#it's a very small business they only have the owner as a model but there are plenty of plus size pics customers sent in

[bakersgrief]

Nothing more punk than harassing a small business owner am I right guys

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to shatter the class solidarity of the ruling class

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me WEDNESDAY (Apr 11) at UCLA, then Chicago (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Audre Lorde counsels us that "The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master's House," while MLK said "the law cannot make a man love me, but it can restrain him from lynching me." Somewhere between replacing the system and using the system lies a pragmatic – if easily derailed – course.

Lorde is telling us that a rotten system can't be redeemed by using its own chosen reform mechanisms. King's telling us that unless we live, we can't fight – so anything within the system that makes it easier for your comrades to fight on can hasten the end of the system.

Take the problems of journalism. One old model of journalism funding involved wealthy newspaper families profiting handsomely by selling local appliance store owners the right to reach the townspeople who wanted to read sports-scores. These families expressed their patrician love of their town by peeling off some of those profits to pay reporters to sit through municipal council meetings or even travel overseas and get shot at.

In retrospect, this wasn't ever going to be a stable arrangement. It relied on both the inconstant generosity of newspaper barons and the absence of a superior way to show washing-machine ads to people who might want to buy washing machines. Neither of these were good long-term bets. Not only were newspaper barons easily distracted from their sense of patrician duty (especially when their own power was called into question), but there were lots of better ways to connect buyers and sellers lurking in potentia.

All of this was grossly exacerbated by tech monopolies. Tech barons aren't smarter or more evil than newspaper barons, but they have better tools, and so now they take 51 cents out of every ad dollar and 30 cents out of ever subscriber dollar and they refuse to deliver the news to users who explicitly requested it, unless the news company pays them a bribe to "boost" their posts:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

The news is important, and people sign up to make, digest, and discuss the news for many non-economic reasons, which means that the news continues to struggle along, despite all the economic impediments and the vulture capitalists and tech monopolists who fight one another for which one will get to take the biggest bite out of the press. We've got outstanding nonprofit news outlets like Propublica, journalist-owned outlets like 404 Media, and crowdfunded reporters like Molly White (and winner-take-all outlets like the New York Times).

But as Hamilton Nolan points out, "that pot of money…is only large enough to produce a small fraction of the journalism that was being produced in past generations":

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/what-will-replace-advertising-revenue

For Nolan, "public funding of journalism is the only way to fix this…If we accept that journalism is not just a business or a form of entertainment but a public good, then funding it with public money makes perfect sense":

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/public-funding-of-journalism-is-the

Having grown up in Canada – under the CBC – and then lived for a quarter of my life in the UK – under the BBC – I am very enthusiastic about Nolan's solution. There are obvious problems with publicly funded journalism, like the politicization of news coverage:

https://www.theguardian.com/media/2023/jan/24/panel-approving-richard-sharp-as-bbc-chair-included-tory-party-donor

And the transformation of the funding into a cheap political football:

https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/poilievre-defund-cbc-change-law-1.6810434

But the worst version of those problems is still better than the best version of the private-equity-funded model of news production.

But Nolan notes the emergence of a new form of hedge fund news, one that is awfully promising, and also terribly fraught: Hunterbrook Media, an investigative news outlet owned by short-sellers who pay journalists to research and publish damning reports on companies they hold a short position on:

https://hntrbrk.com/

For those of you who are blissfully distant from the machinations of the financial markets, "short selling" is a wager that a company's stock price will go down. A gambler who takes a short position on a company's stock can make a lot of money if the company stumbles or fails altogether (but if the company does well, the short can suffer literally unlimited losses).

Shorts have historically paid analysts to dig into companies and uncover the sins hidden on their balance-sheets, but as Matt Levine points out, journalists work for a fraction of the price of analysts and are at least as good at uncovering dirt as MBAs are:

https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2024-04-02/a-hedge-fund-that-s-also-a-newspaper

What's more, shorts who discover dirt on a company still need to convince journalists to publicize their findings and trigger the sell-off that makes their short position pay off. Shorts who own a muckraking journalistic operation can skip this step: they are the journalists.

There's a way in which this is sheer genius. Well-funded shorts who don't care about the news per se can still be motivated into funding freely available, high-quality investigative journalism about corporate malfeasance (notoriously, one of the least attractive forms of journalism for advertisers). They can pay journalists top dollar – even bid against each other for the most talented journalists – and supply them with all the tools they need to ply their trade. A short won't ever try the kind of bullshit the owners of Vice pulled, paying themselves millions while their journalists lose access to Lexisnexis or the PACER database:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/24/anti-posse/#when-you-absolutely-positively-dont-give-a-solitary-single-fuck

The shorts whose journalists are best equipped stand to make the most money. What's not to like?

Well, the issue here is whether the ruling class's sense of solidarity is stronger than its greed. The wealthy have historically oscillated between real solidarity (think of the ultrawealthy lobbying to support bipartisan votes for tax cuts and bailouts) and "war of all against all" (as when wealthy colonizers dragged their countries into WWI after the supply of countries to steal ran out).

After all, the reason companies engage in the scams that shorts reveal is that they are profitable. "Behind every great fortune is a great crime," and that's just great. You don't win the game when you get into heaven, you win it when you get into the Forbes Rich List.

Take monopolies: investors like the upside of backing an upstart company that gobbles up some staid industry's margins – Amazon vs publishing, say, or Uber vs taxis. But while there's a lot of upside in that move, there's also a lot of risk: most companies that set out to "disrupt" an industry sink, taking their investors' capital down with them.

Contrast that with monopolies: backing a company that merges with its rivals and buys every small company that might someday grow large is a sure thing. Shriven of "wasteful competition," a company can lower quality, raise prices, capture its regulators, screw its workers and suppliers and laugh all the way to Davos. A big enough company can ignore the complaints of those workers, customers and regulators. They're not just too big to fail. They're not just too big to jail. They're too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Would-be monopolists are stuck in a high-stakes Prisoner's Dilemma. If they cooperate, they can screw over everyone else and get unimaginably rich. But if one party defects, they can raid the monopolist's margins, short its stock, and snitch to its regulators.

It's true that there's a clear incentive for hedge-fund managers to fund investigative journalism into other hedge-fund managers' portfolio companies. But it would be even more profitable for both of those hedgies to join forces and collude to screw the rest of us over. So long as they mistrust each other, we might see some benefit from that adversarial relationship. But the point of the 0.1% is that there aren't very many of them. The Aspen Institute can rent a hall that will hold an appreciable fraction of that crowd. They buy their private jets and bespoke suits and powdered rhino horn from the same exclusive sellers. Their kids go to the same elite schools. They know each other, and they have every opportunity to get drunk together at a charity ball or a society wedding and cook up a plan to join forces.

This is the problem at the core of "mechanism design" grounded in "rational self-interest." If you try to create a system where people do the right thing because they're selfish assholes, you normalize being a selfish asshole. Eventually, the selfish assholes form a cozy little League of Selfish Assholes and turn on the rest of us.

Appeals to morality don't work on unethical people, but appeals to immorality crowds out ethics. Take the ancient split between "free software" (software that is designed to maximize the freedom of the people who use it) and "open source software" (identical to free software, but promoted as a better way to make robust code through transparency and peer review).

Over the years, open source – an appeal to your own selfish need for better code – triumphed over free software, and its appeal to the ethics of a world of "software freedom." But it turns out that while the difference between "open" and "free" was once mere semantics, it's fully possible to decouple the two. Today, we have lots of "open source": you can see the code that Google, Microsoft, Apple and Facebook uses, and even contribute your labor to it for free. But you can't actually decide how the software you write works, because it all takes a loop through Google, Microsoft, Apple or Facebook's servers, and only those trillion-dollar tech monopolists have the software freedom to determine how those servers work:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/04/which-side-are-you-on/#tivoization-and-beyond

That's ruling class solidarity. The Big Tech firms have hidden a myriad of sins beneath their bafflegab and balance-sheets. These (as yet) undiscovered scams constitute a "bezzle," which JK Galbraith defined as "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it."

The purpose of Hunterbrook is to discover and destroy bezzles, hastening the moment of realization that the wealth we all feel in a world of seemingly orderly technology is really an illusion. Hunterbrook certainly has its pick of bezzles to choose from, because we are living in a Golden Age of the Bezzle.

Which is why I titled my new novel The Bezzle. It's a tale of high-tech finance scams, starring my two-fisted forensic accountant Marty Hench, and in this volume, Hench is called upon to unwind a predatory prison-tech scam that victimizes the most vulnerable people in America – our army of prisoners – and their families:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

The scheme I fictionalize in The Bezzle is very real. Prison-tech monopolists like Securus and Viapath bribe prison officials to abolish calls, in-person visits, mail and parcels, then they supply prisoners with "free" tablets where they pay hugely inflated rates to receive mail, speak to their families, and access ebooks, distance education and other electronic media:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

But a group of activists have cornered these high-tech predators, run them to ground and driven them to the brink of extinction, and they've done it using "the master's tools" – with appeals to regulators and the finance sector itself.

Writing for The Appeal, Dana Floberg and Morgan Duckett describe the campaign they waged with Worth Rises to bankrupt the prison-tech sector:

https://theappeal.org/securus-bankruptcy-prison-telecom-industry/

Here's the headline figure: Securus is $1.8 billion in debt, and it has eight months to find a financier or it will go bust. What's more, all the creditors it might reasonably approach have rejected its overtures, and its bonds have been downrated to junk status. It's a dead duck.

Even better is how this happened. Securus's debt problems started with its acquisition, a leveraged buyout by Platinum Equity, who borrowed heavily against the firm and then looted it with bogus "management fees" that meant that the debt continued to grow, despite Securus's $700m in annual revenue from America's prisoners. Platinum was just the last in a long line of PE companies that loaded up Securus with debt and merged it with its competitors, who were also mortgaged to make profits for other private equity funds.

For years, Securus and Platinum were able to service their debt and roll it over when it came due. But after Worth Rises got NYC to pass a law making jail calls free, creditors started to back away from Securus. It's one thing for Securus to charge $18 for a local call from a prison when it's splitting the money with the city jail system. But when that $18 needs to be paid by the city, they're going to demand much lower prices. To make things worse for Securus, prison reformers got similar laws passed in San Francisco and in Connecticut.

Securus tried to outrun its problems by gobbling up one of its major rivals, Icsolutions, but Worth Rises and its coalition convinced regulators at the FCC to block the merger. Securus abandoned the deal:

https://worthrises.org/blogpost/securusmerger

Then, Worth Rises targeted Platinum Equity, going after the pension funds and other investors whose capital Platinum used to keep Securus going. The massive negative press campaign led to eight-figure disinvestments:

https://www.latimes.com/business/story/2019-09-05/la-fi-tom-gores-securus-prison-phone-mass-incarceration

Now, Securus's debt became "distressed," trading at $0.47 on the dollar. A brief, covid-fueled reprieve gave Securus a temporary lifeline, as prisoners' families were barred from in-person visits and had to pay Securus's rates to talk to their incarcerated loved ones. But after lockdown, Securus's troubles picked up right where they left off.

They targeted Platinum's founder, Tom Gores, who papered over his bloody fortune by styling himself as a philanthropist and sports-team owner. After a campaign by Worth Rises and Color of Change, Gores was kicked off the Los Angeles County Museum of Art board. When Gores tried to flip Securus to a SPAC – the same scam Trump pulled with Truth Social – the negative publicity about Securus's unsound morals and financials killed the deal:

https://twitter.com/WorthRises/status/1578034977828384769

Meanwhile, more states and cities are making prisoners' communications free, further worsening Securus's finances:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Congress passed the Martha Wright-Reed Just and Reasonable Communications Act, giving the FCC the power to regulate the price of federal prisoners' communications. Securus's debt prices tumbled further:

https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/117/s1541

Securus's debts were coming due: it owes $1.3b in 2024, and hundreds of millions more in 2025. Platinum has promised a $400m cash infusion, but that didn't sway S&P Global, a bond-rating agency that re-rated Securus's bonds as "CCC" (compare with "AAA"). Moody's concurred. Now, Securus is stuck selling junk-bonds:

https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/117/s1541

The company's creditors have given Securus an eight-month runway to find a new lender before they force it into bankruptcy. The company's debt is trading at $0.08 on the dollar.

Securus's major competitor is Viapath (prison tech is a duopoly). Viapath is also debt-burdened and desperate, thanks to a parallel campaign by Worth Rises, and has tried all of Securus's tricks, and failed:

https://pestakeholder.org/news/american-securities-fails-to-sell-prison-telecom-company-viapath/

Viapath's debts are due next year, and if Securus tanks, no one in their right mind will give Viapath a dime. They're the walking dead.

Worth Rise's brilliant guerrilla warfare against prison-tech and its private equity backers are a master class in using the master's tools to dismantle the master's house. The finance sector isn't a friend of justice or working people, but sometimes it can be used tactically against financialization itself. To paraphrase MLK, "finance can't make a corporation love you, but it can stop a corporation from destroying you."

Yes, the ruling class finds solidarity at the most unexpected moments, and yes, it's easy for appeals to greed to institutionalize greediness. But whether it's funding unbezzling journalism through short selling, or freeing prisons by brandishing their cooked balance-sheets in the faces of bond-rating agencies, there's a lot of good we can do on the way to dismantling the system.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/08/money-talks/#bullshit-walks

Image: KMJ (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Boerse_01_KMJ.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[mong---mong]

Reactions SKZ Family

When your Pregnant for the first time

I went and closed voting early, since it was obvious who was going to win

Anyway, the length of these stories are not biased, just different require more details!!

-x-x-x-x-x-

Chan: (241 Words)

You knew for about a week before you told Chan, 

and it wasn’t like you were trying to keep it a secret, but he was always coming home late, at the studio.

The pregnancy had been planned, a while ago, but the results had been negative, so Chan wasn’t expecting much out of this one either, and just tried not to think about it too much.

“Where are you going?” You ask one night as Chan was sliding on his shoes. “Oh I just need to go down to the studio to get some things done..” he said. “Well when will you be back?” Hoping it was only an hour or so.

“Ehh, I’m not sure, don’t feel like you have to wait for me..” When Chan was vague like that, you knew it meant he wasn’t going to be home, until the early hours. So you stood, up and grabbed his jacket taking it off. 

“It’s Friday night, and I need to talk to you..” You said planning to be straight forward with this. “Is it important, I just-..” Chan started to ask, but instead of giving him a look to prove your point you said. “It’s your call whether our children our important or not”

Chan stared at you for a good few seconds, before blinking and saying “Oh my gosh..we are, you are pregnant?” You nod, and Chan gives you soft hug, and kisses you.

“Thank you…”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Minho: (461)

Minho runs a small business with his parents, but they make very good money, that they are almost considered and company and will be moving into a bigger building in the next few weeks.

With that Minho has been really busy, and you’ve also been his plus one to all these events. At one of these events Minho and his dad were butting heads as usual, while Minho’s mom had found her way to the alcohol table.

This is how the nights normally go, you opinion is constantly asked for, and you always having to chose between you in-law and husband. But this was anything from a normal night.

Everything started off normal, when one of the investors came over to you, he was the owner of a modeling company. “Are you the famous Mrs. Lee?” He asked.

You nod, as the man offers his hand for a dance, this was normal for strangers to ballroom danced, and you didn’t mind nor did Minho.

Normally these strangers were nicer about the way they were dancing, but he was just odd, swiftly swaying, and grabbing you hip making you a bit uncomfortable. “Your as beautiful as they say..” the man says.

Not knowing how to respond, you just thank him. After a while, you stop dancing, feeling sick, and dizzy, you stumble to the bathroom, you weren’t sure if that man had done anything to you.

 You sat there for a while, the place had some pregnancy tests, and you weren’t thinking straight from the one glass of light champagne you had.

Jokingly you took, since the test was going to expire. To your shock it came out positive, you tried a newer one and then a 3rd one. All positive.

Now you were just freaking out, you had a glass of champagne earlier that night. You got up instantly washing up and ran out of there, you approached Minho who was still butting head with his father.

You grab his arm and say “Minho, we need to leave” you say panicked not wanting to say to much in front of his parents. “What sweetheart I’m in the middle of something.”

Minho you said again, it was the tears in your eyes, that made him snap out of his trance, and take you to the car. “Where do you need to go?” He asked as he was getting in the drivers seat.

“Hospital”

After getting checked out the doctors confirmed everything was healthy and that you just couldn’t drink anymore. You went out in the waiting room, to see a tired Minho,

“Are you okay?” He asked standing. Grabbing his hands you put them in your stomach. “We are perfectly fine.”

Minho had the biggest smile on his face all the way home.

-x-x-x-x-x--

Changbin: (271)

Changbin and you had been looking into starting a family since marriage, but being mature adults you decided you were going to wait until later in your marriage, so you had time and money.

It was only the second year of you marriage, and you and Changbin were sitting in the bathroom waiting for the pregnancy test to get your results in. The silence had been deadly, not even a fly had buzzed.

You had been getting sick lately, and you also missed your period. Changbin and yours relationship had barely any secrets, and that’s how you kept it. As Changbin was sitting on the edge of the bathtub he says, “Please understand dear, I don’t mind if your pregnant, I really don’t, so please don’t think that I don’t want this, because I do..”

Changbin’s words were comforting “Thank you Bunny..” you say. 5 minutes had taken what felt like 5 years, when finally the timer beeped. You and Changbin make eye contact. “I want you to check it..” you say looking at Changbin with a slight smile.

After checking a million times if you were sure, Changbin removed the test from the cup. You close yours eyes not being able to look at his reaction. You feel one arm hug around you waist. “Open your eyes..” he says calmingly. 

You open your eyes, to see the pregnancy test saying “Pregnant” you let out a sound of relief and disbelief. “We are..going to be parents” You say, tears building in your eyes as you hug Changbin.

He kisses the side of your head and says “We sure are Mama…”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hyunjin: (308)

“I told you he wasn’t the right man for you” Your dad says. “Appa! We’re not divorcing, we just need time to figure it out!” You say back.

“And don’t say that Yu-Kai! You love Hyunjin as if he was your own son!” Your mom says, and she holds your hand. “Are you going to even tell us what you two fought about?” She asks again.

You and Hyunjin had fought about your future, and Hyunjin told you he wanted kids just not yet. It was a stupid argument, and you would’ve have figured it out yourselves if you didn’t find you were pregnant.

You were scared of what Hyunjin would say about you, how he would react.  You just sigh not wanting to explain to your mom.

“It was silly stuff, I’m just afraid to return to him..because I’m pregnant..” You confess. Both your parents eyes widen, “Honey you have to go back..” you father says.

“I know but..” you say before your mom cuts you off “No, Y/N you can’t do this alone, and Hyunjin needs to know! We’ll take you home now!”

Just as your parents were about to get up, the door bell rang, your answered the door, and there stood Hyunjin. He instantly hugs you, not to tightly. “I’m sorry..I shouldn’t have said what I did..” he says.

You look at him with tears in your eyes “I assume you saw the test..” Hyunjin nods. “If I had known I wouldn’t have said, even though I shouldn’t have said at all, because I didn’t mean it at all!”

Your dramatic Hyunjin was back in your arms, and how bad you missed, you just kissed him. He kissed you back. 

Breaking the kiss he says “Are we going to be parents?”

You just nod as the two of you kiss again.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jisung: (460)

It was Jisung who told you were pregnant, but it was in a dream he told you, it had felt so weird. You wake up at 8AM, and you face your husband, who’s snoring with his puffed cheeks.

Remembering the dream, you feel dazed, and when you stand up you wobble a bit. After you get changed, Jisung will be shifting in his bed. He sat up and noticed you weren’t sitting next to him.

“Baby?” He says, looking around and he made eye contact with you. “Why are you up so early on a Friday?” He whines, making grabby arms for you to come back to bed. “I have to go to work, Ji-young had to cancel her shift, she has an ultrasound..”

Jisung pouts a little “I should just get you pregnant so you can stay home all day” you blush a little “Stupid squirrel, I own the cafe, anyway, see you later you pabo” you say kissing his lips.

You went through the day like normal, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. You tie your hair back as you help customers come. 

A wealthy customer came in, he smelled like leather, and cologne, the smells were really getting to you. You had to excuse yourself to go throw up in the bathroom.

On your drive home, you stop by the pharmacy to pick up some nausea medication. All that was left was maternal nausea relief. You sigh, and start to leave, when you pass the pregnancy test. ‘It’s just a coincidence’ you told yourself. 

You almost were out the door, when you looked at the hospital sign that was across the street. “Are you pregnant?” It asked. You were over the signs the world was giving, and you turned right around, and bought three pregnancy tests.

You get home, and see Jisung laying on the couch asleep. You go to the bathroom and set up the pregnancy tests, all you did was have to wait 10 minutes.

You go to the kitchen, to see that Jisung left you his fortune cookie from lunch, you smiled, and you opened it. “A new life will be here for you to take of”

Your eyes widened, as Jisung came behind you. “Hi cutie!” He says, nuzzling into your neck. You just turn around “I think I am pregnant!” You say, sounding distressed.

Jisung’s eyes widen, “That was random, have you taken a test?” You nod “There are three in the bathroom right now..”

As you wait you explain all the signs you got today,and Jisung listens, then the alarm goes off. The two of you went to the bathroom.

After seeing all three tests positive, Jisung’s chuckles, holding you. “Well now you have to stay home with me!”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Felix: (331)

Felix had been preparing his dance class for their first on stage performance, in Paris France, and he has been there for about a week, and was performing tomorrow and coming back the next night. You had been anxious, because while he was gone you found out you were pregnant.

You and Felix wanted to experience every step together so when you found out by yourself, you felt so guilty, you feel even worse because you have yet to even tell him.

This wasn’t something you texted him though, so you had to wait till he came home.

You kept stressing about Felix’s safety, worried he wouldn’t make it back, and that you would have to raise your children on your own.

