#doodle drews artist company thing!

[artistthetravel]

Youtube: CartoonLabritory > PaperRadio Ep:1

Ima shoo t 2 make a ep:2

Then paper mag ect

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (5) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.

Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 

You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 

When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 

“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”

You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 

“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”

He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 

You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”

“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 

“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”

“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”

He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”

“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”

He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”

You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”

“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 

“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 

Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 

“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”

Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”

“You want to see them. Really?”

“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”

Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”

“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”

“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I mean, only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Don’t tell Rafe though–”

Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”

Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 

There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”

Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 

“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”

“Uh …no,” You stared. 

Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 

“Good, get in, Bambi.”

“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 

“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”

You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”

“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 

“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 

“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”

Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 

“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”

“He’s full of shit.”

You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”

“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”

“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”

“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”

“But why–”

“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”

You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 

Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”

“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”

Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”

“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 

“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”

“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”

“... It could be really fun …”

“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”

“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”

“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”

You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 

Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 

Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 

“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 

The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 

The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 

“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”

JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 

The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 

“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”

Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 

Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”

Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”

Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 

“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 

“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”

“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 

“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“You saved me.”

Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”

Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”

“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”

“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”

“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”

Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 

“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 

“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”

Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 

“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”

You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 

“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”

You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 

He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”

Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 

“Thank me.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 

Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 

A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 

“Did people always stare at you like this?”

“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”

“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 

“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 

“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.

“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”

“Coffee isn’t good for you.”

“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 

You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”

You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 

You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 

“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 

“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 

The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”

“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 

“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”

He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”

“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 

“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 

You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 

“Daddy-”

“Let’s go, Bambi.”

“Rafe-”

“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 

You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.

PART 6

Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!

[mellosdrawings]

I'm feeling like rambling about AI on main, ignore me if it's not your cup of tea.

So a while ago, I did check out those art prompts AI, because when I pester about something, I like to know what I'm rambling about. I like to do a minimum of research and, if possible, try the thing out before making my opinion. For AI art, my opinion was already pretty solid, but I still wanted to check it out.

I found a free prompt stuff online, asked it a super easy prompt, and asked for a handful of different images. Just to see.

The prompt was [character tripping]. Really. Super easy, right? I wanted the thing to have as much liberty as possible.

It's not just that though. I chose this prompt because it is something I did in art school. Our teacher would give us simple prompts, and we would have to draw doodles in 5 minutes or less. Imagine a class of 15 exhausted art students full of caffeine being told to draw someone tripping.

The 15 art students' results? Little boys tripping over tree roots, teenage girls falling while rollskating, business men tripping on their papers and burning themselves with coffee, old ladies cracking a hip, comical falls backwards with a leg up, realistic falls forward with pained expressions, etc etc.

See, our fast doodles weren't any better than AI anatomically speaking. We were missing hands and our faces were distorted and a foot was bigger than another, things that are also common with AI. But the DIVERSITY. I remember being flabbergasted by it. We all had the same prompt, but none of us drew the same thing. I remember drawing the good old banana peel slip from the old comics I read when I was a kid. My best friend drew a kid falling in mud.

We did several prompts like that as training, and I always loved to see what everybody was doing, because it was always so different.

Now, here was the AI result: 5 anime girls in a running position at an angle, making shocked pikachu faces. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. The angle and the running poses were the only things that changed, and even then just slightly.

The AI only did 5 times the same stuff. Art style changed a bit from one to the other, but always the same vibe, always the same composition, and always that godsdamned shocked pikachu face. It was very underwhelming.

I don't care about perfect anatomy and lighting. But I care about creativity. I love seeing things that I would never have thought to do myself. And the AI didn't provide that at all. Coz AI has no creativity whatsoever. If you don't further your prompt to be very specific, it will just reheat the same bland stuff again and again. It's just boring.

I have a lot of grievances about AI. Art theft, environmental blunder, artists being paid even less than they already were (as if people and companies suggesting to pay us in visibility wasn't bad enough). But even on an emotional level there's nothing. Yes, it's great to see one's character/idea brought to life when one cannot draw. But it'll be the blandest stuff ever. That's just a shame.

[merbear25]

Hey hi! Can you do romantic hcs with prussia, France and Belarus x reader who likes to draw them and does it all the time. Thanks! ^v^

Oh my goodness, what a cute idea for you to send in! I loved considering how they’d feel. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you.💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, headcanons/scenarios

When you like drawing them (Prussia, France, Belarus)

Prussia

Of course, you would want to draw him! He had such dazzling features, so he’d be more than happy to strike a few poses for you.

He was far from shy and bashful so would be sure that you caught his good side (all of his sides were his good side).

It would go without saying that whatever you drew, whether or not it was of him, would be showered with compliments. He admired your artistic abilities. On the days you were overly critical of your art, he’d be there pointing out specific things he adored about each work of yours.

Even though he had a loud personality, the drawings you did of him when he wasn’t paying attention and simply doing mundane things got the strongest reaction out of him. This reaction was quiet in comparison to the others but was felt the most deeply.

He could understand why you’d want to draw him in a pose or doing something iconic, but seeing how much care you put into capturing his quieter moments made his heart skip a beat.

Such things were deemed as unimportant to him—not worth capturing, especially when the method was talent based. Why you thought the opposite was a mystery, and yet he was thankful for it.

France

You flattered him, honestly. He would ask if you had any specific ideas in mind so as to help pose if need be. Any props you needed him to hold to get the proportions just right would gladly be modeled with.

He did his best not to sneak peaks because he’d rather it be a surprise. Needless to say, he was nothing short of amazed with whatever the final version was—the artist was near and dear to him, meaning each work was cherished by him regardless what it was of.

There were plenty of moments he looked over at you, admiring the way you furrowed your brow in concentration. Some of the motions you made while thinking through the positions got him chuckling.

When you asked what was so funny, he waved it off by saying a random thought had crossed his mind.

There were no favorites of his. He enjoyed every style you drew in. Sure, he had a preference towards the softer and cuter depictions of himself and the other things you drew, but that never meant he saw the darker choices you made as less than extraordinary.

He enjoyed art and drew from time to time, so he’d offer to set time aside to do it together—forming a stronger bond was the overall goal.

Belarus

She wouldn’t enjoy it at first. Her insecurities would come through, ruining the precious bonding potential it held. The main reason for the cold shoulder it signaled was her not fully understanding why you wanted to.

You showed her some cute doodles you did of her, and that was what changed her mind. She came around, albeit slowly, but eventually learned to appreciate it for what it was—a sign of your adoration for her.

She’d want to sit next to you and watch the process unfold. However, she was horribly awkward about it. When you looked up at her coming over to you, she chickened out, blaming you for making her feel weird about it.

You didn’t think much of this behavior. It was just her way of attempting to reach out, so you ignored it and showed her the drawings once having finished.

The more open you were with showing your works, the more comfortable she got to the idea of you drawing her. Deep down, she enjoyed how you portrayed her—there was a beauty and delicacy in the strokes you made.

When she felt enough at ease, you had some stern-faced company looking over your shoulder as you drew. That was fine though. She was simply mesmerized by your technique and wished to observe it was all.

[thestrawberrygirly]

thoughtful things you can do for your partner 🧸🍓

💌 gift a cute drawing drew by you of the scenery of your first kiss with them 💌

it doesn't has to be very perfectly drawn if you aren't an amazing artist, all matters is the efforts of yours for them. it will be a very beautiful memory to treasure in future for both of you .

💌 writing letters on birthday 💌

now this is little different kind of letters, let's suppose your partner is turning 20 y/o so you have to write 20 different handwritten letters for them. you can also combine these pages together making it as a card. decorate it according to what colour or any favorite character your partner admires. now if you are like confused thinking "what should i write in these 20 pages?" then let me give you few ideas; you can write poem in one page along with cute doodles and drawings, write a love letter for them pouring your heart out with all heartfull compliments and how much you love them, write about a memory you both admire alot and many more and I bet your partner will be overwhelmed!!!

i have a solution for the ones who are in long distance relationship, you can make the thing I said above in google docs and gift them as pdf <3

💌 gift a garden 💌

instead of gifting your lover a bouquet of flowers which might hurt the plants :( and also flowers might die afterwards, you can plant a bunch of flower seeds beautifully and take care of it daily and once it is a beautiful flower garden, you can decorate the garden, search on pinterest for ideas. once everything needed is ready, you can surprise your partner taking them there and spend time together. you can hangout in your garden together and make numerous memories.

by gifting a garden to your love not only strengths your relationship but also shows how much patient you are with them and how much loyal you are, it shows how much you love them <3

💌 sweet messages 💌

sending sweet messages to your love every day is like giving them a big hug with words! don't keep your love to yourself; share it freely! compliment them to make them feel good about themselves. the more you do this, the stronger your love will grow!

💌 paint together 💌

painting together with your love in a garden is like creating a masterpiece of memories. feel the brush strokes dance on the canvas as you both laugh and enjoy each other's company. with every stroke of paint, you're adding colors of joy to your relationship, making it more vibrant and beautiful. It's a sweet moment to cherish forever.

💌 cook for them 💌

make their favorite meal! just follow the recipe step by step. cook the food until it's perfect. serve it with a cute note or letter and enjoy eating together!

💌 memory book 💌

make a scrapbook or a cute photo album with pictures of the best times you've had together. you can put in photos of fun things you both did and happy moments you both shared. it'll be a nice way to remember all the good times you both had.

[exoticalmonde]

LUNDInium Outskirts /but it's her insane doodles/ PART VII

I see that a lot of you have been enjoying me posting about our silly Arknights shenanigans, aided by my wonderful company of sillies. So, while we're waiting for me to not be dying from my schoolwork and post more Babel, have some long-awaited doodles.

This time there are just going to be a lot more memes rather than art, because we love all our artists and they work on their own volition.

Me: *Complaining about not having Gnosis* Lundi, a Sankta: *Pushes Gnosis down the stairs* Gnosis: *Falls* Me: *'Just happening' to pass by so I catch him right before he hits the ground* "Oya? Did an angel send you to me?" Gnosis: "…….." Lundi:

---

The context was lost for a little, but Dr. Lundi is here with me as I am making the post to remind us all that this thing Zamboni-looking thing exists on one of the Laterano maps:

And that she, as a Sankta, can't, in fact, drive.

---

(I drew this one personally now that I have my tablet again)

---

After this conversation, I immediately requested it and Dr. Lundi being the devoted horse-respecter can't let an old man sleep just anywhere, he's going to get cramped up 6 knots to Sunday.

Yes, Hoederer has a tail. In my head, but he has to have a tail because I love him and he deserves to have one.

The Aegir in our group however got uh---

---

This is just funny on its own, no silly doodle here.

---

HEY I WANT TO SAY THAT I REALLY DESERVED THAT STAR

Not only did I do the ENTIRE CC on my own without guidance, I thought for my own and used my own characters no matter how powerless they were (Thank you, Totter, for being the MVP of this map and letting me get dinner AND eat it while you were working on the coral freaks) AND I ALSO HELPED DR. KRYO WITH IT WHILE HE WAS STRUGGLING, SO THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY 'your did it' AWARDS, IM GLAD TO BE HERE!

