#love lies bleeding ticket

[intraosseous]

retired phone case mementos

[sleepy-stitches]

great news everyone i think i might be the only person in this cinema

[softgrungeprophet]

i need a million dollars just so i can go to the movie theater more than once or twice a year, there's so much out this year i wanna see... on a big screen and not "i'll watch that later on my laptop" which i never do

[rasairui]

I have two dates this week!!!

[jymwahuwu]

Content warnings: yandere, angst(?), some descriptions of capitalism, you're locked up

Summary: You are a bakery owner and you and your shop are going to be evicted by the IPC. Unfortunately, Aventurine is the one handling the plans.

Note: I suddenly want to write this very much...sorry, I don't know what I am writing...🥹

According to the calendar of your home planet, you spent all your savings and bought a bakery three years ago.

Once upon a time, you had your own ideals, which were woven into unrealistic dreams in your childhood paintings. When you become an adult, you realize that adults use lies to pile up in school and blow up beautiful bubbles. Those lies are probably the beginning of your idealized misfortune. Your dream goes from unrealistic to another. Under consumerism, you want a property of your own, with one room, a large living room, an open kitchen, and a ceiling where you can sleep while looking at the stars. Approximately 8,000,000 credits. You deposit money into the Cosmic Bank. Staring at the rising numbers in the bank account with tired eyes, health has been replaced by some slowly rising numbers and countless nights.

Then, you collapse. Your ideal transforms into a spaceship for 1,200,000 credits. However, classmates and friends of Universe University in the same year shared on social media that they had gotten married step by step, had children, and had a lovely next generation from the artificial womb. The venue for their proposal was on a romantic planet with endless sea, sky and seagulls. A growing sense of comparison creates unnecessary suffering. Others tell you, go ahead, just like others, work, save money, buy a house, buy a car, get married, have children, bring new blessings to the universe, and believe in an Aeon you like.

Best is Qlipoth. They said. Everyone said so.

That's the Aeon that IPC fervently believes in. They may not necessarily know about the walls and protections made by Qlipoth, but people must know that IPC is a huge company involved in the economy of the entire universe. Their golden bodies symbolize enviable wealth in people's eyes.

But spacecraft are out of reach. You figured this out through a cheap and unpalatable 10-credit lunch and a scolding from your boss. You know you should set a more realistic goal.

Then let’s get a car with 30,000 credits. There are also jewelry for 50,000 credits. I'll go shopping after get off work. you said so.

You walked into the store and bought a car that met your expectations despite the salesperson's inner eye rolls and eager sales. Stroking its shell, eager joy surges into your heart, as if your hard work has been transformed into a visible reward. This is valuable. And jewelry, you buy a necklace that sparkles around your neck.

Your face was hot with excitement. There is value in this, keep it to yourself and it will appreciate in value!

Trembling with excitement, there is endless emptiness behind the joyful smile. Cosmic Express is responsible for delivering express delivery to your home. You browse the Internet and buy a list of unnecessary things to fill your misery and pain and stop the bleeding that might come out.

Then one day you quit your job after another scolding, knowing that you are just a cog in the functioning of society. You don't want to live like this anymore, but you don't know how to live without money and without getting married like others. You buy a spaceship ticket and wander off randomly. Romantic, casual and comfortable life. You think idealistically again to cheer yourself up. No matter where you go, you have to start a new life.

You arrive on a new planet, a beautiful and highly developed space society. The dome has a transparent dome woven from Qlipoth that envelopes the entire planet. You have heard that IPC has its headquarters here, but some say it is just one of its branches. Regardless, they obsessively imitated the architecture of Aeon Qlipoth, constructing a towering building with a beautiful transparent glass dome. It is stationed on the planet like a banyan tree, tirelessly absorbing money and energy.

You bought a small, independent bakery on one of the shopping streets, renovated it and prepared it for opening and used up almost all the credit in your bank account. But, you are happy, from the bottom of your heart, practicing your baking recipes and thinking about a bright future. On opening day, you put up a sign with a design on it. And greets all guests warmly. They smell the aroma of bread, follow the traces and step into your store, buying this and that bread and drinks. The aroma of food, warm bread, that is the breath of life.

-

One month after opening, Aventurine stepped into your bakery. When socializing at work, he accompanied his clients to drink and enjoy haute cuisine, with a charming smile. During lunch, he would choose a coffee shop or an elegant restaurant to sit and browse the stock market and invest. Those tens of millions of money came and went, only in exchange for a smile or a sip of coffee from him. Wonderful afternoon. Beautiful gamble. But that day, he smelled a different aroma of bread, and realized that a new store had opened in the commercial street.

He walked into the store and browsed the golden bread. Aventurine spent 2 minutes choosing toast and croissants, listening to the sound of money arriving on his phone. He glanced at you, who was in uniform and busy. It was inevitable that he thought from a professional and utilitarian perspective, wondering how this narrow store did not meet the requirements of modern business. Decoration, bread production, marketing, and store staffing. It would be foolish to hire just one clerk. Hiring just one more clerk can lead to more revenue. You obviously have your hands full.

He spent 2 minutes in line. When it was Aventurine's turn to pay, you gave him a warm smile, as warm as sunshine. These days, you remember some familiar faces of your customers. You're a little surprised by the new-faced customers arriving at the store.

You greet him and ask if he wants a takeout or just enjoy it in the store.

"Right here, thank you." Aventurine replied.

