#those was supposed to be only doodles warm-up

[orayart]

[gyuwoncheol]

Sir, Please.

Pair: Wonwoo x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.

Warnings: Dom!Wonwoo, Sir! kink, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), squirting, clitoral stimulation, lots of making out, creampie, pussy slapping (like once), overstimulation, dacryphilia, breast play, wrist pinning, dirty talk, use of pet names (Sir, good girl, darling, love, baby, sweetie), glorious aftercare (Wonu is the best), fluff. Please let me know if i missed something. Not proofread, might come back to fix up errors.

WC: 3k

Author’s note: First smut piece for Wonwoo my love. This was only supposed to be post-sex cuddles fluff but thought it was the right time to finally write smut for my favorite boy. As is the plot of this piece, good things come to those who wait 😏 Enjoy!

Tagging fellow Wonu lovers @multi-kpop-fanfics @playmetheclassics for the chaos.

“What’re you doing?” Your boyfriend quizzed, your bare body still on top of his, a cheek resting against his bare chest.

“Doodling,” you mumbled casually as your finger continued to draw lazy patterns on his side.

“Darling, it tickles.”

“I don’t see you flinching.”

“You’re on top of me. If I flinch, you might fall.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You craned your neck to look up at him, flashing a wide grin momentarily, “then suffer.”

You shook along with Wonwoo as he laughed at your reply, a strong arm secured tightly around your torso, while his free hand cradled the back of your head.

A large smile was permanently etched on Wonwoo’s face as you both laid in comfortable silence. When he had collapsed onto you just minutes ago after reaching his climax, he had asked so nicely if he could stay inside a little longer and who were you to complain? You’ve craved for this kind of intimacy with him for awhile now after being both so busy with work.

“You’re lucky i love you,” Wonwoo declared as he kissed the top of your head.

You hummed in response, trailing your fingers again on his side, nails lightly scratching on his skin, “did you just write ‘i love you too’ on my ribs?” He laughs, and you nod an affirmative.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and snuggling more into your boyfriend’s chest. Now would be a good time for time to stand still. The setting sun casted warm hues of light inside your bedroom and while the airconditioning was cold, Wonwoo was radiating just the right amount of heat to keep you from shivering.

“I’ve missed you,” you blurted out.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed this,�� another kiss was placed on top of your head, “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, resting your chin on his pecs to face him. “I wish i had more time to visit you in practice, or even just see you for lunch.”

“That’s okay, darling. We’re both just in our busy season. It will be over soon, yeah?” This time, Wonwoo’s palm was rubbing circular motions on the small of your back. “I was thinking we should go on a vacation when this all boils over.”

Your eyes grew wide, excited at your boyfriend’s suggestion, “really?”

“Yeah, maybe the countryside? Or out of the country? Where do you want?”

A blush crept up your cheeks at Wonwoo’s gesture of letting you choose, but honestly, you could’ve just stayed at your home and it would be okay. The last time you had a vacation, he made you choose the place too but this time, you didn’t really have a shortlist of destinations. You craned your neck to kiss his lips shortly, “surprise me?” You smiled shyly, “maybe somewhere peaceful and with fresh air? Anywhere as long as it’s with you is all I want, darling.”

“Okay, i’ll plan it out.” He confirmed before rolling you both over so his body hovered above yours

“Where are you going?” You pouted when he made a move to slip out of you.

“I need to clean you up, sweetie.”

You hooked a leg around his waist in retaliation, not at all ready to feel empty just yet. You attempted the most doe eyes you could muster, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes and clenching your pussy as you did so, “Don’t you wanna fuck me one more time?”

Wonwoo scoffed at your question, the corner of his lips pulling into a devious smile at your sweet tone, “can’t get enough, darling?” His voice was lower by a few octaves, enough to send a shiver through your spine and a gush of wetness in your cunt.

“N-no, sir.”

Wonwoo smirked at the nickname before doing an experimental thrust. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he simply chuckled before dragging his cock out slowly and then swiftly burying himself to the hilt, rendering you even more speechless than you were. He could feel the rhythmic spasming of your walls, causing him to grow harder and harder.

You cupped his face to bring it closer to yours, kissing him and sucking at his lower lip. Wonwoo smiles in the kiss, amused at your neediness especially when he feels you lift your hips and roll them on his.

“Eager are we?”

“Wonuuu,” you whined pathetically, clawing at his back.

“Wonu?” he questioned with a glare, pinning you to the mattress agressively, “that’s not what you called me minutes ago, darlin’”

“Well, I don’t know where he went. Maybe if you give me what I want then I’ll start calling you it again,” you smirked, dragging your nails a little more harshly on his skin making him hiss.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, only to dive into your right breast and suck harshly at the bud, eliciting a loud moan from you. He snakes his hand in between you both, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, immediately feeling you clench around his dick again.He mutters something about you being responsive but it flies over your head as he picks up his pace. The slide is much easier given your mixed cum and your new arousal so it takes him record time to hit your sweet spot. Every ridge and vein on his cock drags against your walls in a way that’s more delicious than awhile ago.

“S-sir, pl-pleaasee,” you shake, the pit of your stomach tightening as you arch your back.

“Does my darling want to cum?” The nickname sounds sickly sweet as it rolls off his tongue and it only helps you get closer to the edge.

You nod your head repetitively, chants of ‘yes’s’ and ‘oh’s’ spilling from your lips, but then Wonwoo withdraws his hand from your sensitive bud and stills inside of you, a vice grip around your body as he licks the shell of your ear, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.” The words were loud, clear and firm, in a tone you knew all too well.

“But Won—“ you cry out loud, tears forming in your eyes as you feel your climax painfully float away.

“Nuh uh,” two harsh thrusts are delivered straight to your gspot as your boyfriend hooks one of your legs on his shoulder, “Call me wrong again and I will not let you cum at all.”

“Fuuuuck,” you mewl from the way his cock rams into you with the new angle, following it up with whines at the thought of getting no release, “S-sorry, sir! ‘M sorry!”

“There it is. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo mocks, “now be my good girl and hold it out for me, yeah?”

You’re a incoherent mess as you try to obey him, but it isn’t so easy when his large cock is abusing your sore, sloppy cunt. Words of filth pair each one of his powerful thrusts.

“My dirty little whore”

“So fuckin’ needy for my cock.”

“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

“Your pussy is mine.”

“All made for me.”

You were letting out moans of pleasure as Wonwoo pounded into you mercilessly, the knot in your stomach making itself felt again.

“Fu– ah! Fuck, s-sir! Please!” You asked, but it only fell on deaf ears. Both your wrists were tightly pinned with just one of your boyfriend’s large hand above your head and his blown out pupils were looking right at you.

“Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum, please!!!” you begged shamelessly, voice shaking and legs closing in as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

“Not. Yet.” Wonwoo withdrew fully from your hole and you shrieked at the loss, your hips lifting to chase after his dick only to have it slammed down by his free hand.

“Sir!!!” You scowled, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide, anger and pain washing away yet another failed orgasm.

A proud, lopsided smirk appeared on your boyfriend’s face. He licked his bottom lip, enjoying the torture he beset on you despite his painfully hard cock.

“What?”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking, you knew that much.

“Nothing,” you cowered and blinked back your tears, erasing the anger in your face much to your dismay.

“Good girl.”

You swallowed thickly, squirming once more when Wonwoo tapped his heavy length on your pussy, coating himself with your slippery wetness— not that he needed any more of it— before purposely slapping your swollen clit with his angry red tip. The stimulation from that alone already had your toes curling and it took every fibre of your being to not just unravel right there.

You should’ve known calling him ‘sir’ would lead to this, but behind the tearful denials, you knew immense pleasure awaits.

“Siirrr, p-please! I n-need it.”

“Shhh. Patience, darling. We’ve got lots of time.” The demonic chuckle Wonwoo let out had you whimpering pitifully, your hands fighting to break free from his hold.

It seemed your boyfriend was hell bent on prolonging your agony when he simply continues to endlessly tap his shaft on your clit as he pumps himself.

Wonwoo was not usually loud in bed, save for his occasional grunts and broken groans when he falls into bliss. However, he’s decided now would be the perfect time to make matters all the more worse for you. He was being loud about it all, no holds barred. The squelching noises of his dick against your wet lips is now easily drowned out by the guttural moans Wonwoo has let slip past his mouth. You thought his dirty talk is music? Well, this was a symphony.

You had thought you wouldn’t get close this time around since he wasn’t inside you but the relentless knocks on your clit and the obnoxiously loud moans of your boyfriend have proved you wrong. Your hands balled into fists and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally fighting off the ball of pleasure in your lower abdomen.

“Look at you, fighting so hard,” Wonwoo snickers, pressing down the tip of his cock to your clit in slow circular motions, “show me how good you are yeah?”

“Yes yes yes! ‘M good! Your good girl, promise!” You were so far gone, pliant to each one of your boyfriend’s requests.

“So wet, you’re soiling the bed,” he points out the obvious, “what a fuckin’ mess.” Wonwoo saw another shiver run through you, indicating you were seconds away from release. So for the third time that day, he denies you of the very thing you crave for, letting go of your wrists and then landing a sharp smack to your pussy before completely backing away to watch you spasm and curl up into a ball of needy tears and pathetic whines.

Your head was spinning and your senses were more than heightened. The slippery feeling of your arousal between your thighs were making it harder for you to squeeze them shut and stay still. Wonwoo simply loomed over you, giving you enough time to stabilize your breathing and let your failed orgasm ebb away. He knew that if he’d put so much just as one finger on your skin, you’d cum right away. Contrary to his actions, he wanted you to cum, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you cry for it first.

“S-sirr,” you sobbed.

A gentle touch carefully landed on your calf and when you didn’t flinch away, Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, “n-need you…”

Whatever other words you had planned were swallowed by Wonwoo in a searing kiss. It was sloppy and messy, his skillful tongue darting to yours, teeth biting at your lips. You both moaned in unison when he impaled you on his cock once more.

“So big,” you groaned, initially amused at the delicious stretch until you realised, he’s had to hold off his own orgasm too.

Wonwoo gives it his all, jackhammering into you like it would be the last time. The sound of moans and skin slapping skin reverberate around the room. And then, there it is again, a coil so tight on your stomach, you fear you’re going delirious to the point of no return.

“Wo— Sir!” You quickly correct yourself, losing the least bit of dignity you had, tears drenching your cheeks, “i’m b-begging, p-please…”

The gentle kiss on your nose set a stark contrast from how his cock abused your sopping cunt, but relief finally took over you at the words whispered in your ear, “so good for me. Let go, baby. I got you.”

A strangled cry ripped out of your throat, your orgasm gloriously hitting you like a tidal wave. Wonwoo continued to talk you through it while holding down your convulsing body and slamming his hips into you, the sight of your pussy creaming his cock eventually producing broken moans from him.

“B-babe, too– ah! Too m-much!” More tears fell on your face as Wonwoo did deep snaps, his pelvic bone grinding on your clit.

“C’mon baby, m’ close. S-so close!”

Incomprehensible noises tumbled out of you when your boyfriend buried himself deep, pushing onto your sweetest spot and stilling there. Between his guttural groans, the perfect ‘O’ shape of his mouth and the thick loads of hot white cum that flooded your velvety walls, another coil snapped within you, a new round of arousal seeping out of your spent hole, except this time, much wetter and hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuuuck, darling,” Wonwoo trembled as the last of his nectar oozed out, “did I just make you squirt?”

“Fuck off,” you scowled, wishing you had more energy to wipe the smug look plastered on your boyfriend’s face.

“So I did?” Wonwoo pursed his lips and scrunched his nose, a look you very much love but absolutely hate right now.

You let your bottom lip jut out in a pout, your brows drawing to the center of your face, “how could I not when you edged me like that!”

“You’re cute,” was his only response, very slowly slipping his softening cock out of you. Your sweet boyfriend peppered kisses all over your face, replacing your frown with a smile. “Did I make you feel good, darling?” He asked genuinely, not wanting to ever subject you to something which you didn’t enjoy doing.

You gave him a shy nod, pulling him closer by his neck to close the gap between your mouths and share a loving kiss, much like how it was way earlier. It didn’t take long for you to part, your lungs still recharging to full capacity after having all the air knocked out of you.

Wonwoo gave you more time to recover, resting his head on the crook of your neck to leave soft kisses on your skin, especially on the blooming bruises he left in his wake.

“Darling, you can’t sleep yet,” he shook you gently when he noticed your prolonged stillness.

A small whine escaped your lips, “but Woo… i’m tired.”

“I know, i know,” he hushed softly, “but we need to get you cleaned up and also, change the sheets. I’ll make it quick.”

You had no time nor energy to protest. You were simply being carried bridal style into the bathroom, your boyfriend making sure you peed before he went on to wash up yours and his sweaty body with warm water. He was so so tender with his touch, especially in all parts between your legs. He’d keep an observant eye to every reaction your face made, careful not to cause any pain.

“Can… can you be mine?” you squeaked, and Wonwoo giggled at the drunken look of love on your face. Every time you think nothing can top sex with your boyfriend in your own little list of World’s Most Wonderful Things, you’re reminded that aftercare by him exists.

“Darling, i’m already yours,” Wonwoo chuckles.

You noded with a grin, brain really starting to drift off into slumber, “I like that.”

He fixes his glasses by the bridge of his nose after giving you a once-over, now dressed in cotton panties and one of his large navy blue shirts which hung mid-thigh on you.

Wonwoo lifts you up to sit on the bathroom counter before cupping your cheeks to meet your eyes, “baby, can you sit here and wait for me for about 10 to 15 minutes, please? I need to change our sheets.”

He had expected you to whine and retaliate, knowing you were always extra clingy after sex, but you simply nodded and smiled. You think you felt his lips on your forehead but you aren’t too sure.

The moment Wonwoo slips out of the bathroom, you’re fighting not to fall asleep, but 15 minutes is long, and maybe you can just lean your head a bit on the cold marble tile—

“Let’s get you to bed, love,” the tall man chuckles as he lifts you in his arms. You swore it hadn’t been fifteen minutes, not even ten! But then he walks past your bed and out of your shared bedroom. The light of the hallway enough to stir your brain awake.

