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e-vay · 10 months ago

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Evay QA Bulk Post 3

Here’s the latest assembly of asks, assorted by topics so you can browse only what interests you. Also, some questions refer to the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure game I made, so to avoid spoilers for those of you who haven't played it, I put those asks all the way at the bottom. If you haven't played my game yet, please go play it!

PERSONAL ASKS

Anon asked: E-vay may i ask which tablet mark do you use for your drawings?

And dreamylumi-art asked: Was wondering what is your favorite brushes In Procreate? Your drawings look so fun and bouncy that I’m interested in your process!

A: I use an iPad and I do all my drawings in Procreate now. I like to experiment with brushes, but the primary brushes I use come standard with Procreate. I use the "Procreate Pencil" for my sketches and the "Technical Pen" for linework :)

Anon asked: How are u and ur family doing? ❤️

A: You are so very sweet for asking ❤️ We're all doing really good right now. My dad's surgery went great and he's cancer free and fully healed. My mom is on medication that's helped her a lot. Things are also looking up for my younger sister (she even got engaged this Christmas!). I'm stressed but for good reasons hahaha I'm very thankful and counting my blessings right now.

twistedchaos101 asked: Hey, what’s your MBTI?

A: I just retook the test and I got "INFJ-T Advocate" for myself :)

karura-senpai asked: Have u ever heard of these new bollywood movies like Animal and Dunki which are popular rn around the world because of instagram reels and tiktok videos...

A: I can't say that I have, I'm sorry! My Tiktok FYP is very niche so I don't see many things about movies on there.

edwinflores428 asked: E-vay, since you're also a Beatles enjoyer, did you hear the new Beatles song 'Now and Then'?

A: I had not known about this before you told me! I just listened to it and I really loved it. It has that beautiful, 60's-Beatles feel to me. Thank you so much for point it out to me!

Anon asked: What's your creative process when going into writing / planning for a comic? Apologies if this has been asked before.

A: I normally start by just jotting down any super rough concepts/quotes in my notes app. If the piece I'm doing involves stuff I don't know by heart (renaissance clothing or certain landscapes or anything like that) I'll work on gathering a TON of resource images. That way I'm not interrupting my drawing process by repeatedly stopping to look up references. I try to do it all up front and have it saved somewhere I can easily access.

Once I have more time, I'll write out the script in a Google Doc. I break up the script by each panel. I won't always have all the elements ready in my head, and sometimes I'll combine panels or separate them more, but I can always adjust:

Once I have a basic script, I can start to rough out the drawings/panels. These are just gestural drawings; I'm not looking to do anything too detailed here. I'm trying to figure out what best captures the emotions/energy of the scene and determine the natural flow of where your eyes will want to read the art and word bubbles:

Then I move on to the "pencils." This is my opportunity to nail down the expressions and flow. Sometimes I'll realize the page is imbalanced so I will redesign the panels so it has more even weight distribution or make it more dynamic/emotional. I always draw the characters in different colors so it can help me make sure I know what lines belong to which character:

Then it's on to all the fun stuff: Lines, coloring, shading and adding text!

I hope this answered your question! It's pretty straight forward :)

Anon asked: have you ever watched the anime fairy tail? if no i think sonamy fits the main couple NaLu (natsu x lucy) really well, like as if they’re similar 🫶🏻

A: I'm sorry, I've never seen it! I don't watch much anime anymore.

Anon asked: Can you make different characters(aka people sonic characters/oc) in your own style

A: When I'm open for commissions, yes! I am not open for commissions at the moment but I plan on doing that this year.

MISC SONIC ASKS

chrismantike asked: What’re your thoughts on longclaw (the owl from the sonic movie) does she exist in your AU as Sonic’s mom?

A: I liked the relationship we saw between Longclaw and baby Sonic in the movie, but I consider the movie as something entirely separate from the game/comic canon. I don't include any of the movie elements as part of my AU.

essycogany asked: What do you like most about Prime!Sonic?

A: Hmm, I think my favorite thing about him is how open he is with his emotions. In this show, he's very verbal about how much he cares about his friends and he doesn't hide it when he's sad or upset about something. In other media, Sonic has a habit of masking his emotions. I get that that's part of his personality, but it's nice to see this different side of him. (I also like how he showed more emotions in Frontiers, too!)

juli071023 asked: e-vay, what motivates you a lot about Sonic these years, why do you love it a lot, what motivates you about that character?

A: In the words of Young Neil, 'that's kind of a big question' haha. Simply put, the franchise just fuels me with excitement and joy and love! The character Sonic represents happiness and freedom and living in the moment and loving life to the fullest and I think that's such a great outlook to have. From a meta standpoint, I love how good the Sonic Team is to us fans. They engage with us regularly and put out SO MUCH CONTENT for us, more than any other franchise I'm aware of! I mean there are plenty of other great IPs out there, but you don't get the bombardment of games and shows and comics and social media engagement (etc) that you get with Sonic. I just think that's so cool! The fans love Sonic so much and the creators know that and reward us for our commitment. It's awesome.

Anon asked: So who do you think would win in a fight between Mario and Sonic

A: I gotta go with my boy Sonic! But of course it's better when they team up :D

Anon asked: How do you feel about the Dadow theory/au? As in Shadow being Silvers Dad. I honestly like it a lot.

A: If they're related, I think it makes more sense for Shadow to be Silver's grandpa or great grandparent. I think there are plot holes to say that he's directly his dad but I'm definitely open to them being related. Plus I think people can headcanon/au just about whatever they want, so I'm not against that theory :)

Anon asked: Hi e-vay, I hope you’re having a great day!! My question is: if there were to be a Sonic movie that’s only about Sonic and the guys but they were all being played by human actors, which actors do you think would suit them best?

A: Thank you so much, I hope you are too! Oh man this was so difficult but I put a ton of thought into it. And I'm sure there are still tons of actors I'm not thinking of who would be better, but here's what my gut tells me: Older Sonic: Max Greenfield [x] [x] or Jack Quaid [x] [x]. They're so witty and handsome and are built like runners! Younger Sonic: Jack Dylan Grazer Older Amy: Alison Brie. Even if it wasn't a live action movie, I so desperately wish that Alison Brie could be Amy's voice actor. I'm actually working on an animation where Amy is paired with some Alison Brie lines because I think it's such a perfect fit. She's sweet and funny and strong and sexy. She's on the petite side but she has that confidence that just commands a room. Ugh, Amy and Alison are my dream women 💖 Younger Amy: McKenna Grace Older Tails: Justice Smith or Cole Sprouse Younger Tails: Noah Jupe or Jacob Tremblay. Sorry, I don't know many young actors but I think they're both great! Older Knuckles: Terry Crews or Jason Momoa Younger Knuckles: Tyler James Williams [x] [x] Shadow: Jensen Ackles or Michael B Jordan 💖Swoon💖 Older Rouge: Ana de Armas or Charlize Theron Younger Rouge: Jenna Ortega or Sophie Turner

Anon asked: How old are the sonic boom characters in your opinion?

A: Firstly, I've said this before but I don't think Mobian age works the same as human age. I consider the Sonic Boom characters as all being what we'd consider as late teens or young adults. They all act like me and my friends did when were were college age haha

Anon asked: What do u think tails looked/acted during puberty🙂

A: That's what Tall!Tails is all about! I think he shot up in height and outgrew Sonic immediately. Maybe he got a bit more snarky and might mutter about how annoying it is that Sonic doesn't think things through before acting, but Tails is a sweetheart and I think he'd overall still be nice even while he's in that awkward stage of life.

MY OCs/AU ASKS

@redbirduniverse13 asked: Hi i love your art 💖 My question is, are your characters aware that other versions of them exist?

A: Thank you so much! No, they aren't aware of any other versions of them out there. Ruff would probably be most hopeful to meet other versions of himself since he's into comic books and would love the concept of the multiverse.

twistedchaos101 asked: What's your ocs MBTI?

A: I have too many OCs to do all of them lol But I'll do it for Aurora and CC. As Aurora, the results from the test were: "ENFP-T Campaigner" As CC, the results from the test were: "INTJ-A Architect"

Anon asked: Question, how is Aurora able to glow ?

A: Aurora has photokinesis, which gives her the ability to manipulate light. This results in a lot of things she's able to do that involve light, but glowing is the easiest thing for her to do (and is the hardest for her to suppress lol). She was born with these abilities but they didn't manifest until she was about preteen age.

charlieangel345 asked: You know everytime I saw Aurora glow up, her photokinesis power changes color. It made me wonder if she feel happy, angry, or sad, her light power might change colors. I can imagine she can create rainbow light.

A: Absolutely! Her powers are severely influenced by her emotions, so the color of her glow would definitely change based on her feelings. I have her inhibitors glow green naturally, but she could do any color under the light spectrum.

freshcreationgarden asked: I like to think Aurora's favorite fairytale growing up was beauty and the beast. Something about a handsome prince who hides beneath a rough exterior who believes they are not worthy of love who is bound to a "Rose"

A: Oh that is just too sweet! That metaphor is very perfect for what I write for her romantic future ;) I have said in a previous ask that Thumbelina is her favorite fairytale, but I like your headcanon too!

Anon asked: Hi, something randomly popped in my head about like the comics of aurora and I wondered, has aurora ever gotten sick?

A: Of course! She's just a regularly lady so she gets sick like average people do. I see her as the type that doesn't get sick often, but when she does it LAAAASTS. (That's how I am and it sucks!)

Anon asked: I know this might be a weird question, but can it be possible if Aurora can do chaos control with a chaos emerald like Sonic and Shadow.

A: I'll be honest, because we don't know much about Chaos Emeralds, I don't know who is capable of using them or not. But because Sonic is capable of using Chaos Control, I'm going to say yes Aurora should be able to as well. I don't think it's a technique either of them can master like Shadow does. Chaos Control seems second nature to Shadow.

Anon asked: if we go by sonic underground lore imagine Aurora finding out that she's technically a princess/duchess. Like sonic always call her princess because that's what dad's typically call their daughters, but then she finds out and her mind just explodes.

A: Honestly, I'm not a Sonic Underground fan. I know a lot of people love it for the nostalgia, but I didn't watch it growing up so I don't have any ties to it and I am not a fan of the story. I'm okay if people want to headcanon tying it in, but it's not for me.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

Anon said: Hi, so glad you’re back! Just reread Boom!Baby where Rouge mentions how hedgehogs have a lot of babies and I think it’s kinda funny in the future Shadow and Aurora have eight

A: Thank you so much, I'm so happy to be back! Yeah, Rouge really knew what she was talking about 😆 I bet she told Shadow the same thing when they were expecting!

Anon asked: Does aroura ever run into her ex again?

A: Aurora spends most of her life in a small bubble, rarely leaving her home town, so she would have run into him now and then. Again though, they were kids when they were "boyfriend/girlfriend" and you can hardly even call them that (Imagine like in the Barbie movie, how Ken and Barbie don't know what it means to be Girlfriend-Boyfriend) so it's not awkward running into each other. It's more of a "Hey there's that person I used to know"

prophecyhyper asked: When Aurora was born and Amy said "She's more perfect than I imagined" What did she imagine of Aurora looking like?

A: She didn't have an exact image in mind when she said that. It was more like an amorphous concept. You know somehow the baby will look like you and your partner, but there are so many different outcomes. So she would have daydreamed about all the possibilities: the baby looking more like Sonic, the baby looking more like her, maybe the baby having elements of their grandparents.

Anon asked: Will Sage exist in your AU?

A: Yes! I adore Sage!

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

Anon asked: Hey Evay, I’ve been thinking about this lately. It’s kind of silly question. If there is a naughty and nice list, which of Shadora Kids is naughty or nice.

A: This was a great question and I'm so sorry I missed it before the holidays! This is all in fun, none of them got punished: Piper: Nice but ONLY after Santa had to give her a lecture on how she needs to not be a smartass and boss around her siblings Zane: Naughty (He did too many stunts indoors!) Nova: Nice Aster: Naughty (He and Blitz plotted to kidnap Santa) Blitz: Naughty (She finds it a point of pride) Diamond: Nice Cinder: Nice (He's scared of Santa) Boon: NICE! (He doesn't know the meaning of the word naughty!)

Anon asked: haven’t seen CC in a while, could we have more CC please

A: There will be more CC, I promise! :)

kbluetoons asked: Say, after reading your spindash lesson comic (which was really cute by the way), what if Aurora showed her kids how to spindash like how Sonic showed her?

A: Aw I'm so happy you liked it! Yes, learning to spin dash is vital to a hedgehog's upbringing ;) She'd teach them very young but then immediately regret it because they'd be spindashing all over the house. Now she knows why Sonic was so hesitant to teach her when she was little!

mod-bubamon asked: I know spooky season is over but how do cc and tails handle horror movies? Does cc Criticize every litter thing the protagonist do? Does tails even get scared after all he's been through? IF CC GETS SCARED DOES SHE HUGS TAILS TAILS FOR COMFORT??? THIS IS IMPORTANT

A: Hahaha I loved this question! First of all, Spooky Season is never over for me! ↜(ˈ╰ •ω•)╯ψ So bring on all your Halloweeny ideas! CC would not be fun to watch horror movies with. She would be overly analytical, not only of the actions that the victims are doing but how unrealistic the injuries/gore/battles are haha. I see Tails as someone who originally was afraid of scary movies, but watching them with CC has actually helped him to be less afraid of them. Now he spots the same flaws she does and they like to roast them together! Just to clarify -- CC does get scared of things, just not horror movies.

Anon asked: Hey, I rediscovered your art recently and almost forgot how much I loved it! I love CC and was wondering if you had any small head cannon kinda things you have for her and Tails you would share that you haven't already?

A: Well welcome back and thank you so very much! This question was not related to the previous question, but the previous question sparked an idea for me so I'm going to expand on it here. When Tails and CC first started watching horror movies together, CC noticed that Tails was super on edge. To help relax him, she'd take his tails into her lap and pet them to calm him down. He's not as scared of movies anymore, but he always has her stroke his tails while they watch shows together now :) Also, CC is still getting used to Mobian mannerisms and nuances. They've made a nightly routine where during dinner, she debriefs Tails on all the new conversations and interactions she's had with people and Tails scores her on how well she's adjusting. She likes the challenge and strives for a better "score" every day!

SHIPPING ASKS

essycogany asked: How are you feeling about the new Sonamy material from this and last year? Things are really starting to become more obvious as the years go on.

A: It does my shriveled little heart so much good! I don't know that they'll ever cross that line in canon, but I love how much their relationship has evolved compared to years ago. It means the world to me that Sonic considers Amy as one of his best friends and as someone he can depend on (and is even willing to think about dating ((in reference to that cut dialog line from Frontiers)). And I love that Amy has proven that her feelings for Sonic are more than just a fan-crush; she genuinely loves him for who he is and will always be there for him. UGH IT MAKES ME FEEL SO ALIVE!

Anon asked: I just wanted to say that I love love love your sonamy works! :D Absolutely adorable (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Also, only if you want to answer ofc, what are your thoughts on the ship Metamy (Metal Sonic and Amy)? Thank you for the lovely food you bring and have a wonderful day!

