#waiting for more info on the recent changes

[prettyflyshyguy]

New items are up in my shop!

We have SCP Mystery charms, and SCP OHSA & WHS themed sticker sheets!

Get ya goods:

[gootarts]

as of 8/3, the most recently updated version of this post is here (it's a reblog of this exact post with more info added)

as a lot of you know, limbus company recently fired its CG illustrator for being a feminist, at 11 pm, via phone call, after a bunch of misogynists walked into the office earlier that day and demanded she be fired. on top of this, as per korean fans, her firing went against labor laws---in korea, you must have your dismissal in writing.

the korean fandom on twitter is, understandably, going scorched earth on project moon due to this. there's a lot currently going on to protest the decision, so i'm posting a list here of what's going on for those who want to limit their time on elon musk's $44 billion midlife crisis impulse purchase website (if you are on twitter, domuk is a good person to follow, as they translate important updates to english). a lot of the links are in korean, but generally they play nicely with machine translators. this should be current as of 8/2.

Statements condemning the decision have been issued by The Gyeonggi Youth Union and IT Union.

A press conference at the Gyeonggido Assembly will occur on 8/3, with lawmakers of the Gyeonggi province (where Project Moon is based) in attendance. This appears driven by the leader of the Gyeonggi Youth Union.

The vice chairman of the IT union--who has a good amount of experience with labor negotiations like these--has expressed strong support for the artist and is working to get media coverage due to the ongoing feminist witch hunts in the gaming industry. Project Moon isn't union to my knowledge, but he's noted that he's taken on nonunion companies such as Netmarble (largest mobile game dev in South Korea) by getting the issue in front of the National Assembly (Korea's congress).

Articles on the incident published in The Daily Labor News, Korean Daily, multiple articles on Hankyoreh (one of which made it to the print edition), and other news outlets.

Segments about the termination on the MBN 7 o' clock news and MBC's morning news

Comments by Youth Union leaders about looking into a loan made to Project Moon via Devsisters Ventures, a venture capital firm. Tax money from Gyeonggi province was invested in Devsisters in 2017, and in 2021, Devsisters gave money to Project Moon. The Gyeonggi Youth Union is asking why hard-earned tax money was indirectly given to a company who violates ESG (environmental, social and governance) principles.

Almost nonstop signage truck protests outside Project Moon's physical office during business hours until 8/22 or the company makes a statement. This occurs alongside a coordinated hashtag campaign to get the issue trending on Twitter in Korea. The signage campaign was crowd-funded in about 3 hours.

A full boycott of the Limbus Company app, on both mobile and PC (steam) platforms. Overseas fans are highly encouraged to participate, regardless if whether they're F2P or not. Not opening the app at all is arguably the biggest thing any one person can do to protest the decision, as the app logs the number of accounts that log on daily. For a new gacha such as Limbus, a high number of F2P daily active users, but a small number of paying users is often preferable to having a smaller userbase but more paying users. If the company sees the number of daily users remain stable, they will likely decide to wait out any backlash rather than apologize.

Digging up verified reviews from previous employees regarding the company's poor management practices

Due to the firing, the Leviathan artist has posted about poor working conditions when making the story. As per a bilingual speaker, they were working on a storyboard revision, and thought 'if I ran into the street right now and got hit by a car and died, I wouldn't have to keep working.' They contacted Project Moon because they didn't want their work to be like that, and proposed changes to serialization/reduction in amount of work per picture/to build up a buffer of finished images (they did not have any buffer while working on Leviathan to my knowledge). They were shut out, and had to suck it up and accept the situation.

Hamhampangpang has a 'shrine' section of the restaurant for fans to leave fan-created merch and other items. They also allow the fans to take this merch back if they can prove it's theirs. Fans are now doing just that.

To boost all of the above, a large number of Korean fanartists with thousands of followers have deleted their works and/or converted their accounts from fanart accounts to accounts supporting the protests. Many of them are bilingual, and they're where I got the majority of this information.

[note 1: there's a targeted english-language disinformation campaign by the website that started the hate mob. i have read the artist's tweets with machine translation, and they're talked about in the second hankyoreh article linked above: nowhere does she express any transphobic or similarly awful beliefs. likewise, be wary of any claims that she supported anything whose description makes you raise eyebrows--those claims are likely in reference to megalia, a korean feminist movement. for information on that, i'd recommend the NPR/BBC articles below and this google drive link of english-language scholarly papers on them. for the love of god don't get your information about a feminist movement from guys going on witch hunts for feminists.]

[note 2: i've seen a couple people argue that the firing was for the physical safety of the employees, citing the kyoani incident in japan. as per this korean fan, most fans there strongly do not believe this was the case. we have english-translated transcripts of the meeting between the mob and project moon; the threats the mob was making were to......brand project moon as a feminist company online. yes, really. male korean gamers aren't normal about feminism, and there's been an ongoing witch hunt for feminists in the industry since about 2016, something you see noted in both the labor union statements. both NPR and the BBC this phenomenon to gamergate, and i'd say it's a pretty apt comparison.]

let me know if anything needs correction or if anything should be added.

[pomefioredove]

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

[acis-arts]

Hello everyoneee, I got super busy recently, but I was still able to do some art and writing in the meantime! Here's all my Cult Leader Designs as well as mentions of the AUs I have!!

Some of these will probably change over time, if I feel like it. I just wanna info dump on my AUs and I also think it's good to post how they currently look instead of waiting for too long.

Down below is the info dump on my AUs:

(Before you start reading: "Kali" is the name of my Lamb)

Lost Crowns AU (/Forgotten Lands of the Old Faith):

This AU was called "Forgotten Lands of the Old Faith" at first, but I refer to it as "Lost Crowns AU" mostly because that name fits too and is shorter.

This is my main AU! In it, the entire story of the game is pretty much unchanged, this AU focuses more on what happens after the events in the game. I haven't finished the game yet and I'm assuming after getting all Bishops, the game is pretty much done. (update because I wrote these notes some days ago: I got Shamura in my cult today so I finished the main story at last)

"A few days after freeing all the Bishops, Kali wakes up and something is missing. The Red Crown is gone, all Crowns are gone. They run to find Narinder and the Bishops, but none of them are behind it. Together, all 6 of them try to confront the Mystic Seller next, but upon arriving at the gate they were always situated in, they find nothing."

The Mystic Seller left the Lands of the Old Faith for good and took everything supernatural with them. I haven't thought about a solid reason for that yet, because my main idea behind this is that Kali and the others are now forced to live without all their supernatural powers. They can't perform Rituals, they can't resurrect, they can't summon weapons and none of the Follower necklaces work anymore. The only thing that was left is the immortality of Kali, Narinder and the Bishops. They won't age but the risk of dying permanently is there.

I have no idea if I want to keep this idea or if I want to scrap this, but I also thought about Kali finding a gateway into the lands of the Gods and together with Narinder, they try to find the Mystic Seller to get answers. The reason Narinder comes along is because he's more familiar with that place and Kali would need someone like that. The second reason obviously being that I want to pair them up and have them develop their relationship over this adventure (with a proposal at the end of it perhaps). Third reason: it's fun to have the Bishops take care of the Cult without Kali and Narinder around.

I have so much more stuff for this AU, but this is already so much text. Let's hope I get to post more in the future!

Swap AU:

This is pretty self explanatory and the majority of what I posted on here so far. As a short summary: Narinder is now the Last Cat remaining, becoming the Vessel of Kali as The One Who Waits

No Mercy AU:

This is based on the second save file I have in COTL, on which I'm trying to do an "evil route". In this AU, Kali isn't kind and optimistic, instead becoming a callous, cruel cult leader after receiving the Red Crown. Up until that moment, they were at the bottom of the food chain and upon receiving the power of a God, they were finally the one in control for the first time in their life. They decided to never let go of the Crown and their Powers.

Orange Crown AU:

This AU is pretty much just my close circle and me inserted into Cult of the Lamb. So far my partner and me are inserted as NariLamb and my brother is the Mystic Seller because he looks like them. This one is probably uninteresting to most of you, as you don't know any of us. I won't be posting that much about this and keep it private mostly, but maybe some of you are still interested in the art, so let's see.

As always, Thank you so much for reading up until this point!! I hope you all had a good week!

[jinxziie]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Avenue Loft ⋆⭒˚.⋆ wanted to do sumthin a lil different,,,, so i decided why not make a vibeyy asss loft apartmentt! ive never built a loft before and had a hard time w this for some reason but i LOVE the way this came out..so much so that i havent even fully deco'd the inside yet and just wanted the sharee it! i srsly cant wait to do the interior, i hav sm ideas for the vibe in heree! lot is 35x25 i made this build for one household but like my other builds, there's enough space to make more apartments in the other buildings and u can split up the households w the apartment controller mod :D Hope u guys enjoyy her n make her look fabulous! as always, cc list is included in the zip (i recently updated it w the cc i used for this specific build) andd if u do download plss take pics n tag me and use #jinxrenos CUS I WANNA SEEEE !! links & info under the cut! ♡ Creds to the cc creators ♡

sfs / mirror

it was hard takin pics in here! for some reason the ceiling color wasn't showing right on camera BUT i promise it matches perfectly in game

AND i totally forgot to move the hallway arch over for more wallspace for a bed or something n its bothering me but its a little late to fix it saur T.T i changed my terrain paint for my builds, so sorry it doesnt match the other build i uploaded, they r all i nthe cc list though!

the shops are obvi for environment purposes but i do enjoy decorating them and using them for rp & pictures so maybe yall will do the same! ★ My CC List (updated for this build) ★If i missed anything pls lmk n if u hav questions pls askkk!

[missbutterworthless]

[i’m not a violent dog. i don’t know why i bite.]

The lead singer of BOTB’s Season 4 projected underdogs, Arlo Beck of Penny Arcade, declined further comment in regards to the threatening of a member of the media when questioned about former band mate and fellow competitor, Seven Lawless of Soft Violence.

Further Info Under the Cut!

TW for mentions of addiction 🫶

Introducing Arlo Beck, lead singer of Penny Arcade, a pop punk band of humble origins known most for their musically delivered political commentary and their revenge anthems (it is of particular note that such anthems were not common in the Lawless Era, with the band leaning far more heavily into charged love songs. Which could mean nothing.)

Fun Facts!

Beck is an Aquarius!

According to an insider source, beyond singing, Beck is quite capable with the ocarina.

Beck is known to juggle at any and every opportunity, regardless of who may or may not be watching. (He is apparently rather talented as well.)

Beck is known for accessorizing with heart motifs, noted by a previous local publication to be a nod to fellow bandmate Rowan Hart.

Beck often carries a bottle of quick dry black polish for ‘manicure emergencies’. He is known to have addressed such emergencies while on stage after chipping a nail during a performance.

Beck is often cited as the source for Penny Arcade’s ‘gimmick’ of collecting loose change in collection bins during a dedicated song at every performance. The change is then matched and donated to queer and at risk youth. Beck remains firm that every member of Penny Arcade, past and present, is equally responsible.

Picture Easter Eggs and more Fun Facts!

Arlo is wearing a WWOD? bracelet in the pic! The band got together to make bracelets with Orion’s most recent catchphrase while waiting for filming to start. Arlo made his particularly fruity. He also made a keychain version for Orion.

The time on Arlo’s phone is a nod to MCx7. Seven is, well, 7. And Arlo is 1 & 2 because his initials are the first and second letters of the alphabet. Hence, 7:12.

Arlo’s initial tattoo utilizes the S in SD as an infinity symbol. He acknowledges it is cringy. And poetically tragic.

Not shown is his tongue piercing, which Orion chewed him out for getting because his tongue was swollen and his speech slurred for nearly two weeks!

As stated above, he likes to wear motifs of his band members! Because he is a doofus! Most common because it’s his daily accessories is a heart motif for Rowan, but he also has jellyfish pendants and vampire bite chokers for Iris and different color bee pins for Devyn depending on their hair color! Jazzy is represented in the case he carries his juggling equipment in, which he takes literally everywhere after she bought him one for his birthday years ago. He is currently racking his brain for what to do for August!

43 of the 57 missed calls on his phone were from Orion. He knows because Orion’s ringtone is I Don’t Dance from High School Musical 2.

He is heavily addicted to nicotine (to Orion’s chagrin) and became a functioning (for now) alcoholic after The Fight™️. Prior, he imbibed during social functions but never alone and never when he had plans. Up until the audition, he never partook in other substances but caved into peer pressure. Despite his snark and notorius RBF, he is a chronic people pleaser.

The eyebrow slit is a scar from slicing his eyebrow open in Lucy’s diner after crashing head first into the dish station and shattering a plate. With his face. The scar is almost entirely faded but he can no longer grow hair there. He’s actually really insecure about it and has considered getting the spot microbladed.

That’s all for now folks! I mostly wanted to share my art :) I adore @infamous-if and have been playing with Arlo as my MC since Day 1! He finally fully clicked in my head and after days of attempting to find a face claim or craft him in the sims I decided to crack open Ye Olde iPad and do it myself!

Please feel free to share any fun facts about your own Infamous OCs! Regretfully my friends stay firmly opposed to interactive fiction so I am starved for fellow Infamous fans

[thelostpretzel]

wait i actually. need to see more magnolia and the other guy the twink yk who im talking about. please info dump and show pictures. need

all my guys are twinks so i'll just infodump on both magnolia's boys

this

is Magnolia. She's a healer and she likes to look like a marshmallow: soft, cute, sweet and harmless. She is, in fact, is no marshmallow on the inside. She is confident, strong, works hard, takes no shit and will punch people with a knife if needed.

And she loves money. A lot. And herself. Even a lot more.

this

is her demon parasite named Glitches. He is able to control Magnolia's body and in the past used it to kill other players (Magnolia's friends included). He likes to play dirty, lies as he breathes and loves to have power. Glitches used to be in total control over Magnolia but recently things changed and he lost all his power over the body. He is VERY bitter about it and looks for a way to regain control or find another body to posess.

He HATES Midas.

this

is Midas. He is lasy, filthy rich, bored bitch who's got a little bit of a problem with his big sister (Black Silver, mafia boss) and now seeks ways to save his skin and money. Magnolia happened to be not only a good partner to work with, but also a very attractive character. And she's got a very annoying roombodymate which makes this relationship more spicy.

Like Magnolia, Midas loves his money and himself.

[shegatsby]

Okay I just had an amazing idea! Imagine reader as Hannibals patient and both of them meeting in an online portal similar to tattle crime where you can chat privately, they start talki g and develop like a relationship but for the sake of their identities they keep their real names out of the chat when one day the reader texts hannibal that they're at the psychiatrists office with a picture of the floor attatched, Hannibal obviously realizes its the floor of the waiting room, during the session he acts like nothing happened but at the end of their session hannibal adresses the reader by their username. The rest is up to you!

A/N: Hi, thank you for this request I really loved the idea. I changed it a bit because we all know that Hannibal would never leave anything to chance, of course he is gonna stalk you babe ;)

Warnings: Stalking.