So Aventurine sat down, right in the bakery. He munched his bread and invested his money, living his daily life. Day after day, weeks and months passed. Occasionally, he pays attention to you. You always do all the work in the store, packing the bread, putting it on the shelves, and doing the cashiering. So one day, He asked out of curiosity. “Isn’t the bakery owner going to hire an extra employee?”

You opened your eyes wide and smiled awkwardly. "I-I'm the owner of this bakery."

Ah, so here's the answer. Aventurine nodded, you may not have more funds, but he accidentally started to invest and play, just like the play he had not completed in childhood. He loved investing, which was like finding a pearl in the ocean, playing Monopoly, playing with his assets. A desire arose spontaneously, satisfying his heart. "Have you considered expanding the store and staff? I see your bakery is very popular. I've witnessed many, but none like this, and swear there's some potential here."

"Really?" You were a little shy in the compliment. He was surprised at your naivety. "Thank you, but I have no plans yet."

"Oh, you're eating Brioche today." You looked down at the bread he selected. "You are a familiar face. Let me give you a discount. It only costs 200 credits."

Aventurine was about to refuse, but heard your question. "If you don't mind, could you tell me what you do for a living?"

He didn't understand the specific reason. Aventurine didn't want to reveal his work in front of you, so he muttered vaguely. "I'm in the gambling business."

"You mean the casino?" You blinked.

"Yeah, yes," he replied.

"That must be hard…" You recalled the casino in the drama, where the gamblers seemed likely to fight. He must have been mediating frequently there. After thinking about it, you gave him extra drinks and bread. “Here’s today’s special offer!”

Aventurine held the drink at a loss, feeling that the cold drink was radiating heat.

-

On a rainy and windy afternoon, Aventurine won't sit at your outdoor table. He returned to the IPC with the bread and pressed the button for the lift. One of the members of Ten Stonehearts saw him and asked caringly. "I can't see you eating in the office lately. Can you be full just by eating bread?"

"It's okay. I fill up easily." He smiled politely, even though he had eaten some more bread… He didn't refuse your offer.

He finished chewing the bread while scrolling through your bakery’s social media feeds on his phone. You like to update the bakery's social media and have accumulated about a few hundred likes per post. In the photo, you shared a new type of bread, and your passion for life is reflected in your eyebrows and eyes.

The department meeting is just after lunch. The holographic screen fluttered IPC's business plans and developments. IPC announced that one of its small plans was to acquire a new commercial street and all the businesses would have to move out. His eyes reflected the glowing words- your bakery is on that commercial street.

-

Gradually, that friendly customer who works at the casino becomes too busy to visit your bakery, or he finds a new restaurant. There's something empty inside you, like a piece is missing.

New signs were posted in the neighborhood, and other store owners who often borrowed flour and other supplies from each other knocked on your door and told you that the Interastral Peace Corporation was buying the street and that every store was going to be evicted. This will be the place where a new type of space commercial city will be built. Many companies will settle in and open stores. It will be beautiful and modern, just like other space commercial cities. You'd better discuss a compensation plan with IPC now and strive for better terms.

IPC may compromise, but with other economic systems of the entire planet, not with a small commercial street. They do what they say they will do.

Like a bolt from the blue, you repeatedly confirmed and asked questions. Why does it have to be here? Why? What are their plans? How much will the compensation be? The IPC wants the compensation to be as small as possible, and the shop owners will fight for it, but the court is on their side. So don’t be too tough in your attitude, be more diplomatic, be more worldly, and seek more benefits for you. they said.

Many shop owners have signed up for the compensation plan. You are one of the few shop owners who are too stubborn to embrace the world. Guard this shop like a dragon guarding the last treasure. As the deadline gets closer, you notice more rude customers, the ingredient supplier says they can no longer serve you, and some negative messages and reviews appear to smear you. There are also people in all-black uniforms looking outside your store. That's downright creepy.

But you are not afraid, what you are afraid of is that something will be taken away from you again. Those capitalists are used to taking something from you and then giving you something in compensation. Before it was salary, now it's compensation plans.

Occasionally, you bow to reality and pay attention to some new stores, but those prices cannot be bought with compensation.

One night, before you close the shop, you hear the sound of construction work, destroying the original shops. It's not loud and noisy, it's a new space construction technology, but you're terrified and just want to pack up and go home. You have filed a complaint with the court. Once again, you place your hopes on the ethereal, and then you see a figure appear at the window of the bakery.

Ah, it's that customer. He must be here to support you and buy bread.

You maintained your smile and greeted him, "I haven't seen you recently. Where have you been?"

Aventurine just stared. There was some compassion in his expression, and his features were soft. He knew that the gentlest of measures would not work. “…let me talk to you about the new compensation plan.”

You were stunned for a while. "…What do you mean?"

He hands you a card with neatly printed handwriting and the IPC logo.

“Aventurine, Senior Manager in the IPC Strategic Investment Department”

You held the card and read it for a while before looking up at him. Your throat was dry but tears were streaming down your face. The holographic screen projects a new plan, specially prepared for you stubborn, idealistic people, to provide better compensation.

"…Go away, I don't want to see you!" You paused for half a minute before getting angry and pushing him out of the store. What flows inside is anger at the betrayal, even though you know he doesn't have to support you. Aventurine's arms opened up to embrace you. You were shocked, struggling, and sobbing. "I don't want to see you…you are with them…I have nothing, and you still want to take it away…"

Halted like an emotional kitten, you whimpered, tired from sobbing, sleep overtook you and darkness enveloped you.

You opened your eyes and found yourself in a luxurious room, with stars visible on the ceiling and a soft quilt covering you. Pillow supports your head. You adjusted to the light for a few seconds, frowned, and moved your hands, but the sound of the chain sounded. You looked at the chains on your hands, stunned, shaking and struggling. "What-what's going on?"

