#( pov 004 )

[nemesiseyes]

WE CAN'T GO TO HELL IF WE'RE ALREADY THERE.

featuring: @silencehq @sinestbrook @kretina @melisezgin @lleccmte @stcnecoldd

tw: morte, ferimentos.

Se fosse um telespectador da própria tragédia, talvez estaria rindo, incrédulo. Condenou-se antes mesmo de saber o outro nome dado ao inferno, quando era só um menino, e tinha certeza de que seria arrastado até lá, seja lá como fosse, porque era o que merecia. Só não esperava ter companhia.

Quando aterrissou bruscamente, mordeu a língua. O gosto ferroso instantâneamente incomodando, enquanto as mãos tentavam encontrar os óculos que havia perdido antes de chegar ao fundo. Notou, através da visão periférica, que todos os outros pareciam bem, exceto por um. Distante dos demais, e cercado por um líquido escuro. Imediatamente sentiu o coração acelerar, tropeçando nos próprios passos urgentes até encontrar Brooklyn. Quieto. Parado. Com os olhos abertos e encarando o vazio, sem sinal de vida restante ao corpo. Não. Chamou Katrina e Arthur, procurando o pulso no corpo gelado demais para alimentar suas esperanças. Mas ainda não queria acreditar.

Na falha tentativa de trazê-lo de volta a vida, a mente foi inundada por memórias. Céus, ele detestava Brooklyn, não houve um único momento em que se deram bem. Por anos havia sido hostil, propositalmente implicante e extremamente dedicado a alimentar um sentimento que, agora, soava como a maior idiotice que poderia ter cometido. Mas talvez, se ele desse a Brooklyn um motivo para recuperar a vida, um último empurrão, uma última alfinetada, ele voltaria a respirar, não? Ele se levantaria, prestes a xingá-lo por ter sido um babaca. Precisava tentar. Precisava fazer alguma coisa, qualquer coisa. Então, retirou os óculos. Seu poder era destrutivo e nada bom realmente saía de seu uso, mas, talvez, pudesse trazê-lo de volta pela audácia, por ousar feri-lo quando estavam no submundo, e então, com toda certeza Tadeu lidaria com seu ódio, porque significava que o sangue ainda fervia em suas veias. Entretanto, quando encarou as iris opacas do filho de Dionísio, não viu nada. Porque o olhar de penitência não funcionava nos mortos. Eles não tinham mais consciência. ❛ Ele está... ━━━━━ Ia responder à Melis, que parecia desesperada, mas não terminou, porque escutou a voz. Entretanto, o corpo ainda não se movia.

Acatou aos comandos de Brooklyn, porque não iria contrariar o que era seu último desejo, o último esforço. Sua última atitude de herói. Quando correu, se certificou de que todos estavam ali também. Aurora parecia especialmente ferida e só agora tinha se dado conta disso. Arthur não parecia tão ferido quanto ela, e, pensou em ajudar as meninas que traziam consigo o corpo de Brooklyn, mas sabia que não poderiam se dar ao luxo de carregar aquele peso enquanto tentavam salvar as próprias vidas, por mais cruel que fosse a dura realidade, isso só os mataria mais rápido.

Não sabia onde estavam indo, mas tentou indicar o caminho que parecia mais limpo, uma saída que não terminasse em batalha, um lugar onde pudessem entrar e não ser seguidos por criaturas mortais. Submundo, não é? Em suas paranóias mais íntimas, se perguntava se Nêmesis estava gostando do que via, se era o que ela achava que ele merecia, já que era dela todo o julgamento, ou, ao menos, se ela sentia o quão profundo era o seu ressentimento. Mas, ainda mais no fundo, clamava por socorro, como uma criança procurando os pais. Para alguém que já havia visto tantos horrores, cujo castigo era nunca se esquecer, a sensação de pânico era nova, e era sua, não apenas um eco dos sentimentos vivenciados nas visões das vítimas dos seus olhos. Vinha com a incerteza de que iriam escapar, e o desespero de serem caçados um a um, até não sobrar ninguém. A fenda estava fechada. O que iriam fazer? Ninguém poderia salvá-los, apenas eles poderiam garantir a sobrevivência um do outro até que surgisse esperança. Talvez Tadeu merecesse o submundo, mas, se precisasse garantir que nenhum dos demais ficassem presos no inferno, daria tudo de si. E, se era isso que os deuses achavam que ele merecia também, então seria pirracento, e sairia de lá.

[wayneverso]

Existe algo tremendamente cruel em perceber que o mundo não para só porque alguém se foi. 

featuring @primeirochale.

Em sua cabeça, Evelyn podia pensar em inúmeras descrições para o luto. Ele é todo o amor sem um lugar para ir. É o amor que perdura. Um lugar que não se vê. Seria simples encontrar descrições genéricas para uma perda, a parte realmente difícil era a individualidade. Para ela, luto significava não ver mais sentido em tudo que um dia foi… Estável. Fixo. Uma certeza. Estava nas lembranças boas se tornando preto e branco na memória. Estava em achar que eram parecidos, com seus olhos coloridos e o cabelo no mesmo tom, muitas vezes se perguntou se seriam confundidos como irmãos biológicos se fossem vistos na rua, ou como seria se realmente fossem filhos dos mesmos pais. Ela também o via por todo o chalé, em todas as coisas, em cada espaço vazio. Ele estava no cheiro do vinho que não queria mais tomar, e também quando se olhava no espelho, transformando a diversão das feições felinas em um aperto no coração. Brooklyn vivia nos arrependimentos ilógicos, e nos cenários criados em sua cabeça, de todas as vezes em que deveria ter dito que o amava.

Mas ele sabia que ela o amava, não sabia? Ele sabia que a assombraria de agora em diante? 

Naquele dia, quando se despediu oficialmente, após ficar tremendamente calada durante toda a cerimônia, enfrentou a vontade de vomitar e se embriagou de propósito, e vagou sozinha até o chalé, ignorando qualquer ajuda, qualquer condolência e qualquer amigo que lhe dirigisse a palavra. Ela não se importava com nenhum deles agora e, se fossem insistentes, não receberiam mais do que um único aviso para ser deixada em paz. Cambaleou até a porta do quarto do conselheiro, ela entrou como se fosse seu espaço. Não era. Também não era mais de Brooklyn. Mas era onde ficaria aquela noite. Quando Gabriel Milles chegou, mais preocupado do que impondo qualquer coisa, foi recebido com rejeição instantânea. ❛ Vá embora. ━━━━━ A frase saiu enrolada, ele não respeitou o pedido. Pelo contrário, aproximou-se da cama, onde Winters estava agarrada ao travesseiro, agora, com os olhos abertos. Ele tentou dizer algo, mas foi interrompido pelo brilho amarelado dos olhos de Eve, o som que saiu de sua garganta sequer parecia humano. Na verdade, há tempos Evelyn não parecia tão monstruosa.  ❛ Vai. Embora. Esse quarto não é seu, é dele! É dele. Vá embora, Gabe. ━━━━━ O grito ensandecido também soava diferente. Era tão raivoso quanto desesperador. Dado por vencido, seu irmão saiu, lhe abandonando no escuro. Era quase reconfortante. Podia fingir e nega a realidade. No escuro não existia nada, então lhe pertencia um mundo inteiro na imaginação. 

Quando dormiu pela primeira vez, teve um pesadelo.

trigger warning: body horror.

Era isso que você queria, não era? Foi isso que você escolheu. A voz da mãe ecoou em sua cabeça, e, do escuro do quarto, só conseguia ver seus grandes olhos castanhos e seu sorriso entre a penumbra. Uma guerreira! Você só se importa com suas guerras, Eve. Se esqueceu que é isso que acontece em uma guerra? A voz continuava, e ela sabia que era um efeito colateral do dia das visões. Você não é especial só porque acha que é. Brooklyn também não foi. Evelyn não se movia. Não conseguia fazer nada além de observar com horror, como se estivesse em uma paralisia do sono. E então, Emory lhe mostrou a queda de Brooklyn, da maneira como sua mente imaginava que havia sido. O som do corpo aterrizando bruscamente no fundo de um buraco a assustou, mas ela ainda não conseguia se mover. Está se perguntando se doeu? Ressurgiu a voz. Será que doeu quando a cabeça dele rachou? 

fim do trigger warning.

Finalmente acordou, e imediatamente voltou a chorar.  ❛ Por favor, volta. Ainda temos tantas coisas pra fazer. Eu não me importo se você está em paz, eu preciso que você volte. ━━━━━ Sussurrou baixo, cansada e sentindo os efeitos colaterais da ressaca. Queria sumir. Queria seu irmão. Adormeceu. 

O sonho começou gentil dessa vez. Entretanto, a partir dali, os domínios de Morfeu seriam tudo, menos gentis com ela.

CONTINUA.