You were known to over think, and Felix was your sanity, but he wasn’t here, so you had to keep yourself preoccupied with tasks.

When the door opened the night of Felix’s return, you were so grateful for his return. You rush to the the door, and give your husband a hug. 

“Hi sunflower!” Felix chuckled, clearly happy to be back with you. “Hi sunshine!” You say in return. You tried to sound normal, but this is Felix we are talking about of course he noticed.

“What is wrong, you seem off-?” He asked, you just look at him, unsure on how to tell me. “I made a mistake..” is all you say.

“That’s okay, we are all human, they happen!” Felix says smiling, you sigh, “No Felix, I feel bad about it..”

“Well let’s talk about it, and I can hopefully make you feel better!” Felix says, comforting. “I took a pregnancy test without you, I wasn’t thinking and-!” You say panicking, Felix puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Sunflower it’s okay..all that matters is the result..” Felix says, his eyes overflowing with curiosity. “Positive..” you say.

Felix smiles and says “I will be with you for the rest of the steps, I promise..” 

-x-x-x-x-x-

Seungmin: (428)

Bomi is your dog that you got with Seungmin when you were dating. She is a retired medical dog. While you and Seungmin were ready for kids, you just couldn’t seem to get pregnant.

You always get upset when you have every negative test. This time when you took the test, Seungmin was away at the store, you were hoping to surprise him.

Instead you just cried in the bathroom, Bomi had found you, and knew that her Mama was hurting, so she came over and laid on your lap. Only a few minutes later, Bomi was sniffing your stomach.

You giggled a little and said “I’m sorry Bomi, Mama can’t give you a little sibling..” Bomi just whined sitting up, and did a little paw motion. 

That’s when it clicked in your head, Bomi was sensing something, you were terrified, because you knew Bomi mainly sensed cancer.

You grabbed your purse, and looked at Bomi, “Watch the house okay?” You walked out and drove yourself to the ER. After they ran a few tests and stuff, as you were waiting in the room, you saw that Seungmin was almost home.

“Mrs.Kim?” The nurse says, you look up, and she hands you a folder. “Congratulations..” is all she says as she walks away. You were a bit confused. 

As you open the you open the folder you gasped in shock, tears filling your eyes. It was sonogram, of a little baby, at the top it said “Kim Y/N, 8 weeks”. You were shocked. 

You had been taking pregnancy tests for so long, all of them being negative, your dog was able to tell you were pregnant.

You drive home, and you see Seungmin’s car, as you enter the house, Bomi rushes in between your legs her tail wagging. Seungmin looks up, “I thought you might’ve gone a walk to the park, I’m shock you didn’t take Bomi.”

Seungmin grabs your waist, “I saw the test in the bathroom, maybe it was wrong, have you try taking another?” Seungmin asks. You chuckled a little, “I actually went to the ER, Bomi was doing her little trick that she used as a medical dog”

Seungmin went pale, clearly thinking the same thing you had thought. “Is it cancer?” He asked, you shake your head and handed the folder.

Seungmin opened it and his eyes sparkled. “Bomi knew before you?” He asked and he nodded. Seungmin petted the dog “Bomi you smart girl!” He says happy.

As he goes to your level, he kisses you, “8 weeks pregnant..wow..”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jeongin: (401)

Jeongin had gotten home late from work, so when you woke up at 4AM, you tried you best not to wake him up, but you fell to the ground, about to throw up, you would rather him hold your hair, then clean up the floor.

“Jeongin-!” You gagged, but luckily he was a light sleeper, so he was by your side quickly, you just pointed at the toilet, and he got you there and held your hair, just in time for you to throw up.

He stayed by you whispering comforting words. “It’s okay” “It will be over soon”, and after 5 minutes of not getting sick, you turn and sit against the sink. “I’m sorry I know your probably tired..” You say guilt fills your heart. 

Jeongin picks up your hand and kisses it. “Your my wifey, I said in sickness and in health for a reason..” Jeongin says acting cute, which cheers you up, “But do you think that you might be pregnant, I mean..we got drunk a few weeks ago..”

You remember the moment and nod a little. “Maybe..if I am, how does that effect us?” You asked, Jeongin stands up and grabs a pregnancy test. “We become parents, like we’ve wanted too, we weren’t trying to get pregnant right now, but if it’s going to happen, it might as well happen now”

You take the test, 2 just to be sure, and you two sit on the bathroom floor talking. “Yoon is going  to tease me about this forever..” Jeongin says. “He just jealous of his older brother” you said nudging his side. 

Jeongin lays his head on your shoulder, the alarm goes off, and Jeongin groans. You start to get up, but Jeongin beats you to it. You join him, still dizzy, you pull out the first test, and it shows the a positive result. Your eyes widen and the two of you look at each other. 

When you pulled out the second one, you closed your eyes, it seems Jeongin had to because he said “What does it say?” “I don’t know I closed my eyes?!” You say back.

You both open yours eyes looking at the the test. Positive, Jeongin let out a squeal that made you jump. Jeongin picked you up and spun you around in you bathroom, and the he kissed you.

“I’m sorry, I- I just, I am really excited to be a dad!” He said with the brightest smile on his face.

-x-x-x-x-x-

New poll will be out soon, make sure to vote~!

Have a wonderful day~!

[sreegs]

gonna start this post upfront by saying tumblr's fuckin up bad with moderation right now, regarding the wave of trans people being targeted. but i'm not here to discuss that issue, i'm going to talk about the nature of large and small social spaces on the internet

as this post rightly points out, examining our existing social network structure reveals the crux of the problem: we are tenants on someone else's service. extrapolating from that, we're the source of revenue for someone's business. under that model, there is no incentive whatsoever for a social network to apply a "fair" or "just" moderation scheme. their goal is to maximize the number of people using the service and minimize blowback from advertisers regarding "what goes on" on the site

there will not be an alternative social network that gets this right at scale, unless it meets the following criteria:

1. Has ample moderators to thoughtfully deal with user moderation cases

2. Has terms of service that you agree with

3. Has a moderation team that understands how to apply moderation according to the terms of service, and amends it when necessary

4. Does not rely on external income source to pay for the site

Number 1: An ideal social network is one that has numerous, well-treated moderators who are adept at resolving conflict. Under capitalism, this is a non-starter, as moderation is seen as a money sink that just needs to be barely enough to make the site usable.

Number 2: An ideal social network has terms of service you agree with. Unfortunately there's no set of rules everyone will find fair. While this is not a problem for the people who want to use the site, it will inevitably create an outgroup who are pushed away from the site. The obvious bad actors (nazis, terfs, etc) are pretty straightforward, but there are groups that do things you might find "unpleasant" even if you support their right to do it. Inevitably this turns into lines drawn in the sand about how visible should that content be.

Number 3: An ideal social network has moderators who have internalized the terms of service and consistently make decisions based on the TOS. If a situation comes up where there's no clear ruling in the TOS, but users need a moderation decision regarding it, the moderation team must choose how to act and then, potentially, amend the TOS if the case warrants it. Humans, though, are not robots, and no, AI is not the solution here jesus christ. There will always be variance in moderation decisions. And when it comes to amending the TOS, who's the decision maker? The sites' owners? The moderation team? Users as a whole?

Number 4: An ideal social network does not rely on an external income source to pay for the site. The site pays for itself, and its income flow covers the costs necessary with reserves for unexpected situations. Again, under capitalism this is a no-go, because a corporate social network's only goal is to maximize money. Infinite growth, not stasis. A private social network paid by members requires enough paying members to be sustainable, and costs will generally go up over time, not down. A social network that has some lump sum of cash just generating wealth is also unreliable because, first you need a large lump sum to begin with, and that mechanism is tied to the whims of the investment market. And, again, costs of the site will go up, not down.

As you've read through these you're probably reaching the conclusion: making a large-scale social network that is fair and sustainable is very, very difficult, if not impossible with our current culture and economic systems. There might be a scale where you can reach "almost fair" and "barely sustainable", but then you have to cap its growth.

So the "town square" social network is rife with problems and we need to abandon it's model as the ideal network. Should we go small instead? We have a model already for that with message boards and forums. Though they weren't without their problems, they didn't have the scale that exacerbated those problems to crisis levels. Most of the time.

If you're thinking maybe you need a small network like this, free from a corporate owner (like Discord), the tools are out there for you to accomplish it. However, before you try, keep the above points in mind. Even if you're not out to create a large-scale social network, an open network will run away from you. And all of those points above are guidelines for a good online community.

You and your network of 50 friends and friends of friends might all get along together, but every single person you add increases the risk of creating moderation problems. People also change, or simply have episodes of irrational behavior. You need a dedicated team of moderators who are acting coherently for and agreeably to the community.

And you absolutely must keep this in mind: inevitably, as you add more people, someone will do vile shit. CSAM and violence type shit. You have to be prepared to encounter it. You have to have a plan to see and handle that, and the moderators who are part of your moderation team must be prepared to see and handle it too.

There's been a steady trickle of new alternative social networks (or social media networks) popping up, but you cannot expect those to be perfect havens. Tumblr was once the haven for weirdos on the internet. Now it's hostile to its core members. This is not trying to rationalize staying here because "hey, it could be worse". This is just trying to warn you to temper your expectations, especially because new networks that suddenly get a huge influx of new members hit a critical point where many falter, change, or fail.

Examine who's running those networks closely. Think critically about what they're touting as the benefits of those networks. And if you decide to join them, do not, under any case, expect those new homes to be permanent.

[saintmurd0ck]

cherry red

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: you and frank break into a vintage car dealership to scope something out for agent madani, and it turns out that you have a little time to spare before the drop happens

warnings: mentions of cocaine (no drug use), breaking and entering, the FBI lmao, shameless flirting, calling frank big boy, pain kink if you squint, (very little) spit because how else do you up frank's pleasure *gunshot*, unprotected p in v, creampie, goodbye i'm going to bed

a/n: for everyone who agrees that frank should be called 'big boy', this is for you!!! also this is my first full length frank fic lets fucking go

There’s not a sound but the rustle of your clothes as you case the dealership, Frank following closely behind you. He looks over his shoulders—a cautionary measure, despite the fact that the owners are on the other side of the world—before thumbing at the light switch on the wall.

Fluorescent lights flicker on in stages, a steady, low hum of electricity filling the space. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the brightness.

Frank looses a bated breath. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” you affirm, casting your gaze across the almost-cavernous, windowless room. Rows and rows of vintage cars stare back, their timeless, luxurious finishes glinting in the white light.

“That’s gotta be worth more than…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.

“Twenty-two million dollars. This room alone,” Frank finishes.

You swear, stepping forwards to skim your fingers along a chromed side mirror, then bending down to check your reflection. “So what are we looking for again?”

Frank sets his duffel bag down onto the reception desk, careful not to disturb the fanned business cards adorning the surface. “Guns, coke, contraband,” he lists. “Whatever we can find.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Frank asks, bewildered. His attention snaps to you.

“Is there a car in particular we’re looking for?”

“Honestly sweetheart, I dunno. If we gotta sweep every single one, that’s what we gotta do.”

You push up off your knees, weaving in and out of the cars. “Before the auction, yeah?”

“S’right,” he grunts, pulling out a silver crowbar. “Smart girl.”

Ignoring the heat now searing your face, you focus on trying to name the cars, although you really only recognise a few of them.

Your eyes warily glaze over a black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, its headlights polished to perfection. Next to it there are a number of vintage Ferraris, one Aston Martin, and a newer model Rolls Royce in the corner.

But one car in particular snags your eye, knocking the breath from you.

Frank whistles. “She’s pretty.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare, slightly offended he’d say that about the car and not you.

He’s not wrong, though.

It’s an old Mercedes. A 1961 Roadster, you think, marvelling at the almost pearlescent ivory paint restoration, the perfectly polished hubcaps, and the smooth leather interior of the deepest cherry red. You’re transfixed as you hear the engine in your mind, the revving beneath your feet, feeling the phantom breeze ruffling your hair as you speed down the highway with no destination in mind.

“You know what I think?” Frank says, clearing his throat, but you’re caught in your fever dream, music blaring from a shut-off radio that’s only active in your head. “I think…” he trails off, voice dropping to a bare whisper.

You whirl around as a loud clang drags you back to the present, one of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz hubcaps laying flat on the ground.

“What the hell, Frank?” you glower, eyes widening.

He responds with a grunt as he moves to the driver’s side, leaning his bodyweight into the crowbar as the next hubcap pops off.

Your hands fly to your face as he continues to move around the car, vandalising it beyond—

Oh.

The corners of Frank’s mouth curl into a wry smirk. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

He motions for you to come over, using his crowbar to pry out several small, duct-tape-wrapped packages from inside the wheel. “Dumbest fuckin’ hiding place I’ve ever seen.”

He pats the passenger door. “Gotta give it to ‘em, though. Moving drugs through cars at an auction? It’s a Ponzi scheme, but a goddamn good one.”

“This what I think it is?” you ask, crouching down next to him, irresolutely turning one of the bricks over.

He nods, pulling a knife tucked into his boot before sticking it into one of the packages. He dips his hand into the opening, rubbing what looks to be a white powder in between his fingers.

“Time to call Madani,” he grits, placing the brick back on the ground. “Could you do that f’me, sweetheart?”

Biting your lip, you pull out your phone to dial Madani’s number, wincing as Frank digs out the rest of the cocaine from your beloved Roadster. In eager anticipation, she picks up after the first ring, and the drop is arranged for 2.30 AM.

That leaves you thirty minutes to spare.

“So, Frank,” you remark, tucking your phone back in your pocket, “do we need to check any of the other cars?”

He sets the crowbar on the ground, getting up to lean against the front passenger side door. “Nah,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest, “FBI’s problem now.”

The growing smile on your face turns suggestive. “Guess we have time to kill before they show up, hm?”

Frank cocks his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

You stride towards him, reaching out your hands to uncross his arms so they lay straight at his sides. Trailing the tip of your index finger up his chest, you circle the outline of his mouth. It catches on his bottom lip as you drag it back down, and he shudders at the lightness of your touch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” you grin.

He moves off the car, rolling his eyes as you saunter to the driver’s side, brows furrowing as you go to unlatch the door. The red leather is cool beneath you as you slide in, hands instinctively going to grip the wheel. Imagining the engine roaring to life, you press your foot down on the accelerator, as far as it’ll go.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” Frank chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe,” you muse, aware of the mischievous glint in your eyes. “If that’s something you want.”

“You haven’t had any of the white stuff, have ‘ya? ‘Cause you’re sure acting like it.”

“Dick,” you swear. “We’re surrounded by nice cars, Frank. How do you expect me to behave?” Taking your hands off the wheel, you twist in your seat to face him. “Surely they’d have the keys here somewhere, right?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d keep the keys to a four hundred thousand dollar car here.”

“Awww,” you pout, “but I wanna go for a ride.”

Frank’s ears perk up. “S’that so?”

You lean back against the seat, running your tongue over your lips. “In this car.”

“What, and you think I can help with that?”

You bat your eyes at him. “Don’t get too flattered, but I think you’re the only person in the world who can help with that right now.”

“Right now?” he shoots back. “Just right now, huh?”

“Shut up and get over here before I rescind my request, Castle.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that fast, because he climbs into the passenger side, scrambling to get you on his lap.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands finding your waist, guiding you back and forth over his hardening cock. His breath fans your neck as he nips at your pulse, spreading his legs apart on the seat.

You tip your chin downwards, your lips messily crashing into his, his mouth—his body—warm and supple against yours. He shifts his hips, slotting himself between your thighs and into the one place you need him most. At this rate, the friction of your clothing is almost too much to bear, but you’ve always been one to toe the line between pain and pleasure.

Especially when Frank’s involved.

Your body clenches as he palms your clit, groaning your name into your skin, etching kisses along the curve of your jaw. He skirts the hem of your top, slipping his tongue into your mouth before lifting it over your head, leaving it in a scandalous pile on the driver’s side.

“Naughty girl,” he laughs dryly, adding your bra to the pile along with his own shirt. “Tell me this isn’t what you thought of first when you saw the car.” He stiffens as you catch his bottom lip with your teeth.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying it,” you croon, the jovial note of your amusement diffusing itself into the vast space of the dealership. Your fingers roam along the plane of his stomach, feeling his abs contort underneath your touch. “Pretty boy.”

Resting his hands on either side of your spine, Frank swipes his thumbs over your nipples, intently staring as you throw your head back, rolling your hips into his. You squeeze your thighs into his sides as he seals his mouth over one of your breasts, flicking his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

“Bruise—“ he groans, his voice caught in a hoarse whisper. Oh, right, you remember, looking down at the purple splotch stretching across the ribs on his right side.

But you don’t let up, not when he’s driving you mad and touching you like this. You dig your knee into the bruise lightly, waiting for his body to seize, for his panting to echo before putting it back down on the seat.

“You’re a fuckin’— animal—“

Something compels you to do it again, but he slaps your leg away, retaliating by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out his name, the echo of it thundering in your ears.

“Dick,” you gasp, slamming your palms into his chest. You gripe at the fact that he loses himself in a quiet sort of laughter, and that he’s all chiseled muscle and not putty in your hands.

“You insulting me or s’that what you want?”

The mirthful gleam in his eyes flicker as he looks you up and down, waiting for your next move.

“Fine,” you say, a little too scornful considering the situation you’ve found yourself in, moving to undo his belt. Pausing once to take your own pants off, your fingers move deftly to unbutton his jeans before you tug them down and off his legs. Not taking your gaze off of him, you brace one hand on his shoulder while the other slowly creeps up his thigh.

Frank squirms beneath you, his lips pressing into a thin line as you cup his balls. Your breathing turns shallow as you wrap your hand around his shaft, running your thumb over the precum glistening on the head of his cock.

“Fuckin’— shit—,“ he hisses as you squeeze him. You hinge forward to nip his earlobe, to whisper filthy nothings in his ear, but he bucks his hips upwards, almost reflexively.

And that is something too good to pass up.

“Feel good, Frankie?” you ask, moving to stroke him up and down, ensuring your pace is just shy of what he likes on himself.

“Mm—“

“I think this’ll feel better,” you interject, pausing to spit on his cock.

Frank’s mouth parts in a wide groan at the added lubrication, and the way you’ve so brazenly spat on him, narrowly missing the priceless cherry red leather. Not that having sex in this car isn’t already brazen to begin with.

Clambering back onto his lap, you nudge his cock into your opening, coating him in the slick of your arousal. You press your face against his cheek as he pushes himself inside you, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of his thick head stretching you out. It burns, but it burns so fucking good.

He grits his teeth as he eases you down on him, guiding you inch-by-inch until you're so full you can barely breathe, your core tightening to the point where you wonder if he can feel pleasure at all.

He reminds you that yes, in fact he can, because he's cursing under his breath, gripping the dashboard so goddamn hard you think he might leave half-moon marks in the shape of his nails. He jerks his hips into yours, driving himself so deep you see stars for a second, whispering into the trance of your intimacy that you're his girl and that you feel so fuckin' tight he might burst at any given moment.

Now accommodated to his size, you fling your arms around his neck as you begin to move, resting your forehead against his. You roll your hips in languid, circular motions, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"God fucking damn, Frank," you whimper, switching to bounce on his lap, holding onto the top of the seat for extra support. He sends you into a catatonic state of delirium as his thick cock hits deeper in this position, and soon you're squeezing around him, crying his name and falling over the edge of satisfaction.

Frank buries his face in your tits as you collapse onto his chest, your body still moving to the rhythm pounding inside your head.

"Hey, hey sweetheart," he says gently, moving to caress your jaw. "You okay?"

You flash him a weak smile, holding out a thumbs-up. "Keep going, Frank. M'not done yet."

"You sure?"

Raising your hips only to slam them back down on his seems to give him the reassurance he's seeking. Thrill shoots up your spine as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

His tone is nothing short of wicked. "I do as I'm told, yeah?"

He drills himself into you, setting a ruthless pace, mouth roving over every accessible inch of bare skin. You thank every god you can think of for making this place soundproof, because the two of you would be so incredibly dead if anyone could hear the sounds coming from your mouth.

You fall apart on his cock more times than you can count, burying your face in his neck as Frank's thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, his strokes faltering with every passing second.

"M'gonna cum for you," he groans, throwing his head back against the seat and lurching his arm towards the top of the windscreen. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling every last drop inside you.

"Fuck," he whispers, his cock twitching as you finally muster the energy to get off of him. He looks down at himself, horrified, and you follow his eye line to the mess on the seat between his thighs.

You choke, caught between a laugh and a gasp, equally panicking at how you're going to clean it up and possibly more importantly, how Madani isn't going to figure out what you've just done.

"Guess we can call this hard evidence for the FBI?" you sputter, trying your best to swallow your growing smirk.

Frank's cheeks turn red as he blows out a breath. "S'alright. This belonged to an asshole and it was gonna be bought by an even bigger one." He shrugs. "If I can't put 'em down, this is the least they owe me."

"You know Frankie, sometimes your logic is flawed, but I think you're right on this one."

He goes to smack your ass, but as you pull your panties on, your phone lights up in the footwell of the car, its shrill ringtone deafening to your ears.

MADANI

You glance at Frank, a humorous expression dancing across your face. "Good timing, huh?"

"Ain't that right."

tags {x} for all my frank girlies!!! <3 (I'M SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I'M SO NOT OK RIGHT NOW)

@marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @reborn-rekall @castlesnchurches @chellestrash @darlingshane @chvoswxtch @stress--relief @pedrito-friskito

[spadesolace]

psychic lover

pairing: psychic barista!reader x record shop owner! yeji

synopsis: the owner of the local cafe, psychic coffee, is known for her great coffee brewing skills but also her ability to see the future. some are wholesome, others are traumatic, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't see her own future. that is until she meets the owner of the record shop right next to her cafe.

