who go out of their way to help others are always well loved and accepted. He makes sure to live up to everyone's expectations.

He also strives to forge intimate connections with others. It'd be nice to have some close friends, to share secrets with others and to be shared with. But he wants to be approved of and liked so much that he is willing to agree to anything someone says. He doesn't even realize that he says whatever the other wants to hear until hours after the conversation. Because he tries so hard to be good and perfect, he doesn't know how to react to criticism. He also goes out of his way to support others, particularly his loved ones. He wants everyone to get their own chance to shine!

Mayumi: 1w9 (so/sx)

Similar to Rin, she believes that everyone has a certain standard to love up to and responsibilities that they must fulfill. She strives to be the perfect example to others by living according to the rules and portraying correct conduct. She has a strong moral compass and bad habit of judging others in secret (she tries not to). However, she's more peaceful and compromising compared to Rin, as she doesn't want to offend or cause trouble for anyone. She works selflessly for the group without desire to be in the spotlight or be heaped with praise, simply being part of a meaningful group of people means the most to her.

Her self-preservation instinct manifests in her tendency to be plagued by worry in her daily life. She wants to be prepared when things go wrong, and will put in a lot effort into making sure her life is in order. Despite her anxiety and annoyance whenever things don't go smoothly, she still strives to live a calm and peaceful life. This means that she is practical and routine-oriented, trying her best to focus on the present and find ways to make her environment more enjoyable and comfortable.

Haruto: 8w7 (sp/so)

He doesn't have to worry about such things as a prison warden in Milgram, but he actually has a strong need to obtain what he needs for survival. He has a sort of ruthlessness in going after what he wants and finding ways to get around people who might stand in his way. He's efficient and calculating, but not entirely cold-hearted. His 7 wing also helps him with being opportunistic and good at networking, qualities that are always good to have for survival. He believes in strength in numbers, so being friendly and forming alliances with others is important to him. Even more so when he comes across someone who can help him in achieving his goals. Perhaps he struggled a lot before Milgram.

His sexual instinct has him being distrustful of rules and not afraid to go against the grain of convention. He's found himself in a strange place with no memory of anything before, so he's always uneasy despite being in the "highest position of authority" in Milgram. He wants to be in control of himself and his environment, and gaining more information is the only way to do so at the moment. His optimistic 7 wing keeps him in good spirits despite his uneasiness, and he tends to be impulsive because of it, much to the chagrin of some prisoners. Planning, improvising, envisioning – these are the things that occupy his time.

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜

Ichiro

Gender preference: None. He'd probably grow feelings for anyone within his age range that treats him nicely.

Giving:

Gift giving - Its a nice way to show his affection without coming off as too clingy. He tends to dedicate and give his drawings to the people close to him. Drawing is his hobby, and he's quite good at it so he thinks his drawings are a good gift for his loved ones. He'll also pick up anything that he thinks his loved ones would like. Flowers, keychains, food, smooth pebbles for paperweights (that he paints first), you name it.

Quality time - When he likes someone, he wants to spend time with them (isn't it like that for everyone?). He'll try his best to pay attention when they're talking or trying to show him something. Compared to the way he usually ignores other people, his preference for someone can be quite obvious over time.

Receiving:

Quality time - As long as he can be doing the same activity as his loved one, he's happy (like a cat). The amount of attention they're willing to give him is how he measures their feelings towards him actually. If they don't want to spend time with him, that must mean that they don't care about him.

Words of affirmation - He has mommy issues, so of course he wants to be called a good boy. But seriously, compliments and kind words will have him curling into a ball of happiness. He doesn't believe in lies, so he thinks that any words of affection towards him is true. He likes being reminded that he's loved.

Akane

Gender preference: None. She's giving pansexual vibes actually.

Giving:

Acts of service - She's used to doing all the chores around the house, so doing the same thing for someone she actually cares about shouldn't be a problem. She isn't very good at cooking, but she'll practice if she wants to impress someone- He first-aid skills are quite good from experience, so she'll insist on patching up the wounds of her loved ones whenever she has the chance. She's not happy about them getting hurt or anything like that! She just likes having the opportunity to show her care for them.

Quality time - She's never had someone genuinely care about her before, but he wishes she had someone to talk to often. She's very picky about who she spends her time with, but when he likes someone, she'll go out of her way to seek them out. Who would've thought? Even a tsundere like her wants love.

Receiving:

Gift giving - Her father is a good-for-nothing, and a high school girl is only able to rake in so much income, so she doesn't have much to herself. Practical items like food, bandages, clothes and stationary are the fastest way to her heart. She'll find a way to repay the giver because she doesn't like feeling indebted to people, but she appreciates the gesture all the same.

Words of affirmation - She is so weak to compliments. Butter her up a little and she'll be a flustered blushing mess. Its nice hearing her loved ones tell her that she's pretty cool, okay? Especially after the things her father and teachers have said to her.

Daisuke

Gender preference: None. Bisexual disaster at his finest.

Giving:

Physical touch - He's a touchy guy, even towards people he just met as long as they don't seem to mind (most of the time). If he likes someone, he'll definitely be draping himself over them a lot like a sloth. If he likes someone, he'll be thinking of kissing them so much its embarrassing. Even he gets embarrassed about it.

Gift giving - A part of him gives gifts in hopes that the receiver will think of him whenever they look at or use the gift, like a little reminder of his affection for them. But for the most part, he has money and he likes spending it on the people he cares for.

Receiving:

Quality time - His parents were often busy, so he was quite lonely in his childhood. Its easy to arrange for meetups with friends now that he's an adult, so that's exactly what he does. He'll do the same for anyone he has feelings for too. He doesn't call it a date, the potential of rejection is too much. He just wants to spend time with the people that he likes, preferably doing something fun.

Physical touch - Is he touch starved? Any skin contact makes him happy actually, even if its a little rough. Maybe he's just a masochist. Cuddling is his favourite, especially with his special someone playing with his hair. Not that he's ever had a special someone cuddle him... But its nice to dream about.

Suzume

Gender preference: None. I'm getting bisexual vibes from her too.

Giving:

Acts of service - Her main method of showing her love is easy to overlook, hence why she feels she isn't good at loving. Doing the chores, remembering important things for her loved ones, positioning things around the house for convenience... Even though it feels like she's being taken for granted sometimes, its her way of showing her love and she isn't stopping anytime soon.

Quality time - When she cares about someone, she gives them her full attention and tries her best to remember the important details about them. She'll only remember the times she spent with them in the end after all, so why not create as many happy memories with her loved ones as possible?

Receiving:

Quality time - She's really happy when her loved ones talk to her or do an activity with her. Watching a movie together is one of her favourite activities to do her loved ones actually. She gets to enjoy the movie with them, and then discuss it with them afterwards.

Words of affirmation - She's the type of person to hear "I love you" a thousand times over and still not get tired of it. Same goes for compliments and reassurances. She just has to hear it with her own ears even if they're lies and she'll be alright.

Haku

Gender preference: None. He isn't interested in dating, but he probably has the capacity to be attracted to people.

Giving:

Acts of service - His way of showing love is quiet. He's already a responsible older brother, so doing chores and offering massages to his parents is normal for him to do. Helping his brother talk to others is a loving act of service as well. His parents tell him he coddles his brother too much, but he can't help it.

Gift giving - He tends to buy snacks, flowers and little trinkets for his loved ones like a cat bringing its spoils to its master. Whatever he thinks they'd like. Learning to play piano songs that they like seems to be a gift rather than an act of service, so I'll put it here. He also leaves the portion of his meals that his brother likes for the other to eat, another example of him spoiling his brother too much.

Receiving:

Quality time - He just likes being around his loved ones. He could be in the same room as them, doing separate things, and he'd still consider it quality time. Of course its more special when they're doing an activity together though. He especially loves the music related activities, it feels more meaningful to him.

Physical touch - His family members are quite touchy actually. His dad pats his head frequently, his mom often squishes his cheeks, and his brother is always clinging to him. Since physical touch is their giving love language, he's likely adapted to receive it. He's quite picky with who touches him though.

Yui

Gender preference: Male. She thinks girls are cute, but isn't interested in dating them?

Giving:

Words of affirmation - She can't help but want to blurt out all the nice things she can think of about her loved ones. When someone mentions them, she automatically goes on a spiel about how amazing they are. She has to stop herself from ranting for too long most of the time. Shell praise compliment her loved ones face-to-face plenty too. And she means every word.

Physical touch - its hard to hide when she's feeling clingy. She loves hugging her loved ones, throwing an arm over their shoulders and tucking her chin onto the crook of their necks. She especially loves playing with their hair, no matter the length.

Receiving:

Quality time - Having her loved ones want to spend time with her is a surefire way to cheer her up during a bad day because she finds their presence comforting. She just needs them to sit with her. It lets her know that they don't find her annoying? Its a silly thought, she tries to shit it down every time it pops up.

Words of affirmation - Receiving compliments always improves her self-esteem. When she's feeling down, a few compliments is sure to get her mood back to normal in no time. She turns into a flustered mess when showered in kind words too.

Rin

Gender preference: Female

Giving:

Gift giving - He likes to treat his loved ones to snacks and buy little gifts for them. He doesn't receive that much pocket money, but he still insists on buying things for his loved ones because it makes him happy to see them happy with their gifts. He looks forward to special occasions like Mother's day and Valentine's day to be used as excuses to buy gifts for his loved ones.

Quality time - He likes seeing and interacting with the people that he likes! He can actually get antsy and restless when he hasn't been able to interact with his loved one(s) for too long. Like that time his parents went on a week-long trip for their anniversary. He was fidgeting while waiting for them at the airport.

Receiving:

Quality time - He tends to measure how much his loved ones love him based on how much time they spend with him. And he has a bad habit of taking it personally when they're too busy to spend time with him. It isn't that hard to hang out with him though. Most of the time he just wants to share a meal or read together.

Acts of service - He can sometimes forget to take care of himself when he's engrossed in his work, so its really nice when his loved one runs him a hot bath or brings him a snack while he's working. Little acts like that never fail to make his heart melt.

Noa

Gender preference: Male

Giving:

Physical touch - She can't help but want to feel her loved ones with her hands. Ruffling her brothers' hair, holding her mother's hand, hugging her beloved husband. There's something comforting about being able to feel their skin against hers. It grounds her, reminds her that they're here and alive. Is that weird?

Quality time - She isn't very busy, so she has plenty of time to spend on her loved ones. If her loved ones have something to show her, she's sure to give them her full attention! Any time spend sharing love for each other is quality time for her.

Receiving:

Words of affirmation -She tends to feel down sometimes, but little words of support and reassurance always help to pick her back up. Sometimes she just wants to be distracted and will ask them to ramble about something instead. She finds her loved ones' voices soothing, so they serve as good distractions.

Quality time - Since she likes spending time with her loved ones, she feels loved when they want to spend time with her too. She feels rather honored when her loved ones share something special to them with her actually. That means they trust her enough to share something close to them. How wonderful.

Kiyoshi

Gender preference: Female

Giving:

Acts of service - He wants his loved ones to be safe and comfortable at all times, so if there's anything he can do for them, he'll do his best to help them. Especially his beloved parents. He's a reliable assistant for his father while working, and frequently brews relaxing teas for his mother.

Gift giving - He likes to buy fancy and expensive gifts for his loved one on special occasion. Watches, fruit baskets, decorative items they're sure to like. His mother has a fondness for flowers, so he makes sure to buy a bouquet every Mother's day. He just loves seeing the look of joy on his loved ones' faces when they receive something they like. He can't get enough of it.

Receiving:

Physical touch - He's used to being touched a lot as a kid. His parents hugged him often, and his elderly neighbours liked to pinch his cheeks. They still do it even though he's all grown up now. Not that he's complaining! He quite likes the attention.

Acts of service - He's always making sure everyone else is taken care of, so who will take care of him? Sometimes he gets so engrossed on his work that he forgets about his own needs. Just having his loved one check in on him gives him enough motivation to keep going (and remind him to eat something).

Mayumi

Gender preference: Male

Giving:

Acts of service - She's more of a practical person, so she'd rather do something useful for her loved ones rather then profess her care with words. For her, talk is cheap. So she doesn't mind doing extra chores and cooking meals and such.

Gift giving - Another practical way of showing love that Mayumi prefers. She's known to knit sweaters for the children living in the hospital she works at, and her mother is always happy to receive more cooking equipment. Basically, she prefers to get things for the people she cares about that they will use.

Receiving:

Quality time - She's busy with her job as a nurse, so she treasures the precious moments spent with her loved ones. Even time spent doing chores with her mother is treasured by her. But she prefers activities like having a conversation over a shared meal.

Acts of service - She's very tired at the end of every day, so it'd be nice to be taken care of for a while. A simple cup of tea is enough to get her spirits up most of the time. She also tends to misplace her things quite often, so having someone help her to look for it and bring it to her would be really helpful.

Haruto

Gender preference: Both, both are good.

Giving:

Acts of service - He has traces of responsibility in him (likely from his past) and is always helping the people he care about feel comfortable. He's the kind of person that always has to be doing something, and that translates to his love language as well.

Words of affirmation - He tends to casually compliment the people he cares about, usually with a lighthearted tone. It just slips out so easily for him, he hardly has to think about it. The ever meaningful "I love yous" are saved for special occasions though.

Receiving:

Words of affirmation - Compliments and praises make him so happy! They inflate his ego too but we don't talk about that. If someone likes him, they must think he's pretty cool and want to voice it, right? He knows lots of people don't operate like that, but he wants to hear proof of their love from their lips. At least once in a while. That shouldn't be too hard for them if they love him.

Acts of service - Its nice to have things done for him. Even better if his loved ones is proactive about it! He's sure to do the same for them, so its only fair. The little things like being brought a drink and having his hair dried really makes his day!

