#BLACK/BLACK-WHITE [002]

[fullscoreshenanigans]

(The Promised Neverland Art Book World)

Ah yes, one of my favorite genres of baby full score trio pictures: Isabella being openly affectionate toward Emma and Norman in front of Ray while being hands off with him.

(Chapter 2 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 165 | Chapter 170 | Chapter 177)

[kidskulls]

he's the prettiest person ever, actually

[freshthoughts2020]

[hachiane]

things that are not talked about enough in Love and Deepspace pt. 2

thanks to comments on part one and perusing LADS Reddit and Youtube, here are more ttantaeilads part 2 Wanderer Bugaloo: a reminder that these are canon in the LADS universe:

Despite being big eaters, Sylus and Xavier don’t like wasabi

Zayne is a kaomoji enjoyer

According to Sylus, Mephisto is not 100% waterproof

Sea God Rafayel kicks MC off a cliff

Glowing singing toy handcuffs exist in Linkon

Xavier once waited for rice to grow

In addition to sleeping sitting up, Sylus is also a stomach sleeper, or he became one after meeting MC

MC has also said she sleeps on her stomach when she's tired after missions

Rafayel stepped out of the bathtub, slipped on a paintbrush, sprained his ankle and checked himself into the highest ward in the hospital

According to Zayne, if you wear a black tie and white shirt, you will resemble 85% of him

Sylus got a money tree stolen from him

Zayne accidentally buys a water tank instead of a cup

Sylus, the type of person to hold anything you give him while he’s on a call

Hotpot flavoured desserts exist in Linkon

Xavier owns a star-shaped wand seasoning shaker

Rabbits were once set loose in a hospital

MC gets stalked on two occasions

"okay but like we can just stand there and look smoking hot" is a line Rafayel commented once

MC turns a warped vinyl record into a fruit plate

Xavier will fight your boss

Zayne is good at snowboarding

MC once caught a lobster while surfing

Sylus almost dies in the desert

Xavier leaves a plant unattended that it grew roots to cover his floor

MC is good at origami and sometimes teaches it to the kids at Akso Hospital

Artsy Birb is a second grader

Zayne's nickname at a restaurant "Two Seasonal Specials Dine-in"

A version of Monopoly exists in Linkon

Xavier’s status “After slaying the Wanderers, the bread in the microwave is straight fire”

Rafayel and the way he names his fish friends: 001, 002 and 886

Lil S Pet Store almost came to be

A steakhouse in Linkon serves steak that has one-third of it cooked and calls it medium-rare

Sylus uses an ammo box as a grill – it failed

The two squirrels that frequently visit Akso Hospital are named after medication

Sylus prefers sour salad dressings

Or he likes sour things in general; he made a salad with green apples

Xavier accidentally gets hired for handing out flyers and selling flowers on the street

MC cannot handle horror movies or horror-themed escape rooms

Immersive experiences as part of marketing efforts are so immersive that it puts users into day-long walking expeditions, causes breathing problems and real body injuries, but are okayed in Linkon

Xavier and MC snoop on people near their apartment block and text each other about it

Despite being a doctor, Zayne will dodge medicine for hot cocoa when he has a flu

Rafayel replying to MC's comment: "okie dokie artichokie"

Dragon Sylus's torn pants stay up despite not having a waistband or belt

Bunbun has legs

Xavier and his too many diplomas

Sylus uses the word "fugly"

Zayne uses the word "angsty"

Rafayel has a bathtub next to a couch in his living room

Zayne is some level of bilingual

Sylus recommends a series of hard spirits as a dinner option

Despite being a doctor, Zayne (attempts to) dodge a dentist's medical advice

Wasabi Octopus's legs smell like mustard

edited on 25.12.24 for accuracy

[jpnriikicore]

heyy could i request a paul aron boyfriend headcanons? i feel paul nation is in need of some cheering up😭

paring paul aron x reader, word count 356, genre fluff, authors note sorry, for not releasing this faster <3 ( masterlist )

001, porsches.

paul would drive you around estonia in an black porsche 911 listening to les madeleines by andrea vanzo speaking about how johannes erm got second after european champions decathlon.

002, vacations.

he takes you on vacation with his friends and siblings especially the one’s in italy. traveling around italy on vespa’s to dinner dates. he always manages to encourages you to jump off cliffs with him despite your initial fear.

003, boat dates.

you take the boat out on the waters every time you can. he always jumps into the waters as you lounge around on the white seats on the boat watching him fondly resurface. he ends up slashing you or pretends to climb back onto the boat to dry off, but ends up wrapping his arm around your waist drawing you into the water instead.

004, traveling to estonia ( headconnon ).

you travel back to estonia with him. though it’s a lot of traveling back and forth you wouldn’t have it any other way. in his home he gets to relax a little away from all the pressures of racing.

005, traveling to estonia ( imagine ).

you asleep on the flight to estonia head leaned againist the seat with a mask over your eyes. your mouth agape as you breathe soundly. his heart warms at the sight with a smile on his face. he squeezes your intertwined hands. OH, he’s definitely the type to attempt to put the movies on at the same exact time on planes.

006, supporting estonia.

if not estonian you act like as if it is your own country. always supporting the country when it comes to such things like the olympics.

007, anniversary.

for an anniversary at an fancy restaurant he gifted a necklace with his initials on it. you’ve never taken it off since he clasped it on you.

008, race days.

in the garage nervously picking at your nails with his brother by your side. paul’s jacket draped on your shoulders as you watch. his race seems to be going well for him. you refuse to celebrate for him to early on in order to jinxes him.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[thevirtualvalentine]

002. ONE PIECE, TRAFALGAR LAW.

content warnings: nsfw, med student!law, riding, perv!law, dick sucking, roles switch part way through, college au, maybe more.

plot: oh no! you’ve come down with the common cold and luffy suggest you visit his friend.. traffy? at the on-campus med clinic. seems simple enough till you’re fucking his brains out.

word count: 3.3k

It was just a simple cold, a quick trip in and out of the health clinic is all it would take. Get your decongestant, maybe a cough drop or two and lickity split you’d be better in no time. It’s not that you’re scared of the doctors office, just a bit wary of them whilst the process is long, arduous, and usually results in a headache. That’s why you thought the smaller on campus clinic would be quicker than scheduling an appointment, your friend Luffy said he knew the guy that worked there and added that he was, ‘grumpy but pretty practical.’ Went on a long tangent saying they’d known each other forever, yada yada, “go see him, he’d like you.”

It wasn’t a far walk from your dorm, plus it was a nice day out, the weather didn’t seem to make you feel any worse. When you walked into the small health center, you were shocked to see that no one else was there. The lights were dim in the main office and you would have sworn it was closed if a deep voice didn’t call out to you from another room, “Back here, what can I do for ya?”

You pull your jacket over yourself from the below sub temperatures when you make your way down the hallway. “Um… Traffy? Luffy said you’re studying pre-med. I just feel pretty congested is all..” You eye over the note Luffy had given you to double check the pronunciation, he knows you get pretty nervous at new places with people you don’t know. Annoyance shrouds his voice when he speaks again.

“Traffy? Of course that idiot told you to say that,” you can hear him sigh as you come up to the door. You shove the crumpled up piece of paper into your pocket simultaneously as you enter his office, shuffling awkwardly because he doesn’t look up from the paper work in his hand.

“Sorry bout that, what should I call you?” You can't see his face but he has short black hair that’s a bit messy, his hands show that he has vitiligo and tattoos? A bit built for a doctor, but the white lab coat makes him pop out amongst the pristine and dim space.

“La-” he finally looks up from his stack of miscellaneous books and papers but stutters over his words, “Traffy is fine.” He’s quick to clear his throat while giving a light awkward smile, all annoyance in his tone suddenly gone in thin air. You give a small wave as you pass your weight back and forth on the balls of your feet. The handsome man shakes his head in the act of doing a double take before he asks for your name. “Where are my manners, you are?”

“No no, it’s ok! y/n is fine,” your nerves cause you to mimic his verbiage as you stand planted in the middle of the room. He has these deep yellow eyes that stare you down while he asks you about your symptoms, asking when they first appeared and how long you’ve been feeling unwell.

He tsks which makes you gulp, worried that you’ve come down with a life threatening disease that seemingly has no cure. The snap of latex gloves against his tattooed hands snaps you out of your panic, “Well now, that just won’t do. No worries, doctor Law is here to help.” His low voice eases your nerves. As he stands up you realize how tall he is, and as his face comes into light you’re taken aback at just how handsome he really is. You’re almost annoyed at Luffy for hiding his hot friend from you, scruff that seems to suit him so well across his speckled features. Gold earrings with splotches of white hair scattered across his hairline. You’re praying your fever can explain why you feel so hot all of a sudden in such a cold room.

“Say ‘ahh’ for me.” His large hand rests underneath your chin, subtly tilting your head up to face him. Now you’re certain it’s not the fever that’s making you feel hot, it’s definitely him.

“Ahhh,” you stick your tongue out timidly, trying to avoid his almost predatory gaze while averting your eyes. All of a sudden his free hand enters your field of vision as two thick gloved fingers slide against your tongue, pushing the pads along the slimy surface. “Good,” he remarks monotonously, bright eyes never leaving your face.

Your mouth instinctively closes around his digits and you swear a light smile tugs at his lips before he retracts his fingers slowly. “Shit, sorry about that,” you say nervously, god you could jump off a bridge right now. How embarrassing, or so you think.

“Mhm, no gag reflex?” With his back turned to you he discards the gloves in a waste bin, ushering you to sit down on the examination table with a point of his finger.

