#unnamed goth girl

[zorastix15]

My take on the Unnamed Goth Girl from the season 9 intro!

[dailydristophe]

DAY 197

[nkhluu]

Yo i'm back. I'm here with 3 new drawings. Here we have 3 people that i have never drawed before.

[candiiskool]

So I made the goth kids in gacha club 🌸💖🌸💖🌸

[thesmashwaffle]

Lowkey obsessed with this absolute turbo cutie I keep seeing in that one dumbass sandwich meme about goth girls, so I decided to draw her.

I really wish I could find the artist who did the original art though... Update: Found the source of the original art!

[domithekingoffools]

Been working on a design for Gidget's gf :)

[frogboyfriend-art]

Unnamed goth girl!!! :3c I have a whole story for her in my head heehee

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Trials and Tribulations of Summoning

You know how in most Summoning Danny pieces, it's either some unnamed cult or John Constantine doing the actual circle drawing and chanting and stuff? And while, yes, it makes sense, consider this: Constantine doesn't know shit about summoning ghosts/entities from Infinite Realms. He is more than knowledgeable in summoning demons and biblical horrors and gods and whatnot, but the Realms are an entirely different field of tricky fuckery, and require a completely different skillset and knowledge of different runes and stuff.

Think about it like being a dentist and then getting asked to perform neurosurgery. Like, yes, sure, you're a doctor, and both areas are generally head-related, but it's not your specialty, you don't know anything about it aside from the most general stuff.

So, when the JL needs to summon the Ghost King for whatever reason, and they ask John Constantine, he doesn't start drawing runes on the floor. Instead, he calls a friend.

An hour later, the whole Justice League is graced by the presence of a very young, very obviously goth girl with a sharp tongue, who makes it a point to express how not pleased she is to meet them.

Samantha Manson is rather unimpressed by both the hero assembly in front of her and the alleged world-ending threat she is shown. She doesn't call for Ghost King or anything like that, even, she just clicks her tongue, asks for a pinch of sea salt, a bouquet of any flowers they can find, a mirror, and a few other nonsensical items of choice.

The threat is eliminated within minutes with a bunch of weird magic that no one, not even the members of the JLD, understands.

"You don't need the King for this shit," Samantha Manson says, brushing her hands off, "It'd be like fighting a single cockroach with a nuclear explosion. Don't call me again."

They do call her again, of course. Several times over the years of fighting off all the things that come for Earth.

Until on one memorable occasion, she does summon the Ghost King, and the teen angst bullshit goes from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. Apparently, the King is of the same age as Samantha, and boy, do they have beef with each other.

At least the world does get saved in the process, so there's that.

[permetutotheworld]

300 followers event!! MUTUALS ONLY - 2+

💙 give me a prompt and ill make a five-ten song playlist for it (check my fandom list for this)

💗 give me your favourite greek myth/mythological figure and ill write a poem for it

💜 ill make you a moodboard for a prompt you give me (could be a moodboard for you or a character or a ship, again, check my fandom list)

GENERAL REUQESTS - MAX 2

💕 ill give you my personal headcanons for a character (check my fandom list)

❣️ ill assign you one of my favourite books with only a vage explanation

💝 ill give you a short one or two line poem based off of your vibes

intro post here

@ryapper @just-some-demigod @icrytomyownpoetry  @duaamortaja @enjolrasingaround

@bradleysass @blueberry0409 @the-hangry-otter @ahmedmohamedqwaider @actual-gremlin

@half-shadowgalra @moonjamthegay @wordbinge @faintpress @roseleveille

@lucy47cleaver @outromoony @cloverthesimp365 @reallychoppedphantom @little-wlw-froggie

@spacecowboy-01 @the-gods-strange-children @i-like-fairy-lights-too-much @xoxochb @saedjamelalhorokly

@sage-way @sillylittletexts @thefroggyarmy @boobersandstuff @castlereaghx

@red-dragon88 @daggerfuck @the-fandoms-onceler @aceofspades42 @allthinky

@harrydiaz123 @megamanzerov20 @hang-on-lil-tomato @badbreed1111 @unnamed-enby

@fauxfox1 @darkly-stagnating-fish-tank @blu3-l0v3r @0odios-mnzo0 @saifullahhhh

@sureasthestarshaveshined @constantlyconfusedcat @darkworldofmine @aletharaej @duke-is-the-shit

@magicandjuliet @beemoon17 @saxifraga17 @the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus @tedsy

@eye-in-the-skyy @rainystarssx @queerconer @et-sic-incipit @scarletbeast

@iloveyapping @deciduowl @eef--stars @stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling @lesbianpoetess

@lgbtq-refugees @midnight-madness-and-delusions @lilymistdesigns @thtrnut74 @a-t1r3d-b1s3xual

@princessamberrules @matty-os-blog @mumenquffa @familyaya3 @persephsmultimuse

@percabethcoded @emdabitchass @thelost-trio @said-it-from-my-coffin @elherself134

@maharab936 @unholy-stick-soup @circe-butbetter @bibeantransbean @reggystardust

@mywatselandcupcake @rachanadodo @hugosthirdcase @lemonboy1102 @sunshinerainbowsandlollipops

@saraalhashimi1 @abyssmita @mairon-goth-minion @shinchansbitch @charlie-kelly-variant

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@amirryer @calypso10191 @kingdionra @one-eternal-sigh @yesiamprocrastinating

@all-bart-and-bite @fungaljungal @classysandwhichwitch @sillycreatur @grassyhorizon45

@monica2anderson23433 @starryeyesandcoffeestains @choucon @demigod-jack-hearth @loulooser

@l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft @alittletoo-obsessed @eden66633 @t3ss4xstar @wisteria-daydreams

@watchtheprongss @alaskanskald @niceofthenine @giantskeletonfan2008 @mezsygfs

@moonandstarshangoutinbars @franknfurtersencephalitis @thatisntverycombefair @teamtrisha @imananqar

@yourfavouriteearthshaker @hazy-lilac-dream @charliecow @the-official-failure @dyingordeadinside