---

He's coming soon, almost less than two months??? GO DR. LUNDI, HE IS SO GUARANTEED FOR YOU I SINCERELY HOPE SHE GETS HIM 10 TIMES IN A SINGLE 10-PULL IT'S SO DESERVED.

---

Ela and Doc appreciation doodle.

---

'Today' means 24th of October. Why am I being messaged this unprovoked?

Because it's ... National Throw Short People Day and Dr. Eve is the shortest of the group.

DURING THIS WE ALSO CELEBRATE DR. KRYO GETTING HIS TABLET. Everybody chap.

---

Dr. Kryo's tablet actually unabled him to do a lot more doodles and he has been making AMAZING progress. To say that I'm proud would be an understatement, I can't wait for him to surpass us all in passion and dedication. That also means +1 person to make memes.

Speaking of which,

---

Although I am not French, I have a great appreciation for the language and from a previous post you might gage that I like the idea of it existing.... Despite all facts proving in the opposite direction.

And that passion of mine was unlocked when Doc hit the world. However, ulterior motives and hidden opinions were revealed during those times.

Like whatever

THIS THING IS---- DR. PLEASE STOP, YOU'RE MAKING A 39 YEAR OLD CRY IN THE OPEN!!!

---

Dr. Lundi: "…" Młynar: "..."

Later Młynar: "So it all started the day my brother was taken away…" Dr. Lundi : *Nods enthusiastically in the patient's chair*

[offonaherosjourney]

Leverage episode where... you know what? Screw it. LEVERAGE SEASON where someone that works in the entertainment business gets in contact with the gang because a company screwed them out of something, so the gang does their cons & heists thing to help them. Except at the end of the episode the person they helped is like "so... is it cool if I give your number to a friend that works at a different company and also got screwed".

So there's an episode where they help an actor that had been trying to get their break for a while and then they finally landed a good role but when the movie was almost ready to air the company scrapped it for tax purposes and now no one will see their work and that acting credit is useless.

As well as an episode where a different company wants to completely delete a tv series to avoid paying residuals to everyone involved and the gang does a heist to steal the episodes and also cons the company into mailing dvds of the tv series to like half the country.

There's also an episode where they help a singer that got tricked into relinquishing the rights of their songs, and while helping the singer they discover the record company had done the same thing to several other artists so they trick them into returning them and confessing the crime in a room full of lawyers, cops, judges and reporters.

Also, there's one episode where an animator had an idea for a character for their personal webcomic and did a quick doodle while at work, unaware that in their contract in very small print it said that anything any artist drew during working hours instantly became the intelectual property of the company. By the end, the artist not only gets a book deal from a publishing house but also a movie deal from their old company. The artist sings the former and rips the latter.

And then there's that episode where a company fires all their writers because they want to use AI instead and not only does the gang get them their money but also the server room for the AI "accidentally" burns down and when the scriptwriters ask the gang who did it all of them raise their hands.

[toreodere]

Had a whole dream just now about an apparently lost Adult Swim pilot episode for a show about a disgruntled Pizza Delivery guy who's largely disappointed by his own logo.

So atarting off here the majority of the short took place within this guy's dusty apartment, the look id describe this show having was an odd combination of Bob's burgers with the atmosphere of an old Garfield short and the art sensibilites of Beavis and Butthead, with occasional moments that went into gritty psychedelia for seemingly no reason.

The Pizza Guy, through the episode every so often would deliver these bizarre, oversized pizza boxes to people, never saw a single pizza in the actual short but it was mentioned that yeah thats what he delivers, The boxes mind you, were bout the size of a giant painting for some reason, about the height of two men, I recall seeing many of them propped up against a wall of the apartment while the protagonist seemingly just paced around contemplating what to do with his situation around the mid point of the episode.

the general plot of this episode by the way, was about the various attempts made to make the company he's delivering for look better, first he lodges a complaint about the name, I cant recall what it was but I know it was something along the lines of Dude Man Pizza Pizza, which he felt was lame and bogus, only for him to get a new name that was largely vague gibberish that sounded like Italian, which only pissed him off even more, making the guy go off to an artist friend who he commissions to give him a new name and a new logo, one he soon ended up designing for himself in an overly long montage where you just kept seeing the guy putting down sketches and painting what will presumably be his new logo's mascot, all this being set to an intense oingo boingo esque orcheatral piece which played while all the different paintings the Pizza Guy drew seemingly morphed and danced in a painterly style, something that would be very difficult to animate, especially for what looked like a very cheap late 90s production.

I guess also part of the joke of the montage was that various things he painted were ludicrously offensive on accident, one painting we see his whole process for before he quickly scraps it starting off as structured doodles, then becoming a skeleton, then muscles, a "very pointy sheet ghost" before it very quickly goes up in flames.

I think I woke up just as the montage was ending so I dont know what happened next but this is apparently what id just woken up from, h hope yall enjoyed reading my bizarre dream diary. entry.

[bmodiwrites]

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Hi friends! This one is based of a prompt I got sent a couple of days ago. The general gist of it is janitor x workaholic AU. So, here we are! Eddie's a story board editor with nothing to go home to and Steve, well, he's a janitor. This little beauty is filled with cuteness, a few twists, and lots of steddie goodness. Oh, there's some naught stuff, too. Minors, DNI! Check it out here or over on AO3! Let me know what you think in the comments below <3

Dropping the ludicrously expensive color pencil back onto his drawing desk, Eddie reclines back into his chair. He quickly clenches and unclenches his fingers in a desperate attempt to get some blood flow back to them. The sketch before him, a recent episode idea for Epic Kids, is almost perfect – after ten straight hours of work, Eddie is glad to see the thing finally shaping up into what it’s actually supposed to be.

As a story board artist, the demands on Eddie change daily. He doesn’t work for one show or something simple like that. Instead, he works for a company that dabbles in both television and video games. His projects range from children’s shows to multi-million dollar selling video games. No one knew the 90’s would be the time technology blew up – now, so many different game consoles exist, Eddie is never shy on work.

Upon picking up the craft right out of college, Eddie didn’t expect this to be the rest of his life. Sometimes, though, the world works in mysterious ways. The children’s book he always wanted to write comes alive in the shorts he draws and ideas he shares. Though he’s still wanting to put together a D&D epic for younger kids, Eddie is content enough with his lot to continue doodling on someone else’s dime.

He's about to pick the red pencil back up when the creak of his already open door startles him. It’s well past the time at night where anyone else is usually in the building. Eddie likes to close his door until everyone leaves so he’s got the space to himself. Now, he’s drawing in ambient light with nothing to disturb him – except, he guesses, for a gorgeous man dragging along a cleaning cart.

For a lingering moment, Eddie knows the man hasn’t seen him yet. He’s got headphones covering his ears and his head bobs to the beat. Strong hands are already reaching for the tools he’ll need to clean the floor before clearing out Eddie’s trash. This guy is new because no one ever took the time to sweep up the pencil shavings under Eddie’s desk. Lately, he’s been coming back to the office to a clean space. Now, he knows who the culprit is.

Since the guy still isn’t reacting to Eddie’s presence, brown eyes greedily take in their fill. Though the headphones push it down, the janitor has gorgeous hair. It’s thick and dirty blonde. Eddie thinks about the potential for amazing hairstyles and almost swoons. As his eyes roam a little further, Eddie notices wide wire-framed glasses pushed up an angular nose. They enhance hazel eyes that are now looking at him with a mix of panic and surprise.

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. No one is ever here, I didn’t even think to knock. I’ll uh – I’ll come back later.” The words are out of the new janitors mouth so fast that Eddie’s head spins. Though, he’s quick to put it on right in hopes of keeping this mouthwatering stranger in the room.

“Hey, it’s alright. I should be thanking you. You’re the first cleaner to ever pick up my pencil shavings. It’s awesome, man. I appreciate it.” Eddie finishes his thanks with a soft smile. It should be enough, saying something sweet before moving on. Yet, it’s not. Eddie feels compelled to keep talking. “Are you new?”

The guy looks incredibly uncomfortable for a second before nodding. It’s brief and coarse but it’s a reaction – one that Eddie wasn’t all that sure he was going to get. Happy with that small crumb, Eddie’s smile widens.

“Cool, you’ll like it here. I’ve been working behind this desk since college. Loved every second of it.”

His comment is met with silence that lingers so long Eddie thinks his new friend is done with the conversation. He’s about to grab at his pencil again when that deep voice sounds off.

“Maybe you’re right. It’s really quiet. I like that.” The man pauses for a second, takes Eddie in. His hazel eyes roam over Eddie’s face and down until he sees the drawing on the desk. For an instant, those eyes widen, but the moment is gone long before Eddie can process it.

“I’ll let you get back to your work, Mr. Munson. Sorry again about the interruption.”

Shrinking back at the name, Eddie calls out immediately – “It’s Eddie. Please, call me Eddie.”

Though the man doesn’t verbally respond or outwardly acknowledge Eddie’s request, there’s a short little nod before the squeaking of the cart sounds again and the enigma of a man is gone as quickly as he came.

Over the next couple of weeks, Eddie changes his routine in hope of bumping into their new custodian again. He walks the halls every couple of hours during the day to see if the man works while the rest of his crew does, but never finds him. He then stays a little later, lingering in his office until the call of food or a television show or plain boredom has him collecting his bags to head off for the night.

Eventually, Eddie’s enigma makes another appearance. This time, though, Eddie is not prepared for him. He’s been curled up into the sanctuary of his arm, napping soundly, since his last meeting. They ripped apart his drawing and asked for something completely different than what Eddie had been picturing. The game isn’t even out yet and Eddie is over it. The headache that sets in kicks his ass, making the call of the flat of his desk so very enticing. He doesn’t know he’s fallen asleep until the door kicks open and he’s blinking awake.

“Shit, I did it again. I’ve been saving your office for last every day, trying not to disturb you on your late nights. Sorry, Mr. – Eddie. I don’t mean to disturb you.”

Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, Eddie stops him before he can go. “Wait! You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind the interruption. It’s probably needed. I’m spending way too much time here, anyway.”

With an invitation to stay, the guy doesn’t take off like the rocket he had just been trying to become. Instead, he lingers in the doorway, eyes roaming over Eddie again. Since they’re staring at one another, Eddie doesn’t disguise his desire to look back.

This time, Eddie notices a thin little mustache that covers red and probably delectable lips. They’re plump and forming words that Eddie is obviously missing out on. He clues back in just in time to catch the tail end.

“ – my friend’s son loves Epic Kids. I get so many more cool points now because I know one of the artists.”

Eddie is glad he managed to tune back into reality – catching that compliment makes the rest of his shitty day seem insignificant. Epic Kids is his pet project, one he’s much more interested in than the stupid game pitch still haunting him from his desk. Though, Eddie is unsure how the man before him knows about his involvement. He hasn’t had a new project for the show cross his desk since they first met.

