#I got sketches and stuff that have been hanging around

[caged-nights]

🌿pipe dream, noun : an illusory or fantastic plan, hope, or story

"She knew her hopes for any sort of peace were merely a pipe dream."

A redraw of a very old piece back from... I want to say around 2020? So, the original piece is about 4 years old now. I've come quite the long way with Venueri's design and image!

I finished this piece on a stream too after letting it sit for 3 weeks, I really need to be able to sit still long enough to do complete pieces.

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Two - Until Next Time

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

2K

Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive slight choking! Forceful sex! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this

Series Masterlist

The feeling of guilt didn't leave Bob for the rest of the day. He couldn't stop thinking about her, thinking about whether he'd ruined some important work or sketches that meant a lot to her or something. And then he thought about the coffee he had spilt over her lap. Was it burning hot? Did she have to go to the hospital instead of back to work? God, he hoped not. 

He didn't have work that day, but it didn't mean that he, Jake and Natasha weren't hanging out. Normally they wouldn't run to the cafe to get coffee on a day like this, not when they had Natasha's coffee machine so close by. 

Jake offered him a cigarette as the three of them sat on the back porch. Bob took it, placing it between his lips. But he didn't light it, not yet. 

"Anybody want a coffee?" Asked Natasha. She stubbed out her own cigarette and stood up. 

But, before she could get to her back door, Bob was there. "I'll get them!" He said quickly. "Latte and a black coffee, right?" He asked. But he gave them no time to answer and took off, leaving through Natasha's front door. 

"What the hell was that?" Jake asked as he watched Bob disappear out of the front door. 

Natasha returned to the porch to sit beside her fellow pilot turned Top Gun instructor. "I seriously don't know," she said, turning to Jake, her eyebrows raised. 

"You think there's a girl involved?"

"With our Baby On Board?" Asked Natasha, her eyebrows raised. "Maybe it's the cute barista, the one with the pink hair," she suggested. 

Jake looked back towards the door, but Bob was long gone by now. "Should we follow him?"

She shook her head. "He's getting us coffee. We can grill him once the cup is in my hand."

***

Bob didn't light his cigarette. He placed it in his pocket as he grabbed something, a notebook, from the passenger seat of his truck. 

As soon as he had the notebook tucked under his arm, Bob set off, heading to the café. There was no guarantee she'd be there. He just had to hope.

He didn't see her when he first walked in. No, he was looking for a girl in a blouse and a grey pencil skirt. He wasn’t looking for someone dressed down in a sweater and jeans, hair pulled back out of her face. He wasn't looking at the back of the cafe, was expecting her at the front. 

Bob walked up to the counter. He got the black coffee, the latte, and the tea (he might have been a coffee man, but it wasn’t always his go to. Sometimes there was nothing better than a good cup of tea). 

When he turned back around, his drinks in the cupholder, he finally spotted her. 

The sweater was blue, knitted. The sleeves were folded at the wrists, probably too long. The legs of her jeans were too long, hiding the shoes on her feet. She was undeniably pretty, something Bob didn’t notice the first time around. But, in his defence, he was too busy fumbling. Again she had a cup full of coffee in front of a notebook with brown pages. The notebook he had ruined just days before. 

When Bob approached, she didn't look up, desperately trying to read beneath the coffee stains. 

For a moment, Bob didn't know what to do. He looked around and awkwardly cleared his throat. 

Finally, she looked up, meeting his gaze. There was a second before she recognised him. "If you’re here to throw another coffee over me, I'm begging you find another victim." 

Bob managed a weak laugh as he set his own drinks down, this time without spilling any. "Actually, that's why I'm here," he said, grabbing the notebook from under his arm. "I saw that I ruined your notebook yesterday and I'm really sorry about that. I can't get back the stuff I ruined on the pages, but I was hoping this would help. Even if just a little."

Bob held the notebook out to her, their fingers touching as she took it from him. The cover was pink, with nothing else on it. She opened the notebook to find the lined pages. It was exactly what she needed. 

Placing the notebook beneath her ruined one, she looked up at Bob. "What's your name?" She asked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in her chair. 

"Robert Floyd, ma'am. But everybody calls me Bob."

"Do you wanna have a drink with me, Bob?" She asked as she picked up her mug and took a sip. She put the mug back down and licked the coffee moustache from her top lip. "Maybe then you can buy me a replacement drink."

Bob nodded. He pulled off the lid of his takeaway cup, added the sachet of milk and the sachet of sugar to his tea. 

She took another long sip of her coffee. "You're an aviator, aren’t you?" She asked. 

Bob couldn't help but smile at that. "Uh, yeah. I was in Top Gun last year. I'm an instructor now."

She nodded slowly. "You hang out at The Hard Deck?"

Bob gave a quick nod and stirred his steaming tea.

"Yeah, I went down there once," she said. "One of your guys flirted with me, and my boyfriend got so angry he got us kicked out." She had been smiling for most of the sentence. But, as soon as she had said it, the smile dropped from her face.

Boyfriend. Bob tried not to dwell on that. He wasn't here to get her attention in that way. No, he was here to make things right.

"Let me guess," he began. "He was tall, spoke with a Texas accent, and the name on his uniform said 'Hangman'."

Suddenly, she let out a snort. "No freaking way," she said through giggles as she looked at him. "You actually know him? That's hilarious!"

Bob couldn't help but laugh along with her. It was infectious and, as soon as he saw her face light up, Bob realised he couldn't get enough. "Yeah, that sounds like Hangman, all right," he said. All this time he had been mindlessly stirring his tea. 

Bob shifted the conversation away from his friend and co-worker. "Do you come in here often?" He asked and lifted his tea to his lips. 

She moved her head from side to side. Not saying no, but more like she was unsure. "I... do now," she said and finished her drink. 

Bob's eyes moved to the notebooks in front of her. The one he ruined and the one that replaced it. "What were you working on? You know, before I interrupted."

When she didn't immediately reply, Bob assumed the worst. He had overstepped and she no longer wanted to sit and drink coffee with him. 

She sucked in a breath, drumming her nails against the table. "Bob, did you ever have a vision for your life? You know, imagine the way you wanted to be loved, the way you wanted to love someone?" She asked, her eyes staring at the floor. If she saw when Bob slowly nodded, she didn’t indicate. "I did. But life threw curveballs my way."

She didn't say much more than that. Bob waited, his boiling tea in his hands as he looked at the disassociated look on her face. "Are you," he began, leaning forward in his seat with his arms on the table, "are you writing a romance story?"

She seemed to snap back into it, embarrassment written on her face and she sat up. That was all the confirmation Bob needed that, yes, she was writing a romance story. 

"You've got to let me read it."

The look she shot at him could only be described as incredulous. "You have got to be kidding me, Bobby," she said, the corner of her lips twitching up. "I barely know you."

Suddenly, Bob was feeling brave. Maybe it was because her words sounded like an invitation. "Well, let me get you another drink and you can get to know me.”

Conversation with Bob was easy. He bought her the hazelnut latte with oat milk, just as she had asked (okay, maybe she was splurging a little) and sat in the seat opposite her, still working on his own tea. He was only too eager to talk about his life, growing up in Montana and how he had ended up in San Diego. 

She listened, actually laughing when Bob attempted a joke (even if it wasn't very good). She talked back, offering up stories from her own life, making her own jokes, the kind that had him blushing red. 

By the time they finished talking, their respective drinks had gone cold (the ones Bob had bought for Jake and Natasha hours before had been forgotten, already thrown in the bin). 

"Crap," she said as she began putting her notebooks in her bag. "I didn't realise it had gotten so late." 

"Got somewhere you need to be?" Bob asked. Because, really, he didn't want to leave this cafe, didn't want the night to end. 

She shook her head. But then she stopped and gave a contemplative look. "Well, I should get going home," she said, pulling her jacket on and placing the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "But I hate walking in the dark."

"I can walk you."

He'd said it so quickly, he barely registered that he said anything at all. But he had and he couldn't take it back. 

"What, so you can find out where I live?" She challenged with a teasing smile. "You're a little stalker, aren’t you, Bobby? That's how you knew I'd be here today."

There was a split second, a fraction of a split second, where anxiety took over and Bob thought she was being serious. But then she laughed and he visibly relaxed. She was teasing him, and doing a damned good job of it. 

When she took his hand and pulled him out of the cafe, Bob's chest was hot. He'd known her a few hours and already there were feelings there. But she made it so easy for him. And that just simply wasn't fair (Bob knew she was a taken woman; she had told him. No matter what his feelings were, he hadn't acted on them and he wouldn't act on them. Feelings without action weren't bad, right?)

"So, why do you hate walking in the dark?" He asked as she led him to the end of the street. 

She shrugged her shoulders. "Always have," she answered quickly. "When I was a kid I had these vivid, awful nightmares of getting snatched off the street in the dark and I guess I never grew out of it."

Bob nodded. It was fair enough, really. He was sure if he had nightmares as a kid that were bad enough to follow him into adulthood, he'd still be scared of the cause. "I'm scared of slugs and snails," he said suddenly, easing the slight tension in the air. 

"What?" She asked before she let out a laugh. "But they're so cute!"

Bob shook his head. "They're not cute! When I was a kid I stepped on one and it exploded between my toes," he defended.

She stopped walking. "Bobby, you're gross," she said with a laugh and turned to the apartment building behind her. "Well, this is me," she said, fishing through her bag for a key. "Now you can properly stalk me." 

She found the key in the very bottom of her bag. "It was nice to properly meet you, Bob," she said, the joking tone gone from her voice. "Thanks for walking me home." 

"Until next time?" He offered, unable to keep hope out of his voice. 

"Until next time," she echoed as walked into her apartment building. 

But, before the door could shut, Bob caught it. “Wait!” He cried as she started up the stairs. He couldn't follow her, that would have been too much. “What's your name?”

“Until next time!”

Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @burningwitchprincess

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi Ro! I know I'm late to this party, but can I get B and F for Steve?

Thank you! 💜

Never too late, darling! This is tumblr, not a job 😁

This one got away with me. It got weirdly sappy for the categories asked, but I went with general Steve from no particular universe here, plus a nondescript part of the timeline or beyond, could even kinda be AU--if you squint--except Steve is definitely famous in some capacity and was small when young. (I just think he happens to look very cuff-able in this gif so we roll with it.)

These dirty asks from this game are aptly titled, so MINORS DNI.

B - Bondage

He can't exactly be tied up, not by anything commercially available, but Steve surprisingly likes the chance to sit still, take a backseat, and enjoy experiencing your enjoyment. He used to be so small. He assumed he'd never have the power he does now.

The restraints, as useless as they are, work as a calming tool to shut off his brain for a while. He's not responsible for anything. That's nice. Very freeing. The act of binding him is in itself roleplay; he's playing small and weak.

He's noticed something else, too.

Over the weeks and months you two have repeated this ritual of tying him up, and you both understand just how much it doesn't remotely hurt him, you've grown...more aggressive with the bonds. It's only when you're tying them--never an ounce of it in anything that follows--but he watches and realizes that you relieve frustration by pulling harder, knotting tighter, heaving around until their just so.

At this point, since Steve can do nothing else, he loves to see it. He's heard short and vague accounts from you, of shitty behavior, of innuendo, of back-handed compliments about how you do so well even with Steve. How his reputation must boost you. How you don't have to work so hard or be good because he'll carry you. How your accomplishments are all tied to him somehow.

It's not true, but they say it. They mean it. Steve can do nothing but let you physically yoke him down in your life, even for a few minutes. The weight it seems to lift from your shoulders is worth any momentary sting he might feel.

No. Steve doesn't mind the bonds at all. He even hates that you can't restrain him for real. He wishes he could give you that. Then people might see that you're just that powerful and you've always been that strong. He had nothing to do with it.

Okay, one sec, let me pull myself together here. YIKES.

F - Food Play

[Fools Rush In Steve a.k.a. Sketch is notoriously anti-crumbs-in-the-bed, so he is 1000% not a part of this convo. Sorry, bub.]

YUP. Steve loves to feed you. It's a care thing. He always wants your opinion of all the food on the table, so you have to try everything. Here! Try this. The fork is already by your lips and he's smiling eagerly.

In the bedroom? Oh yes, he is very fond of licking sweet things off you and having them licked off him. It's one of the things that seems to tickle Steve the most--body and soul--and it's so playful. He even gets to lean into having a fast metabolism and needing calories after his workouts. If he drizzles honey or chocolate syrup on you, or hilariously fizzes too much whipped cream out of the canister he has not gotten the hang of yet, then that's a snack and a half. That's multitasking. That's just good time management, ya know?

Savory stuff is for meals and the table though. There's none of that that gets played with during sex. He's never outright said that's a rule, but it seems obvious when there's never been a crossover event.

Super random shout out to Steve having a bit of a thing for champagne and licking it off your neck after he deliberately splashes or pours it there. The bubbles tickle like hell and the cold is so shocking, but whatever, he loves it.

🙄

Thank you for asking!

Ack, I can feel in my bones that the bondage one might end up as a one shot. I am in so much trouble.

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[irb-pascalito-99]

Text you Later

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Joel calls while at work for some lunch time shenanigans.

Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, pictures, dirty talk, praise, semi public sex

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter twelve of my ongoing fic Always an Angel, Never a God to read more visit A03.

I try to ignore the buzz of my phone in my back pocket as I carry my end of the armoire. Bill huffs when I adjust the piece of furniture in my arms. Once we’re in position we put the legs down carefully.

I automatically pull out my phone to check my texts once my hands are free. A smile spreads across my face when I see it’s Joel again.

Joel: Meet up for lunch?

I bite my lip and look up at Bill who has continued to walk around the store adjusting other items. I lean my hip against the armoire as I type out my reply.

Me: Can’t :( leaving early today for Ellie’s appointment

Frank appears over my shoulder as I press send. I jump as he attempts to glance at the screen.

“Who you texting?” He asks with a sly smile. I shove the phone back in my pocket. I shrug in response and walk toward the front counter. “A man?”

“No Frank,” I lie. “It was just Maria asking if we could hang out tonight.”

The look on his face says he clearly doesn’t believe me. I ignore the next buzz from my phone, and the one that comes immediately after.

“Okay then…” Frank says. “Well I just wanted to see if you wanted this desk we just got in. I know you mentioned wanting to get something Ellie can use in that room.”

Ellie and I agreed to change our parents’ room to an art space the two of us can use. We’ve already packed all the stuff that remains there in boxes. Joel helped put them in the attic for safekeeping. Tomorrow everyone is coming over to help move the furniture out and paint the walls

I follow Frank to the back of the store where we keep the inventory before we put it out. While his back is turned to me I quickly pull out my phone to respond to Joel.

Joel: But I miss you…

Joel: Can we call at least?

Me: Give me like 15 minutes ;)

I throw my phone back in my pocket as Frank stops in front of an old writer’s desk. I run my hand along the cherry stained wood. It’s in great condition, probably worth a decent amount of money.

There’s a lot of drawers as well. I open a couple, they seem decently deep so Ellie could probably store a decent amount of supplies in it. She’s been getting really into sketching lately so a place where she could sit and draw would be really nice.

“How much do you want for it?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it,” I turn to Frank as he waves his hand. I give him a frustrated look, while I appreciate his generosity it doesn’t feel right to constantly like Frank and Bill take care of me. I don’t want to be their charity case, but Frank won’t hear it. “Think of it as me supporting local artists. You can pay us back with a painting or have Ellie draw something.”

“I’m sure Bill would love whatever she draws of him,” I joke. Frank laughs. I run my hand over the wood again. It would really mean a lot for Ellie to have her own dedicated space in the room.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Frank grins as I concede. He pulls a SOLD sign out of his back pocket and puts it on top of the desk.

“I’ll have Bill load it up when we come over tomorrow.” He says.

He wraps an arm around me while we walk back up front. I feel my phone buzz again. Frank must hear the sound of the vibration because he looks at me amusedly.

“Maria again?” I shrug and walk around the counter to keep myself busy until I can find an excuse to go somewhere private and talk to Joel. “Girl can’t seem to get enough today, you’ve been glued to that phone all morning.”

“It’s probably that contractor guy,” Bill grumbles from across the room. I snap my head to him, trying to keep the blush off my cheeks. “The one she’s all goo-goo eyes for.”

So much for not blushing. I try to hide my burning face from view of Bill and Frank. I feel like a child caught crushing on the popular boy at school.

“Ahh yeah, Joel right?” Frank says. He turns back to me. “Is he coming to help tomorrow?”

“Joel? I think so. I know Maria said Tommy’s coming to help out with the muscle so I’d imagine Joel would be there too.” I try to act casual, but my voice comes out slightly higher than normal.

“Hmm, yeah we know that one has some muscle,” Frank says. I blush even more, just barely managing to stop myself from dropping my jaw at Frank’s comment.

“Sounds like you’re the one with the crush, Frank.” Frank laughs.

“Just making an observation,” he chides. “I think you could use a man like that…”

“Stop,” I beg. I hide my face in my hands. Frank laughs. Bill walks over to help a customer who just walked in while Frank pats me on the shoulder. “I’m taking a break.”

Frank shakes his head, still laughing. I walk toward the back of the shop. I take one more look over my shoulder before I disappear into the backroom.

I make my way to the bathroom and pull out my phone. I lean against the bathroom wall as I call Joel. He answers almost immediately.

“Someone’s needy today,” I joke. I make sure to keep my voice down so anyone who is outside of the bathroom door can’t hear.

“Babygirl, you have no idea.” I shudder at his nickname for me. His voice is deep with a sultry thickness pouring out like molasses. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t seen you all week, it’s killing me.”

“I know,” I respond. I half whisper into the phone. “I’m sorry, I miss you too. It’s just been crazy with work and Ellie. Getting Ellie caught up with classes has been rough. Turns out I’m really bad at math…”

“Darlin’ why are you whisperin’?” Joel asks.

“I’m in the bathroom at the shop. I don’t want Bill and Frank to hear me, they’ve already been making jokes about me crushing on you. I don't need them to hear anything else.” Joel laughs on the other end. “Stop that, it’s not funny!”

