#so i’m trying to sketch something consistently just to see where it takes me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sarahowritesostucky · 8 months ago

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📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 5297

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

A.N. I will no longer be going to the trouble of posting extensive warnings, cautions, "Minors DNI", "smut below the break", or extra trigger warning outside of the story tags etc., like I used to. Because the staff troll has targeted my account and held it to standards that virtually no other explicit fanfiction authors are consistently held to or follow on this platform, I will now only be tagging major themes above the story summary, and other than that, the only warnings you'll see from me are the "mandatory" (🙄what a joke) community labels: mature. Sorry, but I'm not going to bend over backwards to please a bunch of antis and an illiberal, vindictive child who works at Tumblr with zero accountability for their abuse of their position. Troll: grow the hell up, and PLEASE for the love of God: never go into politics.

So here is my new sign I'm so excited to introduce!🥳Feel free to use it - no need to give credit. As Mr. Mackie likes to say to the nitwits: "Baby I'm a grownup."

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 6: Inflation Therapy

Previously:

"It’s going to be okay, Buck. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, voice dull. “I know.”

It’s not the tantrum Steve was expecting, but somehow it feels just as bad. Because rather than reacting, Bucky’s just withdrawing. Steve watches him pick at his meal for another half an hour. With some gentle encouragement he’s able to get the kid to eat the majority of his protein, but he’s obviously getting no enjoyment from the food, his mind a mile away as he chews mechanically. It’s depressing. Steve goes into bossy alpha mode to try and give him some direction, make him feel a little more secure. He tries to show Bucky that he does have an alpha who cares about him, however temporary it may be.

“Throw your trash away, bub. Put your tray over there. Good job. C’mon now, let’s go do an activity. I’m leading art tonight. You want to give that a go?”

Bucky seems docile enough, following Steve into the art room and sitting on the carpeted floor with one of the lap desks for drawing circle. A few other patients trickle in, until they’re a group of ten. Steve hands out paper and cups of colored pencils, and takes up a spot on the carpet. He tries not to be obviously over-focused on Bucky, figuring that the kid needs his space to process the news about his parents relinquishing custody. “Okay everybody," Steve greets the group. "How are we doing?”

He gets friendly answers from the other patients, then guides them through a few warm up exercises. They do some rapid-fire sketch associations, where Steve throws out words like “recreation” and “comfortable,” and “dread,” and everybody has to sketch the first thing they think of in ninety seconds.

Then Steve tells the group they’re going to be doing a “Now and Then” project. He asks them to draw a picture of how they see themselves and their lives in the present, and gives them twenty minutes to work without scrutiny. “Try to pick one word or phrase to focus on. You can draw anything you like, to express it,” he tells them. “Something literal, or something abstract. Anything that you feel depicts your current emotions, state of being, how things are going for you in the world or simply in your head. Anything goes. Get as far with it as you can, but don’t feel like you have to rush with coloring it in or anything, if you’re trying to make a masterpiece.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly at his own drawing board. “You can always add details later if you’re as nitpicky about your art as me.”

“We can draw anything?” one boy in the circle asks. He’s not Steve’s patient but Steve knows his name, knows he’s there for treatment following a miscarriage. Steve nods and gives him a gentle look. “Yeah, Daniel. That’s right. Anything goes.” Across the circle, Bucky glances up and meets his eyes. Steve smiles sadly. “If anybody needs to draw violence or something that depicts self harm, this is a safe space to do that. You won’t get put on protocol for it, as long as you’re willing to join in the discussion portion and explain your drawing.”

Bucky and one other boy look like they’re relieved to hear that, and Steve gives them both encouraging looks before turning his attention to the sheet of paper he’s got on his own lap desk. He’s always been good with a pencil—had even considered going down the art-therapy track, back when he was in college. The only reason he hadn't wound up pursuing it was because he didn’t want to turn his passion into something he had to do for a job. But he still loves leading art sessions for the omegas on-ward. Figuring that powerless is a pretty good focus word for his 'Now' drawing, Steve picks up a mustard yellow pencil and begins to sketch.

“Okay pencils down.”

Twenty minutes later, everybody takes turns showing what they’ve drawn. Unsurprisingly, five of the boys have drawn something literal from their current stay on-ward. Two others have pictures of their families. One boy has chosen a forest scene to depict his feelings of uncertainty about an upcoming heat, and Daniel talks about his violet-hued sketch regarding his feelings over the recent miscarriage. Bucky is the last to volunteer to talk about his piece, and in fact Steve has to prompt him twice before he’ll turn his lap desk around to face the circle.

He’s drawn a person—presumably himself—in thick, brown lines. The person is sitting and hugging their knees to their chest, contained in a tiny space like a box. It’s a scratchy drawing but rather well-done, and the instant feeling Steve gets from it is isolation. Outside the box, it’s bright and colorful with a lot going on, but inside the box it’s muted and still, with heavy olive and brown lines. “What does this represent for you, Bucky?” Steve asks, forcing himself to do his job rather than crawl across the carpet and wrap Bucky in his arms the way he really wants to. “Hm? To me it feels rather lonely, looks isolated.”

Bucky shrugs, not looking up. “I guess.”

Steve asks if anybody has positive comments for Bucky’s piece. Daniel ventures, “... The lines get messier on the dark side. On the bright side, they’re all neat and specific, but then they get kind of scratchy on the other part.”

Steve hums, glad to at least have a couple people willing to participate in art tonight. Usually patients just sit around grunting and rolling their eyes at it. “Good point. I see what you mean. What do you think that technique could communicate?”

Daniel hesitantly meets Bucky’s eyes from across the circle before saying, “Um. Like … it’s more chaotic, on the scratchy side.”

“Yeah. Kind of gives it a distressed feeling, doesn’t it?” Steve looks at Bucky and gently prods, “Buck? Why do you think you chose those colors?” He gets nothing from Bucky besides a mumbled, “Dunno,” and forces himself not to push him on it. He talks to the group as a whole about colors and what they can represent. “Most people know that darker colors can indicate a sense of foreboding or depression,” he says. “But lighter colors aren’t always ‘happy’ per se. Take mine, for example.” Steve shows the group his drawing of a bear sitting on the side of a road with cars. “You’d think this should be in greens and blues, yeah? A nature scene. But I only used taupes and yellows and a little brown and olive. I think it looks kind of sallow, gives it a feeling of melancholy.”