A: Oh gosh, thank you so much! You just made my day wonderful by this sweet message! I do ship Metamy! After all, I believe in my heart of hearts that Sonic has feelings for Amy and Metal Sonic is supposed to be the same as him... ^_~ I think despite his transgressions, Amy has a special place in her heart for Metal. He's one of the reasons she even met Sonic in the first place! But what I'd prefer most is for Metal Sonic to have a Metal Amy. That way everybody wins 💕

Anon asked: Hi e-vay I love ur dr who art!! Question, do tenrose remind you of sonamy? Or do any characters or couples from the whoverse remind you of any sonic character or couples?

A: Ahhh thank you so much! I always thought my Doctor Who art got lost in the void so I'm so glad you found it! TenRose is my favorite DoctorWho ship, so I think by law I have to relate them to sonamy haha. But honestly I think RoryXAmyPond suits sonamy more if you reverse the roles. Rory's absolute dedication to AmyPond--regardless of death--was the definition of love, and that's how I feel Amy Rose is for Sonic. I can't think of any other ships that are good parallels. River Song reminds me of Rouge just that she's savvy and flirty. Forgive me, I stopped watching after Eleven regenerated so I'm not up to date on anything. If you don't like the Shadora ship then don't click this link, but I have drawn Aurora and Shadow as Ten and Rose before :)

Anon asked: Werehog Sonic and Werehog Amy kiss meme or a mini comic about both kissing in their werehog forms?

A: I kind of already drew that :) It's the 10th drawing in this post.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

penguin-evere asked: hello! this is my first time doing something like this. i've loved your art for a while now (probably since 2017-2018), and i love the new style you have! anyways, i wanted to ask if you've seen the frontiers twitter takeover, and the newfound information about shadow's secret like of some good ol' t. swizzle music, and was curious if aurora would be a fan too, and if they would go to a concert together! i think it'd be really cute.

A: Thank you so much! And I'm so relieved you still like my stuff even after all this time :) Aurora loves pop music and so yeah I could see her being a Taylor fan for sure. Although I don't take Swifty!Shadow as canon (lol) it is still fun to think they could bond over that music together!

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

Anon asked: what was the shadora confession like? Cause I like to imagine that it was shadow who confessed and that he did it in the most dramatic way possible, cause he's our drama king.

A: I don't want to reveal too much until I've properly drawn it, but yes for my stories Shadow would confess his love first. He's technically loved her longer since he met her when she traveled back in time to save him so once they've "re-met" I don't think he'd be willing to hide his feelings too long. It's Shadow so of course it has to be so romantic and dreamy~!

ASKS RE: MY GAME

Anon asked: How did you make the Trick Or Sweet Halloween Game, can you show me what you used or did to make it? If you can do a step by step that would be helpful or just tell me how you did it that would be helpful:))

A: Oh man... Honestly, it was way too complicated of a project to explain in just one answer. And I won't be able to explain any of the technical/coding side. I watched so many tutorials but I just couldn't grasp it, so my husband had to code it for me and I have no idea how he managed it. From a non-technical standpoint, I had to first write out the script for it. That means writing out all the dialog and also writing out every option possible. Even though my game was fairly linear, this was still complicated to write. What helped me was using icons and colors to help me know which actions would lead to which outcomes:

Then came the longest part, the drawing! I had to draw a variety of sprites and backgrounds and objects. Also, some of the actions you take make certain items go away, so I had to remember to hide them depending on the path you took. Once I had all the elements, I assembled them in a Slides presentation to test it out. If you're not doing anything too complicated, you could probably get away with making your game entirely in Google Slides. Mine was too complicated and I wouldn't be able to publish it to my website but it was good for testing. When it was ready for build, I had to make a comprehensive guide for Ryan showing what clicks lead to where, what sound effects should be played when, when the music tracks should switch, etc:

He programmed it in Adobe Animate. I don't know how he did it, other than he's just a brilliant babe and I thank god for him lol

Anon asked: Just at a curiosity though, whatever happened to everyone (especially Sonic & Amy) AFTER your truth serum wore off from your ‘Trick or Sweet Adventure’? Also how about Shadow & Rouge? Did they get affected as well?

A: They lived happily ever after, of course! If the two just told each other how they felt then they'd be happy (in my opinion) so they just needed a little magical kick in the butt haha. I didn't have any plans for Shadow or Rouge, but if I could cast a spell to make them happy then I would give Rouge a throne of diamonds and Shadow the chance to ease the pain in his heart (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

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Thank you all for the questions!

Evay QA Bulk Post 1

Evay QA Bulk Post 2

Evay QA Bulk Post 4

Evay QA Bulk Post 5

Evay QA Bulk Post 6

#Ask me #evayQA #MasterQA #MasterPost #long post #bulk QA #MasterAsk #headcanons #my au #sonic trash #bulk #bulkQA

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raisans-art · 2 years ago

Note

I would love to hear how you came up with some of the names (or all of them 👀) if you wanted to talk about it perhaps 👀👀👀

Also I think waspbite is very fitting for False! I really like the wasp theme more than the eagle theme (not that eagle theme is bad!). The bee theme fits nicely with her colors, and makes her sound more intimidating!

Ok so:

Voidstar/Voidstep(X): from Xisumavoid and I wanted to make his paws large. So Voidstep.

Hillsong(Joe): from Joe Hills and the fact that he makes music in a way

Bearcreek(Cub): wanted a tie in to Cub so I went with the Bear prefix and added creek because it sounded nice and he's very chill sounding and controlled.

Aspenwool(Zed): aspen because aspen trees have bright yellow leaves in fall and wool because sheep. Took a while for me to cave in on using wool.

Canopystorm(Doc): his original name was going to be Scarletstorm because I wanted to use the prefix Scarlet, but there was no reason I could think of that his parents would name him Scarletkit at birth with the way he looked so I landed on Canopy because he could look like a tree canopy on a rainy day.

Shadedsoil(Hypno): Know nothing about this man. He's part of podzol party so I made shaded the prefix to go with his black back and soil because of the podzol

Snowmask(Etho): Snow because Canadian and has white hair and mask because of his black fur covering his muzzle and chest

Wolfshadow(Ren): wolf cuz dog and shadow because of his little thing that he had with Martyn in Last Life.

Shrubfur(Bdubs): he's tiny, he needed a name that exemplified that. Also because of his moss cloak

Spiritblossom(Cleo): Blossom from her coat and spirit to call back to the zombie part of her name

Doespot(Gem): Doe for her deer connections and spot for her spotted back

Bravesky(Wels): A bitch and a half of brainstorming during work. Many scraped concepts and names. Try Bravefeather, Braveclaw, Cardinaltail, Skyheart, Bravepeak, Eaglepeak, and Mountainsky. One of my friends finally slapped Bravesky together

Marshtail(Jevin): slimes live in swamps/marshes

Cattlehunt(Beef): Also a very hard one. Didn't want to use cow so I landed on using Cattle instead. Hunt for the butcher effect.

Mossfrost(Iskall): moss to try to get some green imagery in there and frost because Iskall

Waspbite(False): Again a hard one. I played with the Eagle thing for a bit with Swifteagle, Eagletalon, and Eaglecall, but I remembered her shop and wanted to use wasp because wasps are bastards

Redflash(mumbo): I wanted him to have a redstone adjacent name so I figured Redflash would work for the way an observer has a flashing red light.

Barkscar(Scar): terraforming and tree building with his name tacked to the end

Littlewing(Grian): small and associated with flying

Petalrush(Stress): I know in season 7 she had that big fairy forest thing and I chose rush because I wanted her to seem really fast and quick witted

Sunstrike(Impulse): agonized over this as well. I wanted him to have the prefix Sun because of being a bright and positive force. So Sunshine, Sunheart, Sunglare??? I landed on strike because I didn't want him to seem like a pushover. He can kill you if he wanted to. He won't but he could.

Quickblaze(Tango): I wanted him to seem very energetic and add that fire motif that we love giving him. I tried a bit putting Blaze in front but landed on Quickblaze

Moonleap(Pearl): I wanted moon in there and tried things like Silvermoon, Moongleam, etc, but I wanted her name to have energy. So, Moonleap.

Pinefall(Keralis): didn't have a lot to go off of. I wanted to reference his lumbering with it so I tried out Timbertalon, Splinterclaw, and Timberfall and that lead me to Pinefall.

Sleekscale(xB): I wanted his name to be connected to the water. tried out different fishy thing like trout, minnow, and pike but landed on Sleekscale after I sketched his design out

Bouldertooth(TFC): rock related something and tooth because I wanted his teeth to stick out

#hermitclan au #ask raisans

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kixxraa · 3 years ago

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HOW MANY TATTOOS DOES JEON JUNGKOOK HAS?

Jungkook (정국) is a member of BTS, got his first tattoo back in Sept. 2019, and he hasn't stopped since.

Tattoo #1 ∧ R M Y + J

:Sept 19, 2019; [Goeje Island]

He was first seen with full set of tattoos on his right hand at the airport after coming back from vacation. He has the word “ARMY” tatted across his knuckles as a tribute to his fans. As a tribute to his bandmates, he also has intricate initials of their names connected with plus signs across his hand

Tattoo #2 Woozy Emoji 🥴

A woozy face emoji on his middle finger means that you are in a state where your thoughts are confused and you can't think straight.

Tattoo #3 Crown

This tattoo can simply refer to BTS’s status as the King of Kpop.

Tattoo #4 Purple Heart 💜

The purple heart stand for ‘보라해‘ (Borahae) means “I PURPLE YOU” in Korean, comes from V's as a fun twist to the Korean phrase '사랑해' (Saranghae)

Tattoo #5 0613

This tattoo under his right hand thumb meaning for BTS’s debut date (June 13, 2013).

Tattoo #6 + + +

Those +++ some see as *** between his knuckles mean BTS and ARMY forever. Making it a full composition.

Tattoo #7 Army Logo

This tattoo on the right side of his hand is BTS‘s ARMY Logo. When you combine it with the BTS official logo it creates a shield.

Tattoo #8 Rock ‘n’ Roll

Skeleton hand sign with the thumb folded in is the symbol for Rock’n’Roll/ The Devil's Horns/ "Rock on!". Jungkook has long history with hand symbol:

Bon Voyage S3 fake henna tattoo (peace)

Ending of Boy with Luv performance

During BBMAs 2019 red carpet with Jimin

However the hand sign was with the thumb, pointer finger and pinky extended which are the language sign for "I love you", different from the latest tatted on his outer wrist.

Tattoo #9 Tiger Lily and “Please love me”

Tiger lily is the birth flower of Jungkook, as explained in an episode of Run BTS ! Ep.99, in which the boys had a flower arrangement. The meaning of the tiger lilies is “Please love me”. It inspired Jungkook to tattoo the phase with the flower.

Jungkook also sketch the birth flowers of the BTS hyungs on his exhibition mask. He really has a big heart it doesn’t fit in his chest.

Source: BANGTAN BOMB

Tattoo #10 HYYH

A lot of people have asked what “HYYH” stands for! It means: Hwa Yang Yeon Hwa (화양연화), or “The Most Beautiful Moment In Life”, is their first album series released back in 2015. The album talked about their hardships and how dark side of love affects people. It must be truly meaningful to him, hence he gotten the phrase tatted in traditional Chinese “花樣年華“ below his right elbow.

Tattoo #11 Three Stripes

:Dec 24th, 20; @coreatattoo

Jungkook's tattoo artist posted the meaning of Jungkook’s 3 stripes tattoo. It was called ‘건‘ (Geon) bar on their Korean flag. That unbroken bar represents heaven, spring, east, humanity, father and justice.

JK got this tattoo covered with snake by tattoo artist: @polyc_sj. First appearance on June 1st, 22 from Jhope’s IG story during 3J’s outing with singer H.E.R, post-meeting at White House for anti-Asian hate crimes and discrimination.

Tattoo #12 ‘X’ Shaped phrase

This idiom has been and always urges Jungkook to do his best and enthusiasm on stage. Every time Jungkook appears, he is better and better. Determine to pursue and try his best with the goal are what this talented idol has in mind.

The X shaped tattoo on top of his arm says,

"rather be dead than cool" ;a quote from the Nirvana song “Stay Away”.

and the other one is,

"make hay while the sun shines"

During a live stream in April 2018, Jungkook mentioned how much he loves this phrase. It’s his life motto!

Source: BTS Vlive: JK

Tattoo #13 Korean peninsula

:Jan 3, 2020; LA, USA (behind-the-scenes MV ON)

The text in original tiger painting says ‘槿域江山猛虎氣像’. 槿域江山 (근역강산) refers to the land of Korea, 猛虎 (맹호) means courageous tiger and 氣像 (기상) represents energy, vitality and spirit. The tiger tattoo was the inscription referring to the map of Korea peninsula.

JK got this tattoo covered with black Sun by tattoo artist: @polyc_sj.

Tattoo #14 "TRUTH"

This text was spotted by fans in the “BTS Focus” version of the “Kinetic Manifesto Film: Come Prima” MV.

Although it’s difficult to make out, some believe it says “TRUTH”, which Jungkook’s GOT7 friends Mark and Yugyeom also have tattooed in the same spot.

Source: @coreatattoo

Tattoo #15 Ox and “XCVII”

Another matching tattoo with Yugyeom GOT7 which is“XCVII”, 97 in Roman numerals. Year 1997; Chinese zodiac, Fire Ox is Jungkook’s birth year.

Source: @coreatattoo

Tattoo #16 Red Eye

:June 14, 2020; the BANG BANG CON: THE LIVE Online Concert

The first clear version of this tattoo revealed during Run BTS! Ep.125, where the member were having another cooking session under the guidance of acclaimed chef Baek Jong-won.

Among the various strokes, there is a large eye with a reddish tone in the pupil, which can have different meanings depending on their qualities. Some people associate with individuals who seek the truth, trust and also protection, or it can be linked with his Japanese song “Your Eyes Tell”.

JK got this tattoo covered with “Bullet Proof” font by tattoo artist: @polyc_sj.

Tattoo #17 ?? -TBC

This tattoo was first seen from the tattoo shop in Geoje Island in 2019 as he was getting his right hand done with many small pieces. Unfortunately, it’s still unknown what this is exactly. A small peak was also shown in BTS‘s “ON” Kinetic Manifesto Film making fans believe it’s an actual tattoo.

In April 2022, it was revealed that the group’s 2021 MUSTER SOWOOZOO event would be coming on DVD. From one of the clips sharing by Army showcasing all of his sleeve tattoos. Although ARMYs have seen Jungkook’s tattoos before, this was the first time that the whole sleeve (including the shoulder) had been exposed.

Tattoo #18 Microphone 🎤 and #19 GCLEF 𝄞

To my opinion these tattoo represent how much Jungkook love music, to sing and to write new song. Jungkook had released the self-produced track “Still With You” on SoundCloud as part of BTS's annual Festa celebrations. He also co-writer for “Your Eyes Tell” track from BTS Japanese album MOTS 7: The Journey.