"Ah, you're awake." Aventurine opened the door and came in. He touched your forehead, and you realized that the clothes you were wearing had also been changed. They were a set of pajamas. "What happened?" You shook the chain in your hand in confusion. "Someone attacked us last night?" "Um, it's not like that actually."

Aventurine comforted you and shushed you. "You're locked in. Shhh...shhh, don't scream. I know this may be hard to accept at first, but you'll see the benefits."

He explained, to your expression like a frightened little animal. "…For business purposes, I looked into your background. You've been having a hard time, haven't you? Now you finally have time to relax. This is one of my houses, and it's yours, too."

"I didn't ask you..." Tears welled up in your eyes. Are you going to be locked up? "I know." Aventurine stroked your head gently. "I know, now just relax. I'll take care of the bakery. We'll open a new one somewhere with the ocean, you know, new plans."

You noticed that he used the word "we," which made your heart feel strangely warm. You were speechless, closed your eyes, turned around, a tear flowed down your cheek, and the chain creaked.

This is your new reality, but at least you can rest, right?

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 016: 86 It, Baby

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

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

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

word count: 8.1k words

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

(x)

Chapter 015 recap

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

• • •

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

“Sugarcoated lies unfolded…”

Chapter 016

♡

“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!” Dustin shrieks.

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

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

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

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

…Right?

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

“No!”

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

“No!”

Argyle isn’t having any better of a day.

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

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

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

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

“Eddie!” Chrissy attempts.

“Eddie?!”

“Eddie!”

“EDDIE!” you moan. “Oh, fuck. Eddie…”

“Thought I told you to call me sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You my naughty little secretary?”

“Yes, sir…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shy Girl,” he huffs.

“Eds,” you respond.

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

“Huh?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Henderson.

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

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

“Well…we going out there or not?”

“Hey. Look over there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

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

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

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

“Quite the lunch shift huh?”

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

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

Speaking of which...

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

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

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

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

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

“Must be a natural at taking charge.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a looong story,” you huff.

STRIKE ONE

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

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

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

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

You shoot back up quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You fold your arms irritably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scratches his head.

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

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

“…and then come home to me.”

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

"Okay," you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Baby!" he exclaims.

Stunned, you turn around. "Yes?"

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

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

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

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

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

Like Billy, you immediately go into defensive mode.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

"Sounds like heaven, actually."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

STRIKE TWO

It didn’t stop at the subtle jabs.

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

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

"So what does 86 mean?"

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

"86?" you repeat just to make sure.

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

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

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

"I see..." Kassidy responds.

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

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

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

Oh they were most definitely talking about you.

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

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

𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

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

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

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

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

Classic Billy.

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

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

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

“But I would,” Billy laughs pridefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How can you say that?!” you shout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him.”

“You don’t need him.”

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

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

“With you.”

𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You must be so proud.”

“Very!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Barry. Would you like a dance?”

“Oh, hi! Yes, I’d love one!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… you don’t have gonorrhea?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

“WHO THE FUCK SAID I HAD GONORRHEA?!”

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

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

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

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

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

Your bottom lip quivers profusely as you shake your head.

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

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

STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT.

“God, you need a new car, Munson.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he quips.

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

“Thought you liked bad boys.”

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

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

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

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

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

Your car won’t start.

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

"What happened?!"

"It won't start!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soon Chrissy comes out too.

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

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

“Found the culprit,” Eddie grunts uneasily.

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

Eddie points to your gas tank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓆩♡𓆪

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Eds.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just please, let’s talk it through.”

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

“I’m quitting Hellfire.”

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

[wiinterz]

ain’t no story fit for us | satoru

pairing: satoru x black plus size fem!reader

genre: established relationship, one-shot

warning: fluff(?), heavy angst, character death, blood, injuries, usage of a gun, detailed with the injuries, betrayal, deception of religion

word count: 1.6k

summary: he’s your best friend, your boyfriend, your one and only. there was nothing in the world that could pull you two away.

☏ ᴛᴀʏ’s ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs: old one-shot!

songs: sweet gin by leisure suite. lover, you should’ve come over by jeff buckley.

recs I taglist I help hub I jjk m.list

storm-blue eyes darted around the area, his porcelain hand wrapped around your ebony hand. lips pressing kisses that scattered everywhere on your shoulder as the two of you walked. the sky had been empty, a void that looked exactly like his eyes.

sliver buildings filled the streets as the two of you walked. you kicked the pebbles under your sophisticated boots, ones he bought for you. he was quiet, muted, yet brain full of static like a tv. his arms wrapped around you tightly, his heart pounding.

you had no idea what was wrong with him if anything was wrong with him. he denied it each time you asked but you knew him well. his eyes which were glint in color had been completely distorted.

his pink lips were cracked, eyes glistening from his demons. his mind roared like thunder in the storm while he stayed silent like the eye of the tornado. he held your hand tightly, feeling as if he would lose you.

he was terrified of himself, of what he saw when you weren’t there. when the loneliness crept in, dragging him out of his bed.

he tugged on his midnight purple sweater, his black pants matched with his black sneakers. ones that got dirtied up by the puddles in the streets. the streetlights reflect on your face, your eyes lighten up as cars beep and drive by. you had your earphones in, and you and satoru sharing them.

the sounds of music. something so peaceful yet never helped him.