“Sorry sweetheart, but it kinda is.” I roll my eyes. “So you’re crushing on me huh?”

“Shut up,” I grumble. Joel laughs again and then the line goes silent.

“So…what are you wearing?”

“Oh, so it’s one of those phone calls. You’re really over there making fun of me while you’re waiting for me to help you get off?” I tease.

“Well I was going to pick you up and fuck you on a back road in my truck somewhere, but someone couldn’t get away from work.” I whimper at the thought.

It has been getting increasingly harder to sneak around these days. I’ve had to put so much focus on Ellie in order to prove to Marlene that things are solid with us. Joel has been extremely understanding, and my relationship with Ellie has never been better, but it’s been frustrating not to have alone time with him.

“You like that huh? Want to ride my cock in the front seat of my car, naughty girl.” I feel my pussy start to drip at his words. Fuck, I need him. “Go on, tell me what you’re wearing princess.”

“I can send you a picture…” I say. I smile when I hear Joel groan.

I position myself in front of the mirror and adjust my clothes a bit. I pull my neckline down a bit to show off more of my breasts. I turn to the side slightly so he can see the curve of my ass and then hook my thumb in the top of my jeans and pull them down just enough that he can see the top of my lacy black panties.

I take a couple pictures until I get one that I really like and send it over to him. I hear him moan when I pull the phone back to my ear, and then the sound of his belt clinking as he undoes it.

“Another baby, please. Let me see you.” I go back to the door and crack it open for a second. I don’t see anyone outside so I close it and lock the door.

I walk back to the mirror, setting the phone on the counter for a second, and take off my shirt. I push my jeans off as well and stand in front of the mirror wearing only my bra and underwear. I should be embarrassed doing this in the store bathroom, but a rush if adrenaline pumps through my veins as I position myself in front of the mirror. I nice one hand down, ghosting the lips of my pussy on the outside of my panties. I bite my lip and throw my head back, taking the picture and immediately sending it to Joel.

“Fuckk baby, so pretty for me.” I moan quietly at his praise. “Touch yourself gorgeous. Touch that pretty pussy for me. I want to hear you.”

I lean against the wall again and snake my fingers inside my underwear. I run them through my soaking folds, my underwear drenched as I hear the faint slapping sound of Joel’s fist moving up and down his cock.

“Oh Joel, I’m so wet for you,” I moan, making sure to keep my voice down.

Joel groans and a shiver runs down my spine. I dip two fingers inside my hole, my thumb starting to make circle motions. I whimper into the phone as I start to pump my fingers in and out. I try to match my pace to the sounds of Joel jacking off on the other end of the line. He moans loudly at my noises.

“Tell me what you’re doin’ right now sugar. What’s makin’ you make those sweet little noises?” He starts to pick up his pace, panting into the phone desperately.

“I’m touching myself.” I huff. “I got…got two fingers inside… wish it was your fingers, or your cock. Fuck, Joel wish you were splitting me open right now.”

Joel groans again, the sounds of him pumping himself getting louder.

“God, babygirl fuck. I wish I was there too.” I speed up my fingers, my climax building as he goes on. “Wish it was your pussy clenching around my cock right now instead of my hand. Got me fuckin’ jackin’ off in a goddamn parking lot, that’s what you do to me.”

I moan, a little louder than I probably should have. I move the phone to rest between my face and shoulder so I can cover my mouth as my other hand continues to move underneath my panties. I close my eyes and picture him in his truck outside his job site, thrusting his cock into his hands with his phone to his ear.

“Can anyone see you?” I ask. Joel chuckles darkly at my question.

“I don’t think so, not right now,” he grunts into the phone again. “Why gorgeous? That get you off? You like the idea of me gettin’ caught fuckin’ my fist to the thought of you?”

My stomach tightness and I moan again. I’m so close. So fucking close.

“Yeah, I think it does.” His words send another wave of pleasure through me. I’m right on the edge. “I think you like what you do to me. Think you like how desperate you make me, can’t stop thinkin’ of that pussy all goddamn week. You gettin’ close baby?”

“Yes, god yes, Joel please don’t stop.” Joel groans again.

“That’s it darlin’, I’m almost there too. Come for me babygirl. Come for me.”

I keep pumping my fingers in and out of my pussy until I’m finally pushed over the edge, panting and moaning around my other hand as I try to muffle my noises.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to follow. His groans sound more animal than human as I hear him pump his cock a couple more times and then stop. We both pant into the phone as we come down.

After my heart slows down I walk back to my discarded shirt and jeans on the floor and put them back on. I hear Joel’s belt clink again on the other line as well.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” Joel asks as I straighten my shirt in the mirror.

“Yes, but remember it’s going to be a full house so you need to behave,” I remind him. He scoffs at my remark.

“Darlin’ I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” I chuckle at his remark.

“Would a gentleman jack himself off in a parking lot in the middle of the day?” I ask.

“You got me there,” he laughs. “But I’ll do my best to keep my hands to myself tomorrow, no matter how hard it’ll be after not seein’ ya for so long.”

I smile sheepishly, giddy at the thought of him having missed me so much after just a week.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” Joel agrees and we say our goodbyes. I wash my hands before heading back out to the front of the shop.

To read more visit A03

[newtdrawz]

Outsider HC's but they're mainly about Ponyboy,, cuz he is my fav,,

Most of these are just Pony interacting with the gang and his brothers 😭 are they gonna be OOC? Probably. Do I care? No. Am I right abt all of these? Yes. (No.)

ALSO alot of them are post-main story/mention Dally and Johnny's death a lot cuz I am unable to let my favs be happy 🫶 (! None of these are ships btw,, they're all platonic and stuff lol)

Anyways,,

Ponyboy & Johnny

Johnny and Pony regularly have conversations quietly around the gang, most of the time they have a whole conversation with just a couple looks and jerks of their head. They both seem to get what they're saying while the rest of the gang is completely lost on what they're saying/talking about.

Pony is the only one who calls Johnny, J as a nickname.

"We're not scared because monsters don't live here." Was a sentence said many, many time in the abandoned church.

Pony and Johnny can lie pretty well, but when they have to lie together they suck.

Ponyboy & Dally (ft. Johnny)

After Johnny and Dally died Pony stopped drawing and reading or writing for awhile. He picked it up again and his sketchbook is full of doodles and sketches of Johnny and Dally.

Dally has a soft spot for only Johnny and Pony. It takes a lot for him to get soft with the rest of the gang. He's still mean and tough but more just teasing with Johnny and Pony.

Before the fire Pony would read out loud all the time while Johnny would just sit and listen, sometimes Dally would listen too but interrupt with questions and criticizing the characters. Now that they're both gone, Pony will sometimes read out loud on his own, pretending that both Johnny and Dally are there listening.

Dally is very supportive of Ponys hobby in art. He's usually the one who catches him sketching or painting and just watches until Pony is either finished or notices he's being watched. Dally always nods in greeting and says "keep it up, kid." Or "nice job, kid." But Dally will brag to his other buddies that aren't the gang about how talented the kid is. ("Nah man, the kid draws from memory. He drew this one picture of his big brother, yeah the big big one, looked exactly like him. Like a photograph almost. Kids real talented.")

Ponyboy & Steve

Steve says he can't stand Pony and is mean to him, but Steve is very high on the list of people who care about Pony. He's the most frantic (mostly angry) one next to Soda when Pony got jumped. He secretly cares about him a whole lot, like he's his own brother.

Steve will give Pony rides to places or offer rides time to time. (He only does it if Pony's gone awhile without annoying him lol)

Steve (and Soda, but surprisingly it was Steve's idea) took Pony to his first drag race. He definitely should have not been there.

Ponyboy & Two-bit

Two-bit and Steve started sitting in and listening to Pony read, they're not Johnny and Dally but Pony appreciates it nonetheless.

Two-bit was actually so obsessed with toddler Ponyboy, he always insisted on bringing him with the gang and letting him in on games, he always wanted a little brother. He loved how easy Pony was to entertain and make laugh.

Two-bit was the only one who didn't think twice about Pony and Soda's names.

Two-bit sometimes steals art supplies for Pony.

Ponyboy & Sodapop

When Pony would visit the DX Soda would walk him through fixing a car and even let him help out on small stuff. Even Steve would help too.

He'll leave notes everywhere for Pony and Darry and sometimes the gang. They're either dumb jokes or funny little drawings.

Soda gets very excited when Pony asks him anything abt cars, he'll talk for hours abt them.

Soda was so obsessed with Pony when he was born, all he wanted to do was hold him and hang out with him. He would brag to Darry that he's not the only big brother now lol.

Ponyboy & Darry (I'm so obsessed with their dynamic & their growth)

"Dang it Ponyboy you're giving me gray hairs at 20!" Is a regular sentence said at the Curtis residence.

Darry always tells the other guys to be careful with Pony when they're rough housing. Pony thinks it's cuz he doesn't want them to break anything in the house, Darry just doesn't want Pony to get hurt.

Toddler Pony would follow Darry and Soda/the gang everywhere but mainly Darry. If Darry was doing homework in his room then boom Pony would be in there quietly playing or sleeping on Darry's bed.

Darry regularly cuts Soda, Pony and his own hair. They don't have the privilege of going somewhere to do it so Darry just does it and he does surprisingly well. It's a whole day activity.

The night after Dally and Johnny died Pony had trouble sleeping, even though soda was there. The first person he went to for comfort was Darry. Darry was in the kitchen cleaning, trying to distract himself when Pony walked in. Darry held him in his arms the rest of the night.

On the first father's day without their parents Pony makes a card with a drawing of him and Darry on it and leaves it on the kitchen table for him because he's embarrassed. Darry keeps it forever. (He did get very emotional over it but not infront of anybody. When he got home he hugged Pony, smiled and walked away. Those actions spoke a thousand words between the two and Pony knew he said thanks.)

That's all 🥹 (for now 😦)

I will be doing more of these 🙏 I wanna try to do individual characters cuz ik some here didn't have a lot as well as ALL of these being pony centric and I love them all lol

OH ALSO feel free to add on to these (or ask me about them) or add your own HC's cuz I love outsider headcanons ❤️

Also can you tell I love when Dally and Steve are nice to pony lol? Love it. Love the idea that Steve actually cares abt him and shows it sometimes or Dally caring just as much abt him. THEY ARE ALL A HUGE FAMILY YOUR HONOR 🧑‍⚖️🧑‍⚖️🧑‍⚖️🧑‍⚖️🧑‍⚖️ I'm also so obsessed with Darry and Pony,,, they are so,,, complicated sibling relationships get me everytime

Are some of these good? Probably not. Do they make sense timeline and story wise? No and idc. Am I so normal about them? Yes. Most of these are based of fanfic versions of them anyways so yeah

[wintervalewritersecond]

nightmares - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! Hii! I love your fics and I saw that your requests for Wednesday are open so I’d like to request something. Could I please ask for one with Xavier x f!reader in which reader comforts him after one of his nightmares about the monster? Maybe she goes to look for him and finds him in his art studio after he accidentally hurt himself with his paintings, so she patches him up, hugs him and reassures him that everything will be alright? I really felt bad for him and I believe his nightmares were overlooked, also I love reverse comfort sm. Take your time and have a good day! 💕

AN: hi! of course <3 i feel like that as well. i think it is pretty similar as to how wednesday has visions, except that his revolve more around the hyde itself and the fact that it is during the night/when he has to rest. thank you for your requesy and i hope you have an amazing day as well! <3

wordcount: 1,708 warnings: she/her pronouns for reader, nightmares, the hyde, scars/injuries, not platonic, but reader and xavier are not in an official relationship just yet, sad xavier

Xavier has been changing lately, and not for the better. Your worries are confirmed once you find him in his art studio, exhausted, wounded, and needing some attention.

The second the bell rings, Xavier jumps up, shoving everything in his backpack before hurrying away. You let out a sigh, slowly packing your stuff before following the rest of your class out of the way. Xavier has been acting strange lately. He would send you every single excuse to not come over, insisting that he is tired or that he has to study. You do not blame him for this though; you noticed. You noticed how the bags under his eyes got darker, how it seemed like his energy got lower each day, and how he stopped talking to everyone around him. Not even Ajax could get a word out of him.

But just because you understood, it doesn't mean that you aren't worried. It has been weeks since you had your weekly hang-out with Xavier. You miss him, you miss how he used to be. You have been meaning to find him to ask him how he really is doing, yet he always seems to disappear the second you get close.

Your walk through Ophelia Hall was quiet. It seems like everyone else went to chill in the Quad or maybe even went to Jericho. Your mind is too full to go out and have fun, no matter how much you would want to. No one knows what Xavier is going through, yet everyone agrees that he needs help.

Time goes by as you sit in the Quad again, eating dinner with others. You see the faces of most of your friends, but one is missing. Has Xavier not shown up for dinner either? You grab an extra few containers of food, stuffing it in your tote bag before heading off to his dorm.

You knew that it has been rough for him to suddenly not have a roommate anymore. Rowan had been expelled for some weird reason, leaving Xavier alone in his room. You knock on the wooden door, the bag heavy on your shoulders.

Nothing.

No shuffling, no voices, nothing.

After going to his dorm, you check the Quad again, maybe you missed him. But, he still isn't there. You checked if he was at the Archery training field, but there is no sign of Xavier everywhere. You even entered the Nightshade library to see if he was hiding in there, but you were only met with an empty room.

Wait, what if he is in his art studio?

You sling the tote bag back over your shoulder, gripping your jacket tight as you exit through the Nevermore gates and into the woods.

Not a lot of people enter the woods that lie next to the school, but it just so happens to be Xavier his favorite place. He had turned an old shack into his own personal art studio, filled with paint, canvasses, easels, and sketches. It was his place, one that he didn't need to share with anyone. But lucky for you, he does share it with you.

The path slowly gets more narrow the closer you get to the shed. It is hidden in the middle of the woods. People that enter it, would not go nearly as far as where the shed is located. After pushing the bushes to the side, you see it. He has to be here.

You get closer and closer to the small, wooden building and you notice that the chains around the door have been unlocked. A-ha.

"Xavier?" You knock on the door. "I brought you food? I didn't see you at dinner, so-"

The door abruptly opens, revealing your friend. He quickly takes your hand, pulling you inside before closing the door behind you, locking it with yet another lock.

"Why are you here?"

"You weren't at dinner," you repeat. "I don't want my best friend to starve."

You hold up your white bag with a small smile. This has been the most that Xavier has talked to you in a while. You take some of the containers out of your bag.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry."

You stop in your tracks, looking up at the tall boy as you furrow your eyebrows. Xavier, not hungry? That did not happen often. Especially considering he didn't eat at all today. You place the small container that you were holding on his table before letting out a sigh.

"Okay, but I also came here for something else. What happened?"

It is his turn to be confused now.

"You look like you haven't been sleeping, I have not seen you eat at breakfast, lunch or dinner, you don't talk to anyone as you always disappear."

He stays quiet, staring at a splotch of paint on the floor. He can't openly talk about his feelings. For as long as he can remember, he has hidden whatever problem he had, making sure that it wouldn't reach the masses of people that looked up to his father. What would he say if he knew that Xavier had problems?

You notice his silence as you step closer to him, yet still, make sure there is enough distance. You know about his struggles, even though he doesn't talk a lot about his father. His eyes are still fixated on the ground.

"All I want to say is that you don't have to tell me anything specific. All I would like to hear is if there is something going on, a simple yes or no. No specifics, no names, nothing. I'm just worried about you and I want you to know that it's okay to feel bad-"

That is all he needed to hear.

Those words are all it took for him to crumble, throwing himself in your arms as he pulls you close, his grip tight around your frame. You are fast to respond, wrapping your own arms around him as you run your hands up and down his back. His head is resting on your head as the rest of his body is shaking. You can even feel his chin trembling.

"Xavier?"

You slowly guide him to the big chair that rests in the corner of his studio, still holding him close. Once he sits, you slowly untangle yourself from him, though still holding on to his hands.

"Hey, you're fine. I'm here, okay?"

He doesn't dare look up, his eyes filled with tears and his hands still shaking. It hurts to see him like this. So sad and helpless, and you have no idea what you can do for him. On his neck are also scratches, looking red and irritated.

"You do not have to tell me anything, just... Just know that you can."

You hand him the containers of food. Xavier takes it, muttering a soft 'thank you' before slowly taking a bite of the pasta. You made sure to take everything that you know he loves.

"I can clean up those wounds for you," you offer, your hands already in your bag to grab your water bottle and napkin.

He only nods as he sits still, slowly taking bites of the food as you wipe away some of the blood from the scratches.

"I'm sorry."

You look at him, stopping your movements. He's sorry?

"I should have talked to you," he whispers. "I have been an asshole, and I should have just been normal and-"

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't blame yourself," you smile at him. "I have just been worried, that's all."

A tear rolls down his cheeks before he angrily wipes it away.

"The nightmares came back," he mumbles. "I haven't slept normally in days. It has been horrible and there is nothing I can do about it. And- and Kinbott told me to paint what my dreams were. Paint them to get them out of my head."

You nod understandingly, your hand resting on his knee.

"And I did. I drew that horrible thing-" he points to a canvas hidden in the back of the studio. "Over and over again. Some monster. And then, the second I wasn't looking, it came out of the painting. Scratched me good."

So not only has he been stuck in a literal nightmare, but he also has gotten attacked by whatever it was.

"You know what," you stand up, your hand reaching out to him. "Let's take the food, go to one of our dorms, and watch a movie. If you want."

It is the least you can do to try and cheer him up. He looks up at you, slightly confused. You are not yelling at him, blaming him for being upset, for ignoring you for days in a row. You... understand.

He closes the container, taking your hand with a smile before pushing himself up as well.

-

Luckily, no one had seen you as you sneaked behind Xavier. You were not supposed to be in their dorms, especially not at this time. But you didn't care. Xavier needs you.

You sit him down on the bed before placing the laptop down on his nightstand.

"You pick something, okay?"