“Where are we going?” You ask, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as he cradles you into another room.

Wonwoo laughs at your question, “We have to take the guest bedroom for the night, darling. You’ve soaked through our mattress.”

[bri-cheeses]

| May 12th | Prompt: Kiss | Word Count: 827 | @rosekillermicrofic |

“Barty,” Evan whined, stretching a hand up to where Barty was dangling Evan’s notebook over his head, “give it back!”

Barty grinned and raised the notebook higher. “Why d’you want it so much? Got something in here you don’t want me to see?”

The truth is, Evan did have something in there he didn’t want Barty to see—countless sketches of quick green eyes, a slim nose, a devilish grin, and beautiful brown hair. Which, of course, all came together to form drawings of the boy in front of him, who could open the notebook at any time and see those mortifying doodles.

So, he did one of the things he did best.

“No,” Evan lied. It came out only slightly unconvincing.

“You know what?” Barty’s thoughtful tone of voice caused Evan’s stomach to sink. “I think that you do have something in here you don’t want me to see.”

Evan sucked in a breath. “Barty.” His voice was low and dangerous. “I swear to Merlin, if you don’t give me that notebook right now—”

“Alright, alright, relax,” Barty laughed. Evan had always loved his laugh, but he wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make him feel slightly nervous at this specific moment in time.

“I propose a trade,” continued Barty. “You give me something, and I’ll give the notebook back.”

Narrowing his eyes at him, Evan gave Barty an assessing look. It was very likely he was telling the truth and that he really would give Evan’s notebook back, but it was almost as equally likely that he wouldn’t. So Evan considered the risk, weighing both options in his head, then made his decision.

“What would I have to give you in return?” He asked.

Barty’s eyes gleamed.

“You’d have to give me…” he paused, ever the one for dramatics, “….a kiss.”

Evan felt his eyes widen, and he felt the need to check if his ears were working properly. “Sorry?”

“I said, you’d have to give me a kiss.”

“And—” Evan paused, “and why would you want me to give you a kiss?”

Barty’s expression grew more serious. The way he held eye contact with him made Evan blush, a rush of heat warming his face.

“I think you know why,” Barty said. His voice was intense and filled the space between them easily. Evan blushed harder.

“Then I suppose… that I would like that trade.” Evan winced at his words; he sounded like an idiot. But, after all, he was an idiot—just a love-struck one.

Barty’s grin returned and he swayed forward slightly, arm lowering the notebook. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Good question. What was Evan waiting for? Barty was here, right in front of him, and he wanted a kiss from Evan.

So Evan grabbed the collar of Barty’s shirt and tugged him forward, bringing his mouth down to his own.

Barty’s lips were soft and demanding as he stretched out his hands to grab Evan’s waist, then pulled his body towards his own. His strong grip caused an explosion of uninvited butterflies in Evan’s stomach.

Evan reached up a hand and threaded it through Barty’s hair, gasping against his lips. His eyes were closed, but he could feel Barty’s desire in the way that he kissed—hard, explorative, and all-consuming.

Evan could’ve stayed there for hours, but they inevitably broke apart from one another some time later.

But Evan didn’t open his eyes, instead choosing to lean his forehead against Barty’s for several seconds afterwards. He had the worst feeling that this would all turn out to be some cruel joke Barty had decided to play, just to see how things would turn out. Evan was afraid that if he opened his eyes, everything would simply slip away, the way dreams did after waking up in the morning.

“Evan,” Barty whispered. His mouth was still close enough to Evan’s that he could feel him speaking. “Look at me.”

Despite his apprehension, Evan lifted his head and opened his eyes shyly.

Barty’s beautiful face greeted him, his expression wrought with wonder. He looked slightly dazed, too, and Evan realized with no small amount of pleasure that Barty was still clinging to him tightly.

“Bee,” he breathed, looking into Barty’s eyes.

Barty seemed to share the unspoken sentiment and his mouth curved into a soft smile.

“I’ve been waiting ages to do that,” Barty confessed.

Evan mirrored his smile, an intense feeling of joy spreading out from his middle and to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Me too,” he said. Then he added playfully, “We should do that more often.”

Barty huffed a small laugh and, using his convenient hand placement on Evan’s hips, tugged him forward until their chests were a hairbreadth from touching.

“I think,” he said lowly, lowering his mouth until he was murmuring against Evan’s lips, “that you are correct.”

And then he crashed their lips together once more, clearly eager to start testing Evan’s theory.

[giamee]

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )

even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side

requested by @/anon

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.

the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.

it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.

he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.

and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.

he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).

despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.

you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.

a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.

you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.

you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.

for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.

for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.

in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.

and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.

as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.

it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.

it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.

you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.

he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.

and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[munsonsmixtapes]

Teach Me

Part Two Part Three

Steve x bi!fem!reader

Word count: 10,887

Summary: Steve teaches you about dating and in return, you teach him how to really please a woman in the bedroom.

CW: reader has a rough home life, mention of abuse, Eddie and reader are friends with benefits

Part One: The Agreement

Steve had always considered himself a romantic. Seeing his parents together really made him believe in love. The way they would hold hands in the car or at the table when they went out to eat. He loved romance movies and the warm and fuzzy feeling they gave him, hoping that he would find his own love.

He had thought he had it with Nancy, but that obviously didn’t work out. He could still remember their exact conversation before they ended things. She had called him “bullshit” then moved on to Jonathan pretty quickly after that. He didn’t know why he had been thinking about it so many years later. He was over her. At least, that was what he was telling himself.

He knew that the woman for him was out there even if he had to look hard. If he was honest, he had wanted to start something with you. He had been infatuated with you since Eddie had introduced you to the group all those months ago, but he didn’t think he was your type.

“Earth to Steve,” Robin waved her hand in front of his face as they stood in front of the diner that had finally replaced Benny’s.

“Sorry, what?” He turned to her, giving her his full attention again.

“I was asking what you were going to get this time.” The two of them had been plenty of times since the place had opened and were trying to eat everything on the menu. “Thinking about y/n, hm?”

The pair stepped inside and Steve was mesmerized by the bright colors and decor just like always. The whole place had the theme of a classic fifties diner and the floor was a black and white checkered pattern that was so clean that he swore he could see his reflection in it. There were red stools at the bar that seemed to be popular among customers and plenty of empty vinyl booths that were the same color. Waiters and waitresses whizzed by him on roller skates, all either holding trays of food or notepads to scribble down orders.

“No, I was-“

He cut himself off when he noticed you by the jukebox, sitting on the counter and doodling in the notepad you were supposed to be using for orders. He couldn’t help but stare like he did any time he saw you. You had been the only reason why Steve had even agreed to come. He’d go anywhere you were. He had a crush on you ever since you had been introduced to the group and everyone knew because of how obvious he was about it. Everyone but you, of course.

“Uh huh, sure. C’mon,” Robin pulled Steve over to the table where the hostess was leading them to but his eyes were still glued to you.

He was so engrossed in looking for something from the menu that he’d want to order that he didn’t even see you stroll up to the table. Robin had called his name multiple times and when that didn’t work, she kicked his shin under the table.

“Ow, what the hell,” he snapped his head to the girl across from him who nodded her head towards you. Your pretty eyes locked on him and his mouth went dry.

“Hi,” you chuckled at his reaction and he didn’t even care that you were laughing at him, he just liked hearing the sound. “I’m y/n and I’ll be your server today.” You didn’t like the idea of introducing yourself to people you already knew, but you couldn’t risk your manager writing you up again.

“What can I get you started with to drink,” you asked in the tone of voice you used with customers and Steve thought it was weird to see you so bubbly. In the many times they had eaten there, this had only been the second time they had been seated in your section.

“We’re ready to order if that’s okay,” he replied.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

Steve wasn’t your type. He was the kind of guy you’d bring home to your mother and you were more into guys you had to sneak through your window because your parents didn’t approve of them. But that still didn’t stop you from flirting with him or giving him nicknames that you were sure would make him blush.

“I’ll uh-“ he cut himself off. “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger.”

“That’s a great choice,” you nodded as he handed you his menu. “And for you,” you turned to Robin

“I’ll have the same. And a chocolate shake,” she gave the boy a knowing look, a joke just between the two of them.

“I’ll have that right out for you.” You turned to head to kitchen and Steve didn’t miss that you weren’t wearing skates like the other servers. He watched you until you disappeared behind the door then turned back to Robin who was writing in a small notebook. He grabbed it from her and wished he hadn’t when he saw what was on the page. There was a line down the middle with the words “you rule” on the left and “you suck” on the right. He pushed it back towards her, his mood turning sour.

“You made a portable version?” He hated that stupid game, especially because it was at his expense. He knew he wasn’t doing too hot as far as dating went, he didn’t need to see the proof on paper.

“I sure did.” Robin pulled the notebook back and Steve watched what was she was doing, knowing what column she was adding to but wanted to see for himself.

“Are you putting a tally under the ‘you suck’ column,” he asked in offense. That had to be a new record of how quick she was to do it.

“Yep,” she nodded as she closed the book and put it back in her purse. “I’m saving time. Even though I already gave you one when you first flirted with her.”

“I haven’t even asked her out yet so how do you know that I suck?” He couldn’t believe it. Was that really what it was coming to? Had King Steve finally lost his crown?

“Did you see the way she laughed at you? Sorry, but you can’t come back from that. She totally went back there to tell all the people in the kitchen and they’re all for sure laughing at you right now.”

“You’re mean,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you’re a dingus. You know, now that I think about it, I actually think you might be able to turn it around. With my help at least. You’re kinda hopeless at this point.” He wanted to correct her, but he knew she was right.

“Gee, thanks, Rob,” he rolled his eyes. “Y/n would never laugh at me.”

“Maybe not to your face. Look, I can hype you up.” Steve knew she could, but was afraid that she would somehow end up revealing something embarrassing about him. She tended to babble so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, especially considering that she had already told you that most of Steve’s friend group was a bunch of teenagers out of context. How could she tell you the real reason when they were all bonded together by trauma from getting sucked into an alternate dimension multiple times? Who was going to believe that?

“I don’t think that’s going to work. Like you said, I’m hopeless.” Robin couldn’t believe that he was already giving up. He was the kind to at least try before he threw in the towel.

“Look, just leave it to me to save your ass once again.”

You exited the kitchen with a tray that carried the pair’s order and headed their way. Steve knew that it wasn’t exactly impressive for a server to be able to carry a tray with one hand, but damn was he mesmerized by the way you did it. The way you were able to dodge everyone in your way without spilling a single drop of Robin’s shake.

You headed their way with a bright smile and Steve was going to tell himself that it was for him specifically and totally not because it was your job to be nice to them.

You set the tray down on the table and Steve couldn’t help but focus on your close proximity. Your uniform was unzipped just enough to where he could see your cleavage and because he was a gentleman, he was trying his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“Here are your burgers,” you set the plates in front of them and grabbed Robin’s shake then set it next to her plate. “And your shake. Can I get you anything else?”

“Actually,” Robin turned her attention to you. “Can we get some ketchup?” You stepped over to the empty table beside them and grabbed the bottle before setting it in the middle of their plates.

“Will that be all?” You actually didn’t mind that Robin kept asking for things. It kept you busy in the lull before the dinner rush.

“I would also like a straw.” Steve knew what Robin was doing and he hated her for it. Could she be anymore obvious?

“Here you go,” you reached into the pocket on your apron and pulled out a straw before handing it to her. As you were doing so, you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder. You turned to your left to see a ringed hand that was attached to the familiar metal head. He was looking at you with a sweet smile and Steve didn’t miss the undeniable connection between the two of you.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t found someone who wasn’t a complete asshole, but you were beginning to think love was a scam. Because who in their right mind would willingly get into a relationship completely unaware if it would last or not? To you, the only way to avoid any type of heartbreak was to be single. You could definitely have your fun, but as soon as feelings were involved, you’d shut down the whole operation and move on to the next person.

That was why your whole thing with Eddie worked. It was a relationship without all the “feelings” bullshit. You could hangout with him outside of the bedroom and would actually enjoy yourself. You’d watch a movie together and he wouldn’t expect you to cuddle with him. Or he’d come over to hookup and bring some weed free of charge just because and not expect anything in return. You had an unexplainable bond and after all the shit you went through, you definitely deserved to have him in your life.

“Hey, l/n,” he greeted with his signature smile. “Miss me?” His hand squeezed your shoulder before letting go. He stood beside you and Steve didn’t miss the way you looked at each other. That wasn’t the way friends looked at each other, was it?

“Hey, Eds,” you smiled back. “Your table’s all ready if you wanna take a seat. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“You take your time, sweetheart. I don’t mind waiting,” he winked before heading over to his usual table and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful for him leaving. He was jealous of what you had with Eddie even if you weren’t actually dating.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You asked making sure they didn’t need another thing before you headed over to take care of Eddie.

“I think that’s it,” Robin nodded, taking a sip from her milkshake. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you nodded back. “If you need anything else, let me know,” you smiled brightly then headed over to Eddie’s table.

He was looking over the menu even though you both knew exactly what he wanted; a plain cheeseburger and a Coke. He set the menu back on the table and looked up at you with him pretty brown eyes. He gave you his signature smile and you knew exactly why people were interested in him. He always knew exactly what to say to get into people’s pants and you admired him for that. After all, everything you knew about sex was because of him.

You scribbled down Eddie’s order then headed to the kitchen to drop off the slip. You stood at the window and watched Steve from afar, hoping that he wasn’t looking at you. He was definitely the prettiest guy you had ever seen, but you’d never admit that to anyone.

You weren’t usually attracted to guys like Steve so you didn’t know what made him different. Maybe because he was nice to you unlike the other guys in town who weren’t into your style or your personality. You were too aggressive in their eyes. You had too much sexual experience. They all wanted someone sweet and innocent, two things you definitely weren’t. You didn’t care, though. You didn’t care what anyone thought about you. That wasn’t any of your business.