[enjomo-arch]

(  flame  command  ━━  unprompted  :  monkey d. luffy  )   //    [  ♠ @goreburdened  ]

"ace, when did you get so tall?!" luffy crowds his brother, clinging to both of the freckled brunet's knees. his straw hat keeps flopping in his eyes & he fusses over it, not wanting to obscure his vision as luffy peers up at ace with his now reverted back baby face. he looks at ace like he hung the sun, child-esque excitement palpable in the air. "I wanna be taller than you when I'm older!" he insists with a pout.

ace  stood  as  if  he  had  been  glued  into  the  ground.  his  big  brown  eyes  growing  even  more  the  longer  he  watched  the  wandering  kid  around  his  legs.  his  eyebrows  raised  and  breath  stuck  within  his  throat  when  the  little  guy  hugged  his  knees,  which  he  could  barely  reach  with  his  own  height.  the  fire  fist  was  like  frozen  in  time  for  a  moment,  before  redness  began  spreading  over  his  face  from  the  buzzing  excitement  boiling  like  hot  blood  in  his  veins.  ace  exploded  like  a  bomb  in  a  second.  reaching  immediately  for  his  little  brother,  hands  hooking  under  the  boy's  armpits  to  raise  him  high  as  a  gigantic  grin  spread  over  ace's  freckled  features.  

❝  luffy,  luffy,  luffy  !  ❞  

the  pirate  chanted  like  a  prayer.  may  the  sea  god  help  him  before  he  collapsed  here  from  the  incredible  joy  he  felt.  he  hugged  the  little  brother  to  his  chest,  strong  arms  tightly  holding  him  as  ace  almost  squeezed  the  living  crap  out  of  him  as  if  luffy  was  a  mere  plushie  to  him.  ❝  you're  so  cute  holy  shit  luffy.  my  little  lovely  brother  !!!  ❞  if  ace  hadn't  been  so  busy  dying  from  the  cuteness,  he  would  have  swear  he  started  to  feel  tears  picking  on  the  corners  of  his  eyes.  he  was  this  close  to  start  sobbing  from  how  adorable  luffy  is.  ❝  you  gonna  grow  up  to  be  the  tallest  pirate,  believe  me  !  ❞  the  fire  fist  squeezed  him  tighter  in  his  bicep,  almost  cutting  off  his  little  brother's  air  to  breathe. he didn't ask questions, not when his mind was blown away with how cute his brother is.

[rafeysbangs]

lachesism , rafe cameron ( series )

pairing ; brother's!bestfriend!rafe x kook!female!reader

content ; mdni !! outerbanks au, eventual smut, angst, violence, family issues, substance abuse, s/a.

summary ; rafe cameron is everything you can’t stand; reckless, infuriating, and too self-assured for his own good. as your brother’s best friend, he’s always been a constant presence, one you’ve done your best to ignore. but the tension between you has always simmered just beneath the surface, sharp and impossible to ignore. you’ve spent years resisting his pull, refusing to give him the satisfaction. but in a world where lines blur and control slips away, you’re forced to face the truth: rafe cameron isn’t so easy to hate after all.

status ; ongoing .ᐟ

─ navigation , table of contents

✺ 001. 002. 003. 004. 005. 006. 007. 008. 009. 010.

─ extras

series playlist & kelce's party playlist

notes ; this fic has already been written and uploaded to my wattpad. it is not yet finished on there either but i have decided it will be unpublished & i will be uploading on here instead since i don't use wattpad anymore. however this fic has been altered to fit second person pov so please bare with me !

to be added to the ; lachesism taglist

[chevxyn]

CONFLICT = CHEMISTRY!

in which you and sae got into a lil conflict outside a football stadium & the paparazzi’s made a false statement that the two of you are dating.

an itoshi sae smau series.

celebrity!singer!you, mature language, slowburn, fake dating.

written or half written is marked with a (w)

status : completed. (25/01/25 - 02/02/25.)

character introductions.

[name]’s group, sae’s group.

act i.

001. encounter (w)

002. “we made it to the news!”

003. oh shit.

004. reaching out?

005. an idea to fix it

006. genuine apology

007. theories

008. desperate attempts

009. delete

010. invitation!

act ii.

011. biggest mistake

012. otp!! (his pov)

013. discussion

014. an actual plan?

015. thoughts?

016. concerns

017. scattered mind

018. planned for tomorrow

019. first date (w)

020. heartfelt thanks

act iii.

021. sae[name] canon!

022. news released

023. unexpected pm

024. whoops

025. argument (w)

026. emo boy

027. the truth

028. itoshi rin is ringing.. (w)

029. brother’s fight

030. doubts (w)

act. iv

031. homies’ help

032. amusement park (w)

033. denial (his pov) (w)

034. park review

035. positive reactions

036. deeptalk (w)

037. aftermath

038. a love song?

039. ideas (w)

040. cooked

act. v

041. i’m busy

042. cannot be saved

043. in love era (his pov)

044. disaster (w)

045. oh (his pov) (w)

046. oh (your pov) (w)

047. loss hope (w)

048. regrets (w)

049. new album!

050. puzzles.

©chevxyn

[velocesainz]

Listeeeen well read but… I love angst so. Any driver you want… where the reader has a miscarriage. Yeah if is too much I’m sorry I leave now

Kissies ✨

A/n: This sounds super interesting! I hope you like it I also apologise for taking so long, I kinda forgot and also had exams. Kissies ✨

Our Lost Family

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: You end up having a miscarriage and you become super depressed after losing the baby, Lando gets fed up of your moping. Will this ruin your marriage forever?

Warnings: very angstyyy, sad

Pairing: Lando x wife!pregnant!reader

Part 2

Y/n pov:

It was a normal day, well as normal as it can be when you’re pregnant.

I got out of bed and went down the stairs to get started on breakfast for Lando and I.

Finishing up breakfast I set the table and called Lando to join me.

“How’s the little one feeling” Lando asked me touching my stomach tenderly.

“There’s a little discomfort but overall seems to be doing pretty well in my opinion” I replied and he looked at me with a soft smile.

We chatted about plans for the rest of the day as we ate and then went on about our plans finishing off the busy day with a nice calm dinner at home.

“Baby?” Lando called out as I was setting up the table.

“Yes love? What happened?” I asked.

“I have this weird nagging feeling that there’s something that is going to go wrong and I just can’t get it to stop” Lando confessed and that got me thing.

I have also felt an odd feeling similar to how Lando described it.

“I have also had this feeling, I don’t know what it is but it feels very serious” I told him and his face grew increasingly worried.

“Baby, I want you to know, no matter what happens to us or the baby I will always love you. Nothing will get me to love you less” Lando said and that made me both worried and a little calm at the same time.

Timeskip:

I was sitting at home watching tv and eating a simple salad when my stomach started to hurt extremely badly.

I saw blood pooling at my feet and I knew immediately that I was having a miscarriage, having heard so much about the experience from my mom who had had 2 miscarriages.

I immediately dialled Lando’s number but he didn’t pick up.

I dialled my mom number and she came in a few minutes and took me to the hospital.

Lando pov:

I was in a meeting when y/n repeatedly called which was odd for her as she knows my schedule and knows not to call when I’m busy.

I ignored her calls and put my phone one silent.

Timeskip:

I got home to find nobody around.

There was an eerie silence.

I walked to the bedroom in hopes of finding y/n sleeping but to no avail.

I went into the living room and found a pool of blood at the base of the couch.

My heart sank to my stomach.

Was this why she was calling?

Oh god is she alright??

I called y/n only to find that she left her phone here in the house

I thought of calling her mother, maybe she had taken her to the hospital?

When I called she immediately picked and her voice frantically said “Lando! Thank god your done, please come to x hospital immediately! I’m afraid y/n is having a miscarriage”

My brain was spiralling but I managed to get my keys and drive to the hospital.

When I entered the hospital is when I was met with the sight of y/n’s mother, sitting on a chair with her head in her hands.

“Mum?” I called out to her

Her head immediately snapped towards my direction and she sprinted over “Oh Lando My baby she’s in danger, her baby’s in danger I don’t know what to do” she cried.

“Don’t worry mum, she’ll be fine, she’s one of the strongest people I’ve met” I told her mum to try and calm her down.

“I guess you’re right, she is quite the resilient kind” she sighed out sadly.

Timeskip:

The doctor finally came out and came up to me and yn’s mum.

“You must be Mrs Norris’s family. She’s fine but significantly weaker. The baby however…did not make it. I’m so sorry for your loss, you can visit her now. She’s in room 004.”

When the doctor said this my heart sank to my stomach. We both had tried so hard to have a kid together and when she finally got pregnant she ended up having a miscarriage. I don’t know how I will face her after this pain.

I walked into the room and found her lying on the bed sleeping peacefully, if only life was going the way it was.

“Hey love, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. If only I had picked up your call, our child would’ve been alive with us” I spoke softly into her hair as I held her close.

