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leeehye · 1 year ago

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Sweet Truth - pt.3

“Have I ever told you that…you are so pretty?”

Summary🌹- Feelings within Y/n start to change but is it what she thinks they are? Things take an unexpected turn when Seungcheol plans something even though the employees may hate it…it doesn’t turn bad for Y/n and Seungcheol.

Warnings- none 💀(yet). just kissing, bit suggestive / let me know if you find anything

a/n- Hi!! Guys omg school started and I’m so busy already! well here it is! I will try to upload A dare after all! or Angel let me know which one! Enjoy ❤️

“Your type?!” Jia, my best friend yelled in shock as it echoed around the coffee shop. I slightly looked down, noticing people looking towards us.

“Yeah thanks for keeping it a secret” I whispered, rolling my eyes while taking a sip of my coffee. It had been a week after that lunch with Seungcheol and I was telling Jia about it. I had told her that I was starting to see Seungcheol in a different way. Which she was shocked of course because she knew what I had against him.

“But Y/n sweetie…what about your “hate” for him? I thought you couldn’t stand him?” Jia asked, tilting her head curiously.

“I know. I know it’s sudden but…I feel like he's changing…he has not been that cold man from when I started working in the company…and well if I’m being honest…I felt nice when Jeonghan told me that he defended me with that old guy…” I said feeling my cheeks heat up.

Not only was it the first time I saw Seungcheol more than only my boss, but the first time that I said good things about him as well. Jia was smiling at me hearing my ranting about my boss that I once hated. I was having this strange feeling within me.

“Girl! You’re falling in love!” she said giggling, making me widen my eyes. What? In love with my boss? I never thought I would ever say it but, I guess it was true?

“No, of course not Jia!” I whispered yelled finishing my coffee looking down as my thoughts came to Mr. Choi Seungcheol, I shook my head slightly kicking myself out of my thoughts.

NEXT DAY

Making my way into the company, I was received with a huge banner hung from across the railing. Looking up I frowned as it read Calling Mr. Choi’s Staff! Fun camping trip for team! WTF—

I was frozen and made my way to the elevator and walked to Jeonghan.

“What’s going on with that announcement at the entrance? I was never informed” I said anxiously. Jeonghan hummed as he finished arranging some papers and looked at me.

“Apparently the boss wants to take you and I and the whole team for a camping “fun” experience he says, I doubt all members will go” he said, shrugging “ I don’t know where he got that idea though” he said resting his hand on his hip looking at me.

“He…he comes up with the most random ideas huh?” I mumbled and released a sigh. Giving Jeonghan a sweet smile I made my way out, I had to talk with Seungcheol. I was speed walking at this point. I knocked on his door and came in.

“Mr. Choi…” I started but he cut me off. “Are you coming? I just planned it last night I think it would be a good “reward” for my employees” he said quickly and he was smiling at me and stood up. He came closer to me and showed me the camping site on his tablet. It was a nice place actually, it had beautiful views, nature and a pretty lake.

“Oh…yes that’s pretty nice… actually it’s beautiful Mr. Choi” I said smiling “So are you coming?” he asked me and took a few seconds to think about it. A part of me wanted to go, I mean who didn’t want to go camping for free, or for their handsome boss– fuck.

“Um…yeah sure I’ll go” I whispered “Great!” he said and he seemed to be happy about his idea so I really couldn’t say no, and a little escape wasn’t so bad.

Letting out a relieved sigh I got out of the van and stretched followed by Jia and Seungkwan complaining about the transportation. I couldn’t help but laugh at the two them. I shook my head grabbing my bag and travel bag looking around, taking in the wonderful view while looking around I caught the other van stopping behind us. Then I see Mr. Choi’s large figure getting out and it was like he felt my eyes on him, since he turned his head and we made eye contact.

We looked at each other for a few seconds before I felt Jia elbow me. “Ow…” I whispered frowning at her. “I think you two are having a moment” she said teasingly and I gently pushed her.

“Shut up no we aren’t…and be quiet I don’t want to start rumors…” I said walking away a few feet away from Seungcheol, coming to a stop when he placed his bag down in an empty area with a view to the lake.

“Well as you can see this is the site, and we’ll set up over tents here to face the lake…and we’ll start setting up for a fire too…” Seungcheol explained, I didn’t say anything and just nodded.

“Sir, why don’t we work in teams? Four of us can stay and work on the tents and get the things set up and the other two can go get some wood” Jeonghan suggested elbowing me from the back, as Seungcheol nodded being attentive to his opinion.

“Yeah sure…good idea Jeonghan…um…Y/n do you want to come get wood with me?” Seungcheol asked and hearing my name I quickly looked at him,

“Oh um…sure…” I nodded, “okay, it’ll be a bit of walking so come on…” Seungcheol said and I caught up to him as we started walking uphill to where the trees were.

“I’ll put up our tent Y/n!” Jia yelled at me, making me giggle.

Walking around for a few minutes I picked up a big piece of wood and looked for something more still quiet. Seungcheol already had a few pieces of wood and he wasn’t making it easy. He looked so handsome. What??

“Do you think this is enough?” he asked me and I looked at what we both had.

“I think we need more,” I said softly, picking up more wood. I was scared that I might be giving off an “odd” vibe. Why was I behaving like this? Was it because of him? Was Jia right about me catching feelings for him?

“Are you okay Miss Y/n?” he whispered, bringing me back to reality making me look up at him. His soft brown locks looked so puffy, I just wanted to touch his hair, his big dark eyes were scanning my face while my mouth slightly opened and closed trying to find the words.

“Yes…yeah I’m fine” I said quickly before gathering more wood. He showed gave my a closed smile and slowly grabbed me by my wrist pulling me back.

“Like you say y/n, tell me the truth…a “true” truth�� he whispered softly and my body got hot. What was he saying? Was it obvious?

“Um I’m really fine Seungcheol…let’s head back before it gets dark” I whispered walking ahead.

“Ooh Y/n you’re back!” Jia said, wiggling her eyebrows at me glancing at Seungcheol. I widened my eyes making a face at her before mouthing shut up to her. Seungcheol sat up the wood and the rest to the side before taking the wood from me as his large hand slowly brushed on mine, making our eyes meet each other

“Sorry” he whispered to me as he took the wood from me. My cheeks were probably tinted red when he slightly chuckled.

“It’s okay Sir—Seungcheol” I corrected myself, smiling at him. We made our way to the chairs that the other guys had set up already. I walked over to a chair looking for Jia, who I then caught already flirting with Executive Jun, traitor, I frowned and crossed my arms sitting there.

I sat there with Jia and Jun, but after a bit I felt more like a third wheel than her friend, so I just stood up and went over to my shared tent with Jia and took out comfy and warm clothing, coming out like this it had gotten a bit dark as the sun was starting to set.

Walking over to the camp fire I caught Mr. Choi sitting there, he was now alone, he was the one to plan this and no one seemed to be spending time with him. Approaching him slowly, clearing my throat gently to not startle him he quickly turned his head.

“Hi, can I join you?” I asked softly making my way to the chair next to him. He quickly shook his head and fixed his posture.

“Oh please, here do you want some hot chocolate?” he offered while I sat down nodding my head. “Yes, thank you” I said softly watching him pour the hot chocolate in another mug giving it to me, I smiled and carefully tried it, it was perfect.

“Wow, it’s really good” I said happily keeping the mug on my hands to keep them warm.

“Really? You like it?” he asked and I looked at him nodding “yeah, probably the best hot chocolate I’ve had” I said and he chuckled.

“Well thank you…I made it” he said and I widened my eyes. “Really? Mr. Choi makes hot chocolate? Hm now I’ve seen it all…wait no hold on…Mr. Choi planning a camping trip with his employees…now that one was surprising!” I said laughing drinking more hot chocolate.

He smiled and looked at the fire before looking at me. “Oh come on…I bet you didn’t think I was a grumpy workaholic…don’t answer that” he added quickly making me laugh. As much as I couldn’t believe it, talking under a sunset and the soothing river sounds, with a fire and hot chocolate, with my boss wasn’t as bad. He wasn’t as bad anymore, I was getting more comfortable with him and started to tell him more things about me. Somehow getting to know him was making me forget what had happened 3 years ago.

When it was his turn to talk I couldn’t help but admire the features I had never noticed on him. His big black eyes sparkled and his dark locks gently fell on his eyes, my eyes slowly caught his plump lips as he talked until he stopped talking and I quickly looked at him clearing my throat blushing at my own thoughts.

His eyes were now on me and the closeness of the chairs weren’t doing any favors, we were close. He slowly moved his large body to leaning on the side of the chair gently and my body didn’t respond my mouth slightly opened and closed trying to find what to say next but nothing came out. I didn’t know why I was feeling like this. Was Jia right about what I was feeling?

“Y/n…” he whispered my name gently, making goosebumps spread through my body, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

“Um…y-yes sir?” I responded slowly tightening my grip around the mug, my eyes scanning his face noticing his eyes on my lips, he slowly came closer.

“Have I ever told you that…you are so pretty?” he whispered to me and a knot formed in my throat he better not expect an answer. What did he just said?

“S-sir–”

“It’s Seungcheol…and you don’t have to answer I know I had never told you, I had always kept it to myself” he whispered moving his large hand up to my face pushing a strand of my hair behind my ear and his breath gently hits my lips.

His eyes glanced at mine as if he were asking for permission when he saw no hesitation from me, he proceeded to lean it closer and my eyes start to fall close his hand slowly moved to my neck, his touch was so warm and my body got hotter when his lips crashed onto mine. I was in shock yet I still kissed him back. Our lips moving in sync, tasting each other was something I had never imagined. His movements were gentle yet with a bit of force showing how he had waited for this for so long.

I couldn’t deny Mr. Choi was doing something to me… And I did not hate it.

We kissed for a few seconds my hand gently resting on his arm, until we heard Jeonghan yell from behind us, making us jump and pull away. I quickly stood up almost tripping with the blanket and sat the cup down. My legs were shaking, had Jeonghan seen us? Luckily, no he had burnt himself with the pot. Great timing Jeonghan

“Oh um…Jeonghan what are you doing!?” I exclaimed going over to him trying to push away what had happened with Seungcheol a few minutes ago.

“I made ramen and I thought the pot wouldn’t burn…here let me set it over there…move, move” he mumbled making me giggle going over to the fire setting it down on the table.

“What were you guys doing? Everyone seems to be doing their own thing” Jeonghan said, looking at both of us.

“We…we were talking about work…” I said quickly sitting back down on the same chair to not make it obvious as Jeonghan took another chair in front of us as he started eating.

“Sure…You two are so similar! Work while camping?!” Jeonghan said, shaking his head. As Seungcheol was silent looking at me.

“What if we take that canoe tomorrow the three of us, it’ll be fun and you two can get your mind off work.” Jeonghan suggested and Seungcheol just nodded, giving him a smile.

“Sure, that sounds fun” I said to him, trying really hard to not think back to the kiss with Seungcheol. We stayed there for a few more hours. My insomnia was awake so I wasn’t tired at all. When Jeonghan finished talking about his silly adventures he smiled at us and said goodnight, he gave me a hug and went to his tent. Leaving Seungcheol and me alone.

“We…we should go to sleep…I’ll see you tomorrow…for the um…Canoe ride” I said softly standing up. He quickly nodded.

“Oh yeah, yes we’ll…goodnight Miss Y/n” he mumbled as I bowed my head before we made eye contact and I quickly left for my tent. Approaching the tent there was giggling coming from inside, I frowned and saw my bag outside, picking it up I shook the dirt off it and peeked at the small opening. Ugh. Jia was with Jun! Fuck!

I stomp my foot cursing at Jia under my breath. Making my way back, I decided to go see if Jeonghan had a free space before making my way. I bumped into Seungcheol.

Making me gasp he turned on his phone flash light.

“I thought you had gone to sleep” he said chucking before seeing me carrying my stuff.

“um I was…Jia…well I think she’s busy tonight and I don’t plan on sleeping in there anymore…” I said shaking my head making a face.

“I was going to check on Jeonghan and see if—” I started but he cut me off.

“Oh no he’s passed out…um…You can sleep in here tonight…I’ll sleep in one of the vans” Seungcheol said unzipping his tent letting me see the interior it was so organized, So Seungcheol.

“Oh no sir! I’ll sleep in the van then” I quickly said but he took my sleeping bag from me and opened it next to his extended one.

“It’ll be really cold at night…please I insist” Seungcheol said giving me puppy eyes. I hesitated, but I quickly gave up but something got into me, I don’t know what got into me.

Taking hold of his wrist, touching his many bracelets I looked at him.

“Um…share the tent with me…it’s just tonight and we can’t risk you getting sick” I whispered and his eyes widened.

“Are you sure? I—” “I’m sure” I said quickly before he could even finish and I went into the tent into my sleeping bag getting comfortable, he got in zipping up the tent and lighting up pretty fairy lights. He pulled more blankets and a pillow, laying down in his sleeping bag he extended the blankets on us and slowly pulled my head up placing the pillow down.

“Seungcheol—” I started in shock of how I basically invaded his space yet he was giving me full attention.

He laid down and turned to me, admiring me for a few seconds.

“About earlier…I’m really sorry…I shouldn’t have” I started remembering earlier again. I was looking at the fairy lights but I swiftly turned my head feeling his warm breath on my face.

He was holding himself up with his elbow and his face was close to mine. The butterflies in my stomach were going crazy and my heartbeat was beating at a thousand miles per hour.

“Are you saying you didn’t like it?” he said, making my whole body freeze, his eyes glancing down at my lips on swift motions before returning to my eyes.

I opened my mouth but I couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t tell him that I had liked it, who does that? not me. I didn’t want to make this more awkward than it already is. I looked away and snuggled in my blankets, if Jia was right about me catching feelings for my boss, then so be it I guess.

“do you want a sweet truth?” I asked him quietly.

Taglist: @lol6sposts @rodygr @violetvoo

Ask to be in Taglist it’s so short 😭

#scoups #seventeen #jeonghan #svt x reader #svt scenarios #seventeen scoups #svt smut #svt fluff #jun svt #scoups x y/n #svt scoups #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol #svt imagines #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol #svt #seventeen jun #seventeen series

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unoriginal-and-dumb · 6 months ago

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hey what do u actually use to draw on. as in app and,, device

For my digital pieces I use paint tool sai, I draw on my computer with a tablet (yes I know but I really hate drawing on my ipad unless I have to, being able to sit at a desk and look up doesn’t hurt as much soooooo)

For my animated pieces I draw on my ipad, using procreate, I don’t have dreams so im jsut using the og animation function which is. Rough to say the least (I can’t even upload audio to it I just have a guess and hope the lip syncing works 😢)

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venusmage · 2 months ago

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FAQ Post!

I've gotten a good amount of repeat questions the past few years and thought I'd make an FAQ. No need to RB or anything, this is going to go in my pinned post!

I still always happily will take questions, this is just for folks who might want to just find the answer without going through the extra effort. These are mostly about art and TTRPGs :)

ART STUFF

What brushes/programs/hardware do you use?

Almost all of my regularly used brushes come from either Retro Supply or True Grit Texture Supply! I'm not sponsored or affiliated, just really like the quality of their products. They have sales fairly frequently and I've never had any complaints. I also use quite a few products by Ittai Manero.

Right now I primarily work in Procreate on an iPad Pro. Procreate is my favorite art program and I'm quietly hoping they eventually make a desktop version.

I very recently also got an XPPen Deco 01 V2. Partially because there's some art programs on desktop I want to learn (Aseprite, Blender) or programs that have superior desktop versions as compared to mobile (ClipStudio). I'm also teaching some grade-schoolers digital art and wanted to have the same kind of tablet as them (I haven't used a screenless tablet for over half a decade). As of right now I'm very happy with it! For the price it's an easy recommendation.