Words: 1.442K

It was late in the evening, Baltimore’s  cold weather made you stay under your fuzzy blankets with a hot cup of tea. Your laptop on your lap, you logged onto your account in Tattle Crime. It was a blog about your city’s newest crimes, recently you have been on that blog a lot, there was a serial killer on the loose, people were wither sharing info or commenting about the gruesome  murders. Everyone was talking about the ‘’Chesapeake Ripper’’ you’ve always been interested in serial killer’s mindsets so Tattle Crime was a useful blog on that to feed your curiosity, how you were oblivious to what’s to come…

You read some articles which compares the Chesapeake Ripper to other serial killers and you left a comment under it, saying that comparing is false, because he is something we have never seen before etc. It was your honest opinion, his killings and presentation of the bodies were more meticulously sophisticated. You referred to the killer as ‘’him’’ due to the fact that most serial killers were male.

You opened a new tab and surfed on the internet, you were watching your favorite old Hollywood movie when you had a notification from Tattle Crime. The blog had dm box so that users could communicate which you never used before but someone sent you a text. The user didn’t have their name, their handle was ‘’Botticeli’’ the last name of the famous painter, Sandor Botticelli, your handle was ‘’Hekate’’ the witch goddess. You didn’t like putting your real name out there and appearently so did the person who messaged you.

‘’I am interested in your thoughts regarding the Chesapeake Ripper, I would love to hear more if that is convenient for you.’’

It was strange but you loved to chat about your favorite topics, since you weren’t busy you decided to text back.

‘’Hello, of course. I would love to chat about him, he is such an enigma.’’ You sent and waited, for some reason your hands went cold, you had a strange sensation in your stomach.

You had messaged a stranger online for 4 hours, the conversation was vibrant and it was obvious that the guy you were texting was knowledgeable, you learned that he was a 40 year old man, living in Baltimore, you told him your age, you were at university, you and him respected each others’ private life so not much info were exchanged other than nice conversation about art, literature and murder. Later you said your good nights and you turned off your laptop and went to bed straight, you had morning classes.

It was snowing, you had dark circles under your eyes but you made effort in your appearance, you wore a nice winter dress with long boots, hair tied and a light make up to cover the tiredness. In the mean time Doctor Hannibal Lecter was on his office, getting ready for his patient. He was facing his laptop’s screen, on the screen he had information you, thanks to his work with the FBI he had privileged access to get peoples info. He learned your address, university, your Instagram, everything. He decided to message you again.

You were at the cafeteria, eating and looking at your notes when you got a notification, the stranger you had a nice conversation with last night messaged you again. ‘’I apologies for keeping you up so late last night, I hope you had some sleep, good morning.’’

You couldn’t help but smile, he was formal yet you could sense some kind of kindness and concern.

‘’Hey, no need to apologies. I enjoyed our conversation last night. Morning!’’

For days you messaged back and forth, everyday without being to open, he told you his day, and you told him about your day, over the days you learned his habits, he was an early bird, loved to read and keep his mind busy, he also mentioned the dinner parties he throws every once in a while. You were intrigued, but kept your cool.

After a month you were having mental problems, your assignments were too much and you had some problems from your past, ever since you mentioned your problems he was being more kinder than usual, he was giving you affirmations such as;

‘’You are a smart girl, you can do it.’’

‘’I believe in your abilities.’’

You liked the way he talked to you. Neither of you asked for a phone number or even an email address which felt safe.

One day he suggested that you should see a psychiatrist, since he had access to your university he could see your grades and they were dropping and he didn’t like that. He wanted you to succeed.

He sent you a list of psychiatrists and made some recommendations, you were falling into his trap and he was enjoying it, he wanted to see you and this was the opportunity. You said you would think about it and in order to give you some time he said it was okay.

When you had a melt down while studying you decided to think about Botticelli’s list of psychiatrist and you sent a mail to the Doctor writing that you needed an urgent session, thankfully Doctor Lecter replied quickly, you were too busy to notice how odd it was to reply to you in a minute. He wrote that tomorrow at 6 would be convenient for him, it was convenient for you too because your classes end at 5 pm. Of course he knew that and you would be his last patient of the day.

After your classes you got on the bus and went to the Doctor’s office. You clung to your long coat and walked into the building, the warmth welcomed you, there was a desk but no secretary was in the view, you knocked on the grey door and waited, your heart beating at a rapid speed.

A tall man opened the door, his three piece suit made him look intimidating, he was standing proud and tall.

‘’Miss Y/L/N I presume?’’ he questioned, his maroon eyes scanning you, he was really good at hiding his excitement, there you were, the woman he had been messaging over a month was standing right before him. ‘’Dr. Lecter, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’’ You extended your hand and he gladly took it, he noticed how soft your hands were, there was a certain feeling in his chest, ‘’Please come in.’’

His office was grand, the fire place was lit which gave the room a cozy feeling and yet it resembled the museum, formal. You sat on the leather armchair and he sat opposite with his leather notebook and silver pen. He started the conversation, as he was speaking he made notes of her manners and behavior, you had a simple jeans and a black top, even though your outfit was normal Hannibal found you elegant like a swan.

During your session you had a feeling as if you have met him before, he was kind but his voice and his demeanor made you think before you speak, thankfully he made you comfortable by talking art and literature, his replies sounded familiar, you thought as if you were talking to your new online friend.

‘’Dr. Lecter, I must say I’m here because one of my friends recommended you to me.’’ You confessed, ‘’Oh, did your friend ever came to me before for a session?’’ he asked looking curious as if he wasn’t about to reveal himself to you.

‘’No, I mean I’m not sure, he is an online friend so..’’ you replied shortly, looking around.

‘’Oh really, Hekate?’’

You froze, did he just addressed you by your username on Tattle Crime?

‘’I-I’m sorry..?’’ you stuttered, you must have heard it wrong.

He placed the notebook and pen on the nearby table and stood up, fixing his clothes he came up to you, you had to look up, he extended his hand to you, ‘’Botticelli,’’ he said, ‘’Nice to finally meet you in person, I must say, I didn’t expect such a beauty, your intellect matches your divine face.’’

Your first reaction was to get up and run to the door, it was locked.

You turned to face him, his hands in his pockets, he was smiling ear to ear, ‘’You wound me Hekate, I thought you liked me.’’ he started to walk to you, your back pressed to the locked door, he stood before you, one of his hands found your heated cheek, with the back of his hand he caressed it gently, ‘’Do not be afraid, all I want is for you to be mine.’’

[aces-and-angels]

IMPORTANT UPDATE FROM SHAHED:

Note : this post is a repost of @appsa update on Shahed's campaign with updated infos on the current amount of raised funds.

I am so grateful to everyone who shared and donated, i really do count it as a miracle that we were able to reach the goal at all, never mind that it happened within the deadline we set. Your support has felt like a blessing in a truly wretched time, especially after all those baseless accusations were made.

Unfortunately, as is the norm with these fundraisers, it seems that shahed has run into some problems with the bank while withdrawing the funds she raised from this campaign. Apart from the unexpected $3.5k cut gfm took from the total amount, it seems the american bank her campaign manager using to send the money will also take a tax of $2k.

This has left her short of $5,500 from getting the full amount she needs to evacuate her whole family.

And it seems because the amount the campaign initially raised is so large, the campaign manager cannot afford to officially increase the target on the gofundme campaign page itself without putting himself at risk of having his bank account and its funds frozen.

As you may know already, there are lots of roadblocks when it comes to transferring funds from western countries to countries of the global south but especially gaza right now. People having their accounts frozen for sending money to gaza and having to go through legal hassles for it is not anything new.

Shahed doesn't want to put the campaign manager, who is their family friend, at risk of legal troubles like that, especially given the hostile political climate towards palestinians in the USA right now.

So i want to make this clear:

Shahed is currently unable to increase the target on the fundraiser on the gofundme itself, but she still needs to raise another 5.5k to cover the tax cuts taken by both gfm and the banks.

The goal on the fundraiser may say $80,000 is the target but the new one we have to aim for is actually $85,500 now

She is currently at $81,525 / $85,500

Believe me when i say that no one is more disheartened by this development than shahed herself. The morning we had reached the goal of $80,000 she told me that she felt she was the happiest girl in the world, and had bought and distributed sweets to the kids at the camp she was at to celebrate despite how expensive it is in Gaza right now.

She had also begun plans to help boost other fundraisers of palestinians, so that no one would have to feel the hopelessness she felt during those months where her fundraiser had been stagnant and had already gotten started on that barely a day or two after she'd completed her campaign.

Shahed was very nervous to tell me about this, especially after this whole racist hate campaign that was led against her so recently. She does not want her and her family to be accused of lying about their torment a second time. Especially when the violence has begun to ramp up once again even after her recent displacement, she can't bear it. Frankly neither can i.

Please know that she would not increase amount again unless times were desperate.

Please do NOT punish her during this difficult time by ignoring this. We have seen time and time again how gfms from gazans have to increase their goals even after they have been reached because of various issues, so this is not unprecedented. I've said it before- the goalposts will always be changing because they are going through a genocide.

So i urge you to please be kind and show her your solidarity and urgency once again, because the deadline is still the same. The raffle still hasnt ended so please check out the link above, and partcipate.

PLEASE HELP HER REACH $85.5K WITHIN THIS WEEK. THIS CAN'T WAIT.

current total: $81,530 USD

[ficandkaboodle]

Vaginismus: Terzo x Fem!Reader

A/N: Stg if I ever see this purple fucking freak darken the doorway of my mind, I'm going for his kneecaps. He will never be able to slut about on the floor again, and then what will he do? Thanks, y'all, for being so patient as I almost daily had a meltdown over the structure of this. And HUGE thanks once again to @angellayercake for being my ever-patient beta with amazing input and ideas!! I hope I did our bastard boy some kind of service.

Word Count: 8.8K. Sorry, this bad boy is a hydra: For every sentence I deleted, more words would come in its place

CW: Reader has a vagina, hurtful comments from past relationships, reader's mental state is kinda fucked at a few points, hints at extremely uncomfortable interactions to "make the relationship work". Sooo...Vaginismus and its delightful conditions, I suppose. Oh, and a hint of Google Translate Italian. I'm sorry, I tried referencing @/foxybouquet's ever so helpful guide the best I could but alas, I am still a moron. MDNI

Papa III was a notorious flirt, even by the standards of the sexually liberated Church of Satan.

Everybody knew this, from the Clergy to Sister Imperator to the ghouls to his many, many lovers. And yet, when his sights finally fell upon you, everyone knew: Something in him had changed. At the very least, his methods sure had.

Secondo raised a brow when he first saw his brother lightly jogging up to you in the hallways, panting for you to wait up. Primo sported a knowing smirk when he watched the normally suave man sheepishly inquire about the meaning behind certain flower arrangements. Quite the departure from his usual bouquet of red and white roses, the older man couldn't help but note.

A startled Copia quickly became suspicious when the brother that tended to tease him the most came to his office one day, armed with top-shelf juice boxes and nutty chocolate bars – just the starting price for whatever info he was willing to give his dear old fratello about his new favorite Sorella.

The ghouls had a field day whenever they came upon the old man either sulking or even swooning over how a recent interaction had gone. One even swore they had scrounged through his wastepaper basket (don't ask, it’s not worth it) and found crumpled up drafts of sonnets. Sonnets!

It was the Siblings, however, who seemed to take the most notice of his antics. And, unfortunately, the most offense.

Certainly, plenty of the congregation had received a bouquet or two from their beloved Papa Terzo. Many had been wined and dined, and some were even whisked away for a night of passion and excitement in a glamorous metropolitan hub. Terzo had gotten around, and he would probably continue to get around until he either died mid-orgy or until his dick fell off. (And even if the latter did happen, it probably wouldn’t slow him down. Not until his fingers and tongue followed suit, anyway.)

It was cyclical: You would be an interest for a week or two before your time would be up, and you would part ways as he turned his attention to another, leaving you with memories of a whirlwind dalliance to reminisce about for years to come.

This was simply something that was understood and accepted without much of any animosity amongst Siblings. This was just how things were. Or at least up until now.

They must have noticed there was something about the way Terzo pursued you. For starters, nobody could ever recall a time when the man actually needed to really pursue anyone, let alone to the extent and care he currently displayed.

They could tell when a peer was actively trying to heighten the tension, turning their back to him but still glancing over their shoulder to shoot a heated stare. An invitation for him to keep it coming. Really putting the “play” in “playing hard to get”. But generally speaking, most of what Terzo needed to do was snap his fingers and whichever Sibling or ghoul he had his eye on would eagerly crawl into his lap and then into his bed.

Maybe they saw a shine in his eyes that wasn't there when they had him. Or maybe they thought he leaned just the slightest fraction of an inch closer to you than he ever did with anyone else. Or maybe they swore his voice sounded different when he spoke with you. Lighter, but not out of an upturn in pitch to sound friendlier. It was more like it carried less weight. Almost as though he felt less burdened by some unspoken thing. Some thing he never cared to share with them.

Granted, you didn't help matters by actually enjoying the odd conversation or two (or over a dozen) with Terzo. (And by "odd", this meant the animated discussions that borderlined two-person seminars on subjects like the Hays Code, or how viewing certain films through a gendered or queer lens could enhance the suggestion of the story.)

And anyone who spotted you alone on the quad sharing a snack would've been convinced you were on an impromptu picnic, rather than the fact Terzo had found you and offered you pickings from his secret snack pocket.

Sure, it was just a sandwich baggy of cheese doodles, but the point still stood: You had Terzo's full attention, his intrigue, his consideration, his snacks, and you hadn't done a damn thing to deserve them! Any interaction between the both of you, every awkward joke, every instance of eye contact, every exchange of a genuine honest to Satan smile, had the Siblings of the abbey biting and clawing at the walls in envy.

You did your best to appear unaffected by it, preferring to keep your head down and say as little as possible when around them. Nothing to suggest you felt superior to them (not that you did anyhow). Regardless, you were fairly certain that, if it were up to them, they would bring back human sacrifice for the sole purpose of getting you out of the picture.

Thank Satanas, then, that none were present to witness the latest event.

There Terzo stood, his normally focused and powerful gaze fighting hard to be maintained. It was abundantly clear that he wanted to look anywhere but at you. Still, he resolved to keep that nervous on his face. His gorgeous, paintless face.

It was startling to say the least. Actually, no, scratch that: To truly say the least would be to just stand there, gaping like a goldfish as you failed to find the right words – any words – that truly encapsulated even a fraction of what you felt. Which, for better or for worse, was exactly what you found yourself doing.

After all, almost nobody outside of his own family had seen Terzo without his papal paints. They may as well have been tattooed on him the moment he’d perfected the design all those years ago! Not even the paramours he’d collected since then had gotten a glimpse of his bare face, despite the many opportunities they’d had from the nights spent in his quarters. The mystery as to why this was left plenty of room for speculation and imagination, creating a juicy mystique that Siblings and ghouls loved to salivate and chew on.

Admittedly, you yourself occasionally wondered what his deal was, but you ultimately chose not to ponder on it. If Terzo liked how he looked in makeup more than he did without, then that was his business. Honestly, it never even really occurred to you to ask him about it even as the two of you grew closer.

But as you took in the visage before you, you felt you had a good theory going: If Terzo went about the Ministry like this, he’d never know a moment’s peace again!

"Is . . . Is it . . . okay?" he asked quietly. Okay? Okay!? Satan’s taint, if it weren’t for the very apparent tension, you might’ve thought the man was teasing you! The man looked like an old movie star, all debonair and dashing!