you held onto him, walking past strangers, some occupied with their phones, maps, or food. you, however, were occupied with figuring out where your train was. going down to the subway, you let go of his hand, handing your ticket. satoru tapped on his thigh, his head hopping to the beat of the music. you looked around the subway, people in different styles and different expressions walked by. some with urgency in their steps while others seemed to have no care in the world.

the white light cast on his skin, he’s looking up, his diamond-cut eyes had been drowned with pearly salts that hit his cheeks. he’s uncommunicative, the cords of the song taking over his consciousness.

you stare at him for a moment, taking in his beauty, one that makes you yearn for him. your heart beat for him, your soul kissed his ever so kindly — yet he was rigid and could never completely comprehend your love.

he’s like a guardian angel, staring up to the gates of heaven, ones that cast him out, like the fallen angel. the palm of his hands scarred from his nails, pushing into his skin, cutting down. causing him to bleed a bit. dark blood dripped on the floor and his shoes. he kept looking up, biting on his bottom lip. yielding to his demons, that greed for his salvation.

you walk up to him, picking his hand up slowly, and opening his palm. he looks at you, gulping. you were his savior, you lit the candlesticks that had been darkened from the touch; his touch.

his mouth parts open, yet nothing escapes. birds stuck in cages, banging to be free. yet, nothing.

you go in your bag, take out a wet wipe, place it on his skin, you rub it softly, muttering sweet words to him. things to remind him, that he’s safe. though he wished he could believe it, however, it felt as if it were lies — he was not safe, not when you weren’t around. yet it was an unforeseen war coming, one you couldn’t save him from that would take satoru to choose a life with you or without you.

licking his lips and rubbing them, he kisses your cheek. on time, the train comes, opening the doors to let people in and out. you guys go on the train, sitting down on the seats. satoru still listened to music while you went through your bag to make sure everything was in there.

once you had everything, you kept your bag close to you. satoru rests his head on your shoulder, wrapping his hands around your arm and closing his eyes. you stay quiet, opening up your book as you read to yourself, becoming engrossed by the story immediately.

the lights flicker above him, pushing past people as shoulders hit each other. he coughs, blood spitting on the ground. his shoes are a mess, dirt covered on it. his beige color shirt matched with the background. people ignored him, yet he stuck out like a sore thumb. he knew it, yet he didn’t care, that was the least of his worries. finding an ivy-green painted wall, he leans on it, covering the side of his stomach. applying pressure on the gash.

groans leave his lips, and his dark brown eyes stay closed. he’s got a horizontal cut on his left eye, a bit of blood spilling out and covering his sclera. his long black hair covers most of his face, and his left hand fully bloody. tears fall to his neck, messing up the collar of his shirt.

he’s a deadman walking and he knows it. different shades of grey sully his soul.

you wrap your fingers around his non-injured hand, kissing his forehead, pushing his white hair back a little. satoru looks at you with a weak smile. he kisses your lips and rubs your cheek.

to satoru, you look like a goddess of purity, if water spilled on your skin, it would make beads that you could hold and make jewelry out of. your hands were warm in contrast to his cold ones. your hands kept him feeling like home was you. and in his mind, if heaven truly existed, you would be the true embodiment of it.

the train goes to a stop, letting you know you reached your destination. satoru stands, holding his hand out for you. you take it and the two of you walk together. once you were out of the train, you guys turned to the right, walking down, you knew you had to walk upstairs to get out of the station. yet in hindsight, the walk to the stairs seemed farther than usual.

satoru kept holding your hand, his other fingers tapping on his thigh to make a beat. it was his way of keeping him calm through the crowded area. a little trick you taught him anytime you got overwhelmed.

pushing up from the wall, he groans a bit and starts to walk. placing his hand on people’s shoulders, some freak out while others give him a  foul look. though he couldn’t care less, he was making it through the crowds, seeing the figure he wanted. his target, his victim, his success.

he smirks, his eyes glimmering with a deception of happiness. he was a false god, and he was content with the title. cause in some cases, he was a god to others, he was that fallen angel, who burnt everything beautiful. he burnt himself in the midst of it all. his eyes widened, when people got in his way, making it harder for him to get ahold of his trophy. yet giving up was far too easy for his liking, he was close to tasting succession.

his chain of hands praying slipped out from under his shirt. dangling down, a bit of blood has splattered on it, rusting the sliver.

once he sees his trophy once again, a smile appears on his face. he walks up only to be pushed right back into the sea of people. yet never giving up, he made his way to his victim. in his mind, it was filled with sickening sentences of death. some saying crush the soul from the outside in. others begging for him to create a massacre that would be a blurry beauty.

yet he stuck to one, his original prophecy plan.

pulling the gun out from his back pocket, he holds it, meters away from his victim’s back.

you accidentally dropped your lipgloss, watching it roll, you sigh and turn around, about to pick it up. your eyes widen seeing a man — the man, holding his gun, pointing it at you.

satoru hears you gasp, making him turn around to see what nightmare you uncovered. in the blink of an eye, the gun’s position moves with you, as you take up your lipgloss and slowly stand straightly. the cold metal moves swiftly, staring deathly at your man.

satoru eyes widen, tears forming immediately to the revealer of his betrayer. “suguru?” his voice soft like a pillow, yet held so much weight, something similar to the weight the gun placed on suguru’s hand. he levels the glock with satoru’s face, tears with the mixture of blood flowing down to his cheek. in the process of his feelings, his finger pushed hard on the trigger, feeling the gun spring a little.

the bullet crackled through the gun, and the shutter of the weapon was loud, making everyone around see the destruction. satoru’s body jumped a bit, his head going forward while the rest of his body fell back. hitting the ground, you scream, immediately going to the ground and holding him like a child.

you look at suguru who stares at satoru. no words needed to be spoken, their eyes did the talking. a silent argument between the two as people ran and became worried about themselves instead of satoru.

satoru’s eyes were full of pain, of genuine hurt. his own best friend, his brother — causing such devastation to fulfill his demon’s needs.

suguru stared at satoru, while you kept coddling satoru, crying for someone to help. your pleas made suguru feel worse than better. and yet, he did nothing but watch you struggle, watch his enemy suffer.