“Why’d you draw a bear?” Daniel asks.

“Well, I’ve been feeling sad this evening. Kind of helpless, you know?” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky’s head lift up a little. “And I remember seeing this clip once on Facebook or something. A bear that’d been separated from its cubs across a busy highway. And it just seemed so sad.” He shrugs, feeling silly but knowing that he needs to be open and honest if he’s going to expect the same from his patients. “So that’s what I drew. That feeling of powerlessness that the video made me feel.”

“Why do you feel powerless?” Daniel asks.

This time, Steve does let his eyes slip over to Bucky—who is looking at him, but who quickly flicks his eyes away. “Because I’m worried about somebody I care about,” Steve says. “And I’m not sure I can help them the way they need. I’m not sure how much they’ll let me help.”

Bucky’s lips part, and for a second Steve really thinks he’s going to reply to that, but then he clams up again and looks down at his drawing board, not saying a thing. Steve swallows down his disappointment. “Okay guys, now we’re going to do a second piece, and I want everybody to try and make this one as literal as you can. Let’s all draw a depiction of what we’d like our lives to be in the future. You can draw something you’d like to have happen tomorrow, or something you dream of happening in a year, or ten years, even how you picture the perfect life when you’re old and grey. Really dig deep and think about what you want your life to be like, in a perfect world. It doesn’t necessarily have to be realistic, just so long as it represents what would make you happy. Kay?”

He watches as everybody gets new paper and starts drawing. Bucky, he notes, stares at his paper for a long few minutes before he ever picks up a pencil. He looks lost.

Steve gives them thirty minutes for their second drawings. When time’s up and everybody discusses what they came up with, Bucky has drawn a beach scene. It has a little blue bungalow in the background and a family on the sand. There’s an umbrella and a person lying on a beach towel whom Steve can tell is supposed to be Bucky. He’s surprised though, because that person is also visibly pregnant, and there’s a little kid right next to him, wearing water wings and building a sandcastle. There’s a dog next to the kid, and another person in the picture sitting in a beach chair who looks suspiciously like Steve, but no way in hell is Steve going to point that out. The Steve-person is blond, and Steve knows for a fact that Bucky’s family all have dark hair.

“Buck,” he prompts. “You drew yourself at the beach?” Bucky just shrugs, and Steve tries to draw more out of him. “... Is that one of your favorite places?” he asks.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I’ve never been to the beach. But growing up, everybody else’s families would always go somewhere in the summer. Up to the Hamptons or down to Jersey, you know? Stay at a beach house, eat crabs, go to the boardwalk and get saltwater taffy and shit, ride the rides. It always seemed nice. Like something real families did.” His lips twist ruefully as he traces his finger from the lines of the pinwheel beach umbrella, over to the black and white dog that he drew. “... And I never had a dog. I like dogs.”

Jesus, God, Steve wants to kidnap this kid and take care of him forever. “Is the person on the beach towel you?” he asks gently. Bucky shrugs again, but then he nods. Steve nods too. “It looks like you’re pregnant in the picture. Is that what you were imagining when you drew it?” Bucky doesn’t say anything, and Steve feels absolutely pained, trying to force answers out of him like this. Across the circle, Daniel has made a little whimper and put his hands on his stomach, and Steve knows it’s time to abandon that point. “Okay,” he says quietly, moving past that little detail. “Um, what about the other people in your drawing?” he asks instead. “What part do they play?”

Bucky looks down self consciously at the paper. “They’re not real,” he mutters. “I don’t have anything right now. And I don’t even know if I want kids, but … I dunno. I drew it with a baby, and an alpha. Cause maybe that’d be nice, even though I don’t think it’s ever gonna happen.”

“Why couldn’t that happen?”

Bucky’s eyes flick up to him, reproachful. “Nobody wants me,” he says. “I just don’t see the point.”

Steve has to swallow past the horrible lump that’s formed in his throat. “Having a family of your own is a totally realistic goal, Bucky. Having children and a partner? Going to the beach with your family? Those are great things to imagine for the future.”

“I don’t have a family,” he says dully.

Steve is about to address that, but before he can, Daniel bursts out into tears and starts ripping up his paper, upset about babies and the pregnancy he miscarried a few weeks ago. Steve has to put all his effort into calming him down and escorting him down the hall to the soft room so that he can calm down. And by the time he returns to the art room, Bucky has left.

Steve sticks around for an hour afterwards, making sure nothing spirals out of control. He was prepared to spend the night on-ward if he had to, but Bucky’s behavior remains rather tame. He wets himself rather abruptly after art therapy, and Steve helps him get changed with no issues. Bucky tells Steve that he’d like to be alone, and Steve can’t force him to talk if he’s not ready. So he just watches helplessly as Bucky retreats to the soft room and curls up in the same corner where Steve found him that morning, face buried in a pheromone-treated plushie.

Steve has a talk with the overnight orderly on duty, making sure that the beta man knows to keep an eye on Daniel and on Bucky. Then he clocks out and heads home, feeling like the most useless support alpha to ever exist.

The next day, he arrives on ward to find Bucky in an unresponsive state, and the soft room having been cleared out to accommodate him.

“Moved everybody else over to the Phys-ed room,” the on-duty orderly mutters with a grimace, as they both stand in the doorway watching Bucky’s behavior. “He doesn’t answer when we talk to him. And he’s tried to bite when we go to grab 'im.”

“How long has he been like this?” Steve asks, concerned.

The beta man shakes his head. “He seemed normal when he woke up. He didn’t talk, but he wasn’t like this. We let them wander around for their AM free time, and then when I came to move everybody to breakfast, he was rocking. He won’t even look at me. Acts like he doesn’t even hear.”

In the padded far corner of the room, Bucky is sitting huddled over one of the foam rocker forms, naked, his knees planted to either side of the form and his thighs gripping it hard in stress. He’s shed everything from his body, including his diaper, and has his head resting on the front piece, his eyes staring sightlessly to the side. His thumb is in his mouth and he’s sucking it while he rocks compulsively. Steve nods grimly at the sight. “He can hear.”