Tattoo #20 Stop watch/clock

If you ever get a glimpse of Jungkook’s tattoo on the inner arm, you can see a circle there which look like a stop watch with Roman numeral on it. It can be linked with his solo song ‘My Time’ from MOTS:7.

JK’S SLEEVE TATTOO ON BUTTER VLIVE (link)

Please calm down if you watch this Vlive because Jungkook finally wear sleeveless shirt and comfortably showing off his beautiful tattoos. Not only we finally saw several tattoos which blurred during “BTS in the Soop” episode, he also casually testing to drop the eyebrow sticker which later confirmed to be pierced.

Tattoo #21 Dancheong flower

Dancheong (단청), which literally means "cinnabar/vermillion-blue-green", refers to the beautiful five-colored designs found on the walls, pillars and eaves of traditional Korean wooden buildings. Patterns can be classified by subject matter or meaning. As for JK’s tatts on his elbow, flower pattern Chrysanthemum also means high integrity and elegance.

Tattoo #22 Storm Cloud with Lightning

The clouds are full of secrets and mystery, it can be dark side in a person’s life or personal growth. The rain clouds can also be representative of darker days that are now in the past, moving forward from things in the past that they are not proud of, moving into the light. (source: tattooswim)

I personally think this tattoo means his struggle with the members since before debut. From a nobody in the street giving flyers for free concert, to the biggest Worldwide artist who own gazzilionaire bank notes.

Tattoo #23 “Winners Never Quit”

Next to his “Truth” tatts is the famous quote by Vince Lombardi, “Winners Never Quit”, which actually follows with “Quitter Never Wins”. But the first line already sent the massage.

JK been doing what he love the most; Singing, thru out the years despite their packed schedule, exhausted physically & mentally, with tons of haters and clout chasing, cant even express his fanboy for IU. But thats the life he chose and he never quit because Winners are not those who never fail, but those who never quit.

Tattoo #24 ‘Hahoetal’ Mask

On July 30th, Jungkook coming on Vlive in his see-thru PJs (which now successfully Sold Out). He did a mini concert for Army, singing and dancing in his studio all for FREE!!

Army also discover the mask tatts next to Ox tatts, which we thought was Yugyeom’s new tatts on Nov. 2020. Turn out it JK’s. The ‘Hahoetal” (河回탈 및 屛山탈) Korean traditional mask signifies “the importance of tradition while allowing the wearer to realize full self-expression and liberation“.

Cr: Hitc.com

Tattoo #25 Turkey Tail Mushroom

During the Muster it was just the words now he is filling in the background with fresh ink designs of Turkey tail mushroom. (cr: Twitter)

The meaning behind this tatts still unclear, can it be the mushroom’s magic properties of healing for weakness? Up to ones understanding to represent it.

See Also: JUNGKOOK’s TOTTOO EVOLUTION

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #BTS jungkook #bangtanboys #bangtan seonyandan #tattoo art #body art #jungkook tattoos #전정국 #정국 #BTS #tattoos

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years ago

Text

any port in a storm

Pixal and Lloyd and the evolving nature of friendship, as highlighted by the regular burning down of your city.

(desperately trying to break through writer’s block and classes again, this was supposed to be under 2k and it is...very much not hdfjkgh but! i’ve been meaning to write for Pixal and Lloyd for a while so here are a whole bunch of feelings about the two of them and s8)

Pixal meets — truly meets — Lloyd Garmadon shortly after his brother’s been blown to pieces.

She says truly, because if you ask her, Pixal will tell you she met Lloyd Garmadon at exactly 8:48 in the evening outside his father’s monastery, moments before a horde of nindroids led there by Pixal herself descended upon them.

But Lloyd argues that since they said about two words total to each other, it doesn’t really count as meeting, and by the time Pixal’s spending the better part of her day with him running high and low around Ninjago City, she’s learned that it’s easier not to press the point.

Lloyd can be stubborn, like that.

She’d first learned that when she’d met him, just after they’d lost Zane. That loss hadn’t lasted long, especially for Pixal, but the immediate aftermath of it had been devastating. She’d watched with blank eyes as the team had fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise.

All of them had fled, save Lloyd. She hadn’t paid him much attention before that point, the surprisingly small bearer of the Golden Power. Of course, he wasn’t the bearer of that power anymore, but his eyes alone had shown the experience of it. There’d been a brief, lost look that had crossed his face as the others had mentioned leaving, before it had been swept under a mask of stubborn, determined blankness. He wouldn’t be leaving. Someone had to stay behind and watch out for things, he’d claimed, even as the loss had bled through his voice.

Pixal hadn’t quite grasped the concept of empathy at that point, but she’d felt something dangerously close to it.

At any rate, the only interaction they’d had alone was brief. In fact, the only one Pixal can truly remember — and her memory never fails — is the quick exchange they’d had in the hospital lobby directly after the battle. The hospital was for Mr. Borg, and for the ninja’s minor injuries.

There was nothing any hospital on earth could do for Zane.

Pixal had found herself next to Lloyd in the waiting room, trying to distract herself from those thoughts while Lloyd stared at the stark white tiling with dull eyes.

“They never mentioned what your power was,” she’d asked him, almost absently. Collecting data, processing information — anything she could do to distract from the crushing grief.

“Oh.” Lloyd had blinked, startling back into awareness. He’d suddenly looked painfully young. “It’s, ah, I guess it’s just green, now.”

It had been Pixal’s turn to blink. “Green.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd had bit his lip, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, two habits he’ll never quite lose. “I mean — it’s more than that, but it’s like — energy, I guess, is the best way to put it?”

“Interesting,” Pixal had remarked.

“Yeah.”

They’d stared at each other in silence after that, before they’d both been called off to other errands — and then they were having Zane’s funeral and then Pixal was making realizations she never got to tell anyone, and that had been that in her early introductions to Lloyd Garmadon. Quiet, awkward, and possessing an incredible power he hardly even knew the name of.

Looking back, Pixal figures her introduction hadn’t gone much better.

They’d continued as passing acquaintances as time went on, separated by danger and the confines of Zane’s head, and Pixal had figured that’s all they’d ever be. But then their Sensei goes missing and, despite Pixal’s increasing disappearances on Zane as she rebuilds her own body, she’s been given the role of watching out for Ninjago city along with Lloyd.

She quickly learns that quiet is not a term fit for Lloyd Garmadon when you’re trapped alone with him.

************

“How is there not a single station playing actual music?” Lloyd seethes, flicking through the channels almost manically. “It’s two am, who’s gonna be listening to your stupid commercial for toothpaste now, are you kidding me?”

“Statistically speaking, this is the prime time for long-distance driving near Ninjago City,” Pixal supplies, her voice a hint scratchy where it comes through the his car’s radio speakers. “Or, if you factor in the construction in the east district, there could still be traffic from late-night bars.”

Lloyd groans, thunking his head against the steering wheel as another ad screeches through the small space. “Wonderful.”

“Your vocal tones suggest you find it otherwise.”

“Dont trust ‘em, my vocal tones are traitors.” As if to solidify his point, Lloyd’s voice cracks in the middle of his sentence, shooting up an octave higher. Lloyd goes bright red, and thunks his head against the steering wheel again.

Taking pity on him, Pixal aims for reassurance. “It is normal for your voice to break, Lloyd. It shouldn’t last too long.” She pauses, momentarily scanning through another article. “On second thought, this one suggests it could also take two to three years for your voice to stabilize.”

Lloyd gives a strangled moan. “End me.”

“Unfortunately, that would defeat the purpose of why I’m here in the first place.”

Lloyd tilts his head, cracking an eye open as he glances at the camera feed he knows she’s watching him from. “Unfortunately, huh,” he muses. “So you’re saying if Zane hadn’t made you promise to look out for me, you would end me?”

“That — no, that is not — of course I wouldn’t end you,” Pixal backtracks. An odd feeling flickers through her, almost as if she’s lost her place, floundering.

Or embarrassed might be more accurate, she thinks wryly. She briefly considers projecting a a glaring face at Lloyd from the monitor. This is his fault. She rarely stuttered before Lloyd started teasing her at all hours of the morning.

“I mean, you wouldn’t be the first,” Lloyd continues, conversationally. “And if we’re being honest, I’d definitely rather you be the one to off me, instead of like, random bad guy number eighty-five—”

“I know you think you are funny,” Pixal cuts over him. “But casually planning for your death is something Kai listed I was not to let you do. Also, it is not nearly as funny as you think it is.”

“Ouch,” Lloyd mutters, though he looks chastised. “Never mind, you just took me out in one sentence.”

Chastised might be the wrong term.

Pixal studies him through the monitor, then sighs. “I am, however, honored you think highly enough of me to offer the right to murder you,” she gives in.

She’s rewarded as Lloyd breaks into a bright grin.

He still looks painfully young these days, but it’s less obvious. His voice is pitching lower and he wears his hair different, and he’s gained a whip-like tendency to quip at people, as Pixal’s experienced firsthand. Kai calls it sass in grumbling but fond tones, and Nya calls it snark somewhere between the fourth book series she’s sent for Pixal to try.

The ninja have been kind like that, sharing the interests they have in an attempt to make her feel…well, more human, she supposes. Less confined to a voice in a computer. Of course, Pixal isn’t confined to a voice in a computer anymore, but they don’t know that yet. She’ll tell them someday soon, she promises herself. Any day now.

In the meantime, it’s easy enough to keep up with Lloyd by lurking in his car radio, as he spends half his time in there anyways.

************

“You’d think we’d have found their hideout by now,” Lloyd notes, as they wait in a darkened alleyway again. It gives them an excellent view of the major highways, so if the rumored biker gang does show up, they won’t miss it.

If they show up being the key point.

“Whoever their leader is, they certainly know how to keep a low profile,” Pixal answers, closing out another dead end police report in frustration.

“It’s weird,” Lloyd says, propping the notebook he’s sketching in on his knee as he squints at the paper. “Normally the boss types aren’t this quiet. They like to show off, y’know? Make a big scene, dramatic speeches and all.”

“Are you referring to the villains, or yourselves?”

“Touché,” Lloyd snorts. “But still, you gotta admit it’s weird they haven’t even made any demands. What’s their end game here, elaborate advertising for motorcycle design?”

“I would hope not,” Pixal says. “Their color coordination is lacking.”

Lloyd fights back a smile, his pencil scratching as he shifts his notebook again. “I don’t know, I kinda like the punk look.”

“I noticed that, when you tried to redecorate the car.”

“Hey, skulls are cool.”

“They are also conspicuous, especially when they come in acid green colors.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Lloyd sighs, making a face as he scrubs the eraser across the paper. Pixal tries to tilt the camera further, to see what he’s drawing tonight, but the angle he’s holding it at remains just out of sight.

She could probably guess what he’s drawing, if she tried. The notebook is one they’ve been steadily working their way through on these late-night patrols, the pages filled with little hangman games and Lloyd’s sketches of animals and his teammates. He’s drawn her a few times from memory, and she’s been tempted to ask him to draw her in the new Samurai X armor more than once.

Soon, she tells herself.

“What are you drawing?” she finally asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

Lloyd’s cheeks tinge pink, and he quickly plasters the notebook to his chest, hiding it entirely from view. “Nothing.”

Pixal waits, letting the silence fill with her judgement. “Lloyd, I have seen your drawings before.”

He doesn’t reply, and Pixal tries again. “It gets boring, being stuck with the car monitors for eyes.”

“I know you can hack other cameras,” Lloyd mutters, but he sighs, relenting as he turns the notebook over. Pixal’s eyes rake over the detailed sketch — it’s a comical little thing of her and Lloyd, jammed together on a tiny lifeboat in the middle of a darkening ocean. She can spot the smudges where he’s redrawn her head several times, and the numerous attempts he’s made at his own hair. Pixal studies Lloyd’s portrayal of himself, which is noticeably lacking in facial features. While Lloyd draws the others plenty, it’s a rare occasion that he draws himself, and she can’t help but be curious.

“I thought you were drawing the others again,” she admits.

“They’re on the ship,” Lloyd says, absently. “I’ll draw them when they remember to pull us back in.”

There’s nothing bitter in his tone to suggest it has any bearing on their actual lives, but the lost expressions Lloyd ends up giving their tiny caricatures feel familiar nonetheless.

“Zane has assured me they will be back as soon as they can,” Pixal speaks ups quietly.

Lloyd finally looks up fully, and flashes the monitor a smile. “I know,” he says. “So we better have this thing busted by the time they do, or they’ll never let us run a city on our own again.”

“If only we were truly running the city,” Pixal grumbles. “I could do a better job in two days than the current leaders could do in a year.”

“I’d vote for you,” Lloyd says, sincerely.

It’s a sweet gesture, but Pixal is unable to resist. “You don’t know how to vote.”

“Yes I do, it’s not hard!”

“Really? Then why are you not currently registered in the Ninjago voting system?”

Lloyd makes a strangled noise. “That’s a thing?”

She’s unable to keep the smugness from her voice. “I make my point.” Lloyd scowls, and scribbles a mustache on his drawing of her in revenge.

Pixal thinks it looks nice nonetheless.

************

She can’t really hold it against Lloyd for talking as much as he does, considering she does the same. It gets dull, sitting on patrol for hours on end, and there are only so many hours of light reading they can do before the silence begins to drive them both insane.

Pixal finds herself talking about more useless things with Lloyd than she has in her existence, pointless conversations in circles with each other. She also finds she doesn’t entirely mind. She’s become quite good at quipping back and forth with him, at least. It’s different than the kind of talk she has with Zane, lacking in the depth of feeling with the love they share. Her exchanges with Lloyd are lighter, though that’s not to say they’re less sincere.

For example, Zane hasn’t tried to teach her how to redesign a gi in poor lighting in the early hours of the morning because he’s bored out of his mind, that’s for sure.

“I’m teaching you how to sew,” Lloyd corrects, wincing as he accidentally stabs himself with the needle. “And I’m not redesigning the whole thing, I’m just adding some designs to spice it up.”

“I did not know you were allowed to wear colors other than green,” Pixal comments.

Lloyd pauses, squinting at the monitor. “You’re teasing me,” he finally says. “You’re making fun of how much green this gi has in it.”

“I would never,” Pixal replies, her tone flat and even. “The intricacies of your human humor evade me—”

“Human humor, nice—”

“—unlike the unusually bright shade of green you’ve chosen will fail to evade any eyes of your enemies.”

“I knew you were making fun of me!” Lloyd accuses, then flinches as he stabs his finger again trying to point at her. “And bright colors are our thing. Being subtle is, uh…not. Usually.”

Pixal is losing the battle to laugh at his expression by the minute. “I am shocked.”

Lloyd glares at the monitor, shifting his sewing to rest on his knees as he slouches in the car seat. “How’d you even get so good at sarcasm, anyways,” he mutters. “Zane still doesn’t get it half the time.”

“Perhaps it is part of my glowing personality,” Pixal says. Lloyd gives a huff of laughter, relenting.

“Fair enough,” he says, shifting in his seat again. “Fine, you win. The green is probably too bright, but that’s not the point. I’m gonna show you how to do a backstitch."