Xavier smiles before nodding, quickly picking a movie as you open up some of the food containers, handing them to your friend. He had barely eaten today.

You sit down next to him, taking off your sweater before scooting closer to him. Xavier his mood has been improving rapidly already. He is not alone in this big, dark room anymore. He has you.

After half the movie, he finished his food, placing the empty containers on the floor before slowly wrapping his arm around you. You let out a giggle, moving a bit closer to him. You have been dancing around each other for a while now. It was pretty well known that you liked each other.

Another part of the movie passes as Xavier his eyes slowly start drooping. His tiredness is catching up to him, and being in a warm and comfortable bed surely helps in making him more tired. Awake one moment, asleep the next.

A smile is on your face once you see him sleeping. He deserves it. It has been a while. You press a kiss on his temple, snuggling closer to him as you pull the blanket over you both.

Hopefully, it helped him. Even if just a bit.

[minas-linkverse]

Do you have any tips or tricks on how to start a comic like this? Or even just how you got started?? I've had my own au for years that I so badly wanna put out into the world but I've been struggling with finding a good way to start it!!!!

Hm!! Ok!! This is a tough question with many different answers even just from me. I'll do my best to answer tho!! 😮

The main bit of advice I want to give, and which I think is vital to anyone creating anything:

☆ Know yourself.

When looking up advice for creating, people love to tell you that by doing things a specific way is the best and only way to go. Often advice of this sort has solid points, you should plan ahead, you should have easy character designs, buut... You don't have to.

I do not work well with outlines or scripts. I dislike sketching. You'd think that'd make being a long form comic artist impossible for me, but nope.

I know theres things I cannot do, so I've put all my practise to what I can do. My lineart style allows me to almost skip sketching completely, my scripts are more of an A to B structure than law. I improv 90% of the time when making pages. It's kinda like dnd with myself.

I would absolutely not reccomend what I'm doing to others, but I know it works for me. People can tell me I'm doing it wrong but its either wrong or no comic at all, SO. Suck it. 👍

Er. Rambling now.

My point is, figure out what you can and cant do, and do your best to give yourself the ideal work enviorment and process.

☆ Deal with being overwhelmed

Making just a few panels and suddenly realising its gonna take years to get anywhere is SO demoralising. It's gonna happen and its gonna happen again, and again, and—

But continuing with the earlier advice, you gotta ask yourself what would help you. Are you willing to sacrifice quality? Do you just need a break? Maybe you're like me and like to include smth you love in every update so you'll have something to get excited about making.

That feeling of overwhelm is trying to tell you something, so figure out what that is so it wont end the project for you.

☆ Start it

You wont like what you make when starting. I've never heard of an artist who has.

I'm not saying start this instant, not everyone is as into improv and flailing around as me. But I will say you'll never feel ready. Figure out the minimun of what you need to start and do it. Show friends first if youre afraid to post.

Also where to start? Well sure there's lots of good advice online about that, but you can also just doodle random stuff until you feel like diving deeper. That's what LV started with, just Twi and Wild hanging out with animals and some headcanons. It may not be the most tightly written work but theres beauty in the humanity of a mess.

☆ Extras

A "failed project" or "forgotten WIP" is only a failure if you let yourself feel that way. Yea it can be a hauntingly strong feeling thats hard to deal with... But it can be beaten. WIPS are proof you tried and not everyone can say they have.

Lv is far from done and I have no intention of dropping it, but because the journey has been so nice I'd satisfied even if I had to call it here. Its smth that helps me with the overwhelm... What I've made is beautiful even now.

Comparing yourself to others is gonna rip your heart out. I love that theres other links meet aus out there and hope the best for those artists but I caNNot follow any of them or I'll crumble to dust.

So Uhm.

Basically. Have fun and be yourself. 👍

Ps. Readability is basically the most important thing for a comic artist to pay attention to, that and not destroying yourself with details and rendering. 🙌 Good luck out there!

[owlight]

My silly little Request: headcannons of Smoker, Law, Crocodile, and Doflamingo (separate) reactions to finding out that their artist S/O had been secretly drawing each other having... intercourse together.

P.S. hope you’re having a good day/ night. I’m sorry if I worded that weirdly 🥲.

Thank u ! I think u worded it pretty nicely! Thank you for requesting,I hope you are having a good day/night yourself cuz m sure not ❤️‍🔥💀, I added kid hope u don't mind 🫶🥺 Doflamingo is my enemy but it doesn't mean I wouldn't hold his hand 🫶🙏🧎I love to hate him

Warnings: suggestive themes

Smoker,law,Corcodile, Doflamingo,Law,Eustass Kid reactions to finding erotic drawings of them drawn by Thier Artist s/o

Smoker

He Was always respecting of your sketchbooks , always ,you will never catch him snooping around your side of the room

But there's this time you made the mistake of Leaving your sketchbook in his office on his desk , leaving to bring him some coffee like the good partner you're

And he was giving his eyes a break from all the paperwork,he looked around the room finding himself alone and remembering you will be back soon,maybe he will take his lunch break and you could both eat lunch together- oh you left your sketchbook?

Sure you wouldn't mind if your lover looked at it right? You always share your art with him anyway and he Adore your art! He even have one of your painting hanged in his office and he can't help but be curious about what you're sketching,it might be your next painting for all what he know

Smoker open the sketchbook with a smile on his face that's quickly washed off the moment his eyes are met with a whole drawing of him and you in a rather.... something He is sure you both haven't done yet,he know he should stop looking but he is weak and he keep flipping through the pages with a hand covering his mouth "how many more pages there's of us fucking??" He asks himself as he flip through more,Smoke come out from his head as he flip to a rather deatiled page "god." He groan as he keep the sketchbook close to his face to pay attention to the fine deatils ,you drew his dick so well-

" I got you your coffee darlin-oh no" you enter with a smile that washes off quickly as you look at smoker looking at the sketchbook with a red face,that red face is now looking at you" I can explain" you tell him ,he put the sketchbook on the desk" go ahead "he tell you with a rather red face" I was horny and I like drawing us " you tell him with little no shame ,smoker facepalm his face "You're going to drive me crazy (y/n),You can't just draw these Things!" You put the coffee on his desk as you sit on the edge of his desk ,you point a finger at him

"If you want me to stop you will have to fuck me"

" (y/n)!"

Will scold you for drawing such a thing in a sketchbook where anyone can see it ,Yet you remind him ,no one really dares to, expect him

Will Be flustered about it and won't mention it again ever ever

Did take his favorite one and he keep it safe with him to look at when he have to be away from you

Will not admit that he find them very..neat ,Might even go so far to say He likes them alot

But you will not catch him saying that outloud , would rather be water borded over admitting that outloud because he feel like a pervert for liking these drawings that much

Secretly a pervert ngl

Crocodile

Secretly? Keeping A secret from this man? You know the moment you start acting suspicious with Keeping your sketchbooks off his sight, his ass is not vibing

It's always that one Green sketchbook, always with you,yet he never seen you showing him any drawing,you always hide it when he even glance it's way

His brain goes to the worst possiblity,you must be planning on betraying him,are you writing his vulnerable moments ?his secrets?

He goes to the room that he gifted you to be your Art room and he is so bitter,he did all this, worshipped you,gifted you stuff,he loved you god damn it! How dare you..!

You are not in the room, you're somewhere out ,he sent you shopping so he can search the room,he want to storm the room,yet he find the painting you're working on ,a painting of both of you together and he grit his teeth

He looks at the desk ,And behold it's that damn sketchbook!,he walk to it with furry , opening it with even more furry,he expect to see his routine written out,his secrets ,but anger goes down the drain the moment his eyes register what he is looking at

" what the hell? " he mumble as his cigar fall off his mouth from the shock,He is met with a rather very detailed HD 4K drawing of him and you going cowgirl reverse,His cheeks only slightly darken as he flip through the pages and see that There's nothing but straight up erotica art of both of you,some even look familiar to him ,other look so much different than what you both do "since when they are into begin tied down like this..." He mumble to himself as by now he is sitting by the desk flipping through the sketchbook like it's some casual Reading session for him

he seem to be more shameful of the fact he thought you were going to betray him than anything tbh

Will not let you know that he found out what you're drawing in that sketchbook,he is not going to mention it ,nope

He will keep it a secret that he knew , only because he doesn't want to explain how he found it ,he have too much pride to admit he was wrong

Will Fuck you against his desk cuz he never done that but your drawing really inspired him <3

Exactly 6 months and 12 days later ,he will tell you that he want to look at your sketchbook for new ideas for the bedroom without telling you how he figured it out ,you were horrified for sure ,top 5 jumpscare of your life

He Secretly want to have an erotic painting of both of you in his bedroom,will not admit it or tell you about that ,but he think about that often whenever he look at your other family friendly paintings

Doflamingo

He knew something fishy was going with you and that Pink sketchbook that you keep at arm length from him at all time but never pressed the matter since he is pretty sure it's nothing important to him or anything because you draw some weird shit sometimes and he expected it's that tbh

That's till one time he was going to grab it and you Deadass Grabbed it from HIS hand and told him he can't look at it ,HIM you told HIM he can't do something? Like that made him Petty af ,who tf you think you're to tell him not to do something?

You're his beloved partner,love of his life that's who

He won't press it any further in that moment,will act all understanding and sweet and he is such a perfect man fr kind of attitude<3

Then at 3 am as you're fast asleep ,he moves off the bed in silent,walking to the desk where you keep your sketchbooks hidden,he isn't so quite as he grab the forbidden sketchbook and open it ,he is smug at how easy it was to find it really!

But that smug face is slowly replaced by a rather slightly frustrated face as he see what's inside the sketchbook

He take his glasses off as to make sure what he is seeing is actually what he is seeing " .....huh" he mumble out as he stare at the very naked drawing of himself and you ,it look lewd ,it look so... interesting? "Eh who knew you were into drawing these things ?" He ask lowly as he looks back at your sleeping form" I knew you were a Prevert but this a whole new level " he mumble to himself as he talks about you,he flip through the pages and admire the very neat drawings of him fucking you,he isn't sure if it's quite accurate,he think he is bigger than that for sure

" hey (y/n) " Doflamingo poke your cheek as you sleep,you slowly open your eyes to look at him "what's it love?" You ask as you look at him holding your sketchbook ,oh no, Doflamingo point at the lewd drawing of you sitting on his lap with his dixk out full view "it doesn't look as accurate here,I think you should fix it" he tells you, oh no you think as you hear him criticize your art this early in the morning

Yes this mf will criticize you for drawing his dick wrong ,no cap , He is very picky and prideful and he will not stand at this slander

Tbh knowing this had inflated his ego 100% ,he will not stop teasing you about it till the end of time

Will 100% ask if you want to get a painting of both of you nude together, to hang it in your bedroom

Will keep that sketchbook for himself,You will have to start a new one and keep it a secret cuz he want to start a collection of your art of both of you

Will request you to draw a story of both of you with his kinks involved ,Please he will let you wear his feathers coat 🥺

As a whole he is a menace to society and dating him taught you to never be caught slacking fr

Law

He didn't mean to find it ,He really didn't mean to ,you just have similar notebooks and sketchbooks and this mixed up was meant to happen someday

It was just very unfortunate it happened after you both were separated as law went to join the strawhats and you stayed behind with the crew

Law of course took his important notebooks and without realizing took your small sketchbook that you usually keep away from everyone

Law never questioned it , you're a Artist and you have the freedom to draw whatever you want Truly

But he probably didn't think it was This kind of things

Law was sitting in the room that the strawhats gave him,he was writing down in his journal without much mind till he wanted to use a reference out of his medical sketchbook,he grab a sketchbook that look way too familiar,he realize he mixed up his sketchbook with yours and sighs "I should have checked before taking them... hopefully (y/n) doesn't need to use this for now" He mumble to himself ,for a moment he was going to put it back before he tell himself,hey why not look at the drawings! He misses you after all and your art always cheered him up ,and begin with the strawhats really making him more grumpy by the second

" oh-yeah that's-is that me? " He blur out as he stares at the drawing of law and you kissing with what seem a collar around your neck and you're riding him-"yeah no" his face darken as he close the sketchbook ,he look around as there could be someone watching him look at this " (y/n)... you're....god I don't even know what I will do to you when I get my hands on you" he mumble to himself as he reopen the sketchbook with little shame "I do miss you..." He mumble to himself,you sure won't mind..if he used this for personal reasons..."YO LAW WANT TO JOIN US IN DINNER?" Luffy voice break into the room causing law to close the sketchbook fast " Learn to knock damn it!" He yells at Luffy who is 100% unbothered ,sighs he ain't gonna ever be able to look at it throughly here

He is secretly a Prevert in my humble opinion so he did find this very informative and enjoyable to look through in his lonely nights till you guys could meet again

He Did hand it to you when you both met again with a little grin ,you understood before he said anything, Goodbye your dignity-" let's get to my room,I want to give you more inspiration beloved" he whispers to your ear ,you nod at him with a red face , You are winning fr

He do come around to ask you to draw something specific actually,he will commission you if he have to ,he just think your art style is very neat and he like an ego boost cuz you draw him so well

Do not show him your newer work ,he will get all horny about it as he criticize you,will make you sit in his lap and go through the new sketchbook together while his hand run up and down your thigh

He a lil Prevert but you love him so it's okay

Kid

He did mean to find it ,He was trying to find it , Because he was 100% sure you are drawing something that you didn't want him to see

since he know Killer found your sketchbook that you Lost and He haven't been the same ever since ,he won't tell him what did he see in that sketchbook and killer been very frustrated whenever kid ask him about it

And he personally took this as a challenge to find what it is ,since you won't tell him,You won't show him and He is so pissed off ,like he is your captain! Just show him god damn it! He want to see what's the big deal behind that sketchbook

It was an eventful night ,he was awake past midnight working in his workshop when he decided it's time to go to sleep ,he get the bedroom he share with you with a tired look,he looks around the room out the habit and BOOM ,his eyes are locked with a Black sketchbook that HE is sure it's the one you're hiding from him,it's on the desk ,you must have forgotten about it

He walks to it with a a wide grin like he won the lottery,he open it prepared to the worst hideous sketches of himself perhaps but he is slightly caught off guard of a drawing of him between your legs looking WAY too realistic

" .........Eeh y-yeah" he let a rather frustrated small noise as he flip through the sketchbook and he is met with some of the most graphic HD 4K art of himself and you doing everything possible, There's things you've never actually done together (yet) and he doesn't even notice the growing heat on his face as he sit on the desk and look through the pages,he can't believe you would do something-actually he can believe it

you were always a bit too creative in your art,it sure won't stop to this,he can't believe that he didn't figured out it was just sex drawings! Heh killer must been frustrated from seeing them since they look so realistic,he think that's the reason as he flip the last few pages and his jaw at the floor as he see something that definitely didn't happen (yet) a few pages of killer and Kid going absolutely ham on you ,Kid closes the sketchbook with a groan,now he is confused,proud, turned on ,Have few new point of view of killer,and it's all your fault "Hey pipesqueak! Wake up,I need you to ride me-"

He didn't actually bring up the fact that he saw what's in the sketchbook to you ,but He did keep it in his mind like good soup

He will now preform even more seductively in bed in hope you draw him looking badass and all that ngl ,he will start snooping around your sketchbooks after every wild sexual interaction with you to see if you were inspired by it or not

Will hint that he know about it but won't outright tell you,it give you anxiety everytime he hint at it ,till you end up confessing about it ,He pretend like he don't care ,It's only because he already seen them all secretly

One night on your birthday you walk into your bedroom with killer and Kid sitting on the bed and kid holding the sketchbook with that one page open

" I was hoping we make this drawing a reality" kid tell you with a smirk "how about you show killer how good you're babe?" Killer is wearing a mask but he is clearly into this as he pat his lap for you to come and sit on it

Let's say the reality was better than the drawing for this one for sure

And this how you three all started dating after years of sexual tension between the two of you and killer

[sxphora-creepingaround]

❣ Creeps on Winter/Cold season ❣

Tw: its creepypasta themed, so we already know what's the warnings !! But this one is maybe friendly (maybe) !! MY AU AND PERSPECTIVES !! English is not my first language, feel free to correct my grammars and spellings !! <3

[ ♡ ] 𝔰𝔢𝔭𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔞'𝔰 𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰

• Proxies •

𝗠𝗮𝘀𝗸𝘆 : Tim is chill on such a weather, he is probably barbeque-ing on his free time, alone, or maybe with Brian if they are in good terms by the meantime. Overall, he just wants peace and quiet. Like Brian, he is so done with slenderstuff, he needs a rest.

'𝗧𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶' 𝗧𝗼𝗯𝘆 : he'll hang around, well, he already is. He has that unhinged aura around him. He's the type of guy who sits on snow, makes a random shape, makes a snowball, throw it randomly, and then make another one. Or, he'll hang on clockwork's place, ask her to walk around or snowball fight with him.

𝗛𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗲 : Brian is quiet but not safe. On his free time, he's still works his ass because he doesn't have anything better to do than watching and stalks his victims, maybe he'll join Tim and barbeque-ing with him, as i stated before. He is most likely doesnt go out to except for some occasions like missions and tasks, chillin' with a warm cup of coffee alone with some peace and no slender-shit stuff until he's back to 'Hoodie' mode.

𝗞𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗿 : she is always been my favorite. I think she'll wanders through the forest for a patrol or maybe sits on the front of the cabin, watches the snow falls with a cup of hot chocolate (if her tongue works). Maybe even sleeps on the cold ground, finds it calming while wearing warm thick clothes. She'll let Toby bothers her with snowballs really.

[ ♡ ]

• Creeps •

𝗖𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 : she would just sitting in front of her place, just like Kate, watching the snow falls, maybe while sketching on her drawing books and listening to musics. She'll accompany Toby if he cames, maybe lays down with him on the cold snowy ground and they'll talk for hours, or a small snowball fight (not brutal).

𝗝𝗮𝗻𝗲 𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 : (my au) she'll sits on her apartment by the window, alot, while writes on her notebook, researching about Jeff's latest kill only to burn her rage, maybe even letting Nina come to her apartment and hangs around with her.

𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗹 𝗟𝗶𝘂 : he'll mostlikely bakes and stuff, maybe cleans the house since theres nothing much you could do outside, he doesnt really kill tho, maybe Jeff visits him to be the one who eats all the cookies he made, and then runaway. Liu reads alot, he'll do that too.

𝗝𝗲𝗳𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 : killing spree on every season, killing is his personality really. He's an asshole, he'll stole random scarfs and stuffs, maybe even rob a market while brutally murder everyone who approach him. He'll visits Liu on some random occasion.

𝗡𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 : she is a sweetheart, like Liu, doesnt really kill. She's a winter spirit, she'll have a snowball fight with random kids on the playground, makes snow angels, visits Jane to bring her some random things she got, etc.

𝗘𝘆𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗝𝗮𝗰𝗸 : he'll study biology on his freetime, maybe even practicing it on corpses he found. He does everything mostly alone, but if he mets Nina or anyone in the way (possibly Toby or Jeff), he'll come with them eventually, he doesnt really know what to do excepts watches the snow falls.

!! Again, its my AU, feel free to ask about it !!

[sealofarchives]

Oneshot scenario: Merfolk!reader with the turtles (separate)

Just something for a mermay themed prompt while trying to think of other stuff to write

Warnings: the slight mention of drowning (just a brief topic again nothing too graphic)

(I forgot the exact concept art picture from one of the scrapped episodes where Mikey went all out for a mermaid costume for a distraction but, surprisingly it helped while trying to brainstorm ideas for the other scenarios lol)

Soupful Confessions

In the lair, close to the living room...

You were about take another spoonful of clam chowder soup. While your fish tail sat on one of the steps a surface level in a large aquarium tank filled with water. You placed the soup bowl by the makeshift table beside you. Then swam towards the box shell turtle pacing around a few distance away from the tank.

Before you could ask, Mikey immediately squeaked startled by your sudden appearance.

"Oh (Y/N)! Was the soup okay?"

"Mikey, I'll pretty much eat anything you make. Sorry for scaring you."

"Is something on your mind? You almost made a lap walking around my tank."

"Well... Despite that short-staffed situation during a surf and turf event near the Run of the Mill pizzeria..."

"I'm still excited that I made friends with you and a few other merpeople!"

You winced with a fake smile before going back to the soup filled bowl.

"I mostly tagged along with that group for a discount on seafood pizza."

"I couldn't stomach the idea of eating turtles, let alone ones who were brave enough to serve an angry mob of hungry merpeople."

"Yeah... I still think we were pretty lucky that we based off the menu from a few of dad's old movies. Clam chowder being one of those."

You blinked surprised at the soup then back to Mikey.

"Any clue why he doesn't like talking about clam chowder?"

"Because I tried bringing it up and he just avoids the question with something else."

Mikey only shrugged while playing around with his orange bandana tails.

"He told us only criminals like that movie but, Cassandra turned over a new leaf because of his words of wisdom."

"Maybe, something terrible happened during the making of the movie so, it might have been that..."

You hummed understanding that reasoning. Then held the bowl to drink what's left out of the almost empty soup. Mikey gulped as you perched your arms content with the meal.

"Hopefully its not too weird to ask but, are you free to be a muse?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I had a few sketches for some disguises especially with the mermaid theme in mind but..."

"I didn't want to offend you if some of the designs are in poor taste..."

You couldn't help but, giggle at Mikey as you placed the bowl on his head.

"So you want feedback from me? Sure, I don't bite."

"But, take it easy when you decide to use said distraction in action."

"I wouldn't want that cute face of yours getting hurt."

Mikey blushed as you winked at him and hurried off to get dessert. Unfortunately for him, his brothers also saw the incident and appeared with teasing grins, casually hanging around the kitchen like nothing happened.

Old and New Memories

In the turtle tank...

Donnie spoke up with a sigh.

"You know its impolite to stare at someone for a long period of time..."

"Oh sorry, a while ago, I got stuck with helping one of my classmates for something in Witch Town."

"That place still mentions you-"

"Being the infamous scientist turtle who scoffed at anything magic related and destroyed the center piece statue during an important ceremony."

Donnie felt an imaginary arrow hitting his head as he winced while you continued to talk.

"But still, you made a long way from being stubborn about mystic magic."

"And gained some understanding of it through your way of approaching things."

You fidgeted one of the charms added to the custom made backpack (courtesy of the purple turtle himself) to avoid the tedious process. Carrying a large jug of water when there's no aquarium tank around.

Donnie faked cough now regaining his composure as you looked back at him.

"Accidental destruction of property was the more correct term to describe it..."

"At that time, I was more focused proving April wrong that she didn't need help from those witches."

"Also, there is no way I'm setting foot near that place if they still talk about me in that matter."

"I was already greeted with the angry mob gathering pitchforks and torches when I tried to apologize for my actions."

Donnie crossed his arms as you lightly puffed one of your cheeks.

"On a lighter note, I found out some of my classmates grew up with parents who are big fans of Splinter's movies."

"And..."

You held up a conch shell device and played a recording from its string.

"Do you think we'll turn heads if we change the purple one's wanted poster in a light tone similar to the splitting image of Lou Jitsu?"

"I already heard stories how the former star dedicates his life to raising four turtles and..."

"The purple one can easily get away with anything for having such dashing looks-"

You immediately held the string down with blush surfacing an annoyed look on your face.

"It slowly started an argument on which of you was the best Lou Jitsu look-a-like."

"So the fan club forgot to start the project..."

"But still, at least you have me and a few other fans by your side."

Your fish-fin ears fluttered a bit taking notice of Donnie's smirk.

"While I'm flattered by that girl's comment, I only assume you haven't thought of the idea towards a surprise meet and greet."

"Or you don't like the thought of her dating me..."

The blush deepened your face as you looked away.

"I think she'll be more disappointed that you aren't into pda and hugs."

You felt Donnie's arms pulling you into a hug now sitting on his lap.

"Given the nature of my happy go lucky family members, I just give in to the hugs. However, for you."

"I'm willing to make some amends towards my soon to be partner's needs..." On the back of Donnie's mind was slight panic. With the realization that you look really cute sitting there. And how, he got a closer look at your face.

A Merfolk That Can't Sing?!

Near a rooftop pool close to 10 pm... (Totally not trespassing says the red slider turtle)

Your face sank halfway into the chlorinated water. Attempting to hide the embarrassed feeling as Leo immediately sat up.

"Wait, for eel? I always thought it comes naturally that most merpeople can just lure anyone in by a wonderful singing voice."

You laid on your aquatic back, letting the water glide you across the lightly dimmed pool. With a whine at Leo's fishy oneliners.

"Not me, my parents tried to get help and it didn't even work."

"I already don't like the thought of it being associated with drowning..."

"I almost forgot about that part but, the reason I brought the singing was more towards..."

"Donnie was playing a game where sirens sang during a boss fight."

"I don't know much about metal but, the song surprisingly blends well with the siren singing."

"Okay? I still don't get what you're trying to say."

"I don't want to sound like Dr Feelings but, if you have a favorite song you'd usually like to hum to."

"Maybe try that, since you don't seem happy trying to fit into the scary siren image.

Leo saw you hesitated for a bit but shrugged, now lazily laying on your stomach.

"I'll think about it but, thanks for the brief pep talk."

"Well if you feel up to a small karaoke battle, you know who to call!"

You held back laughing at him in an attempt to hide the blush on your face.

"You almost fell off the turtle taxi proudly winning the previous karaoke battle during a late night beach party."

Leo's confident smile quickly faded into embarrassment. As he immediately placed one of his beach hats on your head. Causing you to sit up to avoid damaging the hat.

"It still counted as a victory for me. We weren't expecting anyone to be up around that time."

"Let alone a surprise visit from a merfolk."

You blushed at the water's reflection, wearing Leo's straw beach hat. A tiny bit of regret deepened the blush as you caught sight of his slow smirk.

"Did my singing actually lure you in?~"

Your fish fin lightly splashed water near his face as you looked away.

"The turtle tank caused a tiny rumor about a turtle with a taxi on its shell"

"I don't think Donnie would be happy about making his prized vehicle open to the public."

Leo wiped the water off his face with a spare towel as he got off the chaise lounge chair.

"I still think I lured you in."

"It just happened to be in good timing, with Donnie making small tests to the turtle tank."

Your fish tail sat by the pool step ladders as you sighed.

"Just don't add any love songs to the playlist or I might curse you for a week."

"I can probably handle whatever hex you throw at me but, I'll still give you dibs on picking the first few songs.

"Just so I have somewhat an idea of what songs you're into."

Ever since he got you to laugh at some of his jokes, the red slider turtle believes you have that merpeople charm in you.

Early Morning Seaside Chit Chat

Close to early sunrise by the Hidden City beach.

The turtle tank was parked a few distance away from the volunteer vendor booth that usually helps with clean up, trash, and protecting wildlife. However, the daily weekend event usually starts in around 9 or 10 am.

Raph could see the groggy eyebags on your face as you struggled to stay awake, resting your arms above the aquarium tank.

"We brought some snacks that should last until lunch."

"So try to eat something so you don't accidentally chomp on a seagull."

You snatched a family sized bag of chips from the snack pile. With a brief thanks as Raph sat across from you.

"I scared off some birds from last year's sea turtle hatching tour."

"I'll be fine."

Raph bit into a piece of jerky as he rolled his eyes.

"That one pink heron almost knocked you into the sea if we didn't step in to help."

"Mikey almost saw a baby turtle getting pecked to death."

"That's the only time I pick fights with any of those birds."

Raph muttered a sigh under his breath as you pouted.

"Okay I'll admit, we didn't want to see that but..."

"I'm surprised how you convinced Donnie and the volunteers to set up a eco friendly barrier for those baby turtles."

You smiled a bit biting into another chip as you spoke.

You guys still helped, spreading the word through cute flyer posters and a tiny fundraiser for a good cause."

Raph lightened up with his toothy grin as he chuckled.

"So, no secret plan to get revenge on that bird."

"I mean Donnie was almost thinking about it, until he got praised with so many compliments displaying his work to the staff."

"Oh, so Donnie didn't have some speech with how cruel nature is and just went with your idea."

You accidentally yawned with an annoyed expression on your face.

"He did but, life is already like that sometimes."

"And not to bring down the mood but, you four would have been just regular turtles if it weren't for Splinter stepping in to protect you guys from being Draxum's super soldiers..."

Raph hummed briefly looking down at the half empty plastic bag.

"I don't think I could fit in with the other alligator snapping turtles."

"I had a lot of weird moments not realizing its a solitary thing and its just not for me."

Raph looked up after hearing you chuckle.

"You could easily win a few over just from your gentle smile."

"Showing off your strength is one thing but, your level of honesty."

"Its almost too sweet that it could blind the competition."

The alligator snapping turtle blushed at your compliments.

"If this is your way of wanting that expensive seafood buffet for lunch, I'm not budging..."

"Awww, but I saved up enough money for a really good couple's discount~..."

Raph eventually caved in to the offer after most of the baby sea turtles safely made it to watery shore. However, to your surprise, the two of you sat in one table alone. With the blush beginning to appear on your face as the waiter took his order.

[cupcakeslushie]

Does Mikey try to prove himself? Since you said he’s scared that his family will not like him anymore like big mama?

MIKEY ASK TIME!!

@theartofeverything @lukasischillin

Mikey can be a total showboat during battles thanks to his time in the Battle Nexus, and he makes sure to be as useful as he can around the house because he’s got a similar mindset to Donnie in that he’s worried about his place in the family. Mikey is not an idiot, he knows Big Mama grew bored of him and that’s why he was put in the fighting pits. He grew up watching her toss the employees that disappointed her in there and thought he was special and that she would never throw him away—he was totally blindsided by her betrayal, and he won’t let that happen again. So he uses a lot of his energy into discovering new ways to be productive, be that cooking, helping the family with their trauma, or taking down bad guys. It’s not so much positive motivation but more desperation to be needed.

He’s always been great at reading emotions and picking up the self-help books and his research started as more of a way to handle his issues without alerting Splinter, Raph, or April to the fact that he was struggling with things. It was further luck then when Leo and Donnie show up, and he jumps at the chance to use his knowledge to help them as well—it makes him feel good to help them, but also if he’s not being useful he gets anxious.

Cooking is not something he necessarily enjoys at first, but he’s good at it…compared to Raph and Splinter, who are hopeless for the most part (Splinter can make like five or six dishes, but for the most part they order pizza or eat frozen meals or April will bring by take out). So Mikey seizes the opportunity to fill in yet another role. He does grow to love it the more experience he gets though.

Mikey is probably the worst at admitting he needs help after Leo. If he does have an episode or flashback of some kind which is bad enough that the others worry over him, he’ll manipulate his way out of being the center of attention and convince everyone he’s fine.

No one’s religious, but the idea of family and ancestry is important to them all connecting with each other!

@gumy-shark @snazzysa1amander

I talked before about how Big Mama got Mikey tutors for his education, one of which was an art tutor, so his style is more classical until he moves into the lair and he’s greeted with massive art block, for which April introduces him to street art and he falls in love with that. If you wanna know more on that check out this reply here!

Art for Mikey is kind of the one thing he does that’s just for himself—it’s not of any use to the family, but something he enjoys, and when he shares his art work with Leo, April, or Raph, it never feels the same as when he’d show Big Mama his work and she would look it over and judge if it was good enough to hang up in her lobby. When Splinter puts his stuff on the fridge, or Donnie dedicates a wall of his lab for a cork-board that’s void of any blueprints and solely filled with the bright, colorful sketches that Mikey’s gifted him—it doesn’t feel like Mikey’s trading parts of himself to earn his keep. Instead it feels more like building himself back up. Each piece the family saves does more to convince Mikey he’s not going anywhere, more so than any other chore he’s checked off for the day.

Donnie still loves ear bleeding techno and heavy metal. Leo likes more meditative, calming stuff, but is secretly probably a BTS fan. Raph likes hip-hop and stuff you can dance to. Mikey likes songs that’ll really get you hyped and rap. April likes boy bands, but she also has a love of classic rock and early 2000s pop. I’ll actually probably make a playlist soon with a few songs I think they would like or that suits their stories, and also songs that’ve been sent to me (some of which I’m saving in my inbox so when I do finally make the playlist I can have all of them in one relevant post! Just know if you’ve sent me an ask that’s song related, I’ve seen it and appreciate all the ideas! Those songs will find their way to a playlist hopefully soon!)

Hmm I never even thought of 2012 Mikey’s kusarigama but you’re so right that it would work well for when Mikey has to make that killing blow. He does switch his weapons sometimes between fights to keep things interesting, but mostly uses nunchucks. I do however think having that secret blade in them would be pretty beneficial! But when he leaves those behind and Splinter gifts him the ones he’ll use from then on, I think he’d be happy to have the less lethal version.

@ver-444 @littleblueberryartist Human designs here

Mikey would wear a cloaking broach when out and about the lobby and even though he never attended school he’s most familar with the way things are done topside out of all the brothers. It makes him the least stealthy cause he’s just not used to hiding. I’ll probably draw Human Mikey at some point. Though since cloaking broaches are kind a mystery in how they work, I honestly don’t know what I’d do. If Big Mama was the one who got Mikey his cloaking broach I’d have to imagine she’s make him look like her, but in my head I do think the boys would look Asian seeing as they have Splinter’s DNA—with Mikey and Donnie having darker skin tones and Leo and Raph being just a bit lighter (to parallel how Leo and Raph are lighter greens and Donnie and Mikey are darker greens).

It’s a toss up on Mikey, but I do know if he ever got his own cloaking broach after the fact, he would totally make himself look like Lou Jitsu’s son and nothing like Big Mama, and he would have no problem including his scars!

Mikey has fought I’d say one to two battles a day, six days a week for a year in the Nexus, I’m not doing any further math than that, sorry 😜

Dr Delicate Touch does exist, but as I’ve said, with Mikey so desperate to help the family and be useful, I’d say Dr. Delicate touch has even less patience for tomfoolery

@uniqueness351217 Big Mama will have some scheming going on with Draxum! She’s cut her losses for now and will regroup!

Venus started as Big Mama’s assistant in the year after Mikey started in the Battle Nexus, she is going to be more connected to Three than with Mikey at first. They have caught sight of the other in the few times Big Mama visited Mikey to gift him his little prizes, but they’ve never spoken.

@raisondetre2012 Thank you I’m glad you liked it! And unfortunately Mikey will find out Donnie’s…association with the Battle Nexus and it will create a pretty intense divide between them but that’s all I’ll say for now!

Donnie has always seen physical strength as something valuable that he could never achieve (even though Donnie boy is no slouch. Draxum just sucks) so he does look up to Raph and Mikey in that regard!

Oh these are so getting saved to be sketched out later!

Also just a note! I know some of y’all are probably worried that your asks aren’t going through. I have to admit am very slow in answering asks! Some of these are from a month or longer ago. I just like to give each ask a good amount of thought so it makes replies slower (also lol now that there’s more lore established I have to double check that I’m not contradicting myself on things, like a doofus)!

I do apologize for taking so long for some of y’all, but I do have a pretty full inbox so I’d like to thank everyone for their patience! You guys are the best and I always love reading all y’all’s theories and questions!