The orderly looks dubiously from Bucky to Steve, and then back. “Um ... are you sure about that?”

Steve inhales deeply. “Yeah. This is a stress reaction to some traumatic news he got yesterday.”

“Oh.”

Steve goes over to kneel beside the rocker to try and get Bucky to respond to him. But when he has no success, he goes back to tell the orderly to watch the room for a minute while Steve consults his boss.

“I think he needs a course of hormones,” he tells Christina, standing in the doorway to her office because he’s too antsy to even sit down for a proper conversation. “Will you sign off on it?”

Christina nods. “Of course. What method of delivery?”

My dick, Steve thinks, though of course he’d never say that. He’s just frustrated is all. He just wants to make all of Bucky’s pain go away. “Inflation session,” he suggests, receiving a nod from Raynor. “We’ll do sense dep. after, hit him with some ASMR, some tactile stim.”

“Sounds about right.”

Steve turns to leave.

“Rogers?”

He looks back over his shoulder to see Raynor staring him dead in the eye, and gets an uneasy feeling. “What?”

“Once he’s out of this episode, I’m telling the doc to go ahead. We’re castrating him.”

Steve’s heart sinks. “Christina, please, no.”

“We should’ve done it a long time ago and you know it. The only reason we didn’t was the parents, and they’re not in the picture anymore. Steve—don’t look at me like that, Rogers. You agreed when the recommendation came down. It’s what’s best.”

Steve looks down at his feet to avoid glaring at the woman who is directly responsible for his employment. She’s not wrong, which is the worst part. Bucky’s so unbalanced, he should’ve had a therapeutic castration years ago, but his parents have always refused and Bucky’s been none the wiser. Quietly, Steve grits out, “He can’t even take the news of his folks giving him up, how do you imagine the conversation about his nuts being chopped off is going to go?” It’s snarky and unprofessional for him to talk that way to his boss, but he’s emotional.

Miraculously, Christina doesn’t call him out on it. “Not well, I imagine,” she drawls. “But what has ever gone well with this kid? After today, I want you to think about your long term care recommendations for him.”

Steve suppresses a growl. “Long term?” he repeats, and she nods solemnly. He feels dread fill his gut at the look that’s on her face. “We can keep him on ward,” he insists, hating how much it sounds like a plea. “Extended stay, and then maybe—”

“He’s not improving here. It’s been three years. He’s nineteen now. We need to think about his future. He’s in no shape for independent living, and you know it,” she says.

Steve huffs, knowing where this is going. “His family dumped him, Christina. He’s got no one. What do you expect me to do?”

“Long term care recommendation, on my desk by the end of the week.”

Steve grits his teeth, knowing there are only a couple of options there. Bucky can either be institutionalized, or sent to a group home, neither of which is promising. Steve knows Bucky, goddammit. He … he cares about him. And he knows that that’s not what Bucky needs. Bucky just needs someone to ...

To love him.

“What if I found him an alpha?” he asks, ignoring his better judgment. “Somebody who was a good fit, who could take him on?”

“By the end of the week?” Christina looks dubious, and rightfully so. She sighs at him, exasperated. “Rogers, you and I both know that nobody is gonna—”

“Just say that I did,” Steve snaps. “Would you approve it?”

Maybe she can tell what he’s thinking, or maybe she just thinks Steve’s venting and throwing out hopeless ideas. Either way, Christina nods reluctantly, her lips pressed thinly together. “Sure,” she says, obviously not believing that Steve can find someone to take Bucky on in such a capacity by the week’s end. “If you found someone who was actually suitable, I’d sign off on it.”

Steve isn’t even sure why he’s posing impossible hypotheticals, but Raynor’s agreement makes him feel relieved anyway. “I’ll need the bathroom isolated for our session,” he tells her, in lieu of a response. “And then the soft room for the rest of the afternoon.”

Christina grunts and waves him out of the office. “You got it. Now go on, get outta here.”

Steve goes.

“Buck? Hey. Hey Honey.” Steve approaches Bucky like he would a wild animal, wary of the possibility of him lashing out. Not that Steve has to worry about being physically overpowered or anything like that, but even he can take a surprise fist to the face, and he’d rather not have a bloodied nose or a black eye today.

Bucky doesn’t get violent. He seems to register Steve’s presence, as his scent shifts to something slightly more eager and his hips start rocking harder on the foam padding of the form. But his eyes don’t track Steve’s movement when the alpha kneels down beside him, and he doesn’t talk. He just keeps making these little stubborn grunts as he works on stimming himself up to another orgasm.

There’ve been several already, if the state of the rocker is anything to go by. Its red vinyl covering is shiny wet between Bucky’s thighs, making squeaky-slick noises as he moves. Steve reaches out and tentatively touches Bucky’s back. The boy’s nostrils flare and he grunts, rocking harder.

“Shh. Okay, Sweetheart. Okay. I’m gonna help you feel better, Alright bub? Just gotta let me move you around a little bit.”

‘Sexual catatonia’ is the technical term for what Bucky’s experiencing. His brain has gone into protection mode and his body is seeking out the most basic of comforting stimuli as it tries to reorient itself. He’s regressed, only able to process a certain level of input right now, and he’ll stay that way until his body receives enough signals that he’s safe and protected and wanted.

So Steve’s job is to make him feel all three of those things.

He gathers Bucky up from the rocker, shushing him and holding him in a basket restraint position until his few seconds of reactive thrashing stop. “Okay, okay. You’re okay,” Steve murmurs, keeping a low purr going in his chest for Bucky to hear and feel against his back. “Shh sh sh. Okay now. Here we go. Come on over here with Alpha.”

He all but carries him out to the hallway and into the bathroom. The nurse is already in there, setting things up. Bucky’s like a blind and deaf animal, staring aimlessly and making upset noises as he scents another person in the room with them. The orderly keeps a wide berth, but nods at Steve as they enter and points to the equipment he’s had set up for them. “Three bags there for him,” he says. “Just in case.” He heads for the door. “Push the button if you need anything else. I’ll be on station for the rest of the morning.”

Steve nods, depositing Bucky on the treatment bed. “Thanks.”