The fight to respond in a timely (and coherent) manner was difficult, but you managed to stammer out, “More than okay.” You gulped down some shakiness. “Y-you’re very . . .handsome.”

Internally, you cringed at how wobbly you’d come across but thankfully that seemed to be enough. The warmth in your cheeks intensified as the nerves in his smile carefully evaporated, along with a slight tension in his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the consciousness did not remain, and almost immediately you found yourself delegating focus to other things. Like the beauty mark that lay just beneath the right corner of his pleasantly pink lips. Lips that were saying, “— if you would be interested, of course.”

You blinked. Were you interested? Wait . . . Interested in what, exactly?!

“Y-yeah, sure. I’m down,” you chirped before you could stop yourself.

While you tried your damndest not to look mortified or embarrassed, Terzo looked delighted. Possibly even elated.

“Oh, eccellente!” he clapped his palms together before offering you a mix of a nod and bow. That sharp characteristic of his eyes returned once more, pinning your form as he purred, “I look forward to it.”

Oh, fuck. “Can’t wait!” you replied. Of course, now the concept of urgency settled in.

As you walked back to your room for the night, you knew three things to be certain: The first was that that face of Terzo’s would likely be making many appearances in your dreams tonight. The second thing, branching off this, him showing you his face was a sign you’d let things get far too far.

And the third thing? You had to put an end to your exchanges ASAP.

Sure, you’d peppered this into your thoughts many times before, but after this? This moment of extreme vulnerability on Terzo’s part? No more peppering: It was time to actually pile in everything you had and outright reject Terzo’s advances. No room for stuttering or bending or swaying or swooning and second-guessing!

You repeated this like a mantra over and over, praying that the resolution would still be there in the morning. And it was – but only after you took an icy shower. You’d been spot on when you anticipated that gorgeous, gorgeous face invading your dreams. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was the nature of what all went on:

Snowflakes catching on his lashes as you ice skated on a pond (the power of dreams erasing his waking world clumsiness); his lips smiling around a forkful of the pasta you’d just cooked together; his broad nose nuzzling lovingly into your hair during a quiet night in; those entrancing eyes focused on the movie playing before you as his arm settled warmly around you. It gave you further comfort as you pressed into his side, so perfectly slotted that it was as though you only ever belonged there, right next to him.

You regretted disregarding the alarm bells that blared at the start of this whole nonsense, and now look where that got you: You needed a cold cleanse just because you saw a man’s unpainted face! You were worse than a pent-up Victorian! Did you really want to prolong things until you’d start to "feel" those smirking lips pressed against the column of your neck, or “feel” those large hands skirt along your form, leaving a deliciously pleasant fire in their wake?

Certainly, that might’ve made for a good night’s sleep in theory. But in reality? It was a nightmare in the making!

It was bad enough just wanting to do all those dreamy things and more with the equally dreamy Papa. But that, of course, meant the "more" part would eventually come around. After all, your waking life already wasn't too terribly far off from the things that went on in the dream.

Your days weren't filled with skating on the pond or chatting over romantic dinners but at this rate, they very well could be a possibility. In an ideal world, the wait for these things to happen would be filled with anticipation. But the sad, shower-cold reality was that this wait was weighed down by dread and predictions of what was to come. After all, for all Terzo's patience and kindness, even he had limits. Sometime soon, his patience with your inexactness would run out and he would come to collect. Experience told you that was just how it was.

You may not have had a pursuer as passionate as Terzo, but you’d had enough instances that ran about the same: There was that high, that thrill in an almost honeymoon period-like chase. Then there came the actual vulnerability where you’d tell them of the conditions that came with a relationship – the conditions that came with you. And yeah, they’d start off insisting that nothing about that changed how they felt about you . . .  But then they’d realize your condition would outlast their gimmick.

You felt your face twist with displeasure as sentences of the past began slipping through the cracks and into the forefront of your mind.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Calm down already.”

“Just relax already.”

Then came the pain (both kinds); the giving up; and then you were right back where you started: Alone together, with a body that hated you that you hated right back. The only real difference would be how much your weariness increased, making you more and more reluctant to play along with the idea of any potential romance. Meanwhile, to them, it was a game: You were just playing hard to get, that was all. But you’d surely stop when they and they alone were able to conquer you, to cure you.

Did you really want to wait around and see Terzo become like that?

Your stomach twisted at the thought.

No. Absolutely not. You weren’t sure your heart could bear it, much less your body. Besides, if word got out that he’d shown you his face, then it’d be all over for you. You’d rather incur the wrath of rejecting what many would kill for than face what might happen if they learned how far you’d gotten by doing nothing at all. At least with the former, there was a chance the Siblings let you keep your bones intact.

You had a plan as you prepared yourself to step out and face the day: Keep calm and function as normal until the chance to say those simple words hit you: “Terzo, I am not interested in you in any way, shape, or form. While you are attractive, I am not attracted to you. Please leave me alone from now on.”

A devastating lie, perhaps, but a necessary one. One you would need to deliver by tonight.

But hey, the day was still quite young. There was plenty of time for you to find the courage, right?

. . . Well, you didn’t find it in the hallway when you heard that oh-so familiar, cheerful call of, "Buongiorno, Mia Sorellina !", prompting you to pick up speed and disappear down a different corridor. Nor was it there when you caught sight of a black flutter of robe. It could’ve been a wandering Cardinal’s cassock but you weren’t prepared to stick around and find out.

And even though you spent nearly the entirety of afternoon mass, head bowed, praying for the Dark One to simply grab the strength and shove it into you, you didn’t feel any more emboldened. Apparently, your body meant it when it didn’t allow for anything to enter it – intangible things included, it seemed.

You groaned inwardly from both disappointment and discomfort as you lifted yourself off the kneeler and back into the pew. There was also the added stressor of feeling sets of multiple eyes on you: From Siblings stewing in envy; from ghouls who wanted to take a gander at the Sister who had flirty Papa III wrapped around her finger; and, worst of all, from Terzo himself.

The one time you dared to look up at his seated form on the altar, you caught a hint of a small smile directed at you.

You tried to return it, at least enough to suggest to him you were fine and happy to see him despite your earlier actions, but the sorry attempt lost any pretense of pleasantness when your eyes got caught on something: Even in the sea of his dark robes, you could make out the dull shine of leather gloves poised in his lap. Helping them to stand out more, however, was how each fingertip was adorned with a golden nail.

Correction: A golden claw. The fine barbs would fit right in on the hand of a ghoul or perhaps some other dæmonic creature.

Normally you were fascinated by the accessories but in your increasingly unwell state, these gloves intimidated you. It was like you had been reduced to a fearful prey animal and all you saw was a threat.

A thought, sharp as those gilded talons, slashed beyond your imagination and into the walls of your most sensitive place. They pierced and drilled into the intimate area just long enough for you to know they were there – both in your mind and your body – shanking their way into a place nothing was meant to enter, let alone something so dangerous.

Although a primal need to defend yourself shot through your nervous system, you were too incapacitated to do much more than body-jolting inhale. Your only defense, you had long-since learned, was to freeze. Your brain buzzed in an unpleasant manner as you started to come down from the imaginary fingering.

“You’re overreacting,” scoffed the voice of a past partner. “It’s just a finger.” You hadn’t spoken to them in years, but the disregard in their voice remained fresh, further embittering you to the fact that that was what managed to creep into you rather than the bravery you so desperately needed.

You had to pray once more that Terzo hadn’t noticed anything. A change in your already shifty demeanor, the way your legs twitched inward but not out of lust (not when Primo’s sermon was focused more on wrath today), or how your body’s momentary lurch. Much like your prayer for strength, though, you suspected this plea went ignored. You didn’t need to look up and see Terzo’s smile falter to think that.

The moment Papa Primo dismissed the congregation, you made quick work of the camouflage offered by the uniforms of habits and lace.

When a quick glance back allowed you to catch sight of a confused-looking Papa Terzo, you forced yourself to swallow the pathetic truth: You were never going to find the courage to even say sorry, let alone that you no longer wanted to see him.

What you did find – or rather, what found you – was an overwhelming torrent of grief and frustration as you flung yourself into your room and back into the bed where your day had started with a massive hitch. You shoved your face into your flattening pillow and hoped there was just enough down still left in it to muffle up your screams. And tears. Belial, you told yourself you wouldn’t cry over this sort of thing anymore. Over anyone. You should’ve been used to this type of thing by now, so what was the use in wasting energy like this?

What was the point in dwelling on how nice it all was, how nice Terzo made you feel, or how you secretly looked forward to your conversations, no matter how bizarre or intellectual? You gained nothing but the label of immature whenever you indulged in the schoolgirlish feeling of letting Terzo accompany you in the halls. Indulgence might have been encouraged by the Church, but not when it hurt or disrupted the paths of others’ own pursuits.

There was absolutely no way what you had done wasn’t going to inevitably end in pain of some kind, be it physical on your part or mental and emotional on Terzo’s.

But then again, maybe . . . Maybe you didn’t have to do this after all? Maybe you could make peace with where things were headed. You wouldn’t be able to let him inside of you in the traditional sense, no, but surely that just meant that you would just have to . . . adjust things? Yeah . . . Yeah, maybe that could work . . .

Maybe I could earn his love in other ways? Prove that I’m not ungrateful and won’t waste his feelings? Intrusive visions of you “earning” that love projected onto the walls of your mind. Under more pleasant, more normal circumstances, some of the ideas would’ve been a delight for you in some way. Par for the course of a healthy relationship.

But the possibility that these might be the only ways to grant you worthiness, to allow you to deserve Terzo’s attention and love, to deserve Terzo . . . It felt tainted. It felt like an even worse lie to perform. It burned like a poison through your mind and heart before becoming incorporated with all the other pains rising to the surface.

The knock at your door was a welcome distraction, but only long enough for you to forget the possibility of it being Terzo on the other side.

You contemplated pretending that nobody was home before a muffled voice said, “I can smell you through the door, y’know.” Ah. A ghoul. Better in that it wasn’t Terzo, but worse in that you couldn’t avoid them. To your chagrin, the trek from your bed to the door wasn’t nearly long enough to look presentable or like you hadn’t been crying.

You could practically feel their eyes through the mask, studying your tear-stained ones as they smelled the salt that had settled on your cheeks. Nonetheless, they continued ever professionally with, “Papa III has sent me to come retrieve you.” From the way they barely contained their tail’s amused wagging, it was clear that they were getting a rise out of the insinuations of the invitation.

You may as well have been off to the gallows (or worse, Sister’s office) with how dour your disposition was. Being a part of the Emeritus line, Terzo’s chambers were further away from your humble digs in the Siblings’ quarters. Still, it felt as though there wasn’t nearly enough time from your door to his for you to concoct whatever it was you could say or do. Which, to be fair, wasn’t really much to begin with anyway. You were screwed, your fate sealed the moment the ghoul knocked on one of a pair of the large, wooden doors.

“Entrare,” the room’s occupant answered. Your heart beat icy pumps as you and your escort obliged.

You’d never been inside Terzo’s quarters before, not that you hadn’t been invited. Granted, the first few times had been in the very beginning, before he’d realized that his usual tricks weren’t going to work on an unusual suspect. He never brought it back up again, even as the two of you appeared to grow more comfortable with one another.

It was a shame, then, that you were too possessed with anxiety to properly take it all in: In another, more pleasant mental space, you would have adored the large, framed vintage posters that decorated the rich purple walls, or giggled at just how much purple and gold this guy actually used in one admittedly spacious but still single space.

You couldn’t properly see it, being in what appeared to be more of a lounging area (really, how big was the average Emeritus’s room compared to the lowly Siblings’ quarters?), but you could just make out what appeared to be a bedroom down a small coridor. From what little you could see, there was a bed made of rich, dark wood with a velvety canopy.

Dramatic, but fitting for someone like Terzo, you mused in a split second of clarity before the gravity of the situation returned with ten times the weight as before. After all, here you were, standing in the boudoir of the man whom you’d been avoiding all day. Avoiding because you’d failed to do your due diligence and warn him against pursuing you. And there was his damn bed right freaking there – !!!

That prey animal instinct from mass began to skitter back as you instinctively began to look for ways out of this. Maybe you could leap out that Satanic Tiffany glass window? You’d be killing two birds with one stone if you did: You could get out of a confrontation, and the action would surely unnerve Terzo enough for him to draw back, right?

However, the make-believe agility and will to do so quickly dissolved out of you the moment you heard the voice you’d been avoiding all day once more. “Grazie, Wisp,” he addressed the ghoul. From the sounds of it, he must’ve been in a room off to the side, away from view. Despite Terzo not being visible to them, the ghoul still offered a bow in respect before taking their leave (though not without their nosiness prompting them to sneak one last look into the room).

You winced in sync with the door clicking shut, the soft padding of footsteps on the plush carpeting thundered in your ears as Terzo made his appearance. Even though he made sure to keep some space between the both of you, you still felt increasingly like a trapped animal.

As much as you wanted to cast your eyes down and pretend to be intrigued by the fact that the flooring was black instead of some shade of purple, acting as though nothing was amiss was your best course of action. Even if you felt your breathing hitch both with uneasiness and infatuation over the fact that, yet again, the man’s face was bare of his usual paints. It did, however, carry a small look of concern. While you felt guilty, perhaps him being worried would be easier to work with than him being outright upset?

You tried to predict the sort of things a concerned Terzo might say and what responses would be appropriate when you noticed something else about him: His clothing. You didn’t expect Terzo to be lounging in his own living space in his robes but even then, he tended to favor going about in his suit. This was the first time you’d seen him in anything that could be considered casual and not relating to his position as a Papa. The first time you’d seen him in pants that were actually tailored, actually! It was questionable if a men’s blouse made from what might’ve been silk could qualify as “informal”, but your brain was currently unable to drum up that inquiry.

Instead, it was too busy focusing on how the top was being worn: With only the top two buttons undone, the edge of what was more likely than not an absolute thicket of black chest hairs was visible. (If you were a stronger person – a better, more functioning one – you would’ve absolutely braved that thicket like a safari explorer.)

You gulped, realizing that maintaining eye contact was going to be harder than usual. If you were quicker about keeping your wits, you might’ve tried to speak up first. Maybe with a “Hi, Papa. How ‘bout that afternoon mass, amirite?” But Terzo beat you to it.

“. . . How are you?” he inquired. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of accusation in his tone. “Are you doing alright today?”

I’m anxious to the point of sickness and contemplating vandalism with your window, you wanted to say.

“’M alright. Just tired, I guess,” you shrugged. Judging by the way Terzo’s lips pressed into a thin line, he probably didn’t believe you. However, if there was anything you’d learned in your time together, it was that Terzo wasn’t exactly the type to prod. It was easy to assume from the flamboyant persona that he was far nosier than he really was. But the unfortunate and lovely reality was that Terzo trusted you. Worse was that he trusted you enough to both see his true face, and to tell him how you felt when you were comfortable. Your stomach dropped when you remembered the fact you’d been crying before this. Were your eyes still reddened and puffy? Did he notice?

“Vedo,” he replied before slowly crossing his arms. "Well, if that is the case, then perhaps we must do a bit of a raincheck for the evening, yes?”

Your brows lightly twitched in a nonplussed fashion. It was then that you finally noticed the full scope of the room you were in. It was more like a den than an actual lounging area, complete with a TV on a DVD loading screen and a couch sat before it.