❤️-Slushie

[athanmis]

sketch dumb alert for @falconearring 's zombie apocalypse au!!!!! (life series folks) (go check out their kick ass stuff NOW🤯🤯😡🫵)

I included some head canon designs specifically for this au! BigB, Ren, Skizz, and Martyn have not been pictured yet and of course I added my own flare to Pearl, Etho, Scar, and well pretty much all of them...

below the cut are ones from my class notes lol

ok also sometimes I draw Etho with vitiligo (seen in the bottom image) just cause I think that's cool

ummm but yeah Ren has ski goggles instead of sun glasses cause it's winter in the comics and I think it's funnier if he just wears ski googles all the time

Martyn also lives with Ren and I like to think BigB also hangs around Ren's place

Pearl's got an eyepatch cause her red skin has the scar situation happening idk

Scar suffers from some kind of infection at some point perhaps severely limiting his mobility🤔 idk i'm still messing around with the idea

Skizz is always beaten up in some way, shape or form cause it's Skizz but he's also the impromptu leader of sorts... Ren's just kinda the motivator, the one that gets everyone fired up

overall I tried making everyone look a little disheveled™️ cause you know it's the apocalypse and beauty is not everyone's main priority

thanks for reading my rants homies im real sick in the head about this one

(alt texts will be added later, i have to sleepy right now sorry luvs)

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (2)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Two: Strain Curve (see previous or series)

IMPORTANT: I forgot to mention and link that this started with an anon ask, so I should give them credit for the idea. Here's where this all started! Additionally, Richard Fisk is an actual Marvel character and the son of Kingpin. All that is straight out of the comics (and animated shows), down to the horrible color choices.

Summary: Steve shelters you from Fisk while attempting to hide the truth from Tony. He's not a great liar...but how much of this is really fake?

Warnings for fluffy fluff of the 21st-fluffery with a teeny bit of angst, 100% idiots in love! Also a quick disclaimer about me knowing exactly diddlysquat about fashion design. I binged 'Next In Fashion' and so this is the best I got lol... WC 4066

You watch Steve blush at your attempted smile. He paws at the back of his head before gathering another confession.

“Actually, I do have—I mean, yes, I wanted to see you, but uh—“ he rushes over to fetch a paper bag he must have stashed as he snuck in behind the cops “—I did have a reason to come.”

In the bag, you find three shirts, and your smile turns more genuine.

“Of course, you did. How romantic.”

You’re still awash with adrenaline; there’s no filter to keep your teasing at bay. You can barely pick up that you said anything anyway.

Steve shrugs, looking down to take back the shirts as Abby returns with a glass of water for you. “Not my best move.”

You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it. Abby gently pries Steve’s shirts from his tense arms.

“Right.” Steve rolls his shoulders out, straightening and clearly falling into Captain mode. “We need to get you somewhere safe. I just have to make a few calls and—“

“Don’t tell Stark,” you blurt, hand instinctively grabbing the wrist that holds his phone ready. “I’m sorry. That sounded like an order, just…please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tony can’t know that Fisk has been using you as a tailor as well. He can’t. 

Alarm and curiosity flicker behind Steve’s blue eyes, but he hides it well immediately. “Ok. I’ll—” he makes no move to take his arm back “—think of something.”

“And I have three clients left…for the day.”

Abby tsks you from behind though it’s the truth. The empty glass rattles on the tabletop with your faint tremor.

Steve thinks for a prolonged, squinting moment. “After work then. I’ll pick you up.”

You run off adrenaline and butterflies the rest of the day, and yes, whatever liquids or snacks Abby and Dominica (when she returns from her errand) put into your hand along the way, but mostly it’s the fluttering anticipation of Steve that floats you through.

And then he’s back and it’s already dark outside.

“Oh shit,” you burst, politely showing Mr. Chen out while Steve waits his turn to get in the door. He says nothing, but Captain America lowers his head in disapproval at your curse. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Let me grab some things.”

You race up the stairs to the apartment over the shop. Your clientele and brand used to be small enough that you could keep those two sides of life separate, but slowly, your work has crept into your living space. Now you survive from a dresser, a hanging rack, and a Murphy bed that doubles as a small desk when it’s upright against the wall.

Not much of an existence, but it’s very practical.

You’re shuffling around with an overnight bag and a dump tote to grab mostly work things and two changes of clothes. One of your assistants can bring you more stuff if/when necessary, but it feels presumptive to think you’ll live out of a safe house for long.

“So…working to live or living to work?”

You jump at Steve’s deep voice from the open doorway. He looks around at the hodgepodge of work benches and mannequins lining the walls.

“It’s a fluid and evolving situation,” you admit, sweeping several binders of fabric swatches and sketch pads into the tote. You eye a work-in-progress on one of the dummies and decide against trying to take it. Too bulky.

In order not to keep Steve waiting, you hand over the tote and head to the car, texting Abby and Dominica instructions the whole drive. Steve assures you that you’ll still have wifi and freedom to communicate, so you don’t have to clear fittings and consults off the books. It simply won’t be wise to invite welcome clients into where you’re staying.

Admittedly, that’s very generous considering you could have been looking at a blackout, witness-protection level of hiding.

You’re still on your phone when Steve opens your car door, and you shuffle with your duffel, his feet at the edge of your periphery to follow. It doesn’t register that you walk down a long hall. It doesn’t register that there’s an elevator ride and another voice. It doesn’t register that you’re looking at a kind of hostel-esque apartment inside another building until you ask if there’s a space you’ll be able to spread out for work.

Steve glows with pride that he thought of that and walks you to a conference room…surrounded by glass…overlooking a 30-story high view of the city.

You’re in the Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to know.”

Steve gets your confusion right away. “Tony doesn’t, but without filing paperwork stating the reason you need a safe house, this was the best—“

“Sheers!” the booming voice of one Tony Stark reverberates across 360 degrees of windows. “I thought it might be you.”

“Might be me for what?” you ask as innocently as possible.

“As Capsicles’ first, of course.”

Steve hangs his head while his pal claps him on the back.

“First use of his guest pass that is. Granted, I’ve been saying for years we need an in-house tailor, but no takers…” Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”

Steve shoots wary eyes your way, silently praying you ignore that remark or maybe checking you’re okay with the implication. The way Stark says ‘your girl’ as if he’s heard it several times before though…

“Something like that,” you shrug. 

“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”

“Language,” you hiss quietly.

The men look a little shocked for a split second before slowly turning to each other, a silent conversation passed in the empty space over your head. Whatever just happened seems to have really convinced Tony because a wry smile flickers beneath his sinking, pale sunglasses. Yes, of course, Tony Stark is wearing sunglasses at night, just as, of course, Captain America is willingly deceiving Stark to be your fake boyfriend. 

“Romeo,” the building’s namesake coos. “Training them young, I see.”

Steve’s jaw and neck tighten, a raging flush creeping up his pale skin, but he doesn’t argue. Stark buys the ploy, which is great, but in reality, Steve doesn’t even have your personal number.

Tony lifts his hands in surrender and starts retreating to the door. “Look, I hate to take credit—“

“No, you don’t.”

Incredulous, sagging eyebrows dip below his frames. “—but I am very, very good.” He points a finger back and forth between you and Steve. “You’re welcome.”

He tries to peek under a pile of sketches atop your work tote, and you rush to slap your hand down. Stark might see the other designs you’re working on, and just like he can’t know about Fisk, he can’t know about those.

“Fine.” Tony puts his hands up again. “I’m going.”

Steve steps to your side, apology loud in his eyes, and asks if he can make you tea or something stronger, ya know, because Tony has that effect on people.

“Yeah—“ you stare off toward the elevators where Stark remains lurking “—he’s still there,” you whisper.

Steve huffs a laugh and shifts to bridge the mere inches left between you, his hand gently landing on your upper arm and planting a kiss on your forehead like a breeze.

“Better make it look good then.”

Turns out you need tea and food.

You’d been so reliant on your assistants for nourishment that you forgot dinner. Steve sees; he has it covered. Instead of winding down after a trying day, however, you get a rush of energy, and you can’t squander the chance to make crucial adjustments. Every minute counts in the lead-up to Fashion Week.

“May I join you?” Steve asks, ready to walk away with his meal in hand should you prefer. “I won’t take up much space.” He looks down at his shoes and up the two inches above his head to the top of the doorframe. “Ok, much more space,” he corrects.

“You wanted to leave me alone?”

He bites back a smile and shakes his head, settling into the least cluttered corner.

He chats excitedly as you both eat, but after failing to pry some answers about Fisk from you,—‘are you often threatened by clients?’ and ‘can you steer him in another designer’s direction?’—Steve slips away to grab his own art supplies.

You’ve barely looked up until you get a surge of inspiration and search for your colored pencils under the pile of templates. How did they get all the way over there? Since when are red and grey so worn down? Weren’t you needing to replace both blues soon?

“Those in your way? I can move them?”

Steve stops sketching, holding a yellow pencil, the only color missing from the tin. That’s when you realize. He uses the same brand of pencils you do—tools made of quality materials but nothing overly fancy.

“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”

Steve sweeps a large hand out in offering. “Mistake away.”

You can’t help it. You chew your lip to calm your grin. He’s simply a very giving man who enjoys simple things. It’s refreshing.

“Or we could trade? We seem to use the opposite colors the most.”

“Right,” Steve laughs, “I went on a tear trying for Sam’s suit in-flight. Never turned out.” Shaking his head dislodges a lock of hair, so he runs his fingers through the strategic coif.

“Hmm,” you hum absently, engrossed by his picturesque appearance, “my drawings are more like guidelines for my imagination. No need to be precise.”

“A sentiment I’ve heard many times before.” He slides the tin closer to the midway point between you. “I just want to do beauty justice, which sounds pretentious but…

“Point is—“ Steve lifts his gaze to you with a soft shrug “—use whatever you like.”

You thought your work habits were grueling, but poor Steve flits around at all hours of the day and night with workouts, training, meetings, and missions. He mostly gets to do drive-by waves of ‘hello’ as he travels the building past your glass bubble, always with a smile, always with a tinge of something else. He’s an easy man to read: you can tell when he’s fatigued (in spirit though, not body), you can tell when he’s irritated from stress, and you can tell when he wants to linger but has to go.

It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.

You continue with business as usual as best you can, video calling during consults and the most critical fittings. Clients aren’t exactly happy with your absence, but they don’t dare complain when the alternative is waiting another month for you to schedule in person. Besides, there are oftentimes you step away from routine appointments to focus on creating new lines.

Dominica is allowed to walk right in with any of your requested supplies since she’s delivered to Stark several times before. She stays for a few hours to touch base. She assures you that Tarik is no longer unnerved by the police car that sits at the curb outside the atélier’s front door. Apparently, Abby takes the cops coffee a couple times a day.

All in all, it’s going well.

One day, you think Steve is showing up for one of your ‘sketch sessions’—where he sits in his own chair somewhere around the huge oval table and quietly works alongside you—but not today.

“They…it’s…” Steve plants his feet on the carpet across from you and looks behind him nervously. Anytime other people are near the room, he walks right over to you to kiss your cheek, a show to keep up the appearance of actually being a couple, but it’s late enough that no one is around. “We do movie night—we’re doing movie ni—we’re watching a movie if you’d like to join?”

You’re tempted to tease him, ask ‘where’s my kiss’ or something that makes that fiery blush creep up Steve’s face, but you grin back. “Sure. I could use the break.”

Honestly, no, you should be hammering out some details for the lapels of this blazer, but ehh, you’re also tired of staring at the same damn jacket.

Of course, this means the lot of them save you and Steve seats beside each other on a couch. You two have only ever sat in chairs in front of or separated by a table, so figuring out how to curl up next to the man you are not dating is an adventure in micro-expressions. You share a look that lasts about two seconds but contains a forty-five-minute discussion of how far is okay to take this and agree that you want to keep up the charade.

Thus, Steve lifts his arm to drape across your shoulders, and you lean into his chest.

It’s a good fit, good enough that you wake up two hours later not knowing what the movie was about and starting to sweat from being so close to his very warm body.

Maybe it’s the eye convo or maybe napping directly on him tells Steve how comfortable you are with him, but either way, he changes to giving a kiss on the cheek or forehead every instance he sees you, no exceptions.

After a week of remaining on the same floor of the same skyscraper and doing nothing but working, sleeping, and movie-sleeping, you’re at your wit’s end, longingly staring out the window at the city below.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he enters the conference room. Forehead kiss this time. His lips feel soft and warm as they ghost over your skin.

“Stuck,” you mutter.

His hand smooths across your back. “Well, how do you normally get unstuck?”

“I go for a walk through the park.” You know you can’t go outside, but it’s difficult to wrangle every bit of bitterness at your captivity. You appreciate all Steve is doing to make it so Fisk can’t get to you, but you need fresh air.

Steve sighs like he’s mad at himself before spinning around the room. “Right.” He grabs your hand. “Come with me.”

In the elevator, Steve explains that in keeping with the eco-friendly intent of the new clean energy tower, Tony made half of the rooftop a greenhouse and the other half a garden. The walking paths are all moss-covered, but there are no benches. Just outside the elevator doors are folding chairs, and Steve grabs two.

On separate chairs with no table in sight, you two watch the sunset on the other side of the building from your work room. You take in a big breath of the chilly air and shiver, completely content to experience freedom away from climate control, but Steve rushes back into the greenhouse to retrieve a blanket from the stack beside the chairs.

“Here ya go,” he stumbles, leaning to tuck the fabric around you. “I should have brought us tea or something,” but when he makes to leave this time, you take his hand.

“You’ll miss it.” He’s probably seen the view from here a million times before, but you don’t want him to go. “Stay,” you say in a whisper.

Steve visibly softens, shoulders dropping, eyes alight. “Yeah?” He sits again and looks at the nearly cloudless sky. “Yeah.” He slouches to get comfy in the small and unsupportive chair, but he looks so at home bathed in the warm pink light. “Each time’s a bit different but—“ he turns to you, smiling “—this one’s better.”

Since the sunset sit-down, Steve makes a point to pry you away from the work area when he has time to hang out with you. The couch isn’t actually far away from the conference room, but it does mean you get to sit together, your feet in his lap while he reads a book, listening to his commentary on the author’s points or sketching aimlessly for fun.

The whole thing feels like a bizarre vacation, some alternate reality where your home life intersects with superheroes. Tony Stark may have been a sometimes-client, but he never let you attempt anything more custom than a three-piece suit. 

You’re not complaining; it’s just weird that Captain America is so average when his uniform comes off. He sinks his face into his palm when he’s sleepy. His yawn is outrageously adorable for how big the man is. He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions. His eyelids droop, and he repeats paragraphs when he can no longer keep his place on the page.

Steve Rogers could not be more normal, and for this reason, you find him extraordinary.

He gets dressed every morning while you’re there, no sweatpants, no workout wear—or, what did Sam call it? Athleisure? That’s not a word, right?—except for when Steve is actively working out. He thinks it’s too on-the-nose to wear your designs in front of you for days on end, but that limits his options significantly, considering how much of his wardrobe sports a Tovarich label. Good jeans and a black sweater will have to do because today he’s playing model.

It seems the mannequin Dominica hauled in for you isn’t close to the right proportions for your client so Steve volunteered, rewarded immediately with a gorgeous, toothy smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage.

Steve’s chatty but can’t help it.

There was one conversation a few days ago that unlocked so many memories he thought he’d lost.

While he peeked at a few of your sketches, you asked him about clothing in the 40s, and he took your notepad to doodle a bit. Steve drew a common dress from memory to show you girls he grew up with, the pleats and cinches in their exact spots because—now that he has your full and rapt attention—he thinks it’s important.

He’s had to recall maps, battle maneuvers, building layouts, and evil plans more times than he can count; no one’s ever asked him how his mother styled her hair or which shoes she wore to work at the hospital.

They’re just shoes, but Steve sat misty-eyed describing how Ma tied her laces a very specific way, the way she taught him to, the way he still ties them to this very day. He hadn’t thought of why in so long, and ever since, little details keep flooding back.

“Buck used to never tuck in his shirts,” Steve laughs as you nudge his arms higher to check his range of motion in the shoulders. “He’d fix the front half and leave a tail out in the back.”

You chuckle at that. “Unacceptable for proper ol’ Stevie,” you muse.

“No, it was not—“ he drops his head in shame “—and I’d remind him every time.” Steve spins, prompted by the pull of your hands at his waist. His face is on fire, but he promised to help you. He just has to ’suffer’ through your touch, he supposes.

How horrible…

“Sharp dresser, were you? Not a hair out of place?”

“Yes, ma’am, or…at least for my size I was.”

You’re deep in thought, pulling the bottom hem to check how it lays at his hips, checking the lining before buttoning him up. “These might be too flashy,” you mumble. “Gosh, I hope he likes this color.”

“Why not? It’s stunning,” Steve jumps too eagerly at the chance to praise the barely purple fabric. It’s that kind of illusion hue that might look black, navy, or its true shade in different lights.

“And the buttons?” you prod.

He tilts one of the stamped, dark nickel rounds to see the embellishment. “I’d consider that a signature touch of the Tovarich brand,” he beams.

Your elation is contagious until an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. You’re so startled you spring backward into a rolling chair and topple to the floor.

Steve scrambles to help you right yourself while the wailing screech continues, but he knows that noise.

Emergency.

He has to go.

You’re holding your elbow, flashing him a thumbs up, and Steve feels terrible yelling to ensure you’re okay.

Agents race past the glass walls, and he really has to run so off he goes, jacket still on.

An incredibly long seventeen hours later, Steve is returning to his room only to notice you’ve fallen asleep at the conference table. He’s pleased there is no bandage on your elbow, so the fall was no worse than bruising, but he refuses to leave you there.

Slowly peeling your face and hands from your drafting paper, Steve wrestles your flopping arms and limp legs into a solid hold to carry you to your own room.

You don’t wake up, not fully, only enough to grip the shoulder strap of his shield harness as he gently lowers you onto the unmade bed. Luckily, your MO is to kick off your shoes when concentrating on work, so once you release the leather attached to him, he pulls the covers over you.

He kisses your temple. “Night, Button,” he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.

You simply sigh and turn deeper into the pillow.

Steve purposefully finds you at breakfast to ask if you’d want to get lunch with him. Yes, it would just be in the cafeteria on the lower levels, and yes, you two have already shared many meals, but in his mind, this is the actual ask, the question of ‘will you go out with me’ instead of just ‘are you hungry at this reasonable time and may I be hungry in your vicinity.’

It’s stupid, he knows. He’s anxious for your answer anyway.