Bucky’s already naked, so that much is taken care of at least. He’s grunting a little more angrily now that he’s been taken away from his rocker and brought somewhere unfamiliar, so Steve moves around in a hurry to get them all set up. The colonics bed is shaped to cradle him in the correct position while he lies on his back. Steve guides his legs over the incline, then goes about setting up the machine.

‘Therapeutic pregnancy’ isn’t much more than a medicated retention enema, but it can help with bringing omegas out of severe emotional and psychiatric episodes. Obviously, it’s not an actual pregnancy. It’s just that the patient’s body is temporarily tricked into thinking it’s pregnant. And that’s what the nurse was referring to when he said he’d set aside “three bags” for Bucky. On the machine’s hook hang three heavy bags—all full of synthetic alpha semen.

Steve pulls a warmed blanket from the electric cabinet and drapes it over Bucky’s upper body. The omega’s eyes flutter closed as he immediately starts purring in pleasure. Steve smiles tenderly and comforts him, even though he knows that Bucky isn't to aware of his surroundings right now. “There ya go, bub. Just gimme a sec and we’ll have you feeling real good, okay?” He rolls the cart over and hooks up the bags. The machine will warm it to the natural temperature of semen as it moves through the tubes and into Bucky’s body, but first: the apparatus.

An average adult alpha knot is about the size of a regulation baseball, and the artificial knotting apparatuses that hospitals like Hydra Sanatorium use are thus sized. Uninflated, however, the diameter is small—no more than Steve's own thumb. It’s very easy to lube the thing up and slide it inside of Bucky. The omega is already aroused, lax, wet and swollen, and Steve feels his dick start to get interested when he glances down to watch the rubber nozzle slip past Bucky’s pink and pulsing rim.

If you were mine … he thinks covetously, Bucky’s plaintive whimpers echoing alongside the treacherously unprofessional thoughts in his head. If Bucky were his, they wouldn’t be in this horrible, institutionally puke-green tiled bathroom right now. They’d be in Steve’s home, in bed or in some little space in the apartment that Bucky had chosen to nest. Steve would be fucking his mate naturally instead of using all this artificial crap.

If Bucky were his, he wouldn’t even be regressed like this in the first place, because he would know down to the marrow of his bones that he was loved and wanted. Steve would make sure of it. He’d keep him healthy and happy and satisfied. Maybe Bucky would even be pregnant for real, bred up all fat and happy with Steve’s pups. Steve can’t stop thinking about the drawing that Bucky did in art therapy, how he’d drawn himself pregnant in the picture. He’d expressed uncertainty about pregnancy, but maybe if it were Steve’s pup inside him, Bucky wouldn’t mind it then. Maybe everything would balance out in his system, if Steve put a litter in him. Maybe it would make Bucky happy if he—

On the bed, Bucky whines, and Steve shakes his head and huffs at himself. If, if, if. Too bad he doesn’t get paid for Ifs. “Get it together, Rogers,” he mutters, and reaches down to grind the heel of his hand punishingly against his trapped dick—It helps, somewhat. He grasps the hand pump for the knotting mechanism and squeezes it, observing Bucky carefully as he slowly but surely inflates the rubber bulb to its full size inside the omega’s body.

Bucky’s unseeing eyes blink up at the ceiling, glossy with unshed tears. “Ahn, ahn, ah,” he grunts softly. “Ugn, ugn, ah …”

Steve uses his free hand to rub over his lower belly. “You’re okay. It’s okay, Buck. S’that feel nice? I bet it does, huh? Don’t worry, Sweetheart. You just relax now for Alpha, mkay? Alpha’s gonna make it feel good.” He’s sure it’s not the actual words, so much as it is the sound of his voice that Bucky recognizes, but even still, it’s nice to see the way that Bucky responds to him. “That’s right,” he soothes. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy for Alpha, Buck. Alpha loves you.”

He starts the flow, remaining at Bucky’s side and massaging his tummy gently while the machine begins to pump.

The therapy mimics a pregnancy in that it fills the patient’s body with a physical weight. It inflates the colon and the uterus and mimics the influx of hormones that a growing fetus would create. These physical cues help to trick the brain into thinking an actual pregnancy is taking place, and it’s that input—in addition to the naturally calming feeling of the knot itself—which forcibly tells the omega brain that it is safe and bred, wanted and protected. Only a strong and dominant alpha can keep an omega successfully bred up, after all—that’s what the basest parts of a regressed omega’s mind hang onto. And Bucky is currently fully regressed.

His thumb is back up in his mouth already, sucking away. Steve rumbles in his chest in answer to every grunt and moan that Bucky makes, rubbing his tummy for him as he slowly but surely fills out from the liquid. Steve’s sitting on a stool beside the bed, down by Bucky’s bottom where the warm blanket doesn’t cover, so he can clearly see the twitch of the boy’s taught little sac, the way his shrunken prick is getting chubby underneath the swell of his belly. He frees one hand up from the belly massage and rubs him there, smiling tenderly at the pleased chirp he gets for his efforts. “Yeah,” he whispers, working the head between his fingers like he would a female patient’s clit, nice and delicate, gliding gently from the precum his little dick keeps blurting out. “S’that feel nice, baby?”

Bucky grunts in an adorably demanding way and shoves his butt down against the knotting mechanism to stimulate himself harder with it. Steve chuckles and uses his other hand to tug on the nozzle, rocking the inflated rubber knot nice and steady against the swollen glands inside. Bucky makes a very happy noise at that, and when Steve looks up at his face, he sees the omega staring at the ceiling with bleary eyes, hand fallen away from his mouth as he pants open-mouthed and drools. A wave of renewed want hits Steve so hard, he almost feels like he’s taken a punch to the gut. “Oh, bub,” he whispers, feeling his eyes start to heat with the threat of tears. He wants to take care of Bucky so bad that it hurts. Just absolutely fucking aches. He thumbs under his cockhead a little faster, and is able to pull the next orgasm out of him within seconds.

Bucky sobs, voice caught high and pleasure-pained in his throat, still non-verbal and lost in his own head. Steve swallows heavily and glances over at the enema bags. “Almost there,” he says, forcing himself to go back to rubbing Bucky’s belly as the boy takes the last quart of semen inside his body. “Doing so well, Buck,” Steve praises, running both of his big hands over the swell of his belly.