“How did you know I worked on that show?”

The man smiles then, his lips (they are absolutely kissable, Eddie just knows it) quirk into a knowing grin. For the first time since Eddie encountered him, there’s a sign of life outside of trash cans and a grumpy demeanor.

“That first night I barged in, you were working on a doodle that ended up in yesterday’s show. After Lucas finished up the episode, I watched through the credits. Eddie Munson, Storyboard Editor, is pretty hard to miss.”

“It’s kind of unfair you know my name and I don’t know yours,” Eddie petulantly says before he can stop himself. Though, it’s not a bad thing because the man laughs, genuinely chuckles, and points to the embroidered name on the left side of his tacky blue jumpsuit.

“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

Eddie’s cheeks heat up for some reason, as if access to a name gives him so much more. While it’s just a title to call the hot man that roams the halls at night, Eddie sees the vulnerability as something more. An obvious door has been opened and he’s timidly excited to step through it.

Steve becomes a regular fixture after that. It’s easy for him to wheel his cart into Eddie’s office at the end of the night and make conversation while he goes about his duties. Eddie draws or sits in his chair listening intently to everything Steve’s got to say. He learns about the man’s found family and his platonic soulmate who also doubles as a roommate whenever she’s in town. The connection they have is something that should be cherished, despite only being nurtured for a handful of minutes the nights Eddie can force himself to stay late enough.

There is, of course, an easy fix. Eddie isn’t one to actively pursue another person, especially when he’s not quite sure about their interest. Steve, it seems, is the exception to every rule that Eddie’s ever put into place, however. Their time together is too nice not to extend it past the walls of his workplace. Never mind the fact that Eddie is more than excited by the prospect of Steve in anything but the ugly blue uniform he’s forced to wear. The man is beautiful, Eddie sees that through and through. Something tells him, though, that Steve has lots of potential outside of navy blue.

He bids his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself. It’s a Thursday night and Steve is already talking about the weekend. He has yet to mention Friday night, however, so Eddie takes that as his chance.

“What about Friday? Are you free? There’s this joint in town I’ve been dying to try out, thought you might like to come.”

Eddie waits with bated breath as Steve blinks a few times behind his thick lenses. He goes about putting the trashcan back in its spot, even replaces the bag before looking in Eddie’s direction.

“Uh, yeah. That – that sounds good. I haven’t been out with adults I didn’t grow up with in ages. I think I’d really like that.”

It takes a massive amount of effort for Eddie not to happily jump up from his chair. His fist is tingling with the need to thrust itself into the air in triumph, but Eddie keeps control. After finally securing some extra time with Steve, the last thing Eddie wants to do is muck it up by being over eager or worse – immature with his excitement.

It seems, however, that Steve is just as excited. Pink overtakes his cheeks and a smile that Eddie’s never seen before stretches those gorgeous lips wide. And while he’s not making eye contact with Eddie at all, Steve sneakily glances in his direction time and time again as he finishes up.

Eddie feels like he’s back in high school again, fumbling over his first crush. It’s a glorious thing, experiencing freedom like that after the fickle mundaneness of adulthood.

----

As expected, Steve is an absolute dream out of uniform. The yellow polo Steve’s wearing makes the hazel in his eyes stand out beyond belief. His blue jeans are tight in all the right areas, enhancing thighs and ass like navy blue fabric never could. Eddie has to physically close his mouth upon first glance, lest he starts drooling before the date actually gets started.

Thankfully, Steve spots him across the weird little bar and makes a beeline in Eddie’s direction. The space they’re in is an eclectic little place that serves beer while it’s patrons play mini golf on the two courses out back. It’s one of the coolest things Eddie has seen – he desperately hopes this little place won’t be the last of such an interesting idea.

Everyone around them looks to be enjoying themselves, either way.

Glad for that knowledge and reassurane, Eddie makes quick work of getting them both a drink and the things they need to play the first course. Steve is slightly stiff as they start but loosens up by the third hole.

Now that they’re not in the noisy bar and the party before them is a couple holes ahead, Steve relaxes. He starts to shoot better and actually takes a couple pulls of his drink. It’s a relief because Eddie already thought he blew it.

As it turns out, Steve is just a man with a little social anxiety. When it’s just the two of them, Eddie gets so much from Steve. He talks about his family the most, the little brother (who’s not actually a ‘real’ sibling, though Steve counts him as one) that’s been a pain in his ass most of Steve’s life, the niece and nephew he spoils incessantly. It’s a beautiful thing to experience a person so dedicated to the people around them.

Eddie tries to reciprocate by telling him about art school and the program he did throughout. He talks about the children’s book he wants to write, despite never spilling the beans of that to anyone else in the entire world. Uncle Wayne doesn’t even know the plot of Eddie’s dream work. For some reason, Eddie can’t stop himself from speaking so earnestly to Steve. It doesn’t hurt, however, that Steve is pretty candid with his words, too.

The only thing that Steve doesn’t talk about is himself. After the first date and then the second, Eddie chalks it up to nerves and taking things slow. He’s in deep already, so the change in pace is a welcome thing.

Except, it keeps happening the longer they’re together. Two dates turns to two months of dating, two months of Steve avoiding questions, two months of them never once setting foot in Steve’s apartment. Admittedly, the lack of personal details is a little off putting. Though, Eddie is eager enough to see where things might go with Steve that he pushes all of that aside. One day, one day really soon, Steve will open up.

It eventually happens, just not in the way Eddie ever thought it would.

For the first time in their entire relationship, Steve’s walking him towards his door. Well, he’s backing Eddie up against it because they can’t keep their hands off each other. Between their intense connection and the chemistry that runs rampant, Eddie’s been edging himself, waiting for this very moment. It’s a little much now that it’s happening but Eddie’s here for it, eager and willing, too. So much so that he doesn’t question Steve leaving off lights as they stumble inside.

Despite the time it took them to get here, Steve is anything but patient and inexperienced. He doesn’t fumble or miss buttons in the darkness of the room. His accurate attack gets Eddie out of his clothes in record time.

Instead of taking off his own, however, Steve immediately drops to his knees, eager hands finding Eddie’s cock without struggle. Long fingers wrap around the base while Steve’s other hand drops to Eddie’s balls. He rolls them at the same time the wetness of his mouth sucks in the head of Eddie’s cock. It’s so glorious, Eddie can do nothing but thread his fingers through Steve’s hair and pull him closer.

The suction is so good that Eddie has to dig the nails of his free hand into the fleshy skin of his palm. Drawing blood is the only thing stopping Eddie from shooting down Steve’s throat but it’s all too good to make him stop. At least, Eddie thinks that until the end is actually imminent. Then, he tugs on Steve’s hair, pulling him off as gently as possible.

“You’re way too good at that. Care for a little something more?” Eddie asks as Steve stands up from his spot on the ground. There’s a smile on his face, though Eddie barely recognizes it in the dark. He thinks to ask about the light but bypasses the urge – if Steve wanted them on, he would’ve flipped the switch as he passed.

Knowing that, Eddie is a little surprised that Steve takes off his clothes at all. Usually when a person liked to keep the lights off, they liked to keep their clothes on, too. Steve, it seems, is filled with contradictory worries and triggers. He sheds his clothes in the same manner he disrobed Eddie. It’s efficient and quick and soon, they’re both standing in front of each other naked as can be.

Steve doesn’t give Eddie much time to take him in. That self-conscious air is back, despite Steve covering it up by sliding his body on top of Eddie’s on the mattress. They fit together so well it’s difficult to keep up with anything at all aside slick slide of Steve’s hips as he grinds down against Eddie. Their cocks are both wet with pre-cum that makes each brush of their pelvises an electric thing. Eddie is already done in – he’s not sure how much more he can take.

There must be precognition in Steve’s life because he moves away from Eddie right as he thinks that. It’s both a torture and relief, one that’s only made better by Steve shifting his body so he can dig into the bedside table for a condom and some lube. The triumphant little noise he makes is kind of nice, too. It reorients Eddie back to the real reason they’re taking each other apart. He loves Steve. Steve loves him. Coming together like this is the ultimate culmination of their feelings for each other.

That thought echoes in Eddie’s head while Steve lubes up a finger, then leaves a dollop of the cool liquid on Eddie’s hip for later. When that finger breaches him, Eddie lets Steve project his love into him, feeling complete for the first time since things started between them. It’s satisfying and dizzyingly delicious.

Steve is very good at the things he’s doing to Eddie. His fingers take no time at all to find Eddie’s prostate. They nail the bundle of nerves tirelessly before not touching it again for many minutes on end, despite more digits coming to the party.

Eventually, three fingers barely skim against it by the time Steve’s getting antsy for more. Eddie too is right there with him.

“I’m good, Steve. I’m good. I need you, baby.”

A soft chuckle slips from Steve’s lips that are pressed against Eddie’s neck. While hands fumble between them, Steve kisses and nips little marks into soft skin, distracting them both from the lurid slip of a condom down Steve’s cock. Eventually a hard tip presses against Eddie’s entrance and the softest of whispers echoes in his head.

“I’ve got you, Eds. I’ve got you,” Steve mumbles, his words laced with lust and want and anticipation that reaches a peak as Steve finally presses inside.

It’s so difficult to keep his composure, Eddie doesn’t even try. He yells out a loud “fuck” that sits in the room with them. While Steve draws back and thrusts forward, Eddie clings to him. He runs his hands over Steve’s back and sides, tracing lines of something like scarring from one side of his torso to the other. If he was thinking straight, Eddie would’ve taken that all into account. Instead, he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and lets the man drop even more weight upon him, distracting Eddie further.

When the end comes creeping near, Steve’s head is tucked into Eddie’s neck, his harsh breath like a tsunami’s wind. Eddie is hanging on the precipice, already able to cum for minutes now. He’s clutching to that edge just to make sure he tumbles off at the same time Steve does. It only takes a handful of thrusts and a cleverly placed bite of Steve’s teeth right above Eddie’s collarbone for both boys to free fall into the unknown abyss of immaculate pleasure.

Eddie must black out because the next time he blinks back to consciousness, there’s light streaming through Steve’s windows. There are curtains but each one is pulled back, letting in the light.

It’s then that Eddie sees them, the reasons behind Steve’s need to keep the lights off in front of Eddie. There are scars everywhere that Eddie can see. Some are long and thin while others look like something tried to take a bite out of Steve’s skin. The flesh is red and raised, though healed completely all the same. Eddie wants to reach out and touch but he refrains. Intimacy is a gift he doesn’t want to give away. Misplacing Steve’s trust in him is not at all what Eddie wants to do.

Already, it’s too late, though. Steve turns slightly, revealing more of the scars on his chest and neck. There’s a long line around his throat that Eddie is surprised he’s never noticed. It obviously hides well under all the clothes Steve wears. This time, he doesn’t tamp down the urge. His fingers brush up against Steve’s neck on their own accord.