You’re confused by his question, does he mean this in a medical sense or a practical one? The man is a doctor you suppose, it’s always best to be honest with your doctor, right? “Only when I’m brushing my teeth, why?” Those butterflies are back, causing you to swing your feet absentmindedly as you tell him the truth.

He returns to you with a stethoscope in hand as he places the ends in his ears. “Nothing, can you remove your jacket for me?” His demeanor makes your heart thump wildly in your chest, words that come out so smooth like he’s a practiced professional. You’re sure there’s something wrong with you because you’re getting turned on from a simple check up in the schools minute clinic.

You try to calm your heart as you take off your jacket, leaving you in a simple flimsy tank top. Hopefully he won’t be able to hear it’s [your heart’s] erratic beat. You curse yourself for not wearing a bra, you didn’t expect your ‘check up’ to go this way when you dressed yourself for the day, it was supposed to be a quick trip.

The cold air chills your nipples, making them visible through the thin fabric as they pebble up. Another pang of embarrassment stabs at your pride when he leans down to press the diaphragm over your chest.“Am I making you nervous?” It’s in the way he doesn’t even look at you as he presses the cold material over your blazing skin. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“No…” you do your best to lie, hopefully that can save you or else you’ll have to hide in your dorm for the rest of your days while Luffy harasses you over embarrassing yourself in front of his friend.

“Your body doesn’t lie sweetness,” you can feel his stare drilling holes into your forehead now. “Ah, there it goes again.” You think you’re going to melt on top of his exam table if he doesn’t stop revealing things you don’t want to tell him. Your grip on the doctor roll makes it crackle beneath your hands as you try to calm down before you speak.

“What kind of examination is this anyway, I told you I’m just congested.” Defensiveness consumes you as you lean away from his touch, brain too rattled by his other worldly looks and words. You cross your arms and snub your head to the side, unbeknownst to you but most definitely to his own enjoyment it pushes your breasts together. You sigh, feeling bad for raising your voice at him. Maybe a bit of honesty will lessen the tension between you both.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling, it’s just you’re really attractive and it’s making me nervous.” You drop your guard as you look up at him earnestly, apologizing isn’t always your strong suit.

He could be wrong, but he feels you want him in the way he wants you too. Luffy was right, his friend was hot. He’d heard about you in fleeting conversations, but was always curious to know what you looked like. There was just no way any normal person would want to be around that guy for more than a few minutes at a time. He could kill that guy for hiding such a beauty from him.

“I can help with that.” He turns his back to you once again, setting down his stethoscope. You’re gagged from the fact he blatantly ignored your confession. Your eyes that had drifted to the side now meet his as you stare at him wide eyed in disbelief. He leans over you, slotting his knee between your legs while his hands rest on either side of your head. You blink at him a few times dumbfounded because a few seconds ago you were sitting up but now lay flat on your back as he cages you in. Desire swirls deep in your stomach as you clench your fists.

He doesn’t make any sort of move on you till he has your consent. Sure he’s definitely already used some of his medical practice to his advantage, but he’s not here to hurt you. He won’t do anything to you unless he's sure you feel the same way.

You’re so turned on by it all that your legs squeeze together, interrupted by the knee slotted between them. “Please?” It comes out as more of a whine than anything while you place your hands on his shoulders, dragging him down to kiss you. It's sloppy and rushed at best, filled with mutual hunger as your tongues collide. His knee slides further and further upwards till it makes contact with your cunt that’s slowly becoming needier for more of his touch.

The swap of saliva is anything but sanitary and you almost feel bad for the fact you’ll get him sick after this. When he pulls away a string of spit connects you both, glimmering under the dimmed fluorescent lights, “here, lemme get that.” Traffy, or rather Law, swipes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip trying to clean up the mess he’s made, a shame, you like it dirty. You catch the digit with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth, working your warm muscle all over whatever’s available to you. His eyes darken a shade as they gloss over when you release his finger with a loud pop sound.

“Is this still part of the ‘check up’” you tease, a coy smile tugs at your lips as you try to rock your hips against his knee. “Cause if so, I think I’m a little sick Doc.” He likes this flirtier side of you, what happened to the girl who walked into his office 30 minutes ago that couldn’t look him in the eye? Who knew such a shitty job with inadequate pay could be so fun.

Law lets his speckled hands run along your sides, groping whatever free skin he can. “Yeah? Think the only cure’s suckin me off. It’s terminal. Better work fast, doctor's orders.” His words send shivers of excitement coasting through you like waves. You’re entranced by that smirk of his, what other kinds of faces can a stoic man like him make?

You sit up to undo his belt hastily while he pulls your tank top off from over your head. It’s a flurry of items being removed till you’re sinking to your knees in front of him. Every part of him is beautiful, dark hair that stands out against lighter skin on his abdomen, additional tattoos that trail down his body that aren’t just on his hands. You could eat him alive and not spare a single bite, he’s tantalizing.

Those same bright eyes watch you now as you admire him, drinking you in. After you’ve finished checking him out you place your hands on his thighs, kissing the tip of his cock which makes him tense beneath your hands. “What, are you nervous, doctor?” He hisses in response, twitching tentatively right before your eyes. You lick from the underside of his base to the tip, running your tongue along his veins.

Law’s more of a pervert in theory rather than in practice, watching you eagerly suck him off like candy brings down all his resolve. His cock slipping in and out of your lips makes his toes curl. He’s trying to suppress whimpers by biting down on the back of his hand. Heat rises to his face as he melts like putty with each jerk of your wrist. “You’re so cute like this Traffy, feel so big in my hands.” He groans at your praise, eyebrows knitting together while sweat builds at his hairline. Those med school types are always such sluts for praise, you should have known.

You slide your tongue along his sensitive slit while your hand twists around his base. “Such a pretty boy, you’d let anyone who walks in suck your dick like this huh?” The role reversal makes him delirious, he’s whining for you like his life depends on it.

“N-no. Just you, swear.” His voice is trembling as he struggles to look you in the eye. He doesn’t want to cum yet but if you keep talking to him like he’s some kind of slut he just might. He can’t remember the last time someone’s sucked him off like this, treating his dick like a prized commodity, it’s too much for him.

You take all of him in your throat while breathing through your nose, grasping at his bare thighs with your well manicured nails. He’s so thick it surprisingly makes you gag around him, tears well up in your vision but you push through, bobbing your head along his length. Spit dribbles down your chin and he’s convinced you’re trying to suck him dry. “Fuck please, do-don’t stop,” he’s never felt this out of control in his life and for once it feels nice to let go. He cums down your throat with no verbal warnings but his body said everything, orgasm ripping through him with a guttural moan.

But you don’t stop, continuing to suck him through his climax till he’s doubled over whining. “You even taste good,” you say while licking the corners of your mouth and then your fingers, letting your tongue slide between the webs of your hands. It makes his jaw drop and he can’t even say anything, his dick gets hard all over again from feeling so desired. Seems he’s found a new favorite patient.

Law can’t just leave you like this, not after you swallowed his load like you’d done it a million times before. He drags your kneeling form up to sit in his lap, letting you settle on him. He finds the placement of your hands on his chest endearing, your fingertips trail his inked skin and it feels intimate for someone who just caused him to break plenty of OSHA laws upon their first meeting. “I want you to use me, show me how to make you feel good,” the tip of his nose grazes your cheek as he speaks low in your ear.

Oh god, he doesn’t even know. It’s like he’s just opened Pandora’s box without a care in the world, and worst of all he personally asked for it. You can only smile sweetly, “this time let me hear you.” He nods like a dog just given orders, resting back against his palms as he waits for instructions. Your hands continue to feel him up, raking your nails across his pecks or squeezing at his biceps while you praise his figure. Law continuously gets harder beneath you, not even he was aware of this newfound kink for praise. Precum leaks from his tip in globs, please for the love of god just fuck him already.

You take him with no prep, usually you’d make sure to stretch yourself but with how wet he’s made you it’s honestly unnecessary. “Aah— fuck wait wait. You’re so tight.” He tries bracing himself when you sheath him, hands come flying to your hips as he grips you in place. “Can’t.. you feel s’good,” he’s breathing heavily trying to ground himself. Maybe he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

“But you’re taking me so well baby, your cock’s perfect.” And again he moans, it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard, he tries biting his bottom lip to silence himself but you roll your hips forwards. “I said, let me hear you.” You wrap your arms around his neck as you push yourself up by your thighs to drop back down again. Continuing the motion while he struggles to keep up beneath you. Law attempts to keep his eyes open but with his previous orgasm it’s borderline impossible, the rhythmic slam of your hips on his dick sends his mind somewhere hazy.

He’s too cute, falling apart like this. Zero composure left to his name as you bounce up and down. The veins on his cock rub so deliciously within your heat, every time they throb you’re sent into ecstasy. The table creaks and gives as you ride him, if anyone walked in right now they could hear it or him whimpering helplessly.

You lean forward trying to position yourself so your clit grazes his pelvis with each grind of your hips. “Touch me Traffy, anywhere please just touch me.” Your close, so close that you can feel the pressure building in your cunt. His mouth latches onto your nipple, kneading the soft flesh with practiced hands. The added sensation sends your head rolling back, tapered pants of how good he is at this and how you don’t want him to stop escape you.

The view is impeccable, delicate tits in his face while your slick pussy engulfs him. He watches the way your mouth moves when you say his name and saves the memory for later use when he’s all alone. It almost feels like a movie to him, but he knows a film couldn’t be as good as this. Even that stupid nickname he’s gotten over the years sounds so sultry coming from you right now.

Your hand comes down from his shoulder to push him off you and he’s startled, figuring he must have done something wrong, but then you’re touching yourself as you fuck him and he’s trying to keep the floodgates from pouring over. You twist and tug at your own breast before trailing it down your body, trying to relieve that desperate ache that’s built up throughout your trip to his clinic. His eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated as he watches your fingers drag through your folds and then your puffy clit. “Said you wanted to watch me, so watch pervert.”