@fbkakebezijasenta @isthislasagna124 @riordanverseaddict @wretched-meadow @romanticismforyourinnerlife

@lesbian-thesbian @indigoviolet311 @ellemeditdance @drdarine @mahny

@librarymouses @rosegranger1315 @catcomediansblog @ivyfurrieart @sarahparcakalt

@miss-multi45 @thecrazyone0 @thunderst0rmy @furkurouonthese @reyna4ever

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@lesttiel @guiliosstuff @blueechidna6 @chaoschuckler

@im-on-crack-send-help @pineapple-jackson @doodlebugdpj @chrisalismandtea @lesbian-disaster-tm

@pbandjstudios @h-h-h--and-someone @saturnsconstellation @clodyghost @stars-and-leather

@ezkel @therewasnofloorbtw @dalia-mustafa @sk8erboy @sunshinetrebuchet @3ash-the-ghost3

@nicolili @wemlygust @lizgranger128 @writers-ecstasy-and-pride @mohammedmatat @family-aya

@definitionoffuckup @delinda24601 @baba-the-yagaa @pinklongsleeves @darkarcademaker

@existential-life-crisis @tragedy-and-delight-hand-in-hand @jaydahsworld @hermslore @telugu-girl-13

@starcrossedmoony @aroseinmisery1248 @thoughtsfromb4 @anything-for-my-moony-1971 @ravensandcrowsandowlsohmy

@miloinouterspace @equippedtolove @ryuusei-nui @professor-green-berries

@themortalityofundyingstars

@aria-di-angelo @lienspien @mycelestial001 @ineffablequeermoony @purple-phesh-and-cheps

@4ut1smmcr34tur3 @aesthetic-writer18 @justafanbutcurious @angelgendered @almostdecaffeinatedfun

@pyromaniacbibliophile

@surgicalpatient @taleofapart-timepoet @drunken-devotion @nyx-1566

@maya-j-e @looniesposts @cloud-makers-make-pollution @samaayyad15 @soprobrochacho

@uhhlifeig @immenselyirritated @cossie-fauchelevant @enjolrevoir @maglorslostsilmaril

@biggestqiblifan @kingof7thhell @fernandahd2023 @i-love-ulysses-butterflies @theobutshark

@the-eclipse-is-in-me @universegod8 @delusional-with-mel @thetorturedwritersclub @darwizzylover

@underratedalpaca @nyx-taylors-version @georgiaspeachy @cool-lesbian-is-here @4phr0d1t3s-child

@sassyphantomking @kimdourden @g1rasol @forever-in-the-stxs @rileywritesreblogs

@rainbowphades @monowritestoomuch @randominternetdog @remuslupinkinnie-1979 @alphabetically-deranged

@jess-quillkiller @pumpkin-gizzards @novassann @athena-of-ionia @the-thing-in-the-dark

@the-woild-is-y-erster @seewead-brian @imma-be-an-enderman @phoen1xr0se @my-castles-crumbling

@degrading-m0ss @g0blinm0de @thatonegirlineveryfandom @guesswhojusttt @princesspeachthefroggy

@estherstarlight @soupdeewoo @bisexual-bat @ivys-head-is-spinning @marsmarauders

@stars-on-my-bedroom-ceiling @breakthekeyandbehappy @katya-is-cool @kawaiibarty @starsandmarsbars

@ravenwordss @icarus-last-fall @daddysclownboy @mae-occasionally-reads @aboooods-blog

@fruity-pontmercy @yourlocalbadgerscales @bell-jarring @aca-ttaka @garden-of-runar

@mountainrusing @goobsie0 @mun-urufu @marylily-my-beloved @xenocollector

@dolokhoov @ieatglowsticks @uponthebarricade @ashstillalive @definitelynotawerewolf103

@fulladeroure @irritatedthyme @theoristswan5683 @thebookshoparoundthecorner @faith-and-fairy-dust

@inezrable @pycnanthemum @almost-emerald-eyes @rafaelthesilly @possessedanddepressed

@ciorran @aidens-ocean-galaxy

[sapphireicecream]

Drawing I did of the Unnamed Fontaine Goth Girl back around September ⛓️🗝️🥀

[dailydristophe]

DAY 24

[yanderefarm]

ik u don’t write for female characters but i wish unnamed female pornstar stayed alive she was cute

rip unnamed pornstar 😔

HONESTLY I AM LOW-KEY TEMPTED TO DO A ONE OFF WHERE SHE SURVIVES. she's so final girl coded like she should win.

i wouldn't ever write anything with her as romantic but i can imagine being besties with her. like ik she loves slasher movies and the color pink and she probably has the coolest goth girl clothes. in an alternate universe where he's not a yandere i can imagine her being super supportive of y/n having a crush on him and like she knows her boyfriend is much more interested in men she's only dating him for the content anyway.

i just think she's cute and cool. and you guys probably hung out together a little bit before her death.

[nkhluu]

[empressmcblondie]