Steve has a very love/hate relationship with having you essentially trapped in the Tower. On the one hand, you’re starved for interaction and the choice of your surroundings. On the other hand, he gets you all to himself. He’s ashamed of how much he enjoys that perk. Somewhere deep inside, he hopes whatever Fisk is after is never resolved, but that’s wishful—and terribly selfish—thinking.

Just in case going on a deliberate date with him isn’t offer enough, Steve can return your client’s jacket. He hung it in his locker when changing into the tactical suit. It’s safe, but he’ll get it after his debrief. That’s a good excuse. That’ll work.

You’re happy and excited, only making him more nervous, but it’s progress. He’s done ‘round noon after the long meeting scheduled to start in, yikes, fifteen minutes, and you quickly agree. Steve floats on cloud nine, bouncing his foot until dismissed so he can rush back up to you.

He isn’t expecting to see Tony in your bubble.

“You don’t know me, Stark. How dare you!” Your face twists in fury. “Screw this,” you shout, frantic in grabbing your essentials from the table. “I don’t answer to you. I don't need this. Someone else will get my things.”

Steve doesn’t understand why you won’t meet his eye or speak to him as you barrel past. He’s too stunned to follow you to the elevator, it feels imposing to race down and corner you in the lobby, but he marches up to Tony with wide eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

Tony waves him off, cagy and dismissive, rushing off upstairs to his lab, and Steve almost asks if this is about Fisk. If it’s not and he blabs, then you’ll definitely be angry at him. If he grills Tony too much, there might be something that gives away that Steve lied about having a significant other as his guest for two weeks. If Steve admits that he doesn’t even have your number, the jig is 100% up.

But he knows you have his number, he knows he still has a jacket you’ll want back, and he knows one thing he’s incredibly good at.

So Steve waits, ready to apologize, ready to grovel, ready to yell at Tony for whatever. He is just ready and waiting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @darsynia

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SMG3's Interactable Adventure - Chapter 2

Previous chapter

[As you can see, we meet our host clearer this time. Forgot to include this before but

Word count: 4354

Vote by the end of chapter, choose Wisely :) ]

“The votes are in, boy!” exclaimed the mysterious figure with a cheerful tone.

“Votes for what?” 3 looked at them confused. He still couldn’t shake it off that something looked familiar about them. Though appearance didn’t do much, that voice was all too familiar. He swore he heard them somewhere before.

“The audience’s choice! To help you feel better in this odd situation!”

“So… I wasn’t the only one feeling it?”

“That’s right! Now here” the figure handed him the receipt.

“What is this? It’s… huh” 3 found it strange “What should I do with this?”

“Is it really fun if I told you?” the figure laughed, lightly punching him in the shoulder.

“I don’t want it to be fun”

“Well that’s not very entertaining” they shook their head “Alright, off you go, you’ll figure it out. You’re pretty creative and smart afterall… or so I’ve heard” the figure teased him as they disappeared, then with a snap of fingers that seemed to come from all directions, he was back. Back in the forest. It was dark.

“3!!! 3, where are you??” 3 could hear an all too familiar voice. 

He still hid, still wary… Why did 4 kiss him then? Was… Was the 2 of them being in a relationship really true? When did they get together then? The idea that this could be an elaborate prank made his heart sink. It reminded him of how in school no one really wanted him like that, and when he was asked out, it was for a joke or a bit. 

He shook his head, he did not have time for this. 

He snuck around 4, as best as he could, avoiding him and finding his way back to his cafe.

He entered his cafe, the light illuminating inside standing in contrast to the outside. His current situation felt similar to it. He looked around the cafe, it was mainly the same… just with a few different touches. He had pictures of his friends on the wall, and his employee of the month wasn’t Eggdog… it was 4. He was working here? Since when? Well, he worked there once but then 3… sort of got the hang of it. At least he thought. It got hard over time, which was… pretty prominent on his mind. It felt weird seeing his cafe doing well. Though it was nice, it filled him with warmth he had been missing. This was nice.

He went back to his room, also looking around more clearly now. He found his notebook. He started flipping through it… It looked different from how he remembered it. His doodles, his thoughts seemed to easily soften on 4. He found ideas on how he should confess to him, with silly sketches to accompany them. He would lie if he said he didn’t think about stuff like this but he didn’t remember actually drawing these. He was never… that open. But he knew, these were true. More true than he could ever bare. He felt tears again. He yearned for this so much. He needed this kind of honesty in his life. It kind of made him feel nice. Although he still couldn’t shake off the oddness… maybe it was just the fact that he couldn’t remember, for some reason. That must be it.

As he flipped through the notebook, a strip of photos slipped out, one you would get in a photobooth. It had him and 4, being happy, being close… in one 3 pulled him in for a kiss and… 4 looked so content, just the image sent 3’s brain to a different world. He felt so flustered. He put it back into the notebook and put it down. The evidence around truly suggested that he was remembering things wrong. Since… this would be a lot of effort just to fool him. 

He went back out to the cafe, running into 4. 4 looked worried but he was glad to see him.

“Hey, you’re back” 4 spoke softly, clearly being careful. 3’s heart melted with how careful 4 was clearly being. He was so in love.

“Yeah… I’m sorry, 4… I’m sorry I did… all that”

4 chuckled.

“It’s not everyday my partner runs off crying so yeah… yeah I got worried… What’s up?”

“I… well, promise not to freak out?”

“Of course, I won’t!”

“I… don’t remember too much, as I found out”

4 blinked, not sure how to react.

“As you found out?”

“Yeah… I don’t… I don’t remember being in a relationship or… hiring you for real” 3 chuckled, looking anywhere but to 4.

“Oh, uhm” 4 looked down at his feet, trying to think “Do you… mind it then?”

“No… I…” 3 sighed, knowing the truth and know he had to speak the truth “Even without remembering, I know that I love you”

4 smiled, finding it lightly amusing how red 3’s face became over this.

“You really don’t remember… It’s been so long since I saw you so flustered”

“Sorry-”

“No no. I missed it” 4 walked close to 3, then wrapped his arm around his waist “And I love you either way too”

3 felt so happy hearing these words. It felt so weird. It felt so weird for him to be this vulnerable but he never felt so great. It was hard, his body was fighting him but he never wanted something this badly. He leaned into 4’s touch, seeing 4 smile at that only made him feel even more flustered.

“Now you’re just too cute” 4 joked and booped 3’s nose. 3 giggled, he was just too lovestruck. Then 3 remembered something.

“Hey, 4” 3 started, 4 looked at him curiously “I… got this receipt”

He handed 4 the receipt he was given by the stranger figure back in that void. 

4 stared at it for a bit before recognition showed in his eyes.

“Hey, this is from our first date” his smile was comfortingly warm “It was at this one restaurant… it wasn’t too fancy but it wasn’t one of our usual places… That’s pretty special, I didn’t think I could see this again, I thought we threw it away!”

“Huh… I guess not”

“Where did you get this?”

3 wasn’t sure if he should actually share how he got it.

“I found it while looking around after I got back”

“Huh! And I thought I was sentimental” 4 laughed, kissing 3’s cheek. 3 was so very flustered once again.

“Heeey…  didn’t know I had it so I wouldn’t know!” 3 laughed right back. The vibes were nice.

4 yawned.

“Hey, what if we sleep here? If… you’re still okay sleeping beside me that is” 4 looked at him a bit sad, although obviously willing to give 3 space.

“No, I’d rather you sleep with me”

4 hugged 3, his happiness clearly showing. 3 was so so happy… 4 showing this joy just because of him. He could get addicted.

The 2 went to his bed. 4 went to take a shower, 3 stayed back, for which 4 seemed to stop for a second, shook his head then went to the bathroom. After a bit, he was back, he had shorts on with a simple but comfortable T-shirt. Maybe 3 was looking in places where he shouldn’t but he was getting quite flustered at the sight.

“What’s on your mind, 3?”

“Oh uh-” 3’s face became so red, he could match the Ugandan Knuckles.

“You know” 4 grabbed 3’s face, clearly teasing him “considering you don’t remember, I didn’t ask you to but… we actually showered together a lot. I was about to ask before but then remembered…” 

3’s mind was a mess.

“I-I’ll go shower” 3 got up and hurried to shower. His face was almost unbearingly warm.

The shower calmed him down a bit. At least he could be alone with his thoughts for a bit and adjust to the fact that 4 showered with him before. That was crazy to think about… Well, guess he had a lot of things he had to get used to now.

He went back, 4 waited for him patiently. As soon as 3 reached within 4’s reach, 4 pulled him in by his waist, basically slamming him in bed. He didn’t let go afterwards.

“Not gonna lie… I didn’t know you were so clingy” 3 joked, which got 4 to chuckle.

“Only with you”

3 tried not to think about it, but the thought wouldn’t escape him.

“Only with me?”

“Yeah… you’re my…” 4 pulled enough out of the hug to face 3, very close at that “special boy”

3 didn’t even know how to react to the petname. He was screaming internally.

“Hehe..” 4 laughed “was that too much for you to handle?”

“H..Huh… no, I’m… I’m strong enough, you can’t beat me that simply!”

“I’ll believe when I’ll see it”

3 thought for a second before pulling 4 in for a kiss. 4 leaned into it so much. He loved it.

3 pulled away, feeling warm again but at least not as flustered as before. He couldn’t believe he just did that.

“Heh… nice, maybe I underestimated you” 4 spoke softly into 3’s ear. 3 felt so much.

“Yeah, you bet” 3 yawned “Hmm.. we should sleep”

4 turned the light off in the room.

“Night, love” 

“Night, 4”

They both fell asleep.

—

The room looked cold. It was dark. It would’ve been fully dark if not for the bright screen. The bright screen was obstructed by the figure in front of it. They could be heard mumbling. It was hard to make out what they were saying but they didn’t sound calm, that was for sure.

There could be knocking heard, then words. It sounded like words of concern, from a familiar voice. The mumbling from the figure in front of the screen got louder, then suddenly quiet. They seemed to answer the voice outside then go out. Leaving nothing but the darkness and the screen to look at. It was hard to figure out. 

“Hey, what is this?” a familiar figure came, this time the voice was clear to be heard “How did this get here…” 

The figure looked at the screen confused. They had fair skin, long, gray hair, tied into a ponytail, their bangs obscuring one of their eyes. However their other eye was very visible, it was a vibrant green. They seemed to eye something curiously.

“This place looks similar to… wait” they seemed to take the thing with them. As they left the dark room, it was revealed… they were inside SMG4’s castle. It was a lot brighter outside. They looked around but saw nobody.

“I’ve… got a bad feeling” the person who took the camera spoke softly, although they weren’t in the frame anymore, even without seeing their face, you could tell they were nervous.

As they looked they seemed to spot someone.

“Hey! Who are you?” the voice was heard but not having time to look, we didn’t even get a chance to look ourselves. The person ran out of the castle, fast at that, their running making rather strange noises… as if they were… slithering metal? How is that possible?

“Oooh shiiit” their voice sounded distorted. 

“HEY, GET BACK HERE!!” the same voice from before could be heard. Then everything went dark.

—

3 woke up before 4. He thought for a bit, thinking about the strange dream he had. What did that mean? Did it mean anything? The stress of figuring things out just probably got to him, that’s all! Although he couldn’t fully shake it off, something felt so… odd about it.

3 got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face. It felt nice and cold. Refreshing. He needed that. He couldn’t help but gaze at himself in the mirror, empty thoughts rushing through his head. It felt like his head was empty. Something about looking at his own reflection, staring into his own eyes captured him. As if the world was only him and nothing else. The thought put a weird taste in his mouth as he shook his head, splashing water in his face again.

He went back to 4, seeing he was still asleep. Just looking at him so peaceful… He couldn’t help but lie right back next to him, snuggling up to him. He really liked being beside him. His warmth really grounded him.

He didn’t know how long he had been there by then, just embracing 4’s closeness. He could feel 4 stir awake.

“Morning, handsome” 3 said to him in a soft voice. 4 smiled at him.

“Greater morning to you, my special man” 4 reached for 3’s face, which got rather warm. Being called special seemed to be his weakness. Like… him, special? One of a kind? Out of the ordinary? His heart melts.

“Am I really that speci-”

“Yes”

4 quickly kissed him on the lips. It may have been short but it still left quite the impression on 3. 

“Hey, I was thinking” 3 started, after processing the kiss.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“What if… we went to that restaurant, where we had our first date… maybe it could help me remember or something…”

4 thought for a bit.

“Honestly, why not! I know it’s not the type of restaurant where you need the appointment so… it could work whenever really”

“That’s nice… so like maybe after we’re done with the work day?”

“I’m sure we can leave it to the others for today”

“The others?”

“Yeah! You actually employed a lot of us”

“Good… to know”

“But yeah, we could go if you wanted to”

“I’d… I’d like to yeah! I have to make it up to you for… forgetting us” 3 looked away kind of sad.

“Don’t worry!! We’ll be fine, I promise”

“Are you sure?”

“More than sure”

4 notified the others, who were more understanding than 3 thought they would be. It felt… odd. They were truly… friendly? He kind of liked it, he couldn’t lie. It felt nice to be cared about.

They both got ready, 4 was wearing something similar to his spy outfit but instead with a comfortable light jacket instead of the vest. 3 wasn’t sure what to wear for a bit but then decided to match 4. That was… such a fond memory for him. The whole heist. It may have happened due to something he wasn’t so happy about but it was nice to work together with 4 like that. 

They got going, their friends waved them goodbye then got back to work. 4 used his own portal powers to open one and they were right in front of the restaurant.

“You can just do that now?” 3 looked at 4 confused.

“Oh- Yeah… you actually helped me practice”

“Huh… Heh, nice… me teaching you… I wish I remembered”

“I’ll see if I can find some stuff from that later” 4 put a hand on 3’s shoulder. 

The amount that 4 cared almost made 3 nauseous. He loved it.

They went in and found a table that wasn’t taken. They had a nice time talking, 3 could truly feel it… That they’ve been there before. Everything just felt familiar in a strange way. And even through all this, it was really hard to take his eyes off of 4. The man enraptured him. 4 noticed it. He smiled but took a bit to comment on it.

“Am I that great to look at?” 4 joked

“Absolutely” 3 said without much thinking. Though it didn’t take him much as his response settled in his brain, his eyes went wide, face red… He really said that. He looked away, 4 giggled at the reaction.

Even the atmosphere of the restaurant was nice. The lights were soft enough but not too dark, overall giving the place a comforting orange glow, contrasted by the outside light. It felt like 2 different worlds. 2 different worlds…

That’s when 3 remembered the weird dream he had. He almost started forgetting about it but he could, and he… only seemed to remember more. 4 noticed the sudden change.

“Did something happen?” 4 asked, reaching out for 3’s hand, squeezing it.

3 thought for a bit… He could trust 4, he should just tell him!

“So… I had… a weird dream…”

“A weird dream?”

“Yeah it’s… kind of hard to explain… I think it took place in your castle”

4 hummed.

“Do you remember anything else?”

“Sort of… it…” 3 looked down, not wanting to face 4 “It kind of reminded me of your 100 hour livestream… The darkness with nothing but the screen…”

4 didn’t comment on it, only squeezing 3’s hand. They sat in silence for a bit as 3 calmed down.

“I’m sorry I reminded you of that, 4”

“It’s okay… It’s not your fault… That’s in the past anyways, you know? We’ve become stronger since” 4 smiled at 3 full of hope. He really needed that. 

“That helps actually, thanks… It’s almost like you always know what to say”

4 chuckled then let go of 3’s hand. They continued the meal, now more peacefully

They finished and paid for the food then left. 4 seemed to be lost in thought… 3 couldn’t help but comment on that.

“Something on your mind?”

“Yeah… I was thinking about going to another special place”

“Oh? Where?”

“It’s a secret… and a long ride, if you don’t mind that”

“Can’t use portals for that?”

“It’s… unlike the places where portals could take you”

“Well! Colour me intrigued then” 

4 summoned his RV he was living in before. Surprisingly, he still kept it clean. 3 was impressed.

“Hey, nice that you still keep it in good condition”

“It’s not like it became junk once I had a place to stay”

“True that but I thought you wouldn’t”

“You think I’m that lazy?”

3 just shrugged, close to chuckling at his own remark. 4 just rolled his eyes.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that” 4 sat in the driver’s seat. 

3 now couldn’t help but laugh as he took a seat beside 4.

He always liked looking outside the window, watching everything go past them… Just like the opportunities in his past… Times when he could’ve done better, times when he could’ve done worse. And how much different he would’ve become. These thoughts kind of scared him. The idea that there could’ve been so many opportunities where he could’ve killed 4- and where he would be now. If 4 wasn’t around, he… he didn’t know what he’d do. Sure, he has flaws, lots of it but… He cared. He cared too much.

He sighed, seemingly loud enough for 4 to hear.

“Something on your mind again?”

“Just thinking about what my life would be if you weren’t around”

“Just- That bluntly, you’re gonna say it that bluntly?” 4 looked at 3 a bit too long, he quickly looked back at the road. It seemed to really upset him.

“If it makes you feel better, I definitely wouldn’t be happy… I don’t even know where I’d be without you”

“You’re strong yourself, don’t worry… I’m sure you would be okay. So another reason I’m glad you’re here with me now” 4 calmed down then reassured 3.

“You really think so much of me…”

“It’s hard not to” 4 giggled. 

“You know, back then… I always thought you thought of me as lesser”

4 frowned.

“If… that were to be the case, we wouldn’t have been rivals you know”

“Oh! I… I see what you mean”

“I’m glad”

“Still… I’m sorry I tried to kill you before… and tried to take over your channel…”

“And I’m sorry I’ve ruined your dreams a lot! See, we both did bad things! Don’t worry”

“Huh… When… when you put it that way”

“It changes everything”

“You’re stealing my words now?”

“No! Well… yeah. You said the exact same thing when we had a heart to heart… I remember you having a bad day. And I wanted to help”

“Oh- and I’m guessing it helped.”

“It did, maybe it worked a bit too well… I think it was one of the first times I started thinking… maybe… maybe I have a chance to well- date you… That I could be good enough for you”

“You were always good enough”

4 was very flustered by that. It was hard focusing on the road.