Oh fuckkkk. His hips jerk, biting his own lip hard enough to draw blood as he coats your insides white. He can’t do anything but whimper and shake noisily, gravelly voice failing him because of how hard this second orgasm rips through him. “Yes yes yes! Fuck, you’re so hot.” You must be trying to kill him, he can’t take anymore of your praise or he’s going to have to come back for more.

“Such a slutty face, gonna make me cum all over this dick.” Your fingers work faster and faster over your nub bringing you closer to that euphoria. It’s licking your insides like wildfire and it truly feels like it might be the cure to any disease. Finally it crashes over you, the back of your thighs slap against his for the final time as you cream all around him. Hands shooting for his hair as you grind out the remainder of your high.

It felt so dirty to be used as a cock to fuck but dear god did it look so good. Your heavy breath hitting him in warm fans as your body calms down. “So..” you huff while laying down on top of him, “think I’m cured?”

“No, I think you’ll have to visit for regular check ups.” Those same hands that you first noticed when you walked in rub circles on the dimples of your lower back, another cheeky smirk from the med student following suit.

[snoopysarchive]

LIMERENCE an atsumu miya x fem!reader fic

limerence • /‘limər(ə)ns/ a state of mind that can result from romantic feelings for another person. it can involve melancholic thoughts and a desire for reciprocation of one’s feelings. unlike love, it is based on the uncertainty that the person you desire also desires you.

synopsis ;

after a nasty breakup, an old friend helps you get your revenge. or alternatively, he finally gets a chance at calling you his, even if it’s just pretend.

tropes and tags ; mostly written fic with some smau, fake dating to real dating, one-sided pining, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, opposites attract

content warning ; swearing, ooc characters, emotionally constipated reader, usage of y/n, usage of petnames, cheating, mentions of drug/alcohol use, kys/kms/etc. jokes, discusses mental health + more serious topics, tobio kageyama x reader but its a toxic relationship content warnings will be included in every chapter

taglist is currently open. please fill out this form to be added or removed.

updates every monday and thursday

bonuses ; series | her | him keep in mind that these are all aesthetics, not meant to describe y/n or atsumu physically playlists ; series | her | him series playlist will be updated as the series progresses

nerds dot com | resident ballers + atsumu | misc.

001. wrapped around your finger

101. what you need

002. black and white reruns

202. picture book

003. all that deadwater

303. her heaven

more to come…

© snoopysarchive

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

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

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ plz

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

Chapter 002: Wing Man

You start your first night of work. Eddie requests a private show. But not for him; for his friend — a rich and lonely bachelor who can’t seem to get over his ex.

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

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

word count: 7.2k words

NSFW — lap dance, steve creaming his pants, abusive relationships, talks of trauma, steve and reader trauma dumping lol

pairing: lonely bachelor!steve x fem!exoticdancer!hargrove! reader (and lowkey eddie)

author’s note: yes we get with steve before we get with eddie, but we will get there okay??? 🫣🫣🫦 also don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t homie hop in hawkins because these men are SO FINE

tags: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n

“Let me see you dance I love to watch you dance. Take you down another level, and get you dancing with the Devil” -Wicked Games by The Weeknd

♡

A sultry black set.

A hot pink set with bows. Caribbean blue. Army green for the military men. Some cuffs. Personal wet wipes. Sanitizer. And lastly, a stethoscope to play the part.

“I can’t believe you accepted a caregiving job,” Max scoffs as you both make your way out of Scrubs 4 Less. “Do you even have healthcare experience?”

Your stepsister loved to mask her prying with carefully crafted screening questions. Even if they sounded pessimistic.

“Sure I do,” you shrug. “Remember that summer I cared for Great-Aunt Dotty when she had Parkinson’s? Figured maybe it’d be similar.”

“I guess.”

You take it upon yourself to remind Max that you are certified in CPR. And with that cert, you saved numerous people from drowning as a lifeguard. Of course that was for one year during high school, but it was experience nonetheless.

"Well, what about the heavy lifting?"

"Easy. All in the legs." you pat your thighs. Despite being calm on the outside, you are getting nervous now. About everything.

"Takes a lot of core strength too. And upper body."

It's like she knows what you actually will be going to be doing. However, there are parallels between both professions, and you made sure you made a choice like that so you wouldn't have to lie as much about the physicality of things.

"You seemed to have gotten the job pretty fast,” Max notes.

"Nursing homes are really short staffed. Especially with the pandemic and everyone leaving from all the burnout, they’ll take anybody who qualifies."

"Did they even determine if you do?"

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of people?”

You know you’re being manipulative. You can spot a manipulator from a mile away. But this little white lie is for you and Max’s own good. Even if it means selling her a fake story. Even if it means lying. Living a double life.

“An abusive home life and all-timers isn’t comparable.”

“Have you considered that some people with Alzheimer’s are combative as well?”

“And you had to accept the graveyard shift?” she pries further, ignoring all your valid points.

“It pays more,” you answer sharply, readily. “Two dollar shift differential.”

“Oh my god, we’re practically millionaires.”

The sudden change in Max's behavior is really catching you off guard. She was optimistic on her birthday. A little withdrawn when the weekend was approaching. Now the pain is evident it is almost unbearable. Sure, Billy isn't a problem anymore, but with all of his chaos, Max has found solace in using her hobbies as coping mechanisms. Her body needs that adrenaline, and now you have cut off access to all of it.

Max can't go surf. She can't run around freely just yet because she doesn't know good routes and trails. She doesn't have friends in the area besides you, Robin, and Vicky. She misses Donovan.

Max is hurt. You know she is, but you don't blame her. Still, you’ve had it.

“Hey.” you snap.

Max halts. She knows she went too far.

“I know it's sucky... the situation we're in right now," you sigh. "But I'm doing this for us, remember? It’s temporary. We just need a soft place to land, and this is paving the way towards that.”

At least that’s something you didn’t have to lie about: It’s a sacrifice you were making for her.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

Orientation day comes in a blink of an eye.

Eddie is giving you a tour of Hellfire while discussing how his particular ‘system’ works. You’ve got to give him credit. His system makes sense.

“I don’t ask my girls to pay to dance here,” he explains. “I just think that’s bogus. Also, it’s Hawkins. Not that many competitors, so if I let you dance here, you’re automatically staff.”

You two walk down the hall. Eddie shows you where you would clock in and out, promising you your punch-in code by the end of the week. You learn that everyone gets paid out every Friday, because in Eddie’s words, “fuck that biweekly shit”. Tips go home with you every night, but you are expected to help tip out staff members patrons don’t really see or interact with. Therefore: Jonathan’s girlfriend Nancy whose House Mom, Henry, and Argyle. The boys make their money from bussing and serving. Jonathan earns tips from POTIONS.

“I figured as much.”

You graze your hand along the kukris on the wall as Eddie talks. He stops to take note of it and gives you a boastful smile.

“You like ‘em?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.”

“That’s the perk of owning your own business,” Eddie says exuding a lazy stretch to graze the kukris himself. “You choose where the money goes, when it goes, how it goes.”

He ponders for a while longer.

“Most of the time at least.”

Clearly a majority of the money also went to the chicken wings.

Eddie leads you to back of the house where he then proudly showcases his wing menu to you. There’s the Hawkins Hot Chick for Nashville inspired hot chicken. Chicken Strippers for the picky eaters. And the ‘Hot As Cluck’ buffalo wings with spice scales named after Metallica songs: Fuel (mild), Fight Fire with Fire (medium), Creeping Death (hot), and The Unforgiven (Extremely hot). All are served with one’s choice of carrots and celery or crinkle cut fries on the side.

“Crinkle cut fries are the best kind of fries,” Eddie states. “Ain’t that right, chef?”

“Ay ay!”

One chef. For the entire back of the house. Though that seems like the textbook definition of a staff shortage, the friendly Latino man with long, black hair that he concealed with a hairnet and baseball cap most likely had it covered. He flashes you a kind grin with kind, hooded eyes to match, quite possibly revealing to you that he’s likely stoned out of his mind. But if it helps him through the shift…

“Argyle’s the man,” Eddie explains. “Pitched the chicken wing idea to me when we were both blasted.”

Suspicions confirmed.

“Is it just Argyle?” you inquire waving hello to him.

“Sometimes Eds helps out back here too,” Argyle answers for him. “Like when we’re really fucking shlammed, he’ll come back here and help cook.”

Argyle turns to you. You smile at him.

“But most of the time I got it,” he says. “That man’s got enough on his plate.”

“Yeah, Argyle’s a beast,” Eddie confirms. “Don’t know what I’d do without him.”

While Eddie tidies up back of the house, you and Argyle converse with one another. He’s 28, produces music on the side, and learned how to cook from his mom at the age of three. California native as well. By observing the mini station he has set up, you notice that Argyle keeps a stash of Yerba Mate with him at all times, and some bud in his mini gym bag. You also learn that he and Eddie often take breaks together, hot boxing one another’s vans as if it were some sort of competition. But, as Argyle had mentioned, with how much Eddie currently has on his plate, those joint breaks (no pun intended) have been pushed to the backburner.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Hargrove,” Argyle concludes. “Excited to have you on our team.”

“Likewise!” you shake his hand with a smile. “Looking forward to bugging you for chicken wings.”

“You bug me all you want, mamas,” he insists. “I’ll make you allll the chicken wings in the world.”

“You a flats girl or a drumstick girl?” Eddie questions.

“Flats,” you respond instantly.

You receive a distraught gasp from the cook while Eddie cackles.