She woke up in a panic “WHAT HAPPENED?? IS MY BABY OK? Lando ANSWER ME”

I didn’t know what to say to her so I just kept my head down and I guess she understood what I was trying to say. She broke down into sobs.

“My poor baby, I didn’t even get to see you. How am I to continue without you” she kept on repeating to herself and my heart kept breaking into smaller pieces with every word.

Timeskip:

Y/n’s been so incredibly depressed ever since the miscarriage. She can barely get out of bed in the morning and struggles to do basic tasks.

I love her but this is getting way too much. I mean, it’s just a baby, we can always try for another one.

I walked into the living room to see y/n lying on the couch with a blank stare on her face.

“Y/n?” I called out to her and she slowly turned towards me

“Y/n this is not healthy. It’s just a baby, it’s not the end of the world. We can always try for another one. Right now I’m fed up of you not doing anything but moping around and acting like the world has collapsed on you” I spoke fast.

Looking at her glossy eyes and hurt face should have told me that what I did was wrong but I didn’t realise

“Do you know how much this baby meant to me Lando? Do you know? After months of trying I finally got pregnant and I just lost the baby and you’re telling me to just “get over it”? Do you even hear yourself? I’m absolutely disappointed in your understanding. I’m leaving.” She yelled and walked out of the house.

What have I done?

Part 2?

A/n: I would love to get your guys feedback and also please send me any requests you’d like to see since I’m done with exams and have a bunch of free time. Kissies ✨

[zumicho]

home┊002┊004

003: monsters under the bed

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

────────────────────────

[ RINTARO POV ]

“do you think we’re bad people?”

she stumbles into my room, dispatching yellow tinted light to disrupt the peaceful darkness of my sleep. If she were a different person, it would’ve been a problem. It’s unexplainable why I can’t bring myself to treat her the same way I treat everyone else. 

yelling and exaggerated laughter spill in from outside - a sign that my teammates haven't stopped abusing the ‘freeflow sake’ perk we were gifted by reception. I was lucky enough to slip out before it got too crazy; from the looks of it–she wasn’t. 

her head tilts, a supposedly small movement, but it does wonders. she frowns down at me–and for a minute I think it’s my bedhead. 

“..what?” 

“you didn’t answer my question.” oh.

"'bad' is subjective."

and she pouts, amplifying her already apple-red cheeks.

"do you think I'm a bad person?" I ask.

our hands brush together as she leans over the bedframe, conducting a scientific analysis of my nose (it feels like). "yes."

"why--"

"you invited me over, but you only really talked to me at the door. saying hi when you let me in and ignoring me for the rest of the night makes you a terrible host. and a bad person." I would usually laugh at someone this drunk, but no one's ever been this offended that I didn't talk to them. I sit up, guilt stabbing at my side.

"I would try and make it up to you," I squint at the clock above the window. "I can't think of anything other than walking you home though." that earns me a sigh.

"unless you want to sleep over." my mouth has a mind of its own. "there's only one bed in this room." her liquid courage is contagious.

she bites at her bottom lip, and I stare. I'm not ashamed. I'm just being relatable. atsumu would agree. anyone else would do the same. this is normal. not just me.

"no." her hands meet her hip, a failed attempt at being stern. "that would make me a bad person too." she lectures, all the while crawling under the covers and laying her head on the pillow beside mine. aran's going to complain in the morning, but that's a tiny price to pay for this view.

an hour passes, and I think she's asleep, but as I close my eyes, I find out we were both awake. her fingers intertwine with mine as she whispers: "are there monsters under the bed?"

I smile. real & big. "you're baby in a grown woman's body." is all the sarcasm I can manage. looking at me through her eyelashes, all starry-eyed in a I-could-kiss-you-right-here-and-now-but-that-would-absolutely-destroy-the-both-of-us kind of way, she asks, "so you don't believe in monsters?" "I do. but I bet they'd be scared of me," I joke. I swear her grip on my hand tightens, and she's closer than she was. maybe it's just hopeful imagination.

I’ve never been akin to commitment; why is it now that I feel the need to change? 

────────────────────────

ib: @/wipsbymaya on tiktok, it’s embarrassing how much inspiration I get from that app but it birthed this so I guess it’s not so embarassing

author’s note: how we feeling chat

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

[madelynraemunson]

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑�� 𝐀𝐔 • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

Chapter 002: Long Live the King

Isabelle is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile at the club, you gather up the courage to buy a Handsome Stranger a drink.

↳ 001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

CW: slight age gap (steve is 31, sweets is 23) , homoerotic steddie workout scene (just guys bein dudes) 😵‍💫🚨 drinking, smoking, gambling, drugs mentioned, shy girl makes one (1) unaliving joke, weight discussed briefly, this chapter contains scene/POV splits, each chapter will have its own warnings

card suits divider by @cafekitsune 🃏🧡

a/n: the hargroves own 'rock you like hurricane', do not try to change my mind.

“SHUT UP & PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS.”

word count: 5.6k words

♛

12:03 PM - Sweets and Isabelle

“There he goes again,” Isabelle sighs. “Long Live the King…”

It’s the sixth Elvis impersonator you’ve seen so far. Further down the strip of Old Vegas there was Jailhouse Rock Elvis, Unchained Melody Elvis, Elvis-If-You-Tried-To-Draw-Him-By-Memory, and Donuts-On-The-Toilet Elvis.

“I feel like I’ve seen every variant of The King possible,” you remark. “All that’s missing now is ShowGirl Elvis or Stripper Elvis.”

The statement alone piques your curiosity while you and Isabelle continue to walk. Suddenly, you find yourself asking your BFF a very interesting question.

“Would you ever wanna be a stripper?”

Isabelle stiffens abruptly.

It’s a pause you’ve never seen before in your life. But given that Isabelle has been an extreme empath for as long as you’ve known her, women in sex work may be a very sensitive topic.

“No,” Elle says to you, flatly. “They go through entirely too much.”

It’s the response you expected. It’s very easy for Isabelle to put herself in other people’s shoes — or heels in this sense. Even easier if they’re women at the hands of a man who holds a fair amount of power over them. It’s no wonder it seems triggering.

“It’s an admirable job though,” she manages to add. “Strippers don’t get enough credit. If I had a stripper in my life I would treat her like a queen.”

“Well, you'll have the chance to tonight," you smirk. "Given where we're going..."

Tonight you two are headed to Jackpot Gentlemen's Club, a strip joint on the outskirts of Vegas right outside Winchester.

It's more of a business endeavor than anything. The plan is to support all the beautiful dancers, all while promoting Isabelle's lingerie line, Bright & Belle.

For as long as you've known Isabelle, she's always been money-driven.

But in the best way. After divorcing from her ex-husband — Eddie, you believe his name was — Isabelle had been hyper-fixated on the hustle. And after seeing that ‘Girl-Boss’ mindset of hers flourish throughout the years, you wanted to be there for her in anyway you can.

What you haven't told Isabelle though, is that you wanted to feel sexy too. You’ve been deficient in Vitamin A(ttention) as of late, and a non-committal hook up in a "What Happens Here, Stays Here" type city sounded pretty enticing. A graduation reward and all.

"When was the last time you got laid?" Isabelle abruptly pries.

Piggybacking off your thoughts. How on-brand for the two of you.

You mask your thoughts further with a scoff of annoyance.

"Elle."

"Don't Elle me," she bumps you with her hip. "When was the last time you got a proper dicking down? Like really."

"I'm celibate," you lie snarkily.

"Oh come on!" she groans. "I know that's a lie. You know that's a lie. I mean, have you read the room? We are in Vegas."

You indeed have read the room. But that was besides the point. Isabelle has been so focused on creating a better life for herself, and she's done so much for you as well that you felt as if your presence at all times was mandated.

"I just don't wanna be all lovey-dovey in your face," you shamefully admit. "Especially since you're still healing from your own losses with love. Given your divorce from Eddie and all."

Isabelle rolls her eyes.

"Oh you mean the divorce that happened four years ago?!" she demands. "Almost five now, I think. Just because you're more likely to have a night to be celebrated and adored as a goddess, doesn't mean any of that is taken away from me."

You smile sheepishly at the floor, hooking your arms with Isabelle's as you two continue on your walk.

"Besides, I'm much older than you," she points out. "I've had my glory days. Now it's time for you to be selfish. Enjoy the rest of your 20s. What other place to do it than Vegas?"

She flashes a charming grin your way. "And I've got your back through and through."

"I love you," you beam at Isabelle tear-eyed. "You're the sister I never had."

“I love you too," she coos. "More than anything in the world. I'd be your non-biological sister in every lifetime if I could."

You two take a moment to fully admire each other, doing your little handshake you came up with when you met her in the early years of college, to honor your established sisterhood.

You and Isabelle against the world. No matter what.

Afterwards, Isabelle wraps you up in her arms as you two walk.

"Onwards, sweetheart. Let's go find you a King of your own.”

“I WANNA SEE YOU WORK OUT FOR ME. WORK OUT FOR ME.”