I have such a vivid vision of GIRLFAILURE™ Jackie Taylor (some deluded AU, I guess???) going to Rutgers while Shauna ends up in Brown, and wow Jackie would be upset about this for like 15 mins but then she'd meet her non-verbal goth roommate and do her utmost best to bring a little sunshine to her life because in Jackie's head she needs it and she'll be told off time and again because girlie this isn't high-school, and boundaries are a thing. Eventually they'll become comfortable enough with one another for her roommate to pretend to listen to Jackie's frivolous rants (mostly about Shauna, an unnamed ex best friend, or kinda still a friend but she never emails or calls so idk what we are anymore). Jackie will eventually climb the social ladder, as Jackie does, and even though she's awkward and a little out of touch, she still manages to weasel her way into the in crowd. She realizes very quickly that in Wiskayok she was a big fish in a small pond, and here she's just a mediocre fish in a huge lake and everyone's so much prettier and have so much more going to them and honestly, being the soccer captain isn't that much of a big flex anymore... Maybe her mom was right??? But she still waves it around like a badge of honor because fuck people who think it's lame! There's something seriously endearing and magnetic about how she stands there in the middle of the party, her clickity clackity knees touching in her summer shorts as she elegantly holds onto a red solo cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other (she only socially smokes like three puffs you guys stop) and goes on and on about that one game where they got to nationals because it was their best game ever!!!!! The excitement!! The candor!! The memory of Shauna's hands weaving around her so tightly... Anyways, she'd experiment because everyone does (just a little weed nothing too crazy she hates it honestly and like a kiss or two between female friends... Okay so maybe it was more than a kiss but it's totally not a big deal and that doesn't make her gay, does it?) So, she'd come back on holidays and she and Shauna would meet because when they're face to face it's like nothing else matters literally so what if you didn't answer the 64 emails I sent you over the semester it's not biggie you were probably busy charming everyone with your short stories, do you ever write about me Shauna? Shauna's eyes widen so big when Jackie tells her she slept with a girl that they might fall out of her head and it's hilarious. So what? Everyone does it, Jackie would say, and Shauna would shake her head... She didn't. She didn't dare. There was something much more painful about the thought of Jackie with another girl than any other slight that may or may not have lingered between them but she fucked Jeff and kept it a secret she'll take to the grave so she literally can't say anything. Anyways, they'd dance this dance of unspoken yearning for intimacy and eventually they'll put the capital L and B in the LGBT because lord knows Jackie Taylor came out a lesbian out of the womb and Shauna Shipman swings both ways but for Jackie she'd swing the full home run. Yes, they end up together and it's as beautiful and unstable as you'd imagine it to be... But boy would it be worth it.

[noctilionoidea]

drop the favorite oc lore noct 🔫👁️👁️

haha what do you mean favourite I love all my children equally!!!!!

anyways Ash

My horrible gremlin girl I love you so much. This is going to be so fucking long but so many details and the big twists are excluded so uh. Yeah it’s fairly convoluted

So in this universe there’s a bunch of stories happening across history, and the idea is that there’s truth to literally all belief systems. Because I like studying ancient religion and shit and I also really love fairytales folklore and cryptids! It’s a huge part of my childhood so it’s the main root of literally all my ocs’ stories. Ash’s story mainly centers around demonology and abrahamic religions as well as Greek, Roman and a pinch of ancient levantine. Let’s just say for now the devil is kinda a good guy??? And the designs for the Greek gods are the same as my general ones, but I want to make it clear as day that they are very much just characters. I have a lot of issues with people blurring the line between character versions and the actual religious figures so I just want to state that. This is also the same universe that Toxaris and Ciara exist in!!! They are 700 to 600 BCE and 2023 CE respectively.

Ash is from a very complicated family history on both sides much of which is spoilers for this project I want to do shit for, but the story starts in 1997, she’s a edgy goth 17 year old in Springfield Massachusetts, she is very loved by her family and knows it but still has classic teenage angst and gets into fights constantly. Shes a loner and only really hangs out with her adopted/god-brother Will who’s literally just her whole world at this point and her stoner friend Matt.

She’s kinda just fucking around through her senior year so that then she can dedicate herself to her tattoo apprenticeship. Then comes Quincy, this sweet socially awkward kid from Appalachian Tennessee who’s come to live with his aunt after his parents died. Ash originally thinks he’s some cute butch, he is not but somehow she’s still kinda into him despite assuming she was gay as shit (she’s a girl with complicated sexuality for today living in the fucking nineties), and they get really close. As friends. So they have a solo hangout. As friends. So they decide to explore some old house from the colonial period that’s rumored to be haunted together. As friends. Quincy’s fairly superstitious but not enough to take it that seriously, Ash fundamentally disbelieves in anything supernatural but wants to do it for the goth cred and thinks it’s fun. She likes spooky things. She may be atheist as fuck and not believe in the existence of souls, but fun is fun!

yea turns out there be ghosts. So these ghosts are shitty fucking puritans, and for some reason they’re specifically targeting Quincy. Ash doesn’t understand why (she’s clearly the less godly one) so she has to try and get him out of there. Eventually she gets so worried for her friend (they’re just friends guys) that she ends up cussing them out and calling them out on their shit, and decides in a moment of adrenaline to set the place on fire. Somehow it ends up pacifying them???

so it turns out supernatural shut is real. Okay. She’s trying to play it off. But she notices a lot of things happening just out of view that’s always accompanied by ringing in her ears. It’s demons and they’re stalking her. Her mom is a professor of religious studies at an unnamed university so she borrows some of her (…) more relevant books. At this point her kinda-ex-but-also-the-feelings-are-still-there girlfriend who left a year ago to pursue a music career returns, but something’s very wrong with her. The demons are also starting to physically attack her and Quincy, yet somehow she is able to fight them back in almost the same way she fights other kids. They’re scared, they don’t know what to do, Ash is kinda caught between trying to save two people she loves romantically (because that this point she’s stating to feel that her feelings for Quincy aren’t exactly platonic) and also figure out why she’s wrapped up in this.

that’s the first arc, immediately afterwards Aphrodite gets involved, even when face to face and having conversations with several deities Ash will consider herself atheist, ash’s dad comes from the linage of Aeneas and that’s only mildly important, Quincy is a changeling, something something antichrist and rebellion in hell, uncle Satan??? Mommy issues happen, the consequences of pulling yourself away from the people you love as a means to protect them, Will goes through religious trauma, she makes more friends that become family because of shared trauma and finding community through the weirdest fucking ties. Will and Matt are totally fucking

Eventually Ash does play a part in Ciara’s story! Shes the cool aunt who shows up sometimes and is deeply protective, She and Morgan have friendly beef, she’s really confused about how Ciara deals with her supernatural bullshit like running errands and not having her world view massively deconstructed, she and Quincy are married and also have a kid they stole from the fairfolk in wales.