“Well, I’m- I’m glad” he chuckled nervously.

“Didn’t think that would get you like that. Your power over me weakens” 3 imitated an evil laugh over his silly revelation. 4 could only chuckle.

“Tch, well maybe, but I have tricks up my sleeve… and other places, things you’re not ready for”

“Other… places?”

“I’m not going to just tell you! I gotta keep you on your toes after all”

“Unfair honestly, considering my state of not remembering much”

“Yeah yeah, don’t care, didn’t ask plus I’m a bit of a troll”

“Wow!! Rude! Guess we are still rivals, huh?”

“I just like messing with you, your reactions are amusing”

“Amusing?”

“They make me love you even more”

“H… Huh… you… you” 3 was struggling “You’re…” he was stumped. There was just no way he could counter that. If they were to be like what he remembered… Oh, they would fight now. But things were different. 

“See? Tricks up my sleeve”

“Yeah… yeah… you are… so gay”

“Kind of, yeah, took you long enough to figure it out”

“Did it actually?”

“Yeah.. honestly I wasn’t sure myself. Feelings can be… odd”

“I get that… feelings will do that. I should know”

“Cuz our rivalry made you gay?”

“Hmmm” 3 thought for a bit “I think it’s the other way around”

“Maybe, I didn’t think too much about it then”

“Yeah, your mind only had place for memes”

“Hey now! It has space for my friends and you as well now. And the memes, I would never abandon the memes”

“Do… Do I get a special space?” 3 asked softly, you could hear him almost plead for that special space. 

“The most special of them all” 4 teased 3, who in turn giggled about it. My man… His once-cold heart was like a cup of tea now, so warm, so sweet… Who knew a man could butter him up so much?

They spent the rest of the road relatively similarly, with some playful words to get reactions out of the other. It was nice… Although the day was getting long by then. The sun was setting. 4 yawned.

“Hey, we’ve been going for a while now” 4 said, looking tired as all hell.

“Yeah, should we rest for a bit?”

“Yeah… a nap in your arms would be nice right now”

“Wow, in my arms specifically?”

“Don’t you want to rest as well?”

“I do I do- I was just playing”

“Well, I was almost planning to just nap by myself then”

“No no- I want to join, I want to join, okay?”

“You’re clingy”

“You love it”

“You’ve got a point”

The 2 took off their shoes and jackets, putting them aside, then got on 4’s rather tiny bed.

“I’m gonna have to press you in there if I don’t want to fall off” 3 commented.

“Feel free to, I can’t object to being pressed”

3 raised an eyebrow at 4 but decided to shrug it off. He was not ready for that conversation right now. It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep.

It was dark. All dark again. A darkness he was rather familiar with at this point. 3 got up and looked around.

“What is it now?”

“Um-” 3 heard a familiar voice.

“You-”

“Hiiiiii, how are you, SMG3?”

“I’ve… never been this good honestly, thanks for asking”

“Yeeeaaah…” they were clearly nervous about something.

“... Is… something wrong?”

“Nooo, what makes you ask that, nothing is wrong!!” 

“So… what am I here for this time then? Last time you gave me the receipt… and it came pretty handy! Thanks for that. I had such a great day because of it”

“Yeeeeaaah so… you don’t mind if I um- make them vote again on something-”

“I… I don’t really care? Just don’t let it interfere with my plans with 4. I wonder where he’s taking me”

“Yeah yeah yeah!! Uh-”

“I’ve… I’ve been wondering… what’s your name?” 

The figure proceeded to stare into 3’s eyes, seemingly frozen. He never really paid attention to it, but although one of their eyes is obscure by their bangs… they have really bright green eyes. Like… the person in his ‘dream’... 

“Wh… What are you?” 3 further questioned.

“I’m- I’m… you can call me Annie, I usually… go by that name in non business settings”

“Non… business settings?”

“Yes”

“Didn’t take you for a business person…You’re dressed pretty casual”

Sure enough, the combination of their comfy looking purple scarf, their white tanktop which was tucked into kind of fancy dark green flare dresspants. It was… actually a rather odd look. How did 3 not realise this before?

“I-... I do business while comfortable-”

“Sure thing”

3 chuckled at the odd behaviour. It was strikingly different from last time he saw them.

“Anyways… I… I’ve got to let them choose between things again… It is… uh… part of the story”

“Story?”

“Yeah- we’re basically playing choose your adventure right now”

“Oh… OH??? WHAT?? The hell you mean choose your adventure??”

“Yeah! I don’t know how you got here, I was just told to moderate it. They… can’t choose for you to die for example!”

“Well they better fucking not!!”

“Okay um, I’ll present them with their choices now! You… still can’t see them. It’s part of the rules that even I’m not allowed to break”

“Bummer”

“Please… Choose wisely”

They manifest 2 items.

The first one was… Nothing? It was literally nothing. 

The second one was an envelope, it was a bit crumpled but it was still sealed. Presumably the person who put their letter in there struggled with it a little. Skill issue or something like that.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Stuck storming

Pairings: Weems x R (Platonic)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: You and Weems get stuck in Burlington. Luckily Weems has somewhere for you to stay. However unluckily you get sick.

TW: flooding, sickness (like flu symptoms), prescription meds, anxiety, medicine

A/n there will be a part 2 to this but the whole thing was too long (in my opinion) to post as just one chapter/post. And I felt I needed it to be long to get in all the good stuff.

The rain smashed against the windshield and the wind blew relentlessly. You and the headmistress had been on your way back from Burlington when you got the storm warning. Principal Weems had been hoping to make it back to nevermore before the roads flooded. All the two of you had was her laptop, your sketchbook, a pencil-case, her work planner, both of your wallets with various amounts of cash and credit cards, your uniform and the clothes on your back. If you got stuck there really wasn’t too much to do until you made it back. You had left your phone in your dorm, but you were pretty sure that principal Weems had hers in the pocket of her white blazer. Luckily you had the foresight to bring a single change of mildly comfy clothes for the drive back, not eager to sit in the car for hours in your stiff uniform.

You felt bad, it was partly your fault the two of you were in this situation. It had begun when your art teacher had posed the idea to Larissa during a staff meeting to enter the best of the art classes works into the annual competition at Burlington. When she had received a call back a few weeks later she was pleasantly surprised to hear you had won. She had yet to see the artworks as she had simply given the teacher permission before she was wrapped up in work again.

As a part of the prize, the winner had their work exhibited at the art museum and the company hosted an event of their donors, other artists and art critics. It was a good way for the school to show face and even potentially scope for new donors. When Larissa had seen your artwork, a large painting of nevermore, she loved it. It was done in acrylic paints set at sunrise with the colours bouncing off the stone walls. She offered you money for it to hang in the school, but you declined saying she could have it for free as it was too large to take home with you after the school year.

Larissa had chatted idly with the other high-end members of society, and you showed face and awkwardly thanked people when they complimented your art. You honestly had no idea why you had agreed to enter, praise was not something you were very good with receiving. Larissa seemed to notice and often helped change the topic for you.

After around a stuff half hour of pleasantries and fake smiles you took your sketchbook and hid out further in the gallery to sketch. After a while Larissa came and sat with you before the event ended and you said your goodbyes. You changed in the gallery bathrooms and put your folded uniform in your backpack around your sketchbook to protect it from the rain that was starting outside. The backpack wasn’t waterproof.

However now it seemed you weren’t going to be making it back today or maybe even tomorrow. You had had a lucky run so far but coming across one of the creeks it had risen above the bridge. Effectively flooding and meaning you would have to stay in Burlington for the night. Larissa sighed.

“Sorry darling. Looks like we’re staying for the night.” She said apologetically.

“It's alright you didn’t cause the rain.” You smiled.

“I guess you're right.” She said and put the car into gear.

After the drive back you pulled into a parking lot in front of a what seemed to be an apartment complex.

“Um is this a hotel?” You asked, confused. Larissa laughed softly.

“No darling. This is my apartment.” You looked at her surprised. “I often have conferences in Burlington and so do other teachers, a few years ago we raised funds to buy and apartment so teachers could save costs and opt for something other than a stiff hotel mattress for however many nights they would be staying.”

“Cool.” You said.

“I’ll go find a park you go into the warm.” She said pulling up by the front door. You nodded and got out. Larissa went to park, and you found the door locked. With no other option you clutched your bag to your chest and stood in the rain waiting. After a few minutes Larissa came hurrying over.

“Darling? What are you doing outside still?” She asked concerned.

“L-locked” you stuttered and she mentally facepalmed, it was after five of course it was locked. She quickly put in the code and ushered you inside. You were freezing your teeth chattering and you began to worry you were going to get sick from the rain and the cold.

“Come, we need to warm you up.” The principal said and pulled you into an elevator. She pressed a button and pulled you into her side with an arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep you warm. She ran her hand up and down the sleeve of your soaked hoodie to try and get some warmth from the friction.

After what felt like ages, the lift stopped, and Larissa put in another code. Explaining that each floor was an apartment so each level had its own code so only those who lived there could get in. After a minute a small light above the keypad went green and the door shuddered open. You stepped out after Larissa, and she turned on the light. The place was clean and very modern. White walls and grey stone bench tops. There was a kitchen with a fridge, oven and microwave which was in an open plan living room. There were ceiling to floor windows in the living room which looked out on the city below. There was a dining table and couch and a tv. Down the corridor you assumed were bedrooms, bathrooms and maybe a laundry room.

“Go hope in the shower love. First bedroom on the right. It had an ensuite. I’ll leave you some of the spare clothes i keep here on the bed for when your done and we can put those in the dryer after.” She said setting her bag down on the table. You nodded and scurried off. You left your bag just inside the bedroom door. You checked your sketchbook was ok and thanked god that you had the foresight to wrap it in your uniform, which had kept it dry.

You stripped of the soaking wet clothes which were heavy with water and stepped into the steaming shower. You shivered at the contact the warm water made with your skin. It felt amazing. Using the soap which smelt suspiciously like your principal, you also washed your hair. After a thorough shower you stepped out and towel dried your hair. Carefully opening the door wrapped only in a towel you peaked out. Just as promised, principal Weems had left you a shirt which was too big on you and fell to your mid thighs but was comfy and soft. She had also left a pair of tracksuit pants with a drawstring that you couldn’t imagine her wearing no matter how hard you tried. You put the clothes on and looked n the mirror. A bit baggy on you but you rolled up the cuffs of the pants and it was fine. You were mildly surprised to see the t-shirt was an old band t-shirt which looked like it was from the 80s based on the words on the back. “Rolling stones world tour 1987” was printed in big letters and you giggled imagining your hard-working principal dancing around in a crowd at what would have probably been a rave.

After warming yourself up, you groaned as you realised the pressure in your head wasn’t from the heat but another reason. The beginnings of a headache budded behind your eyes, and you pressed the heel of your palm to them in an attempt to stop it. You sniffled and the pressure in your sinuses grew.

“Dammit” you cursed. How were you supposed to survive in close quarters with your principal when sick? Normally you isolated yourself and looked after your own body until you were better. But you doubted you would be able to do that or hide the sickness from Larissa.

Heaving a sigh, you opened the bedroom door and wandered back into the living room. The principal was sat with a mug of hot chocolate and there was a second one on the coffee table. She was scrolling through Netflix, and you plopped down beside her. She raised a brow but didn’t comment, opting for another sip of the chocolate drink. She gestured towards the mug, and you thanked her and cradled the warm drink in your hands. Taking careful sip incase it was hot, the blissful taste of liquid chocolate smoother than silk and rich as honey flooded your mouth. You let out a small noise of content and Larissa laughed making you blush slightly.

“It's my own special stash. I keep it for after stressful conferences. I get it imported from Switzerland.” She said and you looked at her wide eyed.

“The Swedes?” You asked and she laughed again and nodded. “Well, they certainly make good chocolate. And I’m happy I get to have it again. Thank you principal weems.” You said and she smiled softly at you.

“No problem darling.” She said

“Reminds me of home.” You said with a sigh.

“How so?” She questioned after settling on a studio Ghibli film and lowering the volume to continue the conversation.

“First of,” you began “you have excellent taste in Tv. Second, despite only ever visiting Austria, it runs in my blood. I have Austrian heritage and so at home we have a lot of Austrian food. I learnt to speak German as a kid but i don’t remember to much of it, just enough to get by.” You said and she looked at you impressed.

“Germans not an easy language to learn as a kid.” She said and you shrugged.

“I guess just… you know, talking about Europe reminds me of home. Plus, I traveled across Europe with my family as a child. I’ve even been to Switzerland and tasted their fondue firsthand.” You said with a smile.

“Im jealous.” Principle weems said. “Their cheese and chocolate are what their best at.”

“Oh, and don’t i know it.” You smiled. After a natural lull in the conversation the principal turned up the volume slightly and you curled up on the couch to get comfy. Larissa spared you a glance every now and then to check on you but you seemed content.

You didn’t remember falling asleep when you woke up. But there was no better way to wake up than to the smell of pancakes. You popped your head up to look over the back of the couch into the kitchen and smiled. The principal was dancing slightly as she cooked and looked up and met your eyes, blushing slightly at being caught.

“Good morning darling.” She said flipping another of the pancakes. “You were sleeping in late so i went to the shops and got us some food. It looks like we’re not leave anytime soon.” She said and you looked to the window. The rain still coming down hard. “I’ve contacted the school and your friends to let them know we are ok. Luckily i have my laptop and it didn’t get wet so I can always work remotely. You can do whatever you want today. Other than leave the apartment.” She smiled. “Im afraid I don’t have much here to do but there’s always the Tv and i have a random assortment of stationery you can use for art.” She smiled and you nodded and rubbed tiredly at your eyes stifling a yawn.

You felt worse today. The headache had fully set in, bordering on migraine territory. Your throat felt raw, and your head felt like it was packed with a lovely sand and cotton blended concrete that would probably only be sold as a torture device in the seventh circle of hell itself. Even after rubbing the sleep from your eyes and blinking the light hurt a bit and your head was swimming. It was feeling a bit too warm in here, but you opted to ignore that and focus on the idea of food. After a minute you stood and sat at the table. Larissa came over a minute later and put down three plates. Two empty and one piled high with a stack of breakfasty goodness. She handed you a glass of apple juice and you thanked her.

After eating some of the pancakes and drowning them in the sticky syrup the principle had provided you paused eyes wide, made chew.

“Shit.” You said and the principal paused.

“Ms L/n-“ she began but you cut her off.

“I don’t have my anxiety meds with me.” You said sounding slightly panicked. Larissa paled slightly.

“Darling?” She said slowly and carefully. “What happens if you don’t take them?” She looked almost scared.

“Oh, i’ll be fine. A bit more anxious than i like to be. But fine.” You said coming to terms with it.

“Hmmm.” The principal hummed. “Are they prescription?” She asked and you nodded. “I’ll see if i can get the nurse to send a script to the local pharmacy that’s just down the road. And i’ll pick them up for you. When do you need them by?” She asked looking at her watch.

“Preferable as soon as possible but i can wait.” You said poking at the food on your plate. It seemed like the room was getting hotter and it was getting harder to downplay the congestion in your voice. The excuse of sleep was quickly running out. After another pause, she spoke again.

“I’ll grab them after breakfast then.” She said, “do you want to come with?” The principal asked and you knew saying no would either be rude or suspicious, so you nodded. After you had eaten the uncomfortable heat had seemingly only gotten worse. You were speaking less now, and you felt principal Weems’s stare burning into your back as you watched the rain from the couch as she washed up. You knew she was getting a little suspicious now and the sickness was getting harder to hide.

After putting the dishes away, freshly hand dried and scrubbed Larissa came over to you. Placing a hand on your shoulder she frowned at the heat coming from you, but you quickly turned around and spoke before she could.

“Ready to go?” You asked hoping to sound more put together than you felt.

“Sure. Let me grab my car keys.” She said and decided to let the matter go for now. She grabbed an umbrella and the two of you went down to the car.

For some reason even the car was hot. When the principal wasn’t looking you pressed your overly hot forehead to the cool glass of the window and sighed slightly. However sneaky you thought you were being; you weren’t. Simple as that. The principal had been around more than enough stubborn teenagers to know when they were sick. Pulling into the chemist she unbuckled at reached over to press her hand to your cheek. Your eyes were closed so you jumped slightly at the unexpected contact. She clicked her tongue and sighed.

“Darling why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” She asked, her tone was gentle but stern. You turned to look at her alarmed which she thought was strangely endearing. Your cheeks held the flushed pink of a fever, and your eyes were growing glassy.

“I-i didn’t want to make you worry about me.” You admitted softly and she sighed.

“Darling it’s my job. And i also care about you.” She said softly. “I’ll pick up some medicine and supplies while I’m in the pharmacy. You stay here and hold down the fort.” She said and you hummed, placing your face against the glass again, eyes fluttering shut. The principal frowned; she had been expecting to have to fight you on it. Concerned she made a mental note to be quick.

MASTERLIST

[tommybowefuneralattendee]

79 for shaymien tyvm - katie (the last one was also me you get it)

79. “i like being close to you. you’re warm.”

linked on ao3 || read under the cut || 4k, rated m

summary:

"Would it be okay if we just sat here?" Shayne asks quietly, the exhale of his speech warm on Damien's shirt. Damien scratches over Shayne's scalp and it's like his best friend turns to liquid in his lap. Damien grins. "We can sit here as long as you want." || Or, Shayne's tired after a workout and it leads to a conversation that's been a long time coming.

It's not like they ever plan on doing stuff like this. This happens every time they're both single, every time neither of them have seen their families in a while, every time one of them needs and the other can provide. Damien unlocks the door of Shayne's apartment without a bit of pause. Shayne is at the gym at this time most days, so Damien isn't exactly surprised to find the flat empty. He smiles at the two stacks of video games already set up on the coffee table, the groups divided by whether the game is multiplayer or single player, all ten of them games they both enjoy. His boy knows him too well. They hadn't even discussed hanging out today. 