“Atta girl,” Eddie smirks patting your back. “I knew I liked you.”

“BLAS.PHE.MY!” Argyle screams. “Drumsticks are where it’s at bro.”

The three of you argue back and forth about chicken for the next couple of minutes, Eddie sticking beside you through and through. Though play-fighting with your new coworkers seems meniscal in the grand scheme of things, you reveled in it. It’s the first time in a while you felt a sense of community outside your sister. You wanted to savor it, especially since you know that this is temporary.

“You’re a red flag, Hargrove,” Argyle jokes, clutching his chest. “You were perfect in my eyes until you said you were a flats girl.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s mine and not yours,” Eddie jeers.

Your heart flutters. Eddie and chicken wings. You’ve GOT to be in heaven.

“Alright, word,” Argyle calls after Eddie as he pulls you away from the kitchen. “Word. I’m still gonna spoil her with food like she’s mine though.”

“He’s such a flirt,” Eddie says to you once you’re both out of earshot. “Endearing and endangering at the same time.”

“All in good nature right?”

“‘Course!” he exclaims. “We’re all about respecting women at Hellfire. Everything’s lighthearted banter.”

And you’ll revel in that too. Especially since ‘respect’ and ‘lighthearted banter’ weren’t things you were able to experience at home.

“Also!” Eddie adds. “Respectfully… Wear something simple but classy on Friday.”

“Ooh,” you chime. “Simple and classy?”

“Yeah, I’m talking neutral tones. Red lipstick also preferred but you can do whatever you want. I’ve got something I need you to do for me on your very first day.”

I’ll do anything for you, Eddie. Your intrusive thoughts are starting to take over.

———————𓆩♡𓆪—————-

It’s Friday night now and everyone is in their respective stations preparing for the rush. Argyle is prepping the fryer while Chrissy flirts with him for nachos. She waves at you with her fingers and gestures that you can have some too. You smile and mouth a, “thank you” to her.

You really like Chrissy. Of all the dancers you’ve seen so far, she is the most memorable. She is charming and sweet, soft but firm with her boundaries. She has regulars lining up for her daily, all with different types of quirks and interests. But Chrissy somehow fits all of their molds, just by how fast she can switch from doe to siren depending on her audience. You want to be just like her.

You and Eddie stop by the kitchen before heading off to finish orientation. There are chicken wings — flats only, of course — on the line waiting for you with a note scribbled on the back of an old ticket order.

“Shy Girl&lt;3”

“Eat up, mamas,” Argyle encourages you. “Gonna need the energy for tonight.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy cheers. “It’s Fridaaay!”

You thank them before heading out with Eddie once again. Eddie steals a flat from you and flashes a thumbs up to the cook before you two leave.

“Mm,” he approves. “Fight Fire with Fire Buffalo.”

You are just about done with wrapping up orientation training and ready to start the first night on your own. That is until Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother and bus boy, comes along and interrupts Eddie’s train of thought. You walk with Eddie in silence, munching on your food while Mike relentlessly hounds him about bringing his girlfriend into the club. She is 18 but Eddie is refusing.

“But but-” Mike stammers. “The club is already eighteen plu-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupts. “This is Hellfire Club. Not babysitting club.”

“Well I’m 19 and you let me work here. Why does it matter if she’s 18?”

“Because you’re a dude, Wheeler,” Eddie hisses in return. “It’s different for the ladies.”

Not willing to risk any liabilities, he leaves Mike with just that. You follow Eddie, fiddling nervously with your hands as you watch him tsk and shake his head in disapproval.

“I can’t have teenage girls in here,” Eddie mutters. “That’s just blatantly obvious right? Or have I lost it?”

“No, right. Totally!” you agree.

Eddie has another rule. No strippers under the age of 20. Anyone under, including ages of 18 and 19 are children to him. He admits that he gets squeamish when guys bring their younger looking girlfriends into the club. You assume it pertained to his colleague’s girlfriends too.

You walk past the bar with Eddie, waving hi to Jonathan as you did so. Dustin is at the bar as well but is too busy to say hello. You manage to glance over and watch him fix his hair, trying to look his absolute best while FaceTiming his Mormon e-girl from Utah, Suzie. After eavesdropping for the past couple of days, you pick up that she insists on video chatting with Dustin every time he is at Hellfire to ensure his fidelity. Suzie wanted to be his “only wifey” to which ‘Dusty Bun’ assures her that she is.

“Uh oh,” comes a voice ever so soft it sounds eerie when it echoes through the club. “Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

Slithering into your periphery is the same tall, lean guy that you ran into earlier last week. Today he's sporting a white tank top that revealed a couple small tattoos scattered around his body, black pants that were tight enough to be yours, a loose wallet chain belt, and chunky work docs. His gorgeous blonde hair looks attainably messy by what you suspect is mousse. He smells of beer and cigarettes tonight, his tired eyes a precursor to his lust-filled gaze. A poster boy for all the men you wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents is none other than,

“Henry Creel,” Eddie says. “Mike’s just picking a bone with me. Have you met Hargrove? She’s our newest dancer.”

It’s seemingly Henry’s first day back. From the first day of orientation to now, you’ve only had run-ins with Jim, the older gentleman who is also a bouncer. Jim spent years with the Hawkins PD, but after a scandal that only Eddie and his peers seem to know about, Jim found a home protecting young women at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club. The only place that gave him a chance.

You like Jim. You like everyone here. You are also ecstatic to see Henry again, this time as a dancer. You can see the excitement blooming in his eyes, with a steady increase in his pupil size by the second.

“Well, well,” Henry smirks. “Look who decided to join us.”

You two shake hands again.

“Henry’s my other bouncer,” Eddie explains, but you already knew that. “He’s my right hand man. He’s tiny but mighty. Could snap bones in an instant.”

You peer over at Henry with shocked eyes, to which Henry acknowledges with a dramatic bow.

“You’ll see it,” Eddie hovers a hand over your back. “I sure hope not anytime soon, but there’s always that one douchebag.”

“And they always underestimate me too,” Henry says. “I get a nice kick out of it. It’s a win-win.”

Henry is certainly not beefy, but judging by his muscle tone and sharp upright demeanor, he can put up a fight. Dude seems like he does a lot of the dirty work for Eddie. He can get away with it too.

After bidding ‘see you later’ to Henry, you continue walking with Eddie.

“So,” he starts. “Did you put together a cute simple outfit for tonight?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Good,” Eddie says. “I can tell it’s gonna look amazing. I dig the red lipstick and the choker.”

Eddie wanted classy so you gave him classy. Underneath the cloak, you are sporting a lacy black set with a matching black choker and classic red lipstick. Your hair is straightened tonight since beach waves are your signature.

“You want a sneak peak?” you smirk.

Eddie quirks up. “Oh man, do I? Let me at it.”

You take off your cloak to reveal what you have underneath.

Eddie stops in his tracks, taking in the sight in front of him. His gaze is both soft, yet lout. Delicate in the brows, yet carnivorous in the eyes. Slowly, his jaw lowers, uttering a silent gasp as he fully processes the sight of the vixen — you — in front of him.

“Jeez…” he strains. “You look…”

You blush. Electricity whirls through you as Eddie continues to relish in your beauty.

“Showstopping,” Eddie finishes.

He reaches his arms out and you take them, letting yourself fall into his chest as he pulls you to him. During the embrace, he sets his lips beside your cheek, brushing against them delicately as he gives you a verbal kiss.

“Mwah!” he exclaims, leaving you longing for a stronger peck. You feel like you’re on a cloud when he spins you to get a full 360 of your look. “I was expecting like a light color, or pastel…but black — black is your color.”

“Yeah?” you reply. “It’s not too edgy? Choker and all?”

“A lil rough around the edges won’t hurt,” the club owner approves. “He’s gonna love it.”

You follow closely behind. “He?”

Your first client. You had a feeling that’s what Eddie had planned for you today, but reality didn’t sit in until right now.

"Ever given a lap dance before?" Eddie inquires.

"Yeah, but not in this setting."

He seems amused with your answer. Eddie smirks as he gives you a nudge. "Perfect."

You two are walking down the corridor now, down to an isolated room at the end masked by a beaded curtain. You’re unsure if the goosebumps that form on your skin is because of the slight chilliness of the club or because you were walking into a seductive hideout with the boss you had the hots for.

You two stop just a yard short of the curtain. Eddie turns to face you.

"I've got a buddy named Steve. Not short for anything, his parents just... loved the 80s." he chuckles. “You’re giving him a private show tonight. One hour.”

Eddie’s buddy. The pressure is on. The name rings a bell, you believe Dustin was talking about him the first day you set foot in Hellfire.

“Oh,” you say. “I think I heard your friend Dustin talking about him last week.”

As if it were some inside joke, Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie mutters. “Don’t even get me started on those two.”

Eddie motions you forward, extending his arm to signal an “after you” gesture as you proceed into the private show room. The beads of the curtain carelessly clash into one another as Eddie saunters in.

"Anyway, Steve has been going through it lately. His lady left him for another dude, he lost his job because the city wanted another basic coffee shop instead of a place to rent cheesy B movies…and the last time he worked in the food industry he had to wear a sailor’s uniform, so he’s since opted out.”

You wander around what was going to be your office for the next hour as Eddie aimlessly takes his own path and furthers his lay-down.

“His folks want nothing to do with him because he doesn't wanna be nepotized by them. When he’s not working, he’s babysitting — you guessed it — Dustin and the rest of the boys when they’re not here or playing D&D with me. Oh yeah, and on the topic of girlfriend, he hasn't gotten laid in a fat minute.”

Eddie pauses.

"It's kinda depressing,” he says. “Now that I say it all out loud.”

He makes a sharp turn and walks toward the boombox he kept in the corner of the room.