The smell of coffee beans, jazz music playing, and the soft chatter of people filled the small yet busy cafe. One of the baristas, also the owner of the cafe, has a reputation that people praise and are wary of, somehow deemed as a psychic with her capabilities to predict the future for each customer she serves. Each time a customer comes back, they either praise YN, or ask for advice whenever her predictions were right. People tried to make it a business, a separate charge for the readings and the coffee that she serves. Some regulars are living life peacefully because of her predictions, with new customers arriving everyday, each one curious about what the barista has to say.

“How do you predict it? Like do you see it or does it show in the coffee you’re brewing?” Yuna, one of the regulars, has always been intrigued by the barista’s psychic abilities. YN smiled at Yuna’s question upon serving her coffee.

She had predicted long ago that the girl would become a well-known model but also gave her warnings about the hate it comes with. Yuna didn’t believe it at first but a month after giving her best, she got her big break when a famous makeup line reached out to her management. Since then, Yuna had become a regular and YN’s close friend.

“I wish I could just do latte art with it but no. Somehow when someone tells me their name whether it's fake or real, I just get a vision of it.” Yuna wasn’t satisfied with the barista’s answer but it was better than nothing at all. Swirling the straw of her lemonade as YN wrote the vision for who knows when about the girl getting another big break, probably New York fashion week.

“What’s the most wholesome vision you’ve seen?” YN looked at Ryujin who was one of the very first customers of the cafe, a veterinarian right next to the cafe.

“It’s actually yours, Ryujin. Nothing could ever top that.” She remembers Ryujin’s future clearly and it was one of the most wholesome visions she’s seen. It was better than she expected.

The veterinarian would meet the love of her life, and the girl had the cutest eye smile, something that would make Ryujin fall easily. The story of how they met was as wholesome as how it's going, Lia (who YN found out her name when Ryujin visited the cafe after meeting the girl) at the vet, a simple checkup for her dog. It has been two years and the couple are going strong, YN has met Lia on occasion, and also saw a vision similar to Ryujin’s.

“Well, you did say that I’ll meet a girl who has the most beautiful eye smile. Even confirming with you if it was Lia.” YN could only smile at the pair, knowing that their future can have a few bumps here and there but the end would be worth it. Lowkey pointing at Ryujin’s finger as the prediction, she knew that already, the rings were in her office.

She wonders how Chaeryeong is doing, her best friend, she had it quite rough in the beginning, work not cutting out, or how her company mistreated her. There wasn’t much of an update regarding the idol. She wonders if the girl took her advice and left.

“Have you seen your future?” First time meeting YN, Lia had been skeptical but seeing that her vision was completely inline with Ryujin’s, she no longer doubted the psychic barista. YN could only shake her head, she wanted to know but even with multiple tries of saying her name and brewing her coffee, even looking in the mirror as she does it, nothing. It was the curse that came with the blessing.

“I’ve seen like a few moments of where I was in their future but not like significantly.” The trio nodded, neither was satisfied but that was YN, she wouldn’t speak much on the matter, only focusing on the present. As infuriating as it is, she did want to see her future, the fear of uncertainty such as what would happen to her cafe, her life in general, was using her psychic abilities as a bonus for the cafe worth it?

Her thoughts were interrupted upon hearing the bell, indicating a customer had arrived, or maybe someone left. Looking at the girl who was making her way to the counter, she has never seen someone so ethereal in her life. The way she carries herself, wearing jean shorts, a white fitted tank top, and an oversized flannel… so simple yet how does she make it so elegant. Her eyes, it's like she got hit by cupid's arrow with how piercing her gaze is, just looking at the menu and she’s this smitten already. The trio watched the barista lose her cool, it was the first time to happen, what happened to the composed barista?

“Hi… ready to order?” The girl nodded, her shy smile, small yet cute. YN wonders what she sees in her future, who’s that lucky person that will have her heart.

“An iced americano and a chocolate croissant.” Even her order is simple yet elegant, YN was clearly losing it. Writing her order on the cup, now the moment of truth.

“Name?”

“Yeji.”

YN’s vision darkened for a bit, slowly clearing up. Looking around, she was in a record shop, she saw Yeji by the counter, head bopping to whatever song was playing. The iced americano on top of the counter half empty. YN walked a bit closer, seeing that there was a note, Yeji blushing upon inspecting the cup again.

Her vision darkened again, opening her eyes, this time she was standing inside a house. A set of equipment for coffee, a turntable in the living room, framed pictures by the hallways, two dogs… a picture of Yeji with Lia, Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and Yuna. Her friends and Yeji… no, it can’t be.

“Jagi! I’m home!” YN stopped in her spot, standing in front of her, a smile and looking directly at her. Somehow she was taller, a big bright smile plastered on her face.

“Past me, welcome to your future.” Running past her was Yeji hugging future YN tightly, after years of waiting. Finally, she saw her future and it was with the owner of the record shop from across the street. She looked around the place, future YN looking at her with curious eyes. The place was filled entirely with their interests, from music to coffee, and in a drawer hidden in the office was an engagement ring. YN looked back at her future self, nodding in confirmation that this was indeed her future, all she had to do was make the right moves.

YN opened her eyes again, the trio looking expectantly, hoping for something. All the barista could do was nod in confirmation as she wrote Yeji’s name on the clear plastic cup.

“Would you like me to write what I saw?”

“Oh… yeah.” YN wrote on the cup, the same note she saw in her vision.

Yeji, that’s a cute name. How about we go get dinner so I can tell you all about your psychic lover? xxxx-xxxx-xxx

Yeji had herself a psychic lover.

[roe-and-memory]

at some point, when he runs out of projects to work on and things to fix, lightning mcqueen takes on the brilliant idea of getting a late model car. what better is there to do in the middle of the week than get out racing — again.

he runs races in kingman at the local track, towing his car on a trailer behind his good ol’ 75’ chevy k10.

its familiar for him. he used to race these cars, he used to race against young drivers and old drivers alike — sometimes, he even got a chance to race against real cup drivers. those were the coolest days of his life at the time.

he recalls the victories and the championships he won in his years as a super late model racer, the only childhood pictures he has being the ones from when he was 15-17 that hang on the wall of macks truck with such intense pride. the idea brings him nostalgia, and the very real realization that he can afford to build a new one — his old one sitting comfortably in the rusteze racing museum — and, since hes done working on his truck, he has all the time in the off season to waste.

his first order of business is a chat with rusty and dusty to work out a sponsor deal.

rusty and dusty are excited at the idea, but being a primary sponsor IS expensive.. so, they tell him that they’d be willing to partner with tex to work out some sort of team and dual primary situation. they KNOW tex has always wanted to sponsor lightning, so why cant he do it now on his lower league car?

tex is delighted by this idea. he gives lightning funds to build the car, as well as works with rusteze to make a middle ground, hot paint scheme that’ll ignite the track and catch everyones eye.

once he has all the materials, his second order of business is putting everything together.

having been his own mechanic for quite a while before his radiator springs racing team came in, he knows the inside and outside of his car like the back of his hand. with minimal instructions, hes got the chassis and frame together in less than a week.

he never told doc about any of this — so imagine the mans surprise when he steps into his garage one morning, lightning is still asleep inside, and he finds the skeleton of a brand new racecar propped up on a bunch of cinder blocks.

he interrogates lightning, finally getting a confession of ‘oh, right…. uhhh wanna be my crew chief in a second series now?’, and he agrees. he helps lightning build the car too, happy father-son bonding time as they discuss what this kind of racing would look like as doc isnt too familiar. when theyre done, ramone paints her, and she’s ready to be entered in a race.

tex essentially covered the entire cost of the car itself, all lightning has to do is pay the small fee of entering it into the local track and everything is settled..

these races turn into a sort of therapy for him. he can race without all the big crowds, and he can have more personal connections with fans this way. it brings the track in kingman more publicity.

lightning is LOVED by the owners of the track. he decides it’d be in his best interest to do autograph signings and fan days there, bringing the track more publicity and more funding — cause all money from these events goes right to them.

aside from that, lightning also cant find it fair for him, a cup driver, to be racing against younger people and teams that arent as wealthy.. each win he gets there results in donation of the money.

sometimes he gives the money to second or third place finishers/their team, depending on who wants it. other times, he donates the winnings to the 50/50 raffle right before its called and he ups the pool — hell, sometimes he’ll just straight up donate the money to a local charity or school. on some random and perhaps slightly rare occasions he gives the money back to the track. its nothing against them, obviously, but he donates a ton already and he thinks other people should get chances — and they completely understand.

the only thing he would ever keep from these wins are his trophies, and even if he doesnt run ever race or he doesnt win every race, being able to get trophies reminiscent of those from his beginnings in the sport brings a smile to his face.

but… imagine one race he just gets Walled. it’s bad. his car is fucked and suddenly the world is spinning — as his car rolls down onto the apron of the track and the caution lights come on, he makes a poor attempt at crawling out of the car. its ends up with him half-sprawled across the pavement trying to remove his helmet and firesuit, racecars going by at a still high speed just meters away from his head.

it sucks, its stupid — the impact broke a bone in his knee and hip that he’d already experiences issues with from a past crash from a similar situation.. he doesnt wanna admit hes hurt, so, he avoids as much contact with medical services and doc, and just insists he’ll walk off the godawful limp hes fighting with — the one sending shudders and tremors through his whole body with each new step he takes — and he wants to fix his car.

this secrecy cant last long, obviously.. i cant imagine what a piston cup race would do to him that same weekend.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 9 Sneak Peek

As it turned out, you and Neuvillette didn’t go on your honeymoon tomorrow. Apparently, there was some sort of sudden judicial matter that desperately needed his attention. You lost count of how many times he apologized to you.

Which was just as well, since going on a trip—even if it was only for a day—on such short notice was absurd and unrealistic. Perhaps it was a testament to just how unsettled Neuvillette was by whatever he talked about with Furina that he suggested it in the first place.

Your initial excitement had cooled down slightly, replaced with calm rationality.

To be honest, you were unsure why he cared so much. From what you could garner (Neuvillette still refused to tell you exactly what his argument with Furina was about), it wasn’t as though she had explicitly ordered him to go on a honeymoon. Besides, having a honeymoon was a requirement for marriage. You knew plenty of couples back home who didn’t have one. Even your own parents simply went back to your father’s house and started living together after they got married.

You told Neuvillette about those things in an effort to take the pressure off him, but it backfired. He seemed even more determined to make this “honeymoon”-slash-“date” happen than before.

“But you looked so excited when I brought the subject up. You’ve rarely travelled before, have you?” he had said, and for some reason, you couldn’t argue.

It was times like these that made you wonder. From the time you got married—no, all the way back to when you first met—you had always assumed that he acted the way he did towards you out of a sense of gentlemanly conduct. It was something you admired. How many self-proclaimed gentlemen have you met until now? They should all model themselves after Neuvillette.

But it was all the things he did, like buying you the painting set even though you had never asked him for it or hanging up your painting in his office, that made you wonder something that was perhaps a little impertinent: was Neuvillette secretly very sentimental?

That makes sense, you thought, nodding to yourself as you inspected the sunflower plants. They had now reached the middle of your calf, and there were small, tender leaves growing from the stalks.

Neuvillette seemed like the type of person who enjoyed doting on something. No, you were sure he was. You had seen how he acted with the Melusines—he was like a proud father. But on the other hand, Melusines weren’t like pets you could take care of and leave at home. They were full-fledged citizens of Fontaine with their own lives.

But with humans, he was cordial but distant due to his strict personal morals. You sensed that, however, that it didn’t mean he actively disliked interacting with them. It didn’t help that his position and demeanor intimidated people and made them stay at a respectful distance. So, basically, it was a relationship where both parties mutually stayed away from each other, even though the desire was there to get closer.

“He should get a pet or something…” you muttered to yourself.

“Who should get a pet?” a voice asked from behind you. It was Neuvillette.

“I was just thinking that you should get a pet,” you stood up and turned around. “I think you would make a good pet owner.”

 Neuvillette raised an eyebrow. “What brought this on?”

“Oh, I was just thinking,” you said innocently. “Have you ever had a pet before? Or considered getting one?”

“No to both questions, I’m afraid,” Neuvillette said. “My job keeps me too busy to spend much time with them, and truthfully, I prefer observing animals in their natural habitats rather thuan transplanting them to an environment that might not suit them.”

“I see,” you nodded. It was just the answer you would expect from him. “But, I still think that you would be a great owner. You’re so caring and considerate, after all. I’m sure any pet of yours would be lucky to be yours.”

Neuvillette was silent for a moment, like he was thinking over your words. “Then, what would you suggest I should get as a pet, in the hypothetical scenario that I decide to get one?” he suddenly asked, turning to you.

You considered it for a moment. Your first thought was some kind of aquatic creature, like a fish, but you quickly eliminated that choice. Neuvillette wouldn’t like to have a pet that was trapped in confined spaces, and besides…you glanced at his hands, remembering all the times you saw him pat the Melusines’ heads. He would like something he could pet and cuddle. The mental image of Neuvillette cuddling with a fluffy creature made you smile. Yes, definitely something fluffy. A dog would be too high maintenance for him, perhaps a cat? Or a hamster, or a rabbit…

You told Neuvillette about your thoughts. “Think about how relaxing it would be to run your fingers through your cat’s soft fur after a long day at work,” you ended. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It does sound pleasant,” Neuvillette said as he gazed at the sunflower shoots, then looked at you for a few moments as though considering something. “But I think I’ve already experienced something similar to that.”

“What are you implying, hm?” you glared up at him. Lately, Neuvillette seemed to have taken a liking to teasing you. Normally, you didn’t really tolerate being poked fun at by people outside your immediate friends and family (although, come to think of it, Neuvillette was technically your family now), but from him, you didn’t mind all that much. Maybe it was the novelty of it.

“Nothing, Madame. Nothing at all.”

For a few minutes, you two were silent. But it was the warm kind of silence where the people involved simply indulged in each other’s presence.

“So…” you cleared your throat. “Has the date for our honeymoon been set yet? You can at least tell me that, and where we’re going, can’t you?”

You gave him a meaningful look. His argument with Furina had been on your mind for the past few days. Now that you knew that you were involved, you had to know what it was about. You initially bugged him about it, but eventually stopped when he kept repeating, “It is better for you not to know.”

Of course, you had no intention to drop it completely. You simply had to wait for the right moment to bring it up again.

From where you were standing, Neuvillette’s bangs hid his face, but you could have sworn that you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’ll tell you after dinner.”

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Okay do you agree with me that we were severely deprived of Ezor, Zethrid, Axca, and Veronica content? Because they would be the ultimate lesbian squad like

Do not even. Get. Me. Started.

Too late.

(warning: this is a loooooong post.)

My poor girls, they were so perfect! And don't forget Narti (blind lizard gal) because as much as I think Lotor's whole villain arc thingy was dumb, I will NEVER forgive him for killing her. Never ever ever.

I do refer to them as Lotor and the Lesbians in my head, so I think it's pretty clear what I think about them. (Small note: If they were a band that would be their name.)

And Veronica! She was so cool! You know she steals all the girls her brothers bring home. Like, 'Oh you met someone cool at work? I'm just gonna take her off your hands...' Let's be real, if Veronica was not a fictional character, she would be a notorious lady charmer.

And COME ON. Ezor and Zethrid were LITERALLY DATING. I will take NO ARGUEMENTS. Do we not remember that whole episode where Zethrid went berserk on the paladins cuz she thought Ezor was dead?? And how they looked lovingly into each other's eyes? They had an END SCENE together! Well, it wasn't about them, it was that thing about Keith taking over command of the blade but WHAT-EVER. They were 2 feet away from each other because they were inseparable and in. love.

look at them.

Wait I can do better:

I'm gonna scream.

And, yeah, they were technically canon but this doesn't count. If Shiro and the dude he married (..Curtis?) get a canon kiss then so do Ezor and Zethrid.

Before I start my little spiel and Veronica and Acxa, I'm just gonna leave a picture of Narti here for those of you who don't remember her.

She was the one without eyes who could see through the eyes of her cat (honestly so real in a fictional way, love that for her).

Ringing any bells? Yeah, I cried when she died. (I made a rhyme!)

NOW.

Veronica and Acxa. They would have been SO CUTE together. And even if they didn't get together, at the very least they should have been best friends. Like the kind of best friends where Acxa is adopted into the McClain family to the point at which she can always be found there just chilling in their house like she owns the place. The kind of best friends that finish each other's sentences and know EVERYTHING about each other. GUYS. This was the VISION.

And you know what? I gonna put a picture of them here in just a sec, but you ALL know what I'm talking about when I say that they had a klance-style bonding moment.

Do not even try to tell me that they did not have potential. They're making awkward love eyes at each other.

(Also, the limited fanart that exists of them is SO. CUTE.)

Honestly, if the show really wanted to show representation that bad, then why couldn't these ships be real? Adam is great and all that, but if we're going to introduce a queer relationship in the name of representation, then maybe don't kill him off for the sake of drama after only about 5 minutes total screentime.

In fact, Shiro's whole thing was messed up. Yes, I get that he's a queer icon, but why are these things being forced on him? Instead of putting him with another character that also only got 5 minutes of screentime, maybe his end scene could be something like, 'Shiro went and finally got the therapy he deserved' or 'Shiro and Keith spent quality time together now that they were no longer separated' or even, 'Shiro retired from military business and built a comfortable life for himself as a coffee shop owner.'

He. Does. Not. Need. No. Man.

Based on the fact that he still has that Garrison-issued arm, he is still in relations with them in some way. And maybe he quit and just got to keep the arm, but that needed to be specified. Are we forgetting his previous trauma? His periodic flashbacks? The fact that his body was taken over by alien life and used to INJURE HIS YOUNGER BROTHER? The very same brother that he was a role model to?

And maybe we could have kicked Lance's scene out and instead shown him with his family? That would have been a great place to insert Veronica and show them actually bonding like family. Did anyone else find it weird that we got basically no scenes of them interacting in space? With their personalities, they should have been gossiping and having spa days left and right, but there was nothing of the sort.

Wait, I'm sorry, I got off topic.

Where was I? Oh yeah.

The most talked about example of queerbaiting is always Klance because as main characters, they're in the spotlight, but these closeted lesbians do in fact exist.

Why did we get Allurance but not Ezor and Zethrid? They were SO CLEARLY compatible and they weren't toxic to each other like Allura and Lance. My main argument against that ship is because of Klance, it's because Allura had just lost someone important and rebounded to Lance, and Lance constantly tried to be the rock for her that she wasn't ready to lean on. He finally had what he wanted from day 1, and realized that if he really wanted it to continue, he would have to change in ways he wasn't ready for.

If that kind of relationship gets a kiss, then Ezor and Zethrid should get one too. They spent their whole time on the show supporting and relying on each other.

[colourstreakgryffin]

AH THIS HAS BEEN ITCHING MY BRAIN! TATTOO/PIERCER OBANAI?? (You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to :D)

Omfg! Yes! I’m soooo doing this! Now, god please save everybody who reads this. You all are gonna have to deal with my Obanai simp side! I’m gonna go wild! Ima pick just Tattoo Artist for my sanity

@local-obanai-simp! Love, this is for you and me!

Right off the bat. Tattoo artist Obanai is hot. Too hot to drop, he has tattoos all over his arms and chest, pierced ears with black jewellery and such a monochrome palette with his goth clothing style, that just highlight his yellow and turquoise mismatched eyes

He is very diligent with his work and he grabs you, holding whatever body part still if you keep shivering in pain too much. He doesn’t mean to be rough, he just gets annoyed fast with fidgety customers

Obanai does feel bad for the people who are just experiencing their first tattoo, that includes you. He was basically born with tattoos and even as a child, he was forced to have tattoos so they don’t hurt

He is so hot when he is working, his almost glowing eyes glare at the drawing he is starting to shape in full concentration and his rolled-up sleeve denim jacket showing off his forearm tattoos alongside a great amount of muscle

It’s hard to not look at him for real. You look more at Obanai, then you do complaining or whining over the pain as he is simply hypnotic!

Intense stabbing pain courses your bicep as you threw up your hand over your bust, just to clutch it. Your brain was screaming at you to push off the device causing you this level of pain but why would you do that when the man giving you the pain is so attractive

Conveniently, he is a friend of yours you met through your beloved cousin, Kanroji Mitsuri. Iguro Obanai, the owner and main employee of the infamous Serpentine Parlour. Mitsuri had spilled the beans about him a little while back and you were eager to meet him every day since

Mitsuri gave you his number after you basically bribed her for it, to taste out your curiosity over him, and got to chatting in no time. He was quite polite yet busy, he always apologised for answering late and explained himself. You never minded, a polite man like himself is all you could ever want

Almost like a un-recalled dream, tada. Now, you’re in his shop as his final customer for the day, getting stabbed repetitively by the tattoo gun-thingie with your eccentric eyes trained on him to distract yourself from the pain and oh lordy, did he distract you from the pain so well

He is beyond gorgeous as he focused on perfecting your tattoo of choice. Those heterochromatic eyes of yellow and turquoise glowed, his straight-edged raven black hair tied up in a tight ponytail, showing off the many black piercings he had, his denim jacket unbuttoned slightly at the chest to show the wiggly fancy writing of “Kaburamaru” running over his collarbone

Your cheeks blew up into ruby red at the attractive man before you, just switching between his face, open arms and the small peek of his built torso as he kept working. Yeah, his mouth was hidden by a clean, medicinal-like mask so you couldn’t see all of his face but you still found yourself worshipping his looks like he is some model

“I can tell that you’re looking at me” Obanai remarks gently and calmly as he usually is, reaching his spare hand up and pressing thumb on your chin and fingers on your cheek to crane your head up. The sharp pain disappeared as Obanai have seemed to pull the gun away

“Don’t toy with me, girl. Don’t you want a good tattoo~” Obanai remarked, his voice going from sleek and mature to sexy and demanding in a second. Sudden heat flooded you in response as his wondrous eyes basically ate up your reaction, cheeks burning bright and light stutters breaking through your lips

If only Mitsuri could see this side of her best friend! “I-I… y-yes! I do.. b-but i…” It was pretty obvious that he was smirking at you, with the way his pierced eyebrow rose as he rolled his eyes and let go of your chin, his hands were smaller than most men but still very strong, with a few veins underneath the black gloves. “Good~”

Obanai’s occupied hand still held the non-longer running tattoo gun that he brought it back to your bare bicep and flipped on the switch with his fingertip rather quick. Almost unbearable pain begun attacking your senses again when he pressed the needle into your skin and dragged down

You looked away in a instant, very embrassed at getting caught as you kept staring at the marble cupboards decorated by a white glass snake ornament. Obanai, from the left side of the long table that you laid down on, frowned at the lack of gaze. He was just trying to tease you, he didn’t want you to actually stop. Obanai brought back your attention by snapping his spare hand’s fingers in midair. Your head turned in conjunction, slightly jumping from how loud it was echoing through the quiet colourless room

“Did I say you are to stop looking at me?” Obanai barked slightly, eyes never leaving his work but you can he was talking to you as your cheeks somehow got darker, at his statement, then they already are. Your free hand trying desperately to cover your embarrassed and flustered self as Obanai carefully and quickly moved your arm to a specific spot, reaching over and grabbing your wrist, placing it over your stomach and locking fingers with his

“Kanroji told me you’re sensitive to pain. Hold my hand and squeeze it if it’s get too bad” You stuttered out once again, gazing down his features to try forget the pain and gently tapping your fingers against his knuckles repetitively as a attempt to calm yourself down. You’re a mix of confused, flattered and embarrassed all at once, is Obanai treating you this way because you’re his best friend’s cousin or is it because he genuinely wants to?