Once Eddie’s order was ready, you grabbed it and headed to his table, setting it down in front of him and didn’t miss how he looked at your cleavage so quickly that you might have not seen it if you hadn’t been looking directly at him. You didn’t mind, though. At least you were getting attention.

“Thanks, doll,” Eddie smiled and you beamed at the nickname. Out of all the ones he had given you, that one was definitely your favorite.

“Anything else?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “So what’s going on with you and Harrington?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Why, you jealous, Munson?” Eddie scoffed at that. What you two had was strictly casual. He couldn’t have been attracted to you romantically if he tried.

“Not even close. I’m just looking out for you.”

“You don’t need to. I can take care of myself.” Eddie knew that, but he still felt the need to protect you. He wanted to make sure that you were taken care of since you didn’t seem to have anyone looking out for you.

“You should totally go out with him.” You let out a laugh at that. Eddie had been trying to set you up with Steve for months to no avail. You could see right through it and weren’t going to fall for his bullshit.

“I’m not looking for anything, remember?” That was partially true. As much as you didn’t like the idea of being tied down, you had to admit that going to bed to the same person every night sounded really nice.

“But Steve’s cool. Well, sometimes.“

“Why do I need a boyfriend when I have you?”

“Because I can’t be your only friend, l/n. You need friends that you don’t have sex with.” You knew he was right, but you liked the idea of hanging out with just Eddie. He was the only person that truly understood you. And bringing more people into your life just made it easier for them to leave. And you weren’t going to get hurt, not this time.

“Fine, whatever.” You turned on your heel to head for the bathroom, Eddie’s words ringing in the back of your head. Maybe he was right for once. You did need more friends. You always saw Steve and Robin laughing about things together and you wanted to be part of their jokes. You just wanted to be part of something for once. You were tired of being alone.

You exited the stall and washed your hands before heading back to check on your tables. On the way out of the little hallway, you ran into a hard chest. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Steve. You’d recognize that terrible shirt and the ugly color combo of stripes that adorned it anywhere.

You looked up at him and his lips parted like he was going to say something, but he stayed silent. He just closed his mouth, his eyes widening as he did so. You could tell that you made him nervous and that was funny to you. There was nothing for him to be nervous about when it came to you. You had heard all about King Steve and his reputation with women so you were honestly surprised that you had intimidated him. You actually kind of liked it if you were being honest.

“Just couldn’t get enough of me, huh,” you joked.

“No!” His eyes got even wider and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how flustered he was. “I was just-“ he pointed to the men’s bathroom door.

“Relax, pretty boy,” you teased with a pat to his cheek. “I’m only joking.” You turned on your heel then headed back to the kitchen, not able to see Steve watching you walk away. After you were out of his sight, he entered the restroom.

You went back to check on your tables and approached Robin, who was finishing up her milkshake. You had thought about what Eddie had said about you needing new friends and decided to do something that was out of character.

“Do you have plans next Saturday?” You felt nervous asking that despite how long you had known Robin, but you had never hung out with her outside of the group, at least not like that. But you liked the idea of having a friend that was girl. You had never had one of those before.

“Except work, no. Why?” You didn’t want to answer her. There was something so vulnerable about asking someone to hang out and you hated being vulnerable. “Do you want to have a sleepover?” Her eyebrows furrowed at your question and you immediately wanted to take it back. It was unlike you to want to hang out with anyone outside of the group.

“A sleepover?” Robin could tell by your tone that it wasn’t going to be that kind of sleepover, so she agreed. She knew that you were bisexual, but you weren’t each other’s type. She liked girls who were more feminine and you were into girls who looked like you.

She also thought it would be a good idea to have a friend that was a girl. She needed more feminine energy in her life.

“Sure,” she nodded. “Sounds like fun.” You pulled your notepad out of your pocket and were actually kind of excited for the whole thing.

“What are we talking about,” Steve asked as he sat back in his side of the booth.

“I’m sleeping over at y/n’s on Saturday,” Robin told him and she could see his face falter.

“I thought we were going to finally watch that new horror movie on Saturday.” Robin had completely forgotten about that and now you felt bad that you were stealing her away from Steve.

“I totally forgot about that.” Steve looked over at you and even though you were trying really hard to hide it, he could see that you were disappointed and he didn’t want to be the reason for it.

“(Y/n), you like horror movies, right,” Robin asked, watching Steve out of the corner of her eye to see what his reaction would be to her next question.

“Love ‘em,” you answered and Steve couldn’t believe what Robin was doing. He thought he at least had some more time to prepare before she started her moves in setting the two of you up. And she wasn’t even being subtle about it. Robin was about as subtle as gun.

“You should watch the movie with us.” The old you would have come up with any excuse to say no, but this was the new you. And the new you made friends. And maybe if it went well, you could make it a regular thing.

“I’d love to.” This was going to be the year you finally did things that scared you. And that included getting close to people who weren’t Eddie.

“We’ll watch it at Steve’s since he’s got that giant TV.” Of course she was suggesting his house. Girls were always amazed about where he lived and Robin knew that. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Sounds good to me.” Steve couldn’t believe you had actually agreed. You had always denied their invitations to hang out with you and he’d be stupid to ask why you had changed your so suddenly. Whatever the reason, he was going to be grateful.

Eddie had watched the entire interaction play out and couldn’t help but be proud of you. He knew that you had been wanting to get close to Robin and Steve but had been too scared to make a move.

You brought Eddie his check and didn’t miss the smirk he had on his face. And this time he was looking at your face and not your breasts so clearly he had been up to something.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “What?”

“I saw you over there. You did so good, doll. I’m so proud. It’s my baby’s first non-sexual hangout,” he teased, grabbing your face and planting a messy-albeit gentle-kiss to it. You pushed him away in disgust.

“Ew. I hate when you get like this,” you rubbed your cheek with your hand, trying to get rid of the spit. Eddie just grinned at you.

“You didn’t hate it last night.” He winked and you felt yourself blush.

“Because that was in your bed, not in public. And you were more rough with it. You know I hate soft touches.” Eddie knew that fact all too well, all too familiar with hearing the words “harder” and “faster” coming from you in the bedroom.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.“

“Whats going on? You’re being weird, even for you.” You gave him a glare but that only made him smile wider.

“I’m not weird, I’m just a proud daddy.” Hearing that word outside of dirty talk made your skin crawl.

“Gross,” you grimaced. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he corrected.

“Sure, whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “Now pay your bill and get out.” Eddie always ended up lingering after he had already paid, wanting to spend more time there. It definitely beat staying in the trailer by himself while Wayne was at work. But you had to kick him out because your manager hated loitering.

“I love it when you’re bossy.” He left some cash on the table, making sure to give you a hefty tip and stood from the table.

Steve watched your interaction with Eddie and wanted to know if you were dating or not, but couldn’t get himself to ask. He didn’t want that information out in the open, unbeknownst to him that everyone was very well aware of his little crush on you. He wasn’t very good at hiding his jealousy and Eddie had even kicked his touches up a notch to get Steve to say something about how he felt about you, but he never did.

Robin and Steve finished their meals and you dropped off their check. You watched them walk out the door and turned to the table to some cash sitting under Robin’s empty cup so it wouldn’t blow away under the fans that had been running because of how hot it had been outside.

You headed over to their table and noticed that Steve had left a twenty dollar bill which meant that more than half had been for you. You wondered what it was like to be able to tip more than your meal had cost and not be struggling financially. You didn’t know what that was like because your family didn’t have the kind of money to even eat where you worked.

You headed outside for your smoke break as Steve’s red BMW pulled out of his parking space. You watched him pass by as you pulled your carton of cigarettes out of your apron pocket. The taste of the tobacco sounded so inviting and you just needed it to help with the chronic stress that sat on your shoulders every single day.

You went through your cluttered apron pockets to find your lighter only to grasp at crumpled receipts and empty straw wrappers. You had always put it in your apron before your shifts for that exact situation so you had wondered where it went. You tried to picture the last place you had it and suddenly remembered that you had left it at Eddie’s when you had smoked a joint together the night before.

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Eddie exited the diner, holding out a lighter to you. You took it from him and lit up, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke away from him so it wouldn’t get all in his face. You looked down the lighter and noticed your initials that you had engraved into the intricate design to signify it was yours.

“Thanks.” You fiddled with the thing in your hands, never able to stand still for so long. Whether it was the anxiety or the stress, you didn’t know.  

“Sure,” he nodded. “That one’s yours anyway. You left it at my place last night and I figured I should give it back.” Eddie grabbed the cigarette from you, putting it between his own lips before taking a drag and handing it back to you.

“Well, thanks.” You wondered just how many lighters you had lost over the last few years after sleeping with someone only to never return to their place ever again. The only thing you had missed was your leather jacket that you had left at Billy Hargrove’s. You had politely asked for it back, but he only agreed to return it if you slept with him again and there was no way in hell that was going to happen. After he had made fun of Eddie? Fat chance. He could have the jacket for all you cared.

“Sure. I’ll see you tonight?” You didn’t know why he was asking. Of course you were going to see him. You were in his bedroom practically every night.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking another drag before holding out the cigarette to him. He took it from you, his fingers brushing yours as he did so. This was so familiar to you, standing outside your place of work sharing a cigarette with your best friend. It seemed like it happened at least once every single one of your shifts. Most of the time neither of you uttered a single word, the only thing that could be heard was birds chirping or the sound of car doors slamming as people headed towards the restaurant. It was nice, one of your favorite things about working.

Eddie handed your cigarette back and fished around in his pocket for his keys. He pulled out his own cigarette carton, a couple guitar picks, and a few wadded up gum wrappers before finding what he was looking for. You wondered when he last washed his jeans, then remembered that you were the last one to do so when you took your stuff to the laundromat which had been a couple of weeks ago. You made a mental note to go back sometime in the week and take Eddie’s gross pants with you.

“See you tonight. Four, right?” That was always your plan when you were picking up extra shifts. Eddie would watch Callie while you were gone and then you’d go over to his after your shift while Wayne was still at work and you’d spend the night together, getting tangled up in Eddie’s sheets with a few smoke breaks in between. It was a perfect night in your opinion. You were able to get away from home for the night and you could forget about your shitty living situation at least for a little while. Until you began to worry about leaving your little sister alone with your parents.

Eddie was always able to help you when you started to panic. He’d take your hands in his and make you take some deep breaths to help you calm down. He’d then take you over to your own trailer to see Callie to make sure she was okay. She was always in your shared room, fast asleep in the bed that you were forced to share because your parents couldn’t afford another one.

Your parents were always fighting and it made Callie cry hearing them, so you’d do whatever what you could to distract her. Whether it was letting her listen to your walkman to block out the screams or just straight up taking her to Eddie’s, you’d find a way to shield her. No kid should have to be subjected to that or be on the receiving end of it like you had been a few times. That was why you always deemed any room that wasn’t yours off limits during those moments.

You wanted better for Callie. She was just a kid and didn’t deserve to live like that. You hated that she was growing up with the very same childhood you had experienced. You had hoped that your parents would have gotten their shit together before having another kid, but Callie had just been a product of them having makeup sex in the back of their shared beat up car.

Callie was way too young to be subjected to your parents’ toxic behavior. You, however had been used to it. Them hitting or yelling at you was something you just expected whenever you were home at the same time as them. They still hadn’t laid a finger on Callie out of anger and you vowed that if they ever had, you’d pack up all your stuff and go live with Eddie and Wayne. Wayne knew all about your living situation and had suggested you come live with him as soon as he found out about how your parents had been treating you and your sister, but you were just trying to hold out until you could get enough money to get the two of you the hell out of there.

———

You and Callie entered the trailer after you had picked her up from school and you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that your parents’ car wasn’t in its usual spot. You didn’t have it in you to deal with them. You were just so tired. You were scheduled for a shift at Family Video in an hour which only gave you enough time to make sure that Callie did her homework. Eddie would take care of the rest.

You showered and got dressed while Callie did her homework. That was the only way you were able to do anything for yourself. You had to do it while she was occupied, never truly getting an actual moment to yourself. She’d come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and ask you where you had put her favorite pencil. You hated that you got annoyed with her every now and then, but sometimes you wished you could have just five minutes of uninterrupted silence.

You came out of your room to find Callie eating the TV dinner you had fixed for her and Eddie was sitting next to her. They were both talking about the cartoon she had put on. It was one of the things they bonded over. Eddie really was just a kid at heart so it made sense why they got along so well. He didn’t have any siblings so Callie was the closest he was going to get. She had him wrapped around her little finger and she quickly found that he’d do anything she asked. Whether it was letting her braid his hair or have a tea party with him, it didn’t matter.

You loved watching their interactions. The way Eddie was so sweet to her, but talking to her in the tone that he used with everyone else. You wished that the people in town could see the way Eddie treated her so they’d stop insisting that he was an evil cult leader.

He had insisted on watching your sister even though you had assured him that you didn’t need his help. He noticed that you were always doing that; insisting that you didn’t need assistance when you were actually desperate for it. To you, asking for help meant that you were weak. You had gotten through your hardest times by yourself, so why would you admit that you needed help with the little things like finding a sitter for your sister?

“Alright,” you spoke up, standing at the back of the couch. “I’m leaving for work, so Eddie’s in charge.” Callie turned to face you, a pout on her face. As much as she loved spending time with Eddie, she always missed you when you were gone. You were her best friend. The one person who she was convinced could protect her from everything. Your parents screaming at each other, a bad dream, and the monsters that very much not under your bed. You both knew that they didn’t exist. She was just always looking for an excuse to cuddle closer to you, feeling the safest being wrapped in your arms.

Callie didn’t care if you didn’t give birth to her. In her eyes, you were her mother. You had gotten up in the night to feed her or change her diaper and you rocked her back to sleep when she stopped crying. You were there when she took her first steps, holding onto fingers until she was able to move by herself. You held her while she cried when kids were mean to her at school, telling her that they were losers and were just bored with their lives. You helped her ride your old bike without training wheels, cheering her on as she circled the little spot in front of your trailer. You had been there for every important moment in her life while she had just been an afterthought to your parents. Just another reason why they didn’t have any money and were stuck in that stupid trailer.