"That is depressing," you mumble nonchalantly, as if you yourself had not been laid in a fat minute… contrary to your obnoxious brother’s popular belief.

“How do you sleep at night knowing you’re a fucking slut?” Billy’s voice haunts you.

You’ve only had one real boyfriend and Billy knew that. And that boyfriend, shortly after he left you for the girl he told you not to worry about, admitted that you were simply a placeholder for him. They’re happily married now and it tortures you knowing that being the first choice was never in the cards. Billy knew that too and used that backstory to fuel your insecurities. Billy knew you hated feeling used, yet brought it up every chance he got. Making his victims feel small, that was the source of his power. You shudder it off.

You watch as Eddie plays around with the boombox, ensuring that the aux chord was working along with all its other components.

"Tell you what," Eddie begins to barter. "You give him a good show, you can keep a hundred percent of your tips tonight. Consider it a sign on bonus."

“Wow, Eddie really?” you exclaim. “That…helps me out a lot. Thanks so much.

“Of course, doll,” Eddie grins. “Happy to help.”

Eddie finishes up tidying the room before walking back over to you.

“I can’t get over how amazing you look,” he adds one last time. “You’re gonna knock his socks off.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you thank him one last time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He lingers for a while longer before going outside to look for Steve. Meanwhile, heart’s-a-fluttering you try to acquaint yourself with the place, choosing a seductive song of your liking before getting prepped.

Wicked Games by The Weeknd.

More ruckus sounds from outside of the show room. You assume your client has arrived.

“That’s the boy,” Eddie confirms. “BRB-right back.”

You excuse your boss as he makes his way over to his friend. While you wait, your mind begins to race. Does your outfit look okay? Does your breath smell? Do you smell? Despite all the wardrobe and wellness checks you’ve done, your mind is insistent that something else was off. To calm your nerves, you decide to take a quick gulp of Bombay Sapphire, a gin Eddie had provided for the room, before Steve walks in.

Liquid courage. May help with the performance too.

“There he is,” Eddie cheers as the two men greet each other outside. “What took you so long?”

“There was uh, traffic,” a softer voice responds.

“I call bull.”

The two talk a bit more, voices too quiet for you to make out what they’re saying. That, or the sound of your heart pounding against your chest drowned out their conversation. Steve sounds friendly. Timid, but friendly nonetheless.

You listen in on Eddie’s spiel about you. He called you stunning, explained that you just moved from California, and that you are exactly Steve’s type. Whatever that could possibly mean. You then hear Eddie go over the rules. No touching you without consent. No verbal or physical harassment. No sexual intercourse. And to tip generously.

“She sounds lovely. Thanks for the run down, Eds.”

“‘Course. She’s all yours, Big Boy.”

The beaded curtains clash once more.

In walks a man around Eddie’s age, late 20s, early 30s with sleek mahogany hair and slight puffy eyes. He’s sporting a gray North Face sleeveless jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and denim blue Levi’s. He’s a lot more preppy than you thought he would be. Steve’s reaction to you was similar to that of Eddie, despite how different they seem from each other.

“Hi,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you smile. “You’re Steve?”

He nods shyly. “You’re who they call Shy Girl?”

“That’s meee.”

It doesn’t take a body language analyst to see that Steve is guarded. It takes another fragile, sullen demeanor to know one.

“Are you one of Eddie’s shy friends?”

The comment earns a laugh from Steve. “You think I’m shy?”

“Just a little.”

He attempts to mask a gulp. “I’ve just never gotten a lap dance before.”

“You think I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stalk towards him and rest a hand on his chest when proximity and Steve himself grants you permission. You sink your palm in deeper when you pick up he’s receptive to it.

Oh yeah, that’s all gin.

“With your handsome self?”

Steve’s blushing now. “Yeah…strip clubs are kinda not my thing. They’re starting to be though, cuz I always come and support Eddie.”

“What a nice boyfriend,” you joke.

“Eddie and I do have a budding bromance,” he admits with a laugh.

“Boy I’d love to be in the middle of that,” you tease him honestly.

Steve is left stunned and speechless while you grab his hand and lead him to the futon in the middle of the room. He attempts to relax, exhaling the tension out of his shoulders and manspreading as he watches you encompass him. You walked in a slow circle around Steve as the music starts and he peers up at you with curious eyes. Alas, you stop in front of him, cupping his face softly in your hands and synchronizing your hip movements to the rhythm of the song.

Relate to your customers. Talk to them. Build a connection with them, you think to yourself.

“So how’s your day been?”

Steve cracks a faint smile. "Good, how's yours?"

"Good," you chime as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap.

Steve sharply inhales, sucking the tension he had just released right back into his body. You shake your head in disapproval and stroke his face calmly.

“No, no,” you coo. “Just sit back, relax. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m safe with you, huh?” he responds in an is-that-so kind of fashion. “You seem like pure danger to me.”

“Oh, please,” you snarkily disregard his comment. “I’m an angel.”

“In a place called Hellfire?” he challenges you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve wants to touch you. So bad. But he refrains. You feel it in his levitating palms, resting just inches away from the small of your back. You start to lightly ride his thigh, hoping to catch his palm in passing as you move your hips about. Instead you’re met with something hard at the base of his pants, an outline and protrusion that wasn’t there before.

Steve looks down and acknowledges it with a shrug.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "It has a mind of its own."

You laugh faintly in return. "It's okay. I'd say it's responding appropriately."

"Yeah?"

"Given the circumstances," you say as you grind slower, deeper. "Yeah."

"Well, that's a relief."

Steve is cute. And a polite man who values your consent was sure to receive it. You two lock gazes before one of you dared to speak again. It all feels like a blind date, and you’re two giddy young adults.

"You..." you start. “You can touch me if you’d like.”

"Really?" Steve asks. "Usually dancers don't let you do that."

"It depends who you ask," you smile. "Consent is subjective...and you have mine. C'mon."

He obliges and starts to graze your ass softly with his hands. You run his hands through his hair, then along his neck without lifting them. A muffled moan is slowly released from his mouth.

"Shit," he sputters. "Feels really good."

He tosses his head back.

"You make me feel so good."

"Aww," you grin. "Me?"

"Yeah you," his voice is deeper now. Huskier. "All because of you."

His hand moves upwards towards your bra and he begins to fiddle with the straps, and then the clasps. You continue your steady grinding, rolling your hips to the beat of the music, tossing your head back for the full effect while Steve holds back the urge to cup your perfect breasts in his kneady hands.

A whimper escapes Steve’s mouth when you find the sweet place to roll, resting a palm over his abdomen for leverage.

“Needy, are we?” you tease him. “Needy for me, Stevie?”

“So fucking needy,” he breathes, a nervous gulp swallowing another sneaky groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

I’ve got my heart right here, I’ve got my scars right here.

Suddenly, you cease the grinding, going from cowgirl to reverse. Grabbing a hold of both his knees with the back of both your hands, you sink down to the floor, knees bent, slightly out turned. Your hands move from his knees to encompass his elbows, accommodating the playful headlock he abruptly decided to have you in, watching you squat down beneath him.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

His arms creep from the sides of your face to the front of your face. You crane your head upwards, peering up at him and refrain from shivering when he brings an arm across your neck. His other hand rests on your face, stroking it tenderly.

“Get up here and, ride my thighs again, please.” he pleads. “It was feeling so good.”

“Okay,” you oblige before standing back up.

“Before you do though, let me get a good look at your ass.”

You stand there for him, bending down ever so slightly so he could run his hands across your back. He grabs a fist full of your hair gently with one hand and strokes your ass cheek with the other.

"Wow," Steve hums as he runs his fingers along the birth mark on your lower back. "I like this birthmark."

"Yeah?" you say. "Some people have said it looks like a tramp stamp."

"It's cute," Steve insists, pulling you onto his lap. “It kinda looks like a bat."

He points to where the wings would be and the fangs and you laugh. No one's admired your tramp stamp-esque birthmark the way Steve did.

"Thanks," you reply. "My brother has a matching one."

You pause.

"Sorry, that didn't sound all that sexy."

Steve tosses his head back and chuckles, hand resting firmly on your ass again. "You look sexy talking regardless, so I don’t mind.”

The chemistry between you and Steve feels so natural. You know if your nurturing heart felt like this with all clients you would be in big trouble. This profession isn’t for everyone and you realize that. But you decide to realize everything else later. Meanwhile, your focus right now is pleasing Steve.

You resume the thigh riding per his request, and chase your own subtle high as you did so. Steve whimpers and whines, seeming to long for you even more with every stroke of his hair, every brush against his cheek, every steady and calculated grind against his—

"Woah, are you okay?"

Suddenly you’re cut off by Steve abruptly pushing you off his lap. When you peer over at him, his face has gone completely red.

Did you do something wrong? Did you violate a boundary? Millions of thoughts race through your head. You can’t get fired on the first day of your new job…

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I just..." Steve stammers, flushing a deeper red hue with every word. “I... uh, kinda came in my pants."

"Oh..." you begin.

"I am so sorry," Steve sighs. "Embarrassed is an understatement. I’m such a loser.”

You two start frantically talking over each other, one extremely apologetic, another sympathetic to the concerns. Again, it’s like you two are clumsy young adults on a blind date set up by your bold friends.

"It's been a while... so..." Steve stammers.

"Steve," you stop him.

"And..." he cuts out.

"It's okay," you reassure him. “It’s okay, Steve. If you need a break, we can stop.”

“Sounds good,” he agrees with a resigned sigh, the red colored flush migrating to his ears. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You go to put your cloak back on again and strut towards the gin. Perhaps offering the man a drink would help loosen up his nerves.