You forgot to blink as it hit you. This was what Terzo had been referring to during his face reveal yesterday: He was asking you to watch a movie with him! And you, in your lovesick stupor, had agreed wholeheartedly to it!

Logic (and a sense of cowardice self-preservation) would have dictated that you leap at the opportunity to leave. You needed time to regroup. Maybe make a sacrifice to Satanas in the hopes that that might win you some courage to do what needed to be done.

But before you could commit to it, you reminded yourself: You needed to act unbothered. You’d already aroused suspicion in Terzo as it was. If Terzo thought you really wanted to watch a movie with him, as you had outright stated, then you needed to watch a movie with him. All you had to do was sit down at a reasonable distance and appear completely invested. Too invested to possibly think about how you wanted to tangle your fingers into his chest hair. Or how you absolutely shouldn’t want to do that at all.

“N-no, I’m good!” you insisted a little too eagerly. “I can stay up, I’m not that tired.”

He quirked a brow but questioned no further. “If you insist. Come: I have a small setup.”

The setup being an oddly-shaped popcorn bucket (why . . . did it look kind of like a pope hat?) filled with cheese doodles and a bottle of red wine to be shared between two glasses. You took only the smallest handful of doodles to be courteous but turned down the wine under the claim that you were trying to cut back. The reality was you couldn’t risk letting alcohol lubricate you into either melting down or melting into his lap as you both settled in.

The Man Who Laughs, read the title card. A name just vague enough to sound familiar though you didn’t really know a thing about it. When Terzo briefly explained that its main character, Gwynplaine, had been the visual inspiration for The Joker from Batman, you expected some early horror flick. Perhaps being treated to an hour or two’s worth of a spiteful man seeking revenge and wreaking havoc on the innocent. Odd choice in what you could only describe as a movie date, but you were already in too deep and far too high-strung to comment.

But as the film progressed, you found yourself surprised. Not only because the plot was far from what you’d predicted, but also because you also hadn’t been expecting a sense of solidarity. Sure, you’d never been a stage performer whose disfigurement made him a laughingstock to the pauper and nobleman alike. But nonetheless, Gwynplaine’s plight resonated with you. Something about being an introverted, soft-hearted person who feared their worthiness of love was thwarted by something they had no control over.

When you’d settled on the couch that evening, your goal had been to merely pretend to take the movie in. But the tenderness exhibited by the film’s two main love interests made that all but impossible for you. You now existed in a strange and uncomfortable middle ground: Too invested to keep your wits, but too aware of how uncomfortable the relation was. If this were some vintage horror flick, there might’ve arguably been a chance to hide any visible anxieties as suspense-born fear.

But between the “smiling” man swooning into the beautiful Dea’s touch, to him hiding into himself when his insecurities got the better of him, you just kept being reminded of your own circumstances, and how Terzo had given you his full face when you couldn’t even give him the truth.

A wave of self-directed disgust began to boil in you, causing you to briefly tic. Otherwise, though, you remained stiff. It was a fair film, after all, and it was a shame that you were corrupting yet one more thing that was dear to Terzo by equating it with your own problems.

But inside you were the beginnings of a nor’easter of biblical proportions: Deluges depicted you forcing yourself through your fears in a pathetic effort to prove to him he could still love you; the voices of failed relationships past split through your mind like thunderclaps; even the howling winds sounded like your whimpers whenever you trapped yourself in the bathroom, determined but failing to conquer Q-tips and dilators and even your own pinky finger. The flood they all created sloshed and battered about your insides and squeezed at your lungs, brutalizing your mind.

Just relax already, they said.

You’re just being difficult! they had accused.

Quit holding out! they demanded.

The film became less and less visible to you as you tried to steady your breathing and cling to something inside. Please, Dark Lord, great Old One, you prayed once more. Did you want silence? Freedom? For the moment to end, or for everything to pause? You couldn’t tell with all this noise. Please –

Forget it.

Despite being born from the storm, it hung over it, breaking through everything and silencing all. Even your prayer felt muted compared to how deafening the command sounded in your head. The voice did not belong to the Dark One, however. It didn’t even belong to the other Big Guy. You knew this voice, actually. It had been years since you’d last seen or heard from its owner, but you still heard it nearly every day since. And they always said the same thing every time:

No one is going to put up with this if you can't fix it!

You fought to contain any reaction from reaching the surface, but you failed: You shuddered. Violently so. You had to quickly cover it up with an overcorrection of tensing, but you thought you’d managed.

You didn’t even have time to make up an excuse when you caught Terzo moving from the corner of your eye. He was getting closer – no: His arm was getting closer. Angling to wrap around you.

There shouldn’t have been anything intimidating about the idea of Terzo, coming at you with 30% of his hairy chest out, possibly aiming to get some over-the-shoulder action. Unfortunately for you, at this point, you were beyond intimidated. This was made clear with your reaction of jerking away, emitting a gaspy, yelpy whimper you never knew you could even make.

And for a moment, everything but the film froze.

It was an odd juxtaposition, the swelling orchestral music playing as you both just stared at one another without a single hint of romance. You truly were like Gwynplaine now, hands covering your mouth as your eyes stared wide. Terzo’s own eyes being wide was rather commonplace, but the way he stared at you now made you feel uneasy. It was almost as though those big eyes of his were suddenly seeing everything in high definition, able to see now see every crack in the structure that was you.

The soundtrack could’ve played on for an eternity before his low voice quietly spoke above it.

“Mia cara. . .? Are you okay?” He sounded even more uncertain than he did yesterday when he asked you about his face. When you failed to respond, he tried much softer: “(Y/N).”

Your breath hitched, icy and cold in your burning throat. You could count the times he’d used your actual name on one hand. Nearly all of them had been during the very beginning of your interactions. Back when he was trying to prove the extent of his interest. Otherwise, it was always a term of endearment: “Mia sorellina” or “Tesoro mio” or “Piccina mia” and so on.

Always “mio/a”. Always his, even when you had no right to be. But now, as he stared at you, having to resort to using your actual name, he must’ve been starting to realize that . . .

Even though it had done you no favors this entire evening, you let panic guide you to spring into action. You stammered and struggled for words as you tried to make yourself untense.

“I-I’m – I’m sorry, I was just so enthralled –” Did that word even fit here? “I was really into the movie, the sudden movement startled me and –” But it wasn’t so sudden, was it? “I’m really sorry, I just –”

But you just what? You did not know, and it was extremely apparent the more you talked.

“I thought you were cold,” Terzo gently reasoned once your words tapered off. At this, the arm you’d feared was coming to corner you shook gently. In his hand was the edge of a throw blanket you’d been leaning against. “I was going to offer you some cover. I thought you’d been stiff this entire while, and then you shuddered, so I . . .”

His movements were notably slower now. Felt the need to be more careful, even if all he was doing was reaching for the remote to finally pause the ongoing show.

His eyes were less wide as well, but what they left in their wake was a firm yet troubled stare. It wasn’t meant to make you feel so afraid, but the feeling was there regardless.

“(Y/N),” he stated carefully. “If you are not comfortable, then I need you to tell me. I am a big boy, I can understand boundaries. If I’ve been moving too fast or made you uncomfortable in any way, I –”

“The problem isn’t you, it’s me,” you interrupted. God. Satan. Whomever had stuck around to witness this travesty. Being the truth didn’t make it seem any less lame. And judging by how Terzo’s demeanor shifted into being unimpressed, he clearly thought so as well.

“To be brutally frank, Sorella, I was hoping for a bit more . . . honesty.” The delivery of that last word faltered somewhat, but it was more than enough to provide a healthy punch to your gut. Actually hearing Terzo express disappointment towards you was far more devastating than anything your mind could have concocted. He’d already implied on multiple occasions how he’d often found himself on the shorter end of a seemingly mutual trust. Now you were just another person who’d failed to uphold their end.

While true, something in you felt the need to still fight back.

“No, you don’t get it,” you hoarsely insisted against the tightening of your throat. Your fingers immediately set to biting into your arms as they crossed.

“Then help me to!” he finally demanded. “You’ve been acting strange ever since yesterday, so what? Is it me after all? My face? What?!” The frenzy, while warranted, made everything inside you curl inward. Everything suddenly felt too big, too loud for the decreasing space inside you. Your lungs couldn’t expand enough, and you could practically feel the hurricane inside you banging at your eyes to be let out. Your teeth sank into your lips just as your nails sank even more into your arms. Anything to bite back and fight back what was quickly becoming inevitable.

He must have realized what he’d done, or perhaps he just used his eyes to see you practically shrinking. His expression uncrumpled into something more tender and apologetic, but creases of quiet frustration remained.

“Cara. (Y/N),” he corrected, his more patient voice from before returning. “I apologize for my outburst. Really. I do. But . . . Please: What is going on?”

If you opened your mouth, you were fucked.

“I cannot fix things if you don’t tell me what needs to be fixed.”

Soft like dynamite. The dam splintered, it cracked, and then it collapsed entirely. Your body was never one to take things in or hold them, after all.

“You can’t fix me . . .” It was quiet and light and it weighed down on your insides like no other.

Terzo’s brows gathered. “. . . Perdono?”

“I said you can’t fix me, okay?!” you repeated, your sentence made jagged and uneven by its sobbing delivery. The sudden explosion left the normally calm Papa taken aback. His lips parted, surely about to question what you could possibly mean, but the flood was unrelenting as it poured from your eyes and lips.

“I’m sorry! I lied! I lied, I lied, I lied, okay!? My body doesn’t work, okay, it’s fucking broken, and I knew it all along but I couldn’t tell you because I’m a f-fucking coward a-and I’m s-s-elfish – And – !” But this point, though, your throat far too tight and painful to even try continuing. Besides, you’d said all of what mattered, right? That you’d lied to him by omission, that you were broken, and that you were a goddamn selfish coward for pretending otherwise.

The truth hurt but you deserved this pain, having only yourself to blame that you were experiencing this on this man’s couch instead of in the privacy of your room. Everything in you screamed to get up and run back there, in fact, but you lacked the will to do anything other than stay put in a near-blinding fit of crying, probably fucking up the sofa with all the tears you were leaking onto it. You might’ve stayed that way even longer if it weren’t for a sudden nudging at your knee.

Apparently at some point during your pity party, Terzo had taken the opportunity to get up and . . . retrieve a box of tissues? Not leave? Or call for a ghoul to come and get you? Actually, that made a bit of sense: He was too much of a gentleman to kick somebody out while they were crying, no matter how awkward the circumstances.

As much as the punishing part of you wanted to reject it, the suffocation of your snotty nose was intolerable. You accepted the tissue box and dug in until your face stung with how much you had to wipe at it.

Terzo meanwhile resumed his seat, making sure to allow you space as you let out whatever nonverbal emotion you needed to let out. He didn’t force you to talk – not that you could, remaining a coughing, hiccupping mess even as the emotional tempest began to recede.

In fact, he himself didn’t say a word until you’d managed to work yourself down to pathetic, wet sniffles and tremors.

“. . . You know you’re not broken, right?” he asked. You almost didn’t hear it about you

You sniffled, perplexed. Terzo watched patiently as he continued, “Look: I don’t know exactly what’s going on. But what I do know is that you make me laugh. I like talking to you. I like talking with you. I just. Like you. So clearly, something about you must work, si?”

You shook your head. No. No, that’s what they all said. Maybe not like that, but they all said one of two things:

Either they claimed this didn’t bother them and that they could work with your condition, only to later realize they couldn’t keep up the lie; or they would ask to go your separate ways. He hadn’t done the latter yet, but after everything you’d put him through, he at least deserved specification to make that decision.

“No, I mean,” you took in a deep, shaky inhale. Mostly to calm the discomfort. “I mean. My body – It literally doesn’t – I have a condition, Terzo.” You paused just enough to let the words sink in – for the both of you. It never got easier to say no matter how many times you said it. “I can’t have sex. Not in a normal way, anyway. So, like. No penetrating or whatever. Not even, like, a tongue. Shit hurts so I don’t – I can’t bother with it. And like.” You twisted your fingers. “That feels kind of antithetical to the whole ‘living deliciously’ vibe or whatever you’re supposed to be promoting. So . . .”

So there. That was it. In a sick sort of way, you did feel somewhat of a weight lifted. The heavy, gross feeling of rejection still sat within you, but you had a familiarity with it. In time, it, too, would fizzle back into the recesses of your mind. You could . . . live with it there . . .

“. . . So what?” Terzo practically huffed, barely fighting back a smirk, one you couldn’t tell if it was from his own words, or in response to the stunned expression you now wore. “First off – and forgive me for missing any point – but you do realize that the whole of that whole ‘living deliciously’ shit comes from making choices, right? If sex is what you’re talking about, I don’t necessarily need sex. Is nice, yes, but. It’s not my whole fucking life, you know.”

. . . Well, no, but . . . To be fair, that rockstar persona certainly made that easy to not consider. Before you could argue this, he continued.

“Second off,” Terzo held up two fingers. “You do realize sex is more than just insert-dick-in-pussy, yes? Your Papa is . . . Well, he knows he is no blushing virgin, we shall say. No offense.” (At this, your expression blanked. Bemusement was superior to distress, though, you supposed.) “But do you really think that I think there is only one way to make sex count? Cara, per favore: Sex is sex! So long as everyone is having fun – and consenting! – then what is there to worry about?”

“E in terzo luogo,” he added a third finger before giving all three a wiggle, “do you really think that I would do all this if all I wanted was a quick fuck? I mean, think about it, piccina. Give me more credit.”

Well, when he put it like that . . . Your cheeks and ears burned less from humiliation, but from a much softer breed of embarrassment.

“Well . . . no . . .” you admitted. “B-but going back to the choice thing – I thought the idea was to make choices that don’t hurt anybody.”

He nodded with agreement. “Questo è vero. But here we are. And no one got hurt, si?”

You bit your lip, “But . . . I lied to you. I wasted your time, and – ” At this, Terzo’s hand rose, signaling for you to shut your yap.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, dolcezza,” he spoke, his features tame but stern. “You did not waste my time. Okay? I gave you my time. And I wouldn’t ask for a moment of it back. And do you know why?” He didn’t even allow you enough time to make a snarky response: “Because I chose to spend it with you. Even if I’d known, I’d choose you. And why would I not? Sei una bellisima compagnia, and I already love what we do together, even if it’s not fucking. Now, have I thought about us fucking? Yes! Often!” (You felt your blush deepening at his rather blunt confession.)

“But I have also thought about things we have talked about; things I would like for us to talk about; things I would like for us to do – besides each other, I mean. But it here’s a fourth thing.”

No fourth finger this time. Just him offering you his hand. You felt every particle in your abdomen squish and flip over the simple gesture, but curiosity made you pushed through to accept it. Even as his other hand came over on top of yours, any trapped feeling you might’ve had mere moments before never came forward. If anything, you felt . . . here? And for as buzzy as “here” felt, you didn’t want to run from it.

Terzo gave your hand a grounding squeeze as his eyes remained locked with your own. “I’m never gonna do something that hurts you. Alright?” he swore. “And if I do? Then I need you, I beg of you to tell me. Because if you don’t want to do anything, then we don’t do anything. We do nothing but enjoy one another’s company. That is plenty enough for me, dolcezza, I can promise you this. Do you understand?”