I mainly use ClipStudio in this instance, and the brushes linked above both also support the program (aside from Manero). However there's a huge user-base that upload free assets constantly that makes ClipStudio so great. I especially like painting in it for some reason!

What's your opinion on AI art?

I don't like it, obviously, but I get how people who lack the context and education on why it's bad wouldn't get it. I also think that some other artists fearmonger a little too hard regarding it and it has the unintended effect of making the situation and it's nuances even harder to understand. I talked about it here.

Did you go to art school? Would you recommend it?

I did, I have a BFA in illustration and graduated from CCAD in 2018. Every art school is unique and my experience with art school and the benefit it gave me is VERY different from how I believe it may be for others. As of right now I think there's a lot of good cheaper online resources than private art education in general. I did have a wonderful time there though, and it's availability helped me eventually escape a domestic abuse situation - so my feelings are a bit complicated.

Do you have a dream art job?

I'd love to be a college-level art teacher. Funny I know, considering I just said art school isn't always worth it. I just deeply enjoy the craft and discussion surrounding art in general. I'm tempted to make art videos one day to scratch that itch.

What's your favorite/least favorite part of the drawing process?

I hate sitting down and getting the sketch started (hello ADHD...) And flatting. Linework/sketch cleanup and finishing details for color are where it's at for me.

What made you interested in art?

My grandfather was a painter, sculptor, and stained glass maker. He will always be one of my biggest inspirations. In terms of media, there's a ton - but I started internalizing art as a skill after seeing the Shivering Isles DLC concept art by Adam Adamowicz. I started appreciating how art can be weird and beautiful and whatever you want after reading Evan Dahm's Rice Boy (and the rest of his work). I also had a particularly beautiful book cover for A Wrinkle in Time by Leo and Diane Dillon when I was little and their art rewired my brain chemistry. At the time I said Adamowicz was my most impactful inspiration but on reflection I really do think it's the Dillons. I talked a little about it here.

(2023-24) Commissions haven't been updated in a while. Can I get some more information as to why?

I have a post here about it! If you're one of my clients, please feel free to reach out to me if you have any further issues. I apologize for the delay and am more than happy to work out something with you if you're unhappy with the wait. I'd advise messaging me here or on discord - the latter of which is linked in the post.

TTRPG/DND STUFF

What system is your DnD game running?

I'm running my game using a modified 5e ruleset. 5e happened to just be the first TTRPG system I learned and I also really enjoy Forgotten Realms as a setting - though I take extensive liberties with both. I'll probably be moving away from WoTC's products and the system after this campaign, though. I already change lore so much the setting has a lot of differences.

What materials do you use in your DnD game? Do you play online or in person?

As much as I'd adore to get to play IRL with my friends at some point, our game is currently online. For our current campaign I recently made the switch from Roll20 to Foundry VTT. If you're an online exclusive DM and have the money to buy the one time license, I would recommend it!

A list of what I use to run my current game:

Foundry VTT

Discord (A custom server for Voice Chatting/Private DMs/Memes and art sharing/Scheduling)

Epic Isometric (On Patreon. Digital isometric maps and tokens. Have been using them since at least 2020 if not earlier. Will be making tutorial videos soon!)

The Dungeon Sketcher (Also on Patreon. Also isometric maps and tokens. The artist frequents Epic Isometric's discord server where we all share custom assets we've made, too. His stuff blends in pretty seamlessly with EpicIso)

Vile Tiles by Gabriel Pickard (Found on the Roll20 marketplace, but you can use the assets in any VTT. For theater of the mind and RP backgrounds)

Artstation (Our game is not streamed, so I tend to use backgrounds I source from concept artists for RP backgrounds. If you stream a game, obviously always ask the creators of your assets if you can use them.)

Procreate/An art program (I draw the PC/NPC portraits for our game myself)

Milanote/Any note-taking method (Milanote is just what I use to plan the game, since I already use it for other hobbies and commissions as well.)

Do you stream your game? Is there someplace I can find out more about it? Are you looking for players?

I am not looking for players! Our game is also not recorded or streamed - mostly because I'd get some serious DM stage-fright. I also like it being a relaxing experience for myself and my friends where we're performing for ourselves, instead of with the pressure of a potential audience.

However, I do have a toyhou.se world where information on the game is available - including session recaps! If I ever get the time I also want to draw fun comics and little animations of what happens because my friends are very inspiring to me and DMing has quickly become a favorite hobby.

You can also search the words "Seven Asunder" on this blog and you'll find relevant posts here.

Can I use your art/assets/ideas in my own game?

I can't really stop you. If it's not recorded, streamed or monetized and you're not saying you created anything I made yourself, I legitimately don't care! This even includes using character art I've made. I just would like to politely request you don't post any of it publicly to avoid confusion and to respect my players - many of the NPCs in my games are also characters they create and I cannot give permission for them (obviously). It also would kind of suck to see one of my own beloved characters supposedly "belonging" to someone else.

Essentially, I understand taking inspiration and having "placeholder" images/artwork for characters in a game. Not all of us have time or resources to have custom art! Just don't take one of my or my players' OC's designs and start saying they're yours publicly , pretty please :)

Once commissions are over and I find the spare time, I intend to release free-to-use (personally and for streaming) art packs for folks' games. I also highly recommend the patreons I linked above.

#FAQ #no art here

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tokiro07 · 8 months ago

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Undead Unluck Week 2024

Day 5 - Favorite Arc: Intro Arc

This is without question the hardest prompt this whole week for me. I don't even have any arcs that I dislike, and you want me to pick the one that I like the most???

How am I supposed to choose between Andy and Fuuko beating Victor by learning that they can reinterpret their Rules in the Autumn Arc, the Union clashing with Under in classic shonen battle manga fashion in the Spring Arc, every Negator banding together to see Fuuko safely to the next world in the Ragnarok Arc, and Feng learning that he's a simp for Fuuko in the Hong Kong Arc??? This is a cruel question that makes me second-guess every decision I could possibly make for it!

However, after much deliberation, I realized that for me, there's only one answer that I could definitively be satisfied with, and one that I think deserves a lot more love than it gets: the introduction

When I say the introduction, I don't just mean the first couple of chapters in Shinjuku, I mean everything leading up to Andy and Fuuko officially becoming seated members of the Union. From their meeting in chapter 1 right up until Juiz challenges Fuuko to work her way up the ranks to become the First Seat of the Roundtable, I consider that entire span to be the first major arc

This is because this is the prologue to Fuuko's development and every single plot beat to follow; from believing herself to be unworthy of living, to realizing that life is worth living, to resolving to make life better for others, the journey of Fuuko's life begins here. Unlearning the lie she believes, learning the truth that she needs to understand, to gaining the confidence to spread that truth, none of that happens without first meeting Andy, then Gina, then Juiz

I really hate to sound like a hipster, but whereas other people had a tough time getting into UU when it started because they felt chapter 1 was too rough, I mean no exaggeration when I say that I fell in love with it instantly. It really did feel like I was the only one who knew it was going to be great all along, and while I'm ecstatic to see that I was right, there's a little bit of a bitter taste mixed in there considering that to this day I see people dismissing its origin

Both fans and haters alike talk about the introduction as if it's this arduous hurdle, something so unlike what comes later that they wish it weren't even there, but to me (and I hope more people reading this than I'm giving credit for), that "rough patch" is an absolute necessity. It is simply unskippable! To appreciate how far Fuuko and Andy come over the course of the narrative, you need to understand where they started, not just as individuals, but as a couple! Everything that Undead Unluck is, was, or will be can be summed up from the events of chapter 1, and the immediately following chapters set up the dynamic of the entire story to come

Without that arc, if somehow Tozuka had skipped straight to Spoil and started in media res, I don't know how attached I would have been to the story. But that's not what happened; instead, I turned every page with wrapt attention, engaged with every single panel, desperate to know what was coming next. And four years later, that feeling has not faded

Every Saturday night I go to bed like it's Christmas Eve; "Undead Unluck tomorrow!" I wake up, roll over, grab my tablet and just start reading the moment it gets uploaded. Everything else in Jump I read in chronological order, but UU? That cannot wait! I need to know what happens ASAP!

All of that excitement, all of that joy, all of that love was inspired by chapter 1 and reinforced by the arc that followed. Other arcs reached incredible highs that I never could have seen coming back then, and nearly all of them are much more refined by nature of Tozuka's growing experience, but the sheer wonder that I could feel being sparked in me from the very beginning? The feeling of the fire continuing to burn is completely different from the feeling of its ignition, no matter how much more brightly it shines

Perhaps future arcs will find a way to overturn this opinion; maybe the final arc will be so spectacular and such a perfect culmination of everything that came before that I can't imagine the story ending any other way, but for now, the beginning that so readily convinced me to follow this series and allowed me to feel so spectacular for so long has to be the one that I consider my favorite

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #uuweek2024 #uu spoilers

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ask-katima · 2 months ago

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God damnit, I hate when I forget to tag stuff and I have to go back and edit it… it’s so tedious-

Also an update on my lack of uploads these last 2 days, meaning this and yesterday- it’s because I was stuck traveling for a dentist appointment that I had in Praha (Czech Republic) and I’m a Slovakian, so yeah- that was a fun roadtrip… this is hours in a car, I didn’t bring my tablet since the art would have been done hastily and would be pretty shitty since a car ride can get janky when you’re going on a road for so long :/

Thanks for everyone liking and sharing my artwork and blog! I have read up on how it can spread better: REBLOGS! So if you really want to show the world just how much you like it, press that reblog button!

Okay, rant over. Thanks for reading!

#ask away!#send asks #ask #ask blog #undertale au #asks open #send me asks #rant post #lucas yaps

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whalehead · 1 year ago

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Are you alright? You'd said you had to go to hospital then you stopped uploading days later. Just worried for you, I hope you're okay.

I'm okay. Been at the hospital couple of times, just didn't touched my graphic tablet AND my sketchbook since then. All my free time is absorbed by college stuff, and I hate it, but I do plan on posting soon!!

Thx for your concern❤ It's really nice knowing that someone is worried about me there.

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theunusuallyferret · 1 year ago

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Inktober 2023: 4. Dodge

Day 4 of inkober. I am some days late due to some stuff. Made a Quetzalcoatl dodging a bite from a dragon. Losing some feathers. I really like the statues of these dragons. While making this I kept thinking of "The road to El Dorado" movie. Its great and everyone should give it a watch. Great music, amazing animation, and cool colors. (again tumblr hates it when I upload stuff on my drawing tablet...Idk if the quality is worse or not.)

#sketch #art #artwork #design #krita #monster #dragon #digital art #sketchbook #inktober2023 #art prompt #dodge #inktober dodge #quetzalcoatl

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leebrontide · 1 year ago

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Secondhand Origin Stories, Chapter 13

Here's this week's chapter! Reblogs welcome!

For those of you just joining us, I'm posting a chapter a week of my free near future scifi/low neon cyberpunk YA/NA novel, Secondhand Origin Stories, which has been described as

"-a character driven, compelling story full of family, queerness, corruption, brain altering nanites, secretly teen parenting AIs, and taking aspects of the superhero genre to their very human and rarely-explored natural conclusions."

For an index of already uploaded chapters that hopefully I will remember to update, content warnings and more, check here:

You can follow along by following #SHOSweekly

Chapter 13

Opal had no idea how to bring up the day’s revelations to the tower kids. Yael wasn’t even back yet, but Issac was absorbed in his tablet, obviously hard at work for his evil overlord, with a stack of energy drinks on the coffee-table-slash-trunk. Jamie was perched on the back of one of the couches, watching the news.

Opal didn’t know what to do, so she settled on pulling out her gym clothes. They needed washing. Somewhat urgently. She’d have to head back to the laundromat soon.

Did she even need these? If she wasn’t going to be a superhero, she didn’t need to train to fight.

Plodding footsteps heralded Yael’s arrival, sweaty and slouching so badly xe was almost a normal person’s size. Xe closed the door behind xyr, then slowly lay down on xyr back on the concrete floor. “I hate heat.”

Jamie climbed over the sofas towards xyr while Issac got up and went to the fridge. Opal cocked her head to the side. It was completely gross outside. But-- “Don’t you have literal ice powers? Like, aren’t you pretty much immune to heat?”

“Only when my exoskeleton is out. Otherwise, heat is my nemesis.”

“I thought you said cars were your nemesis.” Yesterday, xe’d had to ride here in the back of Aldis’s truck. Xyr larger-than-life frame didn’t fit in the cabin.

“Heat. Cars. Also diet pop and actual evil.”

Issac strolled over and handed a huge Gatorade to Yael, who took it wearily. Well, if Yael’s genetic lineage was secret, xe couldn’t walk around all silver, could xe? Even if refraining meant risking dehydration or heatstroke or something.

Yael shoved xyrself up, leaving a surprisingly complete puddle, and chugged the whole drink in one go. Oh, the joys of Midwest summers. Xe lay back down, and turned xyr head towards Opal. “I need a pizza and a break before we train. Ugh, I miss the pool.”

The VIP suite itself was fully air conditioned and humidity-controlled-- the building housed delicate antiques, and any VIP suite residents got the same thing as a fringe benefit. Yael would cool down soon. There was a bigger concern. “Do we need to train?”

Yael looked at Opal, and then sighed, closing xyr eyes. “Well, I still need lessons…?” Everybody looked at Issac.

He made a face. “You guys can obviously talk to me with the contacts in. Why would you bother?”

Jamie answered. “Because you obviously hate them. Plus, you can’t wear them all the time. I don’t think you should be sleeping in them.”

Oops, had he been? She hadn’t noticed. He seemed like someone who didn’t read the instructions. “Oh, you should definitely not be sleeping in those,” Opal agreed wearily. “One eye patch is cool. Two eye patches, less so.”

Yael piped up with a serious tone from xyr floor puddle. “It has puns. American Sign Language has built-in puns.”

“I am not tempted by puns,” Issac objected with an attempt at contempt.

“Liar,” Jamie answered promptly.

Ah-ha. So puns were the key. “The sign for ‘pasteurized’ is the sign for ‘milk’ passed in front of your eyes.” She demonstrated. He tried so hard not to smirk. Bless his heart.

She liked these guys. Even Issac. That made this all that much harder. “Look,” Opal continued, “I’ll help if you want, while I’m still in Chicago. But it’s up to you.”

Jamie, who unfortunately was still adorable by the bright light of day, watched her sadly. “You’re really leaving?”

Yael put xyr hands over xyr eyes and made a rough and sudden noise of frustration. Opal startled. Issac scowled, probably trying to figure out if his contacts were mistranslating or not. Jamie leaned over the back of the couch.

Yael sat up with a sweeping gesture. “But you’re good! You’re brave and selfless and moral!” Xyr voice was raising, and xyr eyes looked suspiciously shiny. “If you’re quitting--”

Opal was beyond startled by Yael’s vehemence. “It doesn’t mean you can’t--”

“Yes it does! You’re a real hero! You were gonna fight Ezekiel, by yourself with no support, to save a girl you didn’t even know! If you think the APB is too corrupt-- and you know more about what they’re doing than I do--”

Well, one benefit of giving up her lifelong dream was that she wouldn’t have to worry about how mad Helix would be if Opal accidentally talked Yael out of being a superhero. LodeStar had been waiting for Yael to replace him. Now, maybe xe never would. Opal hoped she hadn’t just made things worse.

Issac attempted to console his sibling. “Yael, you’ve been studying the APB since you were like eight.”

“But I didn’t know anything about the prison, not really--”

“The prison,” Issac interrupted, standing a little straighter, “isn’t exactly what it sounds like.” He shot a challenging look at Opal. “They hired me-- and at a very competitive rate, by the way-- to help with rehabilitation.” He looked at his siblings. “You know what that brain injury did to Jenna. Lasansky wants to treat the inmates with head injuries, so they can go back home. Be safe to join society.”