"What should we do with the allotted time left?" Steve wonders eyes following you. He’s rubbing his knees anxiously with his palms. “Eddie has this room booked for an hour. He needs to think you're doing splits on my dick or something or else he won't be satisfied."

Laughter erupts from the deepest parts of your belly at Steve's comment. Steve can't help but laugh as well.

"Hm, we can wait a bit and I can give you another lap dance?” you suggest. “Or a strip tease?"

You weren't used to those words coming out of your mouth, so you attempted to make it sound as normal as possible. Wow, you really just gave a lap dance. And someone came from it.

"Do you think..." Steve inquires. "That we can just... talk?"

----

So you and Steve do exactly that. You talk about your families, and your aspirations, your deepest fears, and your core values. Steve Harrington isn’t the loser he thinks he is. He’s a really cool guy. But deeply misunderstood.

“So you and your brother have similar birthmarks?” Steve questions.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Except his is on his belly. We literally took the term identical twins to a whole new level.”

He laughs.

“Your brother sounds cool.”

“He was.”

Steve gasps in astonishment.

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. Is he…”

“He’s not dead. Just an asshole.”

The color returns to his face. He exhales steadily and shakes his head. You find his reaction funny, despite how twisted that made you sound.

“Dead to you though?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle. “Dead to me.”

You two do a cheers to that with your alcohol-filled glasses and take another painful sip. It burns.

“Tell me about yourself now,” you prompt him.

There’s a dramatic pause.

“Well,” Steve begins. “I’m an only child. So eyes have been on me for as long as I can remember. What’s Stevie up to? This is what we expect of him and this is what happens if he’s not what we make him out to be. It didn’t take til young adulthood to realize that I have been living in my parents’ shadow. I don’t even know what I like.”

Steve spurs on about how he has struggled with his identity, going back and forth between if what he was pursuing was a desire of his or his parents’.

“And for a while I thought I knew who Steve was. Until I lost myself again in a girl named Nancy.”

“Aw,” you pout.

“A girl,” Steve pauses waiting for you to catch on. “Named Nancy.”

Your eyes widen. “House Mom Nancy?!”

Steve nods as you slowly piece things together.

“So Jonathan’s girlfriend is your…”

“Ex girlfriend,” Steve confirms. “Small world, huh?”

You suppose it wasn’t good that Hawkins is so small. You’d hate for someone to recognize you when you’re taking a casual stroll outside.

Nonetheless, you push that concern to the side and continue your conversation with Steve.

“What happened?”

“Some petty high school shit,” he explains. “But it’s always been her. She made me a better me. The closest to Steve that I’ve ever felt.”

“Wow,” you say. “So you saw a future with her?”

“Marriage, kids, everything,” Steve confirms. “Then she decided I wasn’t what — who — she wanted.”

It’s silent for a while. Steve shakes his head bitterly and downs the rest of his drink. You slosh yours around waiting for him to speak again. Besides, if you did, you’d end up ugly crying about your ex. And no one wants their stripper trauma dumping on them when they’re supposed to be performing.

Thankfully, Steve is the first to speak again.

“Yeah, Nance. She looks… she looks happy,” he turns to you with dismal eyes. “I don’t ever wanna get in the way of that.”

“Do you ever see her here?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s in the back being House Mom, making sure all the girls are taken care of and all that. And I’m sure she doesn’t come up front because she knows Eddie has been trying to play wingman.”

You chuckle. “With a stripper?”

“With anyone,” Steve chuckles. “God that sounds awful. I sound like a loser.”

“Would you stop saying that?” you snap. “You are not a loser, Steve.”

“I know I’m not a loser. Just feel like it sometimes. Especially when it dawns on you that you’ve been living life for other people.”

“I kinda know how you feel.”

You two lock eyes again. Steve rests a hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers briefly before he begins playing with each of your fingers one by one.

"I guess…going back to the previous topic…” he proceeds. “If I could change anything about myself, I would've done more of what Steve wants to do. Not what Todd and Marsha want Steve to do. Or what Tommy H. and Carol want Steve to do. Because maybe then Nancy and I would’ve been endgame. Or maybe Allison. Possibly Tammy? Who knows? See? Everyone’s world but Steve’s.”

"Steve," you start. "I hope you realize that I have no idea who any of these people are. It’s kinda hard to keep up.”

"And that is such a relief to hear that," he sighs again, this time in exasperation. "I just feel so free talking about them to someone who doesn't know who they are. Hawkins is small, you know. And it’s good that the only bias you can form is in my favor since you only know of me."

You offer him a consoling pat atop the hand, to which he responds by leaning his head on your shoulder. With how tender everything has been with Steve, there’s a temptation to plant a delicate kiss on his forehead. But you stop yourself.

"I'd like to know you, know you, though,” you find yourself saying.

He gazes up at you. You two smile at each other.

“I’d like to know you more too, Shy Girl,” he answers. “If you’d let me.”

“Duh, it’s what I just said.”

He chuckles. “You’re not saying that for the tips?”

“No. Just human to human.”

You stroke his cheek longingly, running your hand along his stubble.

"It's also been a while since I've gotten laid too," you admit. "And I've got a lot of pent up stress I need to release. You seem like a trustworthy person to do that with.”

The energy changes. Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

"Oh yeah?" He rubs your thumb with his and soon you find yourselves holding hands.

"Yeah.”

“Sounds like we have a deal then, Shy Girl.”

Before Steve gets any ideas, you interrupt him.

“I don't wanna have sex at work," you admit. "Especially not on the clock."

"Oh, yeah I didn’t think it’d be now. Some people do find that hot though.”

"It's my first day. I can’t disappoint Eddie this early in the game.”

"You're kidding."

You shake your head.

"Wow, I would've thought you've been doing this a while."

You blush. "Thank you. But nope, you’re my Guinea pig.”

Steve continues to gawk in amazement. Then he reaches for his wallet, grabbing a huge wad of Benjamin Franklins and handing it to you.

"Tell you what," Steve bargains. "You buy yourself something nice, get your bills paid, and come through in a couple days. The roomie won't be home so we'll have the place to ourselves. We can get takeout or something too. Whatever makes you comfortable, of course.”

You bite your lip. "I'd like that."

“Good. I’d like that too.”

———-

"So, how was it?" you hear Eddie ask Steve.

"Dude...I just about creamed my pants," he says as you hold back laughter. "You got yourself a good one."

"Nothing's ever too TMI for you, Harrington," Eddie says. "But thanks for the imagery."

"Yeah. I gotta get going now. I got laundry to put away at home. It's been piling so much I think it's going to tip over."

“Roger,” Eddie says before bidding him goodbye. “Oh, speaking of which, did you tip her good?”

“You bet I did. Woman like her needs to be spoiled rotten.”

————

You make your way back to the dressing room after saying bye to Steve and finishing the flats Argyle had specially made for you. At your locker, you subtly attempt to count the hundreds Steve gave you for his lap dance and talk session. The man left you 10 of them. A whole band.

You were stunned. What did King Steve do for a living anyways? It didn’t matter to you. You had enough for groceries, gas, and a portion of your rent, all earned in an hour’s work, and all yours to keep as Eddie insisted.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat. You and your sister were good for the next few weeks.

Knock, knock.

“Don’t freak out ladies, it’s just me!” Eddie shouts from the other side of the door. “Put your cloaks on I’m coming in!”

You watch as the girls scurry to get their covers back on. The amount of respect Eddie has for his dancers is insane. Perhaps it’s common decency but it was such a striking difference than what you were used to. It warmed your heart in a way, but also made you sad. You deserved this respect all your life.

When Eddie finds you, he starts towards you, a look of approval spread wide across his face. As deeply as you wanted it to be because he found you attractive, you infer that it’s because you’re bringing in good business — and that you’re good, given a small amount of experience with the pole.

You two are face to face now. Eddie speaks up first.

“Steve, uh,” he says. “Steve really likes you.”

“Oh really?” you smile. “I’m glad.”

“You’re just a natural, Shy Girl,” he compliments you. “Everyone’s just raving about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Based on what I’ve seen so far and what Stevie told me, yeah,” he confirms. “But I guess it’s no surprise. Shy girls are almost always the freakiest, huh?”

You try not to laugh while you’re witnessing the imagination of your boss running in the complete opposite direction of what really happened between you and Steve. Nevertheless, you let him. You didn’t mind taking up space in your dashing boss’s mind.

“You should come to work a little early next time you’re on,” Eddie says. “I’d like to take you to lunch.”

Heat spreads across your cheeks. “Really?”

“‘Course! I do it with all my dancers as a welcome thing. I’d like to know more about you. You’re more than just a pretty face and someone who simply works for me.”

‘I do it with all my dancers.’

Your heart sinks. Back to square one.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m gonna head out now. Gonna go see the lady friend. I’ve got Johnny boy, Argyle, and Henry holding down the fort.”

The tinge in your heart intensifies.

“Oh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah, I rarely see her cuz she bartends. Even though we work similar hours we work opposite days. But she got first cut tonight so I’m heading over.”

“Have fun, Eddie.”

“I sure will,” Eddie says. “Goodnight, Shy Girl.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

Eddie soon disappears out of sight and now your shift seems ten times longer. Regardless, you stuff your tips into your tote bag and prepare to meander around the club, enticing other bachelors for a dance.

Without Eddie around, it seems less exciting.

“Doing it for Max,” you remind yourself while fixing your hair in the mirror in front of you.

You reach for your phone to see the amount of time that has transpired since the private show with Steve. But the clock wasn’t your concern when your Home Screen lights up.

Your heart nearly sinks to the floor.

Billy Hargrove

1 Missed Call

Billy Hargrove

iMessage: 1 message

You open it.

What the actual fuck.