[zincbot]

playing buddy simulator 1984... i accidentally turned on the shed light before going to the shed so i didn't get the keypad code for the hidden space... so rather than reset the game i sat there typing 3-digit numbers until i got it.

it was 624 btw

[justaladyiguess]

Jax 001 Theory AKA An almost definitely wrong TADC theory

I thought it was weird that they gave specific attention to Jax seeing the license plate. Like, there's a whole shot dedicated it. And it doesn't serve much of a purpose. I guess it lets us know that this is Jax's car? But it's in the episode. A full shot dedicated to seeing him notice it. A full shot dedicated to the plate itself.

And there's a shot afterwards of him reacting to it. Not even a particularly comedic shot. It feels more in line with his reaction to Kaufmo's funeral in episode 2.

True, it could be him reacting to the awful adventure he just had, but we just had a scene where his smile turned into a scowl. And, you know, pretty much the rest of the episode. Or it could be him reacting to the absurdity of the license plate, but considering the day to day adventures Caine creates, this seems a bit tame to get any reaction from him.

So that gets me wondering, does the license plate have any significance? The number at the top right could be some sort of reference. But it's the 001 that intrigued me. It's typically a number given to the first of something. Maybe even the first person to come to the circus?

Instantly the idea sounded ridiculous (because it is, this theory is almost definitely wrong). I mean, Jax himself said that Kinger had been here the longest. But take a look back at what he actually said.

"Supposedly been here the longest"

At first glance, this seems to mean that Jax can't be sure who's been here the longest. Which makes sense when you consider Kinger's memory issues and all the circus members who have abstracted. And, let's be real, this is probably what the line means. But if you'll let me be delusional for a second, there's another way to read this line.

What if Jax means that everyone assumes Kinger had been there the longest? But he knows it's not true because he's been there the longest?

For most characters, it wouldn't make sense for them to be purposefully vague with their wording. But this is Jax. It's completely in character for him to keep things from the other circus members for no reason. In the first episode alone he kept his supply of keys and Kaufmo's abstraction a secret. Jax will lie about pretty much everything, and he's pretty good at it too.

Further delusions can also be found in episode one. When Pomni tries take her headset off, Jax says this.

Could it be that Jax knows the circus members all tried to take off their headsets because he was there when they did it? Again, probably not. This is the weakest piece of evidence I have, but I figured I'd include it anyway.

And that would explain a fair bit of his behavior. Jax seems more comfortable in the circus than any of them. He has access to keys. He's only momentarily surprised by Kaufmo abstracting. He's incredibly jaded. He seems bored with the adventures, deliberately causing chaos to get them off track (his hijinks on the syrup truck, sucking up the ghost in the mansion, and trying to dunk Ragatha in the oil). It almost reads like a gamer who's played the game a thousand times and is trying anything to make it interesting.

Again, I'm fully aware that this probably isn't the case. I'd say there's a 0.01% chance that this will be confirmed in any capacity whatsoever. It will almost definitely be disproved. But until then, I thought this would be a fun idea. Maybe it'd be a good fic.

But hey, that's just a theory...

A DIGITAL CIRCUS THEORY!

and cut.

[fanbasetwo]

first time w anton? virgin anton x virgin reader?

IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙂

✦ BABY GIRL, 143 ! ANTON

001. PAIRING , virgin anton × virgin reader

002. SYNOPSIS , anton had been away from you for some months and now when he was back, you showed him all the texts you had seen on his phone. only ending up sealing the deal at the end.

003. GENRE , smut

004. WARNING(S) , kissing, a little dirty talk but anton is just shameless lol, teasing, pussy slapping, little to no prep, boob play, nipple play (slightly), they make up pretty early after fight, hymen breaking, mentions of blood and pain, too much plot if you ask me, lmk if I missed anything.

005. WORD COUNT , 1.8K

MASTERLIST!! join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

You had been dating Anton for a few years now. You met through a dating app, and while some might find that odd, you both clicked instantly. For better or worse, you fell in love.

Since you started dating at a young age, you both decided to seek job opportunities outside of town, which meant navigating a long-distance relationship. While many say long-distance relationships often fizzle out, that wasn’t the case for you two.

In fact, Anton would send you those silly memes that made you laugh and would video call you while cooking, asking for your advice if he messed something up. His friends teased you, saying you two were practically a married couple, and while there was some truth to that, the more accurate reality was that you both missed each other terribly.

So when he finally returned after landing a high-paying job—while you worked part-time as a cashier to cover rent—he insisted on paying your rent, but you turned him down.

The relationship seemed perfect, especially with his visit after what felt like two long years apart. But everything changed when you accidentally glanced at his phone. A text from a number with a heart emoji as a name read, “Is my baby fine?” In that moment, the realization hit you hard: the person you thought was your boyfriend was cheating on you.

“SO YOU CHEATED?!” you shouted as soon as you heard him enter the apartment. Anton, always the goofy one, jumped back in surprise at your furious tone and asked, feigning ignorance, “I’m not sure what you're talking about.”

“The message!” you ground out through clenched teeth, pointing at his phone, which he had mistakenly left behind.

As understanding seemed to dawn on him, he cursed under his breath and then smiled, which only confused you more. Why was he smiling? Shouldn’t he be trying to explain himself? Did those years together not mean anything to him?

Then he stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back until your back hit the wall of your apartment. His hands cupped your face as he said, “Hmm… Why would you trust the text so much? The ‘baby’ wasn’t me. The ‘baby’ was her dog, the one she asked me to take care of for a while.”

You didn’t buy it, so you pressed on, “Oh really? Then why does her username have a heart?”

He paused for a moment but answered without hesitation, even though you glared at him. “Well, maybe because that’s my mom?”

Processing that, your eyes widened. It actually made a sick sort of sense. The woman in the profile picture looked significantly older and bore some resemblance to Anton. Now you found yourself in a strange situation, filled with doubt.

You had just confronted your longtime boyfriend, your heart racing at the thought of betrayal, all sparked by a simple text while he gently held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I’m hurt, but I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. I could never cheat on you, Y/N,” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin anchoring you in that moment.

It took you back to when your love was fresh and innocent, when you were just seventeen, lost in each other’s world. Those years apart felt like an eternity, and as you closed your eyes, you longed for the sweetness of his touch, the electric thrill of his lips on yours.

The kiss deepened, a beautiful melody played by your lips as you moved together in perfect sync. He pulled away just enough to catch his breath before diving back in, his tongue tracing gentle patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt the rhythm of your tongues entwining, a lovely exploration you had only ever dreamed of. You had talked about waiting for one another, yet now you felt the exhilarating unknown of your connection. His hands traveled up your shirt, igniting tingles on your skin, and as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, the world around you faded away.

“Can I touch you more?” he asked, his hands gliding under your shirt as he looked at you with such intensity and love, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. The truth was, both of you were a bit inexperienced in this area, but let’s be honest, you both wanted to explore… so you nodded.

Before long, his hands were cupping your breasts beneath your shirt and bra. He was touching your bare skin. You could feel both of your breaths hitching; it was something new for the two of you after all.

You feel Anton's warm breath on your face as he leans in close, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I can... really touch, right?" he murmurs, looking for your confirmation before pulling you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you. His tongue dances with yours as the kiss deepens, sending tingles through your body.

When you nod, he breaks the kiss, and his hands move with a swiftness that takes your breath away. Your shirt and bra are discarded in one smooth motion, leaving your bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. His thumbs find your nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds until they harden into tight peaks. You can't help but let out a soft moan as waves of pleasure wash over you, your back pressed firmly against the wall.

Suddenly, you're airborne as Anton scoops you up in his arms, cradling you securely against his chest. A warm feeling envelops you, and you can't help but wish that at least one of you had some experience with this. "You don't mind, right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he lays you down gently on the bed.

"Yeah, but..." you trail off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone. "Do you know how to...? At least one of us should know what we're doing."

Anton crawls on top of you, his powerful body hovering over yours. He leans down, planting a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts before looking up at you from between them. A sheepish grin spreads across his face. "I may have watched some... for scientific purposes, of course," he adds with a playful wink.

His arousal is evident, a hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It brushes against your jeans, sending shivers through both of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Anton unbuttons his pants, the sound of fabric sliding against fabric filling the room. He discards them on the floor, along with your own jeans, the cool air brushing against your now bare skin. His large hand envelops your smaller one, guiding it towards his clothed bulge. You both hitch a breath as your fingers make contact, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

"See what you do to me?" he whispers, his voice low and husky with need. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest as he pushes his boxers down, and you see him, all hard and long, your eyes widening as a deep blush spreads across your cheeks at the exposed sight of him, vulnerable to you.

"Baby, you wanna put it in or do I?" he asks, unapologetic and direct, his tone incredulous. You squirm under him and look away, embarrassment exuding like a palpable scent.

"That's not quite. decent," you mumble, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Anton chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. "For what we're about to do, I don't think we should care about being decent," he says with a raised brow and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as your clothes join his on the floor.

Again, his hand bumps against yours to move it to his bare cock. You can feel every ridge and vein beneath your fingertips, the heat of his skin searing against your own. Your shyness returns, but there's no denying the effect your touch has on him. He groans and his hips bulge slightly as your hand is constricted around his length.

"Have you never slept with anyone?" you ask, a note of skepticism creeping into your voice because of how confident he seemed. He shakes his head, the dark locks falling across his forehead.

"It's because I love you and I trust you," he breathes, words stuttered over a guttural curse as your hand tightens its grip. "Fuck.”

Your grip tightens on the shoulder of Anton as his cock teases your wetness, the head slapping lightly against your pussy. He lets out a sigh as that anticipation builds between you and him. "I am going to put it in," he whispers, his gaze searching yours for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance.

A shiver of agony rips across you as your cherry is broken, drops of blood trickling down into your pussy. Tears well up from your squeezed eyes, your body tensing against this strange sensation. Anton buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own breathing in ragged gasps. "It—h-hurts—" your voice cracks, the words barely audible.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he asks, "Should I pull out?" Despite the guilt etched on his face, you shake your head stubbornly. "No, I want to do it." Your walls clench around him, your body instinctively trying to accommodate his size.

Anton takes a sharp breath of air. He waits a few moments before pushing deeper. A scream tears from your throat, your body arching off the bed as he sheathes himself fully inside you. Tears stream down your face, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he stills, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

"This is good, right? You're not scared now. are you?" he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently, your body slowly relaxing as it grows accustomed to the stretch.

"Mm." is all you can say, your mind dazed by the shocks of the sensations. His cock spasms inside you, and you and he are suddenly acutely aware of the crimson stain spreading across the sheets. Concern flickers in his eyes, but he knows this is normal, a testament to your lost innocence.

"It's okay, baby. It's supposed to hurt a little the first time," Anton reassures you, his voice soft and soothing. He kisses your tears away, his lips trailing along your cheek and down your neck. "I've got you. We'll go slow."

He starts to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, easing you into the rhythm. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure mixed with discomfort, your body struggling to adapt to the foreign sensation of being filled so completely.

"Breathe, Y/N. In and out," he coaches, his own breathing ragged as he fights to maintain control. "Tell me how it feels. If it's too much, I'll stop."

You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on the instructions. "I-It's intense," you manage, your voice trembling. "But don't stop. I want to feel all of you."

NOTE FROM SENA , this was genuinely just supposed to be a drabble, how the hell is this 1.8k words 😭💕

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[ad0rechuu]

۪ ᝰ ۫ MY OH MY ୨୧

based on my oh my by girls' generation

SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ Yn finds out that her whole relationship has been a bet. To get over her heartache her best friend Sunwoo convinces her to take revenge.

How you might ask? By breaking the culprits heart right back of course!

10jun23 | st. 31/12/23 ━ fn. 01/07/24

pairing. ━━━━━ Best Friend! Kim Sunwoo x Fem! reader (x Choi Yeonjun)

featuring. ━━━━━ the boyz members, kim chaewon, txt members + mentions of other idols

genre. ━━━━━ smau + written: humor/crack / fluff / angst / suggestive / childhood friends to lovers / college au / revenge relationship / relationship based on bet / slight slow burn

warnings. ━━━━━ timestamps/sm numbers/hair colors mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, crude humor (kys jokes), mentions of & illusions to of food/sex/drugs/alcohol/cheating/mental illness, use of pictures of yn but only for reference, yn is a sone (snsd fan). more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, please let me know if missed something. this story doesn’t describe the idols in real life and is written with a dark skinned poc in mind!

notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is open, send an ask to be added. spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too! credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics. i’m not a native english speaker! and thank you to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <3

( please give this story lots of love & check out my masterlist )

PROFILES. ━━━━━ SONES INCORPORATED ᜊ DA HOMIEZ ᜊ MORE COOL KIDS ᜊ THE PLAYLIST

STEP 1. GET OVER HIM ›

ᝰ CH 000. prologue: THE NEXT BET

ᝰ CH 001. I H8 MEN

ᝰ CH 002. DON’T BREAK UP WITH THAT LOSER

ᝰ CH 003. THE PLAN

ᝰ CH 004. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

ᝰ CH 005. *INSERT EVIL LAUGHTER*

ᝰ CH 006. ANNOYING BRAT FOR SALE

ᝰ CH 007. DON'T WORRY YOUR PRETTY BIG HEAD

ᝰ CH 008. NOT OVER HIM

ᝰ CH 009. CLASSIC SUNWOO-YN-BFF-DATE

ᝰ CH 010. THE NERVE AND THE AUDACITY

STEP 2. MAKE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU ›

ᝰ CH 011. STEP UP MY GAME

ᝰ CH 012. SASSY CAT EMOJI

ᝰ CH 013. A NIGHT ON THE TOWN W/ YN & WOO

ᝰ CH 014. GOOD NIGHT

ᝰ CH 015. HOBBIES FOR SUNWOO

ᝰ CH 016. GRAND DISCOVERY (YN HAS AN IDEA)

ᝰ CH 017. JUNS UNAPPROACHABLE AND COLD GF

ᝰ CH 018. HANGING OUT WITH MY BFS FRIENDS

ᝰ CH 019. BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF

ᝰ CH 020. DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME

STEP 3. BREAK HIS HEART ›

ᝰ CH 021. CODE ORANGE

ᝰ CH 022. I FUCKED UP

ᝰ CH 023. HITCH IN THE ROAD

ᝰ CH 024. CONSIDER AND MAKE SURE

ᝰ CH 025. WHAT MAKES THE HEART GROW WHAT?