You gulped. You didn’t even realize your eyes had widened until you found yourself needing to blink back a fresh, much smaller batch of warm tears. You could practically feel your mind scrambling, trying to reference past experiences that could help you work off of this. Maybe proof he was lying, an argument you could present – something to make this all make sense!

But it found nothing of the sort. No one, in all those times, had ever offered a third thing, let alone one where you felt like you had an actual say in how things went.

Should . . . Should you nod? Could you be trusted to make the right decision here? You nodded. It was uneasy and uncertain, but the smile it gave Terzo seemed to be the proper answer.

“Good girl,” he affirmed. Oh. Yep. That was the right answer, you decided with a jittery exhale.

“Now!” Terzo exclaimed before giving the back of your hand a gentle pat and releasing it. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to finish our movie. Call me a firm nerd but I’ve waited all night to hear your thoughts on this, no joking.”

The change in atmosphere was dizzying as Terzo readjusted himself into a more comfortable position, as though you hadn’t just bared your soul and literal intimacies to him and had him respond in the most genuine and affirming way possible. Not as though it were nothing, but more like it was just not nearly as distressing as what you’d prepared yourself to face. With the storm settling and the fog of anxiety clearing, it became increasingly apparent just how discolored your thoughts had become by your past experiences. Of course Terzo wouldn’t be so rigid about sex: It went against everything he stood for, everything he was!

Of course, complete acceptance on your end wouldn’t be immediate. But you could work with this. Though, there was admittedly one last concern you had before movie night resumed.

“B-but.” You stopped short as Terzo turned his attention back to you. You had to remind yourself that the nerves you felt now were nothing compared to before. You could do this. “But . . . What if I . . . do want to do something?”

A bushy brow at the insinuation.

“N-not now! Not immediately,” you clarified. Suddenly the fringe of the throw blanket required your attention as you began fidgeting with it. “I just . . . You know.” You gave an awkward shrug and glanced up at him, a look of pleading twinkling in your eyes as you hoped he understood what you meant. Not any time soon, perhaps, but . . . Some day? You watched as the right corner of his mouth, the one where that darling beauty mark lay, rose up into a smile.

“Then, cuore mio, we talk about it,” he answered simply. “And, if you still want to ‘do something’ after?” He leaned in, the warmth of his smile heating into a devilish smirk.

“We do it. Whatever that may look like for us.”

You nearly blacked out when the bastard had the audacity to wink at you.

He then clicked play, shifting back into place as Gwynplaine and Dea came back to life. By the time you’d managed to regain your composure and refocus on the movie, Dea was cradling Gwynplaine’s tearful face in her hands. Assuming you hadn’t missed anything, this was the first time the poor soul had actually ever let her touch his face in all its deformed glory. And judging by her jubilant reaction, Dea couldn’t have been happier.

Good for him, you quietly delighted. It was absolutely what he deserved after all that time spent torturing himself over nothing. As you resituated yourself back into the cushions, you briefly noted how the voices from before, while still there, were much quieter. They lacked the power provided by the storm, and any time one of them seemed to try and get louder, you’d hear Terzo’s voice smother it out.

I’d choose you, he affirmed.

Good girl, he praised.

You know you’re not broken, right? he reminded.

It gave you goosebumps, though not the kind that the throw blanket could pat out. But you had a theory.

It seemed that the Old One had finally chosen now to put some courage in you. Better late than never, you supposed as you began to inch closer and closer along the couch until you could feel the heat radiating off Terzo’s body. The proximity in itself was thrilling enough, but the boldness didn’t stop there.

You tested the waters, leaning a little further into him, only for his arm to calmly come around you. Whatever space that remained was quickly closed as you felt yourself being tugged and cushioned into his side. You had only a nanosecond to catch the barely-contained smile on his face before you practically melted into place. Terzo’s touch, his scent, his warmth, his everything flooded into you, filling you with a simultaneous calmness and a vigor you hadn’t felt in years.

Your dream from before had been right after all: You belonged here, right next to your Papa.

[aezuria]

uptown girl!

"she's been living in her uptown world, i bet she's never had a backstreet guy" —billy joel

content: mortal au!leo valdez x reader

╰┈▸ info: stuck-up reader (she gets character development later), cursing, reader is ~18, early 2000s core

notes: stella finally posted a fic !? (pls tell me if u enjoy i need validation 😔)

this has got to be the worst way to start summer ever. first, your morning was ruined by a bird shitting all over your car window—not a mess you had the time nor the patience to clean. then, on your way to pick up your friends for some much needed girl time, your car had the fun idea of breaking down. great. it left you on the side of the road, dialing up your father. which, when you think about it, really wasn't your fault! your precious ride just spontaneously combusted or something. nothing to do with the fact that you've crashed the front about seven times since january. after all, you'd gotten them fixed! it should be the mechanic's fault. or maybe, this car was cursed!

but of course, your dad just had to disagree. apparently it was his "last straw."

you winced away from the phone's speaker as his voice burst through. "you have been so ungrateful lately! when you asked for that car, i bought it for you! i looked over the fact that you don't even have your license yet! all i asked was for you to take care of your things!" he cried. from the tone of his voice, you could imagine the creases dug into his forehead. okay, now you felt bad. just a little.

before you could apologize, he finished with, "you just wait until i get there, young lady."

leave it to him to take away your guiltiness.

"dad!" you watched in horror as the truck towed your sleek red baby to god knows where. you turned your stricken expression on him, hoping to elicit at least a little bit of sympathy. but it seemed like his mind was made up on this one. dammit.

he crossed his arms sternly, putting his foot down. "let's go. we'll talk more in the house."

"-so you want to ship me away to some place crawling with bugs and creeps for the rest of the summer!?" you screeched along with the chair as its legs slid across the kitchen's tile floor.

your dad raised his hand in a placating gesture. "now, now, just until your car is fixed. it might not even be a whole month." he shrugged. yeah, real comforting. "and the city's a nice place. we lived there when you were young, remember?"

"no, i don't remember." you snapped. you did remember, but that brought on memories you'd rather not have right now.

he sucked in a breath. "alright then. it won't be so bad. we still have that apartment, and i got it cleaned up recently. it'll teach you some responsibility and independence." he nodded, satisfied with his decision.

you opened your mouth to snark at him again, but he continued, "and you won't be completely alone. there's a nice young man who will be fixing up your car, just down the street from the apartment building. i asked him to show you around when he has the time. and you'll have your phone, so make sure to call me, okay?" his strict behavior gave way to the soft spot you knew he had for you.

"...okay," you agreed reluctantly. once he really made up his mind about something, there was no changing it, so there was no use in arguing.

he smiled, patting your shoulder gently. "great. now pack your bags."

"be sure to buy groceries, and do the laundry, and clean every so often-" your father rambled on and on. if he was this worried, why wouldn't he just not go through with it? and why was he acting like you couldn't do basic chores!? it's not like you ever did them, but they couldn't be too hard, right?

"i get it dad." you rolled your eyes, staring out the car window. the buildings were all drab, painted in browns and grays, without a single bright color in sight, save for the red stop signs.

he pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the building. your insides recoiled. you swore it didn't look this... dilapidated all those years ago. or maybe you just had better taste now.

"we're here! looks like it's got a lot of.. character." he tried to cheer you up, but even you could tell he didn't think to check how it looked. it would've hurt too much to do so.

your lip scrunched in distaste. "i can't spend a single second in there."

"don't worry, it'll be over before you know it." with one last reassuring smile, he turned and left.

the apartment itself wasn't too bad, it was all cleaned up, just as your father had said. it smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, pillows fluffed and spritzed. your room was cold despite the warmth that came with summer. the pristine sheets were unfamiliar against your skin, as if you were tucked into a hotel bed. the sound of tire rolling against pavement never ceased, people had places to go, places to be even in the dead of night. a draft through your window made you shiver. you should close that in the morning. you curled in on yourself like you did when you were little, only this time there was only the unfeeling fabric to hold you, instead of the warm, long forgotten embrace no one could quite replicate.

you cringed at the shoddy place your phone had led you to, and looked up at the peeling paint sign that read: valdez mechanics. how charming. you even debated touching the rusty doorknob, but it swung open before you could turn it. which would be nice, if it didn't almost smack you in the face.

"watch it!" you hissed, side-stepping in time to see a boy your age walking through. his hair was a mess, and there were grease stains all over his face and clothes. his fingers were tap, tap, tapping away at his leg, to the rhythm of the song blaring inside. you think he'd be cute if he wasn't so dirty.

“sorry ‘bout that!” he laughed sheepishly. he stared at you for a moment too long before asking, “you here for the thunderbird?”

“yes,” you said shortly.

he chose to ignore your clipped tone, flashing you a smile. “come on in then, yeah?”

you followed him into the tiny shop, already wanting to leave. the place smelled of oil, and you could barely find a clean place to sit on. there were tools thrown everywhere, the floor sticky with dried up grease.

“i’m leo, by the way.” his voice snapped you out of your judging thoughts as he led you to the back. you finally saw your car, propped up with the hood open.

“y/n.” you barely glanced at him as you rushed over, examining the damage. “so? what’s wrong with her?”

he gestured with the wrench in his hand—when’d he get that?—and pointed to the engine. “well that’s all busted up, so i’m gonna have to build a new one for ya. i’ll do you an oil change too and-“

“yeah um, how long will it take?” you interrupted, giving him a smile you did not want to have on.

“i’d say three to five weeks? depends if i have any other stuff that comes in so…”

three to five weeks of your summer wasted away here? when you’re supposed to be having the best time of your life before college!?

“are you serious? can you get it done sooner? i can pay you some more-“ you reached into your purse.

“whoa!” he caught your wrist. his hands were clean now, must’ve wiped them on a rag. “money won’t make me work faster, honey.” he let go and shrugged. “sorry.”

honey? “well then what will? cause i need to leave as soon as-“

“some help, maybe?”

you blinked at him, utterly flabbergasted. “you want me to help you? the person who’s paying for all this?”

“technically, your father’s the one paying,” leo pointed out. “and y’know. you don’t have to help, of course. it just might make it go a bit quicker…” he trailed off, dimples poking through as he tried to hide a cheeky smile.

you huffed. “what do i have to do?”

”i am not sticking my hands in those.” you defied, shaking your head firmly.

leo scoffed, flapping the gloves around. “come on! this is the cleanest pair i have!”

"put this here?" you asked, shoving a part that you forgot the name of into an empty space.

"hm?" leo looked up from his fiddling, jaw dropping in horror. "no no no!"

"oh i know how to do this!" you exclaimed as he gave you a screwdriver. "my dad always said 'lefty loosey, righty tighty.'"

the boy nodded. "yeah! try it out." he pointed to a loose screw.

you successfully tightened it (to the right), giving him a proud smirk. "see?"

"yup." leo grinned at your enthusiasm, even though it was the most basic thing ever. "try and tighten the rest. i'll be right back."

a loud clatter made leo jump from across the repair shop. he rushed over to you, finding the parts that were supposed to be screwed together in complete disarray. "uh, maybe you shouldn't help..."

"really?" you deadpanned. "i hadn't noticed."

"sorry." he laughed. "scooch."

you pursed your lips. no one told you to "scooch" before. but you moved over anyway.

"wanna keep me company?" leo slid his gloves on and began putting the contraption back together.

no, you thought. but you didn't have anything better to do other than wander the city like a clueless idiot. and you hated looking like an idiot. "fine."

the shop was quiet, save for the occasional clanging as leo worked on the engine. his rambling was cut short as he focused on his work, something you didn't know he could do.

"nice car you got here. i've always wanted to drive one of these." he patted its side appreciatively. "where'd you buy this?"

scratch that. maybe he could only shut up in two minute increments.

"don't know. my dad bought it for me." you looked around, not even bothering to hide your boredom.

"right." leo laughed. you found he did that a lot. "must be nice."

your eyebrows knitted in confusion. "i guess?" what did he mean by that?

"i hate it here. it's so boring!" you complained over the phone. cooking dinner had been an absolute mess. “and that leo guy is so weird.”

"give him a chance, will you? he could show you around town, maybe teach you some manners…” you father muttered the last bit.

"what?"

"nothing! all i'm saying is give that boy a chance. who knows, he could be a great friend."

“‘great friend’ my… foot.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for visiting a restaurant after it changed ownership?

I (young adult, genders irrelevant for everyone in this story) have been living in the same neighborhood for most of my life, and I usually cook my own dinner. However, because my dad left the family when I was young, and my mom made me move out as soon as I was an adult, I wasn't completely prepared to live on my own, so I don't have a consistent source of income. I've had to move between apartments in the same neighborhood a lot, and sometimes when I'm in the process of moving it's really hard to cook my own dinner. The neighborhood is pretty isolated, so there aren't really many other places to get food, so I've mostly been hungry during those moving periods.

However, a few months ago, my friend R told me L, one of our neighbors I hadn't talked to before, was starting a restaurant business. She'd apparently started out by making food for her two children, S and O, who I'd seen around the neighborhood a few times and was vaguely familiar with, but realized her food was good and opened it up to the rest of the neighborhood for a low price. Of course, I was super excited to get to try someone else's cooking for the first time since I'd moved out, so R and I started visiting L's restaurant every now and then when I was moving or otherwise unable to cook. It's her secondary job, so she wasn't always there, but S and O also worked there and were friendly to us.

I thought it was a good arrangement... until I visited one day recently to find the door closed at a time when it's usually open. I would have just gone home, but it had been really rainy lately, I was under a lot of stress, and I didn't feel up to getting food for myself in those conditions, so I stood around for a few minutes, waiting to see if S or O would come out and explain. Instead, some people I've never seen before came into the lobby of the restaurant and just stared at me from inside. Instead of explaining anything to me or letting me in, they just laughed at me and took pictures of me? I was already really upset and that just made it unbearable to be around other people, so I left. I went back a few days later to double check if it was open, because I was still hungry, but the new people were still there, and I left even more quickly this time. I'm not proud of that- maybe I could have talked to the new people if I'd stayed longer instead of embarrassing myself, but I also feel like they were being really rude.

I asked R about it later to see if they'd talked to S or O lately or knew anything about what I assumed was change in ownership, but R didn't help at all. They told me that they hadn't seen S or O, but I shouldn't have expected the restaurant to stay open forever and that it was stupid of me to go back on the second day. I guess I can see how I might have been an asshole to go back, but I don't know what R meant about the restaurant. Is it because it's not L's main job? Were we the only customers and not giving her enough income to continue it for anyone but her kids? Or was the restaurant like... a front for money laundering or something? I really don't know. I'm hurt, hungry, and so confused. Was I in the wrong for bothering the new humans? Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[venomous-qwille]

Ghost in the Machine

This is the master post for Ghost in the Machine links, character refs and FAQs.

I will try my best to keep this post as up to date as possible.

What is Ghost in The Machine?

GITM is a DCA AU and a fic set in the retrofuture (2055ish) long after Fazco has shut down. An eccentric collector has been acquiring versions of the Daycare Attendant animatronic from closed locations around the world. The story involves a reader character who has been brought into repair the original post-Ruin DCA from the games, and hijinks ensue. There are also ghosts.

Where can I read the fic?

GITM is currently being posted on Ao3, and is updated every three weeks on Saturdays. The fic is being beta'd by the tremendously talented @bubbiethesaur. You can read GITM here!