Fuck, he really does look pregnant. With his muscles all lax from the regression, and a couple liters of cum inside him, he’s filled out enough that he looks like he could be about four months pregnant. Steve eases him through the rest of the remaining bag, praising him with a bunch of rambling words when the machine cuts off from its pumping cycle. He removes the tubing from the knot and rolls the machine back out of the way, goes to grab another couple of warm blankets from the cabinet and drapes them over Bucky’s midsection and legs so that he’s totally covered and encased in warmth.

The boy sighs and grunts happily at the sensations, and Steve smiles down at him. “I know, Love, I know. That feels really good, huh? That’s what we want. Need to show your body that everything’s okay. Make you feel like a mommy for just a little while.” Bucky’s not really hearing him or seeing him, but Steve refuses to believe that the sound of his voice doesn’t have any effect. Bucky knows his voice, he does. Steve knows he does.

Bucky’s eyes are barely open. The tears that’ve been glazing over for so long have gathered at the corners and trickled down his temples as he lies there and feels his body telling him it’s pregnant. The knot is keeping him plugged up and the liquid will have made it past his cervix by now, filling him up with a warm, heavy pressure. Steve remains close and rubs his bloated belly from overtop the blankets, maintaining a steady stream of praise in his ear.

When it’s been a good half hour or so, Bucky begins to show signs of emerging from the fugue. His eyes seem to track Steve’s movements more, and he starts to become more aware of his surroundings. He doesn’t have his words back yet, because he looks to Steve and whimpers and whines little helpless sounds, rather than asking questions about what’s going on or what’s happened. Steve hurries to hold his hand and reassure him. “Shh sh sh. Hey, you back with me, Sweetheart? Hi.” He smiles gently and pets his face. “You’re doing great. Took your treatment so well, Baby.”

Bucky wiggles in place, and Steve can see the moment he recognizes the heaviness in his belly. His hands go there, touching the swell of himself, and Steve nods and places a hand on top. “Yeah, that’s right. We’ve got your tummy all filled up. It’s okay. Just a little inflation therapy. S’it feel nice?”

Bucky looks shocked, and incredibly vulnerable, but not upset. His eyes still leak sluggish tears as he nods at Steve. “...‘pha?” he warbles, the tail end of what is probably the only word he’s capable of articulating right now.

Steve’s face pinches and he smiles and nods. “That’s right, bub. Alpha’s right here takin’ care of you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Bucky whimpers, dazed, and his eyes slip closed again. But down below, on the distended curve of his belly, he hooks his pinky finger over Steve’s.

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dramarising-replacement · 8 months ago

Text

Free art threads.

Made a couple of these in the past, and I'm actually considering just.. not doing them on this site anymore? I actually think I'd be better off doing free art for people on Toyhou.se instead.

Cue the rant.

-------

So I'm sure some of y'all are familiar with the "Creative Corner" in the forums, yeah? You can share random art you've made, ask people how much they'd pay for your art, that sort of thing. Then, you got the free art threads. They can be titled things like "Drawing ur dragons :33" and "bored, draw humans. bye." and you'll also see the same couple users posting in those threads, but I'm not here to name-drop lol.

The ones who I have a problem with are the ones who don't read anything. Like, at all. You could spend thirty minutes crafting a decent looking thread, filled with information (but not TOO much, just enough to answer most people's questions) and highlight the "rules" part of your thread that has specific steps to follow for free art. Wanna know what the majority of the commentors on your thread are gonna do?

"[Insert dragon image] Pls draw :)" or "[Link to a page with over 60+ dragons] choose whatever one you want.]" and that's about it. There won't be any mention of any steps you wanted them to follow, (The steps are usually very simple, too. As in, let the artist know the bare minimum idea of what you want. I'm talking about expressions here. That's literally all they'd have to do to get some scrumptious free art.) and that feels kinda invalidating, y'know?

I'm not asking the commentors to describe a whole scene for me, I'm just asking them to give me ONE LITTLE IDEA (again, an expression or maybe if they want a bust) and I'll do the rest for them, free of charge. The art that they'd be getting isn't some random disaster of a sketch, nono, it's fully-colored and shaded. It also doesn't look like something that a 5 year old drew. (No shade to people who draw like that, I was stuck like that for years.) Bro, just do a MINIMAL amount of reading and I'll draw your dragon that has an absurd amount of apparel to tje point where it hurts my eyes.

..It doesn't just stop there, either. I've also seen these people never reply to artists who have given them an absolute masterpiece of a drawing, for free. Bro. You serious? I get that some people are inactive, which I'm not bothered by. But the ones who aren't? ...Ehh, I just think you could at least thank the artist before returning to the void with your free art.

The moral of the story is; Do the bare minimum and read what matters in a post, and thank the artists who draw your dragons for free. Especially the ones who could've easily charged you 1kg+ for the work they've done.

If you're socially awkward, then cool. I get that. If you can't afford to pay artists with fictional pixel money, then go ahead and visit the free art threads. I'm not trying to gate-keep them, I literally make these threads. I just don't enjoy having people put zero effort in their requests and then never acknowledge the fact that I drew their dragon for them. Just my thoughts, everyone views things differently and that's okay!

---

Btw, I mentioned Toyhou.se because I've posted on both before, and while there are SOME similarities in the users' behavior, there's also some notable differences, too.

Common flight rising free art thread comment: [doesnt read text and adds dragon image] thanks if you draw.

Common Toyhou.se free art thread comment: [links a character, goes into a VERY in-depth explanation about how said character acts, very passionate too. Usually reads rules, too.] Thanks if you draw. (gotta stay consistent lol)

Obviously there are some differences in the sites which affect how the users act, I get that. One's a literal dragon collecting game and the other one's focused on writing and drawing characters, it's expected that one would read more than the other.

...But again, free art. Not paid, but free. Someone takes time out of their day to draw your dragon. Just give them a simple "thanks" and go on your merry way. That's all you gotta do. Lets them know their effort was appreciated, and shows that you're a nice person. Win-win.

Please man, just read. Did I mention that these threads usually have a maximum of 100 words? I don't usually type this much. But damn, this just irritated me so much.