[abandonedpost]

My Highest Worldly Bliss: Chapter One

@electronix-arts @traumatizedartist @sock-man37 @confettiiz @poltergeist-bunn (just tagging everyone who expressed some interest in the teaser — thank you so much by the way, I really appreciate it!)

Hi everyone! I know the poll isn’t technically over yet, but most people thus far voted for me to upload chapter one to Tumblr today, and had I waited… well “today” would’ve been over lol.

Here’s chapter one of my very first fic! Haha i feel so self-indulgent. Feel free to let me know what you think and give some feedback. Excuse the formatting issues! I’m new to this 🥲 Read it under the cut 👇🏼👇🏼

Soft white eyes met a glimmering violet glow.

And he knew, in earnest then, that he would never be the same.

——

Dawn broke over the horizon of Copper-9. The nearby sound of drilling overpowered Khan’s senses as he blinked sleep out of his eyes. The day greeted him like any other, with a sly grin and slap to the face. A long day in the shafts lay ahead.

He was never fully content living a life of servitude. The human masters had made his kind to mine their exoplanets, so each day, they would dig their way further through the bedrock, dust and hot air hanging heavy around them until it clogged their sensors and slicked their hair back. Yet the drone always longed for more: a life of his own; freedom from the shackles that kept him bound to the colliery.

Such were the dreams of an ambitious man. Better yet, a foolish man. He knew not to articulate his fantasies of revolt, or he’d have caught his death for it by now.

But Khan was lucky, his bright mind and ingenuity had impressed the humans. During a shaft collapse a few months back, he’d taken the reigns and stabilized the structure long enough to evacuate all the workers. Having saved them a pretty penny, the humans rewarded him with a promotion to construction. Meaning no more physical labor.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” The worker drone grabbed his clipboard, scanning the text to find his assignment. He flipped the page to find it in big bold letters, coupled with a map.

Cabin Fever Labs

Ceiling collapse on basement floor, building integrity compromised.

“Huh,” he thought, “Never heard of that place.”

Grabbing the map, he set out on his mission.

——

“Stop it! Don’t touch me!”

“The more you squirm, the more it’ll hurt, 002.”

“Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good, I swear!”

——

Khan didn’t expect the walk to take as long as it did. It felt like hours since he’d left the mines. His head was pounding, legs ached, and he contemplated giving up halfway.

“Screw the humans. They don’t deserve my help anyway.” He huffed, feeling the hot sun burn down on him.

Yet, against his better judgment, Khan persisted, wading through waist-high vegetation as he finally stumbled upon the Cabin Fever complex. It was at least ten stories high. Blacked-out windows lined the building in a grid-like pattern, and a large, metal door towered before the drone. It was locked, so he had no choice but to ring the bell.

A buzzer rang not long after. “State your name and the purpose of your visit,” came an annoyed voice on the other end.

“Uh, hello? I’m Khan. I-I’m here on behalf of JCJenson… to survey the ceiling collapse? I’m the Head of Construction at the copper mines.”

“Come in.” Another beep and Khan entered.

——

“Subject 002’s test results have been… alarming, to say the least.”

“What do you suppose we do?”

Purple eyes blinked open, and a blurry haze of white fluorescent light overwhelmed them. It took 002 a moment to realize where she was: the torture chamber, strapped to the patient bed. Everything hurt, and for a moment she cursed death for being too elusive a mercy for her. In the distance, she heard the voices of the Doctors.

Ever since that symbol had first plagued her processor they’d taken every opportunity to subject her to the latest “treatments”. Psychological torture, physical beatings, and solitary confinement had become staples of her daily routine.

“I think we ought to separate her and 048. It could be that two infected drones interacting is worsening the problem.”

This immediately set off alarms in 002’s mind. They couldn’t take 048 from her, she was the only good thing about this hellhole!

“I’ll inform Dr. Piers of the change. I’m sure we can accommodate 002 in 017’s room.”

Anger surged through her body. The mere thought of the Doctors taking the last good thing in her life away from her made 002 seethe. A thousand possibilities soared through her mind, until the symbol from her visions appeared in her hand once again.

“I said let me go!” A flash of violet light cut through the leather straps holding her down, and 002 fought back tears as she burst through the torture chamber door and down the hall.

——

Khan made his way to the basement of the labs, looking for the hall with the collapsed ceiling.

“There you are.” He whispered once he finally found his assignment. It was… a disturbing site to say the least. The ceiling tiles had been shattered beyond recognition, seemingly by force, and the wall nearby had been splattered with… oil? It sent a chill up his chassis.

He began surveying the damage when a female voice picked up behind him.

“So… they finally let someone see what goes on down here, huh? You some fresh meat or sumthin’?”

Khan was startled, jumping a bit before turning around, and then his shock turned to awe as he laid eyes on the most beautiful drone he’d ever seen. Her clothes were plain: a sleeveless grey dress, ID tag, gloves, and no shoes. Yet there was an undeniable fervor in her eyes, which were the most brilliant shade of purple-pink.

“Helloooo?” she asked, “Ya still in there or?” She tapped her fingers on his faceplate, effectively snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh— hi miss?” He tried to form a full sentence but was too taken aback, a vibrant white blush forming on his cheeks.

The woman played with the ends of her lavender hair and stifled a giggle, “I’ve never had a guy get flustered over me before. You sure you don’t belong down here with the rest of us defects?”

Embarrassed, Khan tried to reassert himself, “Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the Head of Construction, and I’m here to survey the ceiling collapse. Do you need help with something?”

——

Now that ticked 002 off. She couldn’t believe it! This… cute weird, weird man with a hard hat and too much audacity had the nerve to waltz into her home and ask her if she needed his help!

“Okay, nuance alert ‘ma’am,’” she said mockingly, “You’re in my neck of the woods right now! So how about we switch up the roles and ask if you need my help, hmm?” And to really get her point across, 002 held up three fingers, and the symbol appeared once more. In an instant, all the damage had been undone.

——

“Oh, uh. What was that?” It was a stupid question, but the construction worker couldn’t think of any other way to phrase it.

He watched as a deep, violet-pink blush covered the woman’s face. She crossed her arms and huffed, stepping backward “It’s uhm… it’s nothing. Just a virus I have,” Then her voice got quiet, “Bet it freaks you out, huh? Just like everyone else.”

Khan was about to say something to the contrary when heavy footsteps began racing down the hall. Humans. He watched as the purple lady’s eyes went hollow and she stepped back.

“I-I need to go,” she stammered, “I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.”

“Wait!” He shouted back, but it was too late. He caught a final glimpse of her light as the beautiful violet woman turned a corner and disappeared.

“I didn’t even get your name…”

[mattslolita]

STURNIOLO TRIPLETS as LANA DEL REY SONGS!

nick!

🎵.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎶๋࣭ ⭑👾🎵.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎶๋࣭ ⭑👾🎵.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎶๋࣭ ⭑👾🎵.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎶๋࣭ ⭑👾🎵.𖥔 ݁ ˖🎶๋࣭ ⭑

001. white mustang!

002. summertime sadness!

003. ultraviolence!

004. the other women!

005. high by the beach!

006. art deco!

007. cherry!

008. summer bummer! ft. asap rocky, plaboi carti

009. norman fucking rockwell!

010. young and beautiful!

011. video games!

012. fuck it i love you!

013. born to die!

014. carmen!

chris!

𐙚‧₊˚🧡✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚🧡✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚🧡✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚🧡✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡𐙚‧₊˚

001. off to the races!

002. diet mountain dew!

003. million dollar man!

004. lolita!

005. west coast!

006. serial killer! ( unreleased )

007. doin time!

008. venice bitch!

009. dealer!

010. jealous girl! ( unreleased )

011. radio!

012. black beauty!

013. groupie love! ft. asap rocky

014. cola!

matt!

✩°🌊⋆⸜ 🎧✮🫧✩°🌊⋆⸜ 🎧✮🫧✩°🌊⋆⸜ 🎧✮🫧✩°🌊⋆⸜ 🎧✮🫧✩°

001. trash magic! ( unreleased )

002. national anthem! ( @angelbrainrot i giggled )

003. ride!

004. body electric!

005. pretty when you cry!

006. music to watch boys to!

007. in my feelings!

008. lust for life! ft. the weeknd

009. you can be the boss! ( unreleased )

010. love!

011. shades of cool!

012. happiness is a butterfly!

013. say yes to heaven!

014. peppers! ft. tommy genesis

( lilly's section 💌 )

i love making these so much, & i love lana so much. anyways i love u guys, u can always request an artist if you'd like !💌

[thornthebombay]

#002 Servine

Pokemon Black and White regional dex 000-156

[freshthoughts2020]

[aboutkiyoomi]

002. apple of my pie | onigiri cravings

cw: cursing/swearing, akaashi is still an ass i'm sorry & of course a splash of angst.

the sunlight flooded through the open windows of the kitchen as he set his keys down in his office, placing the rest of his belongings on the desk. it had been about a month since osamu last visited his tokyo location of onigiri miya. his hair was still slightly damp, and his black t-shirt, bearing the beautiful onigiri miya logo, clung tightly to his torso.

without wasting any time, he ran his hands through his hair, pulled on his cap, and tied his apron around his waist. this was osamu miya's daily routine—simple and efficient but adhered to with precision, especially on busy days like this.

he immediately turned on his music, and "lone (instrumental)" by tyler, the creator began to fill the restaurant. he followed his food safety precautions, washing his hands before starting the day's prep. he washed the rice and put it on the industrial stove, alongside some soba noodles he had set out. the rhythmic chopping and mincing focused his mind, his razor-sharp precision enhancing both the flavor and presentation of his food. he allowed himself to relax, mellowing out in the blissful peace of the moment.

meanwhile, y/n was just gathering her things, prepared to go to work and gossip with iwa, who had news about his romantic endeavors with his best friend, oikawa. as you padded into the study, looking for your shoes that you had haphazardly thrown in after a shift, your eyes fell upon akaashi, curled up comfortably on the futon pushed awkwardly into the corner.

you scoffed, memories of last night playing in your mind.