She gave you a long hug and you pressed a kiss to her forehead and told her to behave before you went out the front door to your car. You took a deep breath and turned on the ignition before heading out of the trailer park.

Working at Family Video was definitely your favorite out of your three jobs. The diner involved a lot of running around and working at the car repair shop was just answering phones and scheduling appointments since you didn’t have any actual experience fixing up cars. That one was very monotonous and boring doing the exact same thing every time. You liked Family Video because it was the perfect amount of work and you got along with the people you worked with. In your eyes, it was a win-win.

You put in the cassette tape that was a mix of your favorite metal songs you had made and turned the volume dial all the way up, singing along to the song. In your mind, if you had the music on really loud, it could drown out all of your thoughts so you had no choice but to get out of your head. Your brain was always working overtime with all of things you had to do. There was always another thing to add to your to do list or something else to worry about, so you tried your best to turn it off when you could.

You pulled into the parking lot and parked a little bit away from the building since Keith had gotten onto you multiple times for parking right up front. Despite not wanting to walk the few extra steps, you were too tired to argue with him. You grabbed your vest and headed into the building, finding Steve already at the counter, typing something into the computer. He turned to you when he heard the bell chime and gave you a small smile before turning back to his task.

You headed to the back room and clocked in before putting on the dreaded green vest. You wished Keith could have at least gotten vests that were a neutral color so it’d be easier to match to your outfits. Nothing went with green. You threw your purse into your locker and let out a sigh before going out onto the floor. The place was empty which was arguably worse than it being packed. If it was crowded, at least you would have something to do other than put videos away.

Steve was no longer at the counter, now putting returns back on the shelves. You rounded the counter and noticed his cart right by the romcom section. You pulled some tapes from the cart and began putting them away in their designated aisle, deciding that you were going to help him even though he always insisted that he didn’t need it. He knew of your other jobs and wanted this one to be a breeze for you. He thought you worked too hard.

Steve could hear shuffling and turned to his cart to see that some of the tapes were missing. He then looked over the aisles and saw you in the sci-fi section. You were reorganizing the tapes in alphabetical order. He noticed you doing that every time you had a shift together and wondered why it mattered to you so much when people were just going to mess it up again.

He watched you for a few more seconds then turned back to his own task. He spent too much time looking at you and really needed to cut it out. But you were just so pretty. He wanted to look at you any chance he got. He wanted to hold you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as he pressed kisses your cheek just to hear your pretty laugh. He wanted to hold your hand whenever he could, feeling your soft skin against his. He wanted to kiss you. Goddamn did he want to kiss you. He wanted to know what your pretty lips tasted like. They were like two little pillows and he needed to know if they were as soft as they looked. He knew he was pathetic pining for you like that, but he didn’t care.

You were so mysterious and he wanted to know more about you. What you liked and what you didn’t. He wanted to know every single thing about you, hearing you go on and on for hours. He knew he wouldn’t get bored because everything about you was fascinating in his eyes. You could read out the diner menu to him and he would listen, hanging onto every word. He was in deep and he didn’t even care. He didn’t care if you didn’t if you didn’t feel the same way, he’d still eat up every interaction, every flirty word that would fall from your pretty lips.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you spoke up as you approached his cart once again. It was the only thing separating you two and he thought you were too far away. You grabbed onto the top of the cart and leaned forward, getting a little too close to him for his liking. He tried to keep his cool, but you smelled so good. If he had it his way, he’d have pulled you to him and buried his face into his neck to get a better whiff.

“Not much to say,” he shrugged and turned back to the shelf to hide the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks.

“You never shut up when you’re with Robin, but you’re quiet as a mouse when you’re around me.” He wanted to tell you that it was because you intimidated him and that he was afraid that he was going to say something stupid. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He just kept quiet and tried to not think about how beautiful you were.

“Just don’t have a lot to say,” he shrugged, putting some more tapes on the shelf in front of him. That was a lie. Steve had so much to say to you, but he didn’t think that any of it was appropriate.

He wanted to tell you just how pretty he thought you were while he thrusted into you. He wanted to feel your soft body against his. He wanted to hear you moan his name over and over again while he made sweet love to you.

He was always going on dates and sleeping with women, but it never really progressed after that. He’d promise to call them then throw their numbers away only to feel guilty in the end. He hated the cycle, but he was only doing what he thought he had to.

He was only trying to get over you and he thought the only way to do that was to get under someone else. But that never worked. You were the only girl he wanted and he couldn’t have you because you were taken. It was torture watching you with Eddie. The way you touched each other in such a flirty manner, whispering things into the other’s ear.

Steve wanted to be that with you. He wanted you two to have your own inside jokes. He wanted to have his arm around your waist and press tender kisses to your temple whenever he wanted. But he couldn’t. And it was killing him. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship, if you could’ve even called it that.

“Oh,” you nodded in understanding, even though he couldn’t see you. “I get it.” You pulled away from the cart, crossing your arms over your chest. “You don’t like me.”

You loved to mess with Steve more than you liked flirting with him. He fell for it every time, completely believing your words. You thought it was hilarious considering the fact that you hadn’t even been trying.

“No!” He turned around in panic, needing to assure you that it wasn’t true. He liked you, probably loved you even. “I like you.”

“You do?” You bat your eyelashes innocently and Steve stepped closer, trying not to fall for your tricks.

“Yeah. I mean, we’re friends, right?” The word was hard to get out. He hated using it when it came to you. It burned his throat the way bile did when it climbed its way up into his mouth. It tasted horrible and bitter like burnt toast.

The word caught you off guard. Eddie was the only one you had given that title to. And here Steve was using the word so casually, like it was part of his everyday vocabulary.

“Of course we’re friends, Steve.” Technically speaking, you were friends, but the two of you didn’t really hangout outside of the group like you did with Eddie.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hang out with Steve, it was that you couldn’t. You were unsure of where things would go with the two of you. Anytime you were alone, you felt the tension and you were afraid of the things the two of you would get up to. Hanging out always led to sex and sex always led to the “what are we?” talk and you couldn’t do that again. It was always so awkward letting people down.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good.” He rolled the cart to another aisle and you followed him. You watched him put more tapes away, admiring the way his jeans hugged his hips and the way his shirt was tight against his biceps. You could see why women liked him even if you weren’t interested. He was pretty and got along with everyone. What was there to not like?

“Yeah,” you nodded. “So what did you get up to last night?” You leaned onto the cart as Steve crouched to put some videos away on the lowest shelf.

“Oh, you know. The usual,” he shrugged, trying to move quickly because being in that position was painful.

“Which is?” You leaned closer, trying to read the look on his face. He stood up quickly, his legs not being able to take the pain anymore.

“Had a girl over.” He didn’t want to say more than that. He figured that you knew what had happened without him having to spell it out for you.

“Oh?” He didn’t have to say anything else, but you wondered how much he would tell you.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“How was it?” Bad. It was bad. So much so that he couldn’t even think about it without feeling embarrassed.

“Fine.” He was lying. He couldn’t tell you the truth. The truth being that he had tried to make out with the girl only to see your face and your pretty eyes boring into his. It happened every time and it was infuriating.

“Fine?” That was never the word you wanted to hear about a date. That was always meant that it went wrong but the person didn’t want to come out and say it.

“We just didn’t have that spark, you know?” You didn’t know what he meant by that so you wanted him to explain.

“Spark?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Steve liked that he was going to be able to explain something to you and not the other way around for once.

“You know, the spark.” You had no idea what he was talking about, but knew that it was some sort of thing that was only exclusive to Steve. He was too much of a romantic sometimes.

“No.” You didn’t seem to care but Steve was still going to tell you anyway.

“It’s when you get that feeling. You just know they’re the one.” His brown eyes softened as he looked at you and all you could do was let out a laugh. It all just seemed so silly.

“How do you know?” This was the real question. How did you know when you were in love with someone?

“It’s in your gut. It’s something that you just know.” Steve had never gotten that feeling, but knew it existed and he was just waiting for it to come around.

“Huh,” you pondered. “Sounds fake.” Love was just a bunch of bullshit to you. At least romantically. You loved Callie and you loved Eddie, but that was about it.

“You’re just too cynical to ever love anyone but yourself.” Both of you knew he wasn’t trying to offend you. He was just telling the truth.

“I love Callie,” you countered and Steve only shook his head. That didn’t count in his opinion.

“You’re supposed to love your sister.” You supposed that was true, but still felt like you were right.

“I also love Eddie.” He didn’t like hearing that, but he knew what you meant.

“It’s the same thing. He’s your best friend. You’re supposed to love him. I’m talking about romance.” You hated talking about that, even with Steve. Especially with Steve. Out of the four of you, Steve definitely seemed to be the one who always wanted to talk about love and it made you uncomfortable.

“Gross,” you grimace and Steve thought it was cute seeing your features scrunched up like that.

“It’s not gross, it’s beautiful,” he corrected, giving your shoulder a nudge. You just stepped away to keep space between your bodies.

“How can you think that when you’ve never been in love?” Steve had been in love. Only once and not for very long, but it still counted.

“I was in love with Nancy.” Right, Nancy. You don’t know her as well as you knew Robin, but just from the few interactions you had with her, she seemed nice enough.

“I mean besides Nancy. That was years ago and I haven’t heard you utter another girl’s name since I’ve known you.” He could think of multiple girls off of the top of his head that he had talked about. Well, with Robin. He felt weird talking about his dates with you.

“You’ve only known me for like six months.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelf behind him. Steve didn’t think you had known him long enough to critique him.

“Yeah, and that’s been six months of jack shit, Harrington. If you want love so badly then you have to go on more than one date with a girl.” He never thought that you of all people would have given him actually good relationship advice. For someone who had never been in one, you really seemed to know what you were talking about.

“Maybe I will,” he shrugged. You both knew that he wouldn’t. He was just going to continue the cycle until he found someone.

“The girl for you is out there, Steve. You just have to look hard enough.” He was looking and the only woman that he wanted was right in front of him. He felt pathetic. He would never get you so he didn’t know why he even bothered.

“Like where? Because she’s definitely not in Hawkins. I think I’ve been out with every woman who’s interested in men in our age group.” He hadn’t been out with you, though. And he never would because you definitely weren’t interested. He thought it was better if you were just friends anyway. He liked what you two had and didn’t want to ruin it.

“Well,” you let out a sigh. “I guess you’re just destined to be alone.”

Steve wondered what made you so against love at such a young age. Usually the people who were that cynical were at least fifty years older than you. He figured it had something to do with your home life that you only mentioned a few times. You were very secretive.

Steve wasn’t going to listen to you. Love was out there and he was going to find it even if it wasn’t with you. Just because he hadn’t found someone yet didn’t mean that he was going to throw in the towel. He was going to at least give it another try before he fully gave up.

“No,” he pointed at you. “I am not stooping to your sad, cynical level.” He moved from the shelf and rounded the corner with a stack of videos and you followed him, the cart completely abandoned.

“Oh, c’mon, Steve.”

“I think maybe if you put yourself out there, you’d actually find that dating is fun,” he smiled and you gagged at his words. Pretty much anything sounded more appealing to you than that.

“You know what’s even more fun than dating,” you asked, your face lighting up and Steve was interested in what you had to say.

“What?”

“Hearing my parents yelling at each other while I hold my sister who’s sobbing. That’s more fun than dating.” He supposed he walked right into that one. He had never seen you talk nicely about anything except your sister and Eddie, but he was determined to find out what else you liked. He knew there had to be some sort of happiness deep down inside you.

“C’mon, y/n, you’re a pretty girl. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” That was a nice compliment, but it sounded generic, like it was something he’d say to just anyone. There was nothing that made it personal.

“Right, and I would be lucky just to get through this shift without you trying to convince me to put myself out there.” You took some of Steve’s tapes and put them away, wanting the conversation to be over. He only followed you, leaning against the shelf you were working on. He stared down at you, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Can you be serious for one second?”

“I am being serious, Steve,” you turned to face him. “You’re the one who’s being ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“You call that help?” You let out a laugh. You didn’t think him pointing out your flaws was considered helpful. “If you really want to help me, then why don’t you actually help me?” You leaned onto the shelf as well, setting your arm onto the top of it to hold yourself up.

“How?” His eyebrows furrowed and you thought for a moment. The first thing that came to mind was actually ridiculous.

“I don’t know, go on a date with me or something.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, his mouth falling open slightly. He never thought he’d see the day. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Hell had frozen over.

“What,” he scoffed. He didn’t believe you in the slightest. You had to be joking because there was no way you’d ever want to go on a date, especially not with him.

“It’ll be like practice.” Steve was quick to step forward and press his hand to your forehead. Your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, trying to figure out what he was up to.

“What are you doing,” you let out a laugh, pushing his hand away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were sick,” he let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his hand away. “Because that would be the only reason why you’d ever go out with me.”

“Oh stop. You’re the only one who would actually be helpful.” He hated that you were right. He was the only one who’d be up for the task and do it right. “You’re King Steve, aren’t you? You clearly know what you’re doing since you always have a date.”

“Why not Eddie or Robin?” It wasn’t that Steve didn’t want to help you, but he didn’t think he could because then he’d want more and he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“Eddie would just laugh the whole time and Robin would overthink everything.” Steve knew both of them well enough to know that what you had said was accurate. Eddie was too close to you to take going on a date with you seriously and Robin would take everything too seriously to the point that it would drive you crazy. Steve was your only option.

Steve supposed it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d get to go on a date with you and hadn’t that been what he had wanted all along? Who cared if it wasn’t real? At that point, Steve was just going to take what he could get.

It didn’t have to mean anything. It was just to help you out so you knew what a date was like without the nerves of being around a stranger. He’d just give you pointers. Tell you how to win people over enough to get their number and how to get to a second date after the first.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Let’s go out.” Your eyes widened at his agreement. You figured that he would have said no because it was weird or because he had better things to do.

“Oh-I was joking.” He thought it was odd to hear you stutter. You had always said things so matter-of-factly with your head held high. He could tell how nervous you were then.