“W-what about your work? Can you do it with one hand” You stutter back, nervous that he may mess up and trying your best to prove to him that he doesn’t need to hold your hand through it. “I can tattoo with one hand. It’ll be fine” Obanai responds, taking a quick glance up at your face, his hidden lips formed a smile at your sparkling lovestruck eyes. You did like him more than he suspected

His eyes returned back to his work as he needed to finish it quickly. One, so you won’t be in pain anymore and two, so he can wrap up his and his employees’ shift quicker to focus on the more important thing trialing his mind. He could tell his employees were done for the day as most had begun gathering their things and simply waited on their boss to give the cue

He was eager to finish this to as he has a beautifully perfect concept floating around his head, it almost clouded the image of the tattoo you wanted as he could still sense your eyes scanning over him and his body. Perfect, he gets to do what he wants with you

A not so little “talk” in his office

[og2lit]

LA Task - S.C.

•What is your full name? Santana Isaiah Cross

• Where and when were you born? Chicago, Illinois. 4/10/02

• Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Skylar Cross; Gym owner and physical therapist. She's loving, nurturing, passionate, loves hard. A go getter and great business mindset. Financial advisor to her son to protect his assets before he turns pro. Makes 🔥 cakes from scratch.

Cairo Jennings; Recently retired pro sports athlete currently works as a reoccurring analyst with ESPN. Stoic, old school mentality, provider, gym rat. Stubborn and headstrong, manipulative, controlling.

• Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

Only child, that he knows

• Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

UCLA campus apartments, by himself. Open space, hypebeast, got some color, tv mounted, surround sound.

• What is your occupation?

Student full time, brand ambassador

• Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

6'2, semi muscular, brown skin, tattoos all over his torso and legs, african american, street casual, locs at his shoulder.

• To which social class do you belong?

Middle upper class for now

• Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

Nope

• Are you right- or left-handed?

Right

• What does your voice sound like?

Raspy, Midwest accent, husky

• What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

"Mane, Folk, Gang"

• What do you have in your pockets?

Tictac, phone, wallet

• Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

No

PART 2: GROWING UP

•How would you describe your childhood in general?

He had a solid childhood. With the child support hush money his mom received every month from her former lover it was enough to cover the mortgage so the rest of Skylar's money went to the small bills and splurging on her son.

• What is your earliest memory?

5 years old, running in the backyard with a little car. His father Cairo comes out to the backyard with Skylar and hands Santana a mini basketball before leaving. It was the only time he saw his father face to face.

• How much schooling have you had?

He's in college.

• Did you enjoy school?

Enjoys what it offers and how he can capitalize.

• Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

Copying his favorite players moves until he perfected it and created his own. Kobe Bryant and Jamal Crawford.

• While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

His mother, she taught him everything.

• While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

Had cousins that he got from his mother's friends and two blood cousins that he stays in contact with to this day. They used to get in trouble all the time running the streets.

• As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A firefighter

• As a child, what were your favorite activities?

Playing monster trucks and doctor

• As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

Lots of energy, couldn't stay still, OCD

• As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

Since he played ball in middle school he was known by a lot of people in the state area.

• When and with whom was your first kiss?

13, Courtney Wright in the closet.

• Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

No, 17 Tamia Blake

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

•What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

Overhearing a phone call of his parents fighting over him.

• Who has had the most influence on you?

His mother and Kobe Bryant

• What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Getting his first NIL deal before he graduated high school.

• What is your greatest regret?

Not retiring his mouth when he had the opportunity to do so.

• What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

Cheated on someone

• Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

No

• When was the time you were the most frightened?

Almost got his car stolen in Chicago when he turned 18

• What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

Getting my beans caught in my zipper at school

• If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

Cairo Jennings

• What is your best memory?

Back to back state championships in high school

• What is your worst memory?

Finding out his mother has breast cancer

[10-honglazia-24]

Just some fun procrastination until I finish “Thoughtless…” I call this one…

“Let’s Stay In Tonight”

TW; violence. assault. mentions of blood. nothing too graphic, just a hungry thug.

A/N: NOT Proofread but working on it.

“Stay in? Stay in where?” You quirked a brow, looking to your- Well you weren’t sure what to call him. He was a guy you’d known for few months and in those few months you had dated for only one of them.

Never would you have ever thought you’d end up dating a model. Especially Choi San.

“Stay in at my place.” He answers so casually and your mouth opens, yet without words.

Usually that meant one of every few things. That and well, you knew he was pretty rich…You’d feel out of place probably walking into some lavish geometric abode, compared to your modest studio apartment.

In that moment it had felt like time had gone by so fast. As if the both of you had been dating for longer than it was already. You’d only been on four dates with him and it wasn’t exactly off to a very romantic start…At least not in the beginning.

One month ago…

You had just begun your shift at a modest little cafe run by a single owner and where their were only two other workers, including yourself. It was a small business, but very popular. It got business very quickly so learning all the proper procedures and recipes was done from staying on your toes. But you had a knack for the barista life and loved your little job at the cafe. That was until…

“Hello! Welcome!”

You heard the bell above the door ring as it opened. Though you never looked up to see them as you were still wiping off the counter, getting ready to finish opening.

“I’m sorry, you came a bit early, so we’re still getting opened up so it might be a bit of a-“

You went to apologize as you heard the man approach the counter, but before you could finish, he speaks.

“Ah, it’s fine. I’ve got time. Especially if you’re the one I’m waiting for.”

You stop mid swipe of the towel across the counter- His words were smooth and you could hear the smile in them. You had to admit, they did make your cheeks a little warm but at the same time- It was too early in the morning for this.

“Sir-“ You finally look up to see the man and fuck- Why was he already annoying AND gorgeous?

“Hm?” He gives a totally intrigued look, obviously expecting something but in his defense you were staring…

“U-uhm…Just give me your order sir, and I’ll make sure you’re served first when everything is prepared.” You answered, in a somewhat forced cheery tone. Obviously annoyed.

He tilts his head a bit giving you a confused look for some reason. As if he expected you to say something else. You raise a brow at him. “Your order?”

He shakes his head and clears his throat. “Of course. Im going to try your macchiato. Hot, caramel please, add a extra shot.”

As the man spoke, digging about to take out his wallet, and eyeing the bakery selection, you did notice a few things. He was very well-kept. Dressed in all black, but you’re pretty sure in a brand that most people you knew couldn’t afford. His jawline was damn near perfect, he hair was coiffed and slicked without a single stray except the strands that were left to frame. You also noticed his wallet. Also very expensive.

To be honest, he seemed very out of place to you now to be in your little cafe, and it made you curious- But he had an ego you didn’t want to prod at. So you kept to your own thought’s until he added a strawberry scone to his to order, and passed you the money.

You thanked him, and finished wiping the counter, now turning around to see what else needed to be done- But instead you were met by two pairs of eyes, peeking over the little island in the cages kitchen. It was your other two co-workers, also your best friends, crouched down and being nosy.

“What the heck?” You stopped, giving them a look.

“Do you have any idea who that was!?” One of them whispers loudly.

“Do you!?” The other girl follows up.

“N…No? H- hey be careful!” Your friends had come from behind the island so quickly and rushed you, making you turn around to the man’s direction. He was now sitting at the furthest corner by the window, piddling around on his phone.

“That’s Choi San!” The girl whispered loudly.

“THE Choi San!” Your other friend followed up.

“Okay? The Choi San who?” You asked, intrigued since the name meant absolutely nothing to you.

Your friends gasped and you rolled your eyes. They were literally so dramatic.

“Don’t you read?! Watch television, look at magazines?!” On of the girls rambled.

“He’s a model! From that really big agency that just signed that soloist you like! And he’s about to be in a new drama.”

“His acting is soooo good!”

Meanwhile as your friends ranted on, you had to admit it made you even more curious. What was a guy like that doing in a little nook of a cafe like this?

“Okay, okay! Well we’ll talk about it after work, come on guys he actually has an order we need to get ready! Other customers will be here soon.” You turn around making your friends do the same, and shoving them along to their duties.

Meanwhile, what none of you had known, was that SAN’s phone wasn’t even on. And he was taking his fingers around on the dark screen, just entertaining himself with everything you and your friends were saying.

A week later…

Ever since then- Ever since, “the” Choi San had decided to visit that cafe, every single day. He would always come in at the buttcrack of opening, and right before closing. He hadn’t missed a single day or opportunity to get on your nerves. His empty little flirting that irritated you and nosy little questions. Though he did make you smile a time or two…Or three. Maybe four. You didn’t want to feed his ego. Guys like him weren’t really your type and you’re pretty sure he was just after one thing. But you had gotten used to the routine and he wasn’t a TOTAL jerk at least…You occasionally had to curse yourself for finding excuses for him because there was no way he could look that good, and NOT be the egotistic stereotype. Your friends constantly drooled over him and that’s the types they usually went for. So you couldn’t be wrong.

Later that evening though…

You and your friends were closing up. All that was left was some little cleaning and waste, so you let your friends leave early.

“I can’t believe he didn’t show…” One of your friends posted as she shuffled around the counter, hugging her bag, coat draped over her shoulder.

“Me either- He probably gave up and ran off thanks to that hard ass over there.” Your other friend added and you looked up to see both of them giving you an evil.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “If he’s gone because he didn’t get something he wanted like that-? That’s not a problem for me. Now go on, get home.”

Jokingly one of your friends gives you a nasty look up and a down while the other clicks her tongue.

“We worked closing today, it’s only 9! We’re going to the club. When your done meet us, huh?”

You stopped what you were doing, bringing a finger to your chin and giving a hum as you pretended to think. “Mmm, I don’t know…My friends were really upset with me-“

“Oh you whore, just come!” She stamped her and foot and you laughed. She knew very well you’d there.

You shooed them out and told them that your all meet up in about an hour to head out. Though a few minutes later, you heard the bells from the door chime.

“What did you forget?” You asked without turning around to see them as you were counting the bakery waste for the day.

“Ah- Nothing actually I was waiting.”

You hear a familiar voice and whip around to see none other than Choi San. This time dressed a little more casually. A simple blazer with some slacks, all black of course, Eleuthera a rather form fitting black shirt.

“Well hello- Your fan base just left really pissy you didn’t show up today.” You joked, and getting his little chuckle after that was kinda worth it.

“Mm- I’ll make it up to them later.” He shoves his hands in his pockets as he saunters up to the counter. “I actually was waiting to see you…Alone.” He admits, and you tilt your head to the side.

“Me? Alone?” You look around as if you’re going to find another person inside the cafe. “Me for what?”

“Well I-…I-“ He starts- Then begins to look a bit confused. Hands digging into his pockets and fricking himself at this point. “Shit- Hold on.”

You couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing, watching him run out of the store. Watching mister perfect finally having an everyday normal persons malfunction- Thiugh you weren’t sure his issue was, you went on o back counting waste until he returned.

You heard the bell.

“Well that was quick. What’d you go do?”

There was no answer.

“Well?” You turned around to face him, but only saw another man standing inside as well. He looked absolutely deshovled. Really rough, and he HONESLTY reeked of alcohol. “I’m sorry sir…but we’re uh, we’re closed…”

“Please ma’am I’m just hungry- I’ll take anything, just please before you out it in the trash?”

“Sir, I-“ You stop and sigh. You were usually told not to do things like this, but you could tell the man seemed like he really needed a meal. All you had were desserts but at least it was something. “I can bag you up a few things, just- Wait right there.” Yo turned back to the waste you were counting, picking what you had left that was still considerably fresh, so the man wouldn’t be given anything stale.

Of course, it was all in vain…

All of a sudden, a strong hand grips you by the hair, causing you to scream as he snatches you back. Your hands reach up to try and grab his.

“Stop it, let me go! Stop!”

The man had such a tight grip on your hair, you could feel his dirty fingernails digging into your scalp, and you screamed again. He was dragging you out to the floor where he threw you down onto a corner. You held your hand over the pain as you tried to scuffle back, and he grabs you by your leg, dragging you back towards him. You kicked and flailed and you could feel your blowsnlanding but this guy didn’t seem to car. The poor old man was suddenly some freak with a crazed look in his eyes and a sick smile on his face.

He simply licks the blood from his bottom lip and fights you down to the floor, trying to get on top of you. But he’s never get it. You may have been scared but you still screamed and fought and managed to keep him off of you long enough until…

Suddenly the man’s entire weight was gone, you quickly scuffling back into the corner to see San- Lifting the man up by the back of his clothes, and throwing him over the counter. As the man hit the floor, he quickly made an attempt to scurry up and make a run for the door.

“So you like to hurt women?! Look at her!” Just as the man had grabbed you by your hair, San had taken and handful of his and dragged him back to face in your direction. You weren’t sure what wa s happening now and you looked between San and the filthy man that had cursed him.

Without a word, he slams the man’s head down onto the counter. “Apologize. You should apologize after doing something wrong.”

It was literally only a few seconds after San spoke that he slams the man’s face into the counter again. “I said apologize!”

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man finally pleads and San looks to you.

“Are you hurting? Does it still hurt?” He asks you as you finally lift yourself up off the floor, wincing a bit as you touched the back of your head, bringing your fingers around to see blood on them.

That was an answer enough for San. He slams the man’s face against the counter once more, before father him up by his clothes again, and throwing him over one of the tables in the cafe. The man backing himself into the corner, much like you had done earlier trying to escape. You heard him pleading for whatever mercy he thought hed be shown, and was only met with a heel to his head, officially knocking him unconscious.

“Did you jsut kill him ?!”

“No? But I can?” He looks over his shoulder and says it to you as if it’s nothing. “Just call the police. We’ll wait for them to come get this guy.”

You gave San a look, watching th way he was watching the man on the ground. Did the guys deserve it? Yeah he sure as shit did. But yeah no way was murder an option. After you made the call and explained everything that happened, the police were on their way along with an ambulance. Taking your statement and arresting the man, while the treated your wound. Even San’s manager had rushed to the scene and wasn’t happy about his Anne being all over the news now with an incident like this, but he insisted that he was helping a ‘friend.’

A friend ?

Were you friends?

It felt odd to call him your friend but it also felt a bit odd to call him anything less than that…

“Well the medic said you shouldn’t drive home with that head injury. So I’ll take you home.” After everything was done and the scene was clear, San was offering you a ride home.

“Ah- I don’t need one I take the bus home it’s fine. But thank you-“

“Im driving. You home. Your hurt, and I jsut want to make sure you get home safe.”

You sighed, giving the man a defeated look. After all of that and well- Him most likely saving your life, you really couldn’t say no.

“Alright…Alright, fine where’s your car?”

“The blue one there.” He points to the only blue car on the block, and it was reflecting under the street lights in all its steely glory.

He walks you over to the car and you stop before you even approach it. It was a steel blue, Genesis G90.

“I-it’s…It’s so nice.” You gawk at the vehicle, slowly tipping around to the passenger side as he opened the door for you.

“I’m glad you like it. Because I hate it” He smiles as you climb in, giving him a dumbfounded look.

After he finally gets in, you look him as is if he’s lost his mind.

“How could you hate a car like this?! It’s so pretty! Oh, and it’s so comfortable!” You let yourself melt into the seat, resting your sore head back against the cushion. “I want to die right here. It’s perfect.”

The man couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. Of course he wasn’t going to say it then, but im he found it all too cute. But he was glad to see that you weren’t so shaken up anymore after everything that happened.

“Well there’s a difference between trying to be pretty and trying to show off. I didn’t even get to choose it. My manager makes me drive it. My company bought it.” He admits after fastening his seat belt and then starting the vehicle.

You give him a curious look as the car begins to move. The ride really is so smooth you can’t even tell it’s running.

“So you don’t…Like all these things?” You ask him as you run your fingers along the sleek dash of the interior.

“I like having nice things. But I don’t like boasting…That’s not exactly me.” He says as his eyes are focused on the road.

You hum to yourself wanting to ask more questions, but you keep to your thoughts for now. Seems San may not have been the stereotype you thought he was.

Ring ring !

Suddenly your phones rings and you pull it out of your bag to see who’s calling.

“Oh no! Hello-!” You answer the phone quickly to see it’s your friends. Hearing the loud music in the background as you answer.

“Where are you? Did you forget ?!”

You groan rubbing your forehead. “No I’m sorry there was some mess at work and I think I’m gonna stay in for tonight.”

“Trouble? What happened?”

“Uhm- Well- “ you didn’t want your friends to worry and rush over to your house but you also don’t want to lie to them.

“Y/n!? What happened?”

Before you could open your mouth to say anything else, San take your phone from you.

“Hello? This is San- Yes, your regular. I wasn’t able to come see you girls on time, but I did show up in time to see your friend had a pretty bad fall and hit her head. She can’t drive and I just want to make sure she’s home safe…Yes- Of course- Ahh, you girls have fun- Oh? You want me to come over after? Well just give me the name and we’ll see~. Thank you~.” He hangs up abruptly and then holds your phone out to you…And you snatch it from him.

“You really have to stop and make DATE plans with my friends on top of that excuse too?”

He gives you a surprised look. “Well you seemed like you were struggling and they know you’re okay. Problem solved.”

“You LITERALLY just made a date with the two of them.”

San shook his head with a sigh. “It’s not a date, I was invited. If you want, I can tell them everything when I see them.”

“Oh so you are going to see them.” You grumble turning to face the window. Arms folded.

“I-“ Sam glances at you. “Y/n?” You didn’t answer him and he turns his attention back to the road. “Are you jealous?”

You scoffed, letting out a chortle as you spoke. “Jealous? I’m not jealous, jealous for what?”

“Well then why do you care so much?”

“I don’t.”

“You obviously do.”

“Do whatever you want.”

“I already do.”

“Okay, good!”

Suddenly the car stops, and you look forward to see that you’re at a red light. The silence is suddenly heavy in the car, and you take your attention back out to the window. You hear San fiddling around but you don’t pay him anymore kind than that. After which, you feel something touch you. On your lap. And the car is in motion again. You look down to see a small, flat square box on your lap.

“What?” Is all you say as you look down at the box.

“I wanted to go on a date with you.”

Your eyes widen a bit before your brows are knotted in confusion. “What?!”

“When I left you alone in the cafe. I was going back to find where I had left that in the car. I waited for your friends to leave so I could ask you to dinner one on one…Then everything else happened.”

As you listened on to his little confession, you carefully picked up the little black box in your hand, and slowly lifted open the lid. You noticed the design of a velvet choker adorned with a hanging bow made of Swarovski crystals and a set of teardrop pearls dangling at the ends of the bow shape crystals. After that you noticed the brand name on the inside of the box, “Joomi Lim”. You gasped and quickly shit the box.

“This is expensive! This isn’t how you ask someone on a date!”

“Well I noticed the kind of things you wear and I thought it would suit your style.” Is all he says before adding. “And it isn’t really all that expensive.”

“Maybe not for you!” You scoff before looking down at the box in your lap. It REALLY was your style. But it was also REALLY something that was too expensive for just asking someone on a date.

Soon, the car stopped and he’s looking up at your apartment.

“So this is your place?” He asks as he puts his vehicle into park.

You didn’t say anything to him and climbed out of his car so fast. San looking confused and quickly climbing out after you.

“Hey- Hey!” He calls to you as you make your way to the door of your apartment.

Before you go inside, you stop abruptly and turn quickly to face him. Holding the box out towards him.

“I can’t accept this. Not for a date.”

“I…” The look on his face is so defeated, but he slowly take the box from your hands.

“My friends my be all googly eyes at your sparkly gifts but that’s not going to win me over. I really am thankful you saved me tonight, but don’t spend your money like that on a girl you barely know.”

“Then jsut go out with me/“

“San-“

“One date! One date and let me get to know the girl so maybe she’ll accept my gifts…I don’t want your eyes to sparkle at my gifts, but at me.” He admits and there’s something in the look on his face that just leave you dumbfounded, staring at him even though he’s waiting for an answer from you.

You move your mouth to speak, but there’s no words. Your phone begins to buzz constantly in your pocket, but as soon as you take it out of your pocket, he’s taken it from your hands again.

“Let’s exchange numbers. You’ll text me when you’re feeling better or if you need anything.” He says all while ignoring the mass of texts from your friends, before holding your phone back out to you.