Pixal falls quiet, letting Lloyd gesture with the needle as he explains. There are a hundred, a thousand tutorials she could pull up online, digitized knowledge instantly learned on all the countless types of stitches she could use, sorted and categorized in neat columns of use and effectiveness. All of them more detailed, more easily understood than Lloyd’s absent rambling and unsteady hands as he struggles with the end of a knot.

Not one of them will care whether or not Pixal learns the odd way Zane likes to loop his stitches, or will quietly add which stitches knit skin back together quickest.

So Pixal ignores her programming, and does her best to follow Lloyd’s rambling instructions, watching as his scarred fingers tug another thread of dull gold through the green mess of fabric, the city quiet around them.

“You never did tell me where you learned how to sew,” Pixal says, as Lloyd starts up a new thread of black on the other side of the gi. “Was that something the others taught you in training?”

“They’d have to know how to be able to teach it,” Lloyd snickers. “And, uh, no. I taught myself to back at Darkley’s.”

“Oh,” Pixal falters. She’s heard about Darkley’s, both from Zane and the legal reports she’s read online. Neither gave a positive impression of the place. Her mind is suddenly filled with images of a younger Lloyd trying to give himself stitches, and her heart twists.

Lloyd starts, seemingly having picked up on her train of thought. “I mean, I did it for fun, mostly. I like sewing,” he explains. “It’s useful. You can pull things back together, and fix ‘em.”

Pixal is quiet, but she hopes Lloyd takes her silence as agreement with his motive. She likes to think he knows her well enough for that, by now.

************

Pixal finds, somewhere during their fourth month alone, that she’s glad the team elected to stick her and Lloyd together. Not because she doesn’t want to be with Zane — there’s never a moment she doesn’t miss him, and with every day that passes her resolve to keep her secret from him grows weaker, as the longing for actual connection grows stronger.

But there are conversations she can have with Lloyd that she can never have with Zane, and the dangerous thing about spending time with Lloyd, Pixal finds, is that they’re more similar than she’s realized.

“Sometimes I think I’m jealous,” Lloyd whispers to her one night. It’s one of the bad ones, the ones where their enemies struck too sudden to stop, and the mission ends in the hospital. “I think I’m jealous of Zane, and I hate myself for it.”

Pixal is quiet, trying to pick apart the tone of his voice in the words he’s just spoken, and factors in the victims they’ve just left behind at the hospital. She finds herself no closer to an answer.

“Is it the metal skin part?” she finally asks, though she knows that’s wrong. “The, what was it, technical immortality?”

“No,” Lloyd shakes his head. “I’m not afraid of dying,” he says emphatically, his fingers fluttering at over the steering wheel, tapping incessantly with unspent energy. “I don’t want to, but that’s — it’s not what I’m scared of. I’m more scared of how I go out.”

He swallows, and his fingers move to dance over the woven bracelet on his wrist instead, twisting at the tiny beads and tracing senseless designs in constant, steady movement. It’s a motion he does often, and it had puzzled Pixal at first. She’d decided to write it off as an odd tick, a way to spend excess energy.

Now, she recognizes the desperate kind of reassurance that movement gives. She understands too well the need to remind yourself that you can move — that your body will obey you and you alone.

Pixal thinks back to the other factors in tonight’s accident, of the way the drugged man’s eyes had cleared when they’d finally turned him over to the police, the way he’d sworn he’d never do such a thing in his right mind. She thinks of the way the first victim had thrown themselves over their companion.

That victim hadn’t made it to the hospital.

“Ah,” Pixal says, quietly.

She’s silent again, and she thinks back to when she’d met him, the very first time. She recalls the way her programming had rebelled against her in favor of the Overlord, corrupting her body and forcing it against her, twisting everything she was and wanted to be into something different.

She thinks back again, to the searing-hot anger, the terror, the despair as she was torn apart, piece by piece like a machine, burning out at the whims of another. Her end purposeless, her demise belonging to someone else, just like every other part of her.

She thinks of the last glimpse she’d caught of Zane, bright and beautiful as a supernova. Burning with the terrible brilliance of his own, determined choice. Terrible, because the death of something always is. Beautiful, because it was his own. Zane died, not a machine, not a weapon, not a tool of anyone or anything, but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves. Pixal could’ve died for spare parts.

Never again, she promises herself. If she goes out, she goes out on her own terms. This time, they choose the end of their own destiny themselves.

In hindsight, it’s the kind of promise they’re both too young to make, but neither of them have ever seen themselves as such, and promises like that are easy.

“Love can be terrible, sometimes,” Lloyd murmurs. Pixal watches him scrub at the blood on his uniform, and thinks how ironically well-timed it is that he finished the stitching on his new gi this morning. “Sometimes I forget how ugly it can be.”

************

The end of their nighttime stakeouts begins with a break-in at Mr. Borg’s tower. Lloyd argues that she should get to call it her father’s tower, if she wants, but the ninja aren’t the only ones Pixal’s hiding herself from.

And then Lloyd gets very tense at the thought of fathers very fast, and they never finish the conversation.

They stay at the edge of the bridge long after the parachute, emblazoned with the unmistakable visage of Lloyd’s father, disappears from sight. Pixal wonders if it’s burned into Lloyd’s eyes, like the way she’s read black spots linger in humans’ vision after they’ve looked at something too bright. The way Lloyd stares at the river, his shoulders tense and his teeth worrying at his lip, she thinks she might be right.

They’re waiting on the report from the commissioner —they’re waiting for anything, anyone who can offer them any explanation of what’s going on. Pixal’s reminded of how much she loathes this kind of waiting.

“It could be—” Lloyd begins, then breaks off, his voice wavering. He swallows, and Pixal can see the way his fists clench tightly from the cameras they’ve put in his car. There’s a fierce part of her that longs to reveal herself, to meet his eyes herself and offer some semblance of comfort. But there’s a time and place for things, and Pixal isn’t ready.

“It could be anything,” Lloyd finally continues, his voice small. “It could — it doesn’t mean anything. It could mean nothing, right?”

Pixal is silent, her mind racing. She’s run the calculations over and over in her head already, scouring the internet for anything related to the bikers. She’s been foolish, she realizes — they both have. Letting the gang go unnamed for so long, thinking nothing of it. Now, with the name flashing vibrant across Pixal’s vision, a part of her wants to let them go nameless just a bit longer.

Before she can answer, Lloyds phone goes off with a sharp ping, just as Pixal’s sensors alert her to the message from the commissioner. Lloyd snatches for his phone like it’s on fire, and Pixal’s already scanning the message frantically, as if she can salvage this if she’s fast enough, save Lloyd from this one pain.

Lloyd’s gotten much better at reading quickly though, these days.

She can pinpoint the moment he reaches the last paragraph, because his breath hitches. There’s a long, pressing pause of silence, Lloyd’s hands trembling as they clutch weakly at his phone. Then it’s punctured by a reedy, wheezing gasp, and Pixal’s suddenly wishing she’d revealed herself after all.

Instead, all she has is her voice as Lloyd crumples, crouching over in visible distress. Pixal’s mind races, recalling everything Zane’s ever told her about his team, the way their panic manifests in different shades. Lloyd’s is quiet but desperate, rapid breathes that stutter as his eyes slide more and more into a frightening kind of blankness.

“Lloyd, please, listen to my voice,” she begs, trying to reach him in the only way she can. “Please, you have to breathe—”

“He’s gone,” Lloyd rasps, unhearing of her words. “He’s s’posed to be gone, it’s supposed to be over, I’m supposed to be done—”

Pixal fights back the sense of overwhelming helplessness. She knows loss. She knows how to finish his sentence. He’s supposed to be done grieving, done mourning, done clinging to false scraps of hope that his father isn’t lost forever only to be met with heartbreak.

And now, to be met with the possibility of something so much worse.

“We’ll stop them,” she tells him, unflinching. “We won’t let it happen.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a vivid green where they stare at her through the monitor, almost ghostly in the misting light reflecting from the river.

He’s silent, but Pixal is, too.

Pixal remembers the way her head had spun when she’d first picked up the traces of Zane in the system, how the world had rushed then steadied, flooding with color as she’d realized he might not be lost after all. She remembers the surging, overwhelming flood of joy, that someone she’d thought she lost might live after all. She remembers being so happy, at even the smallest chance to get him back, because the voice was Zane’s, without a doubt.

She watches the color seep from Lloyd’s expression as his shoulders shudder, the words from the commissioner’s message almost echoing through the air. Watches the terror as the both of them fill the silence.

Will we?

The radio scratches, as if echoing Pixal’s anxiety. Love can be terrible, sometimes. She’s underestimated how it also be so cruel.

************

She’s also, apparently, underestimated how the universe on the whole could be so cruel.

She should’ve revealed herself to them from day one. That way, when Harumi’s corrupted programming suddenly ravages through her like an electric shock, she could be reassured they’d at least be familiar with the person they were fighting.

Instead, she doesn’t even get to scream. Pixal’s only able to force out a desperate, broken warning before she’s lost again, drowning in her own body as she’s forced under. Furious panic grips her as she screams without lungs, bashing herself against the overwhelming helplessness that’s taken over her.

Not again, not again, not again—

Her limbs creak and jolt against her will, lashing out at the people she cares most about, and Pixal can’t even rage back in her own voice. She’s sworn, she’s promised herself she’d never let anyone do this to her again — she’s sworn she’d die before she let someone reach into her head and snatch control away, and yet here she is, frozen as her body’s used to target her friends.

If she could cry, she might.

There’s not much more to say than that. She breaks free, her body her own once again, but by then it’s too late.

************

If Pixal had the same gift of foresight that Zane did, maybe she would have seen it coming. Maybe she’d have remembered how similar her and Lloyd are, and that this kind of pained desperation always yields impulsiveness and mistakes.

She doesn’t, though. She barely even manages to do what she’s trying to, which is convincing Lloyd to join the others while they celebrate their victory. Their off-key singing is something he normally wouldn’t hesitate to join in on, she thinks, and she hates Harumi a little more.

Maybe she’ll try his mother next. The expression on Lloyd’s face screams unapproachable, and remains fixedly sullen.

Almost to her surprise, he meets her eyes as she draws near— it’s odd, being able to meet his back — and his own eyes are dark, from despair over Harumi or despair over his father, Pixal isn’t sure. She’s thinking it might be both, when his eyebrows crease, and a flicker of concern cuts through them instead.

“You good?”

It takes her a moment to realize why he’s asking, but the answer is obvious. Her head tilts downward, and she watches as her fingers curl and uncurl. Her movements, her choices. She lets out an even breath.

“As I can be,” she replies. Lloyd nods, and his eyes are understanding. His lips twist in a scowl.

“She shouldn’t have done that to you. That was a low blow.”

Pixal’s mouth curves into a humorless smile. “That it was. She’s rather good at those, isn’t she.”

Lloyd’s eyes shadow again, and he looks away, crossing his arms. “This isn’t supposed to be about me,” he mutters.

“Yes, it is,” Pixal counters. “It is why I came over here, in the first place. She hurt—”

“All of us, and who’s fault is that,” Lloyd snaps, his arms crossing tighter.

“I would hope you know it’s hers,” she says, holding firm.

Lloyd looks away again, biting his lip, and Pixal shifts anxiously, rolling her wrists. The sensation of control sliding away still haunts her, worse than it had the first time. She should be better than this, she tells herself hotly. She’s lived without a body long enough that losing it so briefly shouldn’t effect her this much.

Curse her programming, she thinks, tapping agitatedly at the banister. She knew she should have reinforce it sooner.

“Hey, um.” Lloyd is looking at her again, hesitant. He twists at his bracelet, and his eyes lose a fraction of that darkness. “Kai made this for me, after Morro,” he says. “I kept shredding the sleeves of my uniform, so he told me to mess with this instead, when I needed to remember that…that I was in control.”

He shrugs, hesitant. “We could make you one too, if you wanted. It helps, having something.”

Pixal lets out a steady breath, despite not actually needing to. The action is grounding, she’s found. “I would like that.”

Lloyd gives her a ghost of a smile in return. “Soon as this is over, then.”

There’s a heavy weight to his words, and Pixal’s eyes narrow.

“Lloyd,” she says. He looks at her, his eyes dark. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

He’s quiet, not meeting her eyes, and this is where Pixal should stop him. This is when she should see the end of the road they’ve been on since they started this, and force him to turn before it’s too late.

“I know what I’m doing.”

She doesn’t.

************

Lloyd is battered and bleeding by the time they drag him onto the ship, a gruesome portrait of cruelty. Pixal is frozen as she watches him writhe in Kai’s hold, his screams cracked and wet as he thrashes erratically like a broken thing.

Nya is already barking orders before they’ve even gotten Lloyd fully on the ship, and Zane is running scans with a horrified, wavering focus. Pixal follows Cole as he carries Lloyd to the medbay with a blank numbness, the rush of wind streaming past the Bounty sails thunderously loud in her ears.

This isn’t Lloyd, she thinks, staring at his crumpled form. Lloyd isn’t this battered, broken shell of a person. Lloyd isn’t hazy eyes that fail to recognize them and frantic murmuring through bloody lips. Lloyd is bright-eyed and gentle and would rather die before he screams the way he does when Cole moves him to the table.

Lloyd is her friend, and this is where that promise they made has led them. She knows why Lloyd set out for the prison, hot on the collapse of his own star. She also knows he wouldn’t have chosen to burn out like this.

Cole calls out for Zane, his voice ringing in panic as Lloyd screeches in pain again. Pixal thinks of quiet words in the safety of his car, and she feels sick. This is the ugliness of love, the terrible, hideous side of it.

And Lloyd would hate it, if he could see himself, if he were any semblance of lucid. He’d hate to know just how much better he was at breaking himself than Morro ever was.

Zane is gentle as he pushes past her, but Pixal can feel the tremble in his hands. He’s every bit as rattled as she is, if not more so — Zane’s heart is larger and softer than hers has ever been, and he cares about each and every one of them with a painful intensity. It’s a cruel thing, to have to pull those same people back together with your own hands.

Kai’s eyes are streaming as he clutches at Lloyd’s wrists, pinning him in place. Zane’s hands waver again over one of the jagged wounds near Lloyd’s ribcage, the green of his uniform already dyed dark in blood, soaking over the careful stitches Pixal watched him put in himself.

Pixal finally finds her footing, reminding herself of the solid wood beneath her feet. She recalls the steady, smooth stitch Lloyd’s scarred fingers traced out for her.

“Here.” She takes the needle from Zane’s hands, squeezing his briefly before letting go. “I can do it.”

She sets the needle against Lloyd’s skin and wonders what kind of stitch it’d take to pull your heart back together.

************

Pixal cannot cry. It’s one of the features Mr. Borg spent hours debating, weighing the pros and cons of giving her the ability before he was truly sure how rust-proof she was. He’d never gotten the chance to, as the Overlord had interrupted him, then Pixal had lost any body to give the ability to cry to, which had eliminated the need entirely.