ᝰ CH 026. BALLOON FLOWERS

ᝰ CH 027. REJECTION + ANEURYSM = WENT WELL

ᝰ CH 028. MAKEUP

ᝰ CH 029. BALLOON FLOWERS VERSUS ROSES

ᝰ CH 030. MINE (HIS)

ᝰ CH 00I. epilogue: A PEAK IN SUNYN’S LOVE

ᝰ CH 0II. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT

ᝰ AFTER WORD

special thanks (& follow these awesome ppl). ━━━━━ to @yuyusuyu @kodzumo @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @seonghwaddict @felixsramen : i have to give you six an extra special thanks because you all motivated and supported me so much while i was stressing and being annoying, just so you know guys are my motivation! (the other message is also to you all ofc)

and to @yunstarz @nyukyujs @rieuvie @thelargefrye @i-luvsang @cybrsan @gyumibear @pocketjoong @jaehunnyy @nebulousbrainsoup @justhere4kpop @xpixie @atinycafe @brrrkdslek @phantom-webber @a1sh1teruu @starryunho @aestheticsluut @end0rchans @yourfatherlucifer @alixnsuperstxr @girls4cheol @cheollipop @mintgki @aoi-turtle @renstears @42e15 @alixnsuperstxr @mrowwww @hwaightme @paradiqms @starrysvn @tubatu-wari-wari @kitten4sannie @chokchokk @hee0soo @joong-of-gold @armysantiny @evilsailorsenshi @mundayoonimnida @aapplepii @juhakutie : first of all i don’t expect you to read or interact with this fic, you might not even stan the boyz or like this sorta thing but i tagged you all because of one reason and one reason only; to tell you that you all make tumblr such a lovely and inspirational place for me, whenever i see ur accs it brightens my day because i know what great ppl are behind them, i just wanted to say that i think that you are amazing and i want to use this post to thank you! happy new years and i love you everyone (and you who’s reading this)

my oh my © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.

[dragoneyes618]

"Holocaust novels that have sold millions of copies both in the United States and overseas in recent years are all "uplifting," even when they include the odd dead kid. The Tattooist of Auschwitz, a recent international mega-bestseller touted for its true story," manages to present an Auschwitz that involved a heartwarming romance. Sarah's Key, The Book Thief, The Boy in Striped Pajamas, and many other bestsellers, some of which have even become required reading in schools, all involve non-Jewish rescuers who risk or sacrifice their own lives to save hapless Jews, thus inspiring us all. (For the record, the number of actual "righteous Gentiles" officially recognized by Yad Vashem, Israel's national Holocaust museum and research center, for their efforts in rescuing Jews from the Holocaust is under 30,000 people, out of a European population of at the time of nearly 300 million - or .001 percent. Even if we were to assume that the official recognition is an undercount by a factor of ten thousand, such people remain essentially a rounding error." In addition to their wonderful non-Jewish characters, these books are almost invariably populated by the sort of relatable dead Jews whom readers can really get behind: the mostly non-religious, mostly non-Yiddish-speaking ones whom noble people tried to save, and whose deaths therefore teach us something beautiful about our shared and universal humanity, replete with epiphanies and moments of grace. Statistically speaking, this was not the experience of almost any Jews who endured the Holocaust. But for literature in non-Jewish languages, that grim reality is both inconvenient and irrelevant." 

- Dara Horn, People Love Dead Jews: Reports from a Haunted Present

[zumicho]

home┊prologue┊002

001: iced lemon loaves & self deprecating humor

© zumicho all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.

────────────────────────

cw: language, mentions “maul” “die” & sexual jokes

“do you not have any friends?” a tousled head of dirty blond stands before you, his toned arms crossed over his chest. it’s only been five minutes; he’s already cutting five years off of your lifespan.

there’s a heartbreaker kind of look in his eyes that warns you to avoid him. you ignore it. “that’s an odd question to ask a stranger.” he’s not your type anyway; it doesn’t matter how much he pesters you.

“we don’t have to be strangers.” he stretches his hand out. “I’m miya atsumu, and my friend thinks you’re hot.” friendly (suspicious), you shake it.

“you or your friend?”

as he opens his mouth to reply, the door chimes cut him off. three people walk in. one is trailing behind the two—defeated, like he’s failed a mission. you look at the one that talked to you, and then to him. twins, you note. this one’s got better hair.

there’s a reserved figure that walks ahead of them with an air of authority around him. the captain? you wonder, noticing the sport uniforms. he bows at you politely. you like this one.

“don’t listen to him.” the third person speaks up, and your mouth goes agape. he’s gorgeous. “sorry on his behalf.” he’s perfect.

“do you all play soccer or something?” you wince at their reactions.

“volleyball, actually.” — twin #1.

“oh! my bad!!!” you pale. god. “that’s cool. cool cool cool. cool.”

“cool with you if we get something to eat?” god’s favorite teases, all the others staring at you both. your ears turn a deeper shade of red each second.

“..huh?” you blank.

“oh. RIGHT. um, what can I get you?” you want to crawl in a hole and die, but hiding behind the counter will do for now.

you hear crickets as atsumu opens his mouth. “your number?”

“for suna here.” he adds as he gestures.

he clearly can handle himself, “ignore him. I’m not in the market for any relationships. nor am I interested.”

miya glares at him. “that’s mean, man. she looks disappointed.”

“I’m not.” you correct. “even if I was, it’s not like I’d have a chance.” your lips move faster than your brain.

“talk about self deprecating humor.” gray-haired twin #2 smiles at you, considerate. that lets your shoulders relax a bit.

“this is all really awkward,” suna says, “but we could really use some cupcakes or something.”

the captain steps up, and you maybe unintentionally notice that suna’s the tallest. “can we please get those cookies that were on twitter? if it’s not a problem.” he’s formal.

“sure. how many?”

“four.” the twins echo.

“make that three.” — s

you look up at him, confused. “you don’t want anything?”

“those look good.”

you follow his line of sight, and grin. iced lemon loaves.

“yeah. good pick.”

────────────────────────

author’s note: i made tsumu the punchline / punching bag in this au but oh well 😭 it had to be someone 😭 i also hate writing the embarassed / nervous character SO MUCH i cringe while i write.. i really don’t like this episode but idk what about my writing irks me here and IDK WHAT TO CHANGEEE i need 2 learn how to write dialogue better cause im DYINGGGGHHH OVER HERE

@phoenix-eclipses @thechaosoflonging @yuminako @nbcvs @tenjikusstuff4 @intergalacticrory @sonicsolos @yenonnoff @wyrcan @cnnmairoll @causenessus @reads-stuff-quietly @giocriedpower @applepi25 @gra-eae @lilchubbyyy @thvvluvr @toges-cough-syrup

[icejjfishesz]

001. ༺...OR JUST LOOK LIKE ONE༻∘

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: reader is down bad. paige in a situationship. kinda angsty.

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

the apartment is a lot quieter without tina. she made a lot of noise. you could still vaguely hear her terrible singing as she’d shower, cook, or clean; how she’d wake up early in the morning to make elbarote breakfasts that caused pots and pans to fall…very often; and the fact that she’d watch anything on her phone at max volume. 

in retrospect, she was kind of annoying.

but she was nice and you lived with her for almost a year. you’d gotten so used to her. 

but now, it’s quiet. and the only thoughts you had were thoughts of not being able to afford rent next month. luckily, sean, your best friend knows basically everyone on campus and kindly agreed to ask around for you.

you’re in your car after stopping to get fast food. you shove a few fries in your month as sean shuffles through his phone to show his instagram conversation with a potential roommate for you.

“okay, so…” sean shoves his phone in your face. “this…is ellie. she’s looking for a roommate and –– ”

“i slept with her…” you mumble after seeing the username. “didn’t end so well…”

“damn…okay, next.” he swipes through his phone again. “okay…this is emily. she’s a straight a student and wants to know if you’re okay with pets?”

you hum. “what kind of pet?”

“um…let’s see.” he shuffles through the text conversation and chuckles. “oh, a twelve inch snake?”

“no thank you…”

“aw, really? it’s kinda cute actually…”

“nope.”

“okay, next candidate.” he takes a big bite of his burger, chews for a while then takes a sip of his drink before he slides through his phone again. “alright, we have paige…it seems like she’s coming from a similar situation to you. roommate kicked her out after getting married at 19…yikes.”

you peer over at his phone. “give her my number…”

“already trying to sleep with her too?” sean snorts and you roll your eyes. 

“so that i can text her about the place, idiot.” 

“oh, yeah…” he taps on his phone a few more times and then you feel your phone vibrate.

FROM: PAIGE

hi

i got ur number from sean

you’re looking for a roommate?

TO: PAIGE

yes!! 

just have a few questions first

FROM: PAIGE

like what?

TO: PAIGE

do u smoke?

or own a ten inch snake?

and do u wash ur dishes?

FROM: PAIGE

nope

no??

yes

TO: PAIGE

*address*

are you able to come over tomorrow?

FROM: PAIGE

yes

what time?

TO: PAIGE

whatever works

FROM: PAIGE

i’ll come over around 12:30 then?

you smile at sean, relaxing for the first time since tina moved out. “thank you so much, sean. seriously.”

“hey, i would’ve let you stay with me but i live in a tiny ass dorm so…” he chuckles. “besides, if you became homeless, where am i supposed to go when my roommate need the room to fuck his boyfriend?”

you snicker. “good point. is it really that bad, though?”

“they’re like feral rabbits…” he mutters.

the next day, you hear a knock at the door at 12:27. she’s punctual, that’s a good sign. you open the door, breath catching in your throat when you see her. she smiled at you and you died a little. 

damn, why didn’t sean tell you that she looked like that?

she’s tall, definitely athletic by build, pretty eyes, and a warm smile. you’re fucked.

“hey, i’m paige.” she holds her hand out for you to shake and you have to physically refrain from shuddering. hello, paige. her voice…welcoming and warm, you hand to clear your throat to stop yourself from screaming.

it’s a great terrible idea to fuck your roomate. you remind yourself over and over again as  you take her hand, tell her your name which she already knew, and invite her into your apartment.

“nice place…” she steps inside cautiously. 

“thanks.” you stop yourself from checking her out any longer, not wanting to be creepy. stop being fucking creepy.

she looks around, you’d just finished cleaning. 

“so you’re an athlete?” you clear your throat, trying to politely strike up conversation.

“yeah, basketball.”

you internally groan at the slight smile she gives you when she answers your question.

“that’s –– ” hot. “cool.” 

she nods, turning to face you. “so is there anything i should know before i agree to move in?”

“oh…well, my best friend sean comes over sometimes. he sleeps on the couch occasionally but he’s really clean and respectful.” she nods, not looking bothered by that information. “and, um…i’m gay if that sort of thing bothers you…”

she snickers, shaking her head to herself. “doesn’t bother me at all…”

“oh? are you…?” “yeah.”

damnit. she looks like that and she likes girls? you’re so fucked.

“what about you?”

“what about me?” she licks her lips.

“anything i should know about you before i give you the key.”

“well, i’m kind of in…a relationship. kind of, not really.” fuck, that sounds complicated. too complicated. “it’s…i dunno…but, uh, she might come over if that’s okay?”

you swallow thickly, yes that sucks goodbye!!  “no, i get it…no problem as long as you pay your rent on time.” you die a little on the inside again.

she smiles again, it’s painfully beautiful. “i can definitely do that.”

you hand her the key and clear your throat again. “alright, roomie.”

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 016: 86 It, Baby

When they find out about you and Eddie, his cult following of jealous dancers team up to make your life a living hell. How much of it will you be able to tolerate? And how much of it will Eddie actually allow?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

word count: 8.1k words

disclaimers — fluff, smut, angst, oral (fem-receiving), pussy worship, office roleplay, fingering, boyfriend!eddie 😍 • bullying, body dysmorphia, body shaming, humiliation, sabotage, profanities, spreading rumors, billy being a narcissistic fuck again

(x)

Chapter 015 recap

"You sure you want to sign up for all of this?"

• • •

From here on out, it's going to be Shy Girl and Eddie... and nothing... NOTHING will ever change your mind or get in the way of that.

“Sugarcoated lies unfolded…”

Chapter 016

♡

“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Dustin shrieks.

“CORNER!” Mike hollers. “Hot plates coming through!”

“Shit shit shit shit!” This is the third order Lucas has messed up. “Argyle’s gonna kill me. Where the fuck is Eddie?!”

It’s Hellfire’s busiest Tuesday and the owner is nowhere in sight. And neither are you — Hellfire’s number one dancer.

Surely that has to be a coincidence. Because the last thing on your mind while everyone is going crazy looking for Eddie is going crazy in his office, your legs spread out on his desk while riding his tongue, his mouth and fingers penetrating your sensitive clit with calculated strokes and thirst-quenched laps, Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he prowls for your release, the remnants of it trickling down the wooden table and soaking all of his nearby paperwork.

…Right?

“Have you seen Eddie?” Nancy demands as she waves her dead curling iron in the air.

“No!”

“Will…have you seen Eddie?” Jonathan asks.

“No!”

Argyle isn’t having any better of a day.

“Ayo, who THE FUCK keeps ringing in the Eddie Special?! We 86’d it an hour ago cuz we’re out of thousand island!”

The frazzled cook shifts his focus back to the grill, wiping sweat away from his forehead in exhaustion. He then bolts to the fryer, ignoring the mountain of tickets piling up on the line.

A few muffled curse words escape his mouth. Goddammit Eddie. Where is that fucker?!

“Eddie?!” Dustin calls out as he’s directed to voicemail.

“Eddie!” Chrissy attempts.

“Eddie?!”

“Eddie!”

“EDDIE!” you moan. “Oh, fuck. Eddie…”

“Thought I told you to call me sir.”