“What happened, Steve?” Eddie’s eyes are welling up with tears. He can’t decide if he’s mad at whatever did this or overwhelmed with the need to care for the man before him. That must be clear – Steve doesn’t draw away or try to hide. He rolls over completely and pulls Eddie into his arms.

“It’s – really hard to explain,” Steve starts, his hand idly running up and down Eddie’s sides as they cuddle. “The town I grew up in, Hawkins – it made the news a bunch of times a few years ago.”

Sensing some familiarity, Eddie wracks his brain, trying to remember but New York is a long way away from Indiana. He still nods his head, willing Steve to go on.

“Some crazy stuff went down that you probably won’t believe. In the end, I took a beating to make sure my family got to see another day. I got… taken and the things that were trying to tear Hawkins apart, they did this to me. A couple times over.”

Steve’s a little breathless when he finishes. Despite not sharing all that many details, Eddie knows whatever he just purged from Steve is a lot. It’s something that’s stricken him down in unimaginable ways.

For all it’s worth, Eddie leans further into Steve, dragging him in a little closer. He doesn’t know what to say but that seems to be okay. Steve wraps him up tighter and lets the easy silence settle between them. Without noticing, both drift off again.

Between a nap and another round of amazing sex a while later, Eddie is famished when they eventually resurface to go about the rest of the day.

Steve volunteered to cook so Eddie wanders around the apartment. He takes in the comic books and CDs. There are toys in a box in a corner and a big tv box tucked into a nice looking stand. It’s simple and nice and totally not what Eddie expected at all.

Neither is the master’s degree Eddie sees hanging from the wall.

“Steve, you went to college? For longer than the mandatory four years?” Eddie’s voice is high, the shock clearly coming through.

Steve comes bounding around the corner, a spatula still in his hand. “What are you screaming about in here?”

Eddie takes a long breath and then another. He looks at the diploma on the wall and then back at Steve. “You never said you were a college boy.”

Laughing lightly, Steve shrugs his shoulders. “You never asked.”

“But – “ Eddie starts, his face flushing. The mere thought is too much. How can he ever say the words?

Steve, of course, beats him to it. “But what? But I’m a janitor? You know, Eddie – that’s pretty narrow minded of you.” The words hold no malice, despite the tone of Steve’s voice.

“I don’t like people or crowds. I have PTSD from all the trauma in my teens. Offices and university campuses are the Mecca of loud noises and large masses of other humans. Instead of putting myself into danger, I work a slow job that fits my complexities. It’s exactly what I need, Eddie. Kind of like you.”

The last sentence is enough to make Eddie’s head spin. He for sure thought he was getting a lecture where in fact he gets the opposite.

Steve strides towards his bookcase a determined look in his eye. He searches and skims his fingers over book spines until the right one is in his hands. “Read this. You might understand things a little better. I always told anyone who asked that the events weren’t real but they are. Everything I wrote down in that book is what me and my friends went through. All of it.”

Steve taps the top, looking directly at Eddie. “Read it, don’t read it. If you’re curious about me, you’ll find a lot of what you want to know between those pages.”

All the sudden, Eddie remembers where he heard the name Hawkins before, where he’d even been privy to Steve’s name prior to them meeting. Looking down at the book in his hands, Eddie distinctly remembers demogorgons and bats with tails that stung and ripped and tore. Quickly, Eddie riffled through the pages in order to get to the back cover.

There, in all his gorgeous glory, was Steve Harrington, not at all smiling at the camera. Reading into the bio, Eddie ticked off all the educational credentials that Steve has. Two master’s and a prestigious scholarship from the university he used to teach at. Despite himself, Eddie is surprised, yet not all at the same time.

Instead of continuing to read through the book in hopes of finding out more details, Eddie closes it and puts it back on the shelf where Steve found it. Sucking in a long breath, Eddie nods, then goes to join Steve in the kitchen. Now that the cats out of the bag, Eddie thinks he might enjoy learning more about his boyfriend strictly from the source himself.

As Eddie settles himself against Steve’s back, he allows himself to relax. Steve’s mystery is one Eddie can’t wait to pick apart. Until the clues lay themselves out for him, however, Eddie’s content to hold onto Steve tight and see where the road leads them. It’s too easy to be enraptured by a man that holds his hand while flipping pancakes with the other.

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers as the breakfast making commotion calms down.

Steve doesn’t ask him what he’s thankful for or demand an explanation. He simply pulls Eddie close and silently finishes breakfast.

Slow and steady.

Absolutely perfect in every way.

tag list (message if you'd like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, @writer-in-theory

[kikunai]

3, 6, and 12 for the artist ask game! :D

3. your favorite piece(s)?

in terms of technicality (ie sheer skills showoff) its this one

fuck i really liked the composition. and it gave me the opportunity to use my 10000 fancy csp brushes

but in terms of content its this scuffed shitpost

it was for an art exchange event last year and i drew it for a writer whose one of the series is an office comedy with an almost defunct company (?) and god awful people. there were 0 canon visuals for them so i took the chance to make designs for the goobers based on pure vibes from the text (sticking some of the descriptions the author gave me ofc)

and they liked it! i take it as a massive W even its basically a shitpost.

6. favorite thing to draw?

doodling stick figures doing various poses, random body parts, etc. actually u can include food in the list but i. dont really go to fancy restaurants so its hard for me to find inspirations

12. describe your process while drawing

when i draw something i already have the approximate image of the product in my mind (most of the time), and if i dont its hard to motivate myself to complete it cause i dont know where the finishing line is. with that being said i dont make strict plans, let the vibes guide me, and do researches along the way. after the raw painting is done i do post-editing on pc (csp for gradient maps, photopea for colour adjustments), and if necessary id run glaze or nightshade (let it run overnight, im surprised my laptop hasnt been burnt down yet), and done!

[ ask game ]

[grad604-kannonhen]

mid sem objects 3

The two art books:

Tekkonkinkreet art book Shiro:

Tekkonkinkreet is an animation film by Studio 4C, original manga by Taiyo Matsumoto. I was gifted this book for my 18th birthday by my mother and younger sister. The Shiro (meaning white in Japanese, also being the name of one of the main characters) version showcases the background art used in the final movie. Background art of animation movies, particularly hand-drawn ones, has always been one of my core artistic inspirations starting from Studio Ghibli. It has always been a dream of mine to collect art books and this is the first ever one I owned which already makes it incredibly special for me. Tekkonkinkreet has won many awards, one of which is the Japan Academy Prize for Animation of the Year; it incorporates hand-drawn illustrations combined with 3D technology which creates immersive camera movements while keeping the tactile quality of hand-drawn background. The artwork of Tekkonkinkreet stunned me and has affected my creative eye. The old nostalgic broken down cityscape and the density of the place are inspired by actual location in Japan and is depicted in the fictional reality, realistic fiction. It reminds me of the Tokyo Chaotic style named by Perimetron.

Tekkonkinkreet art book Kuro:

I was gifted the Kuro(meaning black in Japanese, the name of the other main character) version this year for my 20th birthday. The Kuro version showcases more of the behind-the-scenes works like the storyboarding process and initial sketches done by the art director of the film, Shinji Kimura. After having looked through the Shiro version first, looking at the sketches that came before all that deepens the world-building and makes it even more immersive. As a viewer we rarely ever get a chance to see the storyboarding process or initial sketches so it was a special experience for me.

Drawing tablets:

Wacom drawing tablet:

Wacom is a Japanese company famous for creating drawing tablets, founded in 1983 having its head office in Saitama prefecture Japan. This is the first ever drawing tablet I bought for myself. It's the smallest size sold from Wacom and honestly, it isn't the easiest thing to use, but it still is special for me because it is what enabled me to start digital drawing. Digital drawing as a medium was a complete change from the traditional paintings and analogue drawings that I did throughout my life up until then, and it has influenced my interest in Japanese internet culture. It led to me looking through many artists online with the same practice and learning from their beautiful works. It was also a tool that was essential for creating some university projects like the concertina or the awareness campaign. It is a beginning and an end to certain chapters of my creative journey and as crucial key object for the development of my illustration practice.

XP-Pen display drawing tablet:

The display drawing tablet was an upgrade from the small tablet. I only got this last year and it was a major turning point in my illustration process and workflow as well as my mindset as a creative. I used to not take illustration very seriously and was only little doodles on the side of school work I didn't want to do, thus why I spent a minimum amount of money for the smallest tablet available. However, as I drew more and more, like any other creative person, I started seeing my limits and lack of technique or skill. I abandoned drawing all the time, and I still do, but purchasing this large tablet marks a change in my efforts and the significance of illustration within myself that it's a good equipment that I own so I must use it up to its potential.

[artistthetravel]

Art collection name > search In t. Eyehearitwad the start of a Portfolio.. another hey steal my idea make a app no limit add on with video audio pics for artists and make it a portfolio... watch out for hacking editing stealers taking painting making smaller

[naachikko]

Long time no see! (Part 3)

Glad to have you back! And if you are new! Get comfy because I'm going to nerd about a lot of what i drew, sketch and doodle last few months!

(if you don't wanna read that much its fine too!)

Well! Time to catch up!

May 20th: "a new header for twitter"

My twitter header was kinda.......rough looking, and for here? I literally got nothing! So! I planned on doing a little throwback to a little thing a did around the start of my artistic adventure! ... Nachiko sleeping on a bus.

Real creative, i know. lol.

May 31th: "got my stuff working away"

For some reason i don't remember right now, my paypal wasn't... connecting with my [bank account]. I tried again and again to make things work but for some reason things failed... Miserably... Again and again. Until someone named Iraham managed to help my case and got everything working alright!

I was so happy i jumped right away in to animating this.

Jun 5th: "i got in to Limbus Company"

I am what can be considered a big fan of Lobotomy Corporation (i suck ass playing it but i really love the story), then, they released Library of Ruina, i loved that even more! But now I'm sad because it's the only game on the (somewhat) trilogy they have that isn't reduced to LC. Because the third game it's called Limbus Company!! ... Anyways, i tried to study the shading and overall style of the game with an OC of mine called Amelie a.k.a. Mime Lady!

I didn't said i succeeded with the study, right?

Jun 7th: "patreon art sketchs + Pride Month"

Hey! I have a patreon! And a discord for patreon exclusive stuff! (Patreon made weird changes and I can't keep posting like before, hence why i use more the discord for that kind of stuff).

Anyways, one of the patreon perks has to do with designing an OC and implementing them in to the world of Nachiko... And for some reason i made two of the patreon users but Nachiko. Just 'cause.

Also, someone requested Wrath (Nachiko's alt self) and Nachiko to do the goku thing and so i drew ... something similar-ish.

Also Pride Month happened! Yay! Pride month! Love to yall LGBTQ+ homies! Here! Have a Natato comic that it's straight up a popular meme for pride month 2023 for no reason! (But still! Love yall!)

Jun 11th - 12th: "THE BIG ONE!"

remember this shitty map i made for Nachiko's world?

It's better now...

With it's release, it came with a patreon exclusive document relating briefly the history of Grën'Jorn Kingdom and how their economy shaked the world.