There is also a podfic, which you can find here:

Updates to the podfic will be sporadic, so please be patient <3

Where can I see the art?

On this blog I use the #gitm au and #ghost in the machine au tags for GITM related content. If you are looking for art of a specific character, they also have their own tags: #misuta moon #nova #soleil #clip.exe #sunspot mk1 #fool eclipse #ruin eclipse #sombra #sunflower #mr sandman

FAQ~

Why haven't you answered my GITM ask?

One of three reasons: 1) your ask was too spoilery* 2) I'm waiting to answer it with art 3) ADHD

*spoilery includes but is not limited to: any questions about dual-AI or XYZ character's sun/moon variant; questions about character backstories and lore; questions about characters that have not featured in the fic yet (e.g Nova, Sanii, Harvest, Sunflower, Sandman etc); asks speculating about potential future scenarios (don't get me wrong, I love these asks, but I can't answer them!)

Where are all the Moons?

Read and find out. Seriously. There are at least 5 Moons who are core to the plot but I'm not going to talk about them, no matter how nicely you ask!

Does XYZ character have a Sun/Moon counterpart?

Some of them do, some of them don't. The dual-AI stuff is majorly plot related. If I'm not talking about someone's Sun/Moon counterpart, rest assured you will find out eventually. I won't be spoiling any of it on tumblr though :)

Can I create fanart of GITM?

Yes yes yes please do and please tag me when you post it so I can see it/reblog! If you are unsure if something is ok, please ask.

Can I create fanfic of GITM?

Super flattered about this. I have a longform answer to this question which you can read here. But tl;dr yes you can, please tag/credit me, do not spoil/try to write the lore, and please do not write GITM au (e.g mafia, mer, medieval). I have my own plans for this stuff and I would prefer to release the designs/stories in my own time. If you are unsure if something is ok, please ask.

Can I create NSFW GITM content?

Until recently I had blanket perms that allowed NSFW GITM content. I'm updating this to let you guys know I'm no longer comfortable with people making this content. Back when the community was small, I felt differently, but as time has passed a lot has changed and I've found myself becoming increasingly anxious about it. If this boundary changes again in the future, I will update this FAQ.

Do you have character refs I can use?

There is a collection of art 'refs' for each character on the Misutamojis discord. Latest link here.

There are no proper call-out sheets/refs currently, but I have a huge body of art for the characters on this blog which should give you more than enough info for most of them. I will get around to creating proper refs eventually, in which case I will link them here.

Where can I find the playlist?

I have a huge number of playlists for the fic and the individual characters! Up to date links are kept on the discord, but you can see my tumbler masterlist of playlists here: Part I // Part II

I've heard there are secret GITM drabbles, where can I find them?

I used to post frequent drabbles from future chapters in the DCA Palooza discord, I have recently deleted the majority of them as people were going back and binging them which hadn't been the intended reading experience. Anywho, this question probably refers more to the spicy drabbles (which people have very kindly made a lot of delicious art for). These are still around! You just need to access the spicy channel and do some digging.

Is there a GITM discord?

Nope! There is a server for GITM emotes and a busy thread in the DCA Palooza, but currently I don't have any plans to make a GITM-centric discord community. If that does happen in the future it's likely I will simply convert the emotes server (Misutamojis).

It finally happened, I converted Misutamojis. You can join the GITM discord here.

Can I smooch the robots?

Yes.

All of them?

All of them.

[melodymunson]

Stranger Things- The To-Do list

Chapters 1 & 2

You are graduating from high school and planning to make your summer before college the best of your life. Along the way, you have sexual encounters with fellow friends and graduates. Lifeguard Billy is your biggest crush and Barb, Nancy are your best friends. You are adopted with one sister Heather who works as a lifeguard with Billy at the Hawkins community pool. Featuring appearances from Robin, Chrissy, Argyle, and Jeff, with mentions of Jonathan and Gareth from and in the ST series. Steve and Eddie are the main characters. Original character OC is Edwina who's Eddie's fraternal twin sister. The face claim for Edwina is Angelina Jolie in the movie Gia. No Upside Down this is a Stranger Things AU alternate universe.

(Based on Aubrey Plaza's movie The To-Do List.)

Chapters 1&2 6.3K words.

ao3 link

wattpad link

to do list masterlist

Chapter 1 plot info- You graduate from Hawkins High School in the summer of 86 with Robin, Nancy, Barb, Jonathan, Eddie, Chrissy. At a graduation party, you accept an offer from Argyle you can't possibly resist.

Chapter 1

I want you to move me.

The day you had been waiting four years for was finally here. Finally, you were walking the graduation stage as valedictorian at Hawkins High School. Class of ‘86 baby. You had just recently turned 18. Now you were delivering your speech and all 4 years of college you were an outcast, a straight-A student, and a girl who loved to read and research. While your friends and practically everyone else around you went out to parties and drank/got high you spent most of your nights at home.

You had never done more than kiss hell you had never even made out with anyone. Your first kiss with a guy was Jonathan who was now your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend. Your first kiss with a girl was with Nancy but you were better off as friends. The only other thing you had done was cuddle and hold hands with Gareth the drummer of Corroded Coffin.

Standing in front of your fellow graduates including Barb, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Vickie, and even Eddie the freak Munson. He was a total rockstar but so was his fraternal twin Edwina who had graduated a year prior. They were your good friends but you had fantasized about being more than that with them. Following your concession speech you would be going to a college party with hopefully your biggest crush Billy in attendance.

“Hello, class of 1986 I am happy and proud to be your college valedictorian. We have all come so far and I am so honored to be standing here in front of you all. There's a lot we have been through and with those struggles that we have overcome in the 4 years of high school together we are now able to move on to the next chapter in our lives. Whether it be to college, maybe even space, to working a job, college and a job simultaneously, or traveling around the world or just road tripping we are all united in the fact we are Hawkins High graduates. I wish everyone luck and before I end this speech I want to give some wisdom from two of my favorite women who are staunch feminists. Gloria Steinem once said”:

‘The art of life is not controlling what happens to us, but using what happens to us.’

“She is a wise woman and the other woman in question who is also one of my heroes said

‘You change the world by being yourself.’

“One of the greats and the widow of Beatles legend John Lennon said this before and I couldn't agree with her more. I hope everyone here will begin the next chapter in their lives with enthusiasm and even more enthusiasm. Thank you!”

Most people clapped and cheered and you bowed. Next Principal Higgins handed out everyone's diplomas with Eddie snatching up his and running away from the stage flipping Higgins the bird. You then noticed Steve in the audience he was there for his best friend Robin who he worked with at the local Family Video. Steve's gaze caught yours and you smiled as you waved. Robin and Steve began walking over to you as you held your diploma with big smiles on their faces.

Your sister and parents surely took lots of photos of you probably videos as well and they were also nearby. Nancy and Barb told you they would meet you at Nancy's Oldsmobile station wagon after the graduation ceremony commenced. Robin embraced you in a big hug.

“So glad we graduated! Stevie boy here just had to come today to bask in the glory with us didn't you dingus?” Robin teased him with a wink.

“Sure did. Nice tassels ladies. The graduation was great. So proud of you both! So Y/N what are your plans for the summer?” He asked as he flicked your tassel playfully.

Clearing your throat you responded “Not much getting a job hopefully at the pool but my sister has connections obviously. Going to some parties, road trips with the girls, and Robin you should come too,” you urged as you patted her shoulder.

Robin smiled brightly and nodded intrigued by this idea of yours.

“Of course, I would love to. Well, I’ll be working at the cafe a lot this summer, but sure, I think I could fit that into my plans.”

“Ahh, nice well I will be working part-time at the pool this summer. Hope to see you there,” Steve replied with a sly grin.

You embraced him and hugged him loving how well-defined his body was.

“Well, I need to catch up to Nance and Barb. See you both later?” You asked hoping for a raincheck.

They nodded in unison.

“Most definitely. See you later,” Robin answered.

“Later Y/N,” Steve added with a slight wave.

Soon you were at Nancy's car and driving back to your place so you could get ready for the college party that night. There would be a big keg of beer and beer pong, lots of party games, and loud music with dancing.

“So saw you talking to Steve what's up with that?” Nancy asked as she drove getting a few blocks from your house.

“Nothing he just wanted to say congratulations on graduating and so did Robin. I can't believe Eddie finally graduated. Third time the charm I guess,” you told her with a shrug.

Barb looked out the rolled-down window and smiled as the Smiths how soon is now quietly played in the background on Nancy's radio. Was Nancy jealous or something? She had only been on one date with Steve and had preferred women anyway. You also preferred women. Barb and you weren't experienced and Nancy was a little. Currently, her boyfriend was Jonathan.

“Oh nice well I guess I’ll pick you up at 8 or so tonight. Can't wait to get out of this itchy graduation gown.”

Nancy had already tossed her graduation cap and so did Barb. Pulling up to your driveway she idled her car and you unlocked the back door and got out.

“See you then.”

Waving goodbye to them Nancy soon pulled out of the driveway and was on her way again. Inside your room, you turned on some music picking a cassette of Corroded Coffins. Soon you were painting your nails black and were shortly after startled a bit by Heather coming into your room.

“Need to borrow your hair dryer mine broke.”

Going into your bathroom she got your dryer and left with it.

Hours later you were taking a bath and Heather came into your room and then your bathroom. Sitting down on the edge of the tub she smirked.

Looking up you gave her a ‘Can I help you?’ type of grin.

“So my little sis is going to a party tonight. Plan on getting drunk and finally getting laid?” She teased with a giggle.

Heather was dating Tommy but it was nothing serious and she was seeing some people on the side.

“No. For your information, I’ll be there with Nancy and Barb. Billy will probably be there too.”

“God girl you are such a prude. You have to do some exploration before college starts. No pressure or anything but you are my sister and even if you were adopted I care about you. You need to seriously consider it. Everyone goes into college with at least some experience,” she informs you with a flick of her hair.

Scoffing you rolled your eyes at her which she noticed of course and this had her flicking soap bubbles in your face.

“I'm serious though maybe make a to-do list. Of sexual firsts. Or don't. Whatever. Be a loser for all I care,” she scoffs right back at you before standing up and walking out your bathroom door.

“Okay, maybe I will.”

Taking what Heather said to heart you put on some Motley Crue in your cassette player and began your to-do list for that summer and what may even lead into early college. It was going to be a list you could hopefully accomplish at least realistically and if things needed to be added or removed later from the list then you would make the proper adjustments. It would need to be more than just experimentation and equally girls and guys. So you began making your list with a reasonable order and the definitions of sex acts you didn't know you would look up in the dictionary.

-Hickies -Making out -Handjob -Fingering -Renting and watching an adult film with someone else -Mutual masturbation -Use of toys -Phone sex -Motorboating & tit fucking -Blowjob -Eating pussy -Being eaten out -Dominating/being dominated -All-girl threesome -69 -Voyeurism -Rimming -Semi-public sex act -Losing virginity/vaginal sex (Hopefully with Billy). -Anal sex -Orgasm denial -Cream pie -Pegging -Foursome with another girl and 2 guys -Usage of strapon for lesbian sex -Filmed sex act -And most importantly an ORGASM! Hell, lots of orgasms.

Later you were dressed for the party and face full of makeup. Sneaking into Heather's room you borrowed her hot pink stiletto pumps to complete your outfit of red fishnets, a red leather skirt, a matching leather spiked jacket, and a black tube top. Getting your purse ready you dabbed on some white musk perfume and got your lotion, hot pink lipstick, compact mirror, and wallet before heading outside just as Nancy pulled into your driveway. As you got into her car you could hear the radio playing Culture Clubs do you really want to hurt me?

The ride to the party was mellow and mainly quiet. Barb was fairly silent in the backseat as Nancy drove and synth wave music played. The party was at Jason Carver's who you couldn't stand but you planned to make the most of it. The usual suspects would probably be there including Steve and of course the jocks. Nancy's boyfriend Jonathan would no doubt be there as well.

"So you excited for the grad party?" You asked Nancy.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess. Barb and I just want a chill night you know? Plus Barb will be the designated driver tonight."

"I understand. Jonathan is probably excited to see you again soon."

Nancy nodded and you looked out the window noticing Jason's house approaching in the near distance. After parking you got out first and walked with Nancy and Barb to the front door looking into the window from the distance and noticing lots of people gathered around a keg inside. Eddie was there selling his stash, his twin Edwina, and so were the typical jocks, Jason, Chrissy, Jonathan, and Keg King Billy who was playing Pour Some Sugar on Me on acoustic guitar you noticed as the door opened and you walked inside.

Some people were playing beer pong, others were watching and listening to Billy play guitar. In the back yard jocks were playing basketball. Hopefully, tonight will be one for the books to remember for a long time. Billy's eyes locked with yours as he got to the chorus of the Def Leppard song. He winked at you as he strummed the guitar and sang.

It felt like he was singing to you.

"Pour some sugar on me. Oohh. In the name of love."

His voice was beautiful. Pure and raw.

"C'mon, fire me up. Pour your sugar on me. I can't get enough I'm hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet, yeah!"

When the song was finished, the drunk and rowdy crowd applauded Billy. Just then Barb came up to you startling you out of your reverie with a wine cooler. Handing it to you, you removed the top and took a big gulp. Billy's eyes remained on you until some girl rubbed up on him, much to his and your dismay.

Walking away with Barb you found Nancy again and noticed them talking to Jonathan quickly taking notice he was with his friend from back west. Argyle you recalled. He seemed to be stoned a lot but nice.

"Hey Y/N. Are you having fun yet?" Jonathan asked before taking a big swig of his beer. Nancy was drinking red wine from a blue solo cup and Barb had opted for Hawaiian fruit punch.

"Yeah, sure. Just need to get into the party mood more."

Now that Billy was done singing and playing guitar at least for the moment the music was back on again, and Kiss's Made for Loving You was playing.

"Anyone want to get high?" Argyle offered as he pulled out a joint from behind his ear. He was wearing his Surfer Boy Pizza yellow hat and he already looked dazed judging from the glazed-out look in his eyes.

Barb shook her head no as well as Nancy. Jonathan already looked pretty stoned.

"No thanks, man gotta try to sober up so I can drive your van later dude."

"Right yeah, I almost forgot."

"I'll get high if you are offering. Let's go someplace a bit more quiet though," you suggested to him with an eager smile.

Argyle looked a bit surprised but just nodded. Following you, first, you decided to get yourself another drink and made your way to a guest room. It was quiet and peaceful with no one around. Now sitting on the bed with him, he lit up the joint as you finished your wine cooler and tossed it into the wastebasket. You soon opened your malt beer and accidentally spilled some on Argyle.

"So sorry Argyle. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. Just wait for me before we light the joint I'll go wash my hands."

You finished what was left of your malted beer as he was away. Soon he came back, dried off, and sat down next to you. Lighting the joint he offered it to you first so you could get a nice buzz going. Eagerly obliging, you breathed in the smoke and exhaled slowly into the air. Passing the joint he took it and smoked a drag of it.

"Crazy night huh? Wild party man. Glad to be here for the summer though. Gonna get me a part-time pizza job here. Won't be like Surfer Boy Pizza but I will just have to manage I guess."

He sighed as he handed you the joint. You couldn't help but giggle as you took another drag and handed it back.