Well, that's the end of this rant. Like I said, a few people are obviously going to disagree with some/maybe everything I've said, and that's life. This was a disorganized rant, and that's all it's going to be.

#Forums

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kitkat-the-muffin · 2 years ago

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I’ve been hesitant to post this because I’m afraid of it becoming popular and blowing up my notifications but I just have to get it off my chest

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish, one of the most artistically beautiful films I’ve ever seen, would not be possible if it weren’t for the animation industry’s obsession with making CGI look “realistic”

You’re probably wondering what I mean. After all, when comparing the two movies in the Puss In Boots series, the first one definitely looks more realistic while the second looks more cartoonish

But a cartoonish art style is not a downgrade. A really bad art teacher once told me that “in order to draw good cartoons one has to first master realism.” While this advice did not help me in the slightest, I think I finally understand what she meant

Puss In Boots: The Last Wish isn’t in a realistic art style but it still feels real in its own universe thanks to the techniques the animation industry learned from realism. I’m struggling to properly put my thoughts into words so let me try an example

You know how people used to compare the dog from the first Toy Story to the cat from Toy Story 4? And how realistic the cat looked while the dog looked ugly and plastic? Imagine if those animators tried to remake the dog with their new techniques

If they aimed for total realism, it’d look realistic but unrecognizable from it’s original design. However, by taking the road to realism and then turning at the fork into cartoonism, the plastic looking dog can be both realistic and recognizable when art styles are merged properly

I think what my old art teacher was trying to say was that if I draw a cartoon nose without perfecting a realistic nose it’ll look off or something. That’s not really true, art styles are forged from the artist’s own experiences and efforts, but I understand that the physics of a sketch should match the physics of reality

Hair should move with the wind, a character’s weight should be consistent, arm length mustn’t change every frame, etc etc. The efforts of CGI animators to master these physics and then attribute them to fictional settings and scenarios is admirable. Ever see those behind the scenes videos for Tangled and how they animated Rapunzel’s hair? That’s so cool how they meticulously made sure it felt natural wherever it landed

Animation was not made to be a substitute for Live Action (looking at you Lion King remake). While it may be utilized as such, its true purpose was to be a medium for unachievable spectacles, such as a small mouse in red shorts piloting a steamship. Animation should be based on this divergence from what is unrealistically possible in our reality and what may be possible in another

That’s why Disney’s live-action remakes aren’t as good as their original films, because they change the context of the medium. If you suddenly introduce a world where Fairy Godmothers exist in live-action, what makes our world so special in comparison?

Anyway uh with how long this post is it probably won’t blow up, so my notes are safe for now. I hope those who do find this post learn something though

#muffin moments #I’m not tagging every film I talk about though #puss in boots: the last wish #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots #puss in boots 2 #disney #toy story #toy story 4

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daydreamerfox · 1 year ago

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Routine Update #1

It'll all be under the cut in case you don't want to read it!

Also, please enjoy these sketches of Kaeya, because drawing this man brings me joy!

Close ups also under the cut!

I wanna make these kind of text kinda regularly, that’s something that I’m slowly working on.

There are a few things that I’ve noticed as the time went by that I think they’re important enough to be written down and read not just by you but by myself too, so I can keep reminding myself of that all the time!

Creating habits is something hard. It takes time. Months, actually. It’s not easy to get used to do something you never really did before or start doing something in a completely different way. The important thing is to be persistent and not giving up, the more you do it consistently the more you’ll get used to doing it.

Yes, there will be moments you’ll forget to do this new activity, there will be moments you’ll go back to your old “routine” and not even realize, and that’s fine! It’s normal. The important part is that, if you notice yourself doing that, you pay attention on what made you stop doing it (if possible) and change what’s needed so you can go back to your habit. That being if you’ve noticed that this new habit is helping you in any way.

I’ve been trying to record videos about what I’m doing and what I’m trying to change or not in my routine, but I frequently forget about recording them and sometimes I feel like I should just let go of this idea because “it’s been a long time I don’t work on it, anyway”, but that kind of thought is exactly the reason why I’m doing this whole process. It’s precisely to make me not give up on my projects and keep evolving and working on them and actually turning all my ideas into reality.

There are different kinds of productivity and when you’re working on a project that you really want to make it become a reality you don’t want a short term productivity, you want a long term one, something that would actually help you make things happen, actually create all those things you want to create, something that will help you feel like you’re moving forward and not stuck in the same place.

This kind of productivity doesn’t have a lot to do with how much you can dedicate yourself to it each day, it has more to do with how much attention you give to this project in general, how persistent you are and, more importantly, not giving up on getting it done, even if you spend a few days not working on it.

It’s important to pay attention to how organized your project is and how much you make it easy for your brain to think about it at different times of the day. If your brain can easily think about that and you have the path you wanna take minimally thought out, then that’s already a big step towards being productive!

The less obstacles you put in your own path, the better (we already have so many that we don’t have control of, lets try our best to help ourselves with what we can change!). Slowly I’m starting to understand that having a bunch of different big projects simultaneously can also be an obstacle. If you wanna do something, it’s important to direct your attention to that thing. Priorities are hard to come up with, but they’re necessary in these moments. (Particularly I’m a mess in all of these, and I guess you can see why I haven’t been posting much… oops!).

I’m trying to change that, though, get better at focusing myself in what I wanna accomplish and what I wanna make come true, try to prioritize every single one of my goals and give them the right amount of attention so I can get where I want.

I’ve changed my set up, now I’ve been using my drawing tablet also as a second monitor, even when I’m just writing these texts. That might sound as something really simple and with no importance, but the idea is to help me whenever I decide to draw something. I’ve noticed that sometimes I felt like drawing, but just because the tablet wasn’t connected to the computer I kept procrastinating as much as I could and eneded up not producing anything, now all I need to do i move my keyboard to the side and grab my stylus. It hasn’t been long that I did that, let’s see how this will go and how much it’ll improve my productivity or not, I’ll keep you guys updated on that!

I’ve been trying to go slow, get it easy on the things I wanna do and keep them simple, I usually end up making everything super complex and hard for myself, way more than I should, which always makes things hard to actually finish any project. Sometimes I plan it so much and end up never really working on them because I always think I haven’t planned them enough, and I always catch myself doing many things at once and planning 3-4 other unrelated projects I’d like to work on, without even knowing where to start!