Anyways random stuff here- Ash’s dad Snaketongue ( his given name is Joseph) is an atheist (ex Pentecostal from West Virginia) and his philosophy is heavily influenced by his hatred of corporations and the devastation that was his first two and a half decades of life. Ash is very much like him and looks up to him. He lost his leg in a mining accident at 16, loves being a mechanic and is terrified ash will follow in his steps (…). He was involved with motorcycle gangs in his late teens and early twenties and got his tongue split as torture in a fight. He thinks this is cool as shit.

Will moved up to Springfield in his infancy with his mom, who despite loving his father didn’t want Will to grow up like him or be hurt by his lifestyle, and worked with Snaketongue, and they had a really close bond and ended up raising their kids together. Will’s mother ended up dying in a car accident when he was 7, and was legally adopted by Snaketongue and Ellie (not ash’s mom’s real name lmao). He already saw Snaketongue as his dad, but took awhile to consider Ellie a mom since he was still mourning his mom and didn’t want to replace her. This was when Ash became super protective of him. He’s a year younger than her. He is a good Christian boy (…) who genuinely wants to do everything to help others. Unfortunately he joined an evangelical church, which has the rest of the family on edge about how it effects him… it’s won’t end well. He’s very clearly in a relationship with Matt and trying to hide it, however the more deeply his feelings and the worse Matt’s situation gets he starts slipping.

“Ellie” is Ash’s mother, as previously mentions a professor of religious studies, and most of the other stuff is either a spoiler or needs to be worked out a bit more. Lmao

Ash’s full name is Ashley Sahar Bellone, she is 4’10 on a good day and salty as fuck about it, she is a cis intersex woman (complete androgen insensitivity syndrome) and has a lot of issues in her relationship with womanhood both as a result and because of how her behavior and attitude is perceived (she has no problem being seen as boyish androgynous or even full on a boy when crossdressing, but being treated like a failure of a woman hurts her a lot), she’s only ever been attracted to women and David Bowie as Jareth before Quincy. She loves apple pie and mourning doves. Her weapon of choice is a sica, gun, or punching and kicking people

so yea that’s Ash! And the start of her situation. So much is spoilers but I love her a lot

[swiss-mrs]

bestie… what does clubbing with goth and/or post-punk steve look like in your eyes? 👀 i would like to know

BESTIE

Not you opening the floodgates to us sending back and forth requests 🤭

Fun Lil #Swiss Fact: Back in Summer of 2021 my friends and I were trying to club/bar hop in a city/state we weren't familiar with and after 3 failed attempts (including crashing some rando's all-white party [I was in head to toe black]) we stumbled into a goth club and had the time of our lives.

I was in my little big titty goth girl era, so I just so happened to be in perfect dress code LMAO. This request has singlehandedly removed me from my pop girly mode and straight back into 80s/90s alt girl.

Haunted Haus

Steve Harrington x Goth Club Owner!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Good Music ✌️🤪, Steve-isms (some bad flirting, not so discreet looking, but also some not well hidden nerves), a lil angst👀, a single, '90s reference (just ignore), Reader being an absolute goddess.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing, No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "woman" and "madame", Bodily Descriptions kept minimal/gn

Synopsis: Steve may be in a chokehold by the abundance of hot goth girls in media rcently and decides to indulge in the dark and alternative scene irl.

××××💀❤️💀💀❤️💀💀❤️💀××××

Steve sat in the driver's seat of his BMW, gripping and twisting his hands around the wheel. The car sits stagnant in the grassy parking lot as minutes pass. "Come on, Harrington. You got this." Steve says for the millionth time, this time finally releasing a hand from the poor steering wheel to reach up for the review mirror, abruptly adjusting it to make eye contact with himself. "You got this." He uses his other hand to point at his reflection. Steve drops his hands to his lap as his gaze is taken from himself and to the paper sitting on the passenger's seat.

It was a flyer he'd stumbled across, or more accurately Robin stumbled across.

"I found the perfect thing for you." She burst through the door, taking Steve off-guard. He gave her a skeptical look, shifting his weight to one side, not really amused.

"And what is that, I ask regrettably."

"Ooo, that's a big word." Robin quips back a little too easily, causing Steve to roll his eyes, but Robin pays no mind as she averts her gaze to the paper in her hand.

"Haunted Haus, Goth Night." She flips the paper around to shove the front side in Steve's face. He jerks back, just out of reach. "Found this little baby." Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes adjust to try and read the text on the paper being held far too close to his face. "This may be your chance to find you a Hex Girl." Steve snatches the paper from her grip and gives her an unimpressed look, but Robin remains unfazed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the counter with a smug look.

Steve props himself on one hand as he leans his weight against the counter with one foot crossed in front of the other. He looks down at the paper in his hands, reading off the provided information and address. "Isn't that the old creepy church looking building?"

"Yeah, the one right outside of town." Robin confirms. "I did a little investigating, and turns out someone bought the cursed thing and turned it into an 'unconventional' night club." She replied, lifting a hand to place air quotes. Steve huffs in response. "As far as I've heard, it's pretty underground but also pretty popular."

"Oh yeah? And who have you heard that from?" He raises a brow, looking over invisible glasses over at Robin. She scoffs in offense.

"I have my sources." She rolls her eyes at Steve's continuous skeptical look. "Look, you obviously still aren't having much luck here, and now that you've officially developed an interesting niche," Steve scoffs again and rolls his eyes at her subtle jab. "I'm just trying to help."

"Where did you even find this?" Robin stands up straight and shrugs.

"Sources." She replies nonchalantly.

Steve lets out a huge sigh before ripping off his seatbelt and throwing the car door open.

As soon as Steve's white nikes hit the field and he stood to full height, it was like the cool night sucked all the warm air from his lungs. He stares up at the gothic structure ahead of him. Even from the back of the lot, you could hear the music flooding from the open doors. It was quite shocking to see the number of people attending, at least to Steve. There was no way there was this many people in Hawkins who were into this scene.

Steve stepped away from his car just enough to close and lock the doors behind him, beginning his tread to the club. The closer he got to the front door, the more he started to feel his heart thump against his chest. He's no stranger to parties by any means, but all his experience was exclusive to house parties and school dances. Since graduation, he honestly fell out of the party scene almost completely. He wasn't in college, and the thought of attending a high school party after graduation made him cringe. This was an exciting new venture for him.