"i thought i didn't care, y/n. make up your fucking mind," he had said, arms thrown up in exasperation as he bee-lined for the couch.

"you're fucking right, akaashi. you don't care. and since you want to act like such an entitled asshole, you can sleep out here. don't come cuddle up next to me until you figure out what's crawled up your ass and died," you had yelled, your voice rising higher than you intended, tears spilling unintentionally.

"grow up," he muttered, stomping out of the house with nothing but his wallet, keys, and phone.

the house felt bitter and stale. you stood there, tears falling unknowingly. it had been like this for almost a week and a half now—constant arguments, insults flying, and petty silence. it was driving you insane, draining you to argue with someone who obviously wasn't for you anymore.

back in the present, your eyes fell, disappointment and guilt prickling at your heart. you silently picked up your shoes, slipped them on, and exited the house. you sent a text, just letting him know you left so he wouldn't worry, if he even cared anymore.

as you walked to work, the bags under your eyes felt sore, and your body ached from the stress of the past few days. between the incessant arguing with akaashi, studying for your upcoming nclex, and being present for your new friends and coworkers, you were drained.

when you arrived at onigiri miya, your eyes widened slightly upon seeing the lights on and the restaurant seemingly occupied. you wondered if someone had arrived before you, despite being scheduled to open.

after tapping in your employee id, you pushed into the store. the scents of garlic, mirin, and soft notes of sugar wafted over you. curious and slightly cautious, you peered into the kitchen. the scene before you was beautiful.

osamu was mixing a bowl of ingredients, swaying slowly to pink + white by frank ocean. he seemed focused and calm, in his element. your mind raced, wondering who this could be. you didn't remember any new chefs being hired, and no one would be so comfortable working freely in the kitchen. your thoughts were interrupted by a gruff but gentle voice.

"ya gonna gawk some more, or ya gonna come in?" a bright, generous smile followed. "i don't bite, i promise." his smile relaxed as he casually stirred his pot of boiling noodles.

your face grew warm with embarrassment. you shuffled in, dropped your belongings in the break room, and donned your apron before quietly entering the kitchen.

"i'm assuming yer the new hire? yachi never did let me know what yer name was," he sighed fondly, probably thinking about yachi's unwavering flusteredness when approached about minor mistakes in her work. "my poor ma woulda' knocked my head off. where are my manners? 'm osamu miya." his hand extended politely, lightbulbs blaring in your mind as you internally face-palmed before shaking his hand.

"oh… i'm sorry. i'm, uh, y/n l/n," you introduced yourself, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "i'm so sorry, i didn't even remember that you would be here." you rubbed your eyes slowly, still tired.

"don't worry 'bout it. i'm not too strict or anything like that. i just like to get an early start. ignore me. feel free to do what ya normally do." he smiled warmly, and you sighed contentedly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. work could still be your safe space away from the unrelenting akaashi mess and the stress of your upcoming exam.

you smiled warmly and nodded before going to the front of the store to continue your usual opening duties, even making your signature green tea drink in an attempt to wake yourself up. osamu cooked quietly in the kitchen, the music and sounds of his work filling the space. the morning went off without a hitch, calm and warmth filling your body as you finished your opening tasks.

you sat on your "gossip bench," conveniently named by the gossip king himself, sugawara koushi. you pulled out your textbook, which you kept there to study whenever you had a free moment. you sat silently, eyes scanning over the masses of notes scribbled in the book.

osamu walked into the front, glancing around before noticing you huddled up in the corner, reading your textbook. when his eyes caught you, focused and determination spewing from your features. his stomach got that sinking feeling, his mind clouding as he stared shamelessly.

"medical terminology?" his voice poured into your ear, syrupy and sweet and your eyes flicked up to meet his.

"yup, this nclex isn't gonna pass itself," you muttered, a wry smile on your face.

"wow, that's a nursin' exam, right?" he asked, leaning against the counter, towering over you in a way that felt comforting rather than intimidating. almost like you were with your usual coworkers, who had grown to become some of your good friends over the past few months.

"yup, this is my last big hurdle before graduation. well, i have to pass this to even graduate," you muttered, your eyes drifting worriedly.

"well, i'm sure yer just as smart as you are beautiful. you'll pass with flyin' colors." he smiled ear to ear, leaving you no time to reply before walking off to begin plating his new recipes.

and that was the first time that you had ever truly noticed the man that osamu miya was.

a/n: i hope you all hated (enjoyed so much) my terrible (ahmazing) pun that is the title of this chapter. we finally meet osamu, thankfufreakinglyyyy. i'm so excited for the coming chapters, thank u guys for being patient. don't worry y/n will not cheat, i'm killing off the akaashiyn agenda quickly.

taglist (open): @wyrcan @nightlybakes @anyalou @boogiemansbitch @peppersapro @wave2mia @applepi25

[fl-wer]

◠◠　⠀𓈒⠀⠀ ♡◟　　⚔️　　◞♡　⠀𓈒⠀⠀　◠♡

๑　　₊　˙　︵︵　001　　⑅　◞

₊　˙　　　𝄞 ྀི　　general　　rules

♡　　⠀⤹⠀　　I am one person. Please be patient with your requests, and do not ask me about them if they haven’t been done yet.

⠀𓈒⠀⠀　𓂃　　basic　dni　‘extended’

　 ⸝⸝　　⠀◡◡⠀　　no beings older than 22.

๑　　₊　˙　︵︵　002　　⑅　◞

₊　˙　　　𝄞 ྀི　　request　　rules

⌕⠀　˙　⠀。　　little to no media i wont do.　　

　　 ’　　req time　　1-3 days max　　ㅤ𝜗𝒞ㅤ

　black　　+　　 white　　list　⠀𓈒⠀ .co / gwenti

　　　 ⿸　　semi　/　nsfw　　∬　i wont do.

๑　　₊　˙　︵︵　003　　⑅　◞

₊　˙　　　𝄞 ྀི　　social　　rules

　₊　˙　 ｡ ⠀ㅤ۫　　ask　　for　　them

　　　an energetic texter　　.　　◠◠　　⠀⠀˲˲

　　　　　shy at first　　　❜ㅤ　⠀𓏏𓏏⠀⠀

⪩⪨ㅤ　⠀―⠀ 　　mostly disc　　!!　　　₊　˙　

　　　.co / rins　　:　　⑅　♡　main rentry

๑　　₊　˙　︵︵　extra　　⑅　◞

I recommend light mode when you’re on my page! I don’t transparent stuff like this because it looks better with a white BG. I’m fifteen, and can get pretty busy at times, so be patient with your reqs.

@ harbingers. on discord. (you might know me!)

Creds for resources: @/phaea , @/frilliette , @/selysie (all divs/frames) , @/velaazuretail for inspo ^_^

[rxcya]

002. SIGN OF THE TIMES.

hi ! this is my SECOND ever doc template, yes I did come back for round two, and i’m very proud of it <3. I worked pretty hard on this doc, trying a lot of new things out. if you are planning on using this doc ( blushing ) please do not remove the credits. 

・the link to the doc can be found in the source link! ・sign of the times is a new york times themed doc with certain layouts taken directly from the new york times website! ( https://www.nytimes.com/ ) a prime example of this being the first page of the doc! it has a black and white color palette as well that can be altered with different pictures and different colors of font! ・the doc itself is roughly 6 pages and consists of character synopsis, basic information, appearance, appearance description, personality, personality description, backstory, 11 connections with brief descriptions and 3 word descriptions and many bullets for extra notes or headcanons! ・it also has room for 15 different pictures of your character and 11 pictures for connections! ・sign of the times is not a mobile friendly doc. it just looks funky and overlaps a lot on mobile. also, there are several google drawings that are not accessible for mobile users! ・the faceclaim shown on the doc is @selenagomez on instagram ・likes and reblogs are SO appreciated, thank you SO much for your support!               - quickly, i’d like to regard the title “The New York Times”         - i fully understand if you want to change the title to something else ! but to do so, you’ll have to use an outside source.          - you’ll have to find a website that offers the new york times font for download. ( I used https://www.fontspace.com/category/new-york-times )         - type in what you want your title to be, download the image or screenshot it and then replace the image on the doc itself !         - i know its inconvenient, and i’m so sorry ! if you’re unable to do it, contact me and we’ll work it out! 

again, this is only my 2nd ever doc template ! i’m still learning the route of things and how to utilize doc’s in the best way. with that aside, i’d like to thank all of you for the great response i got on my last doc and my 1st doc, claremont st. it was so motivating and i am so so so appreciative! if you do have any suggestions or questions, feel free to DM me ! this can either be on tumblr, or on discord. my @ is rxcya#7080. with that being said, here is sign of the times, a doc by RXCYA 7.28.23

[unforgivable-miracles]

<𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗛> temp. 002

a half dark blue-green, half black-and-white theme with dark angel pictures. the categories include: a general profile, appearance, personality, history, roleplay example, and connections pages. any of the text can be changed but i recommend keeping the length of the text so that the format doesn't change.

#instructions

do not get rid of credits

if you don't know how to edit already: file > make a copy

after copying, go to: share > settings (top right icon) > uncheck both/the bottom setting.

it makes it easier if you just do replace images with the pictures. unfortunately, the psd is not available only because i did not save the colouring.

dm me if you have any questions or even requests! im open to anything and if you think there is something wrong, please talk to me about it.

download the document here . . .