12:03 PM - Steve and Eddie

“Mmmh…fuck…shit.”

The room echoes with Steve’s strained grunts as sweat pools at his forehead.

It’s the workout of his life. But of course anyone would feel that way, running solely on coffee and a single scoop of creatine, right at peak lunchtime.

“Shit,” The King pants. "Don’t know how much left I got in me, Eds."

His pumps? Weaker. His reps? Gradually more incomplete. And with enough intensity to draw blood, Steve bites his lower lip in concentration, the grunting inevitably summoning Eddie over to his struggling friend.

The rugged metalhead leaps from the bar he was doing pull-ups from and strides towards the retired jock.

“You can handle it, Big Boy.”

Situating himself over Steve, Eddie floats his chalky palms over The King’s protruding chest, feet shoulder width apart and ready to spot.

“I…UGH— I…can’t!”

“Quit whining. I know you can.”

“I CAN’T! It’s too much…m literally shaking, Eds.”

“If you aren’t shaking you’re not doing it right,” Eddie Munson smirks. “Finish for me, Stevie, let’s go.”

The bulk of Steve’s arms relax and contract as The King pushes upwards, face scrunching in euphoric agony with every pump.

SLAM! CLINK!

Eddie's quick to swoop down to the base of the machine with one hand, reach extending to Steve with the other. Meanwhile Steve scrunches himself upwards, leaning forward on the bench as he wipes his forehead that was dripping with sweat. He's tapped out.

"You okay?" Eddie asks.

“Yeah..." Steve pants as he collects himself. "Yeah. I am. Thanks."

Steve takes a moment to look at himself in the high-rise glass mirror.

Naturally the arms come into sight first. There's a foreign roundness to them, and an undeniable softening of Steve's chest that the girls at Hellfire call "broad and beefy", but he can only categorize it as "fluffy". His gaze then dips down to his tummy, an avenue once firm and washboard-like now presenting with a soft, undeniable curve. No abs. Just flesh... a sobering manifestation of what too many nights of dry gin and "The Eddie Special": Spice Level Unforgiven can do to a guy. And while others might call it a “Certified Dad Bod,” Steve never found the compliment flattering. It just reminds him—he's getting older. Living on borrowed time.

"Holy shit," Steve breaks the silence. "I need to lay off the margaritas.”

“Well now isn’t the time to do it!” Eddie exclaims, clearly doing pirouettes on the opposite side of the pendulum. "Have you read the room? We're in Vegas, baby! We need to be excretion-less, out, and ready to party by tonight!"

Finding it nearly impossible to match his energy levels, Steve studies ‘Sweaty Eddie’ as he downs his water, the protrusion of his razor-burnt Adam’s Apple bobbing with every large gulp, the B.O. radiating off his hairy armpits being enough to wipe out the entire state of Nevada with just one brisk movement.

“Man, how did you manage to get married before me?” Steve huffs. “Twice!”

Eddie laughs, keeping the water contained in his mouth with a swipe of his fingers.

“Was that supposed to be a dig?”

“Well you weren’t exactly hot shit in high school.”

“There’s your answer then," Eddie clicks his tongue as-a-matter-of-factly. He does a boisterous dance around his burnt-out buddy. "Ladies love the freaks.”

Eddie studies Steve as he continues to ponder in a tone-deaf abyss.

“That's another thing I've been meaning to talk to you about," Eddie emphasizes. "We’ve gotta get you out of that high school mindset, dude."

Steve looks up again. "Huh?"

Eddie shakes his head. “It's beginning to look like you peaked when you were 18..." He takes a minute to playfully check him out. "Which obviously isn't the truth. But operating from that headspace is what’s stopping you from getting a good lay. I guarantee you."

"That or I just don't have rizz..." Steve grimaces. "Or whatever Dustin always says."

Eddie grimaces with him. He really wished Steve would quit saying that. Or anything from Dustin's vocab bank for the matter. "Yeah. Right. Let's keep that shit a Dustin thing."

He sets his water bottle down.

"Alright Harrington, here's the plan," Eds scoffs. "Tonight we'll put on our best Gatsy cosplays, get some drinks to loosen ya up, and then meander around Jackpot so you can talk up some babes. Work on the confidence...w-"

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," Steve shrugs. "I've got some emails I gotta reply to anyway."

“Oh come on. Think of all the honeys you’ll attract post-pump!” Eddie incentivizes. “Look at them ARMS, baby. Them ARMS!"

Eddie issues himself a seat next to Steve. Steve allows him the space, but doesn't appear to be sold on the plans Eddie had for tonight.

"Look, I'm sorry the girl of your dreams ended up with my bartender," Eddie begins. "And that I unintentionally stole your other dream girl when you guys began hitting it off pretty well... and that her best friend that you were madly in love with ended up being a lesbian and you didn't find out until after the two platonic outings. And that..."

"Are you trying to make me feel like absolute dog shit?"

"No, I'm turning this into an inspirational Ted Talk if you'd let me," Eddie scorns. "Fact of the matter is, Hawkins? Is Lover's Lake. WE..."

Eddie points in the opposite direction, south of The Strip.

"...have arrived at Treasure Island, baby! Lots of fish in the sea. Lots of beautiful women looking to have a good time. You can't make any progress in the same environment that drained you. You gotta lean into new beginnings. And maybe that means finding love in a city outside your comfort zone."

"Yeah, yeah. Just cuz I spawned into a new city doesn't guarantee complete past erasure," Steve mutters. "13 years later, but I'm still that same asshole ASB kid who gave others a hard time for validation. Maybe that's my karma. Maybe I don't deserve love."

"That's where you're wrong," Eddie snaps. "You ARE deserving of love."

It is that moment the two friends' eyes meet. It hurts Eddie to see Steve self-sabotage himself. He was so excited to come to Vegas with him and Shy Girl. Imposter Syndrome will ruthlessly make someone their bitch if they let it. Not today, though. Not under Eddie's watch.

"Your life is just beginning, Steve," Eddie emphasizes. "It pains me to see that you haven't seen your full potential yet. And just because this gentleman got his happy ending... doesn't mean there isn't one for you out there."

"Why do I always run?" Steve sighs. "Why do I always run away from good opportunities knowing full well I deserve to be happy too?"

"Because you're so used to rejection," Eddie snorts. "Believe me. Takes one to know one. You'll miss out on a lot of opportunity doing that. Which is something I'm not gonna let you do. For as long as you're under my wing."

The two friends then share an affectionate, and sweaty, hug. It took a lot of hashing out for these two to get to this point. They weren't exactly the best of friends in high school. But over time, when life reared its ugly head and all they had left was each other, the two gentlemen realized they were more alike than they thought. And that was a whole 'nother avenue of self-love they had to discover; and of course they did it side by side. Steve and Eddie forever.

“Whew, let’s go!” Steve whistles, getting out of his feelings for real this time. “We earned ourselves a Fat Tuesday!”

“Now we’re talkin’!” Eddie smirks. “Can't wait to hit the clubs and find you a hottie.”

"HERE I AM! ROCKED YOU LIKE A HURRICANE."

12:30 PM - Shy Girl and Nina

"If I can't find anything to wear, I'm gonna kill myself."

Shy Girl and Nina are found anxiously strutting around Fashion Show Mall, attempting to find some cute lingerie sets before their guest performances tonight.

"Bold of you to say for someone who looks good in everything," Nina scoffs.

The club they're performing at tonight is called Jackpot, a strip joint in the outskirts of Vegas right outside Winchester. It's no Hellfire, but the name of the game remains constant: CAPITALIZE OFF OF MEN'S DESIRES.

"I need something dramatic and sexy,” Shy Girl prowls. “Something Vegas has never seen before. Something to make me stand out for the tips. Something that screams... here I am."

"We can check Victoria's..." Nina suggests.

"Tried that. Eddie pretty much bought me every set from there."

"How about Love Loft on the second floor?"

"Their sets fit me weird. And I would like their wires to hold my titties up. Not puncture my lungs, thank you very much."

Spoiled with every piece of lingerie she could ever ask for, Shy Girl still had nothing to wear tonight.

It's expected coming from a dancer who has worn and done it all. Having rocked the city of Hawkins like a hurricane straight out of California, Shy Girl was just aching for some action elsewhere. And in light of her friend Steve's booming business over the past couple of years — and in celebration of her husband's early retirement from CEO-ism — why not bring the goodies to Vegas?

"What about this, Hargrove?"

"Ew. Too much glitter."

"Okay... this then?"

"Too little glitter."

"Bitch, if you don't just DECIDE!"

It's taken ages for Shy Girl to take up the amount of space that she does. And with this newfound confidence, there was no going back. During her time at Hellfire, Shy Girl had learned to become a goddess in her own skin, the baddest bitch who was deserving of the softest life; and there wasn't anything her controlling twin brother could ever do to change her mind. And even if he wanted to, he would have to get past those steel, metal bars first. Something that's remained unsuccessful for the past year and a half.