Just as he clears the last row of cars, he gets a good view of the small crowd just outside the doors. People who, outside of their clothing and makeup choices, seemed like unlikely friends. People of all races, ethnicities, and statures all gathered together. It was odd to Steve to see such diversity, but it was refreshing.

He suddenly became a little self-conscious by his own outfit choice. Though he was in the standard all black getup, he was severely lacking the accessories, leather, and/or face paint, and it became extremely obvious as soon as he cleared the lot.

Resting on the doors of the entrance was a scary looking man and a brutish, equally scary looking woman. The man leaning against the left door was tall, a whole head above Steve. His arms were crossed, showcasing the muscle on muscle he was packing. His unamused, grey eyes pierced through Steve with one simple glance. There was no telling how he was able to keep going, but the striking gaze didn't stop Steve's body from moving forward.

Just as his foot met the cement of the sidewalk, the lady on the right side, nearly equal in height to Steve, took as step forward and held her hand up. Steve’s eyes met her green ones. Steve stopped in his tracks, waiting for the woman to speak first. Before she uttered a word, Steve could see her eyes track up and down his body with a keen gaze. "You here solo?" Her deep southern accent through Steve off.

"Yes." He dares to glance back and forth between her and the guy to the left. Once Steve's eyes land back on her, he lifts his chin in fake confidence. "I am." The woman's eyes squint slightly, seeing right through his confident facade. Steve's eyes flit back to the man to find steel eyes staring back with their ever-present empty glare.

"You won't be causing any trouble now, will ya, son?" She asks, bringing Steve's attention back to her. He raises a confused brow. Why is he being singled out? His eyes nervously bounce around.

"No? I'm just here for the..." He trails, gesturing to the lively club behind them. "Why? Do I look like trouble?" His confusion slightly over taken by his sassy tone. The woman steps aside and gestures toward the club.

"G'on." She says before stepping back to her 'post' by the door. Steve stands in place for a few more seconds, still a little thrown off by the interaction. The woman gives him a look as if to dare him to test her patience, and Steve takes that as a sign to get moving.

Steve cautiously walks through the doors, side-eyeing both bodies occupying the entrance, the man's eyes following him. Steve begins to question what he's gotten himself into.

Once he's officially inside, the lights and music are quick to overwhelm his senses. It's dark within the confines of the building, but the red strobe lights cast an intimate, sensual, almost sinister glow over everything. "Nice hair." A voice just barely over the music brings Steve out of his trance. He looks towards the voice to find a short woman behind a pedestal with a raised brow. Her hair was dyed black with short bangs and curled wisps of short layers just above her shoulders. Her skin was as pale as the moon, and her nails were chipped and painted red. "$3.00"

Steve stared at her as he fished in his pocket for the cash. Thankfully, he remembered to check the entry price on the flyer before leaving home. He plops the bills into her outstretched hand before receiving a short nod as an 'OK for entry'.

Steve walks further in, stopping at the top of the short set of stairs that lead down to the main floor. Being slightly above gave him a slight vantage point to get a quick scope of the club. Again, what did he get himself into?

Steve took each step one at a time, pausing on each one as he looked around. There was nothing but black clothing and flowing fabrics on the dance floor, limbs moving in every direction to the mixture of synth, bass, and fast drums. A few years ago, Steve would've viewed this crowd as a bunch of weird freaks in a derogatory sense, but now, Steve just sees the opitome of freedom.

Steve cringes at the thought of his younger self. If only he was as carefree and comfortable to just be himself from the beginning, instead of being so judgemental and close-minded, maybe he could look back fondly at his youth. Well, no time like the present. He buried those thoughts and moved forward, deciding to plant himself at the bar for starters.

Moving through the crowd, he had to dodge arms and legs. Most of those dancing were doing so with their eyes closed, truly doing so as if no one was watching. His head was on a swivel as he walked, not only to make sure he didn't accidentally get hit but also cause he had this itching feeling of being watched.

Steve looked over his shoulder towards the door, but neither the 'security team' nor the wispy haired girl were paying him any attention. He continued to look around the crowd. Maybe someone from town was there and spotted him, but no. He couldn't find eyes on him anywhere.

Shaking off the feeling, he gets to the half empty bar and leans one elbow on the bartop. He looks over to a girl just a seat down from him with gel spiked bangs and a messy, half updo similar to Elvira's. Just as she's handed her drink, she turns and makes quick eye contact with Steve. He tilts his chin up at her with a slight grin, but it must've not been as smooth as he had hoped cause all it did was get him a once over and eye roll in return as she walked away sipping through her straw.

Steve doesn't drop his grin until she's disappeared back into the crowd, and the bartender addresses him. He orders his usual before turning away from the bar and leaning back on his elbows, scoping out the club again. He sighs.

"Just don't pull that same cheesy crap you try on the girls that unfortunately find themselves here." Robin says.

"Hey, it's not-"

"'That bad.' Yes. Yes, it is, Steve. It IS that bad, and quite frankly, it's just as hard to watch." She deadpans. Steve scoffs, offended, shifting his weight as his eyes look around, trying to find a rebuttal.

Steve scoffs out a short laugh, shaking his head at himself. He doesn't know how or why, but ever since Nancy, it just seems like he's lost all 'game', and that loss is really not helping when it comes to moving on once and for all.

The bartender returns, setting the glass down next to Steve, causing him to turn and rest his forearms on the bartop. They exchange nods before the bartender goes back to work, and Steve takes his first sip. Soon, Steve finds himself getting lost in the liquid contained within the glass.

Was he ever really as 'smooth' as he thought? He never seemed to have such an issue with 'charm' before, but then again, he was never really himself back then. Not since her. He was always able to seamlessly put on this charismatic, flirty facade before. Everything he did was the same persona that won her over. When he let it falter, she left him, but now that he's trying that guy back on, it doesn't fit quite right anymore.