Eddie’s lips hum against the ones between your legs as he devours you, tip of his tongue flicking across your folds before circling inwards, licking…sucking…moaning and spitting as he reels you in for a delicious rotation of all possible combinations.

“My sweet, sweet secretary,” Eddie playfully swoons. “They’re gonna have to wait baby, you taste so good.”

It should come as no surprise that a Dungeon Master like Eddie is obsessed with role-play. Yet it stuns you like it’s the first time, watching him devour you like a starved man in the wild, the heels of his palms anchoring you to his desk by how they hook your thighs in place.

“Love the skirt you wore just for me,” Eddie blubbers. The easy access just does something to him. And the way it hugs your body... Eddie is practically scraping his knees on the floor trying to make you feel good. “Love your sweet pussy. Love everything about you…”

“Ohhh…fuck…” you mewl as the echos of your wet cunt filter the air around you. “Yes, Eddie…”

“You my naughty little secretary?”

“Yes, sir…”

Eddie hums again while you toss your head back, bliss-filled and fucked out, squirming underneath him as your ankles dangle limply at his shoulders. Your pornographic moans that bleed into desperate squeals cause Eddie to subconsciously buck his hips and thrust, eagerly sinking his mouth further into you as he sucks harder on your clit. And just before he can pull down his pants to pound you senseless around his office, another type of pounding awaits for you two at the door.

“EDDIE OPEN THE FUCK UP!” Henderson screeches as he knocks. “Our ass is grass out there, what are you doing?!”

Eddie sighs in anguish, irritibably looking over at the ruckus waiting for him on the other side of that door. "I'll be right back, babe.”

You use this time away from Eddie to gather yourself and your belongings. Since you had been folded up for a while, your legs wobble like jelly when they meet the floor.

You’re a little bummed that you two didn’t meet your goal of Orgasm #5 of the day, but you’re content in knowing that there is always an opportunity to later in the night.

The door swings open abruptly causing you to jolt. Eddie’s back.

“Shy Girl,” he huffs.

“Eds,” you respond.

“I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth,” Eddie warns you. “But please put your clothes on.”

“Huh?!”

Eddie fills you in on the shitshow that is taking place outside. Hellfire is in desperate need of an extra server, and you are the only one with qualifications that can do it. But as much as you want to help, you are reluctant. It is a huge pay cut on your end if you took that deal.

“I make way more stripping than serving, Eddie,” you frown. “I need to pay the bills.”

“I can give you a cash advance,” Eddie bargains. “A-and even all my tips from the tip-out tonight. We just really need someone, baby. Just this one time, please. Only for today.”

Your man starts towards you with a flirtatious demeanor now, swooping in to grab your hips that he adores oh so much. You bite your lips, trying your best not to cave.

“And…” he lowers his voice huskily. “I’ll be sure to have another kind of tip waiting for you at home…”

You giggle into his chest, laughing at the clever pun that he had up his sleeve. And because he’s so charismatic and convincing, you take him up on the offer.

“Okay, fine,” you agree. “Just this one day.”

When you’re fully clothed again, Eddie hands you a Hellfire baseball tee and apron for you to wear as you switch from dancer to waitress. And after one final look at yourself, you reach to turn the knob of Eddie’s office door to go outside. Someone is already waiting by the foot of it when you pull it open.

Henderson.

Confused, Dustin looks at you. You look at Dustin. Dustin’s eyes wander over to Eddie whose got the most devious smirk on his face. Finally Henderson looks back over at you and sighs, issuing you a “do I even want to know?” type stare.

You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the awkwardness that just took over.

“Well…we going out there or not?”

“Hey. Look over there.”

Your ability to take up space in more forms than one inevitably catches the attention of the other dancers. Justice and Emmy in particular. The two watch as you strut around Hellfire with the club t-shirt on instead of the Nothing that they’re used to, ordering the younger gentlemen of Hellfire around like you were the shift lead.

“Lucas stay back here and help Argyle cook the food,” you instruct. “I will run it out. Mike, you start bussing and sweeping so the area looks nice. Dustin, I need you to make set-ups. Will, I need you up front as host and cashier. Someone needs to be at the front at all times. When everything is less crazy, we can all assume our usual positions. Right now it’s just DAMAGE CONTROL.”

Hellfire is not like a standard sit-down restaurant... for obvious reasons. However, the foundation remains the same. Everyone has a lane. They need to stay in it.

The boys are more than receptive to your instructions and follow through almost immediately. Eddie observes as it all goes down. He beams at you in awe, fantasizing about the situation because it's all his mind knows when it comes down to you.

“It’s like she’s leading them into battle…" he sighs breathlessly. "She’s so hot.”

“HOT!” Argyle screams as he dishes an appetizer onto the line. “Someone throw some chives on there for me, yeah?”

Just when you're about to crash, Steve and Max make their way inside the club, clearly worn out from their shift at Newby's, and stunned by the turnout for Hellfire at the beginning of the week.

“Holy shit, why are men so horny on a Tuesday?” Max exclaims.

She hands you your coffee that she made for you herself.

“This drink’s called The Pollywog. Dark and earthy, should do the trick.”

“Coffee does for me what crack cocaine would do for others,” you remark. “Thanks sis, I owe you.”

You pan your gaze over to Steve, because you know that he and Max usually like to order food and sit around for a bit before he drives her home.

“Uh, just two waters,” Steve mutters. “Max and I will order when you guys are less slammed.”

You smile at him, resting a grateful hand atop his shoulder. “‘ppreciate it, Stevie.”

The strippers eye you. Again, intently. You’re close with his roommate too? Little do they know you were also fucking his roommate for a short period of time.

This goes deeper than any of them thought. You and Eddie must be exclusive. And to them, it seems like you’re getting special treatment, fucking your way up to the top like a certain woman once did.

“Looks like we might have another Isabelle on our hands.”

“Look at her walking around like she owns the place.”

“She thinks she can take over Hellfire because she’s fucking Eddie huh?”

“I mean why wouldn’t she? She’s also friends with Chrissy. Birds of a feather.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It feels like you’re submerged underwater judging by the increase of pressure in the room.

The dressing room is eerily quiet. Everyone is whispering instead of the usual singing and shouting. Your intuition senses that people are staring... almost in a way that makes you feel like an art display, or that you have food in your teeth. The only ones who are still acting normal are Chrissy and Nina, while the girls you usually joke around with at their respective vanities have gone radio silent.

Just then, there's a knock on the door.

“Hi my beautiful girls,” Eddie coos as he makes his way into the dressing room.

He keeps his eyes covered until everyone says it’s okay.

“Quite the lunch shift huh?”

“You have no idea, Eds,” Nina sighs. "But it sure as hell paid off."

"Yeah, Eddie," Chrissy agrees. "We all got tipped so well, your tip-out is probably astounding too!"

Speaking of which...

"Just what I came here for," Eddie points a finger gun at you before unveiling to you a huge wad of cash. “Here are my lunch tips, like I promised.” You reluctantly take it from Eddie as he ruffles your hair endearingly.

Eddie's first mistake was not only making you the center of attention, but giving his tips to you — on top of the tips you already had from serving — in front of the other girls. In a way, those were their tips. They only became his, well, yours now, because of the tip-out policy.

Now they're really annoyed. The girls who have you on their radar wait until Eddie leaves to approach you. And when they do you're almost taken aback.

“You’re starting to do a lot of the positions,” Emmy observes.

"Uh, yeah from time to time," you respond gently. "Today Eddie really needed an extra server on the floor so I jumped ship to help the boys."

“Must be a natural at taking charge.”

"Oh…I'm hardly ever a dom," you try to laugh it off. "If I am it's usually just for show. I'm more of a soft dom and sub if you ask me."

"Just for show, I see," that's all Emmy seems to get from what you said.

"I'm sorry... did I step on some toes here?" you question her. She's almost shocked at how ballsy you are. But then again, she doesn't know you. "Because you seem pretty fed up with me today, Emmy."

“We’re just really protective of our Eddie,” she replies dryly. "That's all."

“Girl, trust I don’t want any trouble,” you try to sound confident but your voice fails you. Why would you say that? You shouldn't say that, you're his girlfriend. They should be the ones treading lightly.

“Oh we would hope so too,” Emmy glares. “Cause we’re watching.”

And just like that, the girls you thought you were on good terms with strut back outside in a single file line, their icy stares fixed on you until they are out of sight.

The atmosphere feels arctic now. Eerie. Unwelcome. It's like the remnants of Isabelle Munson still linger after all.

“The hell what that all about?” Nina questions when she walks over to you.

“It’s a looong story,” you huff.

STRIKE ONE

"And then Emmy says to me, wE'rE jUsT rEaLlY pRoTeCtIvE oF eDdIe AnD wE'rE wAtChInG yOu da-da-da."

You stop your frantic pacing to plop onto Eddie's bed in exhaustion.

"Nina and I were just standing there like... the fuck?" you continue. "WHAT is this bitch's deal?"

Eddie chuckles at your recap of the events from the day before, lazily strumming along to a Metallica song he's learning on the guitar. You're displeased with your man's lack of concern for the issue at hand.

You shoot back up quickly.

"Matter of fact, what’s everyone's deal?" you demand. "They were all chill and nice to me when I started Hellfire but the SECOND they found out we're seeing each other it's like I'm their mortal enemy. And for what? It’s not like any of them stood a chance with you anyway. Thirsty ass bitches.”

"OH!" Steve hollers from the living room, causing you and Eddie to flinch. "TOUCHDOWN TAYLOR! Wooo hooo! That's what I'm talkin' bout baby."

Eddie puts his guitar down and starts towards you, realizing now how much this has taken a toll on your mental. He also closes his bedroom door all the way, allowing for privacy between you and him, and Steve with his precious Colts game.

"I'm really sorry the girls made you feel that way," he sighs. "It's just been a while since I have been exclusive with somebody. They know how badly Isabelle broke my heart. And well, ruined my life.”

You scoff, looking away. Eddie is there to ground you once more, placing his index and middle finger on your chin, using them to redirect you back to his reassuring gaze.

“They're just looking out for me,” he assures you. “Promise."

"They thought I was gonna be another Isabelle," you pout. "That's really offensive, you know."

"They said that with Chrissy too when she was new," Eddie recalls. "I mean…You should've SEEN the amount of drama that unfolded whenever she and I would even breathe the same air. You would've thought at one point, they were gonna chop her head off and parade it on a wooden stake like in Lord of the Flies."

You fold your arms irritably.

"This isn't Lord of the Flies, Eddie. This is real life."

"Lord of the Flies is also real life. In a way."

“Not sure which side of the battle you're on here, babe.”

Eddie then goes onto explain that Chrissy also faced the wrath of Eddie's OG dancers. But after the Hellfire Girls realized that Chrissy was not going to be a threat, they backed down.

Every explanation earns him an eye roll. Eddie needs to realize that being seen as a threat should never be an excuse to be mean to someone. Especially since those girls have been buddy-buddy with you before.

"Strip clubs can be... very catty," Eddie concludes. "The longer you work in the industry the more you'll realize. Take it with a grain of salt, okay baby? All that matters is us."

You don't budge. A part of you still feels discredited, despite kind of seeing where Eddie is coming from. Unless this worsens, he can’t 100% take your side. Eddie needs to be mediator for now.

He scratches his head.

“I also…need… my dancers,” Eddie points out. “So from a manager-slash-owner standpoint, there isn’t much I can do about Mean Girl shit other than keep it under my radar. But you’re a Hargrove, honey. You hold your ground, get your check, fight some chicks outside the club if you have to…”

You giggle at the last part. Eddie reels you in.

“…and then come home to me.”

And then he flashes you the Munson smile, that ever-so-charming million-dollar attribute that won your heart in the first place. It all causes you to blush.

"Okay," you say.

Before you two could swallow each other whole, Steve knocks on the door. Eddie pulls it open.

“I’m ordering pizza, any of you guys want some?” Steve questions. “Hope you don’t mind pineapple.”

Eddie grimaces. “You’re fucking disgusting. Make half of it a Meat Lovers and I’ll pay for it.”

“Fine,” Harrington huffs. His eyes travel over to you longingly. “Hargrove? You okay with pineapple?”

“I’m okay with whatever,” you mutter. “Anything’s better than a can of worms.”

Steve's eyes peer over at you then over at Eddie. He doesn't quite understand your analogy, but still seems supportive of you nonetheless.

“Okay…” Harrington mumbles before closing the door. “Pineapple and Meat Lovers it is.”

𓆩♡𓆪

It all makes sense why you ate most of Steve's pizza instead of him a couple days ago. You were clearly PMS-ing, and today you started your period.

At least now you know the Plan B you took was effective.

As grateful as you were, you're still having an awful time 'surfing the crimson wave'. Mood swings were also at an all-time high. Anything anyone was going to say to you was surely going to make you combust.

You're also bloated, a huge insecurity of yours because what you packed for today is rather skin tight. What typically would make you look snatched today looks relatively unflattering today. You try to give yourself grace. Body changes during a cycle is normal. It's part of being a woman.

"Shy Girl!" Eddie calls out to you from the other side of the dressing room. "You gonna be out soon, baby? Got a few regulars of yours at Vecna's Lair!"

The Hellfire Girls' ears perk up when they hear "regulars". Whatever is up their sleeves today cannot be any good.

You call back out to Eddie as you make your finishing touches. "Yes, coming!"

"I don't know," Emmy says, projecting her voice slightly louder than she usually does. You look towards her general direction as she talks. "I feel like a lot of people are uneducated about dressing for their body type. Cuz when you don't dress correctly for your body, it just makes everything look so unflattering."

You look down at your body and start to feel a little sad. Although the conversation was between Emmy and Justice, you can't help but feel attacked.

You decide to make your way over to the DJ and show him your songs for the night. Your choice for the evening is Candy by Doja Cat because its slow and sexy rhythm will allow you to move in a manner that is flexible for this particular phase of your cycle.

After thanking the DJ, you confidently strut back down from the stage, channeling your inner Marilyn Monroe walk as you continue to move around.

"Oh my god," you hear Justice say. "That's kinda really embarrassing. Can you imagine?"