Bull. Shit. “Nuh-uh. No way,” Opal challenged immediately. “They don’t give a crap about the health of the people stuck in there.”

“They care about recidivism,” Issac answered with a tinge of triumph he had not earned. “Preventing second offenses.” Such bullshit.

Yael dragged xyrself back up unenthusiastically. “Nodiah does care about that. He was so angry about the pilot having been recently released early from his sentence.”

Opal’s mouth dropped open. “Early release?” Opal repeated. “That’s-- they never even do that!” She’d never heard of anyone getting out early. If anyone should qualify for that, it should be her daddy. Her nails dug into her palms.

Yael tilted xyr head to the side. “Really?” Opal nodded stiffly, and xe frowned. “But the pilot…Eustus whatever-his-name-was…he was released early. And he has to have come from the Detroit prison.” Yael’s eyes went wide with horror. Xe looked at Issac. “Could Lasansky afford a jet?”

Opal didn’t wait for Issac to answer or to figure out what Yael was talking about. “Yes. They make a fortune off government contracts and prison labor. They’re loaded.”

Yael took a deep, slow breath, gears clearly turning in xyr head. “OK. Nodiah told me Lasansky is a suspect. For something. He’s being investigated-- I thought it was because he’d hired Issac-- but he had access to the pilot, he had access to a jet…what if Nodiah thinks he’s the mastermind behind the attack on the tower?”

“The news said they couldn’t figure out how the pilot had access to a jet,” Jamie added cautiously.

Opal looked at Issac-- the one injured, and the one working for the maybe-suspect. Issac was already shaking his head, but one hand was drifting up to his ear, and he looked haunted. “No. No, guys, you’re being paranoid. Lasansky’s got no reason to want to blow us up, or deafen me, or any of this. Without superheroes, he’d be out of a job. None of you even trust Bridgewater. Even if Bridgewater does think that, it doesn’t make it true. If more people are getting put in prison than they should, it’s on Bridgewater, not Lasansky.”

As if it had to be one or the other. Opal looked at Yael. “What did Bridgewater actually say when he saw you today?”

“Mostly it was a bunch of stuff about needing to look good in front of people and…”

“And?”

“…and making sure to separate Issac from Lasansky before--” Xe winced. “Before he gets too much blood on his hands.”

Opal felt a chill.

Issac snapped, “I am trying to help people!” Opal jumped. She recognized his defensive, angry posture from when he yelled at his mom. This really got under his skin. He almost looked on the verge of crying. And since he wasn’t planning to use his creepy tiny robots on himself…he must really be thinking about what they could someday do for other people. Jamie put a hand on his shoulder.

So Issac was trapped between two powerful men who Opal loathed. The demonstrably horrible jerk who profited off of other people’s forced prison labor, and the demonstrably horrible jerk who was funneling people into Lasansky’s hands. But it didn’t make sense. “Why would those two even be fighting? They’re a perfect parasitic match.”

Her answer came in disorienting surround-sound from all their phones and tablets. “I have an idea.” It was Martin. “The APB just released some press about a new bill being proposed by Secretary Bridgewater on Monday. He is calling it an ‘anti-recidivism’ measure, and it’s aimed at reducing the number of superheroes and prison beds required.”

“What’s the bill?” Jamie asked.

Silence. Issac frowned. “Martin? You there?”

Martin was quiet, apologetic. “It’s a ‘reform’ to sentencing laws for altereds. It…would make any violent crime eligible for the death penalty. In some cases it could be retroactively applied.”

Daddy. It felt like being kicked right through her ribs.

Officially, he was “dangerous.” A violent criminal. No. She felt a crashing tsunami-swell of anger as she spun towards Yael. “Your uncle’s trying to kill my dad!” She knew this wasn’t under Yael’s control. That the feeling of betrayal welling up inside her was unfair. Yael didn’t even go on the defense. Xe just stood there, shoulders slumped-- looking as helpless as Opal felt, but without matching Opal’s fury.

Opal didn’t know what to do with her rage. She could see the glinting reflections of the fear, anger, and pain lighting her skin refracting off the tears in her eyes. She’d come here to protect her dad and the others like him. Now things were getting even worse, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

She’d been planning to give up, and this was what happened. She’d been so busy worrying, she hadn’t even had time to feel ashamed yet of giving up on him when she gave up on being a superhero.

She hadn’t thought his life was on the line. Not like this.

A butterfly-light touch connected with Opal’s shoulder. Jamie, offering an invitation with an open arm. It gave Opal a path to move along. Jamie was still sitting on the back of the couch. She folded herself around Opal in a protective embrace. Opal tried to get herself settled, but really, she didn’t want to let go of this anger, or this fear. They were real and just, and she wouldn’t recognize herself if she couldn’t feel pain like this. Opal could feel a fast, fluttering heartbeat in Jamie’s neck. Jamie, upset by the injustice, or by Opal’s pain. Opal didn’t care which, in that moment. She put one hand on Jamie’s back and pulled her closer. Not to soothe, but to center herself. To feel she wasn’t the only one feeling. Jamie held her tight.

What would happen when Shani heard about this? Or her mom? Did Daddy know?

Issac’s nanites were supposed to affect Issac’s hearing. And they were supposed to go to Lasansky. Who would they test them on? She didn’t think for a second they cared about head injuries. She didn’t know what they wanted them for. But her deaf daddy would make an obvious target for testing. For them to pretend they were helping. Never mind that Daddy wouldn’t want that help. That he didn’t want or need to be fixed.

They said Issac’s nanites had almost killed him. Who would be there to save her dad?

“It’s just a bill--” Issac started.

Opal drew up out of Jamie’s arms to whirl on him. He flinched and put up his hands, but he held his ground. “I mean it’s not a law. Not yet. People will be fighting this. Lasansky will be fighting this.”

“You think he cares? Do you know how many people die in there--”

Issac shook his head vehemently. “He gets paid per prisoner. This could wipe out his business. You don’t have to trust him at all to trust that he cares about his bottom line.”

“That’s motive,” Jamie interjected, as if the words startled her. “Bridgewater was in our house, the morning of the attack. We weren’t the target. He was. To keep him from proposing his bill.”

“Exactly,” Martin agreed.

“But Nodiah is fine,” Yael objected. “If Lasansky had tried and failed to assassinate him, then why is he still here, hiring alienated bioengineers instead of getting away?”

“Overconfidence? Greed?” Jamie suggested.

“Or he still thinks he can get it to work.” Opal looked at Issac. “Which would mean he has a new plan. Probably one that involves a desperate and alienated bioengineer.”

“Firstly, everybody stop calling me that. And secondly, he hasn’t asked me to kill anybody, I promise.”

“Hasn’t he?” Jamie asked. “Issac, your nanites. They almost killed you.”

“But they didn’t.”

“Because I was there. But if you wanted to use them to kill somebody, wouldn’t they be perfect for it? Nobody at the clinic could find any trace of them. Even after I told them what happened.”

He looked down at his tablet, which Opal now realized had that stupid little thumb drive she’d given him plugged into the side.

“Perfect for assassination,” Yael agreed, darkly.

Martin surrounded them again. “With a little modification they could mimic stroke, cause a coma, or even dementia. I suspect a little further development could make them ideal for torture.”

Opal felt sick. “So you just handed a perfect murder weapon to him.” And Opal had handed it to Issac. Oh, God. She’d made it worse. She’d made everything so much worse. She’d just been trying to help out.

Her attention was glued to Issac as he slowly pulled the drive out of his tablet. “I haven’t sent it yet. I was still securing the connection.” He looked haunted. Good. Let him take this seriously. He looked up. “I actually do care about safety. I do get that-- I just wanted to help people!”

What could she say to that? She really did think he wanted to help. He was naive, but he wasn’t cruel, and he seemed to try not to be careless. She held his eyes with her own. “Then you can help by making sure he doesn’t get that data.”

“This is all speculation,” he answered, glancing away. She bit her tongue. He wasn’t really arguing anymore. He was just turning the drive over in his hands.

“We need more information,” Jamie agreed.

The fight went out of Yael. “He’s being investigated.”

“By Bridgewater,” Opal growled. So, great, even if they beat Lasansky, the APB would get the thumb drive. The same APB that was trying to kill her daddy.

Opal hadn’t realized Jamie was still holding on to her until Jamie’s hand balled into a fist on Opal’s sleeve. Jamie’s voice was quiet, but solid. “Then we should do something.”

Jamie had suddenly turned Opal’s despair into something else-- something fragile, bright, and terrifying. They all knew this moment from every story about every hero. The moment when you decided to be a hero, or a bystander. To commit completely or walk away. Either way, she’d have consequences to answer for.

If they did this-- if Opal did this-- she’d be making herself vulnerable to the same vigilantism charge that lost her her daddy. The same charge that might cost him his life. Even if they won-- even if they saved the day, Opal could still wind up dead. Dr. Tillman promised Opal legal protection. But that was conditional on Opal guarding her kids. Joining them to guard others-- that was no guaranteed pass.

But these three were who she had here. Jamie was tiny, Yael had already attacked one superhero, and Issac was the root of this whole thing. The four of them weren’t exactly the Sentinels, but she trusted that each of them cared about doing the right thing. And at the moment, the right thing was about protecting Issac’s invention from evil usage, and exposing Lasansky.

It was what Opal had already pledged her heart to. Just like her daddy, she had to do the right thing, and hope her family would forgive her if it all fell apart.

“We have the data,” Opal said. “We have the thing Lasansky wants, the thing that has to be kept out of the wrong hands, right here. Nobody else has that.”

Issac looked down at the flash drive. He looked sick. “Bad guy bait.”

Opal nodded. “Maybe I’m not going to be a superhero. Maybe none of us are.” She glanced at Yael, who said nothing. “But I don’t trust the APB and I don’t trust Lasansky. I trust all of you. And I think, together, we can make sure this ends here. That nobody else has to get hurt. If you’ll help me.”

“I’m in,” Jamie said immediately. Opal put her hand over Jamie’s hand, still on Opal’s arm. Jamie wasn’t altered, but conviction and courage had to count for something. And Jamie had both in spades.

Issac messed up his hair. “Oh, this is so stupid... Fine. I’m in. If I’m going to tank my career at eighteen, at least I’ll be sure my tech doesn’t hurt anybody. Else.”

Just Yael left-- the one with the most to gain from the APB. The strongest of them. Xe watched the thumb drive in Issac’s hand. Xe was silent for long enough, Opal started to wonder what Yael would do if xe decided not to go along with this. Would xe call Nodiah? Yael’s voice was quiet and xyr hands gleamed silver when xe answered. “Superhero or not, I want to protect people. If we can do what the APB can’t, what our family can’t, then I’ll do what I can.”

“Then I think I have the start of a plan.”

* * *

Jamie set up the tablet on the coffee table and sat back on the couch. She should make the call before she had a chance to second-guess.

She never had called home, this morning. Apparently, this was the push she needed.

If Mom was talking to her, she would tell Jamie that she was in a strong position to negotiate right now. Dad had to have realized he'd messed up. He had to know he’d crossed the line.

Did he think Jamie had crossed the line, too?

Jamie glanced over to Yael, who was stretching on the concrete floor. Preparing for a fight. Yael wasn’t mad at Jamie, as far as Jamie could tell. But Yael hadn’t actually gotten hurt.

Opal leaned a hip on the back of the couch. She looked grim, with violets and green flashing in her skin. "Couldn't you call Capricorn or Helix instead? I think that’d be easier."

It would be easier. But it wouldn't get the questions Jamie needed answered, answered. "It'll be fine," Jamie assured, her voice hollow. "Besides, he's in charge of the team."

Opal chewed her lip and leaned over the couch. “I hate that I’m the one telling you guys this…but according to Capricorn, LodeStar isn’t in charge anymore. He’s a figurehead. Capricorn says he’s been giving the orders for a while, now.” Jamie frowned as Opal licked her lips, looking at each of them. “He said that the reason LodeStar’s so messed up is because his joints are pretty much destroyed. Even before yesterday, his shoulders and spine and everything were a mess. And he’s taking serious narcotic painkillers pretty much non-stop. My mom told me that for that to work on someone with an altered’s metabolism, he’d have to be popping them like candy to keep them in his system.” She shifted, uncomfortable. “I thought that you all deserved to know.”

Jamie’s mind went blank. It was as if Opal was speaking a language Jamie didn’t know.

Dad was one of the top superheroes in the country-- a force of nature. He could shatter stone under his feet, fly, and was even immune to aging. Painkillers were for pain. Why would someone as strong as him ever need them?

But Opal wouldn’t lie. Drew would never make up something like that.

And it fit Dad perfectly, didn’t it? She didn’t think any amount of pain would make him stop. He’d never complain. He would always keep fighting, no matter what. And if he had to take something for that pain, he’d do it quietly. He wouldn’t want to draw attention to it. Just like how Issac hated the text on his eyes being visible. Don’t draw attention to weaknesses, as if they mattered. Just keep going.

No matter what.

Jamie’d known there was something. She’d known it. She never would have guessed this, but something was wrong.

Jamie could tell this was as shocking to Yael and Issac as it was to her. She watched empathy and anger brawl in Yael’s eyes. She could see Issac mentally scanning years of memory-- testing this new information against his experiences, checking for a fit.

Jamie’s pocket sighed with Martin’s voice. “Thank you, Opal.”

That put an end to any doubt.

Jamie attempted a smile for Opal. “Thanks. I think I needed to know that.” Opal nodded back. Jamie just wished she had time to really process this before she talked to Dad.

She could call Drew, instead of her dad. Opal had just given her the perfect excuse. But that still wouldn’t get her all the answers she needed.

Jamie re-prepared herself, drawing herself up. "OK, everybody else stay out of the frame. I don't want him to get distracted."

Issac sat on his bed, knees up and elbows braced on them, glowering. "I don't understand any of this."

"Yes, you do," Jamie countered, looking back at the screen. "You just don't like it."

Her stupid heart was speeding up. Was she scared of him? No. She refused. "OK, Martin. Call him, please."

Martin put the call through. It rang. And rang.

Jamie stayed put as the others paused their preparations to turn and look as it kept ringing. As he kept not answering.

That scared her.

She was about to tell Martin to hang up with the screen flickered on.

At first, she didn't understand what she was seeing. Dad sat in the center of his couch, dimly illuminated by the screen of the TV he was watching her on. The blinds were drawn, and only thin slices of light sketched the space behind him. Something was off about the shape of him-- unshaven, wearing a bathrobe and pajama pants, watching her with that grave, motionless intensity.

One sleeve of his robe hung flat, empty. The front of his robe was open enough, she could tell his arm wasn't in a sling against his chest.

It was gone. Like Jenna's. And like Jenna's, it hadn't been designed to come off. Jamie could see black and red bruising creeping up his neck from the shoulder, and the edges of a cast’s network at the edge of his robe.

She remembered the sound of cracking. They must have taken his arm off because his collar bone was...just that shattered. His body couldn't support his metal arm anymore. In all the fights he'd been in, that had never happened before. Jamie's eyes tracked back to Yael. Yael had done to LodeStar what no supervillain had ever managed to do.

No, that wasn't true. It was Dad's right arm, gone. A supervillain had destroyed his original right arm before Jamie'd been born. And both his legs. How many times had he been taken apart, in his life?

"Jamie," Dad said. His voice was tight, clipped. Angry? Or just in pain?

She couldn't read him, and had no idea how he was reading her. She'd have to hope words would do the job anyway. "I need backup," she told him, as matter-of-factly as possible.

She could see him try to sit up straighter. Now she knew to watch more closely. While nothing else in his face shifted, his pupils contracted in pain at the movement. "What happened. What do you need?"