You give him a soft glare before snatching it from him. “Thank you for helping me…But I think I’ll be okay from here. Goodnight, San.”

With that, you make your way into your apartment. Quickly going up to your floor, punching in your code, and slumping against your door with a heavy sigh. You took your phone into your hands seeing all the mass texts from your friends trying to probe you about San. You sighed, ignoring them for a moment and going to look at SAN’s name in your contacts. Moments later as if he knew, you saw that he had started typing.

I’m sorry

But I don’t want to date your friends

Consider going out with me

Sleep on it, and sleep well

Goodnight 💤

After getting his little string of messages, you move about your little apartment quickly, running over to your bedroom, now peering out the window where you could see him finally climbing into his car. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before sending him a simple message to drive safe. You can see him checking his phone from the driver seat before he’s peering up to finally see you at your window. Giving you the biggest smile before obnoxiously revving his engine, and speeding away.

“Freak.” You can’t help but laugh to yourself, now slumping down onto your bed.

A date with Choi San.

Definitely worth being considered.

The following weekend…

The weekend had finally arrived. You enjoyed four days off from work recovering from your injury and getting a little pampering for yourself with the help of your friends and…Then some. You were able to enjoy a good time at the club yesterday in now today… You clipped on a simple pair of crystal earrings. They weren’t anything too flashy but they suited you well. You looked over your hair, your makeup, and the black, draped, satin split thigh cami dress that you still had in your closet from a dinner party last year. It was for a different friends wedding and was probably one of the most elegant things you owned. Thank God it was perfect for the current occasion and you wouldn’t have buy another one.

You went back into your bedroom, slipping on your heels. Just as you had gotten the second one settled on, you heard a car horn outside. You smiled. A big grin across your lips- Before shaking your head and catching yourself. Wondering why you were so excited, no way were you going to be that excited. It wasn’t anything to be grinning so big about- It was just- Him.

Hearing the car horn again you roll your eyes this time quickly grabbing your bag and making your way downstairs and out of your apartment. As you did, he was standing there waiting for you, at this car, passenger door already being opened for you.

Choi San. Choi San and your first date.

You saw the look on his face and his eyes were literally, all over you. He looked surprised and at the same time there was something else behind his eyes that he just couldn’t help. He was only a man after all.

“Well, when you told me where you made the reservation, I had to look the part- Like what you see?” You teased, giving him a slow spin, to let him have a full view. The big smile you had tried so hard to get rid was right back on your face when you looked at him.

“You really wanna know?” He says in a certain tone that his him eyeing you up and down and you only shake your head before climbing into his car. He shuts the door and quickly makes his way around to pile into the drivers seat.

You would’ve freely ogled him as well, but…There was something about his eyes. Something in them that you liked to see when he looked at you. It felt good. You only knew the guy for a couple weeks but he looked at you…Genuinely. Not just the hungry eyes of a man on a mission, but a genuine, curious gaze. Almost puppy like sometimes.

“Hey? Did you hear me?”

San’s voice finally snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked over to him. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

He laughed before he spoke again. “I asked if you’ve ever been to the restaurant before? Since you picked a dress for the place.”

“Ah- I haven’t been to that one, but I went to another similar one for a wedding dinner party. So I know a thing or two about boujee eateries.” You said with a little shimmy of your shoulders.

“Well aren’t you in a good mood- Your head is all better, yeah?” He asks, and as he does you feel a hand gently caressing the back of your head. Careful not to hurt you? Carefully not to mess up your hair?

Whatever it was, it sent a shiver down your spine, especially when warm fingertips danced down your nap before he pulled his hand away.

“I- Uhm.” You swallowed. “Yeah it’s fine- It’s fine uh, completely healed. It wasn’t that bad. You know.” You were fiddling with your bag in your lap now.

“I’m sorry, thinking about it- You probably don’t wanna talk about it right now.” He says and you shake your head.

It’s not the situation at all, it’s the way your whole body started screaming because of his fingertips. Fucking fingertips. Seriously what were you a giddy girl in junior high all over again. You scolded yourself before looking to him.

“I don’t mind talking about it you just- Ask about me a lot, but I’m really okay. You jsut seem a lot more bothered by it than I am?” You lean a bit to see his face, teasing but the way he exhales tells you something else. “San?”

“I have a sister. She was getting off of work late and was trying to get home and she was attacked kind of like you were. He was one of our own employees at the office. She took a pretty big blow to the head and when she was resting at the hospital…Well, it was a month later until my sister finally opened her eyes again.”

“Oh…Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” A frown graces your expression now but for some reason he smile.

“Oh she’s absolutely fine now- And it’s okay how would you know?” He asks, glancing over to you for a moment.

“I guess you’re right.” You still couldn’t help but feel a bit mopey about the whole thing.

“Hey.” He takes a hand from the steering wheel, holding it out obviously wanting yours. You out your hand in his, and he brings it to his lips, your entire face matching the red lights in the distance you’re sure. “That’s what tonight is for. To get to know each other better.”

And for the rest of the drive, that’s where your hand was. In his. Fingers intertwined. His thumb occasionally rubbing over yours. Talking and going about it all so casually as if he was so comfortable. It’s not that you were uncomfortable, but you didn’t expect the little things to be having such a big affect. I guess you might have to admit it…You might have a thing for Choi San.

After you got to the restaurant, which was a little more than you had thought- Two valets approached his car, opening the doors for you both, and taking his keys. Leaving you to turn around to him looking a bit appalled.

“Okay so is this dinner or an event because I feel like a Disney Princess-“ You ask him as you look at the small line of people and a man with a GUEST list at the front of the entrance.

He laughed. “It’s just a pretty restaurant like any other. Except it has dinner and dancing.”

“Dancing? What- You didn’t- You didn’t say anything about dancing I-“ You laughed nervously looking all around as if there was anywhere to run.

“Y/n-“ He places his hands on your shoulders. “You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. It’s just a theme. Not some stuck up ballroom gig. Now turn around and close your eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes and turns your around himself. Opening your mouth to bicker you only huff and mutter something under your breathe. Now feeling something soft and a bit snug around your neck and his fingers fiddling with a clasp.

“You didn’t-“

“I knew you’d end up wearing something to suit it, so yes I did. If you want to give it back after the date that’s fine, but I want to see you wear it. At least once.” He admits and you sigh.

It was indeed the same choker that you had returned to him a few days prior, the night everything else had happened.

“Fine. I mean- It suits me anyway right?” You going your fingers up to plays with the dangling crystals.

“Definitely.”

And with that, he offers you his arm, leading you inside. The man didn’t even bother checking the guest list, simply smiling and nodding at San as the two of you skipped the line, and went straight inside. Definitely not what you were expecting, but you couldn’t help but appreciate the privilege. You were starting to feel more like San was a prince and not some model and actor.

“My fathers a politician.” He whispers to you suddenly as he brings you closer, keeping you close to him as you move through the other tables to get to your own.

“Ah…Was I thinking that loud?” You joke and he puts a smile on his face.

“Your face said it all.”

After getting to your table, which appeared to be a nice little private are. With maybe 6 other tables in the room and an open area for dancing, the place looked gorgeous. Definitely not an aesthetic you expected to see a lot of in Korea, but it was nonetheless eye catching. The waiters pulled out your chairs for you, and already had a bottle of wine waiting at your table. They gave you your menus, and promised to be back with you momentarily. As you opened the menu you immediately shut it.

“San- Oh my god, what are they charging you for the whole crop !?” You whisper at him loudly.

“Don’t worry about the price, I don’t even pay for anything when I come here. And I’ve never been here.” He glances up above his menu giving you a look.

“What do you mean?”

“Well” He starts, flipping through the menu. “My father and some friends invest in the place. So my dad pays for my visits. But I’ve never actually come here.”

“But I thought you’d have been on lots of dates before…?” You ask now slowly opening the menu.

“I have.” He answers. “But not with girls that I would bring to a place like this. Not with girls I really liked.”

He says that and your eyes are wide, staring at him over the menu. His gaze meets yours and you can tell he’s smiling so big, quickly hiding back behind your menu.

After finally ordering and still unable to shake the feeling that this was going to dig a pretty steep ditch in someone’s wallet, you tried to focus on actually enjoying your meal, which was delicious, and your date, who was…Probably the most amazing guy you’ve actually met. Despite his lifestyle. You had asked you more questions than you were able to ask him. He was genuinely curious about you and all the thing you liked, where you wanted to go, your even shared a few stories about your childhood and your worst dates. The man you were sitting at the table with didn’t seem anything like the guy you would see when he was around your friends or other girls. Why, your friends had even met a bet that he was going to talk about himself the entire date or try to take you home. So far most of the conversation was about…You.

And now, you were in his arms, completely sharing your personal space with this man on the dance floor. You weren’t really a slow dancing or waltz kind of girl, but you knew how to. And the way he looked down at you was almost overwhelming. His eyes were reading your mind you were sure, and you were surprised with how warm and fuzzy your head was getting, you weren’t tripping over yourself. But something in his smile told you he knew the affecting he was having.

“You know I won’t bite, right?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say anything.” You counter, clearing your throat.

“You’re a really good dance though? A little stuff but, we can work on that.” He says before sending you out for a twirl and bringing you back in to be met with a scoff.

“Oh, so what’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, tilting your head a bit.

“What do you think it means?” He quirks a brow, that annoying but sexy smirk tugging at his lips.

“I think it sounds like someone assuming he’s getting another date?” You question, your hand that was at his shoulder now playing taking your fingers down to tease his chest.

“Well..I-“ This time he clears his throat, and looks away from with the most wounded expression and you can’t help but laugh, hiding your face in his chest to muffle the cackle.

“Yeah, how does it feel?” You tease looking back up at him with the biggest grin and you could see him failing to hide a smile.

“Oh shut up.”

“It’s okay.” You laugh. “We can go out again, for sure but maybe…Tone it down like 50 notches?”

He nods, giving you a sigh. “Agreed. To be honest I had no idea where I was going, I just started following the stuff that came to me in time before I embarrassed myself.”

This time you’re throwing a hand over your mouth to contain your laughter. This time he didn’t complain or tell you to shut up but he only smiled. Watching you get it all out of your system through a mess of laughing apologies.

“Glad to see you’re having so much fun then.”

“I’m sorry! I-I am I just- You’re really- You’re really a different guy than what I had started to think.” You finally calm yourself down, looking up to him with a smile. At this point your body was completely comfortable against his, and you’re sure you were mostly swaying at this point than slow dancing, but you didn’t really care. You had a feeling he didn’t either.

“Well I meant it. I’m glad you’re having fun. I’ve never had- A real first date like this. Definitely not one that was actually more talking and less- Well I think you get it.”

“I think I do.” you move your arms now to wrap them around his shoulders completely and you see the hues of pink rise in his cheeks and the goofiest grin on his face making you laugh again. “But this floor is killing my feet and I’m sure it’s way past midnight, so why don’t we call it a night, huh?”

“Ah- Shit..” he mutters. “I forgot you opened in the morning. I shouldn’t have-“

You press a finger to his lips. “It’s seriously okay. I had fun.”

After that, the two of you had gathered your things from the table. Leaving a tip for the waiter, the musicians, and the valet on your way out, and were back inside his car and on your way back to the apartment. Your face had never hurt so much from so much smiling and laughing. The two of you never stopped talking and the way San told his stories about some of his friends when he was in his element, probably would have had you on the floor. The two of you even turned on the radio and sang and danced along to most of the songs that came on. Even a few rap titles. He was actually so silly, and pretty sweet. Such the opposite of whatever stereotype you originally pegged him with…But in the back of your mind you didn’t want to let yourself get too deep. Unfortunately, that was too late.

As you reached your apartment, you looked up to your floor with a sigh. It was 1:30AM and you had work at 6AM. But nonetheless you still had such a good time, and honestly didn’t even feel that exhausted anymore now that you were here.

As he usually had in any other case, San comes around to open your door for you, helping you out of the car.

“Ill see you in the morning?” He asks you as he clothes the door to the passenger seat.

You sigh, now leaning back against his car for a moment. Looking up to him with a certain look. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning…I really did have a lot of fun tonight.”

“I did too. Definitely the best date I’ve ever had.”

After saying this, he moves to take your hand in his, raising it to his lips, and placing a kiss over your fingers. You feel that same feeling once again that you had when he had done the same thing in the car but…Something else.

“Is that all?”

You ask suddenly, surprising yourself for a moment as you didn’t actually mean to say the words the way you did. San now giving you a mirroring look. You swallowed. You didn’t want to say it. You knew exactly what you wanted it but you couldn’t verbally admit it. Your pride was already hurting from the surely pleading and desperate look you were giving the man. His eyes were glued to yours and he was in your space all over agains. Hands coming up in mere second to cup your face before his lips are on yours. Your body pressed back against his car and your arms thrown around his shoulders again. Making him move his hands from your face to grip at your waist. It was a bit rough, but the longing and passion was definitely reciprocated. He kissed you like he was hungry and you did the same, humming into his mouth the moment you felt a tongue slip past your lips. You didn’t bother challenging him this time, and comply let your tongues dance, letting him claim your mouth, tasting the delectable flavor that was Choi San now definitely stuck in your senses.

Yeah. You definitely had a thing for Choi San.

The next few weeks that passed, were almost perfect. San would come to see you every morning when he could and every night when he could. You would spend time with him on your days off, not full blown dates, but lazing around a park, going for a driven, and even spending time at your apartment. Cooking, cleaning, watching dramas, even taking a nap together. And not once had he tried to anything well, frisky. It was amazing. Even with his schedules keeping him away from you from time to time. Yet- Nothing was more miserable than this week. You wouldn’t be seeing San at all. He wouldn’t even be in the country. He had to fly out for work and it wouldn’t be back from finishing his scenes for an entire week. He called you of course. Had lunch sent to your work, and you FaceTimed. But it just made you want even more. You missed his smile everytime he saw you, hearing laugh right there next you, his hands, his lips, the way you could see his eyes shine when he looked at you. Everything that was Choi San. Was now thousands of miles away and you wanted to melt into the ground.

I’ll be back on the first flight tonight, so you’ll see me tomorrow morning

You click your tongue letting out an obnoxious sigh. “That’s still way too long you just don’t want to see me.”

Come on now-

“Probably posted up with one of your foreign side pieces.” You tease with a smile on your face.

You are the most unfunniest person I have ever met

You could hear the deadpan in his voice and couldn’t help but laugh. “Im sorry, I had to.”

Uh huh. What are you doing anyway.

“Well- I was, going to the club with my friends. This new place that just opened with an indoor pool, like what?! But then they flaked on me. So now-“ You paused as you were going to dig around for your pajamas. “Im getting changed, and gonna post up.”

Oh? That’s too bad. I really liked your dress.

“Yeah, we’ll-“ You paused for a moment. “Wait what?”

The sexy little red number you have on.

You furrow your brows for a moment before looking around your apartment- Then darting to your bedroom window. Now looking out to see San, leaning against his car and looking up at you with grin. You squeal, hanging your phone up immediately and you have never moved so fast down a flight of stairs. The moment you hit the pavement he was moving to meet you halfway, taking you up in his arms at you threw your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. Peppering him with kisses.

“You ass, why didn’t you just say you were home?!”

He laughed against your lips, before pulling away, gently setting you back on the ground. “I wanted to surprise you. I may or may not have told your friends to do my a little favor…”

You smiled even bigger knowing what he meant, and couldn’t have been happier. Though you still really wanted to check out the club, this was still something you’d take any day.

“You wanna come inside? When did you even get back you must be exhausted.” You take his arms from around you now to hold his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers, and of course he’s raising your hands to his lips.

“I was thinking maybe we could have another date night.” He says, still taking his time place a kiss across each of your fingers.

“Oh? And where did you have in mind?”

“I thought maybe we’d stay in-“

“Stay in? Stay in where?” You quirked a brow, looking up to him. “Oh, you-…You want to stay another night at my place?”

“Stay in at my place.” He answers so casually and your mouth opens, yet without words.

Usually that meant one of every few things. That and well, you knew he was probably pretty rich at this point…You’d feel out of place probably walking into some lavish geometric abode, compared to your modest studio apartment.

“Unless you don’t want to?” He suddenly asks, you didn’t even realize how long you took to respond.

“Oh-! No, no I’d love to see your place.” You say with a pout before wrapping your arms around his waist, now smiling up at him.

He smiles at you, now cupping your cheeks before planting a kiss on your lips. “Good. Don’t change. Keep your swimsuit and pack an overnight bag.”

After that, he lets you go and quickly runs around to the driver side of his car.

“Wait- Wait! An overnight bag?! Hey!? Hey!”

He didn’t answer you, only blasting some super loud love song, now rolling down the window and singing the song at the top of his lungs and point to you as he danced in his seat to the lyrics. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips and shook your head before running back inside. Quickly packing an overnight bag before running downstairs and climbing into his car. Throwing the bag into the backseat. The entire drive, you couldn’t keep your hands off him. His hand playing up your thigh from time to time, and yours playing in his hair- Teasing up his thigh- playing with his ears. Just playful little touches while the both of you talked about his trip for his movie. You didn’t even realize how much later it had already begun to get while he was driving. A good hour and then some had passed. You had eventually decided on taking a nap, leaning your head up against the window. By the time you had opened your eyes again, you were looking on a luxurious structure. Like one of the houses you’d see one of the rich characters in a k-drama living in.

“Am I…Am I still asleep…?” You murmur, squinting your eyes a bit as you looked out through the window, taking in a view.

San chuckles as he shuts off the car. “No, we’re finally here. It’s one of my dads places.”

“ONE of?” You look to him making sure you heard him correctly.

“We have his actually home- A property where his does business, then there’s my place annnnd after that there’s this house.” He says as he climbs out of the car, now reaching into the backseat to grab your overnight bag.

“And what’s this one for?” You ask, finally getting out of the car with him, eyes still glued to the house.

“This one is for uhhh-“ He stalled a bit. “Recreation.”

“Recreation, huh?” You turn around to give him a certain look, watching the smile spread on his face as he comes around the car to you. Snaking an arm around your waist.

“Just get inside you pervert.” He says before tugging you along with him.

To be honest the house is beautiful. But it didn’t have that ‘lived in’ feeling so you assumed it was very rarely used, if used at all. You mostly followed him around, getting a quick tour on your way to- Well, your way to the main bedroom. He introduced you to all the features in mundane color scheme, not that you really minded, but he didn’t seem as intrigued.

“You don’t seem too excited about the place- You must’ve been here often?” You ask him suddenly, watching as he plops down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

“I’ve actually never been here. I just thought you would like it and well- My house is still full of movie set equipment and I don’t think you’re quite ready to meet my family yet.” He chuckles.

You give him a playful pout, shuffling over to stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Draping your arms over his shoulders and his hands now coming to your waist.

“Awh- I’m not good enough to meet your family?” You tilt your head to the side before he shakes his head at you.

“Don’t want my family to scare you off.” He admits before spreading his legs so he can pull you closer, now nuzzling against your stomach.

You give a soft chuckle, at his actions, and he doesn’t respond with much. His hands moving from your sides now to slowly play his fingertips underneath the netting of shirt you were wearing over your swimsuit. You closed your eyes with a hum, feeling his fingertips against your skin and tilting your head a bit more. As your shirt was brought up more, it was more than his hands over your skin. His lips, pressing slow kisses against your stomach…Slow and sweet before they were wet and hungrier. Your hands gripping his shoulders now as you felt his teeth from time to time. Letting his name fall out in a sigh from your lips. You weren’t sure where this was going, but you didn’t want to think right now. Just enjoy the sensations he was giving you right now. The moment you felt his hands on your breasts, you whimpered finally opening your eyes, but only to pull off the netting off a shirt and toss it to the side. The only thing stopping his actions, as he pulls you closer to straddle his lap. You could feel the erection in his jeans and there was a look in his eyes that made you want to just give in and give him everything. For that moment that you were absently rolling your hips against him, your soft pants loud in the emptiness of the room- He changes your positions, putting you on your back and hovering over you now. Evident lust in his eyes as he leans down to whisper in your ear….

“Get ready for the pool~”

And with that you see the biggest grin on his face as pulls away from you, now going over the dresser, to pull out a random pair of black swim shorts. You prop up on your elbows with an utter look of disbelief on your face.

“You’re kidding me?”

“What? You don’t wanna swim?” He says giving you the most innocent look and you’re grabbing a pillow of the bed to fling it at him. Watching him laugh before he runs out of the room and you only chase after him with the other pillow.

Some time had passed with your little playful game of cat and mouse around the house before you were actually settled into proper swimwear. You only having to take off your shorts. And after the embarrassing conversation since you failed to mention you couldn’t really swim- You were just fine watching your shirtless boyfriend swim around and splash at you from the pool while you two just passed the Tim until the stars hung so high. You’re sure it was much closer to midnight, but you didn’t care. But your mind had begun to wander. So much that you guess the look on your face made San worried as he swam closer to you with a concerned expression.

“What’s wrong? What’s the look for?”

You sigh shaking your head before speaking.

“It’s really just…We’ve been dating for like a month…I didn’t know you were- rich rich and I mean I just- It’s embarrassing that I didn’t even know who you were when we met…”

You hear the chuckle come from his lips and the splash of the water as he moves over to edge of the pool where you sat.

“Don’t be- That’s kind of what made me attracted to you. I don’t get to meet a lot of people that just- Be themselves around me you know?” He looks up at you with the most sincere gaze and your heart does a dangerous thing.

“Ah, well…I was kind of bitch when we met-“

“You have a strong sense of self.”

“I called you an asshole.”

“And my manager took your coffee and your parking spot.”

You both laugh as you reiterate the story. The moment felt so long ago, yet the two of you had only been about on 4 dates for the one month that you’d known him more intimately. You were a headstrong, struggling waitress and he was a silver spoon model. You had never really paid attention to his types before but- Well San was something a little different.