Why? Because a patreon user wanted to know about the world's economy and boy oh boy! I HAD to do it!

There is also a spanish version of the document just because.lol.

And that is the image limit of Tumblr allows me to post so! I'll see ya in part two!

Till then!

Remember to enjoy and have a nice day!

[liyawritesss]

Hii how are you 💖 I was wondering if I could please request Headcannons or anything that's easier for you of Bakugou & Tamaki (or just Bakugou) with a s/o that writes poetry & draws but hasn't told them & they see it and they're woow🤯gn or fem is okay feel free to ignore & ofc take as much time as you need 🥰🤗

ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜱ/ᴏ

Pairing: TEEN!Bakugo Katsuki/Amajiki Tamaki x TEEN!Black!GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff Headcanons

Synopsis: Bakugo and Tamaki react to finding out their s/o is a patron of the arts!

Warnings: 1st Year!Bakugo/Reader and 3rd Year!Tamaki/reader, anxiety mention

A/N: I always love artistic!reader tropes because art is one of very few healthy ways to express emotion, and I myself have a very personal attachment to it. I hope you enjoy this, I haven't written for tamaki in a while so thank you for the refresher!!!

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ

It happens when you head to the bathroom during a study session for an upcoming exam

The usually irritated boy is just tapping on his notebook, waiting for you to return when his eyes glance over to the unkept mass of journals you have set aside your bed

He’s aware that you doodle sometimes, he sees you doing so in class and has scolded you for doing it during instructional time before.

He noticed that one is open and, in curiosity, picks it up from its place atop the pile of journals

Its a very detailed drawing, one that brings a hum of intrigue from his throat

It's him, oddly enough. Its a side profile portrait, and he’s guessing you drew it in class one time when Aizawa permitted a ‘free day’ because normally he gives detailed lectures so fast, if you blink you’d miss important test information

He doesn’t confront you about it right away about it, but after the test is done and you’re relieved you passed, he does say quite the interesting remark

“Maybe if you stopped drawing me in class you wouldn’t need last minute help for a test,”

ᴀᴍᴀᴊɪᴋɪ ᴛᴀᴍᴀᴋɪ

Tamaki likes to immerse himself in things that remind him of you when you’re away on internships at your primary hero company

So it’s common he slithers his way into your room in the middle of the night to snuggle in your blankets after a night terror

You have a lot of books littering your room in massive piles in every corner, so he tends to read them from time to time

He accidentally comes across an open journal that he assumes is another one of your many books. Your handwriting is so neat and pretty to him that sometimes he confuses it for actual book print, and he ends of reading a few of the poems in said journal

The flow of the words and the stories - or the idea of uncovering one - drew him in so much that the normally anxious boy didn’t even notice you enter your dorm room after being released from your internship

Tamaki was so cute, nose deep in your journal without a care in the world, you thought it cruel to disturb his peace and decided to do your unwinding routine while he stayed handsome and intrigued on your bed

After a quick wash and a change of clothes you came back to Tamaki still reading your journal, perhaps mumbling to himself but you were too tired to strain your ears

You crawled into the bed next to him, the sudden sip in the mattress startling Tamaki, but when he felt your familiar hand slide into the locks of his hair and pull his head into your chest, he relaxed almost instantly.

Its not until the next day that he asks you about the book he was reading the night prior, wanting to borrow it to read over once more. You tell that what he was reading was your journal and, upon this new information, Tamaki babbled out apologies for invading your private book, and even promises not to read any more of your books for fear of stumbling upon another private journal

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send a request!

[tendermiasma]

i’m not even into overwatch anymore but i just wanted to say I ADORE your art style and hope to develop my own into a similar semi-realism leaning...have you made a post about your art journey? I’m assuming I just need to buckle down and do anatomy studies but any tips are very welcome!! Ty for your time <3

Oh man thank you! I’ve never made a comprehensive post about how I got to *gestures* whatever this point in my art this is, and I definitely sat here wondering what “art journey” means for me since I always feel like I’m stumbling around so I’ll answer as completely as I can. But a great way to develop a realism-minded eye is to draw from photos and life. Everyone in the world has said it over and over but it really gets it done, it’s not any more complicated than that. It’s how I started when I was little and it’s not something I planned, but the Legolas posters were right there so how could I not? Your own non-realism “stylistic” touch will bubble up whether you want it to or not and that’s a beautiful thing. It’s not something you need to look for because it happens on its own, whether it’s you seeing something another artist is doing that you like and assimilating it into your work, or it’s your own unique way that you absorb information from the world and use it to solve problems in the drawing in front of you. Some new artists also still have the idea that using references is cheating-- I’m not blaming them, sometimes this weird thing is circulated by more established people as well-- but this is a very small minority. Please use references. I’d be lost without them. The Castlevania team has a giant collection of references for faces of every character from every angle, props, etc. and I always have a second screen up with 10 different sheets of whoever I’m drawing. Feeding yourself info is essential to getting better. Look at how other artists handle something you’re having a problem with too. If they’re doing a similar pose or something, study their drawing and ask yourself what specifically, extremely technically about that drawing is convincing-- what marks are where, and what is the quality or direction of the strokes? Try it out on your own drawing. If you’re stuck, become aware of if you’re holding on too tightly to what you think something should look like. I have to remind myself this as well. Really try to let go of the idea you have in your head about how something works and simply try instead to draw what you see, even if it feels weird. The results are often pleasantly surprising. 

I have a funny relationship with studies. You seem to be looking at them like a chore and I feel the same way. It’s impossible for me to sit down and just draw something over and over, disconnected from emotion or a larger narrative. I think a wonderful way to “study” is to incorporate those studies into a project that you wanted to do anyway. I’ve used my minicomics to get better at background painting or specific figure poses that I needed for the story but wasn’t sure how to do. I’m a very “oops I need it now better learn TODAY” kind of artist, if that suits you better than buckling down and doing anatomy studies for hours. Both are great ways to improve, but you have options for how to get there. 

In terms of how much time I spend drawing.. well lol it’s a lot. I almost typed “but I don’t do it every day” but yes, my jobs have made sure that I do (I tend to separate personal drawing and job drawing). But the truth is, to get better, a lot of very focused drawing time is important; how much of it is up to you and your schedule. You can sit down for 6 hours and doodle or you can sit down for 3 with an extremely critical eye. It’s about the volume of time as well as focus and I don’t have a clear answer for it, but I can point to one specific year in my life where I made artistic progress like I’ve never seen from myself since. I drew a comic with regular updates during that time and, looking back, the art was not good. But the point was, I was drawing for 7 hours a day after work, at least 5 days a week, and actively looking to draw things that I hadn’t done before or knew that I wasn’t good at, and the result was that every single update was almost like it was drawn by a different person-- readers noticed and commented on the progress as well. It was very much an art bootcamp and I wouldn’t have the skills I do at this point if I hadn’t done it. It’s important that you’re loving what you do if you do it for yourself! That’s how you get through big projects and continue to be excited with where you are. Love is one of the most important motivators and discipline-keepers in art, in my experience. Draw what sets your brain on fire and attack it wholeheartedly even if it’s really weird or niche, not what you think you should be drawing, and you’ll improve a million times faster.

Art journey in terms of what I’ve done with my life (if this is what you meant from the beginning I’M SORRY I’m just trying everything you might have meant) uhhh I haven’t been to art school. I have no idea what my relationship with art would be like now if I’d had any formal training and I don’t really dwell on it. I could either be a testament to being able to get by without it or an example of someone who has no idea what she’s doing at all and lacks many basic foundational art skills. I have an architecture degree. I love architecture, I love the language of space we build for ourselves, and I’m truly, deeply glad for that eye-opening and often grueling experience, but I think my current field is a much better fit. Before animation I worked as a graphic designer mainly drawing storyboards for commercials and internal-industry stuff-- lots and lots of quick colored sketches (one of our main clients was a big glass company and my god I never thought I’d draw so much glass in my life). I was able to do that job due to the skills I developed through personal work. Maybe I’d be a hundred times more powerful if I went to art school! Maybe I’d be completely burned out and bitter and not drawing anymore at all! I just don’t know. I have friends who have had both experiences. Whether you choose art school or not it’s best to keep tabs on if the art you’re currently making brings you joy. Joy and struggle aren’t mutually exclusive. Oftentimes I’m drawing something I care deeply about but it’s VERY FUCKING HARD and I’m frustrated but it’s worth it.

I also do everything while being very scared of the thing. I have a lot of deep-seated anxiety that I’m constantly trying to root out and my brain compulsively twists things around into why I can’t do something, why people secretly know I’m below-par and are just too nice to tell me, how I’m “tricking” people into thinking I’m better than I am, etc. It’s so bad that my first thought when I was initially offered the art test for my current job was to say no; not because I didn’t want it so badly it hurt, but because I thought I’d be too much of a disappointment.  After completing the test I spent an hour figuring out the most gracious way to apologize for not being enough. It’s common, but not something to accept and we’re all working on it. I just thought it was important to mention because art is also a mental journey and forces you to do all this navel-gazey shit in order to advance, and feeling like you are Not Enough is rife in the creative community. The work feels entangled with my value as a person because art is a massive part of my life. Something I’m learning is that I don’t have to be confident or sure of myself all the time. This ensures that the process is usually painful and frightening. Often there’s no way to make it less painful or frightening, and I just have to hold my breath and do it. An oddly comforting thing to me the past couple years is to remind myself that the scary thing I’m about to do won’t be the scariest thing I’ll ever do. I implies both that this isn’t the pinnacle of my progress and also that I will inevitably get over it. If you continue with art you’re going to run into things like this and I guess if it was me it would’ve been helpful to know I’m not alone in it.

I hope that maybe answered some of your questions, maybe? If you have some specific questions feel free and I’ll try my best. Hope you have a good day/night!

[itsamejin]

this love || yoongi angst

Summary: A story through the years detailing your relationship with Yoongi and all the ups and downs that came with dating an idol. 

Warning: cursing, sexually suggestive content

Genre: angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn

Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader

Premise: Based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift. Reader is an artist.

Commission Request: @minyoongail​

Word Count: 7,681 words

—

You met Yoongi when he was just a trainee, ready to take on the world and bursting with energy to get on stage. He had visions of grandeur- him living in a beautiful mansion, wearing name-brand jewelry, cruising in rare sports vehicles. When times were simpler, he’d promise that you’d be there with him, indulging in the glitz and glamour that came with his fame. He’d be an idol and you’d be his muse. Yet under all those pretenses, under all those empty promises, he was just Yoongi.

He was a guy who walked in and out of your life as easily as ocean tides come and go on the shore. He taught you how to fall in love, fall out of it, and rekindle it all the same. It was a sort of beautiful asphyxiation, being wrapped up in his lifestyle and learning to accept the consequences that came with dating a celebrity.

You wonder even now as you search his name on the internet, if you had any regrets. After all, you lost too much to be with him.

—

April 2013

A first meeting meant everything to you, especially when it came to your clients. You didn’t accept jobs from weirdos who didn’t respect your craft and you definitely hated impatient ones who badgered you to finish your pieces as quick as possible.