"Issac took a job with Lasansky Securities International. He didn't know they were under investigations for the attack on the tower. But we think they’re trying to weaponize Issac’s nanites, and that Lasansky tried to kill Bridgewater to prevent him from introducing this new bill."

"I can be there in ten minutes--" Dad started.

"Dad, no. Listen. We have a plan. Issac is going to try and get him to confess. And we can get it on security cameras. I'm calling you because we want the team standing by just in case everything goes wrong, and to make arrests at the end. But we want you to wait, Dad. You need to give us a chance to get this done. Without the APB jumping in."

"You can't be serious--"

"Yes, I can!" she held up her gauntleted wrist. "You gave me this. This was your idea. Because you know that if there's a problem I can fix, I'm always going to try. And this means I can help. So I'm going to. Even with how you acted yesterday, I still trust you, so I called you. I didn't have to! We have Opal and Yael. We could have just done this ourselves. But we wanted you to help us make a perimeter. Because your home and your family got attacked, too. I...I know you want to help.” Even though his body wanted to quit, Dad wanted to keep going. Keep helping. Jamie understood that.

“This isn’t what I meant. I meant for you to defend yourself. Not set up a problem deliberately. The professionals can handle this.”

“Well, they haven’t yet. Lasansky is going to underestimate us. Just like everyone always does. And Issac has what Lasansky wants. If you come in before we have a chance to help, Issac might wind up getting arrested along with Lasansky.”

That was what it took for Dad to allow pain to show on his face. His left hand came up, rubbing over his face. “This isn’t what I--”

“Will you help us, or not?”

“Of course I’ll help you,” he nearly snapped.

“Then make sure Lasansky doesn’t get away, and come in if we need you.”

“Yael and Issac agreed to this?”

Issac grunted and shoved himself upwards, stalking around to lean in behind Jamie, where Dad could see. “I made a mess, so I’m fixing it. Jeez, Dad.” Jamie felt Issac stiffen as he got a look at Dad for the first time. Hearing that Dad was hurt and seeing him like this were not the same.

Yael stayed off camera, reaching out to xyr toes, on the floor. Xyr tone was curt. “You’ve been training me for this my whole life. If I don’t protect people from dangerous altering tech, what was the point?”

Expressions too cloudy for Jamie to decipher slid across Dad’s face as Yael spoke. Even if things worked, and they all went back to make sure Martin was secure, there would still be a lot of work to do.

“What about that other altered girl? Where is she.”

Opal slid in beside Jamie, chin up and shoulders back. “I’m right here, Mr. Voss. And I wouldn’t have come to Chicago if I wasn’t willing to do what I could to prevent dangerous technology from being used on innocent people. This is exactly what I came here to do.”

Dad let out a long, low breath. “Your mother is going to hate this. I hate this. But fine. I’ll back you up.”

Everybody used to say that Jamie was just like her dad. As they’d drifted apart, she’d stopped believing it. This was what it took for her to feel that connection again.

Dad was one-armed, fresh from surgery, and probably in worse pain than Jamie had ever experienced. If he was taking painkillers that could cloud his mind, it was because the pain was bad enough to do worse. But he didn’t want to quit. He probably didn’t know how. Just like Jamie.

“Not you.” Finally, her voice sounded like she’d always wanted it to. Sure, clear, and steady. The soprano version of his. Her heart rate slowed, and something in her centered for the first time.

It was like she’d been looking in a fun-house mirror her whole life, and had just now figured out that the real world was right behind her. Dad was a mess. He was just struggling to cope. So was Mom with her missing nails, and Solomon with his hiding. And Drew, keeping other people’s secrets when he knew better.

“Dad, you’re in no shape. Send Drew and Solomon. They’ll be enough.”

In another time and place, Dad’s shocked reaction would have been funny. Not much shocked him. “I’m not going to sit by while my kids--”

“You need to take care of yourself,” Jamie said, her words rock-solid enough to quiet him, at least for a second. “You’ve been doing this for too long. Drew told us what’s going on with you. Yesterday, you stepped over the line. If you can’t control yourself, then you need to sit this out. Send the others, but I don’t want you here.”

Dad was stunned. Warm fingers interlaced with Jamie’s, and Opal squeezed Jamie’s hand, down where he couldn’t see them. Jamie kept her eyes on her dad’s.

It hurt him. But it needed saying. All her life, he’d kept Jamie from hurting herself by over-reaching. Now, he needed the same thing. Issac leaned over the back edge of the couch, and when Dad’s eyes flitted to Issac for a moment, Issac nodded, backing her up.

But he looked squarely to Jamie when he conceded with a tight voice, “I’ll send Solomon and Drew.”

Jamie nodded. She nearly hung up, right then. But guilt gnawed at her. There was always a chance this plan could go wrong, with too much left unsaid.

“Dad, I’m not sorry about pulling the gauntlet out, yesterday. But I’m not scared of you. I want you to know that.”

His eyes softened, just a little. Maybe as much as they could. “Thank you, Pumpkin. I’ll see you when all this is over.”

Jamie smiled back. There was too much to do for her to be happy, but finally, she felt like she had her dad back. “I’ll see you then.”

* *

Issac’s attention flipped to Yael as Jamie’s screen went dark. “Well, congratulations. You’re the first altered to take LodeStar out of commission for an indefinite amount of time in like twenty years.”

Xe sat up. YAEL: What?

“They took his arm off. Because you fucking shattered his clavicle.” He hated this. He hated this more than anything. The whole family was going down in flames. He wasn’t supposed to have to see this. “Maybe he’ll get a crate of his own. We can store Jenna’s with the Christmas decorations and Dad’s with the Hanukkah supplies.”

It wasn’t fair to be mad only at Yael. He knew that. Xe wouldn’t have done that without having some kind of reason. But it was hard to face. Yael looked sick, eyeing him suspiciously. Not wanting to believe it. Xe was the only one who hadn’t seen him.

Jamie had taken on a weird, serene look Issac didn’t like. It looked too much like someone prepared to die. JAMIE: He’ll be OK. She stood up. We can worry about Dad later. He’s safe at home. We should focus on the plan.

“Aren’t you mad at him? You pointed a weapon at him.”

Jamie tilted her head, considering. JAMIE: Yeah. But he doesn’t want me to be scared of him. And now he’s actually listening to me. So it’ll be OK.

“‘It’ll be OK?’ We’re trying to lure a potential terrorist to the place we’re living, taunt him with dangerous experimental tech, and the best case scenario has me handing that tech over to the same organization that’s apparently been feeding our dad serious narcotics for years, and has repeatedly snatched limbs from our family. Where are you getting ‘OK’ from that?” Issac still wasn’t completely convinced that Lasansky was the real bad guy, since Bridgewater seemed to be even worse than Issac had imagined, but Issac still needed a lot of answers before he’d hand his tech over to just anyone.

Opal, at least, had some of the somberness Issac felt the situation warranted. And she was holding Jamie’s hand. Huh. OPAL: We can’t completely win this. This is damage control.

A Kobayashi Maru. An unwinnable fight to test your character.

The flash drive was still in Issac’s hand. He hadn’t set it down since Yael’s suspicions came up.

He turned it over, running it between his fingers.

“I just wanted to help people. This could still help people.” People like Jenna. Maybe people like him.

But, unfinished, it was a lot more of a weapon than a medical intervention.

JAMIE: Jenna would be mad you took this job. Even if Lasansky isn’t a terrorist, testing experimental tech on people who can’t leave, who have to depend on their captors for food, and medical help--

OPAL: --And who can’t always even call home. I haven’t heard from my dad since I got here. They can isolate him whenever they want, for whatever they want. You really think they’d just…be nice about this one thing, and only take willing participants?

Fuck. Jenna would be furious. Mom would kill him.

And they’d both be right. Damn it. Progress without ethics was…like the plot of 50% of the science fiction he’d ever watched, read, or listened to. He knew better. But he’d wanted to help. He’d just…trusted the ethics of powerful organizations too much.

And he’d been too afraid. Too ashamed.

He wasn’t going to put anyone else at risk over his damn feelings.

He’d come this far, in less than two years, before he was even 18.

He could always invent it again, someday. If he could create a place and an organization where it could be made safely. Where an agency he could actually trust would do the job the APB was supposed to.

The only way to win a Kobayashi Maru was to change the game.

He got up and went to the kitchen. He made his mind as blank as he could, trying to ignore the way his heart was a staccato spasm in his chest. Just one foot in front of the other. That was all he had to think about. The drive was the bait. They needed it to lure a confession out of Lasansky.

But they didn’t need the actual data for that.

If Lasansky turned out to be the good guy here, Issac was going to be furious at himself for this.

Issac dropped the drive into the toaster and pushed down the lever before he could second-guess himself.

A few bursts of shocked but not especially coherent text blipped up, and he ignored them. He watched the coils turn a deep, smouldering red. There was no turning back now. It was over. He didn’t have to worry about whether he could go through with it. “Sorry, partner. Maybe someday.”

MARTIN: I understand. This is better. Thank you.

That was Martin. They had nothing to prove to anybody. No ego to soothe. Just a pure desire to imagine, invent, and help.

The coils turned from red to glaring orange. The drive case was titanium. He couldn’t break it. He didn’t even trust deletion. But it had no wireless access, so unless anyone plugged it in, there was no way to tell the data’d been destroyed by the heat.

Even if this whole thing went completely belly-up, Issac wouldn’t leave behind a legacy that could be used to hurt anyone else.

The time went off, and the toaster tried to give him back the useless husk of a thumb drive. But it had fallen into the coils. “Yael, can you dig this thing out for me? I don’t want to burn my hands.”

Slowly, Yael stood, and came over to him. Everyone was staring.

The attention was harder to bear than watching the toaster. His eyes started to itch the way they did when there was too much liquid between cornea and contact. His nose felt runny. He sucked it up and produced the best smirk he could while Yael silently took the appliance, unplugged it, and fished out the drive with a silver-black hand. “Whatever. I’m a genius. Make something better later, anyway.”

Jamie looked proud of him, so that had to be worth something. And Opal looked less like she was going to cry, which was a relief.

“And I do like puns. And androids.” He looked at Jamie and Yael. “Think Mom’ll give me a job fixing shitty software for contacts?”

Yael handed him back the drive, and put xyr other hand on Issac’s shoulder. YAEL: Whatever happens, you’ll have us.

* * *

Yael knew that, really, most battle plans didn’t make it past the first engagement. They were more like optimistic outlines than anything.

But their plan didn’t even make it that far.

Issac had sent a rude email to Lasansky saying that Issac quit and would head home in the morning.

Just like they hoped, Lasansky showed up in person not too long after. Just like Yael expected, he brought uniformed, armed guards. Which, for Yael, completely settled the question of Lasansky’s villainy. You didn’t bring armed altereds to deal with a concussed, unaltered string bean like Issac if you weren’t up to something.

So, all of that was fine. Yael was prepared for all of that.

The problem was the tall figure in neon orange who slumped out after the guards. If the orange jumpsuit wasn’t signal enough, Yael knew his face.

“The pilot,” xe breathed. And he wasn’t cuffed, wasn’t shackled. Lasansky was “transporting” him, but the man was obviously not a prisoner. That was more than enough proof for Yael that they were colluding.

He wasn’t as tall as Yael, but still stood nearly a head taller than the rest of them. His eyes scanned the area along with the guards.

A real supervillain. The one who’d taken aim and knocked Issac into the sky. Who’d wrecked Yael’s home and xyr family.

Xe turned back to the garage, where everybody was in their places, as ready as they could be. Xe couldn’t see Jamie from here. Issac was slouched in a folding chair, one leg bouncing. Him being bait was xyr least favorite part of this. Xe’d sworn to protect him. Opal leaned against a truck nearby, almost casual. Yael whispered, “The pilot is with him-- no cuffs or anything. That proves it.”

It proved it to Yael. And by Issac’s suddenly red face and Opal’s stoic nod through flashing amber lights, it was enough proof for them, too. But they needed more evidence than that for an actual court.

“Yael,” Jamie hissed from her hiding place. “Silver.”

Yael shook xyr head. A lot of the plan hinged on Yael staying out of sight until after they had the information they needed. Opal, who Lasansky didn’t know, would stay in the garage to protect Issac and, if necessary, Jamie. Yael’s job was to keep as many guards as possible from getting into the garage in the first place.

It didn’t matter if xe was silver. Nobody would see xyr.

Xe slipped out the back door and ducked into a mound of scraggly shrubs to make xyr way around the building. The gravel and the bushes were impossible to move silently through, but even though it was night, there was some manufacturing noise from the other buildings. That should cover any little sounds.

Xe made it to the front just in time to see Lasansky and three guards enter the garage door they’d left open. That left five guards and the pilot at the cars. Just like Jamie predicted, they didn’t expect anyone here to put up a fight. Xe crouched in the densest part of the bush xe could find.

Then there was a whole new problem. Xe had to wait. Just sit here, with the others out of xyr sight, watching the pilot lean against one of the SUVs with his arms folded and a distant look on his face. Xe wondered how old he was. If he was actually around Yael’s age, or if he was from an age-stable line. What sort of crime had gotten him arrested in the first place? What heinous thing had he done that would make Lasansky team up with him for the attack?

He kept himself away from the lackeys. Maybe he was higher up in the chain of command than them. He was unarmed. Either he was his own weapon, or he was Lasansky’s weapon.

Either way, Yael struggled to stay put. And the damn guards were chit-chatting so much, xe couldn’t make out what anybody was saying in the garage, even though xe could hear voices.

Xyr muscles coiled tight.

If it weren’t for him-- if he hadn’t started it all, xyr family wouldn’t be in tatters. Yael would be at home. Issac and Jamie would be safe. Yael would still be able to trust everyone, and Opal would probably already be a Sentinel.

Yael had killed two men in Hopkins, Minnesota, three years ago. Xe’d done it to protect Issac. Xe hadn’t wanted to.

But it had been so easy at the time.

It was only afterwards that Yael had felt sick. Started feeling those rippling memories under xyr skin.

For the first time, the sense-memory of a brittle, flaking crunch followed by the sluggish ooze of cold blood didn’t repulse xyr. The instincts that knew that violence would always favor Yael projected those memories, and the wet grind of Neil’s bones, out onto the body of the pilot. Like a map to follow. How many more deaths would live under xyr exoskeleton by the end of today?

He wouldn’t be as easy, but there was no way killing him would leave xyr with that sick feeling in the pit of xyr stomach. Xe wouldn’t need to lock the memory of his death away.

Papa said guilt was good. That killing should never be easy. That the fear of guilt kept powerful people in check.

Yael didn’t want to be kept in check. Xe wanted to crush the villain who’d ruined xyr peace.

Xe couldn’t stay still. Xe was shaking with rage. Xyr temperature lurched from hot to cold as xyr exoskeleton tried to cope with the heat of xyr fury. The man who’d caused it all was right there. How could xe care about some elderly bureaucrat with a real supervillain standing right there?

It was more than xe could hold in. Some tiny shift, some grit-toothed breath, some reflection off xyr skin gave xyr away.

He turned to watch the bushes where Yael hid. Yael didn’t move, but xyr mind was spinning out possibilities. See me. Give me an excuse.

His posture changed, sensing danger, preparing for the fight that was feeling closer and more inevitable every second.

He shoved off the side of the van. Took two slow, testing steps towards the garage door. Like Hell would Yael let him get anywhere near the others. It was enough of a reason.

Yael leapt from the bushes, ready to tear the pilot apart. He moved back, and Yael didn’t register the sound of clicks fast enough.

Xe did register the sound of gunshots. Xe didn’t realize till xe felt the air rip behind xyr that xe was the target. Xe’d forgotten about the other henchmen.