[applejuicefruit]

can you maybe do something about neymar where the reader gets hurt while in the stands due to angry fans either intentionally ( due to most psg fans hating neymar ) or accidentally hurting her after a miss from him? thank you so much, i love your work!

Hiii thank you for requesting this! I changed it a bit I hope you don’t mind it!

neymar jr x reader

Never change

It was PSG match night and, of course, as Neymar’s girlfriend you never missed on of his games. Unfortunately tonight you couldn’t attend because you had a last minute work meeting and you wouldn’t make it in time for the game. Ney already knew it and, even if he was a little bit sad you couldn’t go he knew how much you loved your work so he simply said you that it was okay.

The meeting ended earlier than expected. You would still make it in time for the second half of the match so once you reached the stadium you begged for the ticket lady to give you one ticket, it didn’t matter where you were sat, you just wanted to be there for Neymar.

Surprisingly you got a nice view ticket. Not too high or far from the pitch. You knew Neymar could see you from that distance and you were waiting for his reaction to see you there. But as he noticed you, some fans noticed you too and they weren’t quite happy with you being there, mostly because of Neymar. How he wanted to leave the team years ago and how he wants to leave the team now, PSG fans took it to heart and they were still quite mad with him for this.

You heard some sarcastic comments coming from behind you but you simply ignored them and watched the game. It wasn’t anything new for you, you read and heard bad things on you everyday, simply because you were dating Neymar.

You enjoyed the game and PSG won. You were so happy you couldn’t wait to go home and celebrate with Neymar.

But before you could leave the stadium some crazy fans pushed you and you fell.

“Tell your boyfriend that he sucks” he said and some other men started laughing. Unfortunately for you Neymar was already in the changing room and he couldn’t have seen you.

“He’s useless by the way” someone else said and you got so mad you couldn’t stay there.

“He just made you win” you said back but the fans didn’t like this answer so one of them took you by the arm and threw you on the floor again. This time you hit your head and you felt a little bit dizzy but no one was there to help you, not even security.

“I’m sorry you’re dating someone like him, I’m sure he cheats on you every night with someone prettier” he said and you felt your tears threatening to come out of your eyes “and skinnier” he said again laughing. You couldn’t handle it. You were a very self conscious person and when you started dating Neymar you were terrified he would leave you for someone prettier. He made all of your fears vanish. He told you how much he was in love with you and that he would give up his own career if you asked him too just for you. He was deeply in love with you.

You quickly stood up and left the stadium, ignoring the people calling for you. Your head hurt, your legs were shaking and you were clearly about to have a panic attack.

You arrived home earlier than Neymar and all you wanted to do was crying in his arms but at the same time you didn’t want to worry him so you took a shower and pretended nothing happened. Bad thing was that your head was bleeding, not much, but just to show that it was bruised. You put some paper towel on the back of your head trying to stop the bleeding. You noticed a purple hand print around your arm too and that was kinda hurt to hide.

“Hi babe” you heard Neymar coming behind you. You were so focused on your own thoughts that you didn’t even hear him coming home.

“Heyyy” you said turning to face him and throwing the paper tower away.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he asked immediately as he saw the paper towel covered in blood.

“It’s nothing don’t worry I just fell…” you lied but the knew you better and he knew you were lying.

“Honey don’t lie…what happened?” he said grabbing your hands and his look became more serious when he saw the handprint on your wrist “babe who did this? Were you harassed?” he asked again.

“No…it’s nothing really” you tried to shove it away but he wouldn’t let go.

“What happened? Please y/n tell me…” he almost begged.

You told him everything that happened at the stadium, mentioning him the fans and the bad things they said about him and how you stood up for him.

“I’m gonna kill them!” he shouted making you flinch a bit “Where was the security? Why they didn’t do their job!” he shouted again, taking you on the couch and letting you sit on his lap “I can’t believe people would do something like that! I’m so sorry baby…fuck, I wished I saw it! So I could have stopped them” he said grabbing your wrist hand placing a soft kiss in the bruise. Luckily your head stopped bleeding but still, Neymar wanted to take you to the ER just for precaution. You agreed to go with him and once you were checked the doctor told you that you had a mild concussion and that you had to rest for two weeks, not leaving the house, no work environment and no getting up from your bed.

Neymar said he would take care of you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Once home he helped you getting in bed and cooked you something to eat.

“I’m sorry it happened to you baby” he said once you were both laying in bed, you head on his chest.

“I know…I just wished they appreciate you more…you do everything for this team” you said back making him smile. You yawned a bit, sign that you were tired.

You fell asleep on his chest and he looked at you with adoring eyes “never change babe” he said before turning the lights off.

[dyketennant]

yesterday when i went to go see love lies bleeding with my friend, while we were waiting in line at the ticket booth a (presumably) straight couple ahead of us had asked the employee what it was about, and she said "idk i think it's just a love story about a body builder, i haven't seen it but yeah i'm pretty sure it's just a romance" and that is all i could think about for the entire movie

[ltstrikesback]

TLDR: Monkey Man was so beautiful and so much more than meets the eye.