Big Hit was a happy medium and had hired you as a contract employee after reviewing your portfolio. Although the style of work they wanted from you was not at all what you specialized in, you were happy that they treated you like an actual employee and not some sort of machine. Plus, the pay was good.

You were asked to work on some cute animal characters for an upcoming boy group that you weren’t terribly familiar with, maybe stumbled on a vlog of theirs that you forgot about. You were intrigued by the slew of trainees that sat in front of you, their palms clenched out of anxiousness.

“I’m [Y/N], one of the digital artists that will be working with you guys from now on,” you introduce yourself politely to the seven bright-eyed boys in front of you.

You were in a room with other staff members, discussing the concept of the “Hip Hop Monsters” your graphics team was working on. This was a planned project lasting over a span of years and would eventually result in collectors edition items. It made you giddy just thinking of the royalties you’d earn from it all.

“I’d like it if the animals took after us,” one of the boys suggested shyly, slightly intimidated by the large number of corporate employees there were in the room for something that seemed so trivial. “I think our fans would like the characters more if they kind of resembled our personalities and stuff...”

You nod along to his suggestions, staring at his jersey to notice that the member who spoke up was Rap Monster. It was cute how they all wore clothes with their names on them. That’s one way to attract attention, you suppose.

“Any other suggestions you guys have for us?” you ask, jotting down notes and making rough sketches as they talk amongst themselves.

“I’d like it if,” a somewhat husky voice starts and you can’t help but stare into the guy’s eyes as he speaks, “my character was a turtle.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter along with the other staff members. He had said it with such a straight face and with so little enthusiasm, yet you could tell from his slight blush that he was serious. He was cute in the way that he wasn’t trying to be.

“You resemble one,” you grin at him, drawing out a small turtle with a cute beanie on your iPad, like the one he wore in front of you. You show it to him. “Something like this?”

“Exactly that!”

He breaks out into a gummy smile, one so bright that it hurt your heart to stare at him for too long. Now you were the one left flustered. He realizes how enthusiastic he was and got embarrassed once again, scratching the back of his head to avoid eye-contact.

“S-sorry, for shouting. It looks good.”

You bite your lip from forming too big of a grin. You still had to remain professional after all.

“You’re welcome,” you smirk slightly as he goes back to trying to look cool. You can’t help but doodle his name on your iPad even as the other members shared ideas for their own animals.

Suga, Suga, Suga.

You smile to yourself. It does have a ring to it.

—

June 2013

Yoongi sees you in the hallways sometimes and wants to say hi, but he can’t because other people are watching. Though, that isn’t the only reason.

He tells himself every day that he’ll muster up the courage to go talk to you, but every time he sees your face his legs turn to jelly. Yoongi was busy with debut stages recently, but he found some free time in his schedule to approach you.

Yoongi was never the shy type, more reserved if anything else, but you had something that enamored him- intrigued him. He wanted to know who you were other than the cute girl he was stuck in meetings with from time to time.

As you sat there on your desk, Yoongi lingered in an area nearby. He would give you his number today and if things didn’t work out then that would be that. There was no need to be all shy about this; it’s not like this is his first time asking someone out.

He strides over to you with feigned confidence and you look up after a minute, not noticing how his shadow loomed over you. He sees that you’re working on realistic portraits of the members and not the cutesy characters he usually sees you drawing.

“Hi,” he says curtly, trying to seem disinterested though he was the one that approached you first.

“Hello,” you smile up at him.

Suga.

“You draw really cool stuff,” he says to break the awkward tension. “You should show it to the CEO. I’m sure we’d have cooler concepts for our albums with your work.”

You look up at him, a happy glint in your eyes. He was complimenting you, although avoiding eye contact to seem a little less nervous than he really was.

“Well, I’m just a contract worker so I don’t think I really have the authority to start up new projects out of nowhere,” you say with a smile on your face at how flustered he looks. “I feel like you’re here to ask me for something. Am I right?”

He looks away for a split second, coughing to alleviate his nerves. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, why was this so difficult?

“I was actually wondering if you could come give me some opinions about some art that I drew,” he lies through his teeth, just trying to find a way to get you in a more private area than the corporate floor teaming with watchful gazes. “I’ve been trying to start a new hobby.”

You chuckle slightly, seeing right through his words. You stand up to amuse him.

“I’d be happy to.”

He leads you to a studio filled with whacky knick-knacks and dim lighting, not necessarily the best place to draw. You know by now that he just said those things as an excuse to be alone with you.

“So where’s this masterpiece?” you tease slightly at his nervous expression. How did a guy who looked so deadpan have such a giddy personality?

“Well actually,” he starts off, palms already sweaty. “I-It’s not here right now, but I think I left it at the dorms. Maybe if we exchange phone numbers I can text it to you.”

He tried to appear nonchalant, but his hands moved as if he was doing a public speaking presentation. Yoongi thought he was doing great, though growing a little more nervous at how you were giggling.

“You know, Suga,” you start teasingly, “My number is in the company directory. Feel free to text me anytime.”

Yoongi slightly cringes hearing his stage name. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he didn't like hearing it come from you. He didn’t like the unfamiliar aspect that came with using his stage name- like you two only went by professional terms.

“Call me Yoongi,” he says with genuine confidence this time. “I like it better when my friends call me Yoongi.”

You nod, relieved that you could finally know this cute guy’s name. Truth be told, you were snooping around his conversations with other people to figure it out.

“So we’re friends?”

Yoongi nods, sitting down in his rolling chair.

“I’d like to be,” he grins, patting the sofa, hoping you’d take a seat with him.

And you do.

—

Present

It’s hard to work efficiently when you’re no longer in a corporate space. There’s no boss to check up on your progress nor is there a nosy coworker trying to see what you’re doing from the corner of their eye. You missed the hustle and bustle of an office floor, but it was nice exploring your creativity through freelance work.

You tap your digital pen onto the table repeatedly, looking at the reference image over and over again. It was a sick joke played by the universe to have been commissioned to draw your ex-boyfriend’s idol group, but you couldn’t refuse the hundreds of dollars the ecstatic fangirl was willing to give you. Truth be told, she might have offered too much pay, but you took up her offer anyway. Money is money.

Yet a face you’ve touched so often, a person you’d been with for years felt so unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t like you were drawing him realistically either. The client wanted anime-style figures that resembled them, looked enough like the boys to display it as her Twitter header. In the end, it’s still too difficult to draw. The rest of the members were lined up and sketched perfectly, but there was a blank area where Yoongi’s face should’ve been.

Your wrists hurt from the constant drawing and erasing so you set it down to massage your hand from cramping. In moments like these, you hated your job.

Ting.

A message notification popped up on your phone that laid beside your iPad. You usually left it silent when you were working, but you opened yourself up to distractions when drawing this particular piece. Whoever thought it was a good idea to specialize in celebrity artwork? You pick up your phone and smiled softly at the text.

hey, can I come over?

—

March 2014

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yoongi, happy birthday to you~~”

You cheer on with the rest of the boys in their cramped dorm. Somehow you had gotten close enough with them to be at this level of comfort, sitting crisscrossed and shoulders touching with Jungkook and Seokjin. Yoongi blows out the candles and claps his hands, a little sad that another year passed by so quickly. He kept glancing at you who was focused on cutting the cake like the perfectionist you were.

He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, like if he didn’t confess to you now then it would never happen. Yoongi took off the beanie he wore and ruffled his hair. He was feeling anxious all of a sudden.

“Dude don’t do that your dandruff is gonna get everywhere,” Hoseok whines. “The cake is gonna be decorated with your dead skin cells.”

“Go wash your hands,” Jin commands and Yoongi could only roll his eyes.

“Relax, I don’t even think we’re gonna have cake anytime soon when this slow-poke is taking forever to cut.”

He flicks your forehead as you glare up at him.

“I could so easily throw this in your face, but I choose not to,” you stick your tongue out at him and he scoffs.

“I’d like to see you try.”

All the members groan out of annoyance.

“Oh my god they’re having a lovers quarrel again,” Jimin yawned. “Aren’t you guys sick of arguing?”

Yoongi freezes at his words. Lover’s quarrel. That was a nice way to put it.

“They’ll stop arguing when Yoongi finally-”

Taehyung was cut off as Yoongi swipes three fingers worth of frosting from the cake and lathers it all over Taehyung’s face.

“You talk too much,” Yoongi shakes his head and soon chaos descended. Cake flew in places it shouldn’t have and ended when Namjoon knocked over a glass of water, managing to break it on the floor tiles. In the end, no one got cake.

Yoongi and you were laughing amongst yourselves at the kitchen sink, washing off some of the bits that got onto your shirts.

“I’m so sorry about your cake,” you say through your chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you some time.”

Yoongi only smiles.

“Yeah, you can treat me on a date,” he replies a little too boldly. You look at him in shock, not quite processing his words.

“A date?”

He nods.

“We should go out sometime.”

You purse your lips to prevent the huge grin about to be displayed on your face.

“We should.”

—

Present

It was subtle, the way it all started. You trace over the features you drew so far, only getting to his eyes. Yoongi and you were innocent lovers for a while, keeping your trysts a secret from everyone in the company except his managers and the members. A few of your friends knew, but none of them knew BTS well enough to be all that surprised. It wasn’t all that rare to go out with a celebrity in your line of work.

You almost miss those days when he was unrecognizable. After your friends realized who he was after he hit it big globally, you felt like a secret of yours was displayed to them. Your love was supposed to be private, but his fame left very little room for privacy. You missed when you were the only one that knew of him and maybe it’s selfish to think that way, but you were past the point of being selfish.

You text back.

yeah, can't wait to see you

—

Jan. 2015

Yoongi lays you down on the couch gently. His hands caressing your sides underneath the thin material of your shirt as he pulls you in closer to his kisses. This felt different from other nights, different in that there was nothing around to stop what would come next.

He pulls away from you slightly, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“Are you sure?” he asks, drawing circles on your hip with his thumb. He was only supposed to come over to help you unpack some stuff for your new apartment and here you were, pinned on the couch and sweating from the close contact.

You nod back in response, not finding the right words to get him to continue. He pulls your shirt over your head, peppering kisses on your neck and atop your breasts. He fixates on your neck languidly, biting as he sees fits.

There was a pause as you felt him press up against you and you knew then that there was no making it to the bed. You would have your first time with him on this newly moved-in couch.

The clothes dropped to the ground as his touches get more impatient, more desperate. It all passes by like a blur and you could only remember the pleasure that came with his long fingers, the satisfaction you felt when he was inside you. The climax of it all made you realize that you loved him, truly and without regret. He holds you in his arms when you come undone, flashing a satiated smile as you look up at him. It’s like the stars were in his eyes.

“How do you feel?” you ask him, worried he was already drowsy. You didn’t want to have to sleep on the couch naked.

“Satisfied,” he says with a smile on his face.