A part of him should be grateful that he's found a friend group that is willing to accept him for himself, all his good and bad, his true self, but when it comes to his love life, he can't help but wish he could be that guy again. He's been alone for so long now, and it's lonely.

He just wants someone again. In the beginning, that someone could've been anyone, but the more time he's spent alone, the more he's started to think he couldn't take that someone just being anyone. The idea of him 'peaking in high school' scared the ever loving shit out of Steve.

His fingers fiddle with his glass, spinning it round and round in his hand. He glances down at his fingers through the glass, metal reflecting through. Shit.

His heart suddenly feels heavy at the thought of his fallen friend. Steve retracts his hand slightly from the glass to stare down at the ring on his index finger, a thick silver skull. If only he could see him now. As if he could hear his laugh, Steve turns his head to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he saw that cheesy grin staring back at him, but he's instead met with a row of empty seats. Steve furrows his brows. If Eddie were here, he would've loved this.

Steve lets out a humorless huff of a chuckle through his nose. He wants to laugh at the thought, but it just feels heavy knowing he's not here to actually enjoy it.

Before Steve can get too deep in his head, he feels an odd sense to look behind him, so he does. He turns his head to glance over his shoulder, only to be caught in awe. Just opposite from him was the woman of his dreams walking down a flight of stairs, staring in his direction. Jesus, you were gorgeous. He couldn't tell if you were actually staring right through his soul or just so happened to look towards the bar.

Adorning your body was a long black dress with a slit up the side, stopping at the top of your thigh. Your legs were covered with sheer black stockings that had delicate, intricate lace patterns. The leather of your black corest reflected the red lighting, absolutely sinful. Though your dress was lowcut, your neck, shoulders, and arms were covered in a black lacy fabric that flowed out at your wrists. Your red bottom, black heels topping off your entire look.

You stalked down the staircase with a dark elegance that could move mountains. You are the definition of the kind of woman men would go to war for. You must be the queen of the underworld if there is one, and God, did Steve feel some type of way about it.

Unlike Steve, the sea of bodies seemed to unconsciously part ways for you as your eyes locked in on Steve. Steve was the only one in this very spot at the bar. There was no other logical reason for you to be looking that direction besides looking at him, but he still left as if he was not the object of your gaze, not even when you were standing right in front of him.

"Nice hair." Steve scoffed. If he had a nickel for every time he- Oh God, you're on the move again. You maneuver to step around him and claim your spot next to him at the bar. Steve watches you place your 'usual', getting a 'Yes, madame' in response. Steve can't help but raise a brow slightly at the formality, but his face drops when you turn back to face him. "You're obviously," your up and down gaze burns through Steve's skin. "New."

Steve suddenly feels as if he was standing naked in front of you. He'd been 'once-overed' at least four times since he's gotten here, but your eyes make him question if he actually remembered to put on his clothes. When there's a bit of a silence between you two, Steve clears his throat to try and regain his voice. "That obvious?" He holds a slight grin on his lips, but his eyes bounce around nervously, a dead give away of his true inner turmoil.

You raise an amused brow, "Well, to be fair, we don't get many well-tailored suit jackets and non-distressed jeans, but the all-black is at least a start." A glass is placed at your side as you finish your sentence. You give the bartender a quick smile and a thank you before he nods and moves on. Steve's hand self-consciously goes to tug at the lapel of his jacket. He tries to think of a witty, charming come back, but you continue before his mind can catch up. "So, are you here to find a girl to fulfill a fetish, or are you finally coming out of the suburbian closet?" You bring the glass up to your mouth. Steve tries to answer but is too focused on your red colored lips around your straw.

"I, uh," he clears his throat, looking away. He hopes you didn't, but you definitely caught him staring. "The second one." You let out a small giggle.

"Well, that's better than the former, I guess." It's a little bit of both, but Steve would be damned if he admitted that aloud. "Let me guess. Popular boy in high school, couldn't be caught being 'weird'?" You tilt your head in a way that Steve couldn't help but feel was both a bit condescending and also adorable.

"Right on the nose." He leans his forearms on the bartop again, grasping his glass in both hands to discreetly try and cool his sweaty palms. You lean on the bar right next to him. The scent of you overwhelms his nose, replacing the stench of alcohol, evermore heady and dizzying. The fight against gravity had never been so tough on his knees.

"Cute." You state simply, bringing your straw back to your lips and taking another sip. Steve looks over at you, a bit shocked. He was completely ousted from the crowd around him. He's the outsider here. The one trying and failing to fit in. He didn't think this whole 'loser boy' thing would be what got him brownie points, but to hell with it. If it works, it works.

"So," He leans up a little bit to adjust himself to face you, leaning more prominently on only one arm. "Are you a regular here?"

Your brows raise, "Repackaging 'come here often', I see?" There wasn't much room between that sentence and the next, but it was just enough for Steve's stomach to drop to his stomach, already feeling the rejection incoming, but it didn't come. "You could say that." You shrug nonchalantly. "It is a nice space and all." You add. "I haven't seen you in these parts." You shoot back a bit more dramatized, fully leaning into the cheesy line delivery.

Steve looks around, nodding and fixing his jaw as if he got caught red-handed for something. "Touché." A smug grin grows on your lips as you take another sip of your drink. He turns back to look at you, you already holding eye contact. He swallows down the saliva that builds on sight. "This is my first time here, first time at a party type event in a long while, actually." He admits.

"Well, I'm glad I could be here for your first time." You reply seamlessly, fully aware of the innuendo. Steve huffs out a chuckle. His face warms both at the thought of what you're insinuating but also at the slight embarrassment of it all. "Tell me. Are you here because you like the music or is it something else?" The way you adjust yourself has Steve screaming 'something else' in his head, his eyes following your every movement as you turn.

"The music." He replies shortly, still checking you out. He blinks away, trying to control his wandering eyes. He clears his throat, "A... friend of mine was really into heavy metal, and one rabithole after another landed me here." You hum out a response, nodding to confirm your understanding.

"Too heavy for you?" You quip back. Steve scoffs out another laugh, shaking his head and looking down at his glass, a few strands off hair falling into his face.