"It can't be too sparkly, but it also can't be too basic," Shy Girl notes aloud. “Something that hugs the girls just right, but isn’t too snug in the crotch area.”

Nina nods absentmindedly as they continue to patrol.

“Something that won’t cost an arm and a leg,” Shy Girl adds. “But also not something made by a child in a sweatshop.”

“Totally,” Nina hums.

They tread onward, having probably met their steps for the day, Shy Girl growing increasingly more agitated with every stride.

“I just want something that makes me look pretty, ethereal, and soul-snatching!" she grunts again. "Is that too much to ask?!”

“Something like that?”

Shy Girl turns in the direction of Nina's pointing finger. And in her field of view is the prettiest set she's ever seen.

"Are you kidding me?!" Shy Girl squeals in excitement.

Seductive and scarlet red. Tight, satin material embellished with extravagant-looking faux diamonds. The star of the set is the heart shape neckline, with showgirl-like frills at the hips that resemble an eternal flame.

Running to the display now, Shy Girl reaches over to fondle the set while Nina desperately sets off after her.

The set is more stunning the closer they got, with so much attention to detail, it was surely crafted by a girl's girl. Someone who knows what the people want and exactly how to get it. And also a woman who is calculated.

Lady in Red.

"It's even called Lady in Red, dude," Shy Girl beams, a prominent twinkle in her eyes. "This set is made for me. WHO IS THE MASTERMIND BEHIND THIS MONEY-MAKER? I could just kiss her."

“Hmm... Elle Warren," Nina reads. "CEO of Bright & Belle.”

Beside the set is a podium that show-cases the set's creator. She's smiling in her headshot, with a pink suit and her arms crossed, showing off her radiant smile, and even more radiant ocean eyes and Barbie-blonde locks.

"Every woman deserves to feel beautiful, bold, and UNSTOPPABLE. My mission is to empower women by turning pain into power. Bright & Belle is designed to celebrate all body types, all shades, and all sizes, offering a collection that makes every woman feel confident and comfortable in her own skin. I hope to become the rainbow after someone's storm, one sexy set at a time."

“Wow," Shy Girl coos. "She’s so pretty... and inspirational.”

“Biased much?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wh- look at her! Blonde curly hair? Piercing blue eyes, she looks just like you.”

“Maybe Billy and I have a triplet we just don’t know about,” Shy Girl theorizes, the conniving pearly-white Hargrove smirk reappearing on her face.

“Girl with the life you live, y’all might as well," Nina rolls her eyes. "Now c'mon. Let's go see what this club's all about. Bet it can't beat Hellfire."

9:00 pm - Sweets

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH A NIGHT OF SIN?"

“Now this… this is heaven.”

It appears that Jackpot is where the party is at. Isabelle's eyes light up with dollar signs when she observes the booths filled with patrons, stage badazzled with the sexiest dancers you both have ever seen, and a bar so full that there was hardly any room in the corners to wall-sit.

"Looks like we've got some impressions to make," Isabelle remarks. "That being said, I'll be in the powder room, if you'll excuse me."

You watch in disapproval as she issues a joking tap atop the tip of her nose. When she sees you scowling at her, Isabelle shrinks herself back down immediately.

"I'm joking, Sweets," she says. "I'm just going to the bathroom. You know that."

"With every joke there is a little truth," you mutter. "And you've been making a lot of blow jokes lately."

Isabelle was hooked on benzos and cocaine her first year of college. Granted, you both went to school in PULLMAN, the "hippie haven" of Washington State, so it didn't make her that much of an outlier.

But the abuse was heavy, most of it correlating with the abuse she endured in her marriage.

"Are you using again?" you accuse.

"No, honey."

"Then why'd you make a joke?"

"Because I thought it was funny. Stop looking so much into it."

You take a second to issue yourself some deep breaths. Noticing your distress, Isabelle gives you a consoling rub on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made that joke," she frowns. "I know how much you worry for me. But I'm clean. I promise."

"Okay," you mumble.

Friends don’t lie. And Isabelle has never given you any reason to doubt her. So why should you?

"I'll be back," she excuses herself again. "Just gonna go use the lil Big Sisters’ room. We'll be shaking ass with the strippers before you know it."

You snort to yourself as she scampers out of your sight. Now it’s just you alone with your thoughts and yearning.

Isabelle's speech from earlier echoes through your ears once again. It's time for you to enjoy your 20s. College is over and you can finally let loose. So why did you feel guilty, wanting to roam free during Isabelle’s most pivotal moment instead of supporting her? You two have been joined at the hip for so long, it felt unnatural to exclude her from things. You wanted to do everything with your “big sister”.

"Alriiiight, ladies and gentlemen," the DJ announces as he transitions his performance track to a familiar 80s song. "Thank you so much for coming and supporting all of these beautiful dancers!”

The crowd erupts in rampant cheers and whistles. You clap along too, while scanning the room for a nice guy to talk up.

“We have a special treat for you tonight,” the DJ continues. “We’ve got some dancers from out of state, so give them a warm Las Vegas welcome…”

Your gaze piques in curiosity as the R&B track fades into a guitar riff, soon to be melted into a very familiar song from the 80s, critically acclaimed by people who lived on the edge of Sexy and Wild.

“…All the way from Hawkins, Indiana…” says the DJ. “…from the HELLFIRE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB...GIVE IT UP... FOR SHYYYY GIRLLLLL!"

The music now blares through the speakers as one of the dancers makes her grand entrance. And soon a specific corner of the room erupts in a frenzy the moment she fully emerges onto the stage.

"Here I am! Rocked you like a hurricane."

And she is a smokin' hot hurricane if you ever did see one.

You fawn over the stripper’s captivating eye make-up. Her bouncy, golden blonde hair with just as bouncy, perky, tits. And the ass on this chick? That thing’s got a zip code and a mind of its own. Just look at it go.

Everyone cheers, specifically two people in the corner, presumably her hometown peeps who flew out to see her perform. There's a girl with long, dark hair, and given her attire, you presume she's a performer too. There's also a man next to her, also with long hair and is most likely her partner, hooting and hollering as if he wasn't even allowed to hoot and holler at home, handing everyone around him some shots while he praised every move she made.

“What a fucking badass,” you say to yourself. "She's got the crowd by the horns."

And that captivating red set. It suits this ‘Shy Girl’ so well it almost makes you tear up. It is then not too long after that you realize you’ve seen this set before.

It’s one of Isabelle’s sets. One of your best friend’s creations. The Lady in Red.

"That's my wife!" the Van Halen-looking guy boasts proudly. "THAT'S MY WIFE! Doing amazing, baby!"

Your suspicions were correct. Shy Girl is that man’s wife. And what a lucky man he is. Urgently grabbing your phone, you go to shoot Isabelle a text about the dancer wearing her set.

to: Isabelle Warren

Girl come quick! A dancer on stage is wearing Lady in Red! She's really good!

Enamored, you watch as Shy Girl swoops down to her knees on the left side of the tip rail. She blows the bar a kiss. When your eyes follow in that direction, you see a — very attractive — man who seems to be part of that same group, judging by how they interacted with one another from across the room.

There's a glimmer, a familiar pining in his fiery, molten eyes as he leans back against the barstool, admiring the dancer from head to toe. When they meet gazes, Shy Girl winks at him and struts away.

The exchange draws you to reach two conclusions: the man is either secretly in love with this chick, or they've been friends for a really long time.

Suits was about to be deeply infatuated with you, though. With your sudden boost of confidence to want to approach him tonight.

Without another lingering thought, you strut over to the bar to greet the older piece of eye candy with your signature, warm grin.

"Hi there.”

But his reaction is the least of what you expected.

"Oh god," the gentleman sighs. "Did he send you to me?"

Confused, you take a look around.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Oh cut the crap, kid, I've seen it all before,” the man scoffs pessimistically. “What'd he promise you? Huh? Tickets to see Adele or Blue Boys? Free rounds of shots?”

"He didn't promise me anything," you huff in protest. "God forbid I actually wanna talk to somebody on a night out. Is this a trauma response because if so, this needs to be visited. In therapy, perhaps. Not a bar."

The ego — or lack of — of the guy seemingly deflates, a flushed red color appearing at the heat of his cheekbones before radiating to his ears.

"You mean you willingly came up to me?" he continues to stare in disbelief.

"Yes..." you narrow your eyes at the Pick-Me-Nice-Guy in front of you. "But something tells me I shouldn't have."

His gaze softens even more. It's apologetic now.

"It's not every day I get approached anymore," he says. "Usually I'm the one that does the chasing."

"Well, why not?" you shrug, deflating your ego along with him as well. "You're handsome, young, look like a fun time... How can the ladies not?"

It catches him off guard.

"Young," he laughs at this. "How old are you anyways?"

"23," you gaze at him through your eyelashes. "How old are you?"

"I'm 31, cutie."