Suddenly, you hear Eddie's voice trail after you. Out of all people.

"Baby!" he exclaims.

Stunned, you turn around. "Yes?"

"I uh," Eddie stammers. "Let's get you back into the locker room huh?"

You're confused. What could possibly be going on to cause such panic in Eddie's eyes? Why was he so frantic, pushing and hauling you into the dressing room — and not in a way you'd like.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eds, slow down!" you exclaim. "What is it?"

Eddie gulps as he tries to catch his breath. You wait for him to talk, but he's too busy grabbing some spare towels and even some paper ones.

"Respectfully, Hargrove," Eddie says as he strides back over to you. "You need to change outfits or something."

Like Billy, you immediately go into defensive mode.

"OH IT LOOKS THAT BAD, HUH?” you demand. Your mini-freak out earns you some laughter from those girls, but you're too aggravated to give them your attention. “Sorry that I'm a little bloated today! Sorry that I’m a normal human being whose body is different depending on the day."

"It's not that, baby," Eddie insists. "It's just that... your bleeding? It went through."

Looking in the mirror now, you see a HUGE blot behind you. Your tampon had gotten dislodged and now there is blood all over your cute baby blue set. Heat begins to simmer at your cheeks.

Those fucking Hellfire Girls. How dare they not tell you?

When you glare back over at them, the Hellfire Girls are trying to conceal their laughter. What's even more infuriating is that Eddie doesn't seem to notice. But to be fair, he's too fixated on you to pay other women any mind. You want to pop them all, see how funny it is after.

"Seems like you're having a rough day," Eddie comments as he strokes your back.

"I am," you admit. "I tried to tough it out and come to work today, but nothing is going right." The air is quiet again when the girls see Eddie touching you lovingly.

You turn your body back towards the mirror and look at your ruined set in dismay. Eddie hates seeing you upset. Resting his gentle hands on your shoulder, he begins to barter.

"How about…” Eddie says. “You take the rest of the night off? I’ll take you home right quick. To my place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” your man nods, causing you blush. “Harrington and I have a shit ton of ice cream so you can help yourself. Lay in my bed, watch something on Netflix... When I'm off work and done visiting Wayne, we can cuddle, and I can give you belly rubs. Sound good?"

"Sounds like heaven, actually."

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve him. Eddie is so tender and sweet when he lets his walls down. You’re grateful that he decided to lean into the unknown when it comes down to you. Such a good boyfriend already.

The Hellfire Girls can’t help but eavesdrop on your little exchange. Suddenly, Eddie speaks again.

“Are we okay?” Eddie questions you with his beady eyes.

“Yes,” you smile. “We’re more than okay.”

Eddie kisses your cheek. He leaves his peck there for a few seconds before letting go. "I'll come scoop you in 10 once I get everything squared away. Then it’s junk food and cuddles all night long.”

Eddie makes sure that the girls hear this entire conversation. As you start to pack your stuff, Nancy drops in with a graceful smile, spoiling you with pads, tampons, and some ibuprofen. Meanwhile, Jonathan packs you a Sprite in a to-go cup with a smiley face, and Argyle spoils you with your usual — chicken wings, flats only.

The Hellfire Girls are fuming. Their attempt to embarrass you didn't go as planned. Instead, they got a lovesick Eddie with a Shy Girl on her way to his house to drink hot tea, scarf down some junk food, and relish in a heat pack of sorts and cuddles all night. And Eddie’s friends indirectly rushing to your defense.

But this humbling experience doesn’t stop their games. No no, it only just issued them a new set of information and ammunition for more intense blows.

The torment isn’t stopping here. The girls are going try harder.

---

STRIKE TWO

It didn’t stop at the subtle jabs.

If there was an opportunity to inconvenience you, the Hellfire Girls took it. Like calling Eddie on his day off — while he’s out with you — to come scope out a problem that could’ve been fixed without him. Or stealing your song choice when they heard you talking about it with Chrissy, and how you planned on using it for your set. Or “dropping” breakable items like your nail polish on accident and blaming it on their ‘complete and utter clumsiness’. Funny, because Eddie is always talking about how poised they are and a myriad of other good things…because that’s just who your boyfriend is at his core: a lover and supporter of women. Unlike some people.

It was Dustin’s turn to grocery shop one day. And while the Eddie Special is back on the menu, it was the waffle fries’ turn to be 86’d. Mike’s girlfriend, Jane keeps eating them and Wheeler of course always forgets to take inventory.

"So what does 86 mean?"

You're eating lunch with a couple Hellfire Girls in the dressing room when service industry lingo is brought up. Everyone eyes you, from Emmy to Lady to Kassidy. Justice seems to be holding her breath.

"86?" you repeat just to make sure.

Kassidy gives you a look, almost a "duh" kind of look that makes you feel slightly stupid.

"Yeah, heard you talking about it with the kitchen staff."

"Oh," you say. "Oh well 86 means to get rid of something. Maybe because it's not available anymore, or out of stock. Not needed, even."

"I see..." Kassidy responds.

"Wish we can '86' people," Lady mutters.

The comment earns her a snicker from Kassidy and Lady. It makes you feel weird inside. They couldn't have possibly been talking about you, right?

You walk away to throw away your food, and while you’re away from them their laughs intensify. Now all they could talk about is ‘86’ and their own personal spins on it.

Oh they were most definitely talking about you.

You decide to leave the dressing room and hang out at the hookah lounge before your next set. It was clear you weren’t welcome and you weren’t about to be in the company of people who were only going to drain your energy.

The audacity of it all still leaves you appalled. Plotting behind your back is one thing, but the fact they had the guts to say it and do things in front of you now is scary.

𓆩♡𓆪

“And then they said, ‘Wish we could 86 people’,” you recall angrily. “That basically implies they want to get rid of me.”

“That sucks, sis,” Billy sighs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

You’re on the phone playing catch-up with Billy on your day off. Meanwhile, Eddie is playing a video game with his online friends, allowing you to use his room to pace around in frustration.

“And one time when I was on my period, I bled through,” you continue. “And then Eddie-”

Billy interrupts you before you could positively advertise your man. You would think your brother would want to know that his twin sister is in good hands judging by the way Eddie took care of you when you were feeling like absolute shit…how instead of forcing you to perform he sent you home early and ate junk food with you and gave you a heat pack and belly rubs to help with cramps…But no.

“I don’t wanna hear about that girl stuff,” Billy gags. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

Classic Billy.

“…okay,” you huff and digress. “But you get the picture, right? These girls have it out for me.”

“Oh for sure,” Billy agrees. “It’s one-sided beef because they’re intimidated by you. I hope they get the shit pimp-slapped out of them for being dicks to you.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that…” you mumble.

“But I would,” Billy laughs pridefully.

No matter how awful the girls were being to you, you wouldn’t wish anything upon them like Billy described. They were already miserable anyways, judging by how awful they were being to you for no reason. If anything you’d wish them healing and some love because they clearly needed it.

“I wish I could go over there and give ‘em a piece of my mind,” your twin brother continues, the thought of violently attacking women quite possibly giving him a hard-on via the other line. “No one can be mean to my sister BUT ME.”

The execution of his words makes your stomach turn. Because as those words are uttered, you’re back in the San Diego rental, screaming and crying, clawing at Billy to get him off of you because apparently your change in tone towards him was enough justification for you to be accosted against the wall.

“That was really uncalled for, Billy,” you scold him. “Time and place, please.”

Suddenly, the vibe changes. You can practically feel the heat through the phone.

“What, you’ve never heard of that expression before?” Billy demands. “It was a fucking joke, don’t get so butthurt.”

“Is it really a joke?” you hiss. “Because if we revisit the timeline, you haven’t been exactly nice to me either.”

“OH MY…” Billy sighs in exasperation. “I can’t say SHIT to you without you crying about it. Maybe those bitches are onto something. Maybe YOU’RE the fucking problem.”

“How can you say that?!” you shout.

The change in your tone causes Eddie to look up from his computer. Like second nature, the tears free fall from your eyes as you scream at your brother through the phone.

“After I vent to you about EVERYTHING, Billy, really?!”

“I don’t know, maybe since so many people have a problem with you…including ME,” your brother snaps. “'Think it’s time we look at the common denominator.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU! I don’t know why I tell you anything anymore!”

“YEAH WELL FUCK YOU TOO BITCH!” Billy screams back. “I’m GLAD you and that scrawny red-headed BRAT moved out. My life has NEVER BEEN THIS PEACEFUL!”

“Yeah cause you were SO unbothered you had to FLY HERE and CONFRONT ME AT MY JOB, RIGHT?”

It’s a few more nasty exchanges of words and threats before you hang up and chuck your phone at the wall. Startled, and probably reminded of his own traumas, Eddie’s first instinct is to duck. You watch as he trembles slightly, like a puppy during a thunderstorm, before removing his cupped hands away from his ears.

He then makes his way over to you, demeanor shifting from alarmed to alarmed for you.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers to you in consolation. “Hey hey hey hey. Come here. Come here.”

He rocks you in place. Immediately you collapse into Eddie’s arms. You’re absolutely tired. Tired of the Hellfire girls. Tired of putting on a happy face for your little sister 24/7. Tired of Billy. Tired of feeling like a burden.

“I fucking hate him,” you wail. “I hate him, I hate him. I hate him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him.”

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t,” you tell Eddie, and yourself. “Fuck him. Fuck California. Fuck everything.”

“That’s right baby,” Eddie whispers. He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re staying here with me.”

“With you.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Eventually you do get over it and decide that Billy and the Hellfire Girls don’t deserve any of your time and energy.

Just in time for another work shift. Today you’re doing personal lap dances at VECNA’S LAIR, but it’s not too busy so you’re essentially scanning the room in search of clients for the first hour.

Your eyes light up when you pinpoint a few regulars. You skip on over to the first one.

“Hi, Barry!” you exclaim. “How are you?”

“Oh, god! Hello Shy Girl!” Barry replies. He looks happy to see you, but oddly not particularly excited. “How…have you been?”

“I’ve been well! Long time no see!” you smile. “How are your boys?”

“They’re doing well,” your regular nods. “They’re working on their college applications right now, and the younger one has been scouted for some schools on the East Coast for football.”

“You must be so proud.”

“Very!”

It seems like Barry has cut the conversation there. Strange, because he almost always requests a dance. You decide to push for more information.

“Sooo, are you in the mood for a dance today?”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Barry blushes. “But no thank you, not today. I’m trying to save money so I’m just gonna have a drink and go.”

Now THAT’S really odd. First of all, Barry is LOADED, hence being a regular. And even if being frugal was the case, what was his ass even doing at Hellfire? You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by prying further so you just leave it at that, wishing Barry a lovely rest of his day and going about your day.

When you leave, you’re taken aback when Justice makes her way over to your client and asks him the same question.

“Hi, Barry. Would you like a dance?”

“Oh, hi! Yes, I’d love one!”

You nearly get whiplash just by how fast you crane your neck back over to them. What the actual fuck? Eyeing them curiously, you watch as Barry slips a 20 over to Justice, to which she takes from him seductively as she sinks onto his lap. Her eyes trail over to you, somewhat satisfied with herself when she sees you watching. Your blood starts to boil. She just took your regular. And in a sense, your money.

But that’s still something you don’t have time to entertain. So you strut over to your next regular, Asher.

Sweet, sweet Asher. He’s significantly younger than Barry. Finance major, freelancer, only child in his early twenties and his parents are rich. Asher has always been nice to you, and like Steve, spoils the fuck out of you when you’re his dancer.

“Hey you,” you bat your lashes at him. “Long time no see!”

“Oh my god, Shy Girl!” Asher exclaims. He doesn’t hug you like he usually does, but he’s still happy to see you. “It’s been a minute. I actually didn’t think you were coming in today.”

“I’m always on Thursdays,” you point out. “You always get a dance from me.”

“Ohhh, that’s right,” Asher recalls. “You and Eddie call today Friday Junior Junior.”

“Yeah, silly!” you giggle. “Speaking of dances, would you like one?”

Your question generates a similar reaction from Asher like Barry had given you. It was then that you knew something had to have been up. But nothing could’ve possibly prepared you for what Asher was about to say.

“Oh, no thanks!” your client gracefully declines. “I think I’ll wait until you fully recover. I hope you’re okay with that boundary of mine.”

Appalled, you try to construe what he meant by that.

“Yes, I respect your boundaries of course…” you say. “But, what do you mean by get better?”

“Aren’t you sick?” Asher questions. “And like…taking antibiotics for something serious? Cause if you are, you shouldn’t be at work.”

Asher respectfully ends your conversation right then and there. It’s like a mental door has closed on your face. Completely distraught, you walk away from your other reliable regular, just to have Lady walk up to him and be granted permission to give him a dance.

This is ridiculous. You need to get to the bottom of these rumors right away. On your way to the bar, you run into Nina. She extends her arms out to you, eyes widening as you walk towards her.

“OMG, Shy Girl!” Nina exclaims, rather panicked. “What are you doing here girl, you need to be home recovering?!”

“Recovering from what?” you snapped. “I just had TWO regulars turn me down but then say yes to dances from other dancers. Why did I have to learn through the grapevine that I’m sick?! Which I am not, by the way.”

“So… you don’t have gonorrhea?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“WHO THE FUCK SAID I HAD GONORRHEA?!”

Nina’s face drops when she realizes. You don’t even have to pry any further now. The pained look on your friend’s face told you EXACTLY who started that rumor.

Now those girls are pushing it. Because now you’re losing out on money and clientele. Absolutely aggravated, you storm back into the dressing room to collect yourself because you’re sure as hell not going to let them see you fall apart.

When you slam the door, you allow yourself to have a good cry. Luckily, Nina and Chrissy are the only ones in there with you. The only girls you trust at this establishment besides Nancy.

You’re not sad. You’re crying because you’re angry and frustrated. Nina and Chrissy understand, swarming you with hugs and validating back pats, letting you cry until you had no tears left to do so anymore.

“Shy Girl,” Nina frowns. “I have no words.”