He's been combing through the snacks in the kitchen for about five minutes when he hears the door being unlocked once again, cracking a smile as he closes the cabinet he was rifling through. 

"Hey man, let me get a quick shower and we can game?" Shayne calls from the living room. Damien makes an affirmative sound and begins transferring the snacks he had collected to the coffee table, barely aware of the sound of the bathroom door shutting behind his friend. Despite the fact that Shayne still shops like he and Damien live together, most of what Damien's grabbed are Shayne's favorites- the guy's always starving after working out, and if Damien gets him snacks now, he won't have to hear about it. Not that he even really minds when Shayne does complain. 

That was honestly the first thing that made Damien think that maybe his relationship with Shayne was different from all of his other relationships, that maybe this is what people are talking about when they say they have a best friend. It's not that he doesn't know who he would be if he didn't have Shayne. It's that he doesn't know that he became himself til loving Shayne shaped who he is. Who would he be without Shayne's hand over the gearshift, laughter ringing in their ears nearly an hour after the joke had been told, Shayne's smiling face colored pretty by the pink of the setting sun? 

He grabs Shayne a bottle of water. He heaves out a breath. He sits on the couch. 

He doesn't know how much time he's lost writing a sketch in his head before Shayne walks out of the bathroom, steam rolling out after him like some early aughts Old Spice commercial. Damien can't help but grin at him; Shayne throws the towel he'd been rubbing through his hair at Damien's head. Damien catches it, throwing it back faster than Shayne is apparently prepared for, as it strikes him directly in the chest rather than being caught in his hands. Despite being the one to throw it first, Shayne seems a little out of sorts. He's got that look to him that he gets after live streams sometimes, the one that's half tired and half overwhelmed, though the look is mellowed some by the comfort of being in his own home. Still, Damien leans back against the side of the couch and pulls his legs up as well. He's not even entirely settled, arms wide to hold his best friend and knees apart to accommodate him, before Shayne is diving into his lap, arms wrapped around Damien's waist, face rubbing into the other man's chest affectionately. Like a fucking cat.

A chuckle punches its way out of Damien's chest at the sight. "You alright there, bud?" he asks, settling back into the arm of the couch and running his hand over Shayne's hair. Shayne hums.

"I like being close to you. You’re warm," he says simply, as if that's all there is to it, like being with Damien is the easiest thing in the world. Damien knows it isn't. The way that Shayne has always disagreed with him on that still makes him feel warm after this many years together. No matter how much time he spends with his best friend, he doesn't know that it will ever feel like enough. Sometimes the sheer luck of meeting Shayne, of being on the same set as him at the same time, it hits Damien in the chest. On a universal level, he was so close to never having this. He holds onto Shayne a little tighter just because he can. Shayne hums again, pressing in and nuzzling his face into Damien's chest.

"You wanna play something or you just wanna sit here, baby boy?" Damien asks, his tone making it clear that he doesn't mind either way, even if the words aren't so clear. Shayne makes a noise of protest and starts pushing himself up, but Damien keeps him settled in the cradle of his hips with a gentle hand; it's obvious from his face and posture that Shayne is only trying to remove himself because that's what he thinks he's supposed to want to do. Damien runs his fingers through Shayne's hair, making the other man relax against him nearly instantaneously.

"Would it be okay if we just sat here?" Shayne asks quietly, the exhale of his speech warm on Damien's shirt. Damien scratches over Shayne's scalp and it's like his best friend turns to liquid in his lap. Damien grins.

"We can sit here as long as you want," he says, sliding down a little bit more so that Shayne's face is against his throat and they're settled chest to chest. He pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch, spreading it over Shayne's back.

"Thank you," Shayne murmurs. His mouth is right against Damien's throat, his breath warm and the vibration of his speech something Damien didn't know he found comforting. He should know, as many times as they've done this.

"Any time, bud. You know that," Damien reminds him, pressing a kiss to the side of Shayne's head. That's not new either, a long time habit from when they were so much younger and so much more scared, broke as fuck all the time and never knowing what the fuck to do about it. Shayne tilts his head up to brush a kiss against Damien's jaw, settling back down quickly. If Damien didn't know to look for it, he might miss the proliferation of rose spreading across Shayne's ears. But he does know to look for it. And seeing it always warms him from the inside out. The idea that he can still make Shayne blush is one he'll always be grateful for, and maybe a little winded that he can. He loves this boy so much.

They don't talk for the next little while; Damien couldn't even hazard a guess of how long, his phone left abandoned on the coffee table and his watch missing entirely. He doesn't always put on everything when he's just coming over to Shayne's, leaving off accessories at random just because Shayne is one of the only people in the world that Damien doesn't feel like he has to present himself well around. Sure, he gives some of his best to Shayne, but Shayne has also been the person to handle a lot of his worst, to hold him after breakups and reassure him when he's scared and all of the bullshit that comes with being just a little bit too codependent with your best friend. Damien brushes another kiss on the crown of Shayne's head just for thinking of it. Boredom doesn't pick at him in this quiet place with Shayne as it typically would. The weight against his chest, the warmth of another body, Shayne, it's all very calming.

"I love you, you know," Shayne says quietly, virtually apropos of nothing. Damien hums, rubbing his hand up and down Shayne's back.

"I know, baby boy. I love you too," he replies, natural and easy. Shayne lays a kiss down on Damien's shoulder.

"I mean it," he stresses. Damien raises an eyebrow even if Shayne can't see it, his hand moving from Shayne's back to the back of his head, gentle as he pulls Shayne up to look at him, pushing back to sit up a little himself. Shayne reluctantly moves to support himself so that he can make eye contact. Seeing the question in his gaze, Shayne sighs. "You're my person," he whispers, looking at Damien with so much emotion that Damien has no idea how to pick through it. Instead of trying, he cups Shayne's jaw.

"You're my person, too, Shayne. No one I trust more than you," he assures. It doesn't seem as if this was the response Shayne was looking for, his head listing into Damien's palm and his lips pursed. Damien raises his eyebrow again, asking Shayne to elaborate without asking aloud. Shayne kisses his palm before resettling into his grasp.

"You're my best friend and it still never feels like enough," he says quietly, no longer making eye contact with Damien. A hard feeling settles in Damien's chest, the easy happiness of a moment ago draining from him. Not enough is something that Damien has heard before. It's never been a good thing.

"Did I do something?" he asks, unable to keep the shake out of his voice. Shayne's eyes snap to his and then go soft; immediately, he gets his knees more steadily beneath himself so that he can reach up and cup the back of Damien's head, careful fingers tangled in his hair. Unable to make himself think any better of it, Damien catches his hands on the backs of Shayne's thighs and pulls, shifting Shayne to have his knees spread across Damien's lap. Immediately, there's relief in every place they touch. Reassurance. Peace. Shayne is smiling at him. He looks fucking beautiful.

"Move back in with me." Shayne drops this suddenly, his gaze still soft where Damien can practically feel it against his skin, and it sends Damien blinking in surprise. Of all of the things he might have thought Shayne would say, that wasn't one of them.

"Beg pardon?" he asks. Shayne's smile falls.

"It's- it's just an idea," Shayne says, looking away from Damien and looking like he wants to disappear in his own apartment and Damien can't have that.

"Shayne, you live in a one bedroom apartment," he says gently, putting it ahead of any of the other protests knocking in the back of his mind, addressing the most practical first. Shayne tries again to push himself up and out of Damien's lap, but he's still doing that thing he does. Sometimes, typically when he's showing any emotion at all instead of handling the emotions of most everyone around him, Shayne tries to recede back into himself. He'll pull in all of his tells and shut Damien out and it's so fucking frustrating, not because Damien doesn't want to do the work of loving his best friend, but because Shayne thinks he has to. Because Shayne thinks this is what everyone else wants from him. For him to be easy. Damien has only ever wanted Shayne. Not so interested in easy. He keeps his hands on Shayne's thighs and Shayne isn't trying particularly hard, so in Damien's lap he stays.

"I miss you," Shayne mumbles nonsensically. After a moment, though, it makes a lot of sense to Damien, honestly. He misses those early mornings with Shayne, the nights when Shayne would climb into bed with him just because they were still talking, the reassurance of knowing that no matter what kind of day he had, he'd be coming home to Shayne fucking Topp. Damien lifts one of his hands and holds it to Shayne's chest, fingers brushing his collarbones through his shirt. Shayne looks at him with far too much melancholy for a face like that.

"How about when both of our leases are up? Mark can find a new roommate, you and me can find a two bedroom, we'll live together again, yeah?" he suggests, surprised then when Shayne's expression twists before he catches himself, smoothing it out into a smile. "No, no, I saw that. What's up, Shayne?" he asks, patient and even. Shayne closes his eyes.

"It's stupid," he says. Damien hums, encouraging him to elaborate. Shayne sighs. "I don't want a two bedroom apartment." When he opens his eyes, Damien tilts his head at him, confused.

"Come on, man, you know I don't really get the whole beating around the bush thing. We've gotten as far as you want to live together again, but I don't know what that part means. Tell me what the problem is." He moves the hand on Shayne's chest over to his side, thumb stroking over his oblique. With a deep breath, Shayne seems to steel himself.

"I haven't been sleeping well lately," he says, the words falling out of his mouth like they're the beginning of something, but Shayne pauses once they've hit the air. Damien nods, silently imploring him to continue. "Best sleep I've had in months was when we were sharing that hotel room in Vegas." His voice is thin, and it only takes Damien a second to figure out why. Their room had been scheduled incorrectly in Vegas. Technically, anybody in their party could have shared the room with one bed and let them have one of the rooms with two, but it was the room Damien and Shayne had been given and they hadn't made any sort of fuss about it. He'd woken up with Shayne beautifully sleepsoft, tucked comfortably into his chest all three days they were in that hotel.

"You want to move in together, and you want to share a bed," Damien says; Shayne's face colors a deep red, but he nods in confirmation. A smile creeps its way onto Damien's face. "I guess we're about to have a lot of sleepovers til my lease is up, yeah?" he asks, watching with delight as Shayne's expression goes from that melancholic fear to overwhelmingly pleased. Impulse control completely with the fucking wind, Damien leans up and kisses his best friend on the mouth. Like that's a good idea. He doesn't even realize that Shayne is kinda kissing him back before he reels backwards, putting space between their faces even if they're still touching more than they're not. Shayne makes a soft noise, quiet protest clear as he tugs Damien back into another kiss, harder but no less full of care. He's delicate with the way he holds Damien's face in both hands, his movements deliberate as he tries to tell Damien through touch alone that he wants this too. That this is all he wants.

"Dames," Shayne breathes out against his mouth. Damien leans up to catch him in another kiss. For this being the first time they've done this, it's the easiest this has ever been for Damien, the most comfortable, the only first kisses he's ever had that didn't feel like a hostage negotiation he was having with his brain to wrest enjoyment from the clutches of discomfort. Of course he's comfortable. It's Shayne. There's not a more comfortable place in the world for Damien's hands than on Shayne's skin, no more comfortable weight in his lap than Shayne's warm body. Damien pulls back again and this time Shayne lets him, makes no move to stop him from burying his face in Shayne's shoulder, breathing out his overwhelm as best as he can. His heart is fucking pounding. Still, he can't help grinning when he lifts his head to look at Shayne. It's Shayne. Loving him is the easiest thing he's ever done.

"Are we doing this?" he asks, smile coloring his words with fondness more overtly than he's ever allowed himself to display. Shayne's grin is confident, but when he speaks, his voice is quiet.

"Please," he says, broad hands warm on Damien's face, and this is it. It is different. His relationship with Shayne is different because he fucking loves him, not just the barrage of platonic affection that has bowled him over for nearly half his life, he loves Shayne like cracking his chest open and letting the other man stick his hand in. In that moment, it needs to be said again.

"I love you," he says, turning his head to press a kiss against one of Shayne's palms. At that, Shayne climbs out of his lap. Not expecting the movement, Damien makes no protest, instead raising an eyebrow at Shayne once he's on his own two feet.

"I'm in love with you. I also want to be in bed with you," Shayne says, pulling him up by the hand. Knowing it's not what he means, Damien leers suggestively anyway.

"Very forward, baby boy. Here I thought you were gonna treat me like a gentleman," he teases. Shayne huffs out a laugh and looks down at his socked feet, smiling at the floor.

"Not what I meant, you asshole. I mean- we can do that at whatever pace, like, works for us? But I want-" Shayne cuts himself off, that deep red taking over his face once again, trailing down his neck. Damien knows exactly how far that blush goes, but that doesn't mean he's not thinking about it still. He wants to taste the heat on Shayne's skin. He wants to hold Shayne so he'll sleep well. He leans further into Shayne's space, not quite close enough to kiss but close enough it definitely wouldn't be hard.

"What do you want, Shayne?" he asks, the rasp of his voice sending a visual shiver down Shayne's spine. He leans his forehead against Damien's shoulder.

"I want you to hold me," he whispers, less like he's afraid to say it and more like he's afraid to break this moment. Damien nods, grabbing Shayne by the hand.

"I can do that."

He leads Shayne by the hand to his own bedroom, strips him of his shirt gently, and then of his sweats, even getting Shayne to pick up his feet so that Damien can take of his socks for him, and suddenly he realizes that none of this is new so far. Well, the kissing, that's new. But holding Shayne's hand? Leading him to his own room? Undressing him? He remembers late nights in their shared space, Shayne's tired eyes strained from practice script after practice script, his energy scraped thin. Damien would take his hand then, get him comfortable, tuck him in. Stay if Shayne grabbed for him, which he almost always did. Damien never minded. Divesting himself of his own clothing, Damien has to ignore the way that Shayne's eyes roam over his chest, his stomach, his boxers. He never thought when they were younger that Shayne would ever look at him like this. Looking retrospectively at all of this, he can't imagine he would have done anything differently if he knew then what he knows now. Who knows how long he and Shayne would have lasted if they'd jumped into this young and unsettled? He wouldn't do it any other way.

The chief sound of the two of them getting settled into bed together is laughter; they've never been able to share a bed without getting into some kind of wrestling match. Staring down at Shayne's pretty face with his best friend on his back underneath him, it strikes Damien that perhaps that wasn't always as platonic as it had felt. He leans down to kiss Shayne again, but they end up having to pull away given that they're both still laughing. His heart feels fit to fucking burst. Just looking at Shayne makes something catch in Damien's chest. Fuck, he loves him. Fuck. Shayne pulls Damien down on top of himself, knocking the breath out of Damien in the form of a surprised bark of a laugh. Grinning against his temple, Shayne runs his hands along Damien's back with eager hands, digging in his fingers in a way that feels good, and Damien groans.

"God, magic hands," he mumbles into Shayne's collarbone. The rumble of Shayne's laugh beneath him is probably one of the best things in the world. Right after Shayne's fucking magic hands, his wide fingertips digging into the knots in Damien's back, slight ache of it smoothed out by his broad palms. He's always liked Shayne's hands though. The feel of them, the weight of them, the look of them, the blunts of his nails, the scar between two of his fingers he got breaking a glass when he was thirteen. There's so much story in those hands. So much story in this boy. He kisses his way along Shayne's collarbone, not with any heat really, but just to move his lips across Shayne's skin. One of Shayne's hands moves up from Damien's back, clutching at but not pulling Damien's hair as he guides him up to look at him.

"I love you," he says again, voice laced with awe like he's lucky just to be able to say it, to be able to love Damien aloud. He gets halfway up on his knees between Shayne's thighs, making them fall a little wider to accommodate him. With the way Shayne is looking up at him, he doesn't think he minds.

"I love you so much." With that, Damien dips down and connects their lips. Shayne is pliable under him, soft skin and hard muscle both giving way to being manipulated by Damien's whims. His hands are hungry as he grabs at Shayne, nails skating across the other man's skin. He doesn't know what it would be like to love Shayne without a certain degree of violence. His love for him has never gone quietly, never been something that Damien could pack away into boxes like everything else, reduce the clutter of his mind and move on with his life. Instead, he built the whole world around him, the chaotic life of a performer in Los Angeles moored by the touchstone that is Shayne Topp. Things, in a lot of ways, make a lot more sense with Shayne's tongue in his mouth. Like, at least now he knows why he never really liked any of Shayne's exes. Just thinking of it makes Damien pull away from Shayne's mouth, laughing into his best friend's shoulder. Is that still what he calls Shayne? They should probably talk about that.

"You gonna share with the class?" Shayne asks, teasing in his tone as he nuzzles his face into Damien's hair. Damien kisses the junction of Shayne's throat and shoulder.

"I guess this kinda clears up why I never liked any of your exes," he says wryly, delighting in the bark of Shayne's laughter that immediately follows.

"I mean, yeah." He could have said anything, really, for as much as Damien is paying any mind to it- Shayne has freckles on his shoulders that Damien has always wanted to count, maybe in the back of his mind somewhere always wanted to kiss, and the opportunity begets compulsion. 

He traces feather-light kisses from one to the next, counting in his head with his mouth otherwise occupied. When he gets down Shayne's chest someways, he gets a giggle out of Shayne kissing one a few inches below where his armpit hair stops. When he gets to one not far from Shayne's nipple, the touch of his lips brings a gasp out of him. Another compulsion begotten by opportunity, Damien touches his mouth next to that nipple, already pebbled beneath the contact. Not wanting to take things too quickly, he abandons the journey down the route of Shayne's freckles, instead pressing kisses on his way up til he meets again with Shayne's mouth. He just brushes him with a kiss then, rolling off of Shayne and onto his back. Shayne tilts his head in question.

"How do you want to be held?" Damien asks, reminding Shayne of why they had moved to the bedroom in the first place. Half hard in his boxers, Shayne takes the pivot with admirable grace, still grinning as he pushes his way against Damien's chest.

"Like this," he says, tangling their legs together and nudging Damien until he puts his arms around Shayne's shoulders. His grip on Damien's waist is nothing to joke about either, his hands splayed possessively across Damien's lower back. Damien presses a kiss to the side of his head.

"I can do that."