Xe turned to dispatch them as quick as possible, but a word ripped through the air like another bullet. “Ezekiel!”

Xe stared at them. They believed it. Just like Opal, the darkly shining silver was enough to convince them that 18 years of death wasn’t enough to hold xyr birth father down.

There were still machining sounds in the distance. More signs of life. More people that might hear that name and believe it. And if they believed it, then anyone seen helping Yael would be at risk from a terrified mob.

The pilot broke rank and ran.

Jamie, Issac, and Opal were here. They needed protecting, but they also needed to not be tied to Ezekiel. Two instincts tore Yael in opposite directions.

Xe let rage cast the last vote, and sped after the pilot, ignoring the sounds of bullets.

They raced through a labyrinth of warehouses and factories. Yael ran harder than xe’d ever run before. Every ground-swallowing step took xyr further and further away from xyr real goal, xyr real purpose, like a tether that might snap.

Yael turned a corner. It dropped xyr into a throng of trucks, crates, and warehouse workers.

The pilot ran through the crowd-- deftly leaping over, darting through, and dodging every obstacle. His prison uniform caused a commotion.

But Yael’s showing up caused a cacophony of falling crates, terrified cursing and evacuation commands. They instantly forgot the pilot. Yael actually paused, first to look for the pilot, then to take in all the fear and chaos xe’d caused. More than the obvious escaped criminal.

In the corner of xyr eye, xe caught one idiot pointing a phone at xyr from inside. Xe scowled at him before xe could think about it.

Nodiah’s warnings rang through xyr head, echoing inside xyr exoskeleton.

This was Yael’s debut-- terrifying everybody. Looking like a monster.

Looking like xe always had, inside.

Xe froze long enough for a few loading dock workers to find their nerve. Xe saw some of them cautiously lifting crowbars, hammers, all kinds of improvised weapons. Xe could just about make out a pitchfork.

It was noble of them. Odds were, hardly any of them were altered. Maybe none of them were. But they saw a supervillain and a mass killer back from the dead, and armed themselves.

If xe went around them, xe’d lose the pilot for sure. If xe went through the crowd, they might attack. Xe couldn’t fight them.

Xe couldn’t cry when xe was silver. The exoskeleton locked any moisture inside it. Xe couldn’t sweat, couldn’t even bleed.

No fighting and no avoiding. One last desperate option available to avoid civilian injuries.

Xe pulled in as much air as heaving lungs could manage, deepened xyr voice, and tried to channel every booming command xe’d ever heard from the team. “Get out of my way! I’m after the terrorist, not you!”

Xe hoped the man with the camera was still rolling.

If only xyr voice hadn’t sounded so wrong.

But they mostly scrambled. Xe didn’t hear any crowbars drop. They cleared a path, only a few of them turned clumsy by fear.

“Move move move move!” xe demanded, running all-out. Xe’d lost sight of him. Had to find him, prove which side xe was on--

The briefest flicker of orange, reflected off a fender facing an alleyway, gave xyr new direction.

Xe found a new reserve of energy, and sprinted after him.

Two turns later, xe had the pilot fully in xyr sights. Three turns after that, he made a mistake.

He’d trapped himself in a dead end, with xyr blocking his only way out of a concrete and iron box.

He turned to face xyr.

#SHOSweekly

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jerirose · 2 years ago

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Spent my whole day working on YouTube and TikTok things! I redesigned my YouTube thumbnails and made 55 new thumbnails for my videos! Now they all look a lot more cohesive and and more simplistic, I really like how they look. I also redesigned and remade 35 TikTok Thumbnails for my new videos, which I'm editing to make shorter - they were 1 minute, and now they are 15 seconds. So not only did I make new thumbnails for my TikToks, but I'm making whole new videos, again more simplistic and clean - I made 20 out of 35. YouTube focuses on my art journey as a whole. I'm basically documenting my progress - even the paintings I hate have been uploaded as Speed Paintings there, each dated and organised by their dates too.

Whereas I think for TikTok I'm going to be mostly focusing on art pieces that I'm proud of or found to be a turning point / shift in my art journey. As I go to add more new edits to TikTok I'll be taking away the older ones. (I've already taken a few handfuls away). Please feel free to follow me on both or one, or neither, I'm not your dad, if you'd like to see how my paintings are made! I do really enjoy seeing the speed paintings myself from other artists cause it's super fascinating to me. I'll be using the tag "👽 Jeri's Youtube Uploads" so if you've no interest in them please feel free to yeet this tag 🤭 I won't be doing it for TikTok videos!

But if you'd like to follow me here's my Clock App account (I'm like 3 followers away from 300!!) Also.... 👀 my Red Play Button account is kinda close to 200 Subs 👀 And if by any chance you are interested in seeing me paint live, in a chill & relaxing environment where you can just vibe and unwind - or you like gaming, my Twitch account (I'm so close to 5K followers!). 🤨 (It's okay, I don't understand either)

Also even though I dislike it - my new Bird App account is close to 100 followers 🥰

#👽 stop speaking nonsense #proud of how productive I was today #Just a bunch of socials talk #artists on tumblr #staytists on tumblr #proud of my achievements too - this year has started off a little rough but that's okay #I don't want to let the rough last 2 months get me down - we get up - we keep moving forward

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kifu · 2 years ago

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Heya thank you so much for the art advice earlier! I was wondering if you had any specific suggestions for programs and/or brushes (you know specifically for someone whose only fine art experience has been in pencil and charcoal 😭) .

I’m currently using iArtbook because it’s free. I know Procreate is probably the most popular program but I’m literally -$300+ in my bank account right now, so that isn’t a current option 😅.

However I do believe you can upload brushes to the iArtBook app, honestly I’m not sure, I haven’t tried but you can edit the brushes in a very similar fashion to Adobe Photoshop. So I’m assuming you can also download and upload brushes. I actually really like this program because it has a similar feel to Adobe programs and as a Photographer I’m very experienced with Adobe (I have an Adobe Cloud Account).

In all honesty I’ve never been a good illustrator (since my main focus in my fine arts education was always photography) , but I find the activity meditative and I’m ALWAYS looking to improve.

(Also I was gonna DM you but cant so sorry for the long question 😅)

Yo, it's all good. No apology necessary.

I can only suggest what I know. I've never used Procreate, and I've never even heard of iArtbook. I'm also one of those that absolutely will torrent my art program of choice. And have.

A long, long time ago (like probably thirteen years), I got a copy of Corel (Coral? Idek anymore) free with the purchase of my Wacom bamboo tablet. I didn't know what I was doing yet and I hated it. My laptop hated it. It was very heavy and lagged big time.

I switch to Gimp, which is legally free and open source. I used Gimp for years with zero problems. You can import a lot of Photoshop brushes into Gimp without issue. Compared to Photoshop and Paint Studio, it's incredibly underpowered. Looking back at the art I made, however, I was not poorly off.

From Gimp, wanting more, I then switched to Photoshop CS5. It was incredibly easy to find and install. Personally, I say screw Adobe, since their current model is subscription based. I hate that. I used PS for yearsssssss, up until last year, I believe. It wasn't too heavy for my laptop to handle unless I used too big of a brush. It allowed me to expand my knowledge of digital art programs. It has way more to offer than I'll ever use. But as i mentioned before, the natural art brushes are ... okay, and the blending tool is awful. I learned to NOT ever use the blending tool because of PS.

Throughout time in my PS years, I switched from a Wacom Bamboo tablet to a Huion pen tablet (three different ones) to a Huion Kamvas 16 Pro tablet. With my family's help, I put money towards improving my art by way of hardware, and each tablet became significantly better. A good tablet will help TREMENDOUSLY, but by no means does anyone *need* to splurge on a screen tablet like the Kamvas series. I recommend Huion. It's hard to go wrong with them. In case that ever tickles your fancy.

Like, I'm pulling examples of art I've done with these programs and tablets, specifically unshaded pieces, to show that the software and hardware doesn't necessarily make the piece.

Now, I'm using Clip Studio Paint because it comes with so many native traditional brushes. Again, the company switched or threatened to switch to a subscription pay, so I have no qualms in resorting to circumventing their purchase page.

I will say, I think I love Clip Studio more than I ever did Photoshop. The brushes are just ... perfect.

Like this. This isn't pencil and paper! It's the pencil brush that comes with Clip Studio. It draws JUST like a pencil and I feel like I'm in my natural element when I get to use it.

If you do decide to use PS, or a program that is PS brush compatible, I'll have to find that set of brushes that works similarly to these.

These pictures both used one of the pencil brushes from that set in PS. The horse was painted with a watercolor wash brush; the human with a chalk brush. It's nowhere near as versatile as what can be used in Clip, though.

But I'm sure you could find many brushes through dA and gumroad to use until you find the one that works for you, too!

#lostgirl1428

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dragonwysper · 2 years ago

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I do a lot of the above currently, and I've done the rest (and more) previously.

I do traditional all the time, and that was the one I started with. Probably my favorite medium to work in.

I use all kinds of mediums in that too. I started with just an HB pencil, of course. But then that turned into all kinds of graphite, and that progressed into a brief charcoal phase (which I dropped and baven't touched because got damn that's a messy medium to work in), then I did Prismacolor colored pencils, then Copic Markers, then I tried watercolors, then acrylics, and now oils. I've done all kinds of other smaller things in other mediums, and not all of my previous phases have been fully dropped. I experiment and mix mediums a LOT. Copics are still my medium of choice when looking to draw something and color it, and I'll usually start with a pencil sketch, use a Gellyroll to line it, then use Copics to color, and then sometimes use Prismacolors for added depth and throw on some highlights with a Uniball. It's ridiculously fun to throw shit around and just... have fun with it.

Acrylic photo study | watercolor 'brellyfish' | pens and markers on my hand | Copics, Prismacolors, and pens | pencil doodle on an assignment

I have a nice screen tablet currently (and also use screen tablets in my animation class). My old tracking tablet broke.

I'm still really sad about that tracking tablet. That thing held strong for seven years!

When I draw with a finger on my phone, I usually do a sketch traditionally, then take a picture of it and bring it in as a base. Sometimes I'll do lineart traditionally and use the 'convert to lineart' feature on the apps I use. I'm actually getting a lot better at working on a phone!

Lineart scanned in from a traditional doodle, the rest done in MediBang on my phone. This actually isn't done yet.

And yes, when I was first starting out digitally, I used a mouse/trackpad. I actually made a full animation back then. In MSpaint.

Tumblr wouldn't let me upload videos, and the only way I could get this here was by making it a gif... which is extremely limited. But it's whatever. Enjoy the animation I made for an old Scratch project.

I used MSpaint until a year or two after getting my tracking tablet. Then I found FireAlpaca, and used that for a LONG time. Then that progressed to Clip Studio Paint, which I started using about a year or two ago.

Modern MSpaint drawing juxtaposed with a modern CSP drawing. Both WIPs that I need to finish.

In class, I use Photoshop, Adobe Animate (fucking hate Adobe though. Piece of shit company with unnecessarily complex toolbars/mechanics), and Toon Boom (Harmony and Storyboard). We were supposed to use Maya this year too, but we unfortunately didn't have enough time to get to it.

Toon Boom Harmony animation... that I also still need to finish lmao

On my phone, I started with IbisPaint, and now use MediBang.

This has become an art dump of a post, and honestly I so love it lmao. Y'all get to see some more of my art! Plus some really old shit! I'd share more if Tumblr didn't limit images to 10. Maybe another art dump will come in the future 👁

#art dump #traditional doodle #traditional art #copic markers #prismacolor pencils #skin art #pencil doodles #mixed media #phone art #medibang #ms paint #animation #scratch.mit.edu #mspaint animation #csp #clip studio paint #toon boom harmony #toon boom animation #my art

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meattruck · 1 year ago

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Man I hate how there's 2 really good prompts for chrbn week this year but I can't participate because of reason x (not vauging; just personal stuff), lack of time, AND THIS WHOLE COMPUTER ORDEAL and it's like oh how about u just do a traditional piece and ye that's true BUT THEN I CANT UPLOAD IT CUZ I CANT GLAZE IT CUZ I NEED A COMPUTER IN ORDER TO DO THAT

I FACKING MISS PAINTING ON MY COMPOOTER AND MY SILLY LITTLE BRUSHES !!!!! MY TABLET PROBABLY ALL DUSTY NOW!!!!

#im gonna be installing windows soon the ssd and i hope that goes smoothly but then i cant claim thia victory until i transfer my data #meat speaks #idk how ppl paint on the ipad its just so weird for me and i dont want to do that cuz of limited filespace on procreate :

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jupitercl0uds · 1 year ago

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i think im depressed lmao??? and i think the funniest part is that it was mildly triggered by my tablet breaking??? its my birthday in *just* over a week so maybe that'll cheer me up. also if im less depressed i might finally upload a youtube video of me making my birthday cake!!! i dont think anyone on here knows about my youtube channel? you don't have to, the last video i posted on there was my annual new year video and the one before that was on the 11th august 2022 (7th if you dont count youtube shorts) and i dont plan on reviving my channel yet. i will one day, but not now

you dont have to go 'omg are you ok???' btw cause i'm telling you now the answer is 'no'. i hate when people ask when im ok because it makes me feel like i'm being a burden (maybe i should try and change that) and that is the last thing i want to be. and if youre concerned, dont worry, i wont end up harming myself in any way other than mentally. ive never really wanted to harm myself physically and while i have been suicidal in the past, my brain just goes further instead. so either im completely fine or its 'why even bother killing yourself you're so pathetic and useless you'd fail. that's a waste of energy. energy you got from eating food - your mum paid for that - so basically, if you fail, which you probably will, you're wasting your mum's money.' idk how my brain got there either but at least im not suicidal!

anyway, im still gonna draw. i'll still be on tumblr dot com. i may have to put wswe on hold, therefore putting @wswe-autism-fic on sorta-hiatus. same thing with @knuckles-with-a-keyboard, but tbf i can probably keep posting to that. it might not be as much and it might not be as good and oh god how do you tell your mum you might wanna put piano lessons on hold for a bit because its all getting a bit much and youre going to be doing exams soon and oh my god what the hell. in the words of maia arson crimew (not tagging cause i dont think it needs a mental health rant in its notifs):

...but i stay silly :3

#spouting to the void #mental health stuff #tw mention of sh #tw mention of suicide

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commanderquinn · 1 year ago

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Good Space Chapter 5: Stuck In The Middle With You

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

—

consistent formatting? nah. in this house we believe in Convenient Formatting 🙏 rapid fire and no flashbacks again (when they start to get Super Painful later on you’ll mourn the days when i skipped them for extra fluff) we’re Zeroed In on the nerds for another hot minute. this is what happens when you get hooked on a fic by an idiot that’s more inspired by screenwriters than authors, srry ❤️

also this chapter (and probably quite a few throughout this fic) is specifically for the babes that have had to pick themselves up from the dirt after a romantic crash. i cannot tailor this in a vague way that lets anyone picking this up have their own catharsis here, right? mega impossible to one size fits all that. but what i CAN do is use the bundle of greek myth references that is ava’s concept to tell a story about regaining personal power after a total shitass tricks you into thinking youre not completely bitchin as you are ❤️

and i guess make a bunch of canadian jokes bc those are really funny to me tbh. thank you donnatella moss for the inspiration. the best accidental moose canada ever had

anyways. sit. get comfy 😌 think of the ex you reallyreallyreally wanna stab 🥰 and then go project that exact motherfucker onto alec ❤️

—

"Put it on."

"No."

"Put. It. On."

"Nope."

"It's going to look good on you."

Bucky flicks his eyes up from the news article open on his tablet. "Yes, it would."

"Great. Your head is still gigantic post-defrosting. Good thing the one I picked comes with buttons. Leave three of them undone—"

"I know how many to leave undone." That was a misstep. He knows it the second the words leave his mouth. She's going to use it as if it's compliance. It isn't.