She cannot cry, but she can hurt, and the rain that streams through her hair, dripping down her forehead spotting raindrops on her cheeks, could be tears if she pretended.

She doesn’t, though, because tears are a waste of water and overall useless in the grand scheme of things. She doubts they’d have helped her fare any better in the battle with Colossi, either.

Tears won’t bring anyone back.

Lloyd cries anyways. She can’t see him, but she can hear it in his voice, the way it wavers and breaks over the radio, nasally tones pronounced.

He’s barely able to gasp a few coordinates to her before he cuts the radio off abruptly. Pixal’s spent enough time with him to envision his scarred fingers snapping it off with a particular desperation, green sparking from his hands in distress.

She reminds herself those sparks are gone, now, bled away into nothing like the vivid green of Lloyd’s eyes had. The thought makes her sadder than she’d expected. She had a joke, about his eyes, she had wanted to make. Now that she has a body, and her own set of glowing green eyes, she’d — there was something he would’ve laughed at, she thought —

It doesn’t matter, now. Neither of them are likely to laugh anytime soon.

The coordinates blink brightly in her vision, and she’s almost surprised she managed to key them in. She’s running on autopilot, she supposes. It could be ironic — she’s been so desperate for control, it’s been so important that she’s the one feeling. Now, she’d give anything not to feel at all.

She lets out a shaky breath, dispelling the mist in her vision left from the rain. She leans forward, just over the edge of the building she’s crouched on, and her loose hair falls forward, silvery and synthetic and horribly tangled. Irritated, she reaches for another hair tie, and her hands falter around her wrist.

Lloyd had promised her a bracelet there. But he’d promised Kai would make the bracelet, hadn’t he, and Kai couldn’t make the bracelet if he was dead, could he.

Pixal blinks, her breath hitching. She’s been so numb to the pain of Zane’s loss, it hasn’t yet occurred to her that she’s losing Kai, too. And Jay, and Cole, and—

She sucks in the same shuddery kind of breath she’s seen Lloyd do, and carefully fists her hand in the area of her uniform above her chest. Her fingers dig in tightly, clutching in a hopeless attempt to feel some sort of comfort she knows she’ll never find.

But perhaps, for these few seconds, she can pretend the action is holding her together.

************

“It was inevitable,” Pixal tells Lloyd blankly, as he rasps out his third apology in the dark cover of their small hideout. “That one of us would fall, eventually. It had nothing to do with you.”

Lloyd swallows thickly. “It could’ve — it should’ve been—”

He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. Pixal’s hand shoots out, clamping tightly around his wrist, and there’s a beat of gratitude that she doesn’t need to rely on her voice alone anymore.

“Don’t.” Her voice is strung tighter than the tension in their shoulders. “You cannot change anything. You can’t, Lloyd, and you should not wish to — to change it that way.”

Lloyd jerks his hand free, wiping miserably at his eyes. He sets it back down within her reach, though, and if Pixal were any different, she’d take it.

But Pixal isn’t that different from Lloyd at all in the end, and neither of them reach for the other’s hand, no matter how desperately they crave the contact. Fear is more familiar, and it’s easier to give into it than it is the clawing need for comfort in your chest, after all.

“Still,” Lloyd finally whispers. “Still.”

Pixal swallows. She doesn’t disagree. If one of them had to fall, she knows she gladly would have taken it upon herself. She knows the others care for her, certainly, but she also knows her place in the grand scheme of things. They were six before she came along, and even now she’s kept far too many secrets to be fully counted among them.

She listens to Lloyd’s quiet, cracked voice, and she wonders if he’s thinking that they were five before he came along, younger than Pixal got to know him as.

Now they’re three, hollow and heartbroken. Though counting herself as one whole feels like cheating, right now.

Pixal squeezes her eyes shut, and wonders what it’s like to cry. Perhaps it helps, though Lloyd doesn’t look any less miserable.

************

“I was thinking,” Lloyd tells her, during one of the precious few quiet moments they have while trying to overthrow Garmadon and Harumi. Pixal’s turning the tiny tea flower he’d given her over in her hands, a part of her mind already marking articles about flower-pressing, another part wondering if it’s already too late to save the blossom. “About that promise we made, before all this.”

Pixal finally tucks the flower into the pocket of her uniform, pressed close to her chest. If anything, it can be a reminder of the lives that are safe — the life that’s coming back to her, if she has to drag him back from another realm herself. “And?”

Lloyd’s hands twist together. “Maybe we should focus more on staying alive.”

Pixal coughs out a laugh, breathless and startled. Lloyd wrinkles his nose at her, but his eyes are amused, even with their light lost. “I mean, the emphasis would be on keeping everyone else alive, but it’s kinda hard to do that if we’re dead, so…yeah. Priorities.”

“Staying alive should always be a priority,” Pixal corrects him, but she tugs the edge of his armor out of place with a smile.

“Why didn’t you teach me how to graffiti?” she nods at the designs on the green leather. “Or was this another Darkley’s tradition.”

“This is a refined art, called whatever I had on me that showed up on dark green,” Lloyd grumbles, fixing his armor. “I’ll teach it to you when we get out of this.”

“Another reason why staying alive would be a more productive focus,” Pixal points out. “I’ve heard teaching is easier when you’re alive.”

“And I’ve heard you’re a real riot,” Lloyd mutters. “It’s a promise, okay? I promise to teach you how to do cool armor design if you promise not to disappear into another realm on me.”

Pixal nods, adjusting her own armor tighter as screams ring out from a street nearby. “A promise, then.”

She keeps both the promise and the flower, the tiny blossom dried and faded by the time she’s escaped from the prison, heart racing with leftover adrenaline as Zane sweeps her into his arms. She clutches back every bit as tight, listening to his breathless laughter as cheers rise from the streets behind them, the smoke drifting across the early morning sky above them pale against the lightening blue. Pixal buries her face in his shoulder and breathes, tucking the moment away in her heart where it won’t fade. There’s a future stretching out before her, and she’s got the limbs to walk her path on her own, but all she wants right now is the steady ground beneath her feet and the bright laughter of what she’s managed to keep.

Lloyd meets them shortly after, his own promise kept as he tears his gaze from his father, handing him off to the authorities before sprinting for the others. Pixal barely snags a moment alone with him, and even then no one’s particularly keen on letting him out of their sights.

He meets her eyes as they pick their way through the wrecked streets, the city more alive around them than it’s been in weeks. In the dark of the early morning, Pixal’s eyes glow a bright green, reflecting oddly in the windows they pass. It’s always been her preferred color, in contrast to Zane’s bright blue. Lloyd glances at her, his own eerily green eyes glowing back. He bites his lip, but it’s to hold back real laughter this time.

“My eyes were green first,” she tells him.

“Sue me,” he shoots back, before Kai’s throwing an arm over his shoulders again, tucking Lloyd neatly in between him and Nya. Pixal smothers a laugh at the look on his face, and tightens her own arm further where it’s linked firmly in Zane’s.

It’s going to be an easy promise to keep, she thinks.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #pixal #there was a point to this but it got lost in pix and lloyd do arts and crafts #either way i'd die for both these characters #ninjago where is the pixal love i miss her #my fic

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straighttohellbuddy · 3 years ago

Note

📓 !!

Okay im so excited please know I think about How The Light Gets In's world every day still, and so anyways here is a side story I want to write but there's a lot of set up regarding the reader and eef becoming friends again. For context, they were incredibly close around 2014-2017, but people were getting creepy and invasive and demanding about their friendship (think 2012 toxic side of the Phandom, if that makes sense), and a lot of the reader's relationships were strained at that time because while they had been successful before, they were absolutely blowing up after their first album released and they became far more mainstream. They felt like they were bothering the people they had become closest to, both because they're worried that they're a bother, and because gossip rags and paps would harrass their friends looking for a scoop, and so they ended up just completely cutting off contact without warning one day right before they went on their first tour. the start of HTLGI is about 3 years since they'd been in proper contact with any of the creators they were close to at that time.

DON'T LOOK AT ME on their 2017 ep Hyperfocus was a more general song in response to everything that had been happening in their life around that time, with a focus on how they stop associating with anyone for a while, without outright addressing it, but on their latest album n o s t a l g i a, read at 5am ft. Troye was specifically written at the start of quarantine, when the reader was getting back into YouTube, about their feelings regarding how their friendship with ethan ended, as they spent a lot of this time looking back of their YouTube career, and he was the person they were closest to for a very long time, before they iced everyone out.

OKAY SO THERES MORE OF THE BACKGROUND OF THE WHOLE FIC AND THE READER BUT

Werewolf Ethan & Mark. I'm sorry I don't make the rules. They have golden retriever energy you cannot change my mind. But also because this is the HTLGI you know that supernatural characteristics are able to be activated rather than just triggered by the full moon. What I'm trying to say is since this is set in the year of Unus Annus, they film a video together that's like, you know that show where a person has to try and outwit a professional tracker? Except its the reader being tracked by two werewolves at night in a national park. Reader is wearing some sort of night vision camera on themselves so whenever it cuts to them the audience can't actually see how they're using their powers, if that makes sense.

Also the reader agreed to this knowing it would probably be when they ended up telling Mark and Ethan about them being a demon.

Video is titled Hunting Down An Old Friend

A few Moments that the boys edit out:

The reader using their stupidly sharp prehensile tail to swing from tree branches, though they leave in shots where the reader's tail can't be seen.

Knowing that with the werewolves having advanced hearing, the reader would give themselves away by talking to the camera, they take a few minutes having flown up to a high tree branch, to pull out a notebook and do a little sketch of how Mark and Ethan appear in their Demon True Sight, and holding it up to their camera.

Werewolves being one of the animals who can kind of sense demons without being able to identify them, essentially like dogs can sense natural disasters and are often good judges of character, this can be heightened on command for werewolves. There's about 15 minutes of footage cut out of the boys discussing or mentioning how this place has awful vibes and that they should have done this during the day. It gets worse as they get closer to the reader, who didn't realise that the boys hadn't thought to ever use that particular power around them before.

("I say this with so much love and appreciation for you, dude," Ethan yells, looking up at you from the base of the tree they'd finally found you in, "but I- this is making me anxious I feel like something terrible's gonna happen, and we should probably get out of here and film the rest of the video back at Mark's." And behind him, Mark's nodding, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyes scanning the trees for whatever was most likely the cause of this terrible impending doom.

Oh. It's you. And they don't know its you.

Now or never, you suppose.

"Can you cut the cameras for a second? You're going to be fine I promise," you called back, and though they obligingly did, they both seemed antsy. You cleared your throat awkwardly, "that... that terrible feeling, that's not the park or anything in it- well I mean, it is, but it's just- it's me."

and later

"Dude your wings smell like rotten eggs."

"To YOU Ethan! And no they don't!"

"If it makes you feel better they smell like burning and rotten eggs."

"It does not."

(for reference, when enhancing their sense of smell werewolves can kind of distinguish various supernatural creatures, or parts of supernatural creatures. Some creatures have an inherent scent, but some, like angels and demons, only have distinct scents when they've activated certain attributesor abilities; demon wings smell like fire and brimstone, which unfortunately means burning and rotten eggs. I like to think angels wings are like the love potion in Harry Potter that smells like the things you love the most. Mark and Ethan usually don't enhance it around each other because they smell like wet dog to the other)

This gets about 2k notes on tumblr. The reader likes it:

Ethan finally finding Y/N at the end of Hunting Down An Old Friend (2020) Colourised.

Other things to note regarding all this:

It takes a while to rebuild their friendship to the point where they're comfortable enough to be on camera together (eef and reader specifically).

However, the Unus Annus video is the first thing they properly do together, and the reader, in an effort to connect more and make up for the past, will join in multiplayer gaming streams if asked.

Impromptu duet in proximity Among Us of Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy, which has their respective chats and fandoms losing their minds, except it stops abruptly after the first chorus as they both remember the opening lines of the second verse (make it easy, say I never mattered -- those lyrics hit a little too close to home)

But also the reader convinces him to join him for a proper cover in like, February of 2021, and it's something deeply sappy (I'm thinking Bon Iver by mxmtoon because I think its sweet and fits them well)

Also Ethan being reminded that the reader is kind of a much bigger deal than when they'd been friends before.

designed to hurt (touch me) from their ep Working On It is nominated for a Grammy for Track of the Year, and n o s t a l g i a wins Best Pop Album (because it's my fic and I said so)

FIRST OF ALL designed to hurt (touch me) is a beautifully produced song about Corpse (which people do not know) and the title itself is literally making fun of something he said IMAGINE his reaction to it being Grammy Nominated 😂😂😂 God he'd be proud but lowkey fuming, meanwhile the moment the nominations are announced the reader tweets:

me: here is an album where I processed my entire world view including heartfelt explorations of the trauma of existing and oversharing in the public eye from a young age without the traditional barrier between audience and entertainer

the grammys: that's cute BUT you know the song you wrote to bully your boyfriend and also be horny on main for him before you guys were even dating? THAT deserves its own recognition.

meanwhile Ethan's like..... this is the same person who I filmed a video with playing cards against humanity, and you laughed so hard you almost threw up. I am very proud but deeply confused.

The Hot Meme of Late April 2021 is "2 time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" with a gif, still, or quote from the reader where they're just being an absolute chaos gremlin.

Of course we have "If I bleached my asshole for charity I'd do it tastefully."

2 Time Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N speaking to their actual boyfriend in the year of our lord 2020: You are being executed for Clown Crimes.

ethan posts a short video to twitter simply of his screen where he's renaming a folder from "Never Before Seen Images of Grammy Award Winning Artist Y/N" simply changing it to 2 time Artist. The reader responds specifically to his tweet with a video of themselves asking Google how to hard reset someone else's computer.

So many screenshots from old videos surface that week.

I miss this world. Sorry this is rambly!!

#shut ur pretty mouth #how the light gets in #corpse husband x reader #your local homosexual with no chill #htlgi

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itsamejin · 4 years ago

Text

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!

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Gundham’s and Kazuichi’s mangaka S/O wants to draw them

Gundham Tanaka:

· Though you were the Super High School Level Mangaka you specialized in historical fantasy! You absolutely adored doing research and finding new mythical beasts and species to sketch and incorporate into your work. It was no surprise that Gundham became your muse the moment you two met!

· Gundham would allow you to visit his creatures and draw them to use as bases for cryptids and monsters of all sorts in your manga. The four Dark Devas often acted as your pose models given how unusually animated they were for hamsters.

· Having asked the Overlord of Ice to allow you near his animals so often you spent much time together and eventually started dating.

· “My Queen, the Stringer of Fates, what curse dares to plague your soul?! You’ve not touched the pages with which you create and destroy worlds, as if it were deadly to do so! You’ve yet to search out a demon to immortalize. Not even have you greeted the four Dark Devas of Destruction as you always have.” You huffed lazily watching the rabbit Gundham was currently grooming. “Artists’ block. I can’t seem to draw or write anything. Either I just stare at a blank page for hours, or I start something which quickly dissolves into an incoherent mess!” Rubbing your temples, you grumbled at the clogged feeling fogging your mind. “I did pull a few all-nighters last week. Maybe I’m just drained. But if things keep going like this, I’ll miss my deadline! I already asked for an extension on it last week, I can’t keep doing this!”