Your bottom lip quivers profusely as you shake your head.

“I just don’t understand,” you choke. “Why are they so horrible to me? I didn’t do anything to them.”

“I’m really sorry love,” Chrissy rubs your back as she lays her head on your shoulder. “Unfortunately, I understand that all too well. They did the same thing to me too.”

STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT.

“God, you need a new car, Munson.”

You’re smoking with Eddie in his van during your ‘joint’ lunch break. It’s become a tradition now for you two to take your meals at the same time to spend time with each other because you’re both way too busy to be affectionate work.

“Babe, really?” Eddie huffs jokingly. “Put some respect on Shiela’s name. She’s been through hell and back with me.”

You giggle as you take a huge drag from your blunt, inhaling then expelling, coughing up the remainder and taking in the slight comfort of a warm chest. You pass Eddie the blunt to finish it.

“But you’re right though,” Eddie admits with a sigh. He fiddles with the blunt before putting it out on his ash tray. “The good news is I’m caught up on Wayne’s bills. Next 'big boy' purchase is a new whip.”

“That’s awesome baby,” you smile. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Or a motorcycle,” Eddie smirks. “I’d love a bike.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he quips.

Eddie leans over the center console to kiss your temple. When you hum in pleasure, he begins trailing down your neck.

“Thought you liked bad boys.”

You and Eddie proceed to have a healthy debate. It isn’t about the bad boy aesthetic like Eddie thinks it’s about, but more so the practicality of the situation. Eddie needs something to lug groceries in when he's out running errands, and with Wayne still getting active cancer treatments, the old man needs a ride to his appointments. And that poor man has aged out of the Bad-to-the-Bone 'cyclist scene, you’re afraid.

“Speaking of practicality,” Eddie says. He nods towards your red Toyota Camry that’s parked on the opposite end of the lot. “Why’d you park there? Move your car closer so I don't have to walk you too far tonight.”

You look through the rearview mirror to locate your baby. Eddie was right. It was parked further than it usually is, and if your boyfriend isn’t the one escorting you to your car tonight it’s going to be Henry or one of the other boys who are sure to complain. By the door would be convenient for everyone.

“Okay,” you say. You kiss him. “Be right back.”

You climb out of Eddie's van and make your way over to your car. After several tries, you hit a scary realization.

Your car won’t start.

You try again. And again, and again. Still, to no avail. Eddie eventually pops his head out, wondering why the ordeal is taking you so long. You exaggerate a shrug to him so he could see your sense of panic from a distance.

"What happened?!"

"It won't start!"

“Let me at her,” Eddie replies. “I was a mechanic before I started a business…”

You and Eddie switch places and you decide to wait for him by the door. Jonathan startles you a moment later when he opens it abruptly.

“Sorry, Shy Girl. The boys need Eddie for a minute can you go grab him for me?”

“He’s taking a look at my car, it won’t start,” you explain.

Jonathan’s face drops. “Oh no, that sucks. Hope you don’t have to take it in.”

“I hope so too. Either way I’ve got a ride home. It’s just inconvenient.”

Jonathan, whose knowledgeable about cars too, starts asking you some screening questions to help identify the problem. You assure him that nothing was wrong with it throughout the week, and there surely wasn’t anything wrong with it earlier.

Soon Chrissy comes out too.

“Hey!” she chimes. “Where’s Eddie? The boys are looking for him.”

“He’s looking at my car, something’s wrong with it,” you explain again. “It was fine this morning but when I went go move it, it kinda just—”

“Found the culprit,” Eddie grunts uneasily.

Your boyfriend waves you three over and you all follow suit. There's soot and grease all over your man's hands, but that is a kink to be explored much later. For now, the astonished look on his face is one of the main things to worry about.

Eddie points to your gas tank.

“There’s a shit ton of sugar there. The fuel in that tank is practically semi-solid.”

Sugar in your gas tank. THOSE BITCHES PUT SUGAR IN YOUR GAS TANK. You and Chrissy look at each other immediately, both of your suspicions about whose responsible practically ringing true.

“I know who fucking did it,” you shake your head.

“I-” Eddie’s face drops. He is utterly disappointed in the Hellfire Girls. “I just don’t even know what to say.”

He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. Suddenly, your phone pings. It’s a Venmo notification.

“But less saying more doing, right?” Eddie tries to chuckle optimistically. “I just sent you $2K. Wayne’s cancer is acting up again, and I have to take him to his oncologist tomorrow. You let me know if they quote you for more than that.”

“Two grand?!” you shriek. “It’s bad huh?”

“Yeah…I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it, sweetheart,” Eddie frowns. “You might need a fuel tank replacement.”

Now you and Chrissy are fuming. Nina eventually comes over to check on everyone as well and is stunned by the news she hears. She starts to angrily take off her hoops, those fucking cunts, but Jonathan stops her.

“I’ll fuck ‘em up!” Nina insists. “I’m from Nocturna, baby. We don’t mess around there.”

“My ex was from Chula, and my brother is Billy,” you tsk. “We don’t play around either.”

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll call the tow company to come take it to Dave’s. I can take you home tonight, baby. It’s no issue.”

“No!” Chrissy snaps. “Nina and I are taking her home. If there’s no issue here, fix the evident ones inside!”

“Let’s go back inside Shy Girl,” Nina grumbles. “This is ridiculous.”

Your two friends are at either sides of you, linking your arms with theirs in solidarity. Those girls inside are about to get an earful. NO ONE messes with YOU and gets away with it.

“EDDIE,” Chrissy forewarns before slamming the door. “FUCKING PUT THEM IN CHECK, OR WE WILL.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. Otherwise, you would totally be ripping some cheap extensions out out some heads right now. You can’t believe these girls would go as far as to damaging your property, all because Eddie found someone who made him happy after his shitty divorce. If you did to them what they did to you, you know they definitely wouldn’t like that.

CLOSED FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT DUE TO STAFFING ISSUES. SORRY FOR EDGING YOU :/

It was Eddie’s decision to close early because there was just so much that needed to be taken care of. But hearing Eddie scold and hold the girls accountable in his office, you know — the same office he was screwing you in — was music to your ears.

But even that state of bliss is short-lived. Because like a deadly virus, when the smear campaign doesn’t work, it mutates into a much larger issue: retaliation.

“See what happens when you snitch?” a voice demands. “Eddie loses out on business.”

You turn your head around to see Justice mad-dogging you with her arms crossed. You inflate your chest and stand up to her, showing no signs of intimidation.

“You’re fucking his shit up, just like his sorry ex wife,” she says to you.

You start to walk closer to her, to which Chrissy and Nina go after you right away.

“Woah woah woah there sister!” Chrissy stops you.

“Hey hey hey,” Nina joins in, helping her pull you away.

But Justice isn’t scared. Why should she be? She’s been here longer than you. She’s known Eddie longer than you. But she still has no business butting into Eddie’s. Especially if it fuels the fire that she and her friends desperately wanted to start.

“If I were y’all… I’d back the fuck up,” you advise her. “I don’t think you realize, but you’re fucking with a Hargrove.”

“Okay… and you’re fucking with Eddie’s Day Ones,” Lady comes to Justice’s defense, sneering at you condescendingly. “Sorry, Valley Girl, we don’t know what that means here in Hawkins.”

“Oh but you will. After damaging my rep AND property.”

“Oh was that a threat? You’re threatening us now huh?”

“Eddie’s not gonna fuck you,” Nina spits at them. “You do realize that right?”

“I mean…good,” Kassidy chuckles. “Wouldn’t wanna fuck him after Miss Gonorrhea did.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Do you accept the risk? Do you accept the risk?

All this time you thought Eddie was asking you because he knew he still had some baggage to sort through. But now you’re starting to wonder if there was a double meaning.

Eddie’s OG dancers are obviously in love with him, there’s no doubt about it. It stopped becoming a matter of “protecting Eddie” when they started sabotaging your experience at Hellfire after learning of your involvement with him. Had you been just another dancer, this would never have been the case.

Eddie tries to text you. But you don’t have the strength to reply. The next few days is spent in isolation, using this time alone to contemplate about what it is you truly want.

You came to Hawkins to escape Billy’s never-ending torment. Now that torment has seemed to take on a new form, and your inner peace is something you’re never ever going to sacrifice again.

Your first Monday back, you make your way over to Eddie’s office. And it’s almost like Eddie knows. As much as you know how deep that abandonment wound sits in Eddie’s soul, you knew you still had to put yourself first.

“Hi, Eds.”

“Baby…” Eddie pleads at a whisper. “Don’t do this. I can already see it in your eyes.”

You weren’t leaving him. You want to be with him more than anything. But this extension of him? You can love it to bits but still not want anything to do with it. Especially if the environment is unbearably toxic.

“I just think…our relationship is bleeding into work,” you swallow hard. “And I probably need to go somewhere else if we want this to last.”

“Please don’t word the first part like that…”

Eddie doesn’t tell you because he knows it’s not your intention, but it starts giving him war-like flashbacks to when his marriage with Isabelle started bleeding into work. The abandonment wound with her — and everyone in his life except Wayne — cuts so deep. He NEEDS that bandaid. But for your well-being, you needed to rip it off.

“It’s what we get for shitting where we eat, I guess,” you sniff, trying to laugh the burden of it all away.

“I warned you,” Eddie chokes. “Didn’t I?”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I just couldn’t help how I feel about you.”

“Then stay!” he begs. “The good outweighs the bad, sweetheart. Our friends love you so much.”

“I love them too, but if I’m gonna get verbally accosted, harassed, laughed at, and have sugar put in my gas tank then what’s the point?”

The tears leave Eddie’s eyes easily, and he doesn’t stop them from doing so. If only the Hellfire girls saw the pain they have caused you AND this man — the man they swore up and down that they were ‘protecting’.

“It’s either that or you fire 60 percent of your dancers and I WON’T let you do that,” you gulp. “It’s best to get rid of just one.”

“Just please, let’s talk it through.”

But there’s nothing left to talk about. No Eddie, you shake your head. What’s done is done, and what needs to be said has already been communicated. And as Eddie hangs his head in shame, you tug at the drawstrings of your cloak, fold it up neatly, and set it down on his desk.

“I’m quitting Hellfire.”

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Changed some numbers for this AU but yeah, ALL LITTLE SIBLINGS ARE NOW OLDER AND THEY'RE TND OPERATIVES!!!

Penny's there too because I say so. :3

Roles:

#363: Leader no one can stand, but at least he knows what he's doing... for the most part. Still, everyone wonders how he managed to get into the TND in first place since no one wants him around... welp. Older brother of Numbuh 362. The two can't stand each other and Rachel avoids him like the plague. He always screams at her.

#T: 2x4 technology expert, pilot and hacker. He knows any technology around. Sometimes you can catch him play some games when they have nothing to do. Never leaves without his C.E.L.L.P.H.O.N.E. (Compact Electronic Line Linking Pathway Holds Outer Network Expansion). Mostly silent, very chill, keeps to himself. Can't stand Mushi more than Harvey, if you can believe that.

Older brother of Hoagie Gilligan, aka Numbuh 2. The kid loves him and wants to hang out with him more but, as any teenager would, Tommy keeps him away from himself and his stuff and his room. But Hoagie knows he will know ALL his secrets, one day! Let's hope he doesn't find out he's also a TND spy in the Teen Ninja lines (he gets info from Father and passes it to KND, not a real bad guy!)...

#001: Second in command, everyone would prefer her to be the leader but... well. Very active teen, a bit of a tomboy, she's in charge to come up with plans and put them into action. Kids sometimes mistake her for a kid in a teen body.

Loves to skate, play videogames and dance. Works as a mermaid actor at the aquarium in the weekends. Dating Joey Beetles. Sometimes babysits Nigel Uno, who trusts her enough to ask his parents to adopt her so they can be siblings. She... actually loves the idea... but it's impossible.

#40: Weapon and combat expert, especially for sport related actions. Can't talk at all and speaks using his V.O.I.S. (Vocal Operator Imitating Sounds) to speak. Thanks to that, he can use any voice he manages to sample, kind of like an AI.

Very active, plays many sports and he's good at all of them, especially dodge ball. Dating Penelope Doe.

Older brother of Wallabee Beetles, aka Numbuh 4. The two used to be inseparable, but since Wally joined the KND, he kind of drifted away because "teens are the enemy". It broke Joey's heart but... what can you do.

#30: Spy extraordinaire and camouflage master. She can turn anyone into a different person in a make-up session. Someone might say she's too good at that... like she's hiding something.

She's the school queen, a cheerleader, everyone wants to be associated with her. She's also very intelligent and good at art. She's perfect! But somehow, Tommy doesn't like her. Nerds...

Older sister of Kuki Sanban, aka Numbuh 3. The two seem to be very close, playing together and sharing everything, from make-up to clothes (well, those that fit...).

Sometimes Kuki accidentally reveals her KND plans to her, eheh, so silly! Mushi always has a good laugh telling them to her team!

No, I'm not talking about the TND...

No one suspects anything. Not even Tommy, since she never revealed her face while working for Father.

[dyeher]

High Stakes| Ran H.

Includes| secret agent! Ran Haitani x secret agent! Reader

Warnings| fem! reader, violence, murder, mentioned gambling, implied harassment, guns, mirror sex, dry humping, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Notes| mwah! another repost.

Ran is making plans to return to the Bloody Lotus when he’s not working. Bright eyes scan the clientele, and fingers drum the side of his glass, he decides he likes the energy. Rich people are always eager to spend their earnings, to show off their pregnant coin purses and boast about investments and returns and how they’ve recently deprived the world of another useless piece of art that costs more than it has any right to. Rich people paired with alcohol makes this place a breeding ground for ‘Too Much Information’. Ran affectionately calls it TMI, and it’s the reason he’s here tonight. To collect some of that.

When he returns though, when he’s off the clock, he’ll be here for the pretty call girls and the lacquered cards that are screaming his name. Absently he raises his glass to his lips. Tonight he is not Ran Haitani, Agent 001. Tonight he is simply Ran Haitani, one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, and a potential investor in whatever business venture Izana Kurokawa has cooked up.