"And I'm sure you remember how to get your arms through the holes, too. So, let's go." Natasha repeatedly taps her hand on the kitchen table, making her rings knock against the aged wood. "Make with the wardrobe change."

"I'm not wearing that, and I'm sure as hell not going anywhere," he counters blandly.

"Yes, you are. Get up."

"Eat dirt, Romanoff. I have this thing called a will of my o—"

"So, you don't want to go?"

"Correct."

"Nothing could convince you to change your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"Who do you think is going to be more disappointed when I repeat that at the bar, Wyatt or Ava?"

Bucky's eyes close slowly. Gently. The movement is a stark contrast to the anger swirling in him, the majority of which is aimed at himself, not the Russian seeking to ruin his life. This was so easy to spot coming. So easy. And he walked right into it.

"Have you given—" Steve attempts around a mouthful of food, cutting off when Natasha hits him in the back of the head to make him stop. He takes a moment to wash down the Coco Puffs with a gulp of fresh coffee after that. "Have you given Wyatt an autograph yet? I gave him one. Super nice guy, you'll like him."

"Why is the brain trust suddenly invited to a night out?" Bucky demands. This is a fucking trap. There is no possible way that this isn't a fucking trap.

Natasha rolls her eyes at him. "We're plying them with booze to try and keep them from suing us into the ground for inflicting you on the populace. Now shut up and go change. You're not wearing those pants."

"I'm—" He cuts himself off mid-refusal. There's not a chance, not even a fraction of a percent of one, that Ava would take offense to him not wanting to go. He's told her, on multiple occasions, that he hates getting dragged out to these things. His friends are awful, and they just do this to torture him. He's not inclined to entertain that most weeks, and Ava knows that. "I don't have any other pants aside from—"

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not wearing tux pants to a—"

"The leather ones you keep for long rides."

Bucky stops, and not because Natasha just revealed knowing another secret he hasn't told her. That shit doesn't even phase him anymore. His eyes move down to the blue button-up she's trying to force him into, his lips pursing slightly. The leather pants she's not supposed to know about are worn to hell and back at this point. Heavy weathering, a hole or two at the back of the heels, more than a few deep scratches that'll become holes if he's not overly careful. Not the kind of thing that would usually be suitable for a night out.

That button-up is new, though. Looks expensive, too. Good quality silk. It'll look more natural on him under a jacket. Less like a significant effort and more like something he got roped into. Which is precisely what's happening.

Bucky sighs deeply, looking back up at her in resignation. "I have some ground rules."

"You're allowed to have approximately one."

He looks over at Steve in frustration. The bastard shakes his head with a cackle, a fresh scoop of Puffs halfway to his mouth. "Ooohoho, no. Nah-uh. There's a captain on deck tonight, but it is not me." He stands up, chewing quickly, a big dumb smile on his stupid face. "I'm being a good boy and following her orders."

Natasha knocks on the spot of hardwood directly in front of Bucky obnoxiously. "Name your singular rule. I still have to do my hair; hurry the hell up."

Her sass reminds him that he has to figure out what the fuck he's going to do with his hair. "I'm not dancing, for starters—"

"Great. None of us will hound you about dancing; you have my word. Go get dressed. We leave in an hour, and you'll be really embarrassed if I have to drag your unconscious body through the tower." Her eyebrows raise expectantly as she stands up, looking between him and the shirt. To add insult to injury, she taps her nails along his head on her way out of the kitchen.

Steve doesn't look over from where he's raiding the fridge for another snack. "For what it's worth, she sounded excited about the invitation."

Bucky's eyes squint suspiciously. "You invited her?"

"No, Nat did," he replies far too casually. "I was just in the room when she made the call."

"See, your fuck up here is that now I know—"

"I have information you can try to weasel out of me? Thanks, Buck, I appreciate that, seeing as I'm entirely inept when it comes to interrogation and spycraft—"

"Only for the most part. Was this your push or Nat's?"

"Are you asking to be a pest, or are you asking because you need to know?"

Bucky grinds his teeth. He can say the latter, and Steve will never know the difference. "I don't need to know, but—"

"Then fuck off." He shuts the fridge door with a gentle swing and a bright smile. "I have to go get dressed. So do you." He flicks at the bun resting against the back of Bucky's head on his way out. These fuckers are always touching him, and they don't pull the Canadian routine about it. "Should do something with your hair. It looks like it has blood on it."

It probably does. His last mission was designated complete all of twenty minutes ago, and he definitely bled through some of it. Bucky can't really tell on his end; he's still coming down from the adrenaline rush. Something Natasha used to her advantage, no doubt.

"You fuck off," he grumbles long after Steve is out of earshot.

—

"I'm completely serious."

"No, you're panickin', ya big baby."

"I mean it."

"I'd like to go ahead and remind you that I was there when you purchased most'a your wardrobe. Both times. I think I'd know if y'didn't."

"I can't wear any of that. It's one thing when it's my space—"

"You're allowed to exist in other places, ya dweeb."

"I didn't say I wasn't allowed. Just that...." Ava trails off, her nerves finally catching up to her. The argument had felt like a funny joke when she poked her head through the doorway to start it. Now it's not feeling so funny anymore. Paige is doing that awful, shitty thing where she makes sense. Leaning against the frame and glancing down at the master bedroom's carpet, Ava feels small. "I don't know. The stuff I wear to conferences is too—prim. Most of it's ballroom shit and wouldn't work, anyways. All of my usual go-to's just... It all feels... stupid."

The energy drink chugging champion that is her best friend props herself up on her elbows where she's laid out on her bed. The headband she's wearing has two miniature alien heads poking up from it that wiggle with the motion. "Well, hey there, Alec. Long time no see, ya son of a—"

"Yeah, yeah," Ava waves her hand dismissively. The reminder does knock some of the pity party out of her, at least. There was a time when she made decisions for herself and herself alone. Those were damn good years, and Ava is trying like hell to get back into the mindset. The one she proudly lived in before she let someone talk her into being ashamed of who she is. "Let my freak flag fly, whatever. I still don't have anything to wear." Nothing that doesn't feel crushingly laughable, anyways.

"What about that lace skirt you've got, the one with the swirly patterns? That one's so cute."

Ava frowns. She's not looking to get squished in hosiery tonight, which would be the only way to save herself in something that short. "For dancing?"

"Mmm. That's, ya know, that ain't a bad point. It ain't exactly built for the breeze." Paige tilts her head to the side, making the aliens go wild. Her face pinches like she's brainstorming. Then her eyes go wide with excitement. "Oh! Wear that—the, the thing!"

"Gonna need more to go on." She snaps her fingers as Paige smacks at her own bedspread.

"The wrap dress!"

"You're out of your mind," Ava laughingly insists. Now that she's caught up to her best friend's train of thought, she's almost startled. "That's—first of all, I think it's technically a sun dress—"

"Who gives a shit? Ya look great in it."

"I look—that's beside the point. It... it's not too...?"

"Too...?"

"Shit, I don't know." She folds her arms over her chest and chews her lip for a few seconds. "What do I wear with it?"

"Nothin' but heels." The smirk on Paige's face is devious.

"You know what else isn't built for the breeze? Me. I'm not looking to flash the Avengers tonight, thanks." The words make her instantly think of Bucky, shamefully enough. He's not even going to be there tonight. She's absolutely sure of it. He's told her how much it takes to convince him to go out these days.

The manic pixie rolls her eyes. "Alright. The dress, the heels, and somethin' stringy."

"How about a jacket?" Ava reasons, already turning to go back to Paige's guest room, the one that's been unofficially hers for years.

"Pick one that's sheer, ya chickenshit," she shouts down the hallway behind her.

"That's a lot of sass coming from the woman who can't look America's Sweetheart in the eye!"

"You'll thank me when you don't wake up here!"

Ava gets hit with the mental reminder that a certain sergeant has been threatening to fly her home for over a week. She hip-bumps her unofficial door closed with a huff.

Bucky's not going to show up tonight.

Even if he was, the man's a serial flirt, and she's his—the primary neurosurgeon on his case. Not-flirting through his appointments has been…. She's been trying to think of it as a bedside manner. A very unprofessional bedside manner. The kind she wouldn't have the balls to admit to out loud.

Natasha didn't mention him directly during the invitation call, only his case. All she said was that the whole team was welcome, including the duct rat, Findley. No mention of other attendants. It would have been brought up if he were going to be there; Ava's sure of that.

Natasha did mention getting Paige home on time, which was suspicious. Tomorrow is the engineer's first mission assigned to the Avengers as support, sure, but they don't seem like the type to need a pre-check. Ava's only seen a handful of SHEILD agents listed in the medical reports from Bucky's missions, and he never mentions any of them directly. She's always gotten the impression that assigned agents are an unknown hand in that machine.

If Steve ends up tagging along, she'll have her suspicions about the Russian's intent with this whole thing. She might have an ally in the fight to push her best friend that she didn't know about.

Maybe she'll go to the tower after Paige is home safe. Ava's brought up the idea of switching to night appointments before, and she doubts Bucky would say no to a quick ten minutes on the roof. He might even stay for a while without having the excuse of leaving her to her work.

She could pick up some late-night bagels to bribe him with. Her favorite shop closes early, but they work til midnight sometimes just for the baking process. Ava does the yearly medical work for the owner and his family without charging him. In return, he lets her sneak in after hours for cream cheese and salmon. With that and a quick stop to her office for a handful of lollipops, she's got herself some super soldier bait.

She might not even stop to change back out of the dress. She'll grab the lab coat, though. Bucky looks more at ease whenever she has it on.

—

He wants to leave already.

It's been eighteen seconds since they coraled him through the front door. He's very proud of himself. He didn't think he'd make it to half that before the urge hit.

Bucky looks around the crowded bar with the sourest face he can muster. It's loud, it's cramped, it's loud, he's already hot enough to know he'll be sweating at some point, and it's too fucking loud. The checkpoint out front is a disaster. He's not real clear on what the standards for a bar security chief are, but that pick-up artist with the handheld, battery-powered metal detector out front doesn't fit his definition of competent. Not by a long shot.

The Avengers haven't rolled out with the full roster tonight. Tony, mercifully, is away with Pepper, Barton fucks off to god knows where, and Rhodey's as much of a workaholic as Bucky is. He tries not to think about where Thor goes. That particular can of worms is pretty full. He's still trying to get used to the fact that they've got a Quinjet that can just go to space. Whenever he—they want.

The ones that did come don't give him any shit when he breaks off to do his walk-about. They all figured out pretty early on that it's a sensitive subject. Bruce doesn't even notice him leave half the time. Steve used to do a piss-poor job of inconspicuously following him back when Bucky was primarily non-verbal. Natasha never mentions it.

The building is two stories. There's a halfway decent camera set-up that he can tap into through the wifi. No windows in the bathrooms. The roof access isn't wired with an alarm. All the emergency exits are, though. The owner's room was locked before Bucky got to it, but the staff areas are open to whoever turns a handle. They've got a round of code inspections coming up at the start of next month. They'll fail at least two of them if they don't unblock that rear door.

Sam silently checks in with an offered fist bump once he's back at the table eight minutes later. Bucky doesn't hesitate to reciprocate it. There's already a half glass of whiskey sitting on the table waiting for him. He doesn't hesitate to get his mitts on that, either.

Wyatt and Hannah show up before Ava and Paige do. It's the first time Bucky's been faced with meeting them since Ava offered that one time. She never pushed it after that. He's been meaning to get around to it. But the idea has been making his teeth buzz too much to go through with it.

Hannah is laser-focused on him from the start. She's just as conscious of it as he is, then. He can tell the moment that the realization hits Wyatt. His eyes widen with a flash of concern, his burly frame curling in on itself as if that'll make six feet of muscle look less threatening. It's almost heartwarming that he's worried about looking threatening to Bucky, of all people. The anxiety on the kid's face gets swallowed up by excitement. Seconds later, another wave of anxiety surfaces. It teeters back and forth as Hannah pushes him up to the table through the crowd.

Bucky watched Atlantis the other night after one of his nightmares took away any chance of falling back to sleep. It saved him from having to wake Steve up for a trip to the supply store. He texted Ava about it once he spotted the sun through the small gap in his blackout curtains; she was thrilled. Seeing the baby-faced brain surgeon nervously approach the table makes him understand why she compares him to Milo, not Dr. Sweet.

Bucky's not looking to be the aggressive silent type anymore. At least not when it comes to the people working their asses off for him. He reaches out with his flesh hand, giving a reassuring half-smile to Wyatt. "Good to finally meet you, Combs."

The grin that stretches across the doctor's face looks wide enough to hurt. A stubby hand reaches out across the table for an enthusiastic shake. "It's an honor to meet you, Sergeant Barnes."

"I'll sign that journal Ava's warned me about if you promise to call me Bucky," he bribes, taking his hand back for another sip of whiskey.

"Y'mean it?" He's already headed for his patch-covered messenger bag with a hopeful look on his face. "I can use whatever makes ya comfortable. I'm not gonna make ya sign—"

"Hand it over." He glances over to where Hannah is sitting down across from Bruce. They trade an amicable nod when she makes direct eye contact again. "It's good to meet you, as well, Schuster."

"Barnes." He hears the sound of a boot being kicked under the table and watches Wyatt glare at the side of her head. She gives Bucky a strained smile. He's got a feeling it's usually strained. "Likewise."

Bucky likes her already.

As Ava warned, it doesn't take long for Wyatt to start asking about maps. He's bombarded with questions the moment he hands the journal back, with a fresh, chicken-scratch signature on one of its pages. The kid has a lot of trouble picking one at a time, and Bucky's trying not to shorten his answers out of habit.

He keeps a mental list of the information Wyatt's most interested in. A year ago, he would have done it out of ingrained habit. Tonight it's a deliberate choice. Bucky can get his hands on records the Combs family doesn't know about. The kind they can't make a legal request for because there's no official log of it.

Ava and Paige are the last to arrive. He's too busy trying to give Wyatt more stories when they walk through the door to spot them. Steve is the first to notice their entrance, pausing mid-sentence about a mission the Howlies went on that Bucky barely remembers. Looking away from Wyatt's face, he understands why his best friend froze up.

Good fucking god almighty. She's trying to kill him.

The doctor that haunts Bucky's dreams is walking through the crowded bar in an outfit that should be triggering the tactical analysis in his head. The analysis that, lately, only ends when his mind catches up to the fact that he shouldn't be thinking about being balls-deep in her while trying to make eye contact. It's probably—definitely inappropriate. But something about the thin, light blue fabric of her dress is shorting him the fuck out.

It's low-cut, which is the first strike. The second is the way that split up her right leg only stops when it reaches the top of her thigh. The third—the one that really knocks him flat on his ass—is the way the whole thing is pulled in to show off her hips. The ones he'd have a lot of trouble letting go of if she ever let him put his hands on her to begin with.

He roughly swallows around nothing but air. His eyes shoot up to Ava's face, desperate to stave off his bastard mind latching onto her outfit. The last thing he needs in his head right now is a full-scale plan for laying her out on the table to unwrap that thing like a present. She's smiling at him, genuine surprise shaping most of her expression. God willing, it's about his presence here, not where his eyes were a second ago.

"They let you out of the house now?" she sasses him over the roar of the bar. Her hand folds into a fist and props high on her hip as she stops at the table's edge, her other arm linked with her best friend's.

Bucky is so fucking hopeless for her. "Yes, ma'am. But only if I get enough green stickers that week."

"In that case, thanks for behaving. I didn't think you'd be here tonight." That smile of hers is still bright as the sun. Still aimed at him. Christ, he's never been happier about Natasha ruining his life. "I'm pleasantly surprised around you, for once."

Gimmie half a chance, and I can show you every kind of pleasant surprise there is.