· Gundham watched as you picked up the sketch pad and pencil. There was this stiffness in your movements. Your hand which once flowed about gracefully like a bird in flight now paved plain straight lines. Your eyes darted about unable to focus on anything. “UGH! I can’t even draw a proper circle for the rabbit’s body!” Sinking into your seat you tossed your sketch pad and pencil aside. “Perhaps a day of respite is in order.” “No, I already took a day off yesterday. I feel I’m even worse now than I was two day ago.”

· The Devas quickly scurried over to you, hopping into your lap, or climbing onto your shoulder to nuzzle your cheek. “… thanks.” Gently petting the two in your lap you sighed in defeat.

· It was at that Gundham abruptly stood up. “Where is my Queen, and what have you done with her, villain?!” “… Huh?” “MY Queen would never rot away so quickly into a decrepit state such as this! She’d fight and claw till her final breath! She’d never faulter so easily!” “I Am, your Queen.” “Hmph! No, you are not. Now, tell me where she is.” You marched right up to Gundham glaring at him. “I’m right here! I am your Queen, the Stringer of Fates!”

· It started as a chuckle which boomed into uproarious laughter! “There you are. That determination, your will to live has returned to your eyes. I am glad to have you back.” Surprisingly, you did feel like you had more energy than before. “So, shall we be off? A piece of you is still missing and we must search it out less you start to fade away once more.” “… Yeah, a date sounds nice right now.”

· As a bright blush dusted his cheeks, the Overlord of Ice took your hand into his bandaged one, the other taking your bag of sketch supplies, he led you out of the school grounds into the great beyond!

· The day was filled with fun and laughter as you raced from place to place, doing anything you could think of. A walk in the park, a trip to the arcade, lunch at a café, shopping at a bookstore, and anything else you could have dreamed of.

· As the sun began to set, Gundham and you found yourselves at the clear beach, dancing around barefoot, not a care in the world. “… Gundham. Thank you, today was amazing.” His entire face instantaneously flushed hearing his true name being called. In that moment he just looked so beautiful to you. His sheepish smile, those tender eyes, just, everything about him.

· “May I draw you?” “… Of course, my Queen.”

· And thus you drew, having completely forgotten that morning or the past few days, you were struggling.

· “Ah! Your depiction captured my true form! I should have known you could see through my mortal guise!” He so happily admired your drawing with sparkling eyes.

· While he was distracted you worked on another piece, one of a dark king holding his queen close on the soft shores of the beach.

Kazuichi Soda:

· You never held much interest in machinery till you came to Hope’s Peak and met Kazuichi. It seemed just about every time you saw him, he was tinkering with something, from a small robot toy to a monster truck engine. Often times the parts of whatever he was working on were spread out, and then seeing how they all fit together fascinated you. Without realizing it you’d end up just watching him work for hours and sketching out the pieces and tools he was using.

· Quickly this fascination bled into your own work, incorporating steampunk-esque elements into it. And the more elements you added, the more references you needed. At first you tried getting some on your own, but you’d just end up injuring your hands and fingers in some way or you’d break the pieces.

· “Look, you got me into this mess and now you have to take responsibility.” “W-what!?” Before Kazuichi could panic you placed an old, rusted pocket watch before him. “How do I disassemble this!?” For a week or two after you’d bring some new item to Kazuichi to disassemble and reassemble. You eagerly sketched out the pieces you needed the references of and more.

· Quickly you and Kazuichi became friends. You would chatter away as you did your own things. Before you knew it the two of you ended up spending time together just to be together, no drawing and no tinkering.

· Kazuichi would go to you for advice for his unrequited crush on Princess Sonia to which you’d try your best to help, even if it did hurt a little given your crush on the mechanic. She wasn’t the only thing he spoke of though, so you had plenty of other conversations.

· Kazuichi certainly liked chatting so when one day he was quiet you got a bit worried… Then you remembered something. “Oh Soda. You’ve never been on a school trip before, right?” “Hmm, uh, yeah. I skipped out on the only one I got a chance to go on.” “Because of financial issues, right.” “Yeah.” “Well, I happen to be going on a trip all over Europe for background references and I was thinking who better to take along than my best friend and best mechanic I know!” The news certainly perked him right up, and he excitedly chattered on about traveling! Quickly the news spread, and it ended up becoming a class trip! Honestly, though a trip alone with Soda sounded lovely, you more enjoyed seeing how ecstatic he was to be going on an actual class trip with everyone.

· The trip was fantastic, it seemed to be nonstop fun. Often you’d forget that you were being payed to go on this trip for work and that you needed to get reference materials, thankfully Mikan took more than enough reference photos for you.

· Though during the trip, you noticed how Kazuichi, though still friendly, was a bit more reserved than usual. When you asked him what was wrong, he said he appreciated the concern, but it was something he had to work out on his own.

· Eventually your trip took you all to France the city of love. The place was certainly an artist’s dream, you found yourself drawing nonstop there. It was amazing!

· At one point in your trip your class wanted to get to a restaurant at the top of a rather large hill, but the only way to get there was via a thin road by car. So, you, Kazuichi, Sonia and your driver were the last to get to the restaurant.

· Then the car broke down. Kazuichi immediately went to check the engine while Sonia stood at the edge of the road, looking out at the sunset. It was a gorgeous sight, her profile, the sunset, the city lights, everything. You had started sketching out the scenery when a though struck you.

· You elbowed Kazuich, gaining his attention. You then leaned in real close while still looking at Sonia, not noticing the blush spreading on his cheeks as he kept looking to you. “Hey Soda, now’s your chance. This view is absolutely romantic, and you’re in the city of love. Don’t you think this is the perfect time to ask out the girl you like?” This hurt, it really did, but seeing how happy he was to be going on a school trip without worry like he always wanted, you could hardly imagine his joy if Sonia got together with him at a time like this. It hurt, but you just wanted to see him happy.

· “… Ask out the girl I like, huh…… Okay.”

· Turning to you he placed his hands atop your shoulders. “Y/N I have a crush on you. Please go out on a date with me.” “… Wait? I thought… what about Nevermind?” “I, well, yeah, I do like her, but… I really like you… I… That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out lately and... so I... You get it, don’t you!?” “… Soda, please let me draw you!” “Huh?” “Well, if we start going out, we’ll be boyfriend and girlfriend, right? I’d like to have something to commemorate the moment by.” “S/O!” He pulled you into a tight hug, giddy out of his mind.

· You ended up drawing him at the restaurant. He loved the drawing so much he took a picture to use as his phone’s lock screen. From then on you often drew him for references for poses and though all great, his favorite would forever be the first one you made of him. It was made to celebrate you getting together, it was always so special to him.

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laceymorganwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The damn jacket

Word count: 2,210

Pairing: none rlly

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, like a sentence of Mötley Crüe slander xD, um bad structure??

A/N: this is a mess. modern AU, kinda character analysis, idek but it was fun. Inspired by @pirate-shrimp (if any of u catch the MSI reference I will marry u on the fucking spot)

Kid had bar vibes. He was the kind of guy you found sitting in the corner of your local pub, just far away from the others not to be forced into a conversation but also not far away enough to seem lonely.

He was the local phenomena of the man you didn´t want to get close to but whose story you wanted to know at the same time. The guy who pushed people away because he was more scared of hurting them than being hurt.

Hell, he doubted he could get hurt anymore at this point, over the years he´s lost so many friendships, been betrayed so much by the people he considered the closest to him, it was laughable.

Maybe that was why he didn´t let anyone get close anymore, why he always seemed so distant, his thoughts stuck in a past long gone or perhaps a future he knew he´d never have.

A good for nothing college drop out, those were the hard facts he had to face every day.

It wasn´t because he was dumb that he quit, far from it. Kid wasn´t thrown out, he quit himself because college was too restricting for him. There were some classes that were nice enough, but working towards exams really wasn´t his style, he wanted to do something, anything really.

People like him didn´t have it easy, society measured your worth in degrees and results. But what if the way was so much more fun than the end result?

Kid had a lot of jobs to make a living, never staying in one though, he got bored so easily. How could anyone expect anyone to keep doing the same routinized thing for over 40 years? It was insanity. To him anyways.

Being punk, never fitting in, living the life of sex, drugs and rock n roll…. It all seemed so much more fun than it really was.

Kid´s band was a bad ripoff of Mötley Crüe, though some might argue that the band itself was.

Yes, he fit into some stereotypes that he was so sick of hearing: playing in a band, being that eccentric lead singer that caused too much trouble for his own good, though the second part wasn´t true anymore. Lately he just wanted people to leave him alone.

It was nice being a small town band, the bonds with your audience were so much stronger, it felt like hanging out with friends rather than playing a show for money. Kid never wanted that feeling to end, he never wanted to end up like those big bands who lost their spark, who lost that glimmer in their eyes, their racing heart when Killer counted and initiated their first song, the immense feeling of belonging whenever the crowd would sing his words back to him.

This.

This was what he was made for. Passion. That was what was missing when he was studying, he needed to do things, be that sketching or tinkering with his car or writing everything down that was going on in his head.

In truth Kid started writing because it all got too much, too many fake people around him, too many people acting like his best friend and leaving him cold the next day, too many people telling him they loved him and then spitting at him, gossiping behind his back.

A part of him missed the times when he cared, when he was shocked and hurt by this. By now it´s become so common, like the energy drink before work.

Kid didn´t have the dream rockstar life, not the one where people looked so cool shooting up in those movies, that shit was fucked up and society was sick for portraying it like that.

He only had bad experiences with drugs, living in a small town like this he saw the addicts everywhere, sad creatures who couldn´t support themselves anymore, who got dependent on things that destroyed them because nobody would help, because nobody gave a shit about them. Why would they? They were good for nothings who couldn´t work ten hours in some shitty job that didn´t pay them enough to pay rent.

The system wasn´t corrupt? Yeah, bullshit.

The problem he faced was that of a fleeting society, a society that sped up so much, never once slowing down and looking around to see what was out there. They never thought about expanding their horizons.

Schoolings were looked down upon, but at the same time cheered for. It was so strange… the craft was dying but also needed.

Nothing held value anymore, nothing lasted, nothing strove to.

Kid was happy with his life as it was now. He hated being selfish and arrogant but learned that a certain amount was needed to survive, you needed to look out for yourself before you could look out for anyone else. A local rockstar, frequent bar visitor, the best mechanic in town. All those fit him so well but at the same time he looked the part, oh how he hated it sometimes. The acquaintances he made because of his looks, because people spread rumors about him, making him more myth than man, it was pretty tiring.

Especially when they all were disappointed by the rather bland truth.

Not that Kid was bland in any way, it was just that people expected so much more from him, they wanted him to be this rebel, this punk, this heartbreaker.

Expected him to have tattoos and piercings but the truth was that he had such a low pain tolerance it was embarrassing. Yes, he bore every punch and kick he ever got without any complaints because there were parts of him that told him he deserved it, parts that hated him more than anything else.

Just try it…. there´s nothing you can do that I haven´t already done myself, you can´t hate me more than I hate myself.

Ah yes, the typical phenomenon of this generation: being way too soft and overly sensitive.

That was it, they weren´t more considerate and aware of their mental health and other people´s wellness, of identity and morals, of things that got swiped under the rug because ´it was always this way´. Why the fuck would people so desperately try to keep something misogynistic, racist and homophobic up? Just because it existed the majority of time doesn´t mean it was a good system.

Fuck, it never was.

And Kid was sick of everyone playing down those things. So what if he was a fucking crybaby and didn´t get humor? He wouldn´t take this shit anymore, yeah it mostly didn´t affect him but he got angry beyond belief for the people it did affect.

It wasn´t fair.

He couldn´t do anything? It wouldn´t matter anyway? It wouldn´t make a difference? So fucking what. He´d never know if he didn´t try.

Just now Kid finished up his work at the garage, closing up shop for the day. It was a busy day, many people who were driving through came to him to do a check up, others came by for their regular reparation. He loved that busy meant fun in his world. He was so fucking happy that he could do the things that brought him joy, that burned like a fire in his heart. And no, he didn´t care how cheesy that sounded.

Washing his hands and closing the door behind him he called Killer to let him know he was done. Killer was also just now finishing up his shift at the record shop. Now was their time to rehearse, band practice was always the best part of the day, though quite honestly most of the time it was just the guys hanging out and having a good time. And they wouldn´t have it any other way.

Kid grabbed his jacket and locked the doors before making his way to his car.

The jacket. That damn jacket.

It was where it all started. He bought that old thing from his first ever pay at the garage, his boss told him to spend it on something nice for himself, something that´d make him a man. He didn´t ever ask what he meant by that, his boss said weird things at times. But this was true, at least in a sense.

It was the first time Kid ever stepped foot inside of a second hand store and it was like heaven revealed himself to him, it was pure paradise. Just going through the aisles, finding treasures like no other, it became one of his favorite things to do.

The jacket was the first thing that ever caught his eye, the firs thing he purchased. The black leather with the yellow and dark red details, the skull on the back… it was calling to him. Those were his favorite colors, he didn´t even have to think about it before he bought it.

But what about it made him a man? It was just a jacket after all. But that´s where you´d be wrong.

It was so much more than that.

The very next day he started wearing it religiously, he noticed people staring at him at the streets but this time it wasn´t because he was a loser, it was because he looked fucking cool. The jacket boosted his confidence immensely. And it showed.

His boss complimented him and said that from this day on his journey was only beginning, and how right he was with that.

It was the day he reconnected with his high school friend Killer, he didn´t even know he was back in town, let alone working at his favorite record shop and searching for a band to play drums for. So Kid got his first guitar and played it to death, jamming with Killer and searching for others, thus meeting Heat and Wire, the coolest guys on earth.

He grew so much, finding more and more passion in his life, only his jacket stayed the same. He decided that it was time to change that.

Kid went to the crafts store and bought red leather protectors with a quilting pattern, sewing it to the shoulders of the jacket. He also decided to pimp the skull, making it his own personal jacket in painting on the goggles he wore at work, two knives as a cross because it was edgy and of course: his hair. His untamable hair that would never hold up so he got used to wearing any sort of silly glasses, sometimes even the goggles from work. Hair gel was a lie to him, so was hairspray.

He painted bright red flames in homage to his dyed hair, yeah, it wasn´t just a phase.

Everything was coming together.

He grabbed his stupidly large square blue sunglasses that made him look like a dad. Yes, Kid had a dad style. He loved second hand shirts more than anything, not the boring ones, the ones with the stupidest prints, he wore dad shoes like no one´s business and he was proud of it. He was the cool dad, the cool dad with the big car and puns that were so bad they somehow got good again. But damn, did he have talent with words. Screw not being able to formulate shit in speech, that man could write like a god, or rather the devil. Because, let´s be real, the devil sounds so much better on the mic.

Starting the engine, he drove home to at least make some room to sit for his friends, on the way he shopped for groceries too. Now that he was home he got the snacks, drinks and notebooks ready as well as the tons of pens where he never knew which one worked but never threw any away because somehow he thought he´d exchange the mines. Yeah, as if.