As you had caught yourself gazing out at the stars, you hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten until you felt his hands on your knees…Slowly spread your legs apart to put himself even closer to you. And as if he read your mind he asks you-

“What about you? What made you go on a date with me in the first place?” He asks you, wet hands rubbing up and down along your thighs.

“W-well uhm- Well I talked to my friends about you a lot. Complaining mostly- And uh- uhm they said that- They were making a bet that you’d probably spend half the date talking about yourself and…Trying to get into my pants.” You admitted a bit shamefully now and obviously distracted.

The laugh that came out of him honestly didn’t help and made your cheeks heat up even more. Kicking your legs at him but not really doing much good with him just cozy between them in the pool and you still plopped on the edge.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry that’s just funny. I don’t sleep with anyone on the first date. It’s usually the girls that I go out with that try. But I had a feeling you weren’t like that. Of course that just made me want you more…” He admits, and you watch his gaze leave yours trailing down to somewhere else…

“W…What do you mean by that?”

“Well- You’re very independent. You gave the necklace back when I genuinely thought it might be something that suited you- I’m so used to girls that are bending over backwards for my attention…But you make me want to beg for yours.” Again, finally his eyes were back to lock with yours. Your words were stuck at your throat, especially with his curious hands working towards the obvious.

“My attention...huh?” You tried to sound confident but you’re sure he heard the tremble in your voice.

“Yes. Your attention. I was groomed and raised to be this- Perfect gentleman. Then when I got to the agency- I was given this stuck persona.” He shakes his head, now biting his lips, eyes trailing back down to the area between your legs. “But…”

“But…?” You question, swallowing the imaginary lump in your throat.

“But you make me wanna abandon all the proper gentlemen and smug model stuff. I just wanna be greedy…” His hands slowly slide back up to the strings of your bikini that were already loosely tied at your hips. “With my woman. I want you to be obsessed with me, and only me.”

You closed your eyes letting your head tilt back just a little. Trying to even out your breath as you felt him pull on the strings of your swim bottoms, untying them and taking a wet thumb already to rub between your folds, massaging over your clit.

“I know I’ve said I don’t sleep with girls on the first date…But the more time I spend with you the more I want you like this. But…It I do it then it’s just me. Only me. Even if you just wanna stick to fucking me after I’m gonna be the only guy you’re fucking.”

Your brows came together, and you whimpered just hearing his words. A chuckle coming from his lips and the motions of his thumb getting rougher, making your thighs tremble for a moment.

“I-I’m good with that…”

“Oh?” He quirks a brow. “So you just wanna fuck me huh?”

“N-no! I mean…If you wanna be the only guy-…” You bite your lip, tilting your head back even further. Not even getting to finish your sentence as he’s slowly plunging his middle finger inside you, and working his thumb back over your clit.

“Go on now, what were you saying?” He encourages, moving his finger in and out of you more suddenly as if that was his hurrying motion. Your words came out in a mess of soft moans.

“I want you, you can have me- I want you to fuck me.” You hum out not caring how it all looked or sounded right now.

Meanwhile, his eyes were on you, gawked, watching every little move you made. You miss the scene, but he licks his lips and slowly pulls his finger out of you. Then, you look back down at him with a disappointed whine, but not for long. The moment your eyes are on him, you’re watching him spread your thighs further on the pool edge, and lean in to swipe his tongue between your folds. Your grip the edges of the pool, sucking in a gasp with your jaw hanging for more moans to make their way out.

He’s teasing, slowly dragging his tongue between your folds, again and again, hands braced on your thighs. You’re moaning a lot more than you’d like to admit, but the ‘date’ was going along a lot better than you expected. Feeling his lips around your clit, sucking at the nub, your thighs jerk, closing slightly and you have a hand tangle in his wet locks. His name slips for your lips and his assault on your clit suddenly stops, and he’s slipping a greedy tongue inside you.

Both of your hands are in his hair now, back arching against nothing and sending your moans out to the stars. It’s only when you feel him lifting your legs to prop your knees over his shoulders that you have to topple back. Now propped on one hand as you catch yourself from falling on the stone. Your hips rolling now to meet the motions of his tongue- And his actions only seem to get hungrier. Chanting his name in high moans as your chest heaves, breathing becoming so frantic in the end- Your legs shake, you’re gritting your teeth and letting out a wordless cry as you release all into the mans mouth.

Panting heavily as you look down with erratic breathes, watching him pull his tongue away from you. A string of your juices still connecting his tongue to your cunt. Your eyes are teary, and you finally realize how tight you’re gripping his hair before slowly loosening your grip.

“I-I’m sorry…” You breathe out, catching your breathe finally as you move your hand from his hair, to take your fingers through yours.

For a moment you’re just there- Eyes closed trying to come down from your eyes. San’s tongue still teasing at your thighs and your pussy. Lapping up your juices, and suckling from time to time. Your body twitched from time to time before you finally grabbed him by his hair again with a groan.

“Come on, anymore of your mouth and you’re gonna dry me out.” You huff before hearing a hum come from him, hands now slowly lifting your legs from his shoulders to place them back into the water fully.

“Well- Time to get to that other part we discussed.” He says as he licks you off is his lips, hands massaging your thighs still, seeming to enjoy your trembling under his fingertips.

“O-other part?”

“Being the only guy you’re fucking part.”

[marlynnofmany]

Human at Work

When our ship landed to deliver the overdue shipment of weird little space goats, I admit I was surprised when I saw what their owners looked like. “Big,” I’d been told. “Polite,” as well. Even “Very careful about where they step.” But no one had told me to expect pink elephants.

I almost stopped in my tracks as I exited the ship, only jumping forward again when a shipmate’s bug leg prodded my shoulder blade. I stepped quickly and did my best to stare without slowing up to the proceedings.

Our small crew was bringing the cages out onto a landing pad raised off the ground, level with the average head height of the gigantic life forms whose home planet this was. They strolled by on business of their own, each with six legs and trunks in pairs: top and bottom. Their tails looked prehensile too. But the most striking part was the color: as bright pink as any flamingo, with flappy ears that faded to a more salmon-orange with yellow edges. All they needed was polka dots to look like the most absurd hallucination this side of the Milky Way.

“Hello, esteemed client!” announced our captain as he led the procession toward the pink face waiting at the edge of the platform. Captain Pockap was, I’d learned, the nephew of the captain of our sister ship, and somewhat new at this. I hoped he was waving his green tentacles at the right alien.

This elephant was pretty noteworthy, actually. Its eyes had the white haze of cataract sufferers on Earth. And as we approached, it moved its ears down to show a hat of some sort— Wait. No.

It that a human on its head?? I thought as I walked. What the heck?

It was. While Captain Pockap greeted the alien that still hadn’t spoken, I took in the sight of the muscley blonde guy perched on a saddle that was clearly custom-made for this scenario. He was wearing weird little booties and had one foot raised, like he was ready to tap out a message on the alien’s head.

“And hello to you too!” Pockap concluded with a wave up at the human.

The pink behemoth finally spoke. “Kindly do not distract my seeing-eye human,” it said in a deep voice. “He is working.”

Pockap gave many flowery apologies, which the alien ignored in favor of enquiring about the state of its cargo.

“The animals are in perfectly good health,” Pockap said. “Though they did give us some trouble. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist—”

His demands for additional money were interrupted by urgent hisses from several crewmates who knew better, and (thankfully) by the arrival of another giant pink elephant.

The two aliens spoke in rumbles almost too low to hear. The crewmates yelled at the captain in whispers. I stood awkwardly to the side, a newcomer without much stake in any of this.

“Hey,” called a different voice. “Quick question.” It was the human guy, waving me over while his employer (owner?) was busy with conversation.

I trotted to the edge of the platform, careful not to lean too far. No railing. “Yes?”

“Is there one ship like that, or two?” he asked, pointing over my shoulder at the lemon-looking thing we’d come in.

“Oh! Two,” I told him. “The other one looks just like it. Parked over thataway.” I pointed off to where Kamm’s ship was picking up a new courier job. The two were nearly the exact same model on the outside, though only one had corridors tall enough for me to stand comfortably.

“Thank you,” the guy said in clear relief. “I wasn’t sure I was describing it right. Glad I directed her to the right one.”

“Yeah, you got it!” I said. I made to move back toward the crew, but he had one more thing to say.

“If you’re looking for a change in careers, there’s plenty of demand for sight assistance here,” the guy said. “We work in shifts, and the pay is good.”

“Oh, uh, thanks! I’ll keep that in mind.” This wasn’t the type of career I was aiming for, but it certainly was memorable. I wondered if there was a foot-tap code.

The second elephant said its goodbyes and moved off, leaving the seeing-eye human to snap to attention and catch his employer up to speed with the surroundings. No one had moved much except for me. I sidled back to where I was supposed to be.

Wiser minds had prevailed, thankfully. Pockap didn’t press for extra fees, and the blind pink elephant who owned the goats didn’t say anything about his conversational misstep. I was quietly shaking my head about how strange my life had gotten when Pockap got involved in moving the cages onto the waiting cart, and he bumped the controls that let all of the goats out.

They immediately bounded across the platform in a wave of gleeful orange tentacle-fur, kicking up their heels and knocking each other over. Their scrambling was only matched by the ship’s crew going for the nets to catch them again.

I chased after two of the little troublemakers who broke away from the herd to make a mad dash toward the alien elephant at the edge of the platform. I could see the human tapping urgently at the giant head, but not soon enough. One of the goats skidded to a stop while the other sprang across empty space to land beside him.

He caught it. Just leaned forward in his harness and snatched it up like a wayward puppy. The one that had stayed on the platform was already scampering back toward the ship.

“Good catch!” I called. “Hey, are they poisonous?” No one had been able to say for sure, and it seemed like an important detail right now.

“Only if you’re allergic to bees!” the human said as he bundled the wriggling creature into his shirt. Anemone-tendril fur smacked his face.

“Thanks, good to know!” I said. “Let me grab a cage to put that one in.” I darted off while the blind elephant asked what was happening with more patience than the situation deserved.

Thankfully for all involved, our ship was the only one on the platform, and the door was shut. Those frisky goatlings had nowhere to go but around in circles. Not that they minded running in circles, of course, but it was only a matter of time before the crew managed to grab them one way or another. Mostly with nets. Sometimes with hands — or the equivalent — and sometimes with trash cans or whatever else was convenient. I hauled a single-occupancy cage over to the edge and got permission to climb onboard the giant alien’s head in order to retrieve the little critter that was trying to kick free.

I almost lost it over the edge. Almost. But the client didn’t need to know that. I got it in the cage and put the cage back on the cart with the rest, and that was all the mattered. The animals were none the worse for their adventure.

Pockap was allergic to bees, though.

“You finish up here,” he wheezed to the yellow Heatseeker who was already ushering him back toward the ship with exasperation on her lizardy face.

She spoke into her communicator to the crewmembers still on the ship. “Need a medical scan for the captain. Toxins and allergens. Quickly, please. He’s — okay yes, Zhee is carrying him in now.”

The gaudy purple Mesmer had scooped up the captain like an octopus that needed to be tossed back into the sea. It looked like an awkward motion with his praying mantis arms, but then, everything looked awkward to me and my human hands.

“Our sincere apologies,” said the new acting captain, coming to join me at the edge of the platform where she could address the client. “In all honesty, that spokesperson is not suited to this job. I hope his incompetence hasn’t caused you undue distress.”

It hadn’t. The large alien was more amused than anything, and willing enough to finish the transaction. Moments later, payment had been transferred and the animals were in a transport car, off to be someone else’s problem. I looked around to make absolutely sure that there were no sneaky little orange faces hiding somewhere. All clear.

“Farewell,” rumbled the elephant. “Safe travels.” It turned away from the platform slowly, leaving plenty of time for the human on its head to scan for tripping hazards and give the all clear. “Home, Jeeves.”

I held in a burst of laughter. Jeeves? That can’t be his real name. Did the first person to be a seeing-eye human suggest that as a job title? Amazing.

A cutesy little peeping noise told me the acting captain was doing her people’s version of a sharp whistle for my attention.

“Sorry, coming,” I said. Everyone else was heading for the ship, and I brought up the rear.

“Considering a job change?” she asked with a flick of her tail.

“No thank you,” I said. “A noble cause, I’m sure, but it doesn’t speak to me. I’d rather stay with you folks.”

“Good,” she told me, walking faster. “You’ll be useful to have on hand when we tell Pockap that we’re voting him out of the captain’s chair.”