“I wasn’t. So let’s go out.”

“Steve.”

“Yes?” A smirk played on his pink lips and now you could see why he always got whatever he wanted. Just one flash of that damn smile and women would give him whatever he asked. Well, it wasn’t going to work on you. You were better than them.

“Why are you agreeing?” He was doing a favor, getting absolutely nothing out of it, so what was his deal?

“Why are you asking?” He wanted to know why you were grilling him when the whole thing was your idea. Joke or not, Steve didn’t think that it was half bad. Maybe it could actually work.

“Because it’s a weird request.” Steve had done weirder things like fighting with multiple monsters from alternate dimensions, so going on a fake date with you would have been one of the less weird things he had done.

“It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve done. And I want to help you, y/n.” He would do anything for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. You weren’t quite at that point in your friendship.

“Well, great,” you smiled. “When did you want to start?”

Steve thought for a second even though he knew for a fact that his schedule was wide open. It always was. If he wasn’t at work or on a date or with Robin, he was at home by himself watching movies he’d seen a thousand times or laying in his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself even though he knew there were people out there with worse problems.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the one with the busy schedule so you tell me when you’re free.” It was nice that he was being so accommodating.

“Literally never. See, this is why I don’t date.” He could see you panicking and wanted to do whatever he could to help you calm you down.

“How about this weekend,” he suggested and realized that it was already Thursday.

“Isn’t that a bit early?” Maybe it was but he didn’t care.

“Not necessarily,” he shrugged again. He didn’t think it was. He was just eager to get started. He was really looking forward to going out with you.

“What are we going to do?” That was a good question and he figured he’d let you decide.

“What do you want to do?” He saw that nervous look and he was concerned that you were going to panic again.

“I don’t know.” Your life was full of making choices. Deciding what to buy at the grocery store. What to make for dinner. What you were going to wear every day. For once you didn’t want the decision to be up to you.

“Well, what do you like to do in your free time?” Steve just wanted to make the decision easier for you. In his head, it didn’t seem like a big deal, but he didn’t know what your life was like besides that you had a sister and that your parents fought.

“I don’t know. I don’t really have free time.” Of course you didn’t. He had heard you talk about your two other jobs and practically raising your littler sister. That was a lot for anyone to have on their plates, especially for someone as young as you.

“Right,” he nodded. He hated that you didn’t even have enough free time to even figure out what you enjoyed. It broke his heart.

“You pick. I promise I’ll like whatever you choose.” That seemed like a huge promise to Steve. He didn’t think you liked anything.

“Are you sure?” He titled his head to the side and you almost thought it was cute. Almost.

“Yes, please. Just pick.” Steve actually liked the idea of choosing for once. It seemed like he was told what to do all the time so having his own decision to make made him feel good.

“We can just hang at my house then. It’s private and it’s somewhere you can leave if you feel uncomfortable.” That sounded like a good idea to you. You didn’t like the idea of having Steve pay for your dinner. You could pay for yourself just fine.

“That works for me,” you nodded.

“I can make you dinner and we can just talk. It’ll be low stakes.” Oh god, now he really was going to spend money on you. Maybe you could let it slide just this once.

“You don’t have to do this,” you handed Steve another video to put on the shelf.

Of course Steve didn’t have to, but he wanted to. He just wanted to help you out. He didn’t care if he got anything in return. He would just be content spending time with you.

“I know I don’t,” he nodded, taking the tape from you. “But I want to.”

“What should I wear?” He didn’t like where his mind went with that question. He could imagine you in a pretty dress that would be thrown onto the floor of his bedroom while you placed yourself on top of him.

“Whatever you want. You could wear sweats for all I care.”

That made you feel better since you didn’t really have any nice clothes. The only “nice” outfits you owned were the two dresses that your mother had bought you. One was for funerals and the other for weddings and you didn’t think that either of those were appropriate. Maybe you’d ask Robin if you could borrow something.

“So I could wear my pajamas,” you joked and clearly Steve didn’t get it.

“Sure,” he nodded “Whatever you want. I could wear mine too if that would make you feel better.”

“We’re not wearing pajamas, Stevie,” you shook your head with a laugh.

“I know,” he laughed as well. “You’re overthinking it.” That much was true. You were overthinking everything these days and Steve could tell. “Seriously, wear whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

The topic was dropped and the two of you made awkward small talk the rest of the night in between customers. Despite not having not talked about your “date” for hours, it was the only thing on your mind. It had made you nervous and you wanted to just tell Steve to forget it, but you couldn’t. He just seemed so insistent on helping you and you weren’t going to take that opportunity away from him.

You had never thought of Steve as intimidating, but now you couldn’t help but feel nervous around him. You were going to see a side to him that you had never seen before and that scared you. What if it had made your friendship weird? What if the date sucked and he never wanted to speak to you again?

You went to Eddie’s after work and told him everything. Of course, he thought it was the funniest thing and couldn’t stop laughing. The idea of you and Steve going out tickled him. You didn’t even have anything in common. You liked all things scary while Steve jumped when a customer came into Family Video unannounced.

However, opposites did attract and Eddie knew just how much Steve liked you even though you couldn’t see it because you had been too focused on your own life. He thought Steve would be good for you. That he would balance you out.

“You gonna wear something hot?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his bed, putting his arms behind his head.

“I don’t have anything hot, Eddie,” you laid down next to him. “And this is just a practice date. It doesn’t mean anything.” Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but Eddie knew it meant the world to Steve even if the boy wouldn’t admit it.

“Right. You know, I’m kinda offended you didn’t ask me.” He turned over to face you, propping his head up with one of his hands.

“We both know why I didn’t ask you,” you raised an eyebrow. “We’re too close and you’d just laugh the whole time.” Eddie let out a laugh at that. You were absolutely right.

“Cmon, let me wine and dine you, baby,” he reached for your hand and you pulled it away.

“Fat chance, Munson,” you cackled. “We’re just not compatible.” Eddie knew that much, but when you were fucking, it was as if your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Maybe not romantically. But physically, we’re so made for each other.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Honey, I’m always right.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you on top of him. He flipped the two of you over, pressing his body to yours, sliding his legs between yours.

“Now give me some sugar.”

“Oh, you actually want to kiss me first? Is it a special occasion?” You teased.

“No, just need to taste your lips.” You pressed your lips to his roughly, tangling your hands into his hair. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours before pulling away.

“No,” you whined. “I need you. Need your cock.”

“Sweetheart, you worked twelve hours today. I know you don’t have it in you.” Eddie was more than eager to fuck you, but he could see how tired you were and wasn’t going to through with it if you weren’t conscious enough to be enthusiastic about it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But you owe me.”

“I’ll give you two rounds tomorrow with no smoke breaks,” he pressed another kiss to your lips then pulled you into his arms.

“Deal,” you smiled, closing your eyes, feeling yourself drift off to sleep. Eddie pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” You pulled back to glare at him only making him laugh more.

“Still can’t believe you’re going out with Harrington,” he shook his head.

“Eddie, please just shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” you demanded and he was quick to close his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, resting his chin on top of your head. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Eds.” You snuggled into his chest and the two of you drifted off to sleep.

[ladytauria]

👀👀 meeting in the ER with damitim pls?

thank you!!

this is more urgent care than ER---actually, i'm picturing this happening at Leslie's clinic?---but. still on theme xD it's also heavily inspired by this post, bc... it's just so damian, you know?

“So… you said a cat did this?”

“Ah… yes.” Damian is distracted—not by the distant tug of a needle, in and out of his skin, but rather by the man doing the stitching.

He would not call him the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, but the man is certainly… attractive, with his sharp cheekbones and aquiline nose. Most striking is the pale, ice blue of his eyes; made even more so by the dark circles under his eyes.

Damian can relate.

“It was a kitten, actually,” he admits, somewhat reluctantly. 

That gets those eyes on him, the needle stilling. The nurse’s brows raise. “A kitten?”

“She was very fierce.” Normally he keeps gloves in his car for such an occasion, but he had taken them out to wash them, and— Well. Of course he ended up finding the kitten before he got them back into his car.

"I see," the nurse says, a smile tugging at his mouth. "I wonder if I'll be stitching up the next poor person to find her, too."

Damian sniffs. "Hardly," he says. "She's in my car." His emergency kennel, luckily, had still been there. He hated to leave the poor creature out there—on the way over, he had contemplated calling Richard or Todd to pick her up for him. However, neither of them was likely to listen to his instructions to leave her alone. Richard because he would believe he could befriend her, and Todd because he would underestimate the severity.

Pity Cassandra was out of town.

Pity Jon lived two hours away.

“Huh.” The nurse goes back to stitching. “You didn’t let go?” He sounds vaguely impressed. Damian cannot help the way he puffs up with pride.

“Of course not,” he says. “I would hardly leave the poor thing out there to suffer. Fierce or not, Gotham’s streets are no place for a kitten.”

The curve of the man’s mouth turns—soft, almost. It is reminiscent of a look he often sees from Richard, though it incites a different feeling in him entirely. He feels… warm. His fingertips tingle.

“Of course not,” the man echoes, softly. “Do you do that a lot? Rescue kittens, I mean.”

“At nearly one in the morning? No, not typically,” Damian says. “However, I volunteer at an animal shelter, and I am enrolled in the veterinary program at Gotham University. I find myself rescuing many animals.” He also had, vaguely, considered the notion of stitching himself up. It was only the knowledge of Richard and Pennyworth’s disappointed faces that had sent him to the clinic, instead.

“Huh,” the man says, thoughtfully. “So what happens to the kitten now?”

“She is young enough it should be fairly easy to socialize her,” Damian says. “Once she is used to people, I suppose I will look into finding her a home.” He would keep her himself, but— He has reached his limit on the amount of animals he can realistically take care of. His younger self would scoff at this, but part of adulthood was learning his limits. A dog, two cats, a snake, and several fostered kittens were certainly his.

The nurse hums, snipping the thread. He lingers at Damian’s side. “You know… I always wanted a cat. Do you… think I could call you, sometime? Maybe arrange a visit?”

Damian’s pulse quickens. “I—yes. I would be, ah. Amenable to that.”

The nurse smiles. The brightness of it steals the breath from Damian’s lungs. “Cool,” he says. “Hold on just a second.”

The nurse disposes of the needle and washes his hands before snagging one of the brochures from the countertop, by the sink. He withdraws a pen from his pocket and writes, quickly.

When he passes it to Damian, he winks. “You should be good to go now, Mr. Wayne.”

“Thank you,” Damian says, sliding off the exam table. As he walks out the door, he glances down at the paper. On it is a phone number, which Damian memorizes automatically, signed—

Tim Drake. Call me :)

Next to words is a doodle of a cat, wearing what is likely a nurse’s cap.

Damian is impossibly, terribly charmed.

[ send me an au if u like~ ]

[thesuperiorrobin]

“ I like your drawing”.

(1)

Pairing: Damian Wayne x FemReader

Word count: 1.4K

Warning: slight cursing,Damian being a dick, slight ooc

Damian Wayne liked to keep to himself. Especially in school. He sits in the back corner of the classes, never paying attention to the lecture the teacher gives out, already knowing everything that his mother and grandfather had taught him at a young age. And you’ve noticed. The way he snapped at the teacher when they scolded him for not listing nor paying. They way he would answer every question the teacher would ask him to embarrass him for not listening. But in the end embarrassing themselves when he answered correctly. He truly was a mystery at the end of the day, and that just intrigued you more.

You have also noticed that Wayne had a nice talent. A talent of art. You’ve seen it yourself every time you would glance at him. He’s looking down, eyes focused on his sketchbook In front of him as he doodles away. More focused on the piece of paper than the lesson itself. Always getting a bit pissy when the teacher would take his drawing and throw it away. You always felt bad and you can tell Damian always bites back his tongue from saying anything offensive.

He deserves some type of appreciation for those.

When the class goes silent for twenty minutes, that’s normally when Damian ignores his book, pushing it aside and pulling out a piece of paper and a perfectly sharpened pencil. He gets to work. Pencil softly placed over the white sheet as you watched closely. The book in your hands forgotten and now pushed aside.

“I like your drawing Wayne” you whispered. But loud enough for the Wayne boy next to you to hear. “A nice talent I would say”

He murmurs something under his breath. Ignoring your compliment. Minutes passed, you’ve been making little side comments and Damian was starting to get frustrated with you. All he wanted to do was draw quietly for twenty minutes and that’s it. Considering that the book he was supposed to be reading—he already read it.

“Can I help you L/N?” He spat harshly and quietly as he glared down at you.

You glanced up at the boy, smiling “no. Just watching is all. So don’t mind me”

“I actually do mind L/N” he says harshly. A bit to loudy for the class and teacher to hear

“Wayne and L/N please stay quiet. We still have about twelve minutes left.”

“Sorry”

The class goes silent for a while. Until you speak up again. “It’s a really pretty drawing. I think you’re better then the art teacher we have here actually” to Damians dislike, you started to ramble on about random things. “She’s a bit of a hag though. Much more rude than what people say honestly. Y’know got in trouble cause I walked out of class to use the bathroom because she wouldn’t let me. But I guess that’s my own fault”

“Miss.L/N and Mr. Wayne. Please if I have to tell you two to be quiet another time it’s today’s detention”

You stood quiet as the teacher eyed the two of you. You went back to your book quickly. Glancing up at the clock by the door you let out a sigh. Not even five minutes have passed. Shoving the book to the side once again, you leaned your chin down on the wooden desk. Side glancing at the Wayne beside you—who looked too deep in thought as she scribbled on the paper.

“Oh wow” you whispered, maybe a little too loudly “you actually have a killer talent Wayne. Really”

“L/n, me not answering you was a sign that I possibly didn’t wanna speak to you. Couldn’t you take the hint then?” He says harshly. Glaring down at you. You frown

“But you’re talking to me right now, right?”

“Unfortunately”

Damian scuffs. Taking his eyes off you and back done to the piece of paper in front of him.