You can feel your heart beating in more places than one. And when your eyes travel down to his lap, you're greeted by a warm and open manspread, the base of his knees angled towards your body, the same way his broad torso invites you into him.

You accept his advance.

"Oh come on," you blush. "That's not even that much older."

"Not that much older? Just you wait," he says with a slight chuckle. Your breath hitches his knee brushes against your ass. "Soon you can't drink the way you used to, your knees hurt, and you wake up ten pounds heavier than the day before. Trust me, I know."

"Rich coming from someone who's a few years removed from my generation."

And rich, judging by the intoxicating cologne that clung to his skin like a second layer. Rich, judging by the perfectly pressed, popped collar of his Maceoo dress shirt. Rich, judging by his wait-list only watch that rested neatly on his wrist, catching the glare from the strobe lights every so often.

"You're kidding," he snaps you back to reality. "You're really Gen Z?"

"Yeah, can't you tell?" you tsk. You watch as his pupils drastically increase in size the more you sway into him. "I'm part of the knows-what-they-want-and-gets-it type of crowd."

You nod to the bartender to start a tab for you. Playing it safe, you request two gin-and-tonics, offering a glance to the now more-than-receptive man in front of you.

"Can't relate," he breathes. "'m a millenial."

"Ah, the hate-my-life crowd."

"Better than the hate-my-wife crowd” he winks, subtly jabbing at the ever-so-argumentative Generation-X.

"Oh definitely," you agree, clinking your glass with his. "And I can tell by your friends you guys are the total opposite."

Both of you look back over at the his friends, and to your surprise, discover that the group is staring back at you as well. Group being the Shy Girl dancer's husband and the dark-haired dancer beside him. When your eyes meet theirs they immediately look away, but sheepishly smile to each other along with "do you see this?" type of nudges.

"So what's your deal?" you smirk, turning back to the guy. "You seeing anybody?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be here talking to you, honey," Suits smirks, his espresso eyes devouring you while his palm hovers over the small of your back. "I’m really sorry we got off the wrong foot. I’m Steve.”

You tell him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Steve.”

“You as well, Sweets.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I own my own business,” Steve smiles. “Been doing it a couple years now, and it’s really taken off.”

“What business is it?”

“I sell bobby pins,” Steve explains. It confuses you at first but you remain supportive. “But they’re a special kind.”

Intrigued, you watch as Steve digs into his pocket to fetch you some samples.

“My buddy Eddie over there owns a strip club,” Steve explains, nodding towards the feral, long-haired guy over in the corner. “And unfortunately one too many dancers have gotten roofied, so I made bobby pins that change color when it senses something weird in your drink.”

"Do they now?"

"They sure do," Steve nods proudly. "The bobby pins turn black if they detect the roofie drug. So if you think your drink's been spiked, that's a foolproof way for ya to check."

“This is very neat,” you beam, holding the pretty pink bobby pin in your hand.

You’re twiddling it between your fingers when you notice Steve’s breathing falter. He clears his throat for a brief second, before resting his hand slightly over yours.

“May I?”

You nod and allow him his bobby pin back.

There's little you can do except try not to melt, quietly swooning as the older man you're perched on gazes at you like a muse. His touch is gentle, as if you're a marble bust—his fingers brushing away the shorter strands of your curtain bangs, savoring the dimples above your chin.

“There,” he grins. “Now I can see those pretty eyes.”

You and Steve find yourselves getting lost into conversation, well past Shy Girl's set, and most likely way past her friend's as well. He tells you about his life back home and you tell him about your final year of college. The gloominess of Seattle. Your excitement about being able to start a new life. And when you reach to give him back his bobby pin, he gestures it away.

"Consider it a gift. If I won't be seeing you again, I'd at least want you to be safe."

“Who’s to say you won’t see me again?”

"Well," Steve chuckles into you. "Maybe you'll find some other sucker to charm and you'll forget all about me."

Closing up the space between you two, you shuffle yourself closer in between his knees, rubbing yourself teasingly against his iron-pressed lap while he wraps his strong arms around you to keep you in place.

“Oh don’t be so silly,” you hum, softly tracing his stubble before clasping his beating chest. “You’ll definitely be seeing me around.”

"You trying to give me your phone number?" he cocks an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I mean... I was implying that you’d see me walking around The Strip. Vegas is pretty small,” you point out. “But if you’d like to stay connected, I’m not opposed to that either.”

Steve tongue dances in his cheek as he stares you up and down.

"Or who knows," you add. "Maybe you'll see me at an Adele show."

Steve cackles at this, receptive to the teasing you're giving him and reeling you in as a response.

“Well, Sweets, if that's the case, then I’d love to see you again before I go back.”

You two exchange phone numbers, close out your tab, and Steve is on his way. Turns out, he's also part of the In-Bed-By-9 crowd, but tonight was considered a splurge. When he disappears from sight, you set out to find Isabelle.

Luckily, her golden blonde locks are easy to spot in the crowd.

“There you are!" you exclaim when you find her, hooking arms with her as you two start towards the tip rail. "I met a guy while you were gone. His name is Steve, he’s a CEO.”

“Such a CEO name,” Isabelle tuts. “But that’s amazing. Is he older?”

You nod, blushing. Isabelle squeals, ecstatic for you.

“Ugh, older men are the bestttt, girl. Where is he now?”

“Rounding up his friends," your eyes scan the room. "I think they’re done for tonight. His friend was one of the dancers and she was wearing your Lady in Red set. She's from Indiana too, but I forgot where.”

“And I missed it?!" Isabelle exclaims, completely engaged now. "Now you HAVE to point them out to me.”

So now you two are on a mission, peddling through the strip club like two lost sheep looking for their herder. After five sweaty drunks and lots of assertive "excuse me"s later, you're able to catch sight of the guy just by the back of his head.

“That’s Steve," you immediately point him out. "Right over there."

“Oh my god,” is all Isabelle says.

You turn to Elle and it's like she's seen a ghost. Panicked, you watch the color drain from your best friend's face in real time, followed by a nearly audible gulp in a pulsating room and obnoxious strobe lights. And for a brief second, it seems like Elle had nearly lost her footing, with how her knees seemingly buckled below her.

“Elle…" you nudge her. "A-are you okay?”

"Yeah… I'm fine...it’s just…” she stammers. “That's Steve Harrington."

"You know Steve Harrington?"

"More than you know."

Suddenly, her gaze shifts when she studies his friends.

It’s a look you’ve never seen before in your life. At least not on Isabelle’s face.

Her once radiant ocean eyes, so full of warmth and sunshine, have turned icy and sharp, like shards of broken glass. A tension builds in her face as her jaw clenches. You look down at her hands and see that they're curled inwards, as though she'd been fighting to keep a brewing anger from the depths of her, relatively silent, fury from erupting. And then, before you know it her ocean eyes flare with an almost palpable heat. Danger. Fire, almost.

"And the guy next to him?" Isabelle grimaces. "The erratic one with the stripper around his arm?"

Isabelle's lips tighten bitterly.

"That's Eddie Munson... my ex-husband."

🏷️ taglist: @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut @kennedy-brooke @micheledawn1975 @maisiepotatobeans @1deverland

[jungmeowz]

.☘︎ ݁˖ the start of unrequited love - P.JS

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ° ᡣ𐭩 . °

୨ৎ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ୨ৎ

synops; a short series of the brinks of realization of their first love and the strained relationship y/n had caused for it to become unrequited.

pairing: Park Jongseong x reader

genre: angst, unrequited love au!

tw: depression, death, etc. etc. *super sad*

status: ongoing!

001: unrequited love; y/n pov

002: unrequited love; jongseong pov

003: brinks of realization

004: the moment where I realized I was in love with you

005: falling in love with you

006: confrontational talk

007: what's wrong

008: I promise

009: goodbye park jongseong

fin-

[henrysglock]

[Lumax voice] Turn Around, Look At What You See! In Their Face...

(If you couldn't already tell: I have finally lost all my marbles.)

I'm sure this has occurred to other people by now, but if El's memories leading up to the 4.07 monologue are ripped directly from Brenner's (<- slayful Nat post, required viewing), and she runs in to see One killing Two...then doesn't it stand to reason that that is what Brenner saw when he ran into the Rainbow Room in 1979?

Now before anyone hops in to correct me: There's definitely a version of things where Brenner finds El alone in the rainbow room after the massacre. That's not in question. We all know that happened at some point.

(Regardless of the manner of death...no broken bones or gouged eyes...okay!)

However, as I'm sure we're all aware...these guys are different guys.

(This detail has been beaten into the ground but always bears repeating)

So, what is in question is what close-up Brenner saw when he ran into the Rainbow Room.

Those duplicate memories appear to belong to close-up Brenner:

i.e. not the Brenner who runs in and sees El at the start of 4.08. (This isn't to say that that Brenner doesn't have those memories or similar ones, but he's not the Brenner whose memories are being featured. Begone, thot.)