Spoilers below/me being mildly pretentious:

As someone who has not gone to the movies to see anything other than queer films lately, my girlfriend got us tickets to Monkey Man. She practices jujutsu and likes John Wick and thought this movie would be similar.

I am a huge Dev Patel fan, though, when I saw the trailer before a viewing of Love Lies Bleeding, I figured I might not actually end up seeing it. I didn’t think I was the target audience. I also don’t love action heavy, guns blasting movies in theaters themselves because it’s a bit sensory overload for me. I felt myself make a mental note to watch it on streaming and already forgetting to do so. Flash forward to me and my partner in the theater and I was in awe.

This movie is about a small village who is violently forced off their land so the elite can build a factory. Dev Patel’s character—Kid—is a child the day the village is expelled. He witnesses his mother’s murder and years later seeks revenge on the man who killed her. When he fails to enact his revenge, he finds himself in a city wide man hunt, ending with him falling into a river, drowning. But he is saved! By a small community of hijra—trans women—who live in a temple nearby.

Walking into this movie I didn’t expect social commentary or politics. I anticipated a Rocky type movie, contained to the story of one individual’s hero’s journey. (People keep mentioning John Wick as a comparison. I just mentioned it in this very post but I haven’t actually seen it for the record.) Monkey Man is specifically not about one individual or one individual’s revenge. This was my takeaway. The message we see over and over is that there are things in this life bigger than ourselves. It is literally impossible to save yourself by yourself—you need community.

I’ll take a step back now to acknowledge that I am not sure how familiar everyone is with current politics in India. I myself have limited insight but have friends who are personally affected by the current climate. There is a strong wave towards Hindu nationalism under PM Modi. It’s yet another instance of what feels like the whole world turning to fascism. The movie uses real clips from real instances of social clashes to paint the landscape of this fictional city. Also, I was reading into the backstory and potential censorship of this film and learned the villain’s colors were originally orange, not red. A clear parallel to the current Hindu nationalism at hand. There are clips of crowds attacking trans people. There are boos at the mention of Muslims and Christians. There are scapegoats in this film that are intentionally pulled from real life.

Now to jump back in—I have to say I was completely moved by the entire sequence at the temple. The temple is dedicated to Ardhanarishvara—a god who is part woman and part man. The hijra community has found a home here, albeit on the outskirts of society. The leader tells Kid, “no one will come looking for you here.” Their status in society protects him in a serendipitous way. They are also the ones that nourish him and help him train for his next mission. Not only that, but we see this community smile, laugh, flirt, and fight. I loved the scene with Kid and the drummer, with the girls cat calling him from afar (same). It was so tender to see trans joy, even in mundanity, amidst persecution.

When Kid has self-actualized and essentially is Hanuman, the part monkey God the movie is named after, he takes on the political elites. There is a moment he is surrounded by bodyguards in this hotel sequence. He’s outnumbered and out comes our hijra fam to the rescue. They take down these men. And it is so fucking amazing. I mean, really, it’s so fucking amazing to see them fight for themselves, for each other and be the hero.

To wrap up, I also wanted to touch on the fight sequences’ production. I mentioned I don’t really like fight scenes because I get sensory overload but the music in this film resolved this issue for me. It wasn’t pure screams or gunshots. There was a really fun soundtrack that added a great twist to the film. Kind of reminds me when they break out electric guitars in Chinese historical dramas. Just another thing about this movie that really worked. At least for me personally.

Last thought—my take away is not necessarily to say “put Dev Patel in everything” which is happening in the online discourse. (There’s a weird opposite-of-cancel-culture thing that happens sometimes where audiences obsess and then forget about actors or artists. Idk.) Rather: let this man do whatever he wants. Give him your funding, give him your resources! He should not have to kill himself to tell his stories!

*Sigh* my heart has been so full since watch this. A huge shout out to Dev and his team.

[liesmyth]

brother invited me to go to the cinema because he won free tickets in the work raffle and I was SO excited for a second thinking the tickets might be for love lies bleeding but. it's ghostsbusters

[wuntrum]

pros to seeing it tonight: opening weekend, not doing anything else today, will have more time this weekend to work on other stuff with deadlines

cons: paying full price for a movie ticket instead of matinee prices 😔

[weird-an]

Angel!Argyle dominates Demon!Billy :3

tw: Billy is missing one wing

Billy has been tempting humans for centuries now. To be honest, it's fucking boring. He'll bat his eyelashes, play with a curl of his blond hair and get them to do everything he wants - or rather, has to.

At least he doesn't have to do stupid crossroad deals anymore. These are boring and lonely. Being able to roam San Diego is lovely. Even if it sometimes means sucking it up to businessmen who are so greedy they'd end up in hell either way. To be honest Billy gets them a "skip the line" ticket.

"Thank you," the guy says, after he sealed his fate with a handshake and the nudge he needed to betray his company and leave the country. "You're a real angel."

"I've been called that." Billy grins, showing all his teeth, ignoring the shiver the word sends down his spine. It's not even a lie - thought that had been ages ago and he can't remember heaven, just a fleeting feeling of light and feeling out of place.

He watches the business suit leaving and decides that this is enough work for at least a month. Neil will hate his report either way, so fuck him. Time to get drunk.

"You shouldn't let him call you an angel," a warm voice behind him says.

Billy sighs. Of course, once he decided to carpe the fucking diem, one of heaven's killjoys shows up.

"Why? You're going to tell the big guy upstairs on me?" Billy sticks his tongue out. He has never met this angel. But he knows one when he sees one.

He's pretty. Black hair nearly reaching his hips and a smile so bright it's like Billy can see his halo.