He threw on a black shirt and some black joggers before tying his hair up into a tiny ponytail, still his bangs fell in his face as always. It was annoying so he clipped them back with some black hair clips. He didn´t care if he looked stupid with that, at least he could see clearly now.

But getting a hair cut? No way, he looked too cool for that.

Kid opened the door when the others came and sat down on the couch with his acoustic guitar, lately they decided to play around with reimagining their songs after supporting and motivating Kid to sing rather than growl. He had such a nice guttural and gruff voice, these imperfections when singing, the edges just made the song that much more genuine.

Listening to Kid you just couldn´t help but get mesmerized, the way his biceps flexed when he held the guitar, the emotions in his eyes, the way he frowned and squinted whenever the lyrics got emotional and close to home, it made you want to protect him, to keep him happy, to keep this alive, this wonderful world he created for himself.

The others also scribbled down ideas and practiced new melodies, tried out new lyrics and solos. After a while work mixed in with private chats and the night faded into distant, nostalgic laughter and the crinkles around Kid´s eyes that showed how much it all meant to him.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #one piece drabble #one piece fic #one piece kid #one piece modern au #one piece writing #op #op imagine #op oneshot #op scenario #op kid #op drabble #op fic #op writing #op modern au

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clemanime · 5 years ago

Text

Artistic

A/N: Here you go. Another one. This took me some time cause I was having trouble with staying focused instead of being distracted.

WARNING: Smut, unprotected sex, and if you use an oxygen mask thigh riding

“Excuse me Miss?” She looked up from her spot under the tree. Him. The man she’d been sketching for over a month now. When he first ran past her, she couldn’t help but pull out her sketch book and get to work.

“Yes?” She questioned.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” He cleared his throat. “But I’ve noticed that you’ve been under this same tree every day.” Steve put his hands on his hips, smiling slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

“And you’re on lap number 99?” She shot him a sly smirk.

“And you, correct me if I’m wrong, are shading my features.”

She looked down at her sketch, closing it and pushing it in her bag. “I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat, scratching her head.

“No, it’s fine. Honest.” He smiled as he walked towards her, large arms crossing as he unintentionally towered over her. “I’m glad I could be someone’s inspiration for art.” He leaned his head to the side as he squatted down next to her.

“Well you have a nice body and you’d make a great character for a Webcomic or a superhero comic in general.” She smiled to herself. “Piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, anything you wear would look great on you.” She couldn’t stop talking. “I bet a smirk from you could stop a war.” She stood up. “Can’t blame a girl for admiring your physique.” Her eyebrows rose in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “I...” She grabbed her things, going to walk away but stopping. “Can we pretend that we didn’t have a conversation? Go back to me being the silent woman drawing under a tree?” She could see the sadness in his eyes, her hands shooting out to comfort him but stopped. “Or...” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “Or we don’t forget this conversation?”

“The first woman I’ve approached in over 100 years.” Steve smirked, putting his hands on his hips. “If you want to draw me it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Really?” She seemed to light up, stepping towards him. “You’d be my model?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “If you want to meet up later-”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I mean. Yeah sure I’m not busy or anything.” She tried to play it cool but the boyish smile on Steve told her that there was no coming back from it.

“Great." Steve nodded. Steve pulled out a small notepad from the pocket of his sweatpants, motioning to the pencil she had placed behind her ear. "Can I borrow that?" Before she could respond, his large hand was near her face, the heat radiation from him different than the summer heat. It was comfortable, a temperature that one wouldn't mind surrounding themselves in on a chilly night. Or a night full of sensual fun that would end with bite marks, scratches, and hickies. Even though Steve looked composed, inside he was just as excited as she was. As he wrote down his address his excitement grew. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah.” She smiled brightly, taking the small piece of paper and her pencil. A car pulled up behind Steve, the window rolling down.

“Hey!”

The pair looked at the car, Steve giving the man in the car a friendly smile. “It’s time for you nap Old Man.” Sam smiled.

Steve turned to face her, holding the pencil out to her. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Hold on to it.” She put her hands in her pockets. “That’s my favorite mechanical pencil so I’ll be taking it back later.” She smiled.

“I’m Steve by the way.” He walked backwards, the boyish smirk on his lips again.

At HQ Steve fixed up his room as Bucky leaned against the door frame with Sam behind him. “So this Dame you’ve been talking about is coming over to draw you?” Bucky questioned his friend but didn’t receive an answer.

“Ask him about the pencil.” Sam chuckled, nudging the other super soldier.

“Don’t ask.” Steve looked around his room, nodding before looking at his friends.

“What pencil?” Bucky looked from Sam to Steve, his curiosity peaked.

“The mechanical pencil that he’s been staring at since he got in my car.” Sam teased.

“Come on.” Steve put his hands on his hips, sighing as he shook his head. “She’s going to be here soon. I need everyone on their best behavior.”

“You plan on courting her?” Bucky questioned. “Taking her on dates?” Steve looked down, scratching his head as he started pacing back and forth. “You really like her. Steve you just started talking to her today.” Steve looked at his friends. “Alright.” He put his hands up, backing away from the door.

“I think it’s adorable that our Steve Rogers is going to get a girlfriend.” Natasha appeared next to Sam. “And he actually took a duster to his room.”

“I thought he was tired of living like an artifact.” Tony walked up. “Come on kids. Stop bullying your older brother. He’s hit puberty and he’s thinking about girls. Disperse.” Everyone walked away and Steve walked into his bathroom, getting himself ready for his “modeling” session.

She got out of her car, looking at the building in awe. “He’s rich.” She spoke softly to herself. She walked towards the door, clutching her bag as she rang the bell.

“You must be the artist.”

She jumped, looking at the small speaker. “Hi.” She leaned forward. “Is, uh, Steve here?” She questioned, leaned her head to the side.

“If by Steve you mean Captain Steve Rogers then yes.” He answered. “Come on in.” The door opened and she walked in after thanking him.

Moving through the building, she could tell that it was built to house multiple people. She stopped at a painting, leaning her head to the side as tried to figure out the chaotic energy coming from it. “So this is the artist.”

“Oh.” She looked at Tony, smiling. “You’re Tony Stark.” She held her hand out, smiling. “You’re one of the best Engineers I know.” She smiled. “I can’t believe I’m meeting the man that created a suit of armor that can fly and is also a weapon.”

“Glad to know that you have taste.” He turned and the pair walked down the hall. “Are you an Engineering major?” Tony questioned.

“No. I’m an Art major.” She squeezed the strap of her bag, waiting for the insults.

“So you can draw a perfect circle.” Tony questioned.

“I...” There was obvious confusion on her face.

“A lot of people don’t know how to draw the perfect circle.” He crossed his arms when they stopped in the kitchen.

“Tony I hope you’re not trying to scare off Steve’s guest.” Natasha walked towards the fridge, opening it and taking out a bottle of water.

“Not really trying to scare her off. Just wanting to get a feel for who Rogers won’t shut up about.” Tony crossed his arms as he looked at Natasha.

“I’m sorry?” She questioned in confusion.

“Don’t worry about it.” Natasha said quickly. “I’ll take you to Steve’s room.” Natasha led the way, heading down the hall and stopping at the door at the end of the hallway. “Just knock.”

Natasha walked away, leaving her to her own devices. She mentally kicked herself, telling herself to known on the door. She raised her fist, knocking lightly. She didn’t know if he heard her but she stood there, clutching her bag as she waited. When the door swung open she was met with Steve in a fitted tank top and some denim jeans. “You made it.” He smiled.

“Yeah.” She breathed. “Uh... yeah.”

“Come on in.” He moved to the side, looking down the hallway at his team as they sent him thumbs up and silently cheering him on. Steve moved in, closing the door behind him, a nervous smile on his face as he rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans. “So, how do you want me?”

“What?” She turned to face him, her paint tubes falling out of her hands and on the floor. She dropped to her knees, gathering them up. Steve helped her out, picking up the tubes and placing them on his bed. “I... uh... I didn’t know if you wanted me to paint you something or if you just wanted a sketch.”

“I don’t mind if it’s both.” He crossed his arms, moving to sit on the bed.

“Okay. Let’s get started then.” She smiled, moving to the other side of the room. She wanted to be as far from him as possible, watching as Steve found a comfortable position on his bed. She pulled his desk chair into position, sitting down and pulling out her sketchbook, getting started.

Biting her bottom lip, she got started, sketching him in a cartoonish way so that she had a reference to go back to if Steve ended up needing a break. Switching over to her other pencils she got started on a more realistic form of her sketch. “How long have you been doing art?” He broke the silence between the two.

“I’ve been drawing my entire life.” She smiled to herself. “My mom told me that since I was in diapers I was fascinated with crayons. Other than trying to eat them.” She laughed slightly at her own statement, shaking her head. Looking at Steve, she saw a bright smile on his face, seemingly in his own thoughts. She bit her lip, focusing on the piece of art in front of her.

After about an hour or so she stood up. “You can move now.” She looked at him as he stood up, stretching his limbs. Steve put his hands on his hips as he walked towards her seeing her visibly tensing. She stepped away from him, fidgeting with a pencil in her hands.

“This looks amazing so far.” Steve praised.

“I still have to work on the shading.” She smiled slightly.

Steve smiled, putting her book down and turning his attention to her. “Do you like when people look at your art?” He questioned.

She laughed nervously. “When they aren’t finished I think they’re terrible.”

Steve nodded, looking at her. “Do you want some tea? A coffee or...”

“No I’m okay.” She smiled, still a little tense.

Steve tried his best not to show that he was bothered by how tense she was. “I think your art great. No matter what process it’s in.”

She smiled, picking up her book and started flipping through. “Here’s the other one’s I’ve drawn.” She handed him the book so he could take a look. He looked at them, flipping through as he nodded. She stepped closer to him, pointing to a realistic sketch of an empty hospital bed. “I drew that when my grandmother passed.” She explained. Steve turned the page, looking at an image of him with his shirt up doing the action of wiping sweat from his forehead. She snatched the book from him, laughing nervously. “You didn’t see that.” Steve turned around, standing so close that he could smell her perfume.

She moved to step back but Steve grabbed her hands, stopping her. “You’ve been tense for a few minutes now.” He spoke softly.

“What makes you say that?” She questioned quickly. Steve let her go, moving over to the bed and watching her intently. She seemed at ease.

“You feel better when I’m sitting down?” He questioned her, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.

“I...” She sighed. “I have my reasons.” She moved over to her sketchbook, grabbing it and contemplating on starting up again but ultimately deciding against it.

“What’s the reason? Maybe I can help.” Steve smiled and she let out a sigh.

“Well...” She started pacing, trying to gather her thoughts. She looked at him as he sat patiently, waiting for her to say something. “Can I kiss you?”

“I’m sorry?” Steve’s expression was that of shock and confusion.

“I’m sorry. I overstepped.” She moved towards the chair, grabbing everything in her hands and plopping down. “We’ll continue.”

Steve sat with his elbows propped on his knees, staring at her intently as she drew. He could see her shuffling uncomfortably in the chair, his eyes on her thighs as they tensed and relaxed a few times. His eyes darkened.

She finished drawing him, standing and prepping her easel. She moved in silence, her hands on her hips when she finished. “Do you have a cup I can use?” She looked at Steve as he sat, eyes still on her. “Steve?” He stood up, walking into his bathroom and pulling out one of his disposable cups and filling with the water. He walked back out, placing it on the small table next to her. “Thanks.” Steve stood behind her, his large hand touching the small of her back when she started to paint. Her body jerked and she whipped around to look at him, backing up but hitting her easel.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked this time. She hiccupped, staring up at him as she nodded quickly.

Steve leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb resting just below her lip. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, kissing her. His other hand moved to the small of her back. Her body trembled slightly at the feather like touch on her heating skin. She couldn’t help but take his bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling and sucking.

An animal like growl escaped his throat and his hands moved to pick her up. Steve sat her on his desk, his hands holding her. He pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the side leaning on his hands as she stared at him. She pulled the hem of her dress up, biting her bottom lip when his large hands slowly moved up her thighs. She started unbuttoning the top her dress.

Steve kissed her neck, nipping and sucking to leave a mark on her. She moaned, closing her eyes when he moved to the other side of her neck. “Steve.” She mewled, arching into his touch. “I can’t wait.” Steve nodded, pushing his hands under her dress and grabbing her underwear. He tore the lace from her skin, tossing it to the side. She whimpered when his large hand squeezed each of her cheeks. He picked her up, moving towards the bed and sitting down. She bit his lip as she ground her hips against him.

He pushed her dress around her waist, moving so that she was on his thigh. “Go ahead.” He encouraged.

She looked at him, slowly circling her hips. Steve’s hands slowly moved down to her hips, guiding her so that her pace could quicken. She moaned, tensing slightly as her climax built. Steve’s fingertips dug into her flesh, guiding her so that she moved faster. She trembled, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Her embarrassment was getting to her. They hardly got into it and she finished. Pressing her forehead against his exposed chest she whimpered again. “I didn’t...” She sighed. “I masturbate and all that. But it’s been a long time since someone else...” She trailed off. “I’m talking too much.”

“No it’s fine.” Steve chuckled, pulling her so that she was pressed against him. “It’s been a long time for me too.” She unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down slightly and releasing his stiff member. She slowly pumped him, looking into his beautiful eyes. She pressed the head of his member against her wet folds, her eyes fluttering shut as she slid down. Her thoughts, so good, on repeat.

Steve wrapped his strong arms around her, biting his tongue at how tight she was. His animalistic urge to destroy her grew the longer it took for him to take in all of him. She bit his chest, moaning when he filled her completely.

Steve Rogers, the man that is Captain America, King of keeping a cool head... was slowly losing it.

He picked her up, taking her by surprise and walking her into his bathroom, slamming the door behind him. “Steve wha-”

“Trust me.” Was all he said, sitting her on the counter and adjusting her so that she was slumped back, her shoulder blades pressed against the cold mirror. Steve started pounding into her, surprising her. She yelped, her hands flying towards his waist as Steve grabbed her ankles.

Her eyes were shut tight, body on fire the more he hit her cervix. The dull pain she was feeling sent a new sensation of pleasure through her and hot tears down her cheeks. She clamped around him, biting the base of her thumb to keep herself from screaming. Steve switched his grip to her wrists, holding them in on hand away from her face as he leaned in to kiss her lips. “Too much.” She cried.

“Want me to stop Doll?” He questioned, deep down wanting her to scream No and beg him for more.

“God no!” She hollered, moving her hips to meet him as best as she could.

“Good girl.” He smirked, letting her wrists go and grabbing the back of her thighs. Steve stared down at her trembling body, slowing his pace to see how she would react. He enjoyed the way her eyes slowly opened to meet his as they already stared back at her. Her mouth falling open just to breath his name. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and Steve took the opportunity to kiss her, sucking on her bottom lip and pulling a small moan from her. Steve pulled out of her, licking his lips as he slowly pumped himself. “Turn around for me.” She slowly got off the counter, turning around and looking at him through the mirror. “I want you to see how beautiful you are.” He slowly moved towards her, leaving her in anticipation. “How pretty your face is when I’m inside of you.” His hands made quick work of guiding his member into her soaked hole. Her eyes closed and her mouth fell open. “Open your eyes and look.”