"I guess you could say that. It wasn't bad, just wasn't quite my vibe." He glances over at you, finding your eyes oh so easily once more. "This fit me better." A genuine, intrigued smile slowly grows on your face.

"So, is your friend here with you tonight?" You already could tell he came here solo, but you couldn't help but ask for confirmation. As soon as you did, though, something in his eyes changed, that little glimmer that was barely there to begin with was stomped out like a dying ember. Steve pauses a second before responding.

"No." You immediately regretted bringing up what must be a sore topic. "He, uh, he couldn't make it." Your smile long faded, but you couldn't stop your brows from quirking up slightly in curiosity.

"That's too bad." You say with a slight kind smile, trying to lighten things up. "Maybe come back next Friday, Metal night." Your smile widens hopefully with your suggestion. It brings a small one to Steve's lips but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Maybe." And you both leave it at that. A few beats go by before you try and change the subject.

"Well, since this is your first time and all," you start, leaning in on the two words with a small brow wiggle. "Would you like to dance?" Your question seems to throw Steve through a loop. You just asked him to dance?

"I, uh, yeah! Sure, of course." He stumbles a little, but overall excited, trying to play it cool. His little 'nonchalant, cool guy' facade fighting with his seemingly more natural 'playful and charming' attitude causes you to squint with a knowing smile. It's a bit comical how you can see right through him.

You finish the remainder of your drink by omitting the straw and drinking from the glass. Once the glass is placed back on the counter and stained red with lipstick, you grab his hand and start leading him away from the bar.

You don't get too far before your path is interrupted by the towering, grey eyed man from the front door. Steve's heart weighs down on his stomach at the sight of the man. He just looks like he could kill. "Pardon the intrusion, madame." His deep Australian accent cuts through. Steve furrows his brows in confusion once more at the reoccurring formality. "There is a matter that requires your attention. It won't take up much of your time." You look up at the man who looms over you even in your heels. You sigh.

"I will be right there." You reply. He takes a step back to give you space, but maintains a close enough distance to lead you away once you're ready. You turn to Steve with an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry. Would you mind giving me just a moment?" Steve is a bit stunned.

"Yeah, sure..." He trails, confused. You give him a smile.

"Save me that dance, will you?" He melts at your smile, thoughts clearing of any and everything just at the sight. He nods mindlessly. Your smile grows in return before you release his hand and turn to follow that security guard who came for you.

Steve watches you leave and can't stop himself from looking you up and down. Once you're out of sight, Steve makes his way back to the bar, returning his grip back to his sweating glass.

×××

Just as you said, you wouldn't take long, but the few minutes Steve had to wait felt like an eternity until you arrived back beside him. "I'm so sorry. You ready for that dance?" Steve stood up straight and turned to face you. Every time you appeared, it was like a God sent. You were ethereal in a way that Steve couldn't quite put into words.

"Y-yeah." But he made no move to get to the dance floor. You close the distance between you both until you're toe to toe. You cock your head to the side, silently questioning him. His heart feels like it'll beat out of his chest, the air wafting your scent straight back into his brain. "Why does everyone keep calling you 'madame'?" He manages to get out. He's not sure that was the question he meant to ask, but that's what came out. You sigh, pouting like you've been caught.

"Fine, I guess that cat's out of the bag." You shift your weight to jut out one hip. "I'm the owner of this place." Steve's brows shoot up. He wasn't expecting that. Maybe a manager or something, but the owner?

"You're the owner?" He repeats the question outside of his own mind. You let out a soft chuckle, grinning proudly.

"The one and only." After a few stunned seconds coming from Steve's end, you reach out for his hand again, stepping back and pulling him with you, leaving his now empty glass behind. You gently guide him away from the bar once more before turning to properly lead him to the dance floor.

Steve's mind floods with more follow-up questions and conversation starters, but there you go again, 'walking away' though with him in tow. His eyes find themselves glancing over your figure again. He wants to continue a conversation with you, to get to know you and all other secrets you're hiding, but as soon as you're away from the safe haven that is the bar, music overpowers all other noises on the dance floor.

You settle on a good spot for you and Steve, ample room for the both of you, but also a safe spot to be experimental, not really knowing if he has any dancing experience. The look you give him forcefully removes the air from his lungs. You start moving and flowing to the beat effortlessly, keeping your movements tame and fluid. Steve's eyes follow your hands as they run up your thighs, your hips, your waist, and eventually in the air.

At first, he's left there just watching you dance, but the show doesn't last too long before he feels your hands on his, pulling him close to follow your movements with his body. He slowly joins in with gentle swaying of his hips with yours, leaving his hands where you placed them, at the base of your waist. You allow your arms to move freely, the fabric of your sleeves flowing along with them. You throw your head back, allowing the music to take over.

The whining of your waist and gentle roll of your shoulders sparks electricity through Steve as he stares down at your body in all its glory. He can't stop the heat from rising within him.

Eventually, your eyes return to him and force his gaze to meet them. You give him a look before bringing your arms down gently to caress the sides of his neck and face. Steve couldn't pinpoint if it was the dancing, the alcohol, or you causing him to sweat so damn much.

You reach a hand up to run through the front of his hair, pushing his damp bangs out of the way. His eyes flutter to look down at your red lips, painfully watching the way they smirk. You tug on his hair, causing his head to get thrown back a bit. His eyes close, and his mouth falls open, and he has to fight the urge to moan at the feeling.

He continues to sway to the music with his eyes closed and head thrown back, just as you commanded, and as predicted, it had the exact effect you wanted. He gets lost in the music, lost in the moment.

Steve was instantly knocked into a state of bliss. He felt equally invincible and nonexistent. Nothing could hurt him. He was just here with you. Nothing else mattered. A weight was lifted off his shoulders that had been weighing down for so long he forgot it was even there. Now that it was gone, he felt weightless, like he would float away if you weren't there to ground him, if his grip on your hips loosened, if your hands on his neck left him. He was in pure euphoria.