"No," the angel grins. "But I don't like lies."

"Lying comes with the job - and you should mind your own business," Billy sneers. It's exhausting. Hell wants this, heaven wants that and Billy just wants a fucking break.

The angel steps closer. A knowing look on his face - and Billy isn't quite sure, what he knows.

They are in the middle of a bar and no one looks at them. It's disturbing. Billy needs to be looked at or hell will swallow him whole and never spit him out again.

There's an herby smell surrounding the guy, almost like - Billy frowns. There's a joint tugged behind the angel's ear.

"What kind of angel smokes weed?" he blurts out.

"What kind of demon likes to be called angel?" the angel retorts. He puts his hand on Billy's shoulder, thumb stroking the pulse Billy has learned to control after he crashed down to earth - but that now is running wild.

"I don't like it," he says. It sounds meek, even in his own ears. Neil would sent him to the pit for it.

"I don't like lies," the angel repeats, voice still warm and weirdly friendly. "It's not natural for me."

It's not natural for Billy either. It's a second skin that hurts every day, one he needs to survive, one he loathes.

His hand leaves Billy's shoulder, cupping his cheek. A touch that doesn't hurt, a touch that's soaked in mercy and goodness and all the things that aren't for Billy. It burns and Billy wants more.

"Fuck," Billy groans. Shame burns next to longing, for something he can't quite put his finger on. An angel of all possible beings seeing right through him.

"What's your name?"

"Billy," he says. He isn't William, he has never been William, no matter how many times heaven and then later Neil wanted him to be.

"My name is Argyle," the angel says. "Can you try to be good for me?"

Billy wants. It's what sent him away, what made him an outcast even in hell. It's what he has never been allowed to.

"I can't." Argyle's other hand is on his throat, not choking, giving only a slight squeeze. The stars Billy has watched for aeons dance before his eyes. "You know I can't."

He's a demon and even before he wasn't enough. He is all but good.

The bar around them fades and they are in a cabin, hell know where, lush plants, soft pillows and vibrant colors everywhere. It must be Argyle's place. Tension bleeds out of Billy's shoulders.

"I think you can." Argyle's hand stops caressing his cheek and grips Billy's curls. Tugs them, so hard pain starts blooming, but soft enough that it's sweet.

"You're an angel" he says, because there's a heat beginning to boil in his lower belly, searing hot. "You shouldn't..."

"Find joy?" Argyle asks. "Make you feel good?"

His dark eyes finds Billy's. "Can I make you feel good?"

"Yeah," Billy breathes, the first confession he has spoken in years. He needs to be, he wants to be and Argyle is so different - from all the other entities Billy ever met before. He's more human, but that doesn't make him less ethereal.

Argyle's mouth is on his, a kiss first tender, more a question than an answer. Billy can't remember if he ever kissed like this. Their tongues meet, swirling and hungrier the longer the kiss lasts.

Argyle pushes him - slightly. They end up in the midst of a pile of pillows and the world around Billy is a blur of red, blue and green.

Argyle's hands stroke his skin, undressing him, fingers wandering from his chest to his belly and there are tears prickling in Billy's eyes.

"Open up," Argyle whispers and it's the first order, maybe ever, Billy wanted to follow. There's still a voice in his mind, sounding like Neil, that he's listening to one of them, to an angel, but Argyle's lips are on his again and it's just so easy to let go.

He spreads his legs. Argyle rubs a finger against his hole.

"Good," he smiles. He moves and his fingers press into Billy. Two at once, scissoring inside him, rubbing against a spot Billy didn't know was there.

Pleasure is no stranger, but for the first time Billy wants more. He moves his hips forward.

"Behave," Argyle says, slapping his ass. It burns, but in a way that turns the pleasure hotter.

"I'm not a fucking -"

Argyle grabs his chin. "You want to be good, don't you?"

There's this stupid word again, that makes Billy's cock throb.

Argyle's dick brushes against his hole, pulls Billy down to sit on it and Billy keens, dizzy from what's happening and what's about to come.

He breaches him and it's like Billy is on fire, but not the way he's used to. One thrust and he's groaning.

Argyle fucks into him. Clearly not a stranger to pleasure. He's hitting Billy's prostate hard. Billy forgets to breath. He doesn't need it. He only needs the arms around him and that warm smile that is still there.

He's leaking precome, his aching dick trapped between their bellies.

"See? You can be very good, Billy."

Argyle laughs in his ear, a song Billy wants to remember for centuries.

The world blurs and Billy only halfway registers that Argyle's wings spread out, nearly reaching the ceiling. He knows his own is there, too, but he's so high on pleasure, he doesn't care.

Argyle pants, thrusts again and suddenly Billy's vision blanks, all white joy exploding inside him. He comes, whole body trembling and the world around him shaking.

Argyle whispers in his ear, tells him he's doing well, that he's proud and all Billy can do is whine, his skin tingling. Argyle follows shortly after with groan getting tangled with a laugh, the happiest noise Billy ever heard.

Argyle still has his arms around Billy. He strokes his black feathers, carefully.

Billy's heart flutters like his wing can't anymore. He knows what's left is charred and ugly.

"You're beautiful," Argyle whispers - like Billy's wings aren't the proof he isn't. "A real angel."

Billy knows lies, can see them and taste them from miles around - but this isn't one. Tears burn in his eyes. He bites his tongue. This is embarrassing.

Argyle wraps his wings around them. Billy's limbs are tired. Argyle's hand is still buried in his feathers. No one has held him like that. It's calming, it feels safe. He buries his face in the nape of Argyle's neck and pretends he isn't crying.