If this were 1943, he'd still have the balls to say it to her. It'd be suicide to say it around his idiot friends, but he was a dumbass who wouldn't have hesitated back then. Not with someone like her.

It's probably a good thing it's not still 1943. "If I make all the surprises annoy you, you'll tell me to stop. I have to keep you on your toes, or you'll get bored."

One of her eyebrows raises at him, entirely unimpressed. It makes him want to hold her hand. "You do understand how cool my job is, right? You're also a literal cyborg I get to poke at whenever I feel like telling you it's medically necessary. What part of that am I supposed to get bored with, sergeant?"

Bucky folds with a shy chuckle, bringing up his glass of whiskey to hide his mouth behind. "You get used to the shiny parts."

"I'm sure he'll let you add more when he busts his ass again," Sam jokes from off to Ava's left. He's staring at Bucky with an overly satisfied grin. It makes him glare over his whiskey while Ava and Paige sit down.

"Sorry we're late," Paige says, her eyes moving to Steve and her cheeks turning slightly pink. "Gettin' through Bronx traffic is always fun."

"Ordered Ryder's usual," Hannah mentions, pointing to a tall glass of ale the waiter dropped off while he wasn't looking. "Didn't know what you were in the mood for."

"Somethin' fizzy." She rhythmically taps her mismatched nails on the table, humming to herself while she glances over the drink menu. "Or maybe somethin' icey."

"I went the margarita route if you wanna go halfsies tonight," Wyatt offers, nudging his frosted glass over to her. Paige perks up and leans over for a sip.

He looks over at Steve, who's watching the interaction with the sappiest smile. It nearly makes his eyes roll. Natasha and Sam sniffed out the captain's big crush a long time ago, but it's the first time Bucky's seeing it for himself.

Neither one of them has learned a goddamn thing. Not in a hundred years.

A much more gentle nail taps right in front of his arm, dragging his eyes back to Ava while she gets herself seated. "What made you decide to come?"

She would hit him with a question that blunt right off the bat. He tries not to notice Sam's silent laughter next to her.

"Heard the egg heads were making an appearance," he decides to be mostly honest with.

The pleased smile on her face takes on a softer edge. She really hadn't been expecting him to show. It makes him all the more glad that he listened to Natasha. "We convinced you?"

You did. "You're surprised? I'm not about to put in the effort for these assholes."

"He only does that for our birthdays," Sam tells her, leaning into her space slyly.

Bucky holds out his hands, mildly insulted. "And bank holidays."

Ava turns her head to offer her hand to Sam with a warm giggle. She looks so fucking good in the low bar light. With her neck muscles stretched like that, Bucky wants to kiss under her jaw just to see her reaction. "I've been hoping we'd meet again under better circumstances. Ava Ryder."

Sam barks a laugh, wrapping his hand around hers. "I'd say watchin' you hand Steve his own ass was great circumstance."

"Well thanks," Steve interjects, flipping him off before going back to drawing on a napkin with Paige.

The comment, and the gesture, gets ignored entirely. "Sam Wilson, but you can call me your favorite Avenger."

Bucky almost rolls his eyes again. Watching Ava's giggles get worse stops the urge.

—

She was wrong.

He came out tonight. To a bar. To spend time with them.

Ava takes another drink of her ale, watching the Winter Soldier over the rim of her glass. Wearing a dress that could unwind from her with a few strategic yanks on a couple pieces of string. And heels that could have paid a month of her first apartment's rent. In a New York bar.

If her parents could see her now, they'd croak.

Bucky is so goddamn attractive in his dark leather jacket that it's un-fucking-real. The bastard looks softer with his hair down like that, and there's chest hair peaking out from that button-up he's left open to a torturous degree. It keeps distracting her every time he turns to say something to Steve. His hand is the only shiny part on display at the moment.

The glory tales from Steve don't do the heartstopping aura justice. The fact that Bucky has had the nerve to lie—to her face no less—and say they're blown out of proportion makes her seethe sitting across from him now. No wonder he was prolific; how the hell could he not be with a face like that and the attitude to back it. Now that he's not in a professional headspace, the latter is coming out in spades. The super serum body is a mouthwatering, climbable bonus.

This is the man that keeps threatening to fly her home.

Ava takes a longer drink.

She hasn't been this in over her head since college. The familiar knee-jerk reaction of bullying him is the only thing that doesn't feel petrifying. Bucky is the last person that would make her feel unsafe, but good god, the man is intimidating. Trying to find something to say to him that isn't a joke is a lot harder than usual, with him looking that good.

Paige tuned out the moment Steve gave her meticulously outlined boxes to doodle in on an unfolded napkin. He's been adding detailed frames to them ever since while the two trade work stories. It makes Ava jealous. Her best friend might be oblivious, but at least she's not the one tongue-tied tonight.

Knocking her knees together under the table, Ava leans forward and tries another round of facing down the sergeant. "Worth the trip so far?"

Way to go, moron. Pressure him, why don't you? Of course he's having a good time; he wouldn't still be sitting here if he—

Bucky smiles at her, calming her nerves without even trying. "Every second." He looks down at the glass in her hand, then back up at her face. "You havin' fun, doc?"

She misses hearing him call her doll. It's starting to feel like maybe it was an accident the handful of times it happened. He hasn't done it in days. "Unlike you, I enjoy human interaction. Plus, the hippie thing makes me partial to loud noises." And sweat. And weed to make the loud noises sound better. And men with long hair and deep voices that would sound—

"I don't mind human interaction," he argues, folding his arms on the table and leaning over with her. "I'm just picky about the people I interact with."

"Awww," Paige coos at her side. "And we made the cut? I'm honored."

"You should be," Steve confirms with a smirk, his eyes never leaving the napkin under his hand. "He's not exaggerating."

"That's unusual for him," Ava jumps on Bucky with. She regrets it right up until he snorts and briefly covers his mouth with his hand. It's a real fuck up on his end; she takes it as an all-clear to do it to him again at her leisure. "The only people I've met with bigger heads are cardiologists."

"That's the second time you've brought them up," Bucky notes. She honestly can't remember the first, but it sounds accurate. They're fun to mock.

"Nice deflection, superstar." His eyes widen a fraction at her teasing, boosting her confidence. "Have you had the displeasure of meeting one? I'm allowed to be mean to them as a neurologist, by the way. Secret doctor pecking order and whatnot."

"If I have, I probably don't want to remember," he deadpans. Steve gives him a dirty look, but it makes Ava snort. The smug look Bucky gives her in return makes her stomach flip. "I wanna hear more about this secret doctor pecking order. How far up that chain are you?"

"I don't know, man. How far up is your brain?"

Bucky's eyes shut in pain, and he smiles. "It's so hard to be proud of your ego when your awful puns surround it."

"You'll manage," she assures in a supportive tone.

A low whistle drags Ava's eyes to one end of the table, where Natasha is getting up. "I'm going dancing. It's up to you losers who's coming."

A majority of the table, including most of Ava's team, moves to follow. She doesn't. Bruce and Hannah don't, continuing their discussion on a medical journal he read that morning. Bucky doesn't leave either.

He watches Ava as Paige leans over to kiss the top of her head. She's pretty sure he watches her all through their short yes, I'll watch your bag check-in. He's still watching her when she looks back at him, slowly circling his glass to make the whiskey inside it swirl.

"Not a fan of dancing?" he finally asks.

"I like dancing," Ava confirms. "I just like picking on you more." The words feel outrageously bold for how innocuous they are. It's the truth, but she feels a little stupid for saying it out loud. Whatever, if it means spending the night out with him, that's fine—

Bucky puts down his glass, a determined set to his posture. "Dance with me."

Her jaw almost drops. She doesn't catch her nervous burst of laughter in time to stop it. "I—what? You? Bucky Barnes, mister touch me and die himself wants to—"

"I let you touch me all the time." The tone he uses for the blatant—

Christ, is she ever in over her head.

She ignores his flirting like a coward, racing to hide behind professionalism as fast as her mouth can get her there. "The funny thing about that is I have your willing participation—"

"You've got my willing participation for this, too." He sounds like he means it, which is the worst part. It makes it impossible to bring herself to tell him no.

She hesitates one last time, primarily out of fear of embarrassing herself. "You're sure you want to dance?"

"With you?" Bucky stands up, allowing her to see the well-worn leather sitting low enough on his hips to turn her into a bigger wreck. "Yeah, doll. I'm sure."

Hannah leans over to slide the bag Paige left behind across the table, closer to her. She doesn't bother to stop talking. Bruce is smiling from ear to ear, stealing glances at her and Bucky. He's doing a terrible job of hiding it.

Standing up on nervous feet, Ava watches Bucky circle the table. He offers up his flesh hand when he approaches her, his signature Brooklyn smirk on his face. "Ready?"

Fuck no. She slides her hand into his, breathing deeply when he squeezes her fingers. "I really hope someone's given you the memo on modern dancing because I have no idea what the hell you people did in the 30s."

"I'm sure you'll help me figure it out." He's sounding more confident with every word, and it's scaring the absolute shit out of her.

It's innocent at the start. Bucky's a perfect gentleman leading her through the crowd. He spins slowly to face her when he finds them a wide enough space, pulling her in close. The pressure of his fingers is barely there when his metallic hand moves to her lower back. Ava brings both her hands up to his chest when he lets go of one of them.

"You'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, right?" she checks again, stretching up as close to him as she can. There's no way he has trouble hearing her over the music, but she doesn't remember that until she's all but hanging off him. It makes her cheeks feel warm.

His flesh hand moves over her hip, resting on it gently. Bucky leans down and turns his head in, getting right up to her ear. He's already starting to guide the direction of her half-hearted movements. "I will. You gonna do the same?"

"I will," she promises. Mirroring his words is the only thing her brain can come up with, given how unfairly good he smells. It's obliterating every train of thought she has.

It is… terrifyingly easy to let herself go in his arms. The movement of her hips gets more involved, following the tempo of the song and the direction of his hand. Hers go up to his shoulders, bringing him in closer a fraction at a time. By the time the song changes, she gives up and lets them wrap around the back of his neck.

Somewhere around the third song, when the bar's DJ is trying to ramp up into a faster energy, she ends up turned away from him. Ava isn't sure how it happened. It could have been his doing; she's not paying all that much attention. All she knows is he's pressed up against her back now, the hand on her hip moving towards her leg incrementally. Her head tilts off to the side as her eyes close, letting the Winter Soldier guide her.

His fingers stop their advance once they reach the top of the gap in her dress, the one that splits up her thigh. She gives him all of thirty seconds to figure out if he's brave enough to go further on his own. Then the ego boost from having Bucky—of all fucking people—trying to make a move on her wins out over her fear.

Ava lays her fingers on top of the hand hesitating on her leg, urging it down.

The first touch of his skin on hers makes them both suck in a breath. She can feel the tension in him against her back. He gets over his nerves faster after that. His hand glides down the length of her thigh, and his fingers curl under the fabric when it comes back up. Not all that far, but the intent is there.

In escalating boldness, she reaches for his metal hand, dragging it to rest at the top of her ribs. His nose comes brushing across her temple at that point, giving her an idea of how close he's keeping himself around her with her eyes closed. One of her hands goes up into his hair, and that's when things really go off the fucking rails.

His thumb moves in a wide arc, dragging across the underside of one of her breasts. Her fingers curl around his hair, and her head rolls in toward him. If she tilts it up, she could brush her nose against his; that's how far into her space he is. And then the hand on her thigh moves in.

The pounding music swallows up the slight sound it pulls from her, but she's willing to bet Bucky heard it. She leans back against him, making him freeze up momentarily. He's already moving again before her mind finally pieces together the why.

He's hard, Ava realizes.

With one hand under her tits and the other getting itself further between her thighs. With her ass pressed back against him. With his towering frame curled all the way around her.

Sergeant James Barnes is hard as a rock. For her.

—

How the hell he hasn't gotten his good arm ripped off yet, Bucky's not quite sure. It feels impossible that she's just... letting him do this.

Spinning her around really fucked him over. He had been behaving pretty well up until then. He'd even managed to hold off on putting his hand as far down her back as that fucking dress allows for. But then he'd been dumb enough to turn her, and her head had relaxed off to the side, and god, it took every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss the length of her neck.

Now she's leaning back against him, fully aware of how wound up he is, and he can't figure out where to stop. She isn't slowing down any part of his stumbling. There's no new tension in her now that she's in the know about the current state of his cock. Her hips are still fucking moving, and now they're moving against him.

She's going to kill him tonight, probably right out here on this dancefloor. He just hasn't figured out if it's going to be murder or manslaughter.

He lets his left hand get bolder, trying to test the waters one last time before he lets his right one go any further. He moves it up, his thumb brushing over her nipple. He hears her pull in a shaking breath while it skims back down the side. She doesn't stop him, making him want to bite at her neck all over again.

With no signs of her looking for an out, and not one shred of critical thinking or self-control left in his head, Bucky slides his hand further up the inside of her thigh. Her fingers tighten in his hair, nearly pulling on it at this point. All he has to do is hike up his thumb, and he'll get more information than he's probably ready to have. She could tell him to drop to his knees right here; he's mildly certain he'd do it.

That dress is so goddamn thin. There's no weight to it at all. He can't spot the outline of anything, but he knows from how high her tits are sitting that she's got a bra on, at least. Another inch or two up with his thumb, and he'll be able to tell for himself if she came out tonight with underwear on. He's not entirely out of the goddamn loop; he knows skipping it is a much more common practice nowadays.

Bucky's almost hoping his favorite hippie is the type. He's spent a lot of time fantasizing about ways to get her out of them. That doesn't mean he's not going to fucking lose it if his fingers don't find a strip of fabric between her legs.

The flash of a new fantasy hits him, one of Ava letting him pin her to the alley wall out back with his head between her legs. If he takes her around the corner, he won't have to stop when the kitchen staff come out for a smoke break. If she does have underwear on, he can leave it in her mouth to keep her quiet. Or reach up to make her bite down on his fingers. With the serum and her height, it'd work like a dream.

The curiosity becomes a burning need, driving his hand all the way up. When he first touches her, it's not with his thumb, and it's not a gentle brush. He pushes his middle and index finger along the length of her lips, coming into contact with lace that's wet.

"Fuck." The word is choked when it tumbles out of him. He's coated his hand to the thought of her so many times over by now. And here she is, pushing herself up against him and just as worked up about it.

Her hand grips his arm tight enough to bruise in reaction. She doesn't push him away. God fucking help him, she doesn't stop moving either. Still, there's something about her body language that's not sitting right in his gut. She's not pushing him away. But she's not pulling him along anymore.

That's not always a stop sign. Bucky knows that. Some people like leaving the significant steps in the hands of their chosen partner. She's silently urged him to keep going a few times already. Assuming she wants that to continue isn't out of the question. But he's not the kind of man who's comfortable with that leap. Not anymore.

He moves his hand down an inch, leaving it between her legs. Not on top of the lace he wants to bite at. If she's interested, she'll put it back. Simple as that.

Bucky waits, holding her close with his metal arm around her ribs and his nose pressed into her hair while they dance. She's hesitating now, which has him convinced he made the right call. He's not self-wallowing enough to take it as a rejection. It's not like he'd been planning for this to go anywhere near as far as it did to begin with.

Her hand pulls at his hair in a way that feels conflicted. She tilts her head up, her eyes finally opening to look at him. Yeah, there it is. Right there in her eyes. It's finally catching up to her.

"I..." she tries, her mouth opening and closing a few times. "We can...."

"We can keep going," he finishes for her, not backing off from his hold on her. "We absolutely can. Or we can head to the bar and watch them make something with a cherry on it. I'm more than comfortable with both."