“See you’re warming up to me. You just need a little push”

“I don’t ever want to warm up to you or anyone in this cla-“

Two pink paper slips were slipped in front of you. Along with domains drawing snatched from the desk. You and Damian glanced up— only to be met with the teacher who only frowned at both of you.

“Told you two didn’t I? I wasn’t playing and Wayne didn’t I tell you to stop drawing in my class? It’s a very nice drawing but please refrain yourself from doing it in my class” and look at you, making you shrink in your seat “it can cause others to be distracted by my lesson. Save your art skills for the art room. Now, I’ll be seeing you two after school for this afternoon's detention”

The teacher shakes her head, walks up to her desk before she throws the paper into the trash. The class was filled with quiet giggles and small chatters. The teacher silenced them and the class was now silent. Damian grumbles something under his breath, gripping the book and opening it to a random page. You felt bad. You didn’t mean to get the both of you in trouble.

“Sorry about that Wayne” you let out a small sheepish laugh. Making sure to keep your voice down. “I didn’t mean-“

“L/N. Just shut it”

“Ouch”

How were you going to make it up to him now?

~~~

The school day seemed to go by quicker than usual. But you still had a long hour ahead of you after school for detention. The teacher sat quietly at her desk, grading a few papers. Damian sat in his usual seat. The teacher looks up

“Ah miss.L/N so nice of you to join us”

They smile at you “you seat is on the opposite side from where you usually sit”

Nodding, you make your way to your new seat. Quietly you sit there, picking at the skin around your nail. Glancing up at the clock—time seemed to go slow. As if was mocking you, trying to make your life miserable by making you stay in the room longer. You let out a small sigh as you put your head down.

The teacher left not long ago. Her words being “I’ll be back in a few. Don’t move, and don’t talk” but you could tell she wasn’t talking to both you and Damian, she was talking to you. You glanced at the small trash can by the teachers desk. One filled with unwanted papers and trash. Damian's picture stood out, peeking its corners at the top of the can. With a small push backwards your seat makes a small screech. The heel of your school shoes makes small tap noises as you make your way to the trash can, stopping in front of it before you lean down. Gripping the piece of paper. You pulled it out softly.

To Damian, your steps became louder and louder within a second. He’s an ex-assassin, he knows when things are getting close. Damian lets out a heavy groan. Dropping the pencil in hand, he glanced up at you. Forest green eyes boring into yours. You stand there for a moment before sliding the sheet of paper onto his desk.

“You didn’t get to finish it” You spoke softly “and I kinda feel bad I put you in this situation so, um, yeah. You can start over. Or, Y’know—you can start off where you left off. The paper might be a little wrinkled but-“

“L/N”

You stopped your rambling as you laughed nervously “oh sorry. I tend to ramble off when I’m a little nervous.”

“A little?” Damian raised a brow. You frown—kissing the front of your teeth as you do so. You turned around pulling out the chair from behind as you dragged it to Damians desk. Plopping yourself onto the seat you let out a sigh. Damian's expression never changes. Glancing at the sudden movements you gave. He hears you speak up once more.

“We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot early. So let’s start over, yeah?”

Confused, the younger Wayne tilts his head. He watches carefully as you lean done again, chin on the wooden desk like earlier. You’re stubborn, Damian can see that. You’re recreating the small little interaction you had with him earlier in the day.

“Nice drawing you got there Wayne. You have a never nice talent”

He blinks. He doesn’t want to give in on whatever the hell you’re planning. But seeing you today, and if you add the other school days, he can see how stubborn you really are in situations like this. He breathes out through his nose. With an annoyed voice he speaks up. Making you smile

“Thank you L/N. I appreciate the compliment you oh so decided to give me today”

[elsweetheart]

hi i hope you are well <3

i keep thinking about the song wait a minute by willow with ellie. specifically “you left your diary at my house and I read those pages you really love me baby,” cause of her journals in the games. I think she would be so embarrassed but it would be so cute!!

this but with mean!bff!ellie… finding ur cute little pink diary and not even hesitating before flipping through it, finding doodles of her, your name in cursive with her last name, and entries about her like ‘Dear diary,

Ellie was actually nice to me today. Maybe she’s going to start warming up a little bit. If that’s just her personality I don’t wanna force her to change, I still want her regardless… but I like it when she’s nice to me, it makes me feel special. She told me she got some stuff for me from patrol and dumped her backpack out and it was a load of drawing stuff because I told her that I was getting into drawing. I only mentioned it once so I think she’s more thoughtful than she lets off. She’s really cute I wanna FUC kiss her <3

That’s all today, I’m going to her house later I can’t wait. I hope she’s nice again :)

and she thinks it’s sweet but her defences are up bc she doesn’t know how to handle affectionate feelings / being doted on (which is why she’s so mean) and she gets all red in the face and huffy. the next time she sees you she pulls it out your back and chuckles at the way your face drops and you look mortified.

“ellie that’s my—”

she holds it out of your reach, still laughing a little.

“diary? yeah you left it at my house. you reaaaallly love me, huh?” she teases and you get all tearful and snatch it out her hand.

“you’re not supposed to read other people’s diaries.”

“i didn’t see anything in there that said ellie don’t read this…” she shrugs, eyes still glimmering with amusement.

“its a given. i’m going home.” you push yourself up and she grabs your wrist, pulling you closer.

“c’mon don’t be like that. i actually thought it was adorable. i was even planning on being nice to you just because you like it so much.” she drags her finger down your cheek and feels you tremble just a little.

“really?” you avoid her eyes, voice quiet.

“oh yeah.” she pinches your chin forcing your eyes on her’s. “really. now what was it you wrote about kissing me?”

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

So this has been said before and by better people than me, but the thing is, anything worth doing is worth doing badly. 

There are people talking about AI art being somehow valid because it means that “anyone can create art” but—anyone can create art [see this post for some lovely discussion and examples.]. It’s part of what makes us human. Humanity has been unique among all of evolution for creating and sharing art, whether that be stories or music or paintings or crafts. Drawing in wet sand, handprints in concrete. Kids make art on our walls; we wash it off and they do it again. We sing in the shower and doodle on scrap paper. We tell stories because we don’t know how not to, even if it’s a simple as what happened during our day. 

The oldest known instruments are bone flutes from 40000 years ago; likewise, the oldest known paintings. There are oral histories that have been passed down for tens of thousands of years. We yearn to create, to share parts of ourselves in one way or another. We yearn to learn about each other from these shared fragments. There are countless museums all over the world with millions of visitors each year who travel just to see what someone else created, what bits of themselves they gave to the world.

AI “art” isn’t art. It doesn’t create from a soul, it doesn’t share fragments of its self. It steals people’s fragments and mashes them together to make something that may be aesthetically pleasing, but that can never be more than that. It can’t tell a truth because it doesn’t know what truth is.

But in this modern world where everything is commodified, every hobby is supposed to be monetized, everything is supposed to pass some sort of “test”, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that aesthetically pleasing is all that matters. It’s easy to want to earn those clicks, those likes, to feel validated by something that was mashed together by your keystrokes. It's easy to embrace the pleasant lies.

It’s hard to be bad at something. It’s hard to spend hours making something, to make yourself vulnerable, and have it not live up to what was in your head. But that’s also the nature of being human. Nobody is born good at something; they work at it. And sometimes that work isn’t aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes the story reads awkwardly. Sometimes you hit a wrong note, or spend the whole song out of key. Sometimes the photo isn’t in focus, and the pot is lopsided, and the cake looks like you dropped it. 

Sometimes you scare your cat with the glorious cacophony of learning. 

You can’t get good without being bad first, and looking at what’s bad, and trying again. Maybe this time, your lines will be crisper, even if your proportions are still off. Maybe this time, you’ll have one good sentence, one good paragraph. This time, you’ll play Chopsticks and only be off on a couple of notes; your scarf is lumpy but it’s warm and vibrant. You remember the crumb layer on your cake and it tastes good, and you meant to take a picture of the flower but you got the bee in focus, and the pot is still lopsided but it looks like a Dali clock and you kind of like it. 

Or maybe not. Maybe it will never be Insta-worthy, maybe it will lurk in your word processor for the rest of time, maybe the sketch never leaves the sketchbook and you never sing on stage. But even if it’s bad—it’s still truth. It’s still a piece of you. And that is still a celebration of being human.

If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.

[ddarker-dreams]

More sr!reader content pls 🙏🏽 I’ll take anything

OO what a fun ask... i can give some SR reader thoughts that i don't know where to put anywhere else >:)c

this girl lives paycheck to paycheck. due to the debt looming over her head, she’s hyper aware of how much she spends, and consequently, she’s picked up some unique habits. she knows what day of the week certain foods are on sale and has what she refers to as ‘an underground network’. this supposed underground network is actually just a few nice older ladies who grow veggies as a hobby and share the fresh produce with her. she can’t remember the last time she had to buy a tomato. budgeting queen.

her dynamic with her stand, scarlet ribbons, is like those first few episodes of pokémon where pikachu doesn’t want to get in the poké ball. scarlet ribbons just kinda… hangs out. hovers around whatever vicinity SR reader is occupying. bruno once likened their relationship to that of sisters, although he can’t decide which acts as the older or younger sibling between the two. scarlet ribbons enjoys doting on her user and arranging her hair in a variety of cute styles. they vibe together. fugo didn’t know what to make of it at first. he’s having this intense inner dilemma over the unsightly nature of his stand, not wanting to call on it unless absolutely necessary. meanwhile, SR reader is cooking with scarlet ribbons and they’re acting as if it’s the most normal thing ever. a true symbiotic relationship.

a facet of scarlet ribbons’ potential that isn’t discovered until much later is her ability to create clothes. the clothes can only be made in warm color tones, however. the stand was simply delighted at this revelation and frequently uses SR reader as a model for elaborate outfits. the only down side is that she enjoys it a little too much. SR reader has to plead her case that she doesn’t need to be dressed up as sailor venus to go run some errands.

SR reader is the most flexible member of the bucci gang. she also has the best overall stamina. she might not be able to beat the boys in an arm wrestling match but she has the best endurance and can keep jogging along while the others are wheezing for air. ballet legs are crazy.

makes special cards for everyone's birthday, every year, without fail. abbacchio always acts like it's corny but he secretly frames the cute creation. SR reader writes the main contents and scarlet ribbons adds the doodles. bruno and fugo keep the cards they have received in their wallet.

more 'misc' type details:

her personal motto is "well, it could be worse."

if she hadn't pursued ballet before joining passione, she would've been an elementary school teacher.

it is extremely obvious when she doesn't like someone. she's bad at hiding it.

out of everyone in the bucci gang, she has seen the most movies.

in giorno's route, she meets jotaro at some point. SR reader reminds jotaro of his mom, holly.

if pucci had the opportunity to meet SR reader, he'd be surprised that one of dio's sons fell for someone like her. he'd wonder what dio would think of giorno's choice.

[palettepainter]

How dare you create a precious Floyd x Janice love child and not tell us anything about them

I MUST KNOW MORE ABOUT YOUR BOY, CALEB

I really wanted to draw some responses to this but since I've got a feeling I'm gonna be busy in these weeks running up to Christmas and new year you'll just have to have some facts. However I can offer this doodle of baby Caleb and Animal, for some reason this didn't upload in the first post I made with him?

-He's literally vine energy, so many vines fit him so well (Kid Caleb: "Lookat all does chickens!" // Older Caleb "Road work ahead? Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does"). I can go on but I don't wanna fill this with too many vine quotes, I've been wanting to draw a little comic of kid Caleb and Floyd to one vine but that'll likely have to be a newyear thing I work on

-Gas station sushi is his life and blood

-As a child he tried to eat things he wasn't supposed to, a lot. Dirt, flowers, coins, guitar plectrums, rocks, bracelet beads. Floyd more often than not spent his time trying to pry something nonedible out of Caleb's hands when he was little

-No thoughts, head empty, only vibes

-He will and has followed a snail around the theatre for three hours

-Haircutt?? Hairdressers?? No thanks. He's terrified of hair dressers

-He was a bit of a crybaby as a kid

-He likes to collet shiny rocks/crystals and give them to people he likes

-All of his good genes went to his looks and his singing voice Caleb has a total of three braincells, those braincells being the ones that successfully ate dirt when he was a kid

-He can sleep standing up

-Is a natural on the bass and the drums (Animal was excited to show him how to play them) but naturally he leans more towards the guitar

-As well as playing the bass Caleb can also play a ukulele, harmonica and acoustic guitar

-He likes kids, finds them easy going but they can stress him out sometimes

-Talk to him about literally anything and he'll just sit there, you could talk about rock formations, and he'll sit there nodding and humming. He will not understand a word you're saying but he'll listen

-I made a doodle about this in the post I made with Caleb's design but when he was a baby he was terrified of the rest of the band, except for Animal. It took him a while to warm up to them, but he loves them now, the band probably tease him about it sometimes, but they never mean any ill will

-Mama's boy and isn't ashamed about it, it took him ages to call Floyd pa, and when he did call him Pa it was probably right in the morning when the band got up and Floyd didn't even realise until minutes later

-I don't know if I'll make this cannon or not but I've been entertaining the idea of Caleb having some form of stage fright. He's totally fine preforming with his parents and the band and even to some of the other muppets, but to a live audience and infront of a camera?? This might sound silly but I've had the idea that Caleb first goes on stage to preform alongside his folks when he's 13 - Floyd and Janice where super excited as was the rest of the band, Caleb got many pats on the back cuz he was "offically part of the band!". While the band are waiting to go on stage Caleb peaks a glance at the audience through the curtains and he realises just how big the audience is, how many eyes are going to be on him, how - if he messes up - the WHOLE world is going to see on their TV's. Then right as Bobo gives the band the go ahead to go on stage Floyd turns around to Caleb to ask if he's ready to rock, only to see that Caleb is gone - leading to the band having to quickly improvise on stage cuz Caleb isn't there to play or sing his parts. Again this is all a loose maybe idea