At the moment I’m trying to get used to my projects I’m already working on and just when I’m already used enough that I don’t have to think too much about what I’m doing, then I’ll consider starting another project.

Do you also go through that? Do you guys have any solutions?

#genshin impact #fanart #kaeya #brart #brazilian artists #my art #daydreamerfox #text #motivational #inspiring #🦊 the artist rambles #Daydreamer Fox Text

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jacqthehermit · 2 years ago

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Art Summary and Art vs Artist 2022

2022 Art Ramblings and Other Shenanigans:

A.) I am not speed

Whenever artists wanna try something new to improve their art, we tend to make big drastic changes right away. This can be effective for others but not for everyone. As you can see, my art style is still the same as last year with minimal tweaks.

I decided that if I'm gonna make improvements, I'm gonna do it gradually instead of incorporating them all at once. This can be a big help in maintaining consistency. If the changes were small, we can easily remember and apply them on our next artwork.

“So is it effective? Did your art improve?”

It’s barely noticeable but yes it did. I like the direction in which my art progress is currently going. I am at the point where I actually like my finished work more than my sketch. You know that meme where artists like their sketch more than their finished work bec it looks better? I don’t feel like that anymore and that surely tells something haha.

B.) I failed successfully

Last year, I made a pseudo new years' resolution where I said "I hope I can draw my ships, anime and original stuff" since I mostly did Genshin. Well, I successfully drew my ships, anime and original stuff this year HOWEVER I made less videos lol.

I tried doing 1-2 artworks in between videos but sometimes the artwork took me longer to finish so I wasn't able to make video content afterwards. Another thing was the fact that I sorta dedicated some months tryna help save our country but in the end we failed miserably... Anyways! Let's not talk about that here.

Even though I made less videos, I managed to make 2 impactful videos which contributed a lot to my channel's growth this year. One of them is now my most viewed video.

C.) I wanna delete everything

Checking other artists' IG accounts makes me want to turn my account into an art only account. But then again I know I'll be having the urge to shitpost and post irl stuff every now and then so as much as I wanted to be one of those mysterious artists who only post/talk about their art, I can't lmao.

I feel like there's a lot of pressure on the artists who only post art related stuff bec people will always be expecting you to post art or even if they don't, you yourself might think they expect you to. And this kinda contributes to being burnt out somehow.

Whenever I am on the verge of deleting everything (except art) I remind myself that it's fine even if I ain't one of those cool artists accounts. I am human and I do other human activities too besides drawing. It's like taking a breather I guess.

"Make 2 accounts, one art and one personal"

Not everyone has the capacity to manage 2 accounts in one platform when you’re already managing other accounts on other platforms. Even if you did, most people who followed you for your art won't give a fuck about your personal one which kinda defeats the purpose haha.

I know this is not applicable to all artists, especially the professionals/veterans. But for hobbyists like me, maybe you should consider this. I am not forcing you to post personal stuff bec I know not everyone likes that. I'm just saying that it's important to emphasize every once in a while to your audience that you are human too and not just an art producing machine.

D.) I miss time traveling

Long time ago, during my Deviantart days, I used to type a bunch of shit in the description box of my artworks. Then came the Tumblr era where I continued to blog my heart out. When these platforms "died" and Twitter and IG migration happened, I slowly stopped doing this without me noticing it.

I still say things on Twitter but since there's a limit and making threads is a pain in the ass, I ain't as expressive as before. And these platforms (Twitter and IG) made me adapt to its "culture" of short tweets/captions or sometimes nothing at all, just pictures. Which was great! I mean not everyone needs to know your entire business on the interweb right lol.

But as time passed by, I began to realize that I love backreading (I dunno if this is the right term) whatever shit I used to talk about in the past. It's actually amusing no matter how cringe, happy or lonely it was. However, since transferring to Twt and IG, I can no longer go back to a certain period in my life to reminisce what the hell I was thinking, doing and feeling that time because I got nothing to backread and that made me kinda sad?

Even though I am still bad with words, I am trying my best to resurrect my old self here in IG (just less cringe and more careful this time). Don’t worry I am not going to make long posts everyday lmao.

"Nobody's gonna read all that"

True. HOWEVER my future self would and I think that's more important. It's the same as writing in your diary, you write for yourself first and foremost.

“Why don’t you just go back to Tumblr to blog”

My time on Tumblr has passed. Whatever good or bad memories I have there, I just wanna keep them as they are and no longer add some haha. I still love the platform and post my artworks there tho.

Conclusion:

Art progress and channel growth did great this year. Tho I fell short in terms of quantity of my video content, the quality compensated. I am not gonna make any pseudo new year’s resolutions this year. All I can say is I have a lot of ideas and I hope I can execute them.

Before I end this, I just wanna say hi to my future self. I know you’re reading this again for the nth time. Maybe you’re feeling sentimental or just bored as usual haha. Nevertheless I hope you’re doing well.

Happy New Year everyone! Stay safe and see you on my next video~

Jacq out.

P.S. Fuck AI generated images.

#genshin impact #kaeya #yae miko #venbara #yaeyato #naruto #jimin #jin #shaman king #xiaolumi #chilumi #jacqthehermit.drawing

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jenuinedog · 2 years ago

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Sorry if this is is a weird question, but how do you draw so many different shapes and poses so fluidly?

(I have a drawing style based on realism and I'm having a lot of trouble finding ways to adapt to different poses and expressions in a way that makes sense to me)

Not weird at all! A lot of my process is breaking things down into simple shapes and making silly mental notes to myself like “ the middle finger is usually always longer than all the other fingers” and “ overlap this line here to make the arm bend look more believable” fjhgsdjhfsdgf

Now, I could spend time drawing out the musculoskeletal structure of everything and all the joints and where everything goes, but that’s extremely boring to me and i’m impatient. So I opt for simple color blocking the silhouettes of shapes. Just enough so I know what I can manipulate, and how. Besides, you can always add details later. Focusing on details immediately is the quickest way to get frustrated, no matter what kind of style you have. Take. Your. Time!!!!