She did as commanded, eyes on her own face as Steve started to relentlessly pound into her. She shook violently, falling over the edge one more time. Steve didn’t stop, holding her in place as he continued. She felt her mind escaping her. His name spilled from her lips as if it were the only thing in her vocabulary.

Steve felt himself growing closer, his thrusts becoming off beat and frantic. He pushed himself deeper, growling when he spilled into her. She leans against the counter, huffing. Steve was the only thing keeping her up, otherwise she would have fallen.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her hair a mess and a slight shine in her eyes. Her skin was littered with bites and hickies. She looked at Steve as he caught his breath. “I didn’t expect this to happen first.” Steve chuckled.

“What you wanted to take me on a date?” She laughed.

“That was the plan.” He nodded slightly.

“Then Friday.” She stood up, looking at him. “After class you can take me to lunch.” He nodded, smiling.

“There’s this place I went to as a kid and it’s still up and running.” Steve explained, his eyes lighting up. “Since I got back I haven’t been there. Now I have a good reason to.”

She smiled, standing up but hiding the fact that every small move she made sent shockwaves through her. “Great. Should we finish the paintings?” She questioned, moving towards the door on shaking legs.

“I had something else in mind.” Steve put his hand on the door, closing it as he looked down at her. “I think the both of us could use a nice shower.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader #smut #main masterlist

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theawkwardterrier · 4 years ago

Text

Prototypes, Pekingese, and Other Things That Might Test Your Patience

Steggy Week 2k20, day 1 Prompt: Domestic Bliss

Summary: Sunday afternoon, Steve comes home from the movies and finds Peggy sitting on the sofa, having what seems to be a staring contest with the ugliest little dog he’s ever seen.

AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents for organizing!

Sunday afternoon, Steve comes home from the movies and finds Peggy sitting on the sofa, having what seems to be a staring contest with the ugliest little dog he’s ever seen.

To be clear, the dog is the kind of ugly that probably means that its ancestors came over on the Mayflower and it is the result of centuries of very carefully considered and high-standard breeding which would put Steve’s own pedigree to shame. That said, the animal has been left with a flat face, watery eyes, sharp little teeth, minuscule legs, a coat that probably weighs more than its actual body, and an apparent tendency to snuffle even when at rest.

None of this makes a good first impression.

“Hello,” Steve says carefully, closing the door. “I thought you were finishing up the Beckworth operation today.”

“We did.” Peggy breaks her stare with the dog on the floor in front of her, sounding sour. “The first part went absolutely swimmingly. He was entirely willing to reveal the location of the safe while showing off for Gladys.” She gestures to a curly blonde wig lying on the side table. “The distraction was timed perfectly, and I was able to crack back in while he was gone and remove the prototype before calling for backup. We arrested him without incident. It was all as smooth as you like, textbook even, until I gave the prototype into the care of Fletcher in evidence collection - you’ve met him, ginger, entirely too tall? - and the man immediately dropped it on the floor only to have it eaten by this thing.” She glares again at the dog. “And now it has to be watched while we wait for the prototype to...pass, so it can be used as evidence and then handed over to Howard and his merry band for examination.”

“Ah.” Steve lowers himself into a chair, keeping a careful eye on the dog. It seems the type to be easily unsettled by simple things in its surroundings. “And it needs to be watched here? By us?”

“Well, after what happened today, I’m certainly not going to give more responsibility to Fletcher or any of the so-called experts in evidence collection.” They’ve barely finished staffing the various departments over at SHIELD, but Steve now suspects based on her tone that they might be going back to the drawing board in some places. “Of course, I wouldn’t trust Howard to take care of it himself, and Jarvis and Ana have been told by the adoption agency to be on the alert in the next few weeks—”

“Hey, that’s great!”

“It is, but of course it means that they should have as much time as possible to prepare themselves, which does not at all fit with taking responsibility for this. And, of course, I’m trying to build a more official reputation for the organization. As reliable as Jarvis has proven himself to be, I’d like us to try to appear slightly less homegrown than we have in the past, at least for the moment.”

Steve looks around himself at the living room of their home, then down at the dog, which has started to pace and sniff around itself. “So it’s up to us.”

“Yes. But I can’t imagine it will take long for the prototype to reappear, and then they will both be off our hands.”

Peggy comes home on Monday evening and, flipping through the mail on her way down the hall, nearly forgets to even look for the dog until she reaches the kitchen where Steve is washing dishes.

“You didn’t call,” she says, “so I assume that the prototype is still…”

“As far as I can tell,” Steve says, looking a little worn. “And I’m pretty familiar with what did come out of him today.”

“How was—” she tries, just as a high, incessant yapping starts from the front room.

“Sorry, he’s been looking out into the yard all day, going nuts over squirrels, birds, the mailman, anything. It’s a good thing there weren’t any Girl Scouts going door to door today,” Steve apologizes before calling tiredly toward the next room, “Knock it off, Eliot.” To Peggy’s surprise, the sound turns to a whining, nasal growl, which is at least softer.

“You gave it a name?” she asks, kissing him quickly as she leans to put the mail on the counter.

“He didn’t come with one that I could figure out, and I had to call him something.”

“And why decide on Eliot?”

Steve finishes drying off his hands, then points into the trash can where there’s a pile of shredded paper mixed in with the usual garbage.

“I guess the books looked at him funny because he started clawing at them pretty early on. I managed to move most of them up to higher shelves before he got them too bad, but he really did a number on Middlemarch. Moby-Dick, too, but he didn’t exactly seem like a Herman any more than he looked like a George. And I guess I could have called him Pepper, because he knocked that over too, but he’s the wrong color.”

Eliot comes, nails clicking, into the kitchen to bark at their feet. Peggy stares down on him. She sighs.

“Well, your instincts about Melville were spot on, at least,” she tells the dog, and takes her husband upstairs to show her gratitude for his forbearance.

When Peggy calls Tuesday morning and tells Steve that she’s scheduled a veterinary appointment for Eliot that afternoon, he groans aloud down the phone line.

“He’s actually finally quiet,” Steve says, watching from out of the corner of his eye as Eliot yawns, peers out the window, and seems to start dozing again. “If I take him out somewhere new…”

“Yes, but that place might be able to offer some guidance about when we might get to see the prototype again, and therefore when we might never have to see the dog again.”

Eliot shies away from anything particularly cold or shiny at the vet’s office in a way that Steve remembers from his own earliest medical experiences. He keeps up a constant, quiet growl; Steve considers it polite if anything based on the lowered volume, and luckily none of the staff seem overly concerned or insulted. Then again, they aren’t actually that helpful either: the vet cheerfully informs Steve that these things usually pass by themselves within a few days, and as long as Eliot is still able to eat, drink, and play normally there’s no reason to be concerned.

“You can come back in if something changes, and of course, if you’re really concerned, I can refer you to a colleague about an hour away who can do an x-ray of the little fella,” the vet offers, and then quotes a price for it that makes Steve laugh reflexively at what must be a joke. (It isn’t.)

The only helpful piece of advice comes at the end of the visit.

“Fur like that,” the vet says, going over to the door, “I’d expect you must be showing him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, dog shows, contests, like that.”

“You mean we can get him trimmed if we don’t care about all that?” Steve asks, relieved. He’s wearing his only pair of brown trousers today; even though Eliot sleeps downstairs, somehow strands of his long fur have migrated onto the black and gray pants which fill most of Steve's wardrobe.

The vet looks surprised. “Sure, though it’d be a shame. He’s a pretty fine specimen, after all.” He tilts his head, turning thoughtful. “Say, if you don’t really want him for that, I have a friend who’d love to get his hands on a purebred like this. Pay you nicely for it, too, what do you say?”

Steve looks over at Eliot. Despite the standoff the dog is having with a row of bottles on the doctor’s counter, he looks up at Steve with something very human and pleading and familiar in his eyes.

“No, thanks,” Steve finds himself saying, picking Eliot up in one arm. “I think we’ll hang onto him for now.”

Steve is as surprised as Peggy when she comes home Wednesday to find the dog lying politely at the foot of the armchair while Steve sketches. Eliot’s paws are forward, his face relaxed on the carpet between them. Steve had apparently been successful in his mission for the day; the nimbus of tawny fur is gone, trimmed to a more manageable - and, she’ll admit, attractive - level. She can actually see the dog’s eyes clearly now, blinking slow consideration, and his tail puffs up sweetly rather than billowing wildly outward.

“Well, this is quite the change of pace,” Peggy says, keeping her voice pitched low on instinct. Eliot turns to look over at her, but returns to staring peaceably through the window where the tree in the front yard shifts slowly in the breeze.

“Yeah,” Steve says, glancing down with...is that fondness? “He isn’t so bad once you get used to him. Or once he gets used to you. Melinda, the girl at the dog barbershop, said that he probably just needed to figure out how to handle a new place and new people, and that his breed can be a little bossy and vocal.” He pauses. “Also, she said he might have just been hot and annoyed from all that fur.”

“Well, he's at least sensible,” Peggy says, sitting down too. She knows she should go and change, should at least unpack her case, but there’s something comforting about sitting there, just listening to the scratch of Steve’s pencil, the constant sound of Eliot’s breathing. Without her thinking much about it, without even asking if there’s been any update on the prototype, she decides to stay a while with the two of them.

“He’s still not exactly the cutest little thing,” Bucky comments when he comes for a walk with Steve and Eliot on Thursday afternoon. Eliot doesn’t pay him any attention, sniffing busily at the sidewalk in front of himself as he trots along (although Steve knows that he’ll run out of energy pretty soon and slow to a crawl).

“Looks aren’t the only thing that’s important,” Steve points out, moving over so Mr. Sabitini and his grandsons can pass by. “Character plays a big role in things, and Eliot’s got plenty of that; he might be mouthy, but he's pretty intelligent, and considerate too. Yesterday he saw a boy drop his ice cream on the ground and started to nose it back to him.”

Bucky snorts. "Probably trying to sneak a few licks in for himself."

"I don't think so." Steve’s voice is firm, his glare hard.

Bucky stares, then shoves a hand through his hair. “Oh God,” he says. “You’re starting to identify with the mutt. You should have just called him Steve Junior.”

“What? No, I’m—” Steve starts, then shoves him over the curb into the street. “Shut your trap, Barnes.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Bucky laughs, and he gets back onto the sidewalk only for Steve to shove him over again.

At dinner on Friday evening, Steve tells Peggy about how Eliot has started to just bark a polite little greeting to the squirrels on the lawn, as if welcoming them to the home to which he’s graciously allowed them access, and then asks how the Beckworth case is coming.

“The prosecutor is optimistic, which I consider an accomplishment for him - he’s usually quite doleful. Of course it would be better if we had the prototype in hand, but we have the schematics and the testimony from the assistant…”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as she trails off.

"Mr. Beckworth is seemingly quite...upset that we have taken custody of his dog. I read the report from his latest interrogation and it was all he spoke about.”

Steve swallows a bite of chicken. “He’s probably pretty worried about his life’s work being trapped inside him.”

Peggy shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I think he’s actually concerned about him. Unless he’s playing some sort of game, I believe he truly loves the creature.”

“Well, he’s actually pretty easy to love,” Steve says. “He just shouldn’t have to put up with criminals.” When he palms and drops a piece of his chicken on the floor for Eliot to sweep up, he tries to think of it as more of a consolation than a bribe. Peggy sees and shakes her head; apparently she’s missed the distinction

Peggy calls to say that she’ll be working late on Saturday, so Steve tells Eliot, “Guess it��s just you and me for dinner tonight, fella.” He thinks of what Bucky or Peggy would say if they heard that, groans, and then shrugs, because they didn’t hear it so who cares?

Eliot whines as Steve goes upstairs and shuts the bedroom door, but the house is definitely furrier than is preferable even after the haircut and the establishment of a daily brushing regimen, and there are some lines they haven’t crossed, at least not yet, so Steve goes to bed alone.

He wakes up alone too, several hours later, wondering for a blink what pulled him from sleep. Then he hears Eliot’s growl from down in the kitchen followed by a yip, as if someone’s kicked him.

For a moment, as he makes his quick, silent way down the stairs, he gropes for his shield, something he hasn’t done in years. But before he can really miss its presence, he hears Peggy say, “I’ll thank you to unhand my dog,” in a way that he can tell means she’s aiming her gun.

“I don’t know who you think you are, lady,” says a voice, “but this is Ned Beckworth’s dog.”

“It was,” Peggy says, perfectly calmly. “But Mr. Beckworth is awaiting trial, as you soon will be as well, and now it’s my dog. Just as this is my house you’re standing in, and my husband coming up behind you, so put Eliot down, if you please.”

Looking from the doorway into the dimness, Steve can only see the backs of the two men who have broken in, moderately sized and wearing black. One of them has Eliot under his arm, a hand over his muzzle even as he tries to wriggle away. When the stranger doesn’t move, Steve says, “She really will shoot you if you don’t let the dog go. She’ll get your leg no problem, even if you’re trying to use him as a shield,” and Eliot is reluctantly and a bit too forcefully released. He takes a minute to regain his footing, nails scrabbling on the linoleum after being dropped to the ground, but before Steve can say a word, the dog has vomited copiously onto his captor’s shoe before skidding over to Peggy and pressing himself against her leg. The prototype, its light still blinking a calm blue, lies in the middle of the puddle.

“Excellent aim, Eliot,” she says dryly, without taking her eye off the now loudly disgusted housebreakers. “But your timing leaves quite a bit to be desired. Steve?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Between the two of them, they pretty easily subdue their unwanted guests, and wrap up the prototype to deliver to headquarters in the morning. (Peggy says she’ll trust a retrieval team to take care of prisoner transport, but the prototype stays with her from this point forward. Steve, cleaning up the mess on the floor, says she is welcome to it.) Eliot obeys commands for “sit” and “quiet” for only a few seconds at a time before once again starting to dart distractingly around the room, barking. Still, once everyone else has left, he curls easily into Peggy’s lap and allows himself to be petted.

“He acquitted himself well,” she says as Eliot’s tail flips through the air, clearly pleased by her attention to his ears, “even if he isn’t exactly anyone’s picture of heroism.”

“Neither of us exactly was either,” says Steve, “so I think he’ll fit in fine.” He pauses. “Don’t tell Bucky I said that. He'll just start again about me over-identifying.”

She laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it, even if he might have something of the right of it.”

Eliot barks in what seems to be agreement, but Steve knows for a fact that, if the dog could talk, he’d sell Steve out in a minute if offered a half decent steak.

As Sunday dawns, the three of them are still sitting in the living room, asleep together.

#steggyweek20 #Steggy #Steggy fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #kinda wild to me tbh how the prompt that should have been 1000% in my wheelhouse left me scrounging for something but here you are!

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