-His favourite animals are snails, but he also likes sloths, manatees, penguins and cats

-Sunflowers are his favourite flowers

-He likes it when people braid his hair, he finds it therapeutic

-Out of the band he probably vibes with Pepe and Rizzo the most

-Totally chill with having his nails painted he's down for a spa day

And that's all I got for now!

[bowl-of-shortness]

Qorbyn Ozwen, Post Vol .3 Character Sheet

Heyooooo, as much as I would’ve loved to shade this bad boy, the layer limit (and my way of shading) disallowed me from doing that. But it still looks great!

To all my friends whom are also artists, this is the official Qorbyn reference sheet in case you ever want to draw her!

I’ll be making another ref sheet for her weapon when I can find the energy lol.

I will also be creating a more cohesive pallet drawing for Qorbyn too.

(Click/tap for better quality)

Anyways, some quick facts about Qorbyn’s outfit!

- Qorbyn’s under shirt and pants are actually a jumpsuit.

- Qorbyn made her clothes herself however she had someone custom make her shoes.

- Qorbyn’s outfit consists of a lot of breathable, yet nice and warm fabrics. Her shoes are even breathable!

- Qorbyn’s case for Vendetta holds both bidents, one on top of the other. When she’s in a situation where she knows there may be trouble, she carries both Vendetta of the Empty out of it’s case. If she knows things will be at rest, she’ll have them inside their case. However if she’s unsure, she’ll have Vendetta out still. If she’s caught off guard, she’s taught herself the quickest way to take Vendetta out of it’s case, but typically will only take one bident out instead of the two.

- Qorbyn refers to Vendetta by feminine pronouns! Similarly to how sailors refer to their boats or ships.

- Vendetta of the Empty’s name, while brooding and kinda edgy, actually has a very personal meaning to Qorbyn. She used to be called “empty” by peers for not having a semblance or an aura. Vendetta represents her fight against the expectations of people.

This is precisely why I chose for her to leave Vendetta behind, because of what it’s supposed to represent. She’s still tying herself to the expectations of people around her, trying to strive to meet them. Her leaving Vendetta signifies that she’s still letting those expectations dictate what she does.

- Qorbyn made the first concept for Vendetta when she was in 6th grade! It was a doodle on a science test that she got back after it was graded. From there she began refining the design.

- Qorbyn made Vendetta herself! Similarly to how Qrow and Olivia made their weapons.

- Qorbyn’s signifying colors are Red, Black, and Gold! But mainly gold haha

- Qorbyn prefers not to wear an eyepatch over her blind eye because the heat and sweat that generates underneath it in hot weather is uncomfortable to her. She does however wear one in Atlas to prevent the cold from causing them to tense up too much.

- Qorbyn is completely blind in her right eye, but she’s made up for it by training her hearing in her right ear to be able to hear better.

- Qorbyn is nearsighted, light sensitive, and has mild congenital nystagmus (the author also had these! Along with a few other eye problems and severe congenital nystagmus)

- Qorbyn (similarly to her pops) freckles super easily in the sunlight! So in Vacuo she’ll definitely have freckles all over. Although she can’t seem to keep them for very long until they fade :(

[starlitangels]

High School Crush

Came up with this while writing a separate Vincent fic but this one was faster to write down. Welcome to my brain This was supposed to be a lot shorter than it ended up being 2.6k words

—

“Y’know, one of these days you’re gonna actually have to talk to him,” Melissa said. 

Erin shot her a look. “No I won’t,” she retorted.

“Erin—you’ve been drawing him from across the cafeteria since we were freshmen. It’s starting to get creepy.”

“He’s never noticed. The only one who has is you. And you only notice because you sit next to me.”

Melissa sighed and shook her head. “Just hand him one of your doodles and say he’s cute, for heaven sake!” she hissed.

“Mels, I don’t even know if he likes girls.”

“You’ll never know until you ask.”

“Maybe I don’t want to ask!”

“C’mon. This is Vincent. He seems sweet. Just... I don’t know. Shoot your shot. Because this—” Melissa grabbed the separate sketchbook full of Erin’s sketches of Vincent out from under Erin’s hands and waggled it in the air too fast to even see what was on the pages. “—is creepy.”

Erin snatched the sketchbook back and went back to drawing. “No way, Melissa,” she muttered. “I’m not brave enough for that.”

“Then I’ll do it for you. Pick your favorite drawing of him and tear it out. I’ll hand it to him and say you think he’s cute.”

“Absolutely not,” Erin snapped.

“You’re both shy. You could be the cute shy couple together.”

Erin didn’t reply immediately, but her pencil paused on its page for a moment. A blush started riding high on her cheeks, still tanned from the New Mexico summer sun. She went back to drawing. “No way would he like me back.”

Melissa sighed dramatically. “You’re hopeless.”

Erin quickly flicked through her book. Melissa was right, but she didn’t have to say it like that. The sketches at the beginning of the book were terrible but had been steadily improving over the last couple years. Still. Having so many of the same person in one book was definitely creepy. Mels was right about that. Erin just... didn’t know what else to do. She liked drawing the things and people she liked. And she’d had the biggest crush on Vincent since they’d started high school. He was tall with that black hair and deep tan. Those warm, dark brown eyes like melted chocolate.

She jolted herself out of her thoughts as the bell rang. “Dang it,” she muttered. “I didn’t get the chance to finish this one.” She’d missed the other half of his hair. She could probably fill it in freehand, but it wouldn’t look as good as it would if she was looking at him as a reference.

Melissa grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get to class, you weirdo. You can finish your doodle lover boy later.”

Erin cast one last, quick glance over her shoulder at where Vincent was gathering his own things to head to class. He froze for just a second and met her eyes, as if sensing she was watching him.

She looked away quickly, her face getting hot, and ducked between two people to disappear into the crowd. Cradling her now-closed sketchbook protectively against her chest with her head bowed. Melissa caught up with her after a second. “What’s with you now?” she complained.

“He looked at me,” Erin said quietly.

“And?”

“I don’t know. I looked away.”

“Oh my G—you could have at least winked at him!”

Erin’s whole face flushed pink. “No! Are you crazy?” she hissed. “What if I freaked him out?”

“Erin, I’m going to keep saying this until you do something: you are hopeless.”

“I knooowww,” Erin complained. The two turned a corner and finished their walk to class, sitting down next to each other in History. Melissa pulled a tube of lipgloss out of her bag and applied it to her lower lip with the compact mirror in her other hand.

“How about this,” Melissa began, snapping the compact closed, “I pretend to make plans with other friends for lunch tomorrow, and you ask if you can sit with him?”

“Nooo...”

“I’m trying to help you here.”

“I know I just... I can’t.” Erin shook her head and pulled on one of her pigtail braids the way she often did when she was nervous.

“Erin, we’re graduating next year. You’re gonna regret it if you don’t at least try.”

“I know.”

“So. Are you gonna give him one of your drawings of him and tell him he’s cute?”

Erin opened her sketchbook again, leafing back through the pages. The more recent ones had a lot of Vincent making the same daydreaming face, looking off to the side with his face resting on his hand. Erin’s skill in drawing his face was markedly better than her skill in drawing hands, but even that was slowly improving across sketches.

She bit her lower lip. She still hadn’t been able to quite catch that twinkle in his eyes... Maybe it would be easier if she was closer to him...

“I’ll think about it,” she said to Melissa.

—

The apartment phone rang down the hall. Erin hopped off her desk chair and went to go get it. “Apartment two-oh-seven, this is Erin speaking.”

“Hey Erin,” her mom’s voice greeted.

“Hi Mom. What’s wrong?” she asked. “I know that voice.”

Her mom sighed. “Re... remember that boy you had a crush on in high school?”

Erin glanced at the calendar. It was February 15th... her mom wasn’t trying to set her up on a belated Valentine’s Day date, was she? “Vincent? Yeah... Why?”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Mom?” Erin prompted.

“He went missing. In California. Two days ago.”

Erin’s heart dropped through the floor. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What happened?”

“Word around town is he went to an amusement park in California and the roller coaster track separated. A bunch of people died but his body hasn’t been recovered so he’s been reported missing. According to the friends he went with, he was on it.”

Erin took a deep breath and released it as tears sprung to her eyes. Admittedly, she’d crushed on him from afar and barely knew him, but for him to be gone? “Oh my...” She blinked and let the tears fall. “I, uh, I’ll come home this weekend.”

“You sure, baby?”

“Yeah. I... I should.”

“Okay. See you this weekend, E.”

“See you soon, Momma.”

The next few days passed slower than molasses while Erin waited for Friday. The two-hour drive from her college town back to the hometown she grew up in lasted eternity.

The look on her mom’s face when she opened the door was enough to send Erin into tears again. They hugged for a while. “Sh, sh, sh,” her mom soothed. “I know it hurts.”

“If... if I’d done something in high school... maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” Erin had been spiraling all week, and it felt good to say it out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“If... if I’d actually asked him out in high school—” She swallowed thickly. “—back when we were seniors, maybe we could have been together. Maybe he wouldn’t have been there that day.”

“Oh baby. You don’t know that. We’ll never know what could have been. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t—I just—I wish—” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

Her mom stroked her hair. “It’s okay, baby.” She reached around and picked something off the end table next to the couch they’d taken a seat on. “Wanna read his obituary? I cut it out for you.”

Erin nodded and took the thin sheet of newspaper from her mom’s hand. She read it quickly, holding away from the trajectory of her falling tears, wiping her eye with her other hand.

Once she reached the bottom where his surviving family was listed, a thought struck her. “There’s something I need to do,” she said. She got up and ran upstairs to her room. Digging through the boxes that were packed away, she found her old sketchbook. The one she’d been so embarrassed about that she hid it in the bottom of the box in hopes that her parents wouldn’t look through it and see hundreds of sketches of her high school crush.

Flipping through the pages, she tore out most of the worst ones from when she was a freshman, and a few of her favorites from when she was a senior. The ones she liked best she tucked into a folder. The rest she left in the book. She packed the folder in the backpack she’d brought from college, but kept the book in her hand.

She went back downstairs and pulled the phonebook out of one of the kitchen drawers and flipped through it, quickly jotting down the address she was looking for.

“I’ll be back soon, Mom,” she said.

“Where are you going?”

Erin opened and closed her mouth. “I’ll tell you when I get back. After the embarrassment has worn off,” she said.

She ran outside to her car, studied the address as she set her old sketchbook on the passenger seat, and turned over her engine.

The drive was short. Not even ten minutes. He’d been so close and she’d never done anything.

When she got to the address, she climbed out of the car, grabbed her book, and approached the door. Biting her lower lip and chewing on it with nerves, she rang the doorbell.

After a moment, the door opened.

“Hi,” Erin greeted. The woman had the same so-black-it-was-almost-blue hair and warm brown eyes as Vincent. “You don’t know me. I, uh, I went to high school with your son.” She cleared her throat. “I... I had the biggest crush on him. I’m so, so sorry for what happened to him.” She swallowed. “Here.” She held the sketchbook out. “He was more cared about than he knew. I... I wish I hadn’t been to shy to say anything.”

The woman took the sketchbook from Erin’s hands. Erin felt her face heating up again. She turned and went back to her car before Vincent’s mom could open the book.

Back at her own parents’ house, she picked one of her favorite sketches from the folder, cut it off the small page, and scribbled a short sentence on the back of it before tucking it into her wallet behind her ID.

—

Twenty-Three Years Later...

—

Erin laughed. “Oh man, remind me to take you to dinner more often,” she said to her manager.

Phillip chuckled. “Maybe I’ll do just that. But, tonight is to celebrate you. You got your art into a gallery in Dahlia. I know it’s a little far from home, but it’s not a bad spot.”

Erin looked around the restaurant. “No. No it’s n... not,” she said. Pausing as her eyes swept over someone.

“Hey. You okay?” Phillip asked quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah. Of course,” Erin replied. She leaned over and dug a small sketchbook and pencil out of her purse. She always kept one on her. She flipped it open to a blank page near the back and started to sketch. Quick work brought two people to life on the page. A young couple sitting across the restaurant floor directly across from her and her manager, rendering both of them in profile from her perspective.

She’d been doing this for so many years it was quick and easy to take down their likenesses while maintaining accuracy. She made sure to catch them both in a smile. And she finally got the twinkle in the eye right.

“E?” Phillip asked, watching her eyes dart back and forth between the couple and his client.

“Just—give me a second, Phillip,” she said. “I’m an artist. I’m allowed to be eccentric.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright,” he said, picking up his fork.

After a few minutes, during which Phillip had nearly finished his meal and Erin’s had been allowed to grow cold, she signed and dated the page, took a quick picture of it on her phone, and tore it out of her book. She dug something out of her wallet and attached the two pieces of paper together with a paperclip. The kind that had probably been in the bottom of her purse for who knew how long and she’d known was there but had mostly forgotten about.

She got up from the table and crossed the floor.

“Excuse me,” she said to the couple. Both turned to look at her, and for a moment both their grey eyes flashed like a cat’s in the light. She smiled. “Hi. I’m Erin. And, I’m sorry, but—” She tilted a bit to mostly face the tall, slim , pale gentleman with the blue-black curls. “—you look just like the boy I had a crush on in high school back in New Mexico. I was always too shy to give one of these to him, and he passed away before I had the chance after we graduated and went to different colleges.” She held out the drawing and the paper clipped beneath it. “I hope you two are happy together.” She smiled at the young man’s partner and dipped her head.

The young man took the paper from her. His mouth dropped open. “Th—thank you. This is beautiful. Did... did you just barely do this?”

Erin nodded. “I did. Yes. You two have a good night now.” She turned and moved to go back to her own table.

“Pardon,” the young man said. She turned back. “What was his name?”

“Vincent.”

The young man smiled. He had a dazzling smile. “Well. Vincent was very lucky,” he said. Erin nodded agreement and went back to her table. She heard the young man hold the paper out to his partner. “Lovely, look at this. It’s incredible,” he said softly. Erin took up her seat and went back to her now-cold food and her conversation with Phillip.

—

I took the paper from Vincent and examined it. “Wow. She’s good,” I whispered. “That looks just like us.”