You can’t help but swoon, his eyes fixated on you. At least for now, he was yours He wasn’t Suga, a rapper. He was Yoongi, your boyfriend.

It didn't matter to you that he was struggling to make a name for himself in this cut-throat idol industry or that he would spend countless nights cursing as one of his numerous tracks get rejected. None of that was in your mind. Only he swam through your thoughts. Only him.

“I love you,” he sighs out. He was the first to say it.

“I love you too,” you reply back and he holds you tight against him.

He’s nuzzling himself in your hair, his chest pressed up against you so his heartbeat can synch with yours. He loves this, can’t get enough of it. He catches your lips and once again you are whisked in the pleasure of it all. This is it. This is what love is.

—

Present

The piece is finally finished and you send it off to your client, hoping she doesn’t ask for revisions because you can’t handle another second of drawing his stupid face. His soft skin, his tiny moles, his gummy smile...

It's not like you hate him. It’s just... a certain contempt lingers after a breakup from a long-term relationship. It’s the type of resentment that can’t really be explained. You don’t want to see him, but you catch yourself watching his videos on Youtube. You don’t want to think about him, but you hope he thinks about you. You don’t see yourself ever getting back together with him, but you don’t have his phone number blocked.

It’s a sort of paradox you catch yourself in and you wonder if you could ever get out of it. Will Yoongi ever escape your mind?

can't wait to see u too babe

—

Aug. 2016

Yoongi hugs you from behind, his face scrunched at the nape of your neck where several marks were made from last night’s events. Your eyes stayed focus on the TV in front of you, still impressed by your own ability to afford one in your bedroom at your salary.

“BTS' SUGA drops new music video for his song and mixtape Agust D...”

The news anchor drones on and you could barely hear her through the sounds of Yoongi’s soft snores. His hold on you grew tighter as he hears his stage name from an unfamiliar voice and it makes you giggle slightly at how different the edgy music video being displayed was from the same person wrapping you in his arms so tightly.

“Babe, wake up. I have work to do,” you whisper into his hair and he only shakes his head back in response.

“No,” he mutters, pulling you into him closer. You roll your eyes, managing to pry off one of his hands as you sit up on the bed.

“Don’t you have studio stuff to do today?” you ask him, searching for a shirt to wear.

He shakes his head as his eyes start to flutter open. You both reeked of alcohol since you opened a bottle of wine last night to celebrate the release of his first solo work. He was proud of it and you were proud of him.

“Can you turn that off, I’m getting a migraine,” he whines, covering his head with a pillow. You opted to wear Yoongi’s shirt instead of your own since you couldn’t be bothered to walk to the other side of the bed to find it. You smiled at his laying figure, cooped in a fetal-like position. He was still naked, but you were with him long enough to no longer be phased by that sort of thing.

“From one bottle of wine?” you tease slightly. “I think you’re losing your touch, Agust D.”

You chuckle as he throws the pillow on top of his head towards you.

“Don’t call me that,” he pouts, “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

You stand up from where you were, stretching out your back as you make your way to the door.

“That’s because I am,” you smirk, “You know you’re saved on my phone as Sugar?”

He gives you a glare.

“It’s Suga,” he says, attempting to add some intimidation to his voice. It doesn’t work because all you do is stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever sugar.”

He chuckles lightly and watches the silhouette of your figure exit his view. Yoongi can’t help but mindlessly follow after you.

As you exit towards the kitchen, you can’t help but hear the television from the bedroom.

“Suga has recently been caught up in a dating scandal with Suran, the solo artist, who sang with him in a song...”

Your head snaps up from those words, your skin crawling with goosebumps. You make it into the kitchen but with a heavy heart and no appetite.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, passing by you to pour himself some water.

“Nothing,” you say, though you sounded bitter. He caught on quite quickly. You were jealous again.

Yoongi heaves out a deep sigh and sets the glass of water down. He comes over to your angry figure and gives you a soft hug, laying his head on top of yours as if to comfort you. You try to pull away but he keeps you close.

“I’ll tell them to drop the rumors, okay?,” he says, genuinely enough to make you believe him. “I don’t want us to fight so early in the morning.”

“You promise?”

He pulls away.

“I promise,” he says, brushing a hair away from your face. “Let’s not think about those rumors right now. You and me both know they’re not true.”

You were never one to forget so easily.

—

It was around 2016 when you had stopped working at Big Hit. They halted the Hip Hop Monster brand and your contract was expiring with them anyway. You went from living a kush office life to struggling freelance worker in a matter of a second. It also meant that Yoongi and you would be spending less time together. His busy schedules couldn’t permit him to stay with you longer than a few hours and his presence slowly started to disappear from his side of the bed.

It was like a sinking ship, what you had with him. The pain starts off slow, unnoticeable. You’ll still laugh and keep up appearances as time passes, but you could tell there was an ominous atmosphere that wasn’t initially there in the relationship. Your screams start to grow silent as more problems start to stack on top of each other. It’s then when you hit the iceberg. It’s then when it all starts to fall apart.

He was still good for you, you convinced yourself, even as the currents swept you out under your feet.

—

Dec. 2016

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?” you yell through your phone. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, holiday decorations strewn around the apartment. He promised he’d come spend a day off of his winter promotions to be with you.

“You know how hectic the end of the year gets with promotions,” he says in quiet hushes. “I can’t do anything about it. This is my job.”

You suck in your cheeks to prevent yourself from yelling. From the sound of it, he was in public.

“Yoongi, I called out of talking to a really high-paying client,” you say through gritted teeth. “And I still came home. Why am I the only one making sacrifices?”

He sighed at the other end. He didn’t have the patience to deal with you today.

“Look, can you stop being so fucking needy. I don’t need this right now.”

He couldn’t tell from the phone call, but your heart broke at the word. Needy. He thought that you were needy.

“I’m already stressed out as it is,” he continues through the phone. “I don’t need you up my ass all the time.”

“I’m not gonna wait for you,” you reply, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m going to sleep and you’re gonna get rid of all the shit you have in my apartment. I’m sick of you, Yoongi.”

He scoffs.

“I’m sick of you too.”

Yoongi hangs up, about ready to hit the wall when Jimin comes to calm him down. Small things that were never meant to be taken seriously built up until it was ready to crash down.

When Yoongi comes at night to visit you, he sees that you’re asleep on the couch. He sits next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll do better.”

You nuzzled closer to him, comforted by words you forget the next day. Even when you woke up with a bad neck and Yoongi snoring onto your skin, you couldn’t find a way to stay mad at him. You knew, deep down, that some way or the other you’re gonna find yourself arguing about the same thing next week.

—

Present

Junghoon comes to pick you up. Junghoon, your boyfriend.

He’s a little uptight and too stern for his own good, but has a good heart and a knack of giving great gifts. You met him from working in the same industry, a 3D graphics designer for several video game companies. He was a new addition to your life, your relationship only about three months old.

You were warming up to him slowly, thankful for finally having a consistent presence in your life. He always made time for you, never used work as an excuse, and didn’t act cold just for the sake of acting cold. Junghoon was sweet in the way that Yoongi used to be when he wasn’t such a massive celebrity.

It was a relief to have someone like Junghoon in your life that didn’t walk in and out of your door without much of a thought to even say goodbye. Your life with him has been a tad bit dull, but you don’t mind all that much. Junghoon’s made you feel secure in ways that Yoongi couldn’t.

—

May 2017

“Your boyfriend is winning a whole ass award across the world and you’re having ramen with me?” Chaerin sighs. It’s typical for a best friend to judge the actions of the other.

“Yeah and?” you reply snarkily, swirling your chopstick around to find the perfect clump of noodles. “I’m not the top social artist according to Billboard, what’s it have to do with me?”

She rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know, you could at least watch him win the award?” she suggests. “The live stream is literally happening right now. Your boyfriend is making history and you don’t even care!”

You look at the clock on the restaurant wall. It was nearing 2 o’clock and your client meeting would be starting soon. You were in high demand as a graphic artist recently and as far as you were concerned, that was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You stare back into your bowl, suddenly losing your appetite.

“The apartment is lonely without him,” you admit sadly.

He bought one for himself and had you move in. ‘It’s easier to not get noticed by the tabloids,’ he convinced you. The modern sleekness of his penthouse was a nice change to your lifestyle, but you missed the comfiness of your small studio apartment. It was often too cold when he wasn’t around.

“You could watch it with me?” Chaerin suggested. “Yoongi’s probably so sad that his own girlfriend doesn’t even want to watch him win such a major award.”

You bite down on your chopstick harshly.

“Well he didn't even want me to come with him so I don’t wanna hear anymore about him from you.”

Chaerin squinted her eyes in your direction.

“Well I mean I get where he’s coming from. He’s still an idol, [Y/N],” she scolds. “It would be a massive risk to take you with him.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, pushing the bowl away from you.

“I’m not an idiot, Chae. It’s not like I was asking to be on the red carpet with him, I just wanted to be there waiting in the hotel room after the show. Two nights ago he suddenly backs out and says I shouldn’t come.”

Chaerin’s jaw dropped out of shock. That wasn’t what she was expecting at all.

“Did he say why?”

You stare down at your nails, your heart growing heavy as a long pause of silence takes place. It would be better to be honest, right? You shouldn’t have to pretend like everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.

“He said he wants space,” you say, careful not to get choked up. “So I’m giving it to him.”

You clutch your thigh instinctively, remembering how Yoongi had brought that up with you just nights before. You two weren’t happy and that he needed to figure himself out before the relationship gets any worse. It’s just a break or whatever bullshit he spouted.

She scoffs.

“What is wrong with you two?” she asks, genuinely concerned. “You are not the type of person to take a break in a relationship.”

You stare bitterly into the reflection of your soup.

“I just don’t think I’ve been happy for a while,” you reply, taking a sip of your water that was left untouched for a better half of the night. “I don’t think he is either.”

—

Sept. 2017

The break lasted for months and you wondered if it was really even a break at all. It felt more like a break up if you were honest. He’d text once in a while and video call you when he was free but other than that it felt like he became a stranger, just another celebrity billboard you walked past on your way to a client’s workplace.

You’d draw sketches of him countlessly, in fear you’d forget how his face looked in real life and not through a low-quality screen. You etched every baby hair, every small blemish he’d hide with makeup. It was your method of not forgetting who the real Yoongi was because honestly, you didn’t know anymore. You didn’t know him.

Trrrringggg.

The sound of your doorbell could be heard all throughout your apartment. You stood up from where you sat on the bed, leaving the sketchbook of his face on the comforter. You weren’t expecting any visitors, but surely enough, Yoongi stood in front of you with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Hey.”

You let him in, not uttering a single word. He looks different now. His hair was black, thank god, but his face was a little softer than you were used to. You remember him being so paranoid about turning bald just a few years ago and here he was, no bald spots to be found. He looked healthy.

“It’s been a while,” you respond, hugging your arms close to your chest, uncomfortable that he was in your presence. It was his apartment technically, but you lived in it more than he did. He opted to stay in the dorm ever since he issued that idiotic break.