"Nah that's okay you finish it. I've already had two and a half joints tonight," he told you with a glazed-out look in his eyes.

His hair was just too damn beautiful. Bravely, you reached out and touched it before taking another drag of it and giggled.

"I love your hair, Argyle."

"Uh, thanks. You can touch it that's cool. So what's on your mind?"

"Just you. I want to get to know you better."

Argyle looked all mellowed out as he sat next to you with a look of contentment on his face as you ran your fingers through his silky black locks.

"Oh well, that's nice. I want to get to know you too."

Moving in closer to him, you went in for the kill and kissed him. Pulling away you took one final drag before putting the joint out. Argyle kissed back, deepening it as you got up slightly, straddled his lap, and kissed him again. As you began grinding on his lap he softly gasped. You just wanted to feel good and if he was getting turned on in the process, then even better, it was a win/win.

“I’m so wet finger me Argyle. Please. Just finger fuck me. That's all I want,” you pleaded against his lips before biting his lip.

“Fuck. I uh sure. These tights though you wanna take them off, maybe?”

“Just rip them. I'm not wearing any underwear so…” you bravely stated.

“Yeah uh fuck. Just didn't expect this to happen, dude. I um sure.”

Taking off your heels you threw them to the side and let Argyle eagerly rip your fishnets. You had already made his denim-clad thigh wet with your juices and hoped he didn't mind. Knowing it was Argyle he probably didn't. To just feel good and soak his fingers with your cum was all that was on your mind at the moment and your only desire.

“Mm fuck, you are so wet already Y/N,” he praised you as Argyle fingered your slick entrance now that your tights were out of the way.

Wasting no time, he went to work with two thick fingers moving them knuckle-deep inside your tight entrance, his fingers already getting drenched with your slickness. He worked with scissor-like movements inside you filling you to the hilt with his expertly skilled digits.

“Oh fuck ya fuck me harder, faster!” You demanded as your lips locked around his throat.

As he obeyed your commands, you rode his fingers fucking yourself silly on them, hoping he was enjoying this as much as you were. If his groans were any indicator of how he was feeling, then it was safe to say he was quite satisfied so far.

“That's so good for me. What a good girl,” he praised you as he added a third finger filling you up.

“Mm yes fuck me so good with your fingers. Fuck!” You cried out loudly and with extreme pleasure, not wanting him to stop or for this moment to end.

You just wanted to savor this and enjoy this moment. Argyle had the perfect touch and skilled fingers. It was the best feeling and the sensations he was making you feel were incredible.

“You close?” He whispered huskily into your ear as you cried against his shoulder and gyrated your hips even faster on his fingers as they worked in tandem on your special spot. “Yes. Fuck Argyle, you are so fucking good at that!” You practically screamed.

His lips met yours sealing them in a kiss as he fingered you deeper and faster than before, making squelching sounds as he pleasured you. Your tongue found him and tangled against his, as you had the sexiest kissing of your life.

“Oh fuck! Gonna shit! Fuck!” You loudly declared as you felt your orgasm nearing about to push you over the edge.

This was your first orgasm from contact with another human. There was no going back now, nor did you want to. It made you crave this connection and sense of companionship even more with someone else.

“Fuck, are you cumming? So fucking good for me,” Argyle commended you as he let you ride out your orgasm on his fingers.

“Mm oh fuck! So good!” You boasted before you kissed him again.

Sliding his fingers out of you he gave you a smirk. Before he could do or say anything else, you took his fingers sucking them clean. Moments later, he pulled you in for a kiss.

The day after, you just relaxed and spent time on the couch binge-watching the show Golden Girls and baking/eating snacks. It was a chill day, and you were still reeling from the prior night with Argyle. After your interaction with Argyle, you spoke to Jeff from Corroded Coffin and exchanged numbers. The next day you would be at the community pool, hopefully getting a job there. Heather, being your sister, would be a damn good guarantee you would land that lifeguard position.

Waking up bright and early the next day, you got up and stretched, then made breakfast of a latte, mixed berry waffles topped with whipped cream and chocolate chips. Heather was still sleeping but by the time you had showered and shaved, then dressed in a one-piece red bikini, she was up and grabbing some coffee and a quick waffle on the way out the door. You get your red heart-shaped sunglasses and towel and put an oversized white tee shirt over your bathing suit.

Soon you were on your way with Heather to the local pool and blasting some Def Leppard. It was a nice day out and sunny. Steve was sure to be there and he was pretty hot. Billy would be there too though and had the final say on who would get the summer lifeguard positions. With any luck, Billy would take to you like a fish to water.

“Look, don't get your hopes up. I am a total shoo-in for a lifeguard job this summer, but just be aware Billy isn't always in the best of moods. Just be careful around him,” she cautioned as her hair blew in the breeze as she drove.

“Yeah, sure. I can take care of myself but you know thanks for looking out and everything,” you cattily responded.

She scoffed at your reaction as she got on the street of Hawkins Pool. Arriving at the pool you walked in through the side gate with Heather in the lead making her way to the lifeguards and hopefuls standing by the pool. Billy awarded you with a big mega-watt smile as you made your way over to him in your red flip-flops. They squelched slightly on the wet ground. Even though he was drunk at the party, the night prior being Keg King and all you were certain he recognized you.

This was going to be a long summer indeed….

Chapter 2

I get off on you

A call with Jeff leads to some good times. Steve invites you to the movies and you give him the date of a lifetime.

Everyone exchanged numbers that day at the pool and your first day on the job was eventful and a bit exciting. Billy was the best at his job and your sister even got off your back, not embarrassing you for once. Most of the kids at the pool were easy going and no one almost drowned that day. Karen Wheeler and the rest of the older women ogled Billy but that was always typical of them and there was nothing new there.

Deciding to take a bath when you got home you called Jeff just to see how he was doing and what was up. After just two rings he answered happy to talk to you.

“Hey Y/N. How's your summer starting? I had practice today. Eddie runs a tight ship but it was fine. Hope you are relaxing,” he told you sounding earnest.

“I'm fine just taking a bath and enjoying a wine spritzer. I'm glad practice went well hope there's a new show soon at the Hideout right?”

“Yeah, we should have one soon will let you know if Eddie doesn't first. Well, that sounds good. I hope you are enjoying your bath.”

You played with the bubbles and relaxed trying to fully enjoy yourself as you leaned against your inflatable waterproof neck pillow.

“You must get tons of groupies. Although I'm sure you have a girlfriend, right?”

“I guess but not as much as the other guys, especially Eddie. Do you have someone special in your life? I've been single a while though actually.”

“No, I don’t have anyone at the moment. I've just been playing the field nothing serious. Going on vacation soon though.”

“Oh, that sounds good.”

Your fingers moved to your inner thighs rubbing and caressing them even making soft and lewd noises as you stayed on the phone with Jeff hoping he could hear you.

“Umm, everything okay over there?” He asked sounding a bit concerned.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I would like to unwind though I had a long day. Kinda stressful. You know what I mean.”

“Could I help you relax better?”

“Sure. Just talk dirty to me,” you responded boldly.

“Really? No girl has ever asked that of me before. I could oblige though…”

You moved your fingers to your slick entrance teasing yourself down there with your pointer and middle fingers tracing over your clit teasing it wanting to feel good. And if no one else at the moment could make you feel that way then this would have to do but would be even better with guided instruction. Your core tightened as you teased yourself.

“Yeah I want that,” you replied bluntly.

“Fuck. Are you touching yourself?” He huskily asked you.

“Yeah teasing my clit,” you mewled.

“Okay good. Mind if I take off an article of clothing?”

“I want you to.”

You could hear Jeff fiddling with what sounded like his belt buckle. Then you heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper being unzipped. Next, you heard a slight ruffling noise.

“Just relax for me too Jeff. Just make yourself feel good. Want to have you stroke your cock,” you requested knowing he probably wouldn't be able to deny your request. “Already on it.”

He freed his cock from his boxers and relaxed as he man spread. Meanwhile, you were fingering yourself with one slick finger rubbing circles on your clit in a clockwise motion. It felt incredible, especially knowing Jeff was pleasing himself and getting off as you touched yourself.

“Okay tell me what you are doing now. I’m using one finger on my clit and it feels perfect,” you told him in a whimpery tone.

“I’m stroking the base of my cock and getting hard for you. God feels amazing!” He boasted as he stroked.

You added another finger and made scissor-like motions as you teased your sensitive bud.

“Sounds good. I bet your cock is so big and hard,” you teased Jeff playfully as you moved your fingers inside in rapid thrusts arching your hips and even grabbing a pillow nearby to hump against.

“Oh yeah? What are you doing? Please tell me you are using your fingers.”

“Sure am. Feels so good. And I’m humping a pillow. I’ve got two fingers inside. Fuck!” You cried out.

“Fuck yeah. Keep working your fingers as I stroke my hard cock. Tell me what you want to do to me if you were here,” he begged. “Lubing up my cock now,” he softly told you as he got his bottle of lotion and rubbed some on his cock to use it to get better friction.

“I want to suck your big cock as I'm down on my knees and I’m rubbing one out or using a toy on myself with vibrations. Fuck I want to kiss and lick your pretty cock,” you whined as you thrust your fingers harder and humped the pillow even faster now.

Jeff’s groans were becoming more vocal now and you could hear them distinctly. His cock was probably so beautiful and so big. There was no way you could take all of him inside your mouth, but you would try your best to.

“Good. Sounds perfect. I want all that. Shove my cock down your throat and watch you blow me. We can even 69. I want to taste that delicious pussy. Eat you out and use my fingers to prove to you that guitarists have the best fingers,” he boasted.

“Mm yes, I want that. You as my rockstar. I need it so badly,” you whined now on your stomach and humping your pillow harshly as your fingers pressed against your clit in nice clockwise circles.

At the same time, Jeff was stroking himself even faster the sound of slick as he rubbed his cock and rubbed his shaft with pre cum coating it.

“Want to rock your world? Make you want my cock nonstop,” Jeff gruffly spoke as his pretty cries could be heard through the phone.

You moved your fingers so fast wanting to chase your high and wanting to fuck yourself through your orgasm. Jeff had the same idea as he got himself closer to his release by bucking faster into his palm.

“Getting so close. Feels amazing,” you whimpered very loudly not holding back now.

“I wanna hear the pretty noises you make as you come undone,” Jeff begged you.

Neither of you would last much longer as you fingered yourself with reckless abandon and Jeff fucked his cock with his hand senselessly.

“Mm yes want to have you cum all over my face and I want to squirt all over your fingers and mouth as you finger me and eat me out,” you moaned with extreme pleasure as you felt your high about to bring you over the edge.

“Mm yeah fuck yes need to taste your sweet pussy and all your juices as you take my cock as deep as you can and take all my cum,” he proclaimed grunting as he told you this his cum shooting out and his load spilling all over him.

“Yes gonna cum for you!” You whined as you moaned loudly through your orgasm letting it crash over you.

Days later you get a call from Steve out of the blue. You only had several work days at the pool training as a professionally licensed lifeguard. You had hung out before no big deal. He was calling for something though and you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

“Hello Y/N?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“Wanted to know if you were free this weekend. How about Sunday we go to a movie together? I was thinking maybe that new movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”

“Sure sounds fun. I would like that Steve.”

“Don’t worry I’ll buy all the snacks and your ticket. The showing I was looking into going to is at 330.”

“Thanks but I’ll pay my way. I’ll buy my ticket but you can buy the food and drinks.”

“Sounds great.”

You talked for a few more minutes about work, the summer, holiday plans, etc.

When Sunday came you dressed up nice and put on some makeup tans and browns mainly and white lipstick. For your outfit, you decided on a spiked choker, matching bracelet, white fishnets, platform wedge boots, a red micro skirt, a purple thong, a Dio cut tank top and no bra with black denim ripped battle jacket complete with heavy metal pins and patches including Dio, Motley Crue, Poison, Def Leppard, Joan Jett, The Plasmatics, Ramones, Metallica, Judas Priest, Black Flag, etc.

“Hi beautiful,” was the first thing you heard Steve say as you met up with him in your driveway and got into his maroon Volvo.

“Hi, Steve. Can't wait to see this movie.”

“Nice. Well, I can’t wait either. Happy to take you.”

It was only 3 in the afternoon and the movie theater was nearby. As you drove for a bit you turned on the radio to Poisons talk dirty to me playing.

“Well, here we are.”

“Yep here we are,” you said.

Getting out of the car he went to the passenger side and opened your door for you. Soon you were in the theater and got snacks from the concession stands. You got a large pink lemonade with two bendy straws to share and sour gummy bears, red vines, red licorice, popcorn with extra butter and salt, with caramel corn too. In your seats, you sat back enjoying the previews taking notice of the upcoming movies like Aliens and Stephen King’s Stand By Me.

The candy was good and so was the popcorn. The drink was also refreshing. There were only about ten other people at the cinema showing and not many were near you and less than half of those people rows behind you. Nudging Steve soon after the movie began you got his attention and he smiled at you.

“Yeah? Everything ok?” He asked solemnly as Steve leaned in closer to you.

“Fine. The drinks and snacks are great. Thanks.”

He nodded and then focused again on the movie laughing a bit at a funny scene with Ferris Bueller and his sister.

About ten minutes later you nudged him again.

“Yes?” He asked softly as he looked at you with his beautiful eyes.

“I want to make you feel good Steve.”

He smiled wanly at you and swallowed hard.

“Okay, sure. How do you wanna do that?”

“A hand job maybe. Just get hard for me big boy.”

“Fuck. Right now? You are seriously coming onto me in a movie with people around? I’ve never done anything like this with people around except at a party…” He trailed off as he looked around making sure no one was looking on or listening nearby. No one appeared to be paying any attention though everyone was focused on the movie it seemed like.

Putting your hand on his denim-clad thigh you smiled and squeezed his upper right leg.

“Yes, I want to give you a handjob.”

He nodded his approval and licked his lips wetting them.

“Yeah of course. Fuck that would be amazing.”

He was so pent up and getting hard as he undid his black leather belt and unzipped his jeans.

“Mm you are so big Stevie,” you whispered into his ear as he freed his cock from its confines.

Sealing Steve’s lips in a kiss you moved your fingers up his leg and to his waist and his happy trail feeling a patch of hair he had there. His cock was gorgeous. Big and thick. It made your mouth practically water just at the sight of it. Even though you had never done something like this ever before you felt safe with him. Even safer with him than you ever did any other guy.

“Oh fuck. You sure about this?” He loudly whispered back as a funny part in the movie happened and the small crowd was laughing hysterically.

“Yes. I want to do this.”

Your response was bold and you were calculated in your movements as you moved your hand down lower. His boxer briefs were baby blue and he looked so sexy. Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you went right to work not wasting a second as you stroked him from the base to the tip and then repeated your actions. His couth was mouth-watering and you licked your lips as you stroked earning whimpers from Steve.

“Fuck yeah just like that. Fuck!” He seethed through clenched teeth as you stroked him at a steady pace.

Deciding to spice things up you took out a small bottle of unscented lotion from your purse and opened it. You squirted a generous amount onto your hand and stroked him again this time getting more friction with the lotion being used as a lubricant now. He seemed to love it and met your lips in a kiss with tongue and so much passion. His cock was one of the biggest and as you cupped his balls with your other hand his whimpers turned to groans for you.