Vincent cast a glance across the restaurant floor at the woman. She was in her forties. Brown hair going a bit grey, laugh-lines forming at the corners of her eyes. He reached for the paper in my hands. Pulling the paper clip and whatever was behind it off. He sighed, a small smile forming on his face. “I’m glad she’s happy now,” he whispered.

He showed the other tiny square of paper to me. It looked just like him. A little skinnier and maybe three years younger, but it was definitely him. Except the eyes. They were dark. The drawing was old. Faded and smudged from spending who knew how many years somewhere. Scrunching his eyebrows, he flipped the paper over.

In messy handwriting, presumably the woman’s, was written: Never miss an opportunity.

I met his eyes. “You really knew her.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “We went to high school together. I haven’t seen anyone from my human life in...” He shook his head. “Decades. I mean, it’s not like I can go back.”

I made a sad face. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I have you. And Will. And Sam.” He chuckled. “That’s all I need.” I handed the drawing back to him. “And I’m not planning on missing any of the opportunities I have—ever again.” He leaned across the table. I met him halfway and gave him a quick kiss.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose

[dkniade]

Regarding those Edwin doodles, why was he beaten up? Who was talking to him? 👀 Also, moomoo Edwin is so cute >:3c 💕💕💕

context

Oh, it was no one in particular (Maybe a rival gang member if I were to specify…? Probably not his former creative partner Thea though. She’s not that violent haha..) (I haven’t thought of details of Thea and Edwin’s backstory in a long time now, and surface personality traits are hard to pin down without a backstory.)

The joke was that in the first scenario he was painting and in the second he was in pain because of the meme (?) that there’s “pain” in “painting” haha (I don’t believe painting/drawing has to inherently be a painful process though, or that only painful emotions make good art)

Also I wanted to draw him beaten up (either it was just for fun or I was maybe frustrated? Probably just for fun though.) I like drawing characters looking up defiantly even as they’re beaten up✨

moo moo Edwin hahaha— Thank you! I’ve heard that cows can be fluffy…

Come to think of it, I dunno what animal motif he’d have if he were to have one.

A cheerful artist… with some sort of identity confusion due to winter depression (old 2019 concept. Looking back, the severity doesn’t seem to match my knowledge of winter depression)(if he’s ashamed, does he feel it so deeply that he voluntarily uses a slightly different name, uses a mask to cover his face, AND grows out his hair & dyes it, all for the sake of… having his orange look be the happy/cheerful/friendly one?) (If he hides himself in plain sight, if he can’t accept this as part of himself, this can lead to some troublesome identity issues…)(unrelated to gender)

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“I’m Edwin! Nice to meet you too!” —Edwin, usually in spring/summer

“Hey, just call me Devin for now. No, it’s not because I want to change my name or anything. It’s, uhh… an… alias…? Haha…” — Devin, on the outside probably, in winter

“What is this ‘Devin’ name to me? Am I even allowed to feel this way as myself? God, but what am I supposed to do? I can’t just tell people that it comes every winter and gets better in spring.” —Edwin, on the inside probably

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(…I almost want to compare him to “Childe” Tartaglia Ajax simply for his multiple names/identity thing but uhh, that guy’s on a whole different level. Venti/Barbatos? Hmm but to my knowledge nothing particularly bad happened to Edwin.)

What would be an animal that emphases this duality I wonder… An animal that looks friendly and colourful but isn’t what it seems…

…poison dart frog???

(SAD = Seasonal Affective Disorder)

[Start transcript

first image: the concept sheet

a flat colour sketch in upper corner is labelled True Palette. A cartoony waist-up version with bright warm colours is labeled Edwin and an anime headshot version with desaturated colours is labeled Devin. Another flat-colour shot of Edwin/Devin is labeled flat sample. A full body reference of both is labeled Project SAD Palette. Edwin is labeled spring/summer (“usually”) and Devin is labeled under effects of SAD

second image: the mock magazine cover

knees-up greyscale illustration of Devin sitting with his winter coat and mask, looking at the viewer, his hands in fists. His eyes and hair clip are light green. Behind him is a black circle outline with two sharp black triangles pointing at him. White magazine header: SYMPTOM. separate subheadings in green: questions, sunshine. separate text in white: What does SAD stand for? What are some symptoms of winter depression? What are some symptoms of summer depression? What hormone does sunshine trigger the brain to release? What is an alternative to sunshine? In the right corner, in green: A solution to your problems!?

third and fourth images: sketch of Edwin/Devin with some information

Edwin. he/him, 20. yellow barcode piercing (right ear). left-handed. neutral expression looks surprised/confused. hard to read based on expression & body language. has a secret he’s ashamed of. (he doesn’t have to be though.) arrow points to him, saying spring/summer.

Devin. he/him, 20. black triangle frame piercing (left ear). left-handed (still). Edwin winter an Alia’s & disguise. wears mask not for physical health (in his opinion). seasonal affective disorder: winter depression. tried to hide his symptoms but isn’t good at it. ashamed of his winter depression. wants to separate his depressed self from his usual self. arrow points to him, saying autumn/winter.

end transcript.]

[raeharmonia]

Alone in my living room

Author's note: hello, im back with a quick drabble. Im having a terrible month and what better way to express my emotions than to write an Amaranthe drabble of it MSKKSMS

I was listening to Sleeping at Last's Space for Sleep album while writing this (i love Sleeping at Last one of my comfort artists fr) Also this was intended to be a Lymaranthe hurt/comfort fic but i ditched the idea lol it just doesn't sit right for me. This might be the reason why the first half is a bit weird sorryy qwq

Word count: 698, semi-proofread Tags: angst, very venty, brief Lyney appearance lol, weird attempt of writing an accurate description of making tea (tried my best), mention of a want to disappear, self-deprecation

The sounds of the bustling city overwhelms Amaranthe's senses, the people's overlapping chatter makes her head feel dizzy. Lately, she felt even more emotionally and physically drained than usual, constant voices of insecurities flooding her mind ever since.

She tried doodling something on her sketchbook in an attempt to comfort her troubled soul but to no avail. Erasing the unfinished lines as soon as it shows signs of failure, leaving Amaranthe to stare at the leftover marks of graphite on her paper with frustration.

Unfortunately, the walk that was supposed to drive those feelings away only drained her even more. The bright rays of the sunlight and the overwhelmingly loud sounds of the streets amplified her stress levels.

Her hand found its way at the nearest streetlight, leaning against the metal pole in an attempt to calm herself down. She needs something that will ground herself back to reality, desperately.

"My lady, are you okay?"

A voice nearby called, it was filled with worry rather than his usual flamboyant tone.

His voice sounds gentle and warm, she thought.

"Oh im alright, Mr. Lyney. Thank you for your concern." Amaranthe managed to force a small smile, its so painful that its chipping away her remaining energy.

But she has no choice, she can't let him know that she's in such a state.

"But your eyes tells me otherwise. The eyes are the window to someone soul is it no—"

"I said im fine! Can you please shut up for once?!"

Lyney's eyes widened at her reaction, shocked to witness Amaranthe's sudden outburst.

Her tone is firm and cold, as cold as a snowstorm. And her sharp gaze lacked it's usual shine, devoid of color and light.

"I- im sorry i didn't mean to... I need to be alone."

The smell of rainbow roses surrounded the living room as she opened the door of her home. Her stress dwindled as she takes in the comforting atmosphere that her home can only provide.

Amaranthe then boiled some hot water for tea and takes out a box of tea bags out of the kitchen cupboard. Once the water finishes boiling, she poured it into a cup and dunked two tea bags in it.

She grabs a couple of brownies from a paper bag that Charlotte left for her 3 days ago and placed them on a small plate. She brings her teacup and plate towards the living and placed them on the coffee table.

After some time, she brings the teacup near to her lips and blew on the her tea before taking a sip. The sweet and sour flavors of the drink soothes her mind quite a bit. She takes a bite of the brownie, the sweet chocolate flavor made a small smile creep up her lips.

The only things that are accompanying her silence are the soft winds of the outdoors and the soft ticks of her clock.

She looked up at the clock to check the time. Its 2pm. Usually at that time she would be drawing, but the fear of failure hesitated her from picking up her art supplies.

As much as she likes the moments of solitude, she cant help but feel a bit lonely. Without the sounds of companionship filling up the room to distract her, negative thoughts and insecurities began clouding her mind.

Do people really like her? Do they really mean whenever they say that she's amazing and talented? Or are they just pretending and lying to her face? People clearly like someone else who also does the same thing as her better and are only spending time with her out of pity.

She's not amazing. Far from that. She'll always besomeone who is boring and make nothing but horrendous art. Why would anyone like someone like her?

Sometimes, she just wants to disappear altogether.

"Liars." she muttered.

A tear fell down from her eye, landing on her tea which caused it to ripple in the cup.

She places her cup on her table as more tears falls down her face.

She lied down against the soft cushions of her sofa and began crying softly.

This was the 4th time she cried this week.

[i-am-still-bb]

No. 27

“You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” | Matches | Scars | "Let me see."

Pairing: Fili/Kili (mentioned Kili/OMC) Rating: Teen AU: Fast Car (formerly Dead Batteries) - Ao3 / Tumblr Words: 1076

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Warnings: self harm, scars

(and probably some typos and tense switching, I'll get around to fixing them after NaNo and before this goes up on Ao3)

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There were scars on Kili’s arms. 

They started out angry, red, and bleeding. He would press his fingers to them to distract him from his other feelings. The physical pain overwhelmed any and all thoughts including those about…

Kili dug a fingernail into one of the fresh scars and that thought stopped there. He most certainly did not follow that thread of thought and feeling to wonder what it would be like to…

No. 

He wore long sleeves even when it was warm. When he was asked if he was hot he just shrugged and said no. And that was that. 

Then the scars faded and no new wounds joined them. They faded to silver or a faint pink on his skin. And they were really only noticeable if someone were close and looking for them. Kili saw them. Sometimes they bothered him and he would wear long sleeves again, but mostly he forgot about them and no one asked.

Then Fili asked.

Fili had parked his car, the one that was held together with duct tape and hope, in its usual place near the shed. Hidden from the house by the shed, shielded from the neighbors by the tall wooden fence, and much warmer than the shed they sat in the car talking until they were not talking anymore.

Fili was sprawled on the back seat that was far too small for such a thing. His face was lit by the cool light of the security light that was on this side of the shed. Their cheeks were pink, eyes wide, and the windows of the car were fogged enough to filter that bright light to something that seemed to fit the mood. Kili had one hand planted on the seat next to Fili’s head, the other on Fili’s chest, a seatbelt buckle dug painfully into his knee. 

Fili had taken hold of Kili’s wrist, eyes closed, with a sharp inhale. He turned his head and Kili’s inner forearm. Then his eyes widened and his brows furrowed. “What’s this?” He ran a finger over one of the scars. 

Kili pulled his hand away, quickly shifting back and away from Fili until his back was pressed against the wall of the backseat with its small inset window and molded armrest. “Nothing.” Kili crossed his arms. 

The light cast start shadows on their skin. Fili pushed himself up, his bare chest rising and falling steadily. He pulled one leg up to better balance on the narrow seat. “Let me…” he reached out and took hold of Kili’s hand, pulling Kili’s hand toward him and turning it so that his palm and inner arm faced up. Fili ducked forward to see them more closely. “Kili…” his voice was soft. “When did…” Fili ran a finger over the scars.

Kili twitched. “A long time ago.”

“When?”

Kili shrugged and looked past Fili to the fogged and smudged world through the back window. “Middle school, maybe Freshman year.”

“Do you do it now?”

“No.” Kili exhaled and looked at Fili again. “Not in a long time. I don’t really remember when I stopped, but it’s been years.”

“Will you tell me if you want to start again?” Fili asked quietly.

“I guess. If you want.”

“I do.” 

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I missed it the first time.”

“I didn’t tell anyone.”

“But I’m your best friend. I should have known.”

“I’m not your responsibility,” Kili said. “I can take care of myself.”

“I want to help.”

“I know…” Kili relaxed, moved away from the molded plastic wall. 

Fili had lifted Kili’s hand then and pressed a kiss to the palm and then moved to Kili’s wrist. He lingered on each scar, lips caressing the rough yet still sensitive skin. Kili shivered. It became a thing that Fili did regularly, a way of showing Kili that he was loved and accepted, even his darker parts. 

And then there was the time when they were supposed to be doing their homework and Fili had started doodling on Kili’s arm instead. With a red pen he had drawn small hearts and flowers on the scars.

And then one time he had drawn stars and galaxies swirling across Kili’s skin with gel pens. He had used a silver one, highlighting the scars and turning them into something beautiful. Kili had not washed his arm for a week after that. He had traced over the silver glittering lines and not thought about the pain that had caused them in the first place. 

After Kili left he had pressed fingernails into the scars again, remembering the pain, but he did not create any new wounds. He could only think of Fili’s sad and disappointed expression and that stayed his hand. The indentations from his fingernails faded quickly and eventually he had learned better coping skills. He started running, using a stationary rowing machine (a torture device that caused callouses and blisters that tore his hands apart), he wore a rubber band on his wrist to snap himself when he had the urge to harm himself—all things suggested by the school’s therapist.

And then he did not need them anymore. He did not have to remind himself to distract himself; it became a habit, just something that he did. On Fili’s birthday he would wake up early and go to the gym, he would make plans with friends. Later he would schedule meetings with the escort that he was seeing from time to time. But he did not have to remind himself to do any of those things anymore.

Now Kili does not even notice them or remember that they are there most of the time. Occasionally they itch and grow red and irritated, and sometimes they would catch in the light and were highlighted by the sun. He occasionally traced a finger over the thin lines and wonders if a tattoo could hide them, if he wants them hidden, and he feels regret for the boy he used to be, and glad that he lived to see himself get better. 

And he no longer lied if anyone asked about them. Fili’s acceptance had made him feel less shame regarding the scars and how they came to be, and that was something Kili carried with him even though it was a decade later. And sometimes he wished he could thank Fili for all he had done and all the ways that Fili had healed him without even trying.

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Taglist Everything @silvermoon-scrolls @metztliluaa-blog @i-am-pinkie

Fili/Kili @dubhlachen