So, arguably, if El has close-up Brenner's memories...then she should be running in and seeing what he saw, no?

So what did he see? Someone just slightly shorter than him, who walked close enough to warrant a tight shot.

That POV (as has been discussed ad nauseam by many) is far too tall to be any version of El:

But it is about the right height for someone a few inches shorter than Brenner...something like:

So, tl;dr: I want to play a clip for you.

I love choreography and camera work. That's art right there.

However, that video doesn't include the subtitling that accompanies the visuals that link El finding One to Brenner finding El:

Now, it's difficult to compare anything after this point (though not impossible, can't keep a south Wisconsin boy down. I will be using them for comparisons later)...because of course that's when weird, random blood starts appearing:

Hence, the clock is visibly frozen after that point:

This smacks, to me, of the same kind of shit that happened with 004 when the kids were bullying El—Scenes that never actually happened in the real past being spliced into a tape that cuts off and then picks back up like no time had passed/nothing had been spliced in. It makes more sense if you read the post I linked, since the video in that post makes my point clearly.

< TANGENTIALLY RELATED >

The anime nerd in me is tempted to liken this whole deal ^ to JJBA/DIO's time-stopping stand "The World" in...that's right...Stardust Crusaders, wherein DIO pause time for everyone but himself, which I'm certain others have done as well.

Tbqh...I'm still here:

Specifically a reference to The World/DIO vs Star Platium/Jotaro, both of which are time-stopping stands...(Much to think about irt Jotaro/Star Platinum developing time-stopping powers later on in terms of El, sure, but also in terms of "Everything was hard for [One]...He walked in here, and it was like something had changed. He told me he had figured it out.").

[Distant screaming as I'm forcefully prevented from going on a "Stardust Spider-Stardust Crusaders-Dio Brando-Joestar Family-Dio's Bone-Green Baby-Green, Green Grass of Home" tangent in this post...and don't get me started on DIO's regen healing/vampirism from the ancient stone mask...don't get me started on King Crimson and Golden Experience Requiem either...]

Not to mention the DIO reference with One linking this scene to (you guessed it) Edward Munson:

Edward Creel proven once again, but this time it's via goddamn JJBA and Brenner fuckery. (And yes, yes, I know about DIO the band. This ain't about her. Things can have multiple meanings. It was a Choice to associate Henward with DIO and Eddie with DIO. I rest my case.)

< ANYWAY, TANGENTS ASIDE >

As I said earlier, close-up Brenner is shot at a distance baby El could never have achieved. She passes out on the far side of the room, entirely too far away to have been anywhere near close enough for a close-up of Brenner's face, height aside.

However, ignoring the blood fuckery and disappearing gate cracks:

Some-One else has enough energy left to walk towards the doors. All the way over, in fact. So while those close-up shots are 100% out of range for post-gate baby El, they're very much in-range for 3:46 PM One.

Tl;dr: It's entirely possible, if not likely (based on the choreography and camera-work in these scenes) that close-up/angry Brenner was addressing One rather than baby El.

[thelonelyarchon]

PICTURE PERFECT (guy) ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ִ ࣪𖤐

PAIRING: artem wing x idol!fem!reader

GENRE: social media au, modern/idol au, lawyer (bodyguard-ish relationship) x client, imaginary love triangle, secret identity (royalty), best friend's sister, love at first sight

SYNOPSIS: when asked about her ideal man during a promotional interview for her new album’s release, y/n, also known as idol 'YEONMI' has only one person in mind: the country's top attorney with a 99% win rate and stellis city’s renowned youngest senior attorney, artem wing.

who could blame her? he’s a picture perfect guy.

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: genshin impact x tot, ooc characters, disregards tot main story timeline, creative liberties (for character backgrounds. i try to be truthful to the og work as much as i can!), swearing, stalking, kidnapping, attempted murder, crack, angst (?) slightly serious au, depictions of cyber hate, alcohol consumption, kissing, female pronouns are used, proactive female lead (chases ml proactively), law terms, assault, mentions of guns and other weapons, disoriented family/family issues, suggestive scenes, sexual innuendos, mentions of crime, mention of drugs . . . (+chapter specific trigger warnings will be posted as the story progresses)

STATUS: ongoing

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ hello!

⋆ ★ expect grammatical errors. some typos are intentional though.

⋆ ★ it's my first smau! expect it to be shitty lol.

⋆ ★ english is not my first language! so if my dialogues sound too stiff, calculated, unnatural, or unfunny at times then you know why :'> i'm trying, i swear

⋆ ★ possible written chapters are marked with a 🌷

⋆ ★ pov indicator: light mode -> y/n | dark mode -> artem (unless other character's pov is stated)

⋆ ★ timestamps don't matter unless specifically stated and small caps letters are intentional

⋆ ★ (kind) helpful criticisms are welcome!

TAGLIST: open! comment down below or send me a message/ask if you want to be added.

CHARACTERS

— foolish ones (y/n’s circle)

— nixx team (artem's circle)

PROLOGUE

— happy birthday

SESSION 1

— 001 - who’s artem wing?

— 002 - congratulations, mr. wing!

— 003 - brother and sister

— 004 - disappointment

— 005

— 006

— 007

— 008

— 009

— 010

© @thelonelyarchon 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY. DO NOT REPOST. REBLOG & LIKE.

[nemesiseyes]

SICK JOKE, part II.

featuring: @silencehq @stcnecoldd @melisezgin @kretina & @lleccmte

tw: sangue, violência, gore.

PARTE UM AQUI.

❛ Ah, vai se foder. ━━━━━ Reclamou, em um tom indignado, enquanto bufava de raiva. ❛ Quantas vezes eu vou ter que enfrentar essa aberração?! ━━━━━ Complementou, retirando do dedo o anel de prata, que se transformou em Anivaary, o seu chakram recém-adquirido. Frente ao monstro gigantesco, Tadeu quase riu, sentindo uma pontada na base da coluna que era meramente emocional, fruto da lembrança de meses atrás, na Turquia, quando encontrou aquele mesmo monstro e o matou, quase indo junto com ele, ao se sacrificar de forma... duvidosa, no mínimo, mas efetiva. E, lá no fundo, até esperava que aquela criatura esquisita fosse capaz de reconhecê-lo, porque ele iria matá-la de novo.

Sabia muito bem como a quimera era perigosa, e, por inúmeras razões, ele a considerava um monstro extremamente injusto. Certo, certo, não existia de fato justiça se tratando das criaturas mortais e sedentas pelo sangue dos semideuses, entretanto, um monstro de duas cabeças que sopra fogo e solta veneno pela mordida é claramente um exagero. Mas ao menos estavam em cinco, correto? Diferente da última vez, enfrentar um monstro daquele porte em maior número seria mais efetivo.

Isso é, até observar a forma como Katrina e Arthur simplesmente desistiram de atacar a quimera, para atacar um ao outro. ❛ Que caralho vocês estão fazendo, porra? Olha o tamanho desse bicho bem aqui. ━━━━━ Gritou na direção dos dois, recebendo, como resposta, um sopro quente muito próximo de seu braço, da criatura que queria sua atenção. Seja lá qual fosse o motivo para Katrina e Arthur estarem se enfrentando, Tadeu não tinha tempo para raciocionar a natureza da briga, porque, se bobeasse, seria feito de churrasco. ❛ Aurora, Melis, vamos tentar nos dividir. Eu tenho experiência com a cabra, deixa comigo. ━━━━━ Elas pareciam conscientes e focadas, o que era um alívio. Seguindo o seu próprio direcionamento, jogou o chakram na direção da cabeça de cabra, torcendo para o fogaréu não derreter a arma, do qual desviou uma segunda vez, por ter se abaixado na hora. Era ferro estígio, então sabia que machucava tanto quanto inspirava medo, mesmo se fosse um simples instinto animal. Ainda abaixado, ergueu uma das mãos para receber a arma de volta, observando o cenário, para procurar um lugar onde poderia ter vantagem.

Não tinha vantagem em absolutamente nenhum lugar.

Lembrou-se de seu amuleto da sorte, e o ativou. O efeito durava duas horas e, por estarem em desvantagem, imaginava precisar de toda a ajuda possível. A quimera parecia ainda mais revoltada, recebendo ataques atrás de ataques, e Tadeu aproveitou a distração feita pelo golpe de uma das colegas para fincar sua faca em uma das coxas, movimento semelhante ao feito em seu último encontro. Ressoando da lâmina escura, saíram os gritos desesperados de todas as vítimas feitas pelo monstro e, como uma representação perfeita do karma, isso lhe deu chance o suficiente para uma segunda investida com o chakram, só que, dessa vez, fez o ferimento verticalmente, atingindo a língua e a garganta com o corte afiado.