He watches her chew over the offered out, her eyebrows pulling in. He doesn't push her; he's not looking to make the call for her. If she wants him to get her off right here on this dancefloor, he's pretty damn sure he'd be willing at this point, even with the threat of criminal charges. He's also ready to let go and spend the rest of the night doing something that doesn't make her look torn. Even if it means ending it early.

"We should probably go to the bar." Probably. She doesn't sound happy about it, meaning it's fueled by her professionalism. He understands why she has the line. He respects the shit out of it.

"We probably should," he agrees. He doesn't move his hands. She hasn't moved hers.

Her eyes move down to his mouth, and fuck does that do a number on his impulse control. He hopes she doesn't feel how it makes his cock jump. Ava Ryder wants to kiss him. It feels odd to celebrate that, considering where his fingers were a minute ago, but fuck. The girl of his dreams wants to kiss him.

"Let's go to the bar." The frustration in her voice almost makes him laugh. It definitely makes him smile as he turns his metal hand over to link with hers.

"You drink anything other than ale, doll?" He lets his fingers brush over the skin of her thigh reassuringly as he pulls it back out from under her dress. She looks so mad at the world, her face scrunching under her glasses. He wants to kiss her more than he's ever wanted anything in his life.

Ava takes a deep breath that she lets out with a huff. It looks like it cools off some of the annoyance. "My answer depends on how much of a narc you are, g-man."

He puts his arm around her shoulder, dragging her in close to his side. His friends will hand him his ass over this for a month, but he's not about to let her feel rejected. He's trying to respect a boundary, not ward her off. "Lucky for you, this g-man has medical strains growing in his room at the tower."

"There's no fucking way. You're telling me the Winter Soldier grows weed?"

"Are you tellin' me you buy yours? Chump."

She snorts hard enough to feel the need to cover her mouth. It makes Bucky feel damn good being able to make her laugh again that fast. "I can't believe I'm being ridiculed about the source of my pot by a senior citizen."

He holds back on reminding her that she was about to let a senior citizen stick his hand down her panties. "Has it convinced you to give up the inaccurate jokes about my job?"

"Inaccurate, he says! Don't you have a literal badge you can shove in people's faces?" Ava doesn't lean against the bar when they reach it. She stays pressed up against him while he leans on it, distracting the hell out of him. He looks down the line of people, searching for a bartender to give himself a second to refocus. "I think that's a pretty clear-cut definition of a fed."

"I think you're trying to find out if I've got a pair of cuffs handy." This is the other problem presented with her letting him go that far; it burned through what little filter he has. Now that he knows she's interested and not just humoring him, he's fucked. Hearing his own words still makes him wish he'd shut his damn mouth.

He hears her laugh in surprise again, but he's not brave enough to look at her yet. There's a momentary lull filled with the sounds of rowdy New Yorkers kicking off their weekend. Then he feels her head lean against his arm. "Something tells me you could improvise without them."

It's manslaughter. She's trying for manslaughter. By god, she's going to accomplish it if she says some shit like that again.

"I can improvise whenever you need me to." He finally looks back at her, catching her ogling his chest. Again. Her cheeks are a few shades darker. It's good to know he's not the only one reeling. "You should answer my question first, though. Unless you're looking to put in the order."

Her eyes finally flick up to his, and her smile turns shy before she looks away. "Surprise me. I burn more than drown. I'm sure you can think of a fun option to entertain me with."

Bucky should have guessed she'd give him a run for every cent he earned back when he still had his mojo. It feels like he's trying not to trip over himself while she's still getting warmed up. "One entertainment, comin' right up."

She gives him a look, doing a lousy job of holding back her amusement. "You don't get to complain about my puns if you're going to tell dad jokes like that."

"You're just jealous that mine are better." He finally flags down a bartender over her shoulder, throwing out an order for two Mai Tais. The only other cocktail he can think of off the top of his head is a Sex on the Beach, and he sure as shit doesn't have the balls to order that in front of her at the moment. A Moscow Mule is not a cocktail in his eyes. It's also not the kind of inappropriate he's looking for.

Ava's finger hooks into his front pocket, threatening to ruin every effort he's made toward getting his cock to calm the fuck down. "Some of your jokes are pretty great; I'll give you that. The dry ones make my day."

It feels backwards—and mildly alarming—to hesitate to brush her hair behind her ear for a moment. A few minutes ago, he'd been ready to go down on her in front of a room full of people. Now he's trying to find the nerve to touch her at all. Doing so gets easier when her eyes slip closed at the feeling of his fingertip moving down the side of her head.

"Seeing you makes my day," he murmurs, not caring about letting his mouth run. It feels less intimidating in the wake of her compliment. God knows it's going to sit in his head. Probably forever. The fact that she probably can't hear it over the music certainly doesn't hurt.

Her eyes open back up slowly, with her smile taking on a wicked edge. "You feel like showing me your stash, old man?"

—

They haven't talked about it.

It's been less than an hour since they stopped dancing. In under sixty minutes, Bucky managed to get them a drink and all the way through Manhattan to the Avengers Tower. On a Friday, no less.

No wonder they threaten to revoke his license. Ava thought she was a speed freak behind the wheel. Now that she's got firsthand experience as his rear passenger, Bucky being allowed to have a motorcycle makes her question SHIELD more than ever.

He let her go up to the roof without him. He made it sound like he was doing her a favor by not making her go out of her way just to raid his stash with him. She's guessing it's got more to do with not being down for a surprise tour of his space. It's not as if she's going to fault him for it.

The idea that she's actually going to let him fly her home after this is already hitting her nerves. If that's throwing her off, she has no clue where she's going to find the will to bring up the subject of—this. Tonight. What happened.

How far she was about to let it go.

He smells too good. She's decided to blame it on that, at least in her head. Mainly to make herself feel better about crossing that many ethical boundaries. It's easier than accepting that she was about to give a patient the go-ahead to finger her in the middle of a bar. Without so much as a word about it beforehand.

Ava pushes her hands under her glasses to hold her face, resisting the urge to scrub at it. She doesn't want to fuck up her makeup. Not while she still has to face Bucky. How stupid—and then she doubled down—god, now they're here, and he's getting weed—

"I was starting to think I'd never get you up here, doll."

The way his voice quells her anxious mind without any effort at all ties her stomach in a different kind of knot. She lowers her hands into her lap, giving him a half-smile. "I'd like to remind you that I'm the one who offered initially. And again tonight."

Bucky waves his free hand dismissively, his flesh one cradling a bag. "Semantics." He dumps it onto the wicker table she picked out herself. She hears glass hit metal, the sound muffled by the black cloth of the bag. "I didn't know if you were a bowl or a joint kinda gal. Figured I'd come prepared since I'm dealing with a degenerate commie."

"Steve was right about your manners," Ava insists, reaching out to open it with greedy fingers. She kicks her heels off under the table, getting distracted by the sight of him shaking his leather jacket off his shoulders. The man's tall enough to have to duck under the makeshift canopy built to account for Wyatt's height. "Tell me how many words you know for pot while I judge your choices."

"Are you forgetting they took me out for walks every few years?" Bucky walks around to her side and puts his jacket over her shoulders, surprising her. She looks up at him with a shy smile, momentarily forgetting the promise of weed picked out by a super soldier. He's such a gentleman that it's frankly obnoxious. One of his eyebrows raises at her. "Those walks included the 60s, young lady. I probably know more than you do."

"What do you remember about the 60s?" she goads as he sits down next to her.

"Plenty." Bucky props his arm up on the back of the couch, leaning into her space. She's grateful for it. Even with his jacket around her, it's freezing up here. The added warmth isn't the only reason she's grateful for it. "Personally, though, I think you would have had a better time in the 70s." He tilts his head back and forth a few times. "At least the parts of it I fucked around in."

The mental image of the Winter Soldier undercover in some sleazy disco hits her like a ton of bricks. It feels wildly inappropriate, even with him talking about it that openly. All the fantasies she has of Bucky do. Especially the ones she uses to get herself off lately.

"I'm going to take your word for it," she murmurs. There's so much potential there to poke at him. He's offering up the bait on his end. Hell, there's still the list of weed names to dig for. But she can't get her mind to latch onto any of it with him this close.

He nudges his chin in the direction of her hands, which are still hovering in his little heap of paraphernalia. "You should start us up so I can get you home at a reasonable hour. I don't know how fast you like to—smoke."

It's astounding how good he is at riding the line between being a gentleman and a terror.

Ava looks back down at her hands with a smile. "That depends on the accuracy of your warning about this couch-locking me. Technically I'm off tomorrow, so I'm not about to say no."

"Do you smoke medicinal strains?"

"On occasion. I started for anxiety, oddly enough. Then I noticed it helped with my mood overall." She shrugs, setting aside his box of hemp papers. There's a heavy-looking grinder and two different pipes further in. One of them's a goddamn steamroller. He sticks with quality from what she can see so far. "I feel like there's a bong that was held back from this collection."

"There's a lot that was held back. I'm not gonna parade all my ill-gotten goods through the tower." His pauses while she gets the last of it emptied out." You gonna show me how it's done or put me to the test?"

"Definitely the latter." She turns her head to smile at him innocently, pushing her glasses up her nose. It makes his lips twitch. "I don't see anything to assist rolling. Does that mean you're confident enough to show me your handiwork?"

Bucky scoffs, his expression becoming entirely unimpressed. He almost looks offended, leaning over to grab the papers and the grinder. "You're telling me you people need tools these days? After all the work I put into teaching Captain America how to do it properly?"

Ava's brows shoot up in shock. "You're fucking kidding. I figured the weed was a new development—"

"Nah, I've been smoking since my first job." He's not watching his hands much as he lays out the foundation of his work. He's primarily watching her. "Worked for a guy that owed a corner store. He had family that ran a not-so-secret farm." He turns the grinder lid enough to loosen it, then flicks it to spin it the rest of the way off with a cocky grin. "I was an outstanding employee. So was Steve once I got him hired."

"America's Sweetest Stoners," Ava coos, making him chuckle. He's not stingy about what he's rolling for them. It makes her wonder how many plants he's got set up. "Do the two of you still smoke together?"

"He doesn't bother much. Takes a lot to build up any kind of buzz with our systems, so he looks at it the same way he does drinking at this point. He still shows up whenever Banner drops off some new hybrid monstrosity for me to try." Bucky glances over at her quickly, his fingers never stopping their work. "This is from one of the normal plants, don't worry. I won't start you off that far in the deep end."

Ava shrugs. Banner's main lab is here in the tower, so there's no chance the process isn't documented. JARVIS wouldn't let her use anything that could do her actual harm. "You can if you want, but you're responsible for explaining to Tony why I'm passed out on his roof."

He gives her the most insulted look. "I wouldn't leave you up on the roof. I'd be enough of a gentleman to carry you inside."

He's ruining her life. There's no way she's going to be able to walk away from tonight without being completely wrapped around his finger. It makes her smile at him like a hopeless fucking moron. "I believe you."

Bucky brings the most well-balanced joint she's ever seen up to his mouth, licking it closed in one smooth stroke. His eyes never leave hers. It makes her swallow. The fucker smirks at her and twirls the joint between his fingers, holding it out for her inspection.

"Well?" he prompts, watching her intently as she plucks it from his hand. He's preening. Waiting for his praise.

Goddamn him, she's going to have to give it to him. The joint is so perfectly rolled it's mesmerizing. Even distribution, not pulled overly tight, and meticulously sealed. She can't remember the last time she managed to do a job half that good. Bowls have always been her go-to. It's clear that this is his.

Ava giggles at the absurdity of it all. It feels surreal to be a step away from lighting up with a cyborg PoW she first read about in primary school. "You're such a dork. Shut up and hand over the lighter before your head explodes from being over-inflated."

"Now I know I did a damn good job by today's standards." For the second time that night, she gets the overwhelming urge to kiss Bucky as he reaches for the lighter. She props the joint between her lips to distract herself and lets him light it for her when he silently offers. The flame does stunning things to the color of his eyes in the dark. "You only tell me to shut up when you're really impressed with me."

She doesn't miss that he waited until she started inhaling to make the point. It makes her roll her eyes in exasperation. Ava can tell from the first drag that his shit is going to hit harder than her usual. She turns her head to blow it away from his face, handing back the joint. He tucks it between his fingers and brings it up to his mouth in one smooth motion.

"Now look who's outright lying. I tell you to shut up for various reasons." The muscles in his neck look unfairly good when he turns to exhale. It makes her want to run her tongue up his throat. She looks back up at his face. Everything below his chin is hazardous to her health at the moment. "I don't remember any of them being because I was impressed until now."

His eyes flick back to hers, then down to her mouth as he smiles. His hand was up her dress. It was between her legs only an hour ago. And yet watching him stare at her mouth still feels obscene. "You've got a real funny way of stroking my ego, doll."

"I get the feeling you enjoy it," Ava counters, snatching the joint from his fingers. "I wouldn't do it otherwise. You're always welcome to suggest an alternative."

"No, thanks. I'm a pretty big fan of what you do to me."

Damn. Him.

Yes, the question was a check-in. Yes, she was trying to get a read on how far he wants this to go. Then he had to go and double down without hesitation. She knows by now what door he's trying to invite her through.

Ava is so not brave enough for this conversation. It's not—it's complicated. She really shouldn't be working on his case if they're going to go down this road, at least not as his primary surgeon. She'll have to pass it on to Hannah and have a few very embarrassing conversations with a handful of people. Ones that involve fessing up to wanting to fuck Bucky Barnes.

She's not saying no. But she's not brave enough to say yes. At least not tonight, up here on the roof.

Ava leans back against the couch, feeling his arm curl in around her shoulders. "Good. Let me know if that changes."

—

u dont get to yell at me for the edging, i warned u that im gonna leave an * on smut chapters. anything less than Full Fuckin aint gettin the badge 😤 i have a Standard to uphold in this house of sin

(tho if anyone feels there shoulda been a warning tag for smthing you can always lemme know bb 💞)

also ill never be able to properly articulate how much i love writing cranky old fart bucko. heartstopper is stupid fun, feral trauma man keeps me on my toes, but stick-shaking geezer mode??? mr. “kids these days with their MEMES” himself??? beautiful. fantastic. superb. his final form, truly 🤌 i yearn to write more of it

anyways there are writers on the internet that can make their slow burn wholesome. in all my years on this space rock of ours, ive never been one of them

even if i do write the longfic of the sunshine dweebs steve and paige, that probably wont be all that wholesome of a slow burn either ajdhdskjfdjsjf. they ARE my tooth rotting fluff ship tho. mmm okay so maybe paige is a tragedy in disguise but its ME so thats expected 😌 the babes that like their romance extra sappy and cutesy take a lotta shit and deserve a Safe Space and steve rogers fits that bill, imho

bucky is for the babes that like to verbally get their hair pulled before hearing ily 🥰

the good news is, i get a few more chapters in this fic to torture you with before i let bucko and ava do the Big Sin (not murder, the other one. no, not hand holding, the other other one) 😌💖💞

also PieAnnamay's comment reminded me that i never linked my fav buckaroo fic, safe with me!!! for anyone else that hasnt stumbled upon bitsandbobsandstuff, i cant recommend them enough. i HIGHLY encourage you to go read through all their works while you’re waiting for updates on this, the bucky and steve fics are 😫🤌 perfection (i promise when i finally have a day to really do tumblr stuff, ill make a list of my fav fics/writers in my pinned post. i promise i will try to get to it Soon, i still havent even caught up on chapter posts there asldhfsadf)

❤️ https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798047/chapters/31721565

#chapter update #bro why are these such a pain in the ass to make #no for real how the FUCK did the formatting of this website get worse while i was away #like H O W #not to mention the fact that i STILL have to go grab raw html from ao3 just to get this shit to copy correctly #its been over a decade #90% of the user base of this website is fandom with active writers #w h y is that st i l l a thiNG

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