Steve couldn't tell you how long you two stayed that way or how many songs passed, but suddenly, the tempo slowed, and the music quieted slightly. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, tilting his head down to no longer be thrown back. As soon as his head was facing forward, those pesky strands of hair flopped down again. Steve's eyes remained closed, so when you reached to run your hands through his hair again, the feeling of your fingers against his scalp felt like they were massaging directly against his brain. He felt lightheaded at the touch.

"What's your name?" Even through the ringing of his ears from the unknown stretch of loud music, your voice still flooded in as if you were speaking directly into his mind.

"Steve." He replies softly, not ready to leave his nirvana. You smile softly.

"Steve." You repeat. He was fine until you said his name. Now, he wasn't too sure how long before his legs gave out from beneath him. "Regrettably, the night is coming to an end." At this Steve's eyes open, though remaining half lid.

His eyes bore into yours, causing your soft smile to widen. You tilt your head as if trying to get a better look at his eyes beneath his eyelids. His eyes open up a bit wider at your small action. He looks away from you to let his eyes wander the room.

The dance floor has half the amount of people on it. The bartender is wiping down the bar top and glasses, and the two security guards are talking with the wispy haired girl towards the front doors. You move your hand higher on his cheek to grab his attention.

His eyes take in your face like it's the first and last thing he'd ever see. It causes your heart to warm. "Will I see you again, Steve?" Your voice melts through him. His lips part as he nods gently. His hazel eyes dance around your features with a small smile.

"I've never looked forward to anything more." Your soft laugh causes him to furrow his brows a little as he watches you.

"That was a good line." You approve. Steve scoffs, joining in with your soft laughs. He shakes his head, eyes bouncing around at nothing in particular before looking back to your eyes.

"It wasn't 'a line'." His eyes widen playfully as his grin widens, showing his teeth. "I mean it." His gaze goes from your eyes down to your lips. His head shakes again, hair bouncing as his small antic repeats itself. "You're quite honestly the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I would really like to get to know you." You give him a genuine smile.

"You are quite the charmer, aren't you?" By now, it's only you and Steve left on the dance floor, the last stranglers leaving out the door, the music just loud enough to hear.

"Is it too much to ask for your number?" He raises his brows with a hopeful expression. You give him a big smile and drop your hands to grab his, leading him back over to the bar. You reach over the bartop to grab a napkin and a pen, writing down your phone number before slipping it into his breast pocket with a smile. Steve smirks, eyes dancing back and forth from your eyes to lips and back up.

A sharp whistle cuts through the venue, grabbing both yours and Steve's attention. The brutish, green eyed security guard waves her hand in a circle, signaling to 'wrap it up'. Steve turns back to you just in time to see your eyes roll in response. He bites back a smile, lifting an arm and offering his elbow. You loop your hand around his arm and begin walking with him to the door.

Just as you reach the entrance/exit, the three employees leave from their posts, heading to the bar to give you both some space. "You better give me a call, cool guy." You raise a brow, releasing his arm to turn and face him properly with your chin held high. He gives you one of the most charming smiles you've ever seen, resting his hands on his hips. His brows quirk up again.

"You better answer, gorgeous." You fight your flustered expression with much difficulty, ultimately failing. You roll your eyes to try and cover up your inability to hold eye contact with him right now. You shake your head, turning slightly back to the inside of the club. You look at him through the corner of your eyes. He raises another teasing brow, awaiting a response. A beat passes before you close the gap between you, lifting your hand to capture his face, dragging his face to yours and planting a kiss on his lips.

Steve's eyes nearly pop out of his head the second he feels your lips on his. His eyes just begin to blink closed as you slowly pull away from the short-lived kiss. Steve chases after you, not wanting the contact to end. He couldn't remember the last time he had been kissed. He didn't realize how touch starved he truly was until you graced him with your touch.

"Goodnight, pretty boy." Steve’s eyes open back up to find you've made your way back inside, hands holding open the doors as you bid him farewell. Steve’s mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out, his eyes blown wide. All he can do is lift a hand to wave in response as you slowly close the doors.

"She sounds hot. Did you call her?" Robin asks, leaning over the counter with wide eyes. Steve scoffs with a sassy hand on his hip.

"Robin, I didn't get home until like 4am. I could just call her."

"Okay, well, that was Saturday. Today's Monday, and you still haven't called, dingus?!" She looks at him as if he's the biggest idiot in the world. He sputters a he tries to redeem himself.

"I'll call her today." Robin rolls her eyes, smacking her hand down on the stack of movies next to her before dragging them off the counter and into her hands.

"Whatever." She walks around the counter to get back to work. "It's the end of your shift. Clock out and give Morticia a call before I do." Steve's eyes follow her as she walks away until she rounds an isle and is no longer in view.

The entire drive home, Steve was racking through his brain thinking of different scenarios. "How was the rest of your weekend?... What's your favorite band?... How's owning a club like?" He talks to himself, practicing questions and answers. A part of him just wants to skip passed all the introductory questions and just get to the nitty gritty.

He craves to get to know you on a deeper level, on every level. He wants to share with you all his goals, all his fears. He wants to just spend more time with you. He yearns for your touch on his skin again, your hands on his neck, on his face, fingers in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, lips on his. He can't help but laugh at himself. He feels crazy. You've only met each other two days ago, and he's already aching for you.

He parks in the empty driveway, sighing. He's always been used to arriving to an empty home, but since graduation and his parent leaving him the house for his own, it has been even more lonely than before. He locks up the car and makes his way into the empty house. He hangs his keys on the hook by the door and makes a b-line to the phone.

Steve pulls out his wallet, taking out the folded up napkin he's been carrying around with him since Saturday. His heart races in his chest as he listens to the dialing, resting the phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he twirls the chord around his fingers. Just as he's about to give up and hang up with the phone, there's a distinct click of someone answering.

"Hello?"

×××

Hope you liked it, bestie☺️☺️😩 Not me making Steve a little hot and heavy in the club🥵

if it wasn't obvious, I'd do anything to run my hands through his hair 😩

💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