He glances around the lobby, careful not to make eye contact with you as the balding man’s hand snags on the exposed flesh of your upper thigh. Ran’s grip on his glass tightens reflexively. He reminds himself that if he kills Lorano now they’re fucked and you would’ve been groped for no reason. He remains quiet, pretending to take in the brightly lit room with its marbled floor and high ceiling.

To his left is the entrance to the VIP section where he’s currently perched at the bar. It’s a pair of glass doors flanked on either side by two large men dressed to the nines but sporting firearms. Through the glass, he can see regular patrons, the upper-middle-class dressed in their best and whispering to each other over glasses of overpriced champagne. Some are gambling their way down the social ladder without really paying any attention to it.

To his right is the entrance to Izana’s private quarters. Well, for the most part. To his right actually stands a set of hand-carved mahogany double doors. Those doors don’t lead anywhere. Behind them is an elevator leading to the rooftop of this fine establishment and the only true way to access Izana’s quarters is from the rooftop entrance. A little way off from those doors is a simple nondescript door that leads to the stairwell on the inside of the building. The stairwell gets as high as the private rooms of Izana’s friends. If all went well Ran would be on that floor within the hour.

He’s brought out of his reverie when you warble spilling a little of the drink in your tray onto Lorano. He’s impressed by your ability to mold into any character as he listens through the earpiece. You lay on a faux Italian accent, as you scramble to apologize that immediately has Lorano perking up, and Ran has to sip from his glass to cover his disgust when one of the buttons on the man’s shirt pops open at the movement.

Izana dresses his female employees in the most ridiculous things. Tonight’s number is a sheer black leotard, the front covered in some sort of stitched design that just barely covers your breasts, the back so low it dips beneath the band of the too-tight, too-short black skirt paired with it. The shoes are strappy and wound all the way up to above your knee. The heel and platform are so high that Ran winces internally as he watches the ease with which some of these girls can maneuver the tables and crowd in them.

He’s whispering to you in rapid-fire Italian, things Ran wishes he didn’t understand, promises to treat you right, questions about how long you’ll be working for. His grubby hands trail down to your thigh when you bend across him to replace his drink and even from this distance Ran can see the way your fingers on the tray flex.

An irrational amount of pride swells in his gut when your smile doesn’t even waiver, and for a second he’s so transfixed he almost doesn’t hear when one of Lorano’s lackeys bends into his other ear to let him know Izana was ready for him. Ran’s heart slows, his eyes locking with yours as he starts moving. Based on Wakasa’s intel Izana’s meetings are held on the roof, and there should be a viewing room on that floor. Only one elevator goes to that floor and it requires either Izana’s Identification card or the code, a code only he knows. Ran subtly adjusts the face of his watch, a beautiful Patek Phillipe piece he’d paid Inui out of pocket to have modified. He chuckles when he reaches the door of the stairwell and Wakasa’s voice filters through his ear.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little when Lorano asked if she eats ass,” Ran can hear Wakasa’s shudder. He uses the knuckle on his index to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, activating the screen on the camera on the left screen. “Take a step back Ran, need to see the entire door.” Ran shuffles back feigning glancing at the floor in front of the door and then back up. “Thank you,” Wakasa says, and Ran fidgets as he begins to count down in his head. “You ready big guy? You have thirty seconds to climb three flights of stairs before the camera’s auto-reboot.”

Ran glances to his left and right quickly before nodding. “Go.”

He doesn’t even register the door slamming behind him as he flies up the stairs. He’s mastered the art of running in suits at this point. His chain lifts with his movements until finally, he catches the pendant between his teeth to stop it. He uses the rail to hoist himself up, taking the stairs four at a time until the leather sole of his shoe lands on the dark marble of the top floor. He skids a little, catching himself on the wall. “Twenty-six seconds,” Wakasa tells him. “Not bad.”

Ran chuckles. “You talk too much Wakasa. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” Wakasa retorts. “Every time we work together.”

“Lorano’s on his way up,” your voice interrupts them both. “And I’m coming with him.”

Ran tenses. “That was not part of the fucking plan,” he says as he stalks the length of the hall. He passes his room, heading for the elevator. He watches as the numbers change.

“Yeah but it’s smarter than the original,” Wakasa admits. “If she gets up there Izana’ll send her back down because employees aren’t allowed on that floor. Which means she’ll control the elevator.”

Ran curses, because Wakasa’s right. “Fuck.” He watches as the elevator gets to the top floor and then ten minutes later he watches as it begins its descent. The impromptu change works and Ran finds himself face to face with you not thirty seconds later.

“Camera’s are down,” Wakasa announces. “Double-loop so it looks like she came off the elevator. Shouldn’t have any issues if no one is standing at the elevator doors.”

And no one is standing there. In fact, getting into the viewing area is too easy, not only that but they find that it’s not just a viewing area. Ran takes a good scan of the room following Wakasa’s instructions until they land on a row of computers and Wakasa almost moans in both your ears. It’s the central command.

“I despise Izana Kurokawa,” he hisses. “I hope he knows I’m praying for his downfall. Specifically, because this setup is so beautiful he doesn’t deserve it.”

Ran glances at you out of the corner of his eye and almost swallows his tongue when he finds you squatting at one of the outlets. Your ass stretches the material of the skirt and Ran has to force himself to look away as you get on your knees to press the switch. One of the older computers lights up next to Ran and Wakasa honest-to-gods giggles.

“Ran, plug the flash drive in there,” Wakasa instructs. “Turn it on and where is my beautiful little amateur hacker. Get your ass over here.”

Ran tunes in to the conversation between Izana and Lorano, looking out through the glass at them from his spot. Izana as always is dressed in some elaborate get up, his second in command stands to his left his arms folded and the disgust in his expression clear as he looks at Lorano.

“It’s quite simple,” Izana is saying. “You join me, I get control of your men, I pay you to speak when spoken to.”

Lorano looks torn. “It’s not that simple, my men will not respect me anymore,” he tries to explain.

“Lorano,” Izana coos. “Your men don’t pay you. Your men are ungrateful pigs. Your men are incompetent criminals. Your men are failures as men. Their respect for you isn’t worth hot shit even if it came from a god.” Izana’s men laugh and Ran winces at the shade of red Lorano turns. “Think about the respect you’ll earn from the rest of Japan when they find you’re associated with me.”

This seems to give Lorano pause and Ran scoffs. He wonders what Izana might have offered him if he planned to stick around long enough to hear.

“How much are you offering?” Lorano finally says.

“I’m offering you a salary,” Izana says slowly, in case Lorano misunderstood. “Not a percentage cut of the shit I make.”

Lorano swallows, and the microchip in the collar of his shirt picks up the sound extra loudly. Ran almost gags. “How much?”

“Five hundred thousand dollars a month,” Izana says and Ran is appalled at the way Lorano immediately agrees. He wonders if Lorano knows that he’s signing this document in his blood. And just as Ran expected when Izana verifies that Lorano has in fact signed over his properties and his men he opens his palm and Ran shifts when a gun is placed in it. “It was great doing business with you,” Izana frowns and Lorano doesn’t have time to scream before the gun goes off and his pudgy body is falling face first into his dinner, blood mixing with the delicacies on the plate. Ran’s thoughts are interrupted by Wakasa’s curse.

“What?” he snaps turning back to where you’re tapping away at the computer screen.

“You’ve got company,” Wakasa says quickly. “Fuck. Two incoming looks like Izana’s personal guard and the Head of Security.”

Ran’s head snaps to the door when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps coming down the corridor. “How much longer, angel?”

You tap away at the keyboard rapidly. “We’re at 87%,” you scramble to type faster but Ran’s already dragging you away from the desk. “What the fuck are you—”

“You can punch me in the face afterward,” he whispers quickly. And then he’s kissing you. Tentatively at first, just a soft brushing of his lips that immediately has you relaxing in his hold. One large hand cups your face to angle your head better and the other dips into the base of your spine, curling you closer to him. His fingertips are warm as they trail the length of your spine. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shudder, your nipples pebbling in the thin material at the contact. You’re frozen, struck dumb by the gentleness of his kiss, eyes wide open so you see the way long lashes brush the tops of his cheeks.

Ran pulls back just far enough to growl against your mouth. “Kiss me back, angel.” And then he’s running the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip and they’re parting to let him in. His tongue is eager and warm and so soft as it brushes confidently at yours that your toes curl.

Your body presses closer to his, your hands winding around his shoulders as you kiss him back. It’s the consent he needed. The kiss grows intense, Ran’s tongue dipping farther, his head slanting to deepen the kiss. You’re suddenly reminded of your lack of underwear when Ran’s hand comes up to grasp the back of your head, the one cupping your face drops to your thigh as he backs you into the desk. He hoists you onto the surface easily, your body displacing the keyboard, and stack of papers next to it. His grip on your thigh slips to the back of your knee and he hikes it up around his waist, to slot himself between your legs, bending you back a little so you’re propped against the monitor.

“Fuck,” he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair. You tug his head back harshly, desperation making your movements a little rough as you press sloppy, lipstick stain kisses along the side of his neck and the column of his throat. You wonder if he’s wanted to do this as bad as you have. If he’s ever lost sleep thinking about the contours of your body the way you have. Or imagined the softness of your lips, the taste of your mouth, the feel of your hands on him. Because you’ve spent countless nights with your fingers between the folds of your pussy, rubbing circles into your clit imagining they’re Ran Haitani’s fingers or his tongue. Many nights with your dildo pumping furiously into you imagining it’s Ran Haitani’s cock molding and shaping your insides for him.

The guards are forgotten as Ran presses the length of his body to yours. The hard outline of his cock rubs into the damp crotch of your leotard when you finally bring your lips back to his. Your kissing becomes frantic and sloppy. Ran devours your mouth, fucking it with his tongue in a way you know he’d easily replicate in your cunt. Your body bucks when his fingers climb your thigh, his knuckles rubbing the sensitive skin as it inches higher. You moan into his mouth and Ran’s responding chuckle sends chills down your spine.

“Bet you’ve soaked through this flimsy thing,” he mumbles, lips not pulling away far enough for you to focus on his features. His kisses move from your lips down to your neck and throat. “Probably got a messy little pussy.”

You whine, arching as though you can get any closer than you already are. Your fingers catch in his jacket as you try to push them off his shoulders. Ran eases back just enough to free his arms, dropping the jacket next to you as he resumes his previous position. You get a glimpse of how well he fills out the silk shirt beneath and realize this isn’t enough. You want to feel his skin, you want to rake your nails down his back and mark him with your teeth. Just as you think this Ran’s teeth latch onto the erogenous area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your moan is absolutely wanton. You feel him shudder in your arms as he reaches for the strap of the onesie and rips it down your arm freeing one of your breasts for his hungry mouth. It’s only as you toss your head back, lips parted on a sigh at the gentle sucking of Ran’s mouth on your nipple, to give him better access to your body, that you see the two men in the doorway.

Your squeak of surprise is genuine as your hand scrambles to clutch Ran’s shoulders. The sound seems to snap both men out of their stupor and you watch as they straighten to their full height. Your mind clears quickly, embarrassment sinking like lead in the pit of your stomach at your actions. Ran’s grin is lazy, almost natural as he glances over his shoulder, you’re grateful for the width of him as he angles his body to block out whatever view they might’ve had of you. One of Ran’s hands still clutches your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as though he knows you’re struggling to get it together.

“Gentlemen?” Ran’s smile falters perfectly, even the breathless hitch in his tone is staged. It feels like a bucket of ice water has been doused on you. Of course. Of course, none of this was real. He’d just saved both your asses. You wonder if he knows you weren’t acting. You tense in his arms and his grip on your waist tightens. “Can we help you?”

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” the shorter one says. Even from here, you can tell he’s the scarier and more than likely Izana’s head of security. Bleached buzzcut with parallel strips of his natural hair color running from the corners of his hairline back. You might’ve giggled at the fact that he resembled a tennis ball if he didn’t pull his gun. His eyes narrow when Ran frowns and glances at you.

“Sorry? Is this not the guest floor?” Ran’s confusion is so convincing you almost don’t feel when he slips the flash drive up your thighs. It takes all of your self-control not to react as his fingers dip into the sticky mess between your thighs and slide the flash drive flat across the crotch of the leotard. Your hand snaps out to clutch his arm and he chuckles. “She’s a needy thing,” he shrugs. “Couldn’t quite make it to my room.”

The taller one adjusts his glasses and steps into the room and Tennis ball follows him. “How’d you get up here, Mr. Haitani?”

Ran blinks at him like he’s stupid. “The elevator?” You squirm in his arms, playing your part as the brainless, shy employee, who’ll probably get in trouble for fraternizing with one of Izana’s VIP guests. Ran straightens to his full height, fixing the straps of your onesie and closing your legs as he turns to face both men. He stands a little shorter than the one with the glasses but he’s broader and you know that if this comes down to a fight you could take the taller one while Ran takes the other. “What’s really going on here? Have I done something wrong?” His tone is carefully accusing.

Glasses sighs through his nose. He knows there’s no way Ran should’ve gotten to this floor undetected but starting a fight with one of Izana’s friends is the last thing he needs to do right now. “This floor is off-limits to guests. They lead to Mr. Kurokawa’s private rooms.”

Ran’s expression morphs into a perfect mask of embarrassment and regret. You hope the horror in your expression as you clamber to your feet, swaying a little in your heels is convincing. “Ah, sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got a little distracted,” he motions with his thumb to you over his shoulder and you look away. “We can move.”

He reaches for his jacket when Tennis ball chips in. “Wait a minute,” he says, slipping his gun back into the holster. “You’re not leaving until we search you.”

Ran bristles as they expect him to, head jerking back like he’s been slapped. His jaw clenches, fingers flexing. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said Mr. Haitani,” Tennis ball snatches Ran’s jacket and passes it to Glasses who begins to rummage through the pockets. “Spread your legs for me.” Ran tenses but does as he’s told.