“I miss you,” he says in a lowly voice and you almost believe him. Almost.

You scoff.

“It seems like you’ve been having fun without me though,” you say through gritted teeth. “I thought you still wanted space?”

He shakes his head and brings his hand to touch your arm.

“No,” he swallows his saliva. “I miss you.”

You could feel his sincerity, but you can’t help but not trust him. He’s been viciously cold to you, but you find yourself pulling him closer anyway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten. “It’ll really be over then, Yoongi.”

He sighs into your hair. He loves you. He does. But he doesn’t know why it’s so hard to express it.

“I promise [Y/N]. I won’t leave.”

—

Aug. 2018

He buys you flowers, your favorite kind. It’s a small gesture, but it has you jumping into his arms all the same. It shows that he still cares somewhat. It’s been a while since he’s last shown it.

He holds you closely, appreciating the softness of your body and how you curl perfectly into him.

“I want to stay like this,” you say mindlessly, just relishing in his presence.

You’re not mad at him today and he’s not frustrated with you. It’s a high point in your relationship.

“Me too.”

His words are simple but it warms your heart nonetheless. Yoongi looks at you with twinkling eyes and for a moment you think that this could last forever and that it will last forever. You kiss him slowly and he reciprocates.

It reminds you of your first time, slow and careful- like you were the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

His love, although painful at times, was good to you when you needed it to be.

—

July 2019

Yoongi’s gone again. He’s on tour, as usual, and not giving you any updates. You were getting sick of it. The constant waiting, the constant insecurities that ate you up inside. You weren’t built to endure this kind of torture.

Suga. Suga. Suga.

It rolls off the tongue but it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth. His stage name, a persona. He starts to resemble that name more and more as the days go by. You hear it so much now that it no longer registers as an actual word.

You call him.

He doesn’t pick up.

Again.

No answer.

You’re about ready to throw the phone at the wall until a soft ring was heard from the small device. You take the call immediately, smiling as if you passed the hardest difficulty of a video game. The grin would soon be wiped away, though.

“Why’d you call?” he grumbles from the other line, loud music blasting in the background.

“Why weren’t you picking up?” You sound bitter. You don’t care.

“I’m out right now,” he says, exasperation laced in his voice. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Clearly, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Yoongi was at a party or a club or wherever he could possibly be in the streets of Shizuoka at 10 p.m.

You just wanted to chat, check on him as a good girlfriend would. He’s been complaining that you haven’t been in a while. You thought this was what he wanted- for you to care.

“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” you sigh. “How’d the concert go?”

“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Some of us snuck out of the hotel rooms to let loose for a bit.”

You nod as if he could see you.

“So you’re partying?”

You could hear him laugh at the other end, but it wasn’t from your comment. Someone else was making him laugh. Someone with a light and dainty voice, whiny as she got closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen I’ll call you back, okay?”

You feel a lump stuck in your throat. There are no words left to say. The foreign girl on the other end giggled harder at whatever Yoongi was saying and it felt like you were invading their privacy- as if she was his girlfriend and you were nothing. You hung up, your mouth feeling dry as the tears poured down.

You see a text from Yoongi just a few seconds into your wallowing. You sniffle as you read it.

don’t misunderstand. nothing’s happening rn i'm just having a bit of fun.

This time you really threw your phone at the wall.

You go to your iPad that’s sitting untouched on your desk. You open your drawing app and just let the anger in the stylus take you from there. You draw a rough sketch of a couple on the edge of a beachside cliff. The woman seems to be falling into the water as if she was pushed. The guy’s hand reaches out to her, but you can’t really tell if he was trying to grab her or if he was the one that let her go in the first place.

As the tears spilled onto the cool surface of the iPad, you sob harder. Nothing could be fixed and everything still felt broken. It was meaningless, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes when he was all the way in Japan snuggling up to girls that were probably much prettier and much more willing to understand his lifestyle.

You look around the penthouse he had bought for the two of you, beautiful wide panel windows and modern furniture. It mostly looks empty, everything nice and tidy as if no one lived here. It had such a stark contrast to that of his old life when he shared rooms with other members and had no place to really put his keyboard except the studio. You smiled at the memory of you all hovering around the small coffee table in the cramped living room eating ramen.

Maybe it was your fault for falling behind, for letting the world around you build up and not follow in Yoongi’s tracks.

—

Present

You guess it was then when the relationship had passed a point of no return. When everything that felt right had started to feel incredibly wrong. You tolerated his presence rather than bask in it. You heard him speak but couldn’t bother to listen. Maybe you were petty, but more than anything you were angry.

You were angry that he could break you that badly and you would still forgive him for it.

You stare over at Junghoon who’s cooking you up something on the stove. This is what you needed.

—

Nov. 2019

Yoongi was back from some big-name award show that you didn’t watch. You heard he won Artist of the Year or whatever, the accolades that he’s collected no longer having meaning as the days pass. Why be happy for him when he himself showed no signs of excitement? This was routine. He expected the awards at this point.

You walked towards him. Yoongi looked angry, though you have no idea why.

“Hey, I made dinner to celebrate,” you tell him. Yoongi’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through the congratulatory messages he received from other industry stars. He looked like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters. “Just leave it.”

“Are you sure?”

He scoffs. It was a simple question.

“Not in the mood.”

You give him a pointed look and sit next to him.

“Why are you never in the mood for anything?” you ask him. “It’s just food Yoongi. I just want to eat with you.”

You don’t see it properly but he rolls his eyes.

“Just drop it okay? Today’s a good day, I don’t need you to ruin it.”

You suck in your cheeks.

“Ruin?”

Yoongi sighs heavily.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he starts, facing you. “Why do you have to be so dramatic over everything.”

You grit your teeth.

“Dramatic?” your voice quivers. “I didn’t know feeling hurt was being dramatic.”

His gaze softens and he touches your arm lightly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shake your head, feeling your eyes dampen at his words.

“I hate your apologies, Yoongi,” you say in a hushed tone. “They don’t mean anything anymore.”

He’s shocked, not really sure how to respond. You were never one to confront him, especially when he was angry. Instead, he holds your hand softly. He was terrible at comforting people.

“Yoongi are you really sorry?” you ask abruptly. It was a question you’ve been meaning to ask for years now.

His grip on you tightened and you can’t quite read his expression, but you can tell that it’s not a positive response. He looks conflicted and he shouldn’t have to be if he really was. You force him to let go of you.

“I am,” he says, knowing he answered a little too late for his words to not seem suspicious.

“I don’t think you are,” you reply sadly. “You say sorry more than you-”

say I love you.

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he knows. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I am,” he says with more sincerity, but he looks at you with an unreadable expression. “I just don’t think it’s enough at this point.”

“What’s not enough?”

You were confused. Is he still talking about whether he's apologetic or not? Or is it something entirely different?

“I do love you,” he says with a certain conviction in his voice, “and I always will, but it feels like nothing’s working out.”

Yoongi doesn’t look at you and focuses on the leather of the fancy couch. He doesn’t say anything but you know what this means. He’s about to stand up, but you grab onto his wrist.

“This is your apartment,” you say before he could say anything to break your heart even further. “I’ll leave.”

“[Y/N], no,” he says. “You don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m just gonna stay over at the dorm. I just...”

Your eyes get blurry from the tears. Even now it felt like he was looking down at you. Nowhere to go. It was like he pitied you.

“...need to go clear my mind,” he finishes the sentence, standing up to grab his coat.

You shake your head and stand in front of him. He’s usually like this. A coward. A bumbling fool who would rather avoid problems than face them head on.

“I need you to stay, Yoongi,” you cry out. “I need you to actually stay for once and comfort me.”

He looks at you, mouth open but no words come out. He smiles sadly and walks toward you, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think I can do that anymore, [Y/N],” he says and you watch him leave as easily as he walked in.

It’s not like he ever comforted you in the first place.

—

The break up happened silently over a late-night phone call a few days after he disappeared on you. You packed up your things, stayed over at Chaerin’s house, and braced yourself for what was to come. It should’ve happened sooner, you admit, but your heart still sinks when he speaks.

“I just don’t think either of us is willing to try anymore,” he says solemnly. “We’ve been on and off for the past few years and I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue.”

You agree, just wanting the call to end quickly so you wouldn’t have to hear his voice any longer. It hurt to have to listen to him rationalize breaking your heart.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore, [Y/N],” he says, not even a tiny bit choked up. “I think we’ve... outgrown each other.”

You knew what Yoongi really meant. He’s outgrown you.

“I think so too,” you say rigidly. Short and simple. You left nothing to be desired. “Let’s break up.”

Yoongi looks at his phone, slightly disappointed. He wished you would fight back, maybe rekindle something in him that he’s lost over the years. Yet you were silent on the line and he just had to accept it- that there was nothing left to be saved.

“Take care, okay?” he says softly because in the end he still cares- he just doesn’t want to anymore.

“I will,” you reply, ultimately hanging up the phone. You collapse onto a bed unfamiliar to you. Yoongi would no longer sleep beside you, no longer reach over to hug your side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He was gone and you had to accept that maybe he was never yours in the first place.

His last words replay in your mind.

Take care.

That was the most concern he’s ever shown you in the past few weeks. You almost scoff at the absurdity of it all. You don’t notice how truly broken you were until the tears start streaming down your face. You see the image of him through blurry eyes and you wonder how you could let Yoongi leave such a permanent scar on your heart.

—

Present

“Do you like your eggs runny or no?”

Junghoon asks as you approach his figure. You hug him from behind and smile at his warmth. Safe.

“Just a little runny,” you reply.

He smiles and nods, turning off the heat and grabbing some seasoning from your cupboard. You detach yourself from him when you realized what he was grabbing.

“Babe that’s not salt. That’s-”

Sugar.

You stop yourself from saying it and Junghoon looks at you with concern. He chuckles at your stoic state and ruffles your hair.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” he asks, grabbing the right container this time. “Maybe I should’ve asked if you like your eggs sweet instead, huh?”

“I’ve never tried that combination before,” you say teasingly. “Why don’t you test it out for us.”

He clicks his tongue at you and splashes some salt on your face.

“I’ll pour sugar all over you if that’s what you really want.”

You laugh half-heartedly. A simple word shouldn’t affect you this much but you find yourself get more teary-eyed as it repeats in your head. It wasn’t fair to Junghoon that you were thinking of your ex in his presence. It wasn’t fair to you either.

You feel a vibration from your pocket and you pull it out to serve as a distraction from your wallowing thoughts. It’s a text.

From Sugar.

—

A/N: This was so hard to write because my mind has just been empty these days but I’m so glad it’s done now >_< Thank you to @minyoongail​ for requesting this story. I’ve been bumping to the Taylor Swift song now because of this commissions T^T I recommend you all to listen to it. I tried to write this in a different style from my other works so I hope this is still readable for you all LOL

I’m closing commissions temporarily to focus on the ones I have now and to also start writing my own stuff. Let me know how you feel about this, I appreciate all types of comments and criticisms <3 Look forward to Part 2!