[whoiwanttoday]

So I pre purchased tickets for Love Lies Bleeding for a few reasons. One, it's getting great reviews and has been since it first screened at SXSW. I already liked the idea of it but knowing it works is hugely exciting. If you don't know, Film Noir is one of my favorite genres and every November my friends and I do Noirvember which started a decade ago with them going, "Film Noir seems cool but I don't know anything about it". Well guys, I did know about it and it was about time to put that education to use so that first year I chose 5 movies that I felt would help demonstrate the characteristics of the genre and wrote essays about each one with what to look for and what identifying tropes of the genre were there. Since then I have put in far less effort but every year we try to grab some movies that are significant for various reasons to the genre. My point is, I love Noir and really appreciate French film critics for inventing it after the fact. So Love Lies Bleeding is not a Noir, it is a Neo-Noir but for obvious reasons it's a genre that always interests me for obvious reasons. It's a Neo-Noir because you can't make film Noir anymore, part of what makes it film noir is when it was made and that no one has ever set out to make a Noir, if you are you're making a Neo-Noir. But I love them, too, especially sun soaked ones. Thirdly, Kristen Stewart. First of all, I think she is a tremendous actress who just does great work and her projects just get more and more interesting. They don't always work but man, I want big swings rather than boring. There are so many safe movies I give higher ratings to than interesting failures but those safe, bland mediocre movies all fade into the background, I still think about the interesting failures. So I love that she tries cool projects and the truth is most of her work. She always works in them. But the thing is, when I heard she was doing this I just knew it was perfect. My favorite Noir figure is probably Humphrey Bogart. That's not an out there selection, the guy was undeniably cool. And I was like, yes, let Kristen Stewart be Humphrey Bogart. I think she could 100% pull off that. I mean, I don't think she is in this movie, she's playing a different kind of a mess than the cool character who keeps getting in over his head but when it comes to vibes of someone who can be my favorite sort of Noir protagonist it's her. Which is a long way of saying I have tickets to go see the movie and resisted posting Kristen yesterday cause my brain was like, "We'll post her after we see the movie". Welp, I didn't make it cause she has been all over the place and looking very good. So I caved and made it exactly one day. Today I want to fuck Kristen Stewart.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Beauty of the End Part One: Nashville Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life, @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @vannabanana1995 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @sxmmarie @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @oureternalbond @rubes2323

It’s the trip to Nashville that does it.

Ever since that night you'd played his song together, you’ve been going places. Riz has always known you would. After your set, you’d been approached by a talent scout for one of the recording studios up in L.A. He’d stayed out the way while the two of you talked.

Since then you’ve been away, travelling around the country and opening for some of the bigger names that belong to the label, preforming small intimate shows of your own. He’s lost track of the cities you’ve been to. He tries to tick them off daily. You keep in contact through Facetime, snatching moments when he’s not on a run and you’re not in the middle of recording, or playing.

Before he knows it, it’s been over a month since he’s physically laid eyes on you, so he decides to book a flight and catch up with you in Nashville. It’s a surprise, you usually leave two tickets at the box office. He knows that EZ and his girl caught up with you in Phoenix, that Creeper and Nina took a couple of days off and made a trip of it in Tuscon. The last time Riz had gotten his hands on you was Vegas, you’d spent the entire night making love in your hotel room before you’d been whisked away on the next leg of the tour.

He misses you fiercely, your absence in his day to day feels acute. He misses sitting on the couch with you and strumming his guitar, hearing you sing along when you manage to guess the song he’s playing. He misses the silly little lyrics you make up when you’re doing something mundane like putting away the groceries or folding the laundry. He misses sharing a joint on his patio, watching the smoke bleed from between your lips before you kiss him.

“I want to come home,” you tell him one night over the phone. “I miss being with you.”

That’s when he decides to hit Nashville. He thinks that his physical presence may alleviate some of the home sickness that you feel and fuck he wants to see you, it’s been too long since he’s held you in his arms.

It isn’t until he gets to the venue that realises how big the event is. It’s supposed to be an intimate show, just you and a small audience but it looks like they’ve had to expand to one of the larger spaces. There’s a crowd waiting to be let in and he’s not talking a few people, he hears someone complaining how tickets have been sold out for months, and they had to pay a fortune just to get these ones in the shitty seats.

It’s in that moment Riz realises the potential of this thing, you’ve only been touring for a couple of months and your fanbase has grown exponentially. There are people actually wearing t shirts with your face on, it’s both moving and fucking weird at the same time. He sits down on the edge of a fountain in the plaza and watches the line snake around the side of the building. He’s so fucking proud of you, you’re doing what you set out to do, you’re achieving your dream, but he knows that’s in flux. You’re emotional and impulsive. He thinks the moment you set eyes on him; you might just blow the whole thing up. Quit the tour and come back to Santo Padre, fall back into a boring life with him. You could have so much more, you deserve so much more, there’s just one thing holding you back.

Him.

He’s the only thing that ties you Santo Padre, this tether that stops you from breaking free and finding your own path amongst the stars. You need to cut your losses, but you won’t do it, you’re too fucking loyal.

So Riz does it for you.

He calls you from an airport hotel room near Nashville International and ends it. It’s the worst thing he has ever fucking had to do. He knows if he says the distance is too much, that you’ll come home in an instant so he lies, he tells you that his feelings aren’t the same, that he’s met someone else. You’re crying by the time he hangs up the phone and it fucking wrecks him. He drinks himself to sleep that night and when he gets back to Santo Pandre, all the other nights that follow.

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