The flash drive feels like it’s weighing you down as Ran gets the all-clear and Glasses starts toward you. “Seriously?” Ran scoffs. “She’s half-naked, where the fuck would she hide anything?”

That seems to give both men pause. You make sure to shudder for good measure as they step aside. Ran grabs your arm glaring at both men as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and guides you out of the room. Glasses follows after you, making a quick call for someone to send the elevator down before taking you both down to the VIP floor. “This is you,” he says nodding at Ran as he leads you out of the elevator.

Ran takes you to his room and as soon as the doors are closed you shrug off his jacket. Your heart is pounding in your chest. That could’ve gone horribly. Your hands are trembling as you wobble over to the spacious bathroom.

“You still make the prettiest sounds,” Wakasa’s voice comes over the earpiece, and you yelp, stumbling back and almost falling onto your ass. In the midst of everything it seems you’d both forgotten about Wakasa. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says gently. “Just thought you should know. They’re the still prettiest I’ve ever heard.”

“Wakasa,” you hiss. “Can Ran-

“He can’t,” Wakasa reassures you. “I muted us. I’m gonna take these off until you’re out of this room. In case, you want to finish what you started.” You open your mouth to argue that you were just trying to save your asses when Wakasa continues. “And before you tell me you were just trying to stay alive try to remember how well I know you.”

There’s a distinct click and you know Wakasa can no longer hear you. A tentative knock sounds on the door and Ran’s voice carries through the wood. “You good in there?” He asks. “We got what we came for, we can leave.”

His comment reminds you of his earlier actions and you immediately reach between your thighs and pull the slippery flash drive free, yank open the door and slap it against his chest. “Yeah,” you say giddily. “I’m about ready to go.” And then you haul your fist back and slam it into his nose. “Do not ever do some shit like that again,” you snap. “Next time we fucking kill them.”

Ran’s eyes darken, as he clutches his nose. It’s not broken but it hurts like a motherfucker and he’s not at all surprised when he inhales and it burns. His eyes water as he glares at you incredulously. “You’re not serious.”

“Deathly,” you say, releasing the flash drive so he has to scramble to catch it. It’s soaked in your arousal, the scent heady as he clutches it. You poke him in the chest. “If you ever, ever touch me like that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

Silence envelopes you for a few seconds and then Ran chuckles. You’re about to snap at him again when his hand wraps around your throat. “You’re so transparent,” he smirks. “I bet you’re not even mad I touched you.” He squeezes your throat, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “You’re probably mad because we were interrupted,” he drops the flash drive on the counter. “Mad that you didn’t get to cum.” He’s slowly cutting off the blood flow to your head, his fingers pressing into the blood vessels on either side of your neck. “Wanted me to clean up the mess I made of your pussy?”

His free arm wraps around your waist and lifts you onto the counter, your hands immediately reach for the wrist of the hand around your throat, your nails dig into the soft flesh as he scoots back onto the counter and spreads your legs to make room for him. You’re dizzy by the time his grip loosens. “Answer me,” his voice softens to just above a whisper, his finger massaging your neck gently. “Do you want me to clean up the mess I made, angel? Is that what this is about?”

You almost shake your head but Ran gives you a look. Like he’ll know if you’re lying. Like you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. So you nod, swallowing when he flashes you a beautiful smile. “Yeah? But I need to hear you say it,” he breathes. “Say ‘Please eat my pussy Ran’. Go on.”

His hand has reached your jaw and his thumb is rubbing distracting little circles into the side of your bottom lip as you repeat after him. A not of breathlessness in your voice. “Please- please eat my pussy Ran.”

His groan as he leans forward to kiss the spot he’d been rubbing has your heart rate increasing, the organ beating wildly at his words. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you.” He drops to his knees, careful to work your feet out of your heels before he kisses the inside of one ankle and then your calf that he massages and then the inside of your knee and then the fat of your thighs until he’s propping that foot on the edge of the counter and then he does the same to the other. Showering them in kisses, massaging them until they’re jelly and then he’s easing your skirt over your thighs. Working it down to your ankles and discarding it next to him on the floor. He’s almost reverent. The way he treats your body, and it makes sense. Because it feels a lot like he’s worshipping you.

He takes a moment to take you in. The leotard is cut higher than he’d initially expected and he almost salivates as he watches you bring your legs back up to the counter, butterflying them open for him. An entire lip of your pussy has escaped the scrap of material that should be covering it. He can’t help himself when he leans forward to suck the poor flesh into his mouth. And the sound he makes when he finally gets your taste on his tongue makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. One hand wraps loosely around an ankle as he shuffles closer, his nose brushing into your cunt as he pulls back with a wet smack only to latch onto the ruined material between your thighs. His other hand rests in the juncture of your thigh, his thumb pulling apart your pussy. “Look how fucking pretty that is,” he whispers to himself, as strings of arousal stretch and snap each time he repeats the movement. “Fucking hell.”

You reach for his head, fingers sinking into his hair to tug him closer. “Fuck,” you whine. “Ran!” Your body bows when he pushes the material to the side and properly buries his tongue into your cunt. He fucks you with it like you imagine he’d fuck you with his cock. His head bobbing, nose bumping into your clit. He groans again at the rush of liquid that floods his mouth as you squirm.

Ran’s hands press your legs a little wider when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He watches, eyes wide, lips parted and glistening with your arousal as the spit drips down to your entrance. He drops his head between your legs again just give your clit a soft kiss. He chuckles when you whine his name, your hold on him slackening when he dips the index of one finger into your cunt. Your body swallows him eagerly, your walls squeezing around the digit. He removes it to add another two to it, his brows furrowing as he watches the way your cunt struggles to take those three fingers. “Shit and you’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

You squeal when he stands, fingers still buried in your pussy, to kiss you. He swallows every little noise you make, every whine and gasp as he works your cunt open diligently. Maybe if you weren’t so distracted you might’ve questioned why he’d need to stretch you out this well. But you’re cumming with a soft keen of his name, shuddering in his arms as he fucks you through it. The sound your pussy makes when Ran finally pulls his fingers free makes you burn with embarrassment but the way he casually stuffs those fingers into his mouth, lids fluttering at your taste. He strips with one hand, dragging his silk shirt off and quickly undoing his belt buckle.

By the time his cock springs free you’ve wiggled your way out of the last piece of clothing and you’re dizzy with anticipation. Your first reaction is apprehension. Ran’s cock is thick and heavy, the weight enough to have it hanging between his thighs. He’s also a little longer than average with a fat mushroomed head. Your second reaction is desperation. Imagining the stretch of your pussy to accommodate his cock has you shuffling to the edge of the counter, eyes wide as you reach for his cock to rest it against your cunt.

“Shit,” Ran hisses when his cock makes contact with the slick lips of your pussy. He’s bucking his hips almost instinctively, one hand pressing his cock in place as he fucks your pussy lips steadily. And the picture Ran Haitani makes drunk on you before he’s even slid his cock inside you is enough to have your eyes watering. He’s beautiful. His hair in disarray, sticking to his forehead and standing askew from your hands, his lips swollen from your kisses, his skin flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and his eyes. Hooded and bright with an emotion you cannot identify.

You’re so distracted by him that you don’t register he’s shifted his cock down to your entrance until the head of his cock squeeze into your hole and you choke on a gasp. Ran kisses you then, a slow, deep affair that wipes your mind of any coherent thought. Your stomach flip flops when he pulls you closer to him, wrapping your legs around his body as he wraps his arms around you. The position is so intimate something pangs inside you. Every lap of Ran’s tongue coincides with an inch he’s fucked into you. You’re shaking when you feel his hips bump into your thighs and he’s still not stopped kissing you.

He fucks you there, in short strokes that rubs the head of his cock into your g spot. Kissing you until you can’t breathe and then barely giving you time to catch your breath as he proceeds to tell you about how good you feel. ‘Never felt a pussy like yours angel’, ‘’m never leaving you alone’, ‘’s my pussy now, the best pussy’, ‘tell me it’s mine, tell me it’s my pussy, please’. They’re a mix between a whine and a growl as he begs and grunts and threatens your life and the life of every other man you’ve fucked. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever encountered and your body agrees. When your orgasm slams into you you have to drag your lips away from Ran to scream. A garbled mix of his name and thanks, as he fucks you through it, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering as he chases his own high.

You’re both weak in the knees by the time Ran pulls out of you. The silence isn’t awkward as you clean each other up. “So my pussy is your huh?” you say later as you’re waiting in the conference hall for Wakasa and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he answers without missing a beat, expression brightening when he catches your smile. “And I really will kill you if you try anything stupid.”

Your smile falls. “What?”

“A bullet right between your eyes,” he holds up finger guns aiming one between your brows. “Pop. Pop,” he chuckles. “I dare you to act dumb.”

You can only swallow around the mounting arousal in your gut because you think you’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. And based no the slightly crazed look in his eye as Wakasa enters the room you know this is not one of those times.

[raeniskaies]

how to fix your mindset ♡

- your mindset is one of the most powerful things in the world . how you depict the world , what you believe , can absolutely change it all . .

001 , respect yourself

- so most of you attend school , right ? whenever you talk to the teacher , you call them by their honorific titles or speak to them with respect . or if you meet a stranger , you greet them and ask how they are. now , forget about teachers or strangers , imagine you are greeting a member of the royal family , you curtsy or bow towards them with a great amount of respect. you are a member of the royal family. every single morning , look in the mirror and tell yourself you deserve a great amount of respect and you deserve the freaking world . don't expect anybody to love you if you don't even like yourself ! look at your room. is it messy ? if so , go clean it right now because having the place where you sleep , study and lounge be messy is extremely disrespectful to yourself. not having the respect or even a frick to clean after yourself is disrespectful to you and you might not even realise it. treat yourself like you're the most precious thing in the world because honey , you are .

002 , stop being lazy + pathetic

- you may be still searching on how to stop being lazy or how to get back up. do it. I don't care if you're tired because whose fault is that ? some people can not afford to be lazy. the financially struggling can not afford to be lazy. the single parents can not afford to be lazy. the workers can not afford to be lazy. you sit around on your butt all day watching tiktok or reading tumblr blogs or whatever to do absolutely nothing. God has given you the gift of life , out of billions , you were the one to be placed on this earth and you spend your life doing nothing ? don't say you're unlucky or your life is terrible. that's absolutely pathetic. let that be your motivation. it's okay to take breaks or rest but please get back on track. only the privileged can afford to be lazy.

003 , don't follow people around - you're not a dog

- have you watched ' mean girls ' ? had you seen gretchen and karen ? did you notice how they follow regina ? don't be like them , don't waste your time , your life on following someone like they own you. don't seek someone's attention like you live off of it ; you don't ! it's also disrespectful to yourself because you're lowering yourself to the position of a dog or any other pet , following it's master to the end of their time. life is only once. use your time on something more important.

004 , idgaf

- please don't care if somebody hates or dislikes you. they are just jealous. no seriously , they spend most of their time obsessing over you and your life just to " hate on it " , they're jealous , hun. also face it , we are all going to die , life is too short to care about it , you are way more important to just worry your pretty little head on some obsessive parasite !

" so and so said this about you - " okay.

" they said this - " okay.

okay. idgaf.

005 , life is survival of the fittest

- your future matters. your teen years go way too fast and before you know it , you're already grown up. get a decent education. get to the top.

my mother always tells me I am pretty , I am smart , I have potential and I actually do. at the age of 10 she would already know what private university she would attend and she would have that as her number one goal. 5 years later , she travelled away from all of her family , her friends , her home to reach her dream ( the uni ) and she did. she knows others who have done the exact same as her who are billionaires and others who haven't who are financially struggling. throughout her parenting ( the first couple years were an extremely tough time for her ) journey , not one person , not even her bestest friends had come to our home offering gifts or money , not even for her kids. everybody else is focusing on their own families and their lifes ! if you have an opportunity , take it , like my mother had + be prepared ! because at the end of the day , in 10 years , your " friend " will not pay your rent.

006 , your mind is blind but not deaf

- your brain has no eyes of some sort that can lookout and know what's happening. whatever you tell your brain is happening , that's what it will believe , e . g ::

♡ " I'm ugly " then you'll be ugly. you'll perceive yourself as ugly.

♡ " I can't achieve anything " then you won't. you'll get nothing done in your life.

instead , tell yourself affirmations in the mirror , remind yourself that you're absolutely stunning ! it will come true !

007 , every setback is a blessing in disguise // see the bright things in everything

- now I do not care how bad something was , or how much it had impacted you , that is a blessing in disguise from God. God has your back. God is with you 24 / 7. He is greater than everything in the entire world. Don't ever erase that from your mind if something as small as not being able to go to your bestie's bday party or having strict parents. When I moved to the other side of the world , I felt like my life was over. 2 months later , I realised how toxic some of my old " friends " were and I got amazing opportunities where I live now. " When a door closes , another one opens " that is one of the most truthful sayings ever.

008 , don't wallow in your own self pity like a pig

- did you lose a competition or your partner broke up with you ? its okay to feel sad and you can cry about it but afterwards , get up. Move on. im sorry but nobody really cares. "oh my life is so unfair" so is everybody else's ? Get over it , please ! you can try another competition and your ex was clearly not for you so move on. nobody will care because they have their own problems to deal with. they may say sorry or give you a pat on the back but that's it. It won't change anything. they will be a whole lot ahead of you whilst you're still in the same spot in life , wallowing in your own self pity. whether you like it or not , life moves on and nobody cares , ml ♡

009 , set boundaries

- do you not like it when someone makes fun of you or touches you in a way you don't like ? you do not have to endure that , honey ! set your boundaries and if someone breaks them , take a break / leave them ! if they cannot respect your boundaries , they don't deserve you ! ♡

010 , drop toxic people

- it doesn't matter if you've been friends with them since kindergarten , or you don't want to seem mean. drop toxic people. this includes "friends" who just talk about themselves and say things like "oh , my life sucks" all the time , put everything in a negative mood. they don't deserve you. don't ruin your mental health over someone else , ml ! ♡

sorry if I sounded mean , I'm just trying to be honest !! ♡