“Oh my,” I managed. And I thought today was already as eventful as it was going to get.

~~~

(More backstory for the book. I’ve already got the next bit planned out!)

[cielpansyhive]

Cielpansyhive multichapter WIP list!

All of these are in various stages. Some fics are completely plotted, hence the chapter count, some chapters are to be decided still. Others are mostly figured out, a few are vague ideas. A handful of them already have a chapter mostly written that just hasn't been posted yet. I'm including works I have posted on AO3 but haven't finished in this list. I've been busy the past few years, I just haven't been posting or talking about my works. I'd love to answer questions about any of these, without spoiling anything of course.

Kuroshitsuji:

Revamp – Heavy LGBTQ+ characters and themes, modern setting. Sebastian rents out a room in Ciel’s house. After much flirting and interests are made aware, Ciel will have to admit to Sebastian he’s a trans man that has been living in stealth. Sebastian was never able to explore his identity freely. Both have old trauma they must navigate as well as society and family’s expectations. Friends to lovers sebaciel. Found family and discovery of identity. Drag queens galore! Background Alois/Lizzie, Grell/Madam Red, Agni/Soma. Slice of life, smut, sex positivity, mental health, trauma, angst with happy ending. (20 chapters) Currently under revision as this was my first fic!

Skilamalink – Crimson Peak AU, early 1900’s. Two brothers and their mysterious butler must find a way to get their hands on a small fortune. Their inheritance is sinking into the red clay. Ciel Phantomhive searches for a new bride in hopes of marrying into wealth. Tragedy follows the Phantomhives like a dark shadow. Astre Phantomhive is deathly ill and in need of treatment. While he knows there are sinister things that go on behind the scenes, in his wildest dreams he could never imagine what is being kept from him. When Elizabeth Midford comes into the picture secrets begin to unfold. Horror, whump, mystery, murder, ghosts, dark fic, smut, romance, multiple ships, implied incest, satisfying ending. (6 chapters)

Freakshow – 1930’s circus AU, The Great Depression era, prohibition. Sebastian has searched the city only to have every door slammed in his face. Reluctantly he turns to the only place he hasn't tried, the circus. The last thing he wants to be viewed as is a freak, but he doesn't blend in society very well with Marfan syndrome. Circus owner William T. Spears is falling apart at the seams. His circus is failing, though he'd never admit it to anyone. Too many people depend on him, namely his twin sons, Ciel and Astre. Ciel is the star of the show, the biggest and brightest. His acts include knife throwing, magic, and good old fashion card tricks, made even more impressive by his blindness. Even with the crowds dwindling, he's not ready to move out from center stage. Especially not for the rookie new act. Astre is bored to death. The circus has been the same for years. Same people, same acts, same crippling anxiety that keeps him from performing. People try to make the circus seem spectacular, but to Astre it's just dull, everyday life. Astre has a difficult time making friends due to his inability to speak. Heavy angst, some dark themes, slow burn, past Snake/Astre. (Chapters TBD)

Rumors – Famous AU. Modern setting. A model and a rockstar couple, how original. Sebastian and his band are at the top of their game. Everyone wants to interview them, the paparazzi won’t leave them alone, and rumors fly in an instant. Ciel’s a well-known heir and model, finally making his first semi-public appearance since he was held for ransom. People want his story, at least what they can’t already see. Ciel is never without his eyepatch and gloves, he refuses to talk about that day. He attempts to move forward with his modeling career. Ciel hasn’t been laid in years, of course he won’t turn down the handsome rock star that approaches him at a party. For Sebastian it’s been…a few days. Sebastian has never had a serious relationship, but Ciel interests him. Sebastian invites Ciel to join them on their mini tour. Ciel would have to leave behind the security of his home and his own personal bodyguard for the first time in years. It’s all sex (a lot of sex), drugs, and rock n roll. Sebastian and Ciel try to navigate a relationship they must hide. Both are on the edge of self-destruction. Angst, intense themes, trauma, drug use, self-harm, eating disorders, mostly hurt/barely comfort, betrayal, lots of smut, hopeful ending. (9 chapters)

Bloody Bastian – American Mary AU. Modern setting. Sebastian is a surgical student getting ready to start his residency. Med school isn’t cheap, financial aid didn’t even cover books and materials and his bills were piling up. It was difficult to locate a job that would work with his schedule. He finds an ad that a local strip club has posted. They state women or men can apply, it’s worth a shot. Sebastian enters the club. It looks clean enough, not just a hole in the wall that won’t pay minimum wage. The owner, Bard, takes an interest in Sebastian even though he seems overly qualified. Sebastian’s schooling comes in handy as he becomes involved with illegal surgeries that pay fast cash. He remembers his vow to, “do no harm,” but when do the lines blur? His world becomes tangled in revenge and body modifications. Bard pines over Sebastian and will do whatever it takes to make him happy. Detective Ciel Phantomhive is investigating the disappearance of Sebastian’s previous professor. How long before the pressure causes Sebastian to crack? Dark fic, graphic content, angst, murder, non-con, trauma, slight Sebard and Sebaciel. Vague/open ending. (7 chapters)

Razor’s Edge – Black Swan AU. Modern setting. Ciel has finally landed the role as the Swan Queen. Sebastian, an award-winning dancer from England is to be Prince Siegfried. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing bonds two people in a blooming romance like covering up a murder. Stress is high on the duo as it is. A shadow from the past seems to follow Ciel. Sebastian may have signed himself up to be Ciel’s unofficial bodyguard as threats rise. Dark fic, open ended ending. (7 chapters)

In the Woods Somewhere – College AU with Bird!Bastian. Modern setting. Ciel Phantomhive has been murdered…or at least he would have been if he didn’t make a deal with a strange man from the forest. The man who becomes known as Sebastian finds himself trapped on the surface level. The fine print of Ciel’s contract has bound him for the entire ten years. Ciel is a sickly human that could benefit from someone like Sebastian, if he’s willing to be his student. Ciel is missing half a year’s worth of his memory and can’t recall who tried to murder him or why. Sebastian follows Ciel around campus and attempts to help solve his murder. Between classes Sebastian teaches Ciel a little magic. They visit the woods often for Sebastian to stretch his wings and Ciel to take nature photos. Ciel would have never guessed he’d fall for this strange, bird demon or that it would be reciprocated. Mystery, humor, magic, hurt/comfort, whump (Chapters TBD)

Break Your Halo – Angel/demon AU. Modern setting. After a church collapses three survivors are sent to the hospital. Two civilians are unconscious and in critical condition while the priest is awake. He demands to know if the basement is still intact because “it” must not be let out. Both civilians begin to heal impossibly fast and without their memory. They go by Ciel and Sebastian. They are put in a semi-private room and become friends. They start noticing some odd things and confide in one another. The doctors would think they’re crazy, they already think there’s something wrong with them. They were both at death’s door and overnight they’ve healed as if they’ve been there for months. Maybe they aren’t human, they need answers. Whump, smut (5 chapters)

Nymph – Canon divergent AU.Ciel sleeps with everyone except Sebastian and Sebastian is not having it, that’s it, that’s the fic. Adult Ciel being hit with all the urges he missed in his teens. Every chapter starts out with a frustrated Sebastian complaining in his journal. Yes, a demon keeping a journal is cracky. Some humor, but mostly smut. Ciel/Finny, Ciel/Bard, Ciel/Mey-Rin, Ciel/Soma/Agni, Ciel/Snake, Ciel/Undertaker, Ciel/Charles Grey, Ciel/Nina (8 chapters)

Phantom – Phantom of the Opera AU. Set in 1880s France. Sebastian finally debuts as the star the “angel” trained him to be. He has devoted his life to music and the voice he’d talk to in the dead of night. Sebastian is pleasantly surprised to find out his childhood love, Bard, is one of the opera house’s biggest patrons. Their reunion doesn’t go unnoticed. Sebastian is visited by his angel of music, and he is much more flesh and blood and possessive than Sebastian imagined. Soma is not taking being knocked down a peg well. The audience comes to see him and his darling Agni, not Sebastian. Soma won’t play nice, but what does he do when he’s faced with the man behind the mirror? This opera ghost won’t go without a fight. Bard desperately wants to free Sebastian, yet Sebastian doesn’t want to be freed. Angst, smut, dark elements. Sebaciel and Sebard. Background Soma/Agni. (Chapters TBD)

Slice of the Scalpel – Nip/tuck AU. Modern setting. Brothers Sebastian and Claude run a plastic surgery practice. They have very different ideas of beauty, which helps build their clientele. Sebastian prefers to enhance natural beauty and balance what is already there. Claude prefers to alter and exaggerate things beyond clients’ wildest dreams. Receptionist and Sebastian’s boyfriend, Ciel, is eager to start his schooling to be an anesthetist. Angst, drama, smut, humor. (Chapters TBD)

I Like U for Your Brainz – izombie AU. Modern setting. A newly turned zombie, Sebastian, is a medical examiner working under Ciel’s leadership. Together they try to find a cure for zombies as well as solve murder cases with detective William T. Spears. Sebastian had to leave his old life behind him, give up his dream of being a surgeon, his fiancé Bard, even his sister he keeps at a distance. His extremely extroverted roommate, Soma, must work even harder to cheer him up. Sebastian would give anything to be human again or at least to have someone besides his boss to talk to about being a zombie. He couldn’t be the only one out there, right? Turns out there’s someone that’s making more zombies in the hopes of getting rich and another that is plain ignorant to the problem. Angst, humor, smut, gore, happy ending. Past Seb/Bard, Seb/Agni, Ciel/Soma, Seb/Ciel, Seb/Violet, Ciel/Violet, Agni/Soma, Bard/R!Ciel, Bard/Finny (Chapters TBD)

Star Boy – Actor AU. Modern setting. Actors Ciel and Sebastian are the celebrity couple everyone’s talking about. They are known for co-staring in action movies, their chemistry was unmatched even before they started dating. Their latest film calls for more stunts, more explosions and effects, it’s over the top. Like many actors, Ciel has a stunt double, Alois. Sebastian does as well, Claude. Alois loves performing stunts and he gets along well with Ciel. He gets his own limelight doing extreme sports off set. Claude isn’t as happy with the arrangement. Sebastian gets all the fans and praise, yet Claude is the one doing the hard work. Worst of all, Sebastian gets Ciel. Sebastian doesn’t deserve the life he has, Claude is sure of that. Angst, whump, crime, dark fic. (Chapters TBD)

Another Life – Modern setting reincarnation AU. Sebastian works at an antique shop, one day Ciel comes in to shop around, looking for something “old” to gift his cousin for her wedding day. Sebastian knows he’s never seen him in the shop before, yet he seems so familiar. Oddly enough Ciel is drawn back to visit Sebastian week after week, he is compelled to. There’s a tug on the red string of fate and neither can ignore it. (Chapters TBD)

A New Heart for Christmas – Modern setting. Ciel needs a heart transplant. It’s been years and he’s finally next on the list. He’s tired of keeping batteries charged for his artificial heart and worrying about people thinking he’s dead if he passes out and doesn’t have a pulse. The twins decide to do their annual birthday outing early this year, seeing as Ciel might be recovering still on their actual birthday. His new heart comes much sooner than he anticipated and with challenges he never imagined. Whump, sad, somewhat body horror?, angst. (3 chapters)

Nightshift – Modern setting. Five Nights at Freddy’s AU. Sebastian and Ciel have been hired as night security guards to a “new” pizza joint. Sebastian only moved to the town for college, but Ciel had lived there his whole life. He knew the establishment well. How dare they reopen after what they did to him and his family. Ciel searches for answers to what happened. He knows his brother had to be murdered, he wasn’t just abducted. Sebastian helps him investigate as the restaurant comes to life. With so much dark history it’s no wonder something lingers in the background. Time is running out as opening day nears. Horror, no smut, dark themes, happy ending. (6 chapters)

Free Love – Raver AU. Modern setting. Just a big party, not a lot of plot. A bunch of smut and ships. If house music was a fanfic, this is what you’d get. Seb/Ciel(/Bard), Ciel/Alois, Ciel/Soma, Ciel/Finny, Ciel/Violet, Ciel/Snake, Ciel/Sieglinde, Ciel/Agni, Seb/Agni, Seb/Violet, Violet/Alois, Finny/Snake, Lizzie/Sieglinde, Agni/Soma(/Snake), Violet/Snake/Sieglinde (Chapters TBD)

Phantom Occult – Supernatural AU/paranormal investigators, modern setting, on indefinite hiatus. The Phantomhives have been on the road most of their lives, taking out all the nasties that go bump in the night. Vincent and his twin sons have teamed up with a half demon named Sebastian and a witch, Sieglinde. Sebastian has very little memory of his past. He was found by Vincent and Cedric (Undertaker) on one of their hunts. In search of answers, Sebastian is trying to track down his demonic father. Sebastian has proven his loyalty to the Phantomhives time and time again. He will, as Vincent’s last request, ‘look after his boys.’ Following in their father and grandfather’s footsteps the twins take on cases involving the supernatural. Vincent Jr. has his work cut out for him with Ciel’s fragile health and Sebastian’s ever changing and out of control abilities. They may need to seek out a higher being to help them and save the world from damnation. (Chapters TBD)

Phoenix – A/b/o dynamics, FBI agent AU. Modern setting. Partners Ciel and Sebastian are given a case that has similarities to Ciel’s own capture from his childhood. It puts Ciel on edge, but he’s determined to solve it. Sebastian is not the playboy alpha everyone assumes he is, he’s in fact an omega. He’s been having horrible side effects from being on suppressants since his teens. He’s never even had a heat. For his own safety his doctor forces him off suppressants for at least a year. Ciel is hurt and confused to find out his partner for the last ten years lied to him about his dynamic. It’s not long before Sebastian is hit with his first heat. What is Ciel to do? Angst, smut (5 chapters)

Thought Contagion – Cyborg sci-fi AU. Future setting. Sebastian wakes up in the storage section of a lab. Half of his body has been transformed, he’s now a cyborg. He breaks through the facility and finds Ciel in the process of his brain being programed. Sebastian rescues him and they flee the factory. On the outside they discover the horrors of their government and what is being done to the citizens. They befriend rebels and try to take back control. (Chapters TBD)

T’hy’la – Star Trek AU. Future setting. Sci-fi. Captain Ciel Phantomhive and his half Vulcan second-in-command, Sebastian, explore space with their small crew. Slow burn sebaciel. (Chapters TBD)

Aquamarine – Merman Ciel AU. Modern setting. Sebastian whump, Ciel takes care of him. Crime, magic, and smut. (4 chapters)

Voltron:

Atlas Ocean Rescue – Merman Shiro AU. Modern setting. Keith works as a marine life vet at a rehabilitation clinic. He saves merman Shiro and develops a crush on him. Cute friendships, humor, healing, growth, a dash of smut and gore/whump. Slight angst with happy ending. (9 chapters)

Empire – Royalty AU. Set on Altea, not Earth. Shklance with trans Lance and cis Keith. Love triangles, magic, betrayals, war, planets coming together, and a healthy dose of smut. Ends with a wedding. (8 chapters)

Affinity – Modern setting. Shiro hasn’t adjusted well since his new diagnosis, so he joins a support group recommended by his doctor. Keith has been going to group reluctantly for years. His seizures are somewhat under control. He has the company of his service dog, Kosmo, but he’s otherwise alone. Both of their lives are turning out far different than they ever envisioned. Will they give love a chance? Slow burn. Cis Keith. (9 chapters)

The Eighth House – Modern setting. Werewolf Shiro and vampire Keith AU. Shiro is a newly turned werewolf and Keith volunteers to help him. Keith was turned into a vampire in the 80’s. Keith’s best friend, Lance, is also a vampire. They hang out at a supernatural bar that’s run by ex-hunters. Lots of blood and some smut. (8 chapters)

Zombie – Zombie apocalypse AU. Modern setting. After Shiro is labeled as a burden, him and Keith are kicked out from their community. Keith must take care of Shiro and find a new shelter or community for them to join. They find one run by a sadistic creep that was a cult leader pre-apocalypse. It’s not ideal, but where else can they turn? Keith plots to overthrow the tyrant as soon as he can, for everyone’s sake. Angst, whump, gore, smut, dark elements, happy ending. (5 chapters)

As Many Times as It Takes – Canon divergent AU. Keith goes feral and must be confined for everyone’s safety. The team works to find an antidote for Keith. Shiro tries to get his husband to remember their life together as well as remind him how to be human. Hurt/comfort. (3 chapters.)

Euphoria – A/b/o AU. Modern setting. Keith Is a hopeless afab alpha that seems to want the impossible. He’s not attracted to the stereotypical omega and his last relationship with another alpha left him with literal scars. He decides to try out a match service that’s prided itself on hard to match cases. Shiro is tired of being rejected and his body is telling him he desperately needs a mate. It doesn’t matter that he is no longer fertile, his omega body didn’t get the memo. With irregular and intense heats, infertility, being a large omega, and a list of ‘flaws’ a mile long Shiro has been the one unmatched client the service can’t seem to help. Owners Allura and Lance have become family to him and are personally invested in finding a mate for him. Keith and Shiro could be perfect for each other if only they allow themselves to be happy. (6 chapters.)

Club Atlas – Scent club a/b/o AU. Modern setting. A new alpha, Shiro, arrives at a scent club under recommendation by his therapist. Following a serious accident Shiro lost his sense of smell. When it eventually came back everything was overwhelming. He could barely handle his own scent and couldn’t leave his house. His anxiety and trauma have caused his life to spiral out of his control. A scent club is the perfect place to go to for exposure therapy. Omega scents are naturally calming to an alpha, booths are well sealed and private, and clubs take care to thoroughly remove scents of previous clients between rounds. Shiro meets Lance and Keith, two of the omegas that work at the club. They interview him and add him to their client list. Lance is always enthusiastic about his job, he loves it. Keith on the other hand isn’t too fond of the job or being an omega. But there’s something about this client that he likes. Maybe he can make a real difference in someone’s life. Angst, a lot of smut, brief klance. (5 chapters.)

Compliance – Kidnapped AU. Modern setting. Shiro is held captive by his long-lost twin brother Ryou. After going into the adoption system as infants, they were split up. Shiro wasn’t aware he had a twin until he was staring him in the face. Apparently, Ryou had been keeping tabs on him from afar for over a year. He happened to access Shiro’s patient file and felt he could do a better job taking care of Shiro than his current doctors were. Ryou only wants the best for his brother and that means he can’t leave his sight. Still, he does have to work, and being confined he knows Shiro is bound to get lonely. Ryou decides he should get a boyfriend for Shiro, and he found the perfect one. Keith has been recently released from the psych ward. He had no family or friends. He was fired from his job and probably couldn’t even pay for his hospital bill or antidepressants he clearly needed. They could keep each other company. Their living quarters would be cozy, the basement wasn’t tiny by any means…but two people trapped on the same floor, they’d have to share. Ryou wasn’t a monster, the basement was nicer than any apartment that either could afford. The chains were temporary, an exercise of trust if you will. They’ve had yet to earn his. Dark fic OBVIOUSLY (Chapters TBD)

Strength in Gentleness – Shiatsu massage therapist & Reiki master Shiro/autistic Keith. Modern setting. Keith often hangs out at his mom’s work. Recently her and Kolivan’s business has moved location and joined with Allura’s salon. They also hired a new bodyworker that Keith develops a crush on. Fluffy, slice of life, hurt/comfort, humor. Music heavy, I kid you not, every chapter will have a playlist. Lots of cute Krolia and Keith moments. Giving all “The Blades” a happy lifetime. Probably the fluffiest thing I’ll ever write. It won’t be 100% free of trauma, but Shiro has healed and Keith and Krolia have processed their grief. Anxiety and meltdowns can get a bit intense. (Chapters TBD)

The Ring – Boxer Shiro/body worker-therapist Keith. Modern setting. Cute and smutty. Slight whump cause boxing injuries. (Chapters TBD)

Galaxy University – College AU, teacher Shiro/student Keith. Modern setting. Angst. (Chapters TBD)

Vanitas no carte:

I Trust you to Kill Me – Canon divergent AU. Vanitas turns into a vampire. All he knows is his craving for blood has taken over his life. He’s not a curse bearer but he fears he might as well be. Worse yet, he can no longer assist Jeanne, he tries to obtain a solution that works for them both. Noé confesses his feelings and tries to keep Vanitas alive. Angst, whump, smut, romance. Vanoe, possible vanijeanne (Chapters TBD)

[dokk-fukuro]

High Enough [Sigma x f!Reader]

A/N: AFAB reader, SMUT, femdom, alcohol, strangers to lovers, mentioned of female genitals

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

I still don’t understand how it happened that I knew the people who provided me and my girlfriends with a whole week off at an elite casino in the clouds. However, the very fact that I have to hurry to avoid being late makes my heart flutter. There are a lot of different conversations about Sky Casino. Someone says that this is an elite place where you can feel like the king of the whole world, someone says that this place is too hyped to get so much attention on it. But many moneybags with their sugar babies in cocktail mini dresses speak of the establishment almost like Paris. “Visit the Sky Casino and die” is how you can describe the impressions of most of my friends.

I also heard often that no one had ever seen its owner. He is like one of the wonders of the world. Everyone heard about him, but no one had ever seen him. And, perhaps, this interests me much more than playing poker or roulette. I would like to know who he is, to see him live, because if I succeed, I can say for sure that my life hasn’t been lived in vain.

“Girl, allow yourself a little more.” I twirl in front of the mirror, looking at the way I'm wearing a formfitting dress, more suitable for an office worker than for going to a pompous establishment. Mahiru, one of my friends, who persuaded her “daddy” to knock us out to visit the casino among the clouds, approaches me from the back, and only her reflection in the mirror doesn’t allow her to scare me with her sudden presence. “You look like you’re going to work on Saturday. Shake it up!”

Mahiru has always been so easy-going. Ever since high school, when we began to study together, she gave the impression of that very instigator and ringleader who could well shake even the deadest crowd. I haven't seen her since graduating high school, because this lady got herself a job in a modeling agency. However, it would be surprising if this did not happen. Bright and noisy, she could always easily attract attention. In addition, Mahiru was artistic, thus paving her way into the school theater club. Moreover, the lion's share of her success was her appearance. Long, well-groomed hair, expressive eyes against the background of pale skin, plump lips and a pleasant face shape, reminiscent more of a heart.

On her background, I looked a little awkward when we were schoolgirls. For a long time I wore glasses, cut my hair short enough so as not to be complex due to youthful swelling, although I never suffered from excess weight. The work of a gray mouse in an office somewhere in Yokohama was provided to me. But who knew that my passion for baking in high school would end with me now running a chain of franchised cat cafes? Well, I didn't know either.

I glance at my reflection and can't understand why Mahiru doesn't like my appearance. Yes, it's strict in comparison with her, but I'm comfortable. And yet, something haunts, as if an obsessive thought is spinning in the head over and over again: “Look at something else. You're a gray mouse again." Also, my friend looks at me expectantly through the cold surface of the mirror. As if she knows that I will give up anyway. And... I give up.

"Okay, let's see something else together.” I sigh, realizing with a hindsight that I'm not going to a reunion of graduates, and certainly not to business negotiations. In the end, I also need to rest from severity. Mahiru, like a small child, jumps around me and says that at last a bright thought descended on me. Little fool.

It takes almost an eternity as we rummage through her wardrobe to select what suits me and pleases me so much that I don't want to constantly worry about adjusting something in my outfit so that I can just hide myself like in a bag of rice. Our choice falls on a fitted wine-colored satin dress. Open back with radial draping that repeats in the deep neckline. The hem of the dress wraps around the hips so it becomes even awkward. And chains, many chains. They are both part of the decoration on the back and what, in fact, holds the dress in front. Too much open skin, but for some reason I even start to like it. Mahiru literally squeaks in my ear. Restless.

We both agree on the opinion that this is exactly what I need, so it's up to makeup. I don’t know how to make up myself, so I completely trust myself to my friend, who understands this much more than I do. The brushes tickle a lot, I sometimes sneeze from the powder, but Mahiru does her magic on me, and all I can do is sit and endure. She's so funny when she's focused.

I have no idea how much time passes, but in front of me in the mirror reflection is a completely different person. Lipstick in the color of the dress, a languid look due to shadows and eyeliner. I'm a cover girl! I look at Mahiru, who just shrugs her shoulders and doesn't understand my surprise. Yes, what is there not to understand. I have never seen myself from the side of a fatal girl who, without a twinge of conscience, walks through other people's hearts, like on a red carpet. The girlfriend whistles and nods contentedly.

“Your place is on the podium, dear!” My cheeks are covered with a blush that breaks through even a light layer of powder. For some reason, I vividly imagine the picture of me walking down the catwalk at the show, hundreds of eyes are looking at me, and I twist my leg. Both funny and embarrassing at the same time, but I pull myself together and hold back the rolling laughter.

We fly to the Sky Casino by private helicopter. I still marvel at Mahiru's good fortune without a drop of envy. We are flying with a couple of our former classmates. Hanako flew in from Germany to take a break from her work. “Being a CEO in the beauty industry is terribly exhausting.” Most of my friends have connected their lives with the beauty, modeling or design industry. And only I was more mundane, having only a few cafes in my chain. But I can say that I am completely satisfied with my life.

At the landing site, we are met by guards with serious faces, all in black. With these, try not to feel like a person with VIP status. We are told that it is strictly forbidden to bring weapons and prohibited substances into the territory of the casino, so we are examined thoroughly. This is a common thing for establishments of this type, at least it seems to me, so I have no extra questions. At the reception, we are greeted by a rather pleasant-looking girl in a formal suit, who, smiling, hands us cards.

“It's a master key,” she explains, displaying instructions on a screen behind her. The girls and I are closely watching what is happening on the screen. But the men who arrived with us are obviously not the first time in this institution, therefore they do not show any interest. “This key allows you to open the room located on the floor above. Also, this key is a card with which you can pay for drinks in our bar or order food. The key cannot be presented as a bet in games, unwinnable money is not charged to it. Also, the money that you replenish the key balance cannot be cashed out. The basic rules of our casino: do not disturb other guests. It is also forbidden to flirt with employees, you can not stick to the girls of the staff. You can leave the casino at any time.”

We are given quite unusual Hanko seal pads, they shimmer strangely and have a completely unusual bright blue color. For a while I doubt that everything is in perfect order, but I agree. The whole company puts our seals on the keys, and they seem to become one with the surface of the plastic.

“Mahiru-san, Yamada-san, you and your friends are coming with me. Your escorts will be escorted by security. We'll show you your rooms,” the receptionist bows and leads us forward to a large glass staircase leading up to the floor above.

In the casino itself, a genuine atmosphere of excitement and desire to be a winner hovers. The Great Hall combines a turbulent mixture of modernity and what is now easy to point the finger at and say that this is the last century. Slot machines, roulette tables, poker and blackjack tables and much more. But that's not what draws my eye.

A young man with long hair dyed white and lilac. He is absolutely calm, as if the owner of this establishment, walks along the slender rows with tables, nods to the employees behind them and moves on. His white clothes with a black, sparkling lining of the “tails” of his jacket stand out against the general background, as if on purpose. It can be said that the young man does not walk, but hovering between the tables. It takes me a moment to realize that Hanako, walking with us, is waving her hand in front of my face.

"Earth summons Yamada! Yama, what are you up to?” I shake my head and look away at exactly the same moment that stranger turns to us standing on the stairs. And it seems that he is looking at me, I can almost feel his eyes! It becomes terribly awkward, but I quickly pull myself together and answer:

“It's all right, I'm just... just amazed by the scale of the entire casino,” I say the first thing that comes to mind, but I myself can’t get that stranger in the bright one out of my head. It's too catchy.

Having reached the rooms, we are shown them from the inside. I rarely stayed in hotels, so it's hard for me to compare with something specific, but the scale of the room... it's impressive, as is the huge panoramic window from which you can see very tiny Yokohama and clouds, clouds. It's fresh inside and warm enough to complain about the cold. Most likely the ventilation and cooling works. A huge bed in the center next to the window, a wardrobe, a mini-bar in the room with glasses and an entrance to the bathroom. Everything is thought over to trifles.

We are told that the seals that we put on the keys secure the numbers for us without the possibility of opening the door in any other way. We are also told that there are also double rooms, in case we want to stay alone with our friends or relatives. “The seal of Hanko disappears from the key as soon as you leave the casino and hand it over to me. Have fun," is the last thing I hear before the girl leaves us.

To be honest, I had no plans to play in principle. I was offered to unwind in a special way, and I was not particularly against it, although I don’t understand anything at all about it. I even play poker badly. Oh, Mahiru...

And here I am, sitting with people at one of the free poker tables, keeping my cards with me and once again missing the bet. Next to me is a glass with a cocktail, but I myself don’t understand at all what to do, I feel as if a huge piece of my life has gone nowhere. As if gambling is the missing link that was missing to say: “I tried almost everything.” My real “almost” is not even half of my friends life.

"Is everything okay?” The same young man whom I saw earlier sits down next to us for a free chair. Straight profile, pale skin and unusual lavender-colored eyes. It even seems to me that there is so much warmth and care in them, as no other person will have. I again feel my cheeks begin to tingle. The blood rushes, apparently.

I honestly confessed to him that I had never gambled, so I can not fully understand what's what. The young man nods understandingly to me, offers to give up positions in the game and follow him. And so I do, trusting him entirely. All the staff looks at him with respect and nods, but I still don’t get what’s going on. We walk in silence to my room, although I stagger slightly. This is far from the first cocktail that I have drunk.

Already in my room, the principle of playing poker is explained to me, although I cannot concentrate my attention on it at all. I keep looking at the attractive features of the young man next to me, and a crazy thought shoots in my temple: “Sit on his lap.” And the devil pulls me to obey.

By the way, I'm wondering who you are? I mutter, not immediately realizing that I'm doing it out loud, but instead of embarrassment, I just giggle. The young man in white gulps nervously and looks at me sitting on his lap. “You are obviously an interesting person, since the staff looks at you with such respect.”

Silence comes in response to my words. It's amazing that after drinking so many cocktails I'm still able to speak. Hopefully, when we get back, I will have at least some memories of today. He looks at me with confusion and some embarrassment. Finally, the stranger gives in, and I take control of myself, quickly apologize for the unambiguous posture, and sit back down.

“I’m the owner of this casino. Sigma.” I kind of started to sober up. So, without any hesitation, I sat on the lap of the owner of the casino! What a shame! His head starts to hurt, which draws Sigma's attention. He speaks quickly into the phone he has pulled out of his trouser pockets, and a moment later, a girl is standing in front of us with a pack of aspirin and alcohol. “Take an aspirin before you go to bed, and now you better drink to keep the same level of alcohol in the body. Trust me I can drink with you.”

The casino owner is right. After a short period of time, the pain disappears, but intoxication increases. Sigma gets to the same condition as me pretty quickly. He shares secrets with me, says that it is terribly difficult to manage a casino, and in order to do it at a height, sometimes he has to not sleep at all, studying the personal affairs of all the guests. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed.

We chat about everything for a while, although I think that some topics make him uncomfortable, and therefore I do my best not to touch on them in the future. So I told him that I owned a small chain of cafes that were more a franchise than entirely mine, and that in my early twenties I did not have a permanent relationship, seasoning it with jokes that I would never say out loud when sober. Jokes about loneliness, about a lot of free space on the bed. And behind all this, I lose sight of the moment when we both sit close to each other so that the tips of our noses are touching.

Fraction of a second. Strike me down if I'm lying, and much more time passes before I again sit on Sigma’s lap and kiss him on the lips. It's very difficult to resist the temptation, so I don't try, feeling slightly cool hands on my bare back. I snuggle up tighter, digging my fingers through the two-tone hair, which is so silky and so soft to the touch.

The kiss is greedy, like we're both so hungry for someone else's touch, although Sigma shivers a little. From excitement? May be. But he still tries to take the initiative in the kiss, stroking my back, but chastely does not go lower. The touches are almost weightless, very hard to feel, and this is the reason why I get terribly ticklish.

But the head, like a bullet, breaks through with lightning speed the question: “What are we doing?” He is the owner of a casino, and I am a person who came to relax and experience the vanity of vanities. I should not continue what is happening here and now. I gently move away from his lips, breathing heavily, but I do not take my eyes off his. The young man is a bit puzzled, looks at me blankly and also breathes heavily. Sigma's eyes are completely lost, he clearly does not understand what is happening and why I stopped, the question is almost hanging in the air, but I hasten to voice the answer to it before the casino owner says a word:

"I'm not sure what we're doing," I hesitate, feeling his fingers lazily twirl through the chains on my dress. Not trying to dissemble and escape thereby. I'm not really sure that sitting on Sigma's lap and kissing him while leaving light cherry lipstick marks on him is a good idea in itself. I will soon be forgotten, but what if one of the staff finds him in not the best shape? Will there be rumors that the owner and direct employer were seduced by one of the guests?

My words seem to only confuse him more. The young man tilts his head slightly to the side, his cool hand touching my face. Fingertips caress my cheek and gently caress. My heart is pounding in my chest like crazy, and something gloomy in my mind wants to break out. The sudden urge to pull Sigma under me, to see his confused expression and hear him whine and moan under me breaks through the ceiling. God, where do these thoughts come from?

“We can stop at any moment and pretend that nothing happened,” the young man suggests huskily, but for some reason his version doesn’t please me at all. Gulping down the rest of the drink in my glass, I muster up the courage to pull him by the tie to me and kiss him on the lips. It is worth seizing the moment while I am here, above the city in a heavenly fortress-casino, sitting on the lap of an attractive young man who is the owner of the establishment.

Sigma seems to be plucking up his courage as well, his touch feeling more confident, and I'll be damned if I say I don't feel anything. The only moment when I manage to step back a little to bring my breathing back to normal just a little, it treacherously gets stuck in my throat. The palms of the owner of the Sky Casino are felt on the hips, they are trying to pry off the hem of my dress in order to move it up. It seems to be nothing unusual, but it’s as if current discharges pass through my body. However, the young man, instead of pulling up my dress with his hands, wanders over my body with them, touches my chest, reminding me that it is not covered by a bra.

Kisses fall on my neck; I tremble violently and during this time I let out the first quiet moan. The skin on my neck is quite delicate, because other people's touches are felt sharper at times. Sigma's hands rest on my ass and squeeze hard. No, this is not going to work, I need to urgently take the initiative.

I grab onto the knot of his tie and pull it down as far as the fancy vest will allow. I undo a couple of buttons on his shirt. Pulling back a little, I manage to unbutton two of waistcoat buttons. Now, nothing will stop me from pulling off the tie, but first ... my lips touches to the open areas of the neck, which aren’t covered by the high collar of the turtleneck, for some unknown reason, worn under the shirt. My ears pick up the noisy exhalation as Sigma's hands begin to roam my body again, as if searching for the zipper of my dress. The waistcoat flies somewhere towards the edge of the bed, but the same does not happen with the tie that dangles around his neck, fully untied. Oh no, I still need it. Reaching for it, I pull it off and apply it with a wider part to the young man's eyes. He chuckles in puzzlement.

“What is it for?” He seems to be a little stressed by this, but I intercept the hand that is trying to pull off the makeshift blindfold and point it at my chest, which Sigma grabs and squeezes. I can feel his flat palm touching my nip. I'm finishing tying the knot.

“It’s more interesting that way,” I explain, and I smile quite a bit. Now that Sigma can't navigate visually, the focus will be on sounds, smells, and touch. It suits me, so I deftly rid him of his shirt, pull off his turtleneck, and milky skin appears to my eyes. Despite all his visual subtlety, the young man hardly fits the description of a thin person. Yes, he looks neat, like any average office employee, but it even suits him. For some reason, it's hard for me to imagine him more pumped up. I wander with my hands along his naked torso, kiss his neck and sink lower, grabbing the skin on crook of the neck with my teeth. The owner of the Heavenly Casino shudders, however, even having the opportunity to pull his tie off his eyes, he does not. Apparently, he got a taste for it.

When it comes to his trousers, I can hear the zipper on the dress softly zipping behind me and sliding down. It looks like the young man found the clasp by touch. I disentangle myself from the dress, and at that very moment Sigma's hands and lips are attached to my almost naked body. He greedily kisses my shoulders, noisily sniffs the scent of skin mixed with alcohol, and moans as my crotch, covered with lace, presses against the eloquent bulge on his trousers.

"You smell great," he breathes into my collarbone, and I'm willing to swear he's not the only one almost going crazy with the sensations. When I push Sigma on the bed, I move a little, sitting on his groin. His cock is twitching in his pants, it's not that hard to catch. Hand movements are uncertain. The young man does not see me, but he feels very well, so his hands roam up my hips, slide along my waist and find my breasts. Sigma caresses my nipples with his fingers, twists and squeezes a little, and in spite of him I fidget on his dick, feeling how his hands weaken and do not obey at all, so I fall exhausted on the snow-white bed. I fall to his lips, kiss him, putting all my growing desire in my chest. It swells, presses on the lungs, preventing normal breathing. I go down with kisses, almost bite into the collarbone, listening to the muffled groans. The owner of the Heavenly Casino is breathing heavily and often, biting his lips, and I don’t even touch his cock with my palm. It's okay, we'll fix it. Moans are like music. I wonder if he had a girlfriend before me, or is he like that in life? However, such questions are a little irrelevant.

I take off his pants, which I did not originally plan. Sigma wants to be teased, pushed to the limit and... not given what he wants. Well, I'll have the opportunity. Under the fabric of the underpants is quite impressive size. I swallow nervously, realizing that this is our first and last time together. It's even sad. But, pushing not rosy thoughts, I touch a hard dick through the underwear. The young man bites his lip and goes into a big shiver. I continue to caress through his underpants, watching the bead of precum forming on them. No, that's not enough for me. I want to see it.

“Are you ready, m, Sigma? We can stop and pretend that nothing happened.” it probably sounds like a mockery, and he regards it as such. However, he can be understood: it is very difficult not to take these words as a mockery. A girl turned you on, kissed you as if she was hungry for caresses and touches, and now she is offering to stop! That's why a halfhearted request to continue sounds so sweet. However... "What are you saying? Repeat for me.”

What a bitch I am. But I really want him to say it louder, to groan if he needs to. In general, what is happening:

“Please don't stop.”

This is more than enough for me to continue. Pulling off Sigma's underpants, I swallow viscous saliva. His dick is large, wide, veins appear on it. The tip is reddish and oozes like precum, which pools in a small puddle next to the protruding pelvic bone. It doesn't fit in my tiny palm a bit, but that doesn't bother me too much. Sigma whimpers under me, trying to push his hips into my palm, but it doesn't work very well. And I like this reaction to caresses. I'm ready to watch it for as long as I want.

My hand movements are speeding up and slowing down, and the young man feels like an electric shock from this. I caress the bridle and the tip with the pad of my thumb, rubbing the precum over it, which does not get smaller. It serves as a good lubricant. The Heavenly Casino owner groans but does nothing to stop his voluptuous torture.

“Tell me, what do you want most right now?” I purr as I continue to caress his cock with my hand and stop whenever I feel it swell in my palm. Moans of disappointment escape Sigma's lips at such moments. No, I haven't played with him yet.

“I can't. Please let me cum,” he whines when I remove my hand completely. Sigma is almost ready to burst into tears. This is how his voice sounds. Plaintively, begging for more. Well, who am I to say no to such a confusing but beautiful request? Taking off my soaked underwear as soon as possible, I impale myself on the heated flesh, exhaling noisily in unison with the groan of a young man.

I move on it quite briskly and sharply, raising myself above him as much as I can, in order to feel his dick completely inside again. The young man's now weakened hands cling to my waist, helping me up and down. The room fills with our rhythmic moans and wet skin to skin sounds.

When I lean over him to kiss him on the lips, we switch places, which couldn’t be foreseen. Sigma pull the tie off his eyes and grabs me under my knees and presses them to my chest, now blatantly thrusting into my body as I let out loud moans that bordered on a scream.

He freezes with a loud moan on his lips, entering me at the very base of the dick. He looks deeply into my eyes and breathes heavily, and under me the sheets become wet. It doesn't bother me that Sigma cums inside. Pulling out of me, he collapses exhausted next to me and breathes heavily.

“I hope you visit me here more often,” I hear and laugh at it. I'd like to, to be honest.

[dailyanarchistposts]

B.7.1 But do classes actually exist?

So do classes actually exist, or are anarchists making them up? The fact that we even need to consider this question points to the pervasive propaganda efforts by the ruling class to suppress class consciousness, which will be discussed further on. First, however, let’s examine some statistics, taking the USA as an example. We have done so because the state has the reputation of being a land of opportunity and capitalism. Moreover, class is seldom talked about there (although its business class is very class conscious). Moreover, when countries have followed the US model of freer capitalism (for example, the UK), a similar explosion of inequality develops along side increased poverty rates and concentration of wealth into fewer and fewer hands.

There are two ways of looking into class, by income and by wealth. Of the two, the distribution of wealth is the most important to understanding the class structure as this represents your assets, what you own rather than what you earn in a year. Given that wealth is the source of income, this represents the impact and power of private property and the class system it represents. After all, while all employed workers have an income (i.e. a wage), their actual wealth usually amounts to their personal items and their house (if they are lucky). As such, their wealth generates little or no income, unlike the owners of resources like companies, land and patents. Unsurprisingly, wealth insulates its holders from personal economic crises, like unemployment and sickness, as well as gives its holders social and political power. It, and its perks, can also be passed down the generations. Equally unsurprisingly, the distribution of wealth is much more unequal than the distribution of income.

At the start of the 1990s, the share of total US income was as follows: one third went to the top 10% of the population, the next 30% gets another third and the bottom 60% gets the last third. Dividing the wealth into thirds, we find that the top 1% owns a third, the next 9% owns a third, and bottom 90% owns the rest. [David Schweickart, After Capitalism, p. 92] Over the 1990s, the inequalities in US society have continued to increase. In 1980, the richest fifth of Americans had incomes about ten times those of the poorest fifth. A decade later, they has twelve times. By 2001, they had incomes over fourteen times greater. [Doug Henwood, After the New Economy, p. 79] Looking at the figures for private family wealth, we find that in 1976 the wealthiest one percent of Americans owned 19% of it, the next 9% owned 30% and the bottom 90% of the population owned 51%. By 1995 the top 1% owned 40%, more than owned by the bottom 92% of the US population combined — the next 9% had 31% while the bottom 90% had only 29% of total (see Edward N. Wolff, Top Heavy: A Study of Increasing Inequality in America for details).

So in terms of wealth ownership, we see a system in which a very small minority own the means of life. In 1992 the richest 1% of households — about 2 million adults — owned 39% of the stock owned by individuals. The top 10%, owned over 81%. In other words, the bottom 90% of the population had a smaller share (23%) of investable capital of all kinds than the richest 1/2% (29%). Stock ownership was even more densely concentrated, with the richest 5% holding 95% of all shares. [Doug Henwood, Wall Street: Class racket] Three years later, “the richest 1% of households … owned 42% of the stock owned by individuals, and 56% of the bonds … the top 10% together owned nearly 90% of both.” Given that around 50% of all corporate stock is owned by households, this means that 1% of the population “owns a quarter of the productive capital and future profits of corporate America; the top 10% nearly half.” [Doug Henwood, Wall Street, pp. 66–7] Unsurprisingly, the Congressional Budget Office estimates that more than half of corporate profits ultimately accrue to the wealthiest 1 percent of taxpayers, while only about 8 percent go to the bottom 60 percent.

Henwood summarises the situation by noting that “the richest tenth of the population has a bit over three-quarters of all the wealth in this society, and the bottom half has almost none — but it has lots of debt.” Most middle-income people have most of their (limited) wealth in their homes and if we look at non-residential wealth we find a “very, very concentrated” situation. The “bottom half of the population claimed about 20% of all income in 2001 — but only 2% of non-residential wealth. The richest 5% of the population claimed about 23% of income, a bit more than the entire bottom half. But it owned almost two-thirds — 65% — of the wealth.” [After the New Economy, p. 122]

In terms of income, the period since 1970 has also been marked by increasing inequalities and concentration:

“According to estimates by the economists Thomas Piketty and Emmanuel Saez — confirmed by data from the Congressional Budget Office — between 1973 and 2000 the average real income of the bottom 90 percent of American taxpayers actually fell by 7 percent. Meanwhile, the income of the top 1 percent rose by 148 percent, the income of the top 0.1 percent rose by 343 percent and the income of the top 0.01 percent rose 599 percent.” [Paul Krugman, “The Death of Horatio Alger”, The Nation, January 5, 2004]

Doug Henwood provides some more details on income [Op. Cit., p. 90]:

Changes in income, 1977–1999 real income growth 1977–99

Share of total income

1977

1999

Change

poorest 20%

-9%

5.7%

4.2%

-1.5%

second 20%

+1

11.5

9.7

-1.8

middle 20%

+8

16.4

14.7

-1.7

fourth 20%

+14

22.8

21.3

-1.5

top 20%

+43

44.2

50.4

+6.2

top 1%

+115

7.3

12.9

+5.6

By far the biggest gainers from the wealth concentration since the 1980s have been the super-rich. The closer you get to the top, the bigger the gains. In other words, it is not simply that the top 20 percent of families have had bigger percentage gains than the rest. Rather, the top 5 percent have done better than the next 15, the top 1 percent better than the next 4 per cent, and so on.

As such, if someone argues that while the share of national income going to the top 10 percent of earners has increased that it does not matter because anyone with an income over $81,000 is in that top 10 percent they are missing the point. The lower end of the top ten per cent were not the big winners over the last 30 years. Most of the gains in the share in that top ten percent went to the top 1 percent (who earn at least $230,000). Of these gains, 60 percent went to the top 0.1 percent (who earn more than $790,000). And of these gains, almost half went to the top 0.01 percent (a mere 13,000 people who had an income of at least $3.6 million and an average income of $17 million). [Paul Krugman, “For Richer”, New York Times, 20/10/02]

All this proves that classes do in fact exist, with wealth and power concentrating at the top of society, in the hands of the few.

To put this inequality of income into some perspective, the average full-time Wal-Mart employee was paid only about $17,000 a year in 2004. Benefits are few, with less than half the company’s workers covered by its health care plan. In the same year Wal-Mart’s chief executive, Scott Lee Jr., was paid $17.5 million. In other words, every two weeks he was paid about as much as his average employee would earn after a lifetime working for him.

Since the 1970s, most Americans have had only modest salary increases (if that). The average annual salary in America, expressed in 1998 dollars (i.e., adjusted for inflation) went from $32,522 in 1970 to $35,864 in 1999. That is a mere 10 percent increase over nearly 30 years. Over the same period, however, according to Fortune magazine, the average real annual compensation of the top 100 C.E.O.‘s went from $1.3 million — 39 times the pay of an average worker — to $37.5 million, more than 1,000 times the pay of ordinary workers.

Yet even here, we are likely to miss the real picture. The average salary is misleading as this does not reflect the distribution of wealth. For example, in the UK in the early 1990s, two-thirds of workers earned the average wage or below and only a third above. To talk about the “average” income, therefore, is to disguise remarkable variation. In the US, adjusting for inflation, average family income — total income divided by the number of families — grew 28% between 1979 and 1997. The median family income — the income of a family in the middle (i.e. the income where half of families earn more and half less) grew by only 10%. The median is a better indicator of how typical American families are doing as the distribution of income is so top heavy in the USA (i.e. the average income is considerably higher than the median). It should also be noted that the incomes of the bottom fifth of families actually fell slightly. In other words, the benefits of economic growth over nearly two decades have not trickled down to ordinary families. Median family income has risen only about 0.5% per year. Even worse, “just about all of that increase was due to wives working longer hours, with little or no gain in real wages.” [Paul Krugman, “For Richer”, Op. Cit.]

So if America does have higher average or per capita income than other advanced countries, it is simply because the rich are richer. This means that a high average income level can be misleading if a large amount of national income is concentrated in relatively few hands. This means that large numbers of Americans are worse off economically than their counterparts in other advanced countries. Thus Europeans have, in general, shorter working weeks and longer holidays than Americans. They may have a lower average income than the United States but they do not have the same inequalities. This means that the median European family has a standard of living roughly comparable with that of the median U.S. family — wages may even be higher.

As Doug Henwood notes, ”[i]nternational measures put the United States in a disgraceful light… The soundbite version of the LIS [Luxembourg Income Study] data is this: for a country th[at] rich, [it] ha[s] a lot of poor people.” Henwood looked at both relative and absolute measures of income and poverty using the cross-border comparisons of income distribution provided by the LIS and discovered that ”[f]or a country that thinks itself universally middle class [i.e. middle income], the United States has the second-smallest middle class of the nineteen countries for which good LIS data exists.” Only Russia, a country in near-total collapse was worse (40.9% of the population were middle income compared to 46.2% in the USA. Households were classed as poor if their incomes were under 50 percent of the national medium; near-poor, between 50 and 62.5 percent; middle, between 62.5 and 150 percent; and well-to-do, over 150 percent. The USA rates for poor (19.1%), near-poor (8.1%) and middle (46.2%) were worse than European countries like Germany (11.1%, 6.5% and 64%), France (13%, 7.2% and 60.4%) and Belgium (5.5%, 8.0% and 72.4%) as well as Canada (11.6%, 8.2% and 60%) and Australia (14.8%, 10% and 52.5%).

The reasons for this? Henwood states that the “reasons are clear — weak unions and a weak welfare state. The social-democratic states — the ones that interfere most with market incomes — have the largest [middles classes]. The US poverty rate is nearly twice the average of the other eighteen.” Needless to say, “middle class” as defined by income is a very blunt term (as Henwood states). It says nothing about property ownership or social power, for example, but income is often taken in the capitalist press as the defining aspect of “class” and so is useful to analyse in order to refute the claims that the free-market promotes general well-being (i.e. a larger “middle class”). That the most free-market nation has the worse poverty rates and the smallest “middle class” indicates well the anarchist claim that capitalism, left to its own devices, will benefit the strong (the ruling class) over the weak (the working class) via “free exchanges” on the “free” market (as we argue in section C.7, only during periods of full employment — and/or wide scale working class solidarity and militancy — does the balance of forces change in favour of working class people. Little wonder, then, that periods of full employment also see falling inequality — see James K. Galbraith’s Created Unequal for more details on the correlation of unemployment and inequality).

Of course, it could be objected that this relative measure of poverty and income ignores the fact that US incomes are among the highest in the world, meaning that the US poor may be pretty well off by foreign standards. Henwood refutes this claim, noting that “even on absolute measures, the US performance is embarrassing. LIS researcher Lane Kenworthy estimated poverty rates for fifteen countries using the US poverty line as the benchmark… Though the United States has the highest average income, it’s far from having the lowest poverty rate.” Only Italy, Britain and Australia had higher levels of absolute poverty (and Australia exceeded the US value by 0.2%, 11.9% compared to 11.7%). Thus, in both absolute and relative terms, the USA compares badly with European countries. [Doug Henwood, “Booming, Borrowing, and Consuming: The US Economy in 1999”, pp.120–33, Monthly Review, vol. 51, no. 3, pp. 129–31]

In summary, therefore, taking the USA as being the most capitalist nation in the developed world, we discover a class system in which a very small minority own the bulk of the means of life and get most of the income. Compared to other Western countries, the class inequalities are greater and the society is more polarised. Moreover, over the last 20–30 years those inequalities have increased spectacularly. The ruling elite have become richer and wealth has flooded upwards rather than trickled down.

The cause of the increase in wealth and income polarisation is not hard to find. It is due to the increased economic and political power of the capitalist class and the weakened position of working class people. As anarchists have long argued, any “free contract” between the powerful and the powerless will benefit the former far more than the latter. This means that if the working class’s economic and social power is weakened then we will be in a bad position to retain a given share of the wealth we produce but is owned by our bosses and accumulates in the hands of the few.

Unsurprisingly, therefore, there has been an increase in the share of total income going to capital (i.e., interest, dividends, and rent) and a decrease in the amount going to labour (wages, salaries, and benefits). Moreover, an increasing part of the share to labour is accruing to high-level management (in electronics, for example, top executives used to paid themselves 42 times the average worker in 1991, a mere 5 years later it was 220 times as much).

Since the start of the 1980s, unemployment and globalisation has weakened the economic and social power of the working class. Due to the decline in the unions and general labour militancy, wages at the bottom have stagnated (real pay for most US workers is lower in 2005 than it was in 1973!). This, combined with “trickle-down” economic policies of tax cuts for the wealthy, tax raises for the working classes, the maintaining of a “natural” law of unemployment (which weakens unions and workers power) and cutbacks in social programs, has seriously eroded living standards for all but the upper strata — a process that is clearly leading toward social breakdown, with effects that will be discussed later (see section D.9).

Little wonder Proudhon argued that the law of supply and demand was a “deceitful law … suitable only for assuring the victory of the strong over the weak, of those who own property over those who own nothing.” [quoted by Alan Ritter, The Political Thought of Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, p. 121]