O grito de dor animalesco lhe deu o dobro de foco, e, de novo, pensamentos perigosos passaram por sua mente. As árvores feias podiam não ter galhos, mas estavam próximas e, se fosse mais rápido que o fogo da cabeça de cabra, talvez conseguisse pular em cima do leão, deste modo, alcançando o animal secundário em cima da principal. E foi exatamente o que fez, correndo enquanto atirava mais uma vez o chakram, como distração. Quando estava no topo da árvore, fina e desnutrida, perigosamente perto de se partir, simplesmente se jogou, escorregando até se firmar na juba do leão, coberto pelo sangue que molhava a juba nojenta. No topo da cabeça, iniciou a contagem. Antes do três, sentiu o sopro de fogo mais uma vez. Foi então que simplesmente enlouqueceu, usando a lâmina escura como uma faca, sem mais arremessos. Os cortes desesperados não tinham técnica alguma, especialmente com a quantia de berros soltados pela cabra irritante. E então, finalmente aconteceu. Enquanto ela se preparava para torrá-lo, lhe encarando com seus olhos horrorosos de capríneo, conseguiu atingir a garganta antes do sopro das narinas e a viu amolecer em cima do corpo do leão, que o derrubou no chão, e Tadeu caiu escorregando no que podia se agarrar, exatamente como havia subido, com um cansaço extremo.

Buscando fôlego enquanto as mãos queimavam pelo atrito, observou que Katrina tinha... Asas? ❛ Mas que... ━━━━━ Semicerrou os olhos, sentindo urgência em dobro quando viu que o filho de Ares não estava parando, apesar da filha de Éris não estar mais consciente. Aquela seria mais uma maluquice sua, ao empurrá-lo para longe antes do golpe concluído, como se fosse páreo para sua força. ❛ Chega. ━━━━━ A voz não soou como o tom irritadiço normal, que era quase sempre de indignação. Ele estava falando sério, era o oposto das respostas atravessadas em que quase se dava para ver o fogo saindo por suas ventas. Na verdade, o tom de sua voz era frio. ❛ Você quer aumentar a nossa cota de defuntos, Arthur? Bota essa merda de cabeça no lugar! ━━━━━ Não pretendia ficar ali, e não sabia, pelo estado atordoado do outro, se ele sequer havia escutado. Quando olhou para frente, observou duas coisas diferentes procurando pela quimera: sua outra cabeça estava morta, e Melis não parecia bem. Com ela, já tinham duas feridas. E, por estar mais perto de Katrina, foi até ela. Uma parte da raiva se tornou preocupação, mas ele não esqueceria do ocorrido tão cedo. Tinham que sair dali, e ele tinha que perguntar a ela que merda foi aquela.

[wayneverso]

WHATEVER YOU DO... DON'T FALL ASLEEP — Part I.

Tudo que ela queria fazer era dormir. Se tivesse que apontar a emoção prevalente em meio a todo o luto, se perderia na dormência, e nem mesmo a raiva, tão característica de seus momentos de desamparo, estava lá. Simplesmente não existia nada. Por um lado, foi o que tornou mais fácil voltar a interagir com os de fora, por outro, não havia sensação que durasse mais do que alguns minutos, e então, já estava de volta àquela Falta. Evelyn não era alheia à falta, a tinha consigo há meses. Entretanto, perder sua intensidade lhe assustou. Não queria lutar também. Então cedeu à vontade, e fechou os olhos. 

Quando sonhou, não tinha dor. Estava na floresta, cercada pelo verde e o farfalhar das folhas, por onde os animais pequenos se esgueiravam para escapar de sua presença estranha, uma intrusa na natureza. Evelyn sorriu, empolgada com a mudança de paisagem, e notou que, em cada uma das mãos, empunhava as gêmeas assassinas, Delírio e Mania. Neste momento, o espaço imaculado apresentou perigo, quando sentiu o chão tremer debaixo dos pés descalços. Em um movimento rápido, pegou o cantil e levou até os lábios, em goles generosos, sentindo a queimação gostosa fortalecer seu corpo e despertar seus sentidos. De longe, o viu chegando, irritado e pronto para a batalha: o grifo. Ao contrário dele, porém, Evelyn exibia um sorriso divertido. Adorava enfrentar grifos, ou qualquer monstro animalesco. 

Quando a batalha se iniciou, sentiu que estava revivendo algo que já havia acontecido. Naquele lapso de consciência, Evelyn notou que estava passeando por uma memória antiga. Ela sabia como o grifo iria lhe atacar. Sabia o que estava fazendo naquela floresta. Também sabia que escaparia ilesa e o envenenaria com suas cobras, depois de perder os sais em uma investida da qual escapou de raspão, e ele fugiria. Ela estava em uma ronda, logo à frente encontraria outros patrulheiros, e os contaria, entre risos e puxando ar para os pulmões, que havia o mandado embora. Mas não foi isso que aconteceu.

Dessa vez, o ataque de raspão a acertou, e o grifo usou sua força para prensar sua perna com as garras de gavião, na tentativa de levá-la consigo para o alto de seu ninho.  Pega de surpresa e confusa, usou suas próprias garras para impedir os planos do grifo e foi deixada no chão, com os sinais do aperto forte na vermelhidão da pele exposta da coxa. Mais tarde, isso vai virar um hematoma muito feio, ela pensou. Assim que virou a cabeça na direção dos colegas de patrulha, se viu novamente em seu quarto. Tudo parecia normal e, provavelmente, era só mais um sonho qualquer. Exceto pelo roxo evidente na perna. Igual ao que havia visto antes de despertar. 

Passando os dedos levemente pelo ferimento, Evelyn pensou que ainda estava sonhando, mas, quando concluiu que estava no mundo real, pela primeira vez em dias sentiu algo com a mesma intensidade de antes: preocupação.

featuring: @silencehq

[enjomo-arch]

(  flame  command  :  koala  )   //    [  ♠ @goreburdened  ]

koala has no clue what's going on but it's still nice to see ace & sabo interacting like brothers should. it makes her smile.

shifting  his  gaze  away  from  sabo,  unfortunately  for  him  Ace  noticed  Koala. She  was  also  spending  time  at  the  shore  ?  ❝  oiii, koala ! over here !  ❞  he  started  waving  his  hand  with  a  big  grin,  trying  to  catch  her  attention.  ❝  sabo  wants  to  put  the  sunscreen  on  yer'  back  !  ❞ he's  so  evil,  he  knows  this  and  he's  kinda  proud  of  it.

[yeonmuse]

PRETTY BOY Chapters

Reader x kang yeosang ── 𝒢enre. slight angst. fluff, non idol high school ateez. [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary

Summary | this 11 part series is written in the pov of yeosangs secret admirer, based on the lyrics from the song Pretty boy by Lennon Stella.

001 CHAPTER 1

002 CHAPTER 2

003 CHAPTER 3

004 CHAPTER 4

005 CHAPTER 5

006 CHAPTER 6

007 CHAPTER 7

008 CHAPTER 8

009 CHAPTER 9

010 CHAPTER 10

011 FINAL CHAPTER

[jasmyluv]

Call you mine! - a scaramouche x fem!reader smau

Synopsis Where two bored (and forced) college students are signed up to join a matchmaking game show that’s going to air. Surrounded by handsome men and gorgeous women, you’re paired up with someone who has the worst attitude to ever exist. Would you be able to find the one who you could call mine?

AU modern!au, college!au, slow burn (?), strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, crack, others will be added as the story progresses

Warnings swearing, petnames, different POVs, jealousy, kms/kys jokes, toxic relationship, post-break up blues, heishino (Heizou x Shinobu), Rosaeya (Rosaria x Kaeya), Chilumi (Childe x Lumine), others will be added as the story progresses

Tag list List #1 open, send an ask, comment, or dm to be added !

Note Written chapters will be marked with ◊, anything posted or related to this smau will be tagged with 🎥 - Call you mine!, the pictures used in this smau (that assumably includes you) do not represent or portray what you look like in this au, you look like you in this au, nobody else :)

A/n will start when Of All People... ends!

Profiles !

Irodori Cuties ([Name]'s friend group)

5wirl you away! (Scaramouche's friend group)

Chapters !

Act I - Camera's are rolling...

001. Unknown Number || 002. Cruel Summer

003. The End Of My Suffering || 004. Who Is You!?

005. Dude This Guy's Hot || 006. Hey Babe

007. I'm With Who What Now || 008. Flow For The Show

009. Wth Is 5wirl || 010. Fit Check

011. Who Is That Fine Babe || 012. 5wirl Who to 5wirl Fanatic

013. I'm Leaving When? || 014. Summer Break

015. Picnic! || 016. Grwm To Go To LA

017. May 15th || 018. Imyg

Act II - And... Action!

019. NATIONAL TV? || 020. Kazuha Your Main Dancer Sucks

021. You Can Not Be Serious || 022. [Name] Dancer Era!?

023. I Thought You Were A Dancer

Act III - Cut!

tba

© all rights reserved to @jasmyluv 2023. any reposts, acts of plagiarism, and modifying of my works are strictly prohibited.