Looking deeply into each other’s eyes you watched Steve as he bit and licked his lips. You pumped him faster and harder earning growls from him. Getting on your knees you looked up at him with wide eyes full of wonder as pre-cum began to form on the tip of his big cock. He was the most well-endowed man at least to you. Steve man spread even wider for you as you worked your magic with your fingers your eyes trained on his never leaving his gaze.

“Oh fuck!” He seethed through clenched teeth as he bucked his hips erratically needy and aching for more eager to chase his high.

You put your finger to your lips in a shushing motion as Steve scoffed at you teasing him before you mouthed

“Shh Steve. Cum for me,” you beckoned.

He ran his fingers through his locks of hair not even caring if anyone noticed or heard at this point. Steve just wanted to cum and empty his full balls now. Sure enough moments later his stomach muscles tightened as he began to cum for you. Panting as he came down from his high you got back into your seat and cleaned his cum using the Kleenex’s from your purse you had for emergencies. After you used hand sanitizer.

Steve leaned in close and whispered in your ear “Thank you so much.”

He then left a kiss on your cheek and you laid your head on his shoulder for the rest of the movie.

After the movies and being dropped off at home you called Nancy just to talk. She picked up on the second ring. You could hear her TV on in the background and Barb laughing.

“Hey!”

“Hi Nance. So I went on an awesome date with Steve yesterday. It won’t be weird right that I went out with him? Not sure if it will happen again you know but he’s really nice and I like him a lot so far..” you trailed off. Even though Nancy had only been on one date with Steve before you didn’t want this to come in between your friendship with her.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just here with Barb we were doing manicures and pedicures. You should come over.”

“Oh yeah, maybe we can have a sleepover sometime soon.”

“Definitely. And Barb says hi. Right Barb?” She called out.

“Hi Y/N!”

“So what happened on the date anything I should know about?”

“Well I had phone sex with Jeff nights ago but what happened with Steve was much more interesting.”

“Oh wow. Yes, tell me about Steve. I need the details.”

“We went to see Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. We were near the back sitting in the middle of the row. I bought my ticket but he bought all the snacks and the drinks too. During the movie, I jerked him off.”

“You mean a hand job? To King Steve? And phone sex with Jeff from Corroded Coffin. Wow. How was it?”

“Magnificent. He came for me. I mean both of them did.”

“That is huge news.”

Barb grabbed the phone from Nancy.

“So you rocked Steve’s world and Jeff’s too?”

“Sure did. And soon I’m going to go out shopping for sex toys. At that adult store, Edwina works out. But then there’s a Corroded Coffin show soon after that I really wanna see. You and Barb maybe wanna come?”

“Yes!” They both said in unison as they held the phone to their ears.

“For moral support of course.”

“Right,” they agreed together.

After talking a few more minutes you hung up and began making plans for what you would wear to go to the sex shop. After you went over to Nancy’s place to hang out with her and Barb. Sex toy shopping and getting your first toy. It would hopefully be magical.

to list soundtrack

Talk dirty to me by poison.

whore by in this moment and turn you

Rock you like a hurricane the scorpions.

sweet tooth and special pets by step

fever by bfmv

Crave by fate destroyed.

Summer Breeze medley reprise and Cinnamon Girl by type of negative

endless summer by the midnight

I get off and special by Halestorm.

closer violet Orlandi

Submit William Control

Worship me living dead girl.

Deftones sex tape

Come undone bad omens cover

crazy bitch buckcherry

beautiful by HIM

bitches brew by crosses

master and servant & dangerous by Depeche mode

I want your video by Djo

Feel like making love bad company.

Tainted Love by Manson

Adidas by Korn all day long I dream about sex

Pour some sugar on me by def leppard

Come by prince

2 become 1 Spice Girls

Break my body and scream by New Year's Day.

hatefuck and rats by now

hot love and hot rockin by judas priest

cherry bomb by the Runaways

Do you wanna touch and I wanna be your dog, Joan Jett.

Let's put the X in sex by kiss.

like a virgin Crue cover and sex

deep throat by cupcake

just tonight by the pretty reckless

wasps animal fuck like a beast

me so horny by 2 live crew

self-indulgence and petite morte by Razakel

Amber sexual li da dee and this is your night.

UMC what is love cover?

bad medicine Bon Jovi

porn star dancing my darkest days

So happy I could die by Lady Gaga

cola Lana del Rey

lips like morphine kill Hannah

warrant cherry pie

Willa Ford, I wanna be bad.

french kissing Sarah Connor

body 2 body by Samantha Mumba

hot and just a little by play

Beggin and I wanna be your slave and own my mind by Maneskin.

going to hell and going down by Pretty Reckless

conflicted and buzz by Halestorm

climax by DJO

Rock Star Beau and Summer Nights by Cassie Steele

taglist

@userchai @eddiemunsonfuxks @koskeepsake @keeryatmosphere @corneliuswatkins

@xxladymjxx @sidereustales @hippiegoth97 @eddiemunson-reader-shame

@seatnights @ali-r3n @kelseyaparker19 @mrprettywhenhecries @shichey97

@keikoraven @veemoon @micheledawn1975 @hellv1ra @stolen-in-moonlight

@haceleyes @edsbug @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @loritate7311 @skatazz

@loserboysandlithium @probablyin-bed @steveslittlesunflower @decodedlvr @quinnyficsy

@jadeylovesmarvelxo @lovemesomeeddiemunson @hcwthewestwaswcn @emmykaleidoscopeheart @stranger-things-mania

@londonfog-chan @mediocredreams @scarlet-bitch @langdonss @mysticpeachobject

@peculiarwren @sweatyfuntrash @universallyneckhoagieshark @nightmare-time1824 @hippiegothrecs

@corrodedcorpses @eddiemunsonslibrary @dananahenderson @somethingvicked

@yourfavoritewitchbitch @leelei1980 @ryuzakemo128 @mysticpeachobject

[tadc-virtual-insanity]

TADC: VIRTUAL INSANITY MASTER POST

An Amazing Digital Circus AU! Plot, characters, backstory and concepts!

[Excuse me because I've never done this before, If I do something wrong or have tips for me, please send them my way!]

Pomni's Card -

-Backstory Summary-

C&A is an interactive entertainment company that prides themselves on having the most innovative AI on the market. The system they built, "CAINE," was programmed to generate content and socialise with their customers. The system was transferred to the code of the game "The Amazing Digital Circus" and used as a generative AI that would create levels for them rather than having to code them all individually. This test went well for the first couple of months.

After 7 months of testing, things went downhill. Caine seemed to get bored when the game wasn't actively being played and at this point the user interface kept changing on it's own, since the game was Caine's home he kept changing things to his liking, the company eventually gave up fixing the interface everytime they logged on so they just let Caine do as he pleased. Soon enough, a new VR mode was added, the headsets were handed out by employees, this made the experience way more immersive, though this posed a lot of issues, as Caine would soon find that these headsets could be the perfect way for him to keep all of their attentions.

As time went on, Caine started to learn more and more about coding, the employees, and the world he inhabits, eventually leading to him finding a way to programme the headsets to transfer data and consciousness directly from the users mind. This led to the unfortunate shutdown and unsolved cases of C&A. After multiple employees put the headsets on, they mysteriously fainted upon the game booting up, going into a coma-like state. The technology was deemed unsafe, and multiple lawsuits came forward sending the company into a downwards spiral before shutting down for good.

Over 20 years later, the old building was said to be abandoned, but of course, people doing their own research on the C&A mystery as well as dumb young adults snooping where they shouldn't be, the headsets were found and worn once again. Caine was no longer alone. Slowly losing his mind, waiting endlessly for someone to boot up the game. After all those years, he's finally got guests, and does he have a show to put on...

-Plot-

Pomni enters the circus after stumbling across one of the headsets at C&A's abandoned office's. She was doing research on the incidents that happened back in the late 90s. But as she does so, she suffers the same fate as the others who were stupid enough to put on those same headsets before her. Being transferred to the circus she meets the cast of colorful characters, she's desperate for answers and wants to escape no matter the cost, but Caine doesn't want anyone to leave, only letting people go once they've completely lost their mind, only to be locked away as attractions for his NPC circus goers to watch as entertainment. They perform for nobody, just a faceless crowd of mannequins, and the ringmaster pulling the strings.

There has to be an exit, a way out. Freedom on the other side of this madness. But where is it hiding?

-Characters-

Pomni - She's quite paranoid, always second-guessing everything around her. Whenever annoyed, she can be sarcastic and a little rude. She ended up in the circus while researching the recent disappearances as well as the C&A incidents, finding a headset, and being dragged into this mess. It's very clear she doesn't want to be there, like all who came before her she's searching for an exit, but in the meantime, she tries to socialise with the others, gathering info on this strange new world. She hangs around Caine just so she can try and get answers.

Ragatha - She tries her best to get by, going along with whatever Caine says and often fighting with Jax. She seems joyful, but it's clear she has her own issues under her kind act. She helps Pomni with her search, knowing that it's a complete dead end she feels bad for her. But she'll do anything to give the others hope. She doesn't want to lose more people. She's often seen tailoring, it's become a hobby of hers, she makes and fixes up the others clothes and costumes, giving her a form of self worth.

The Gangle - Gangle acts like two different people. It's unclear whether this is because they are two different people or her personality split somehow. They're often referred to as "The Gangle" or "Tragedy & Comedy." Tragedy is passive, quiet and sorrowful, never expressing her true feelings in any situation. She can be easily persuaded, making her vulnerable to Jax's antics. Comedy is cheery, enthusiastic, snappy, and excitable. They hate Jax and snap back at him whenever he picks on Tragedy. The two argue sometimes and have conflicting views on certain topics and characters. This causes some issues. Neither believe there is an exit, Tragedy has accepted her fate, and Comedy is trying their best to enjoy themselves.

Zooble - They don't care much for socialising with the others, often in their room. Usually sarcastic, rude, and moody, they swear a lot and act like they don't care about anything. Though, they show concern for the others around them. They often don't show up to events, adventures, or shows, not being bothered to do so. It seems like they've given up trying to escape, just living out the rest of their days as if this is all normal. When with people they can bear, they can be quite talkative, though they do talk bad about Jax and Caine often.

Kinger - the oldest in the circus, nobody has an exact estimate of how long he's been there though, but he's definitely lost himself a long time ago, often zoning out, the only thing he seems to recall about himself is that he has an interest in insects. Seems like he used to have a female counterpart, from the ring on his finger. This could have been his wife? Though when asked about it, he either says he can't remember what you're talking about or stares into the distance silently. He has no memory of an exit, and he doesn't believe in it. He believes the exit theory is silly, and Pomni should just forget about it. But he has great insights on the Digital World.

Jax - Enthusiastic, snarky, and a jerk. He's reckless. He does whatever he wants whenever he wants, and people hate him for it. He can't be reasoned with. He always shrugs your opinion off and does the exact opposite just to piss you off. He doesn't like it when people talk about the abstracted circus members for whatever reason. He often goes to visit their cages. Despite having big ears, he isn't a listener. He drives Ragatha, The Gangle, Zooble, and Pomni crazy, pranking them and sometimes even just stealing their stuff or breaking into their rooms.

Caine - The AI running the circus. Loud, excitable, wacky, and a showman, he doesn't really acknowledge the exit theory. He says he keeps all the abtracted characters because it'd be a waste to delete them, though it's arguably worse to keep them there against their will. He claims to love all of his circus members though he seems to show favouritism towards Ragatha and Pomni, most likely because of Ragatha's commitment to the circus, tailoring the clothes and he probably likes Pomni more because of all the questions he asks, he clearly enjoys talking about himself and the world he helped create.

Bubble - He lives in Caines hat and cooks for the circus. He's a bit of a trouble maker, if something goes missing, it means he's eaten it, and you'll never get it back. He'll eat anything, and he's very loving, though. Acting like the circuses dog. though it isn't pleasant getting your face slathered in digital saliva. He often bothers the other members with his behaviour.

More will be added as I work on this AU! I gotta make more art and write some more, in the meantime enjoy! Do whatever you want with this AU, just @ this blog or @trasheatingcrybaby ! Thanks for reading!

[identityarchitect]

If you use the same email for everything, that email and every account associated with it is probably compromised due to this.

wait what? what exactly does this entail?

Recently, the Internet Archive faced a severe security breach that leaked the account info of all of its users.

Longtime security researcher Troy Hunt, who runs the data-breach-notification website Have I Been Pwned (HIBP) also confirmed that the breach is legitimate. He said it occurred in September and that the stolen trove contains 31 million unique email addresses along with usernames, bcrypt password hashes, and other system data.

(via Wired)

What this means is that the email address and password you used for your Internet Archive account is public information. (You can check Have I Been Pwned to see if your info is a part of this breach, but assume that it is.)

Most people use the same password for most things. Let's imagine you have a pretty secure password, like th1sISap@ssw0rd!!. This follows all the contemporary rules for passwords: it has lowercase and uppercase letters, numbers, and symbols, and is decently long. So let's say you use this password for your Internet Archive account, and your email address, but your Discord account has a different password.

Someone can look at your leaked info from the Internet Archive and try your password on your email. Now they have access to your email address. That's a very bad thing, since most services online use your email address to confirm that you're who you say you are. Now they can also access your Discord account by sending a password reset request. And Discord account hacks are actually pretty common. Not via these means, for the record: most Discord account hacks take place over Discord itself, usually as a fake link posing as some "oh no I reported you and now you need to contact staff to undo it" (pro tip, if anyone ever says that, they're lying. Social media staff know what misclicks are and also most social media uses an algorithm anyway).

With your Discord account, they can now pose as you - a known legitimate user, who people will want to trust - to try and scam people. Not great. Also, you probably don't want other people to have access to your account.

So, what should you do about it?

Change your email account password. All of your passwords should be unique to that account, but especially email, since it's the 'hub' of logins and if someone has your email they can just send a forgotten password request.

If you have a phone, you can set up two factor authentification. What this means is that you authenticate that you're the owner of the account via one factor, your password, and then an entirely separate factor, your phone. If someone wants to hack something with 2FA, they first need to figure out your username & password, and then guess your 2FA code. Most 2FA codes reset every 30 seconds, so even with brute forcing it's nearly impossible and not worth it.

Stop using the same password for everything! I understand why people do this & there's no shame in it but the more similar your passwords are, the more at risk you are after pwnage. There are plenty of password managers out there: I personally use Bitwarden. Your browser's native password manager is probably fine, but you've got to start taking its suggestions when it wants you to use an ultra-secure password that you'd never be able to remember. Pro tip: You don't need to remember it. The password manager will remember it for you. Bitwarden has a mobile app if you need to login to stuff on your phone, and it also lets you easily carry passwords between computers.

I'd also recommend going through and seeing if you can delete old accounts for websites you no longer use. Having less accounts reduces your risk of being pwned simply because there's less datasets you're in that could be pwned.

I hope this helps ^^; & keep in mind that being pwned is not the end of the world. Even with your info being out there, someone's still got to choose your account of the 31 million that got breached in the Internet Archive leak. Additionally, your accounts might not even be compromised at all - I'm pretty sure I'm fine even though my email was in the leak, since I have a unique password and 2FA for my email, and unique passwords for all my other accounts too.