The way I approach it is similar to tweening in animation, or the intermediate frames between two key frames. Y’know, those frames you see when you pause something and the character looks stretched out/disfigured ? Those frames are what create more movement. Same can be applied to the drawing process! Lets look at this lil doodle here:

Sure, the subtle stretch of the circle shows decently enough that these two both have the circle, and want it, and don’t want each other to have it, but it doesn’t really feel like it, does it? buuuuuuuuuuut..

If we stretch it a lil bit and emphasize the STREEEETCH (and the effect of it on the poses respectively), it looks a lot more exaggerated, which makes it more fluid. You get a better sense of the tug of war between these two. Who will win? Will the circle stay in one piece?? Did these two ever learn the concept of sharing???? What matters is you can see the movement a lot more clearly. Especially in tandem with the first doodle. There WILL be a victor here.

You can apply this to basically any shape! Once you break down your shapes, see how they fit with the movement of what you’re drawing. Stretch and squish and squeeze as needed. Combining curves with straights aids in bringing more movement by allowing some contrast to show where the stress of the movement is the highest/most influential. OH also...

DRAW THROUGH YOUR SHAPES!!! This helps you follow the form a bit easier, which will lead to more coherent movement throughout your drawings!

You can see where i’ve kept the initial lines and where i’ve drawn the back of the head and how it feeds into the neck, which then feeds into how I “attach” the shoulders to the torso. This also provides consistency, which I find is super helpful in guiding me to where the “flow” of the pose is going or more prominent. You can (sorta) see where I made the right eye slope a bit upwards to follow the contour of the purple circle I used for the initial headshape. The distortion makes it look more dynamic, even when there isnt any real movement going on here. It provides depth and feel and a sense of where these shapes are sitting in relation to other shapes.

(its a messy sketch, but hopefully you can see where I was goin’ with it LOL).

Learning to abuse foreshortening is also a good way to get some fluidity in your poses/expressions. The whole concept relies on making a deal with perspective to elongate, overlap, and compress shapes to “fit” within the composition. It might also help to try figuring out which edges and contours are more important to your composition, and accentuate them as well!

I hope this helps aid you somewhat in your quest to figuring out how to make sense of things in your style, n good luck! <:

#i know this is long but #hope it's easily digestible #it's been a while since i've picked apart my process for a tutorial LOL #asks #tutorial

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iraprince · 3 years ago

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this might not be something you personally have difficulty with, but i was recently diagnosed with severe adhd and i was wondering if you had any tips regarding just like….drawing?? i have such a hard time getting started even though i usually end up feeling pretty stoked and happy with my work if i manage to get something down. i used to draw constantly as a kid to help me focus in class, but in my adult life i just feel like there are so many invisible barriers between myself and putting pencil to paper. i’m sure there are a lot of perfectionism issues involved as well, so i guess just any sort of advice in any of those areas would be greatly appreciated! your work is fantastic and i’m really grateful that you share adhd stuff as well!! have a great day! :o)

i actually have a LOT of difficulty with this -- i have more difficulty than i have advice, probably! but my advice always ends up boiling down to the same thing lately, and it sounds really hokey but i mean it as literally as possible bc it's the only thing that consistently works for me: be fucking nice to yourself!

for a long time the only solution i had to being Inexplicably Unable To Do Something was to yell at myself, bully myself, assume that i wasn't trying hard enough, and end up a miserable little ball of confusion and frustration. it was def worse before i was diagnosed, but it's definitely not gone (sometimes "i don't know why i can't just do it!" just gets replaced with "well, i know what the problem is, so why can't i find a way around it?!"). and after many many years of experience with the bullying reaction vs a much shorter time comparing this reaction to other, kinder approaches, i can say with a lot of confidence that handling it with internal yelling and shaming doesn't work, straight up. it's not helpful, and most of the time it makes things worse -- even if you manage to force yourself to complete a task once or twice like this, it's too exhausting and demoralizing to be sustainable. so, while you haven't mentioned frustration in your question, that's still where my mind goes as a first step: if you're experiencing distress or anger or embarrassment over running into those barriers over and over again, the first step is practicing being calm and forgiving, not immediately trying to find a way around it. once you hit the wall and you find you can calmly go "oh, okay! this isn't working. let's figure out why" instead of immediately launching into "what the fuck is WRONG with me????", finding solutions is a lot easier.

the times i've surprised myself by having things just suddenly Flow after a long period of struggling are usually brought about by a ton of excitement and enthusiasm! i get really into a rarepair and i'm gripped with the need to make my own content, or i make a new oc who i really love, or i get back into a piece of media i haven't touched in a while and get all charged up with excitement. you gotta feed the tank to make stuff, so setting time aside to consume stuff that inspires and excites you is just as important as setting the time aside to actually sit down and try to draw.

another thing that has helped me is trying to be really purposeful abt reminding myself WHY i draw; sometimes, especially since it's my job, the images i'm supposed to be making just turn into this big featureless stack of Tasks instead of me really thinking about + appreciating what i do and why i love it. when i'm in a rut with commissions, for example, sometimes before i even try to start working (or if i HAVE tried to start and it's just not happening), i stop and sit down with the wips and really LOOK at them. i go through them one at a time and point out things i like about them or what i'm looking forward to doing: "the pose came out so good on the first try and i want to see what it'll look like finished," or "detailing all this hair is going to be so fun and relaxing." when you get so caught up in the constant repeated thought of "i just want to DO something, i want to DRAW," especially when it's been days or weeks or months where you can't, i think you can unconsciously start replacing "i want to draw because it's fun and i like what i make" with "i want to draw because i keep failing to and i just want to prove i can still do it," and for me the latter thought is usually way more distressing than it is motivating.

and finally, a failsafe: sometimes, when i can remember to do it, my secret weapon is counting down at myself for the tiniest steps possible. like i'll literally say out loud, "on the count of five, i'm going to stand up and go get my sketchbook. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...." it has to be out loud and i think the reason it works is because like. if you say it out loud, reach five, and you don't do it, you feel astronomically goofy??? and then i just go from there: "on the count of 5, i'm going to find an empty page." "on the count of 5, i'm going to start sketching a head." it kind of forces through the executive dysfunction in a way i haven't really been able to replicate with anything else. it doesn't always work in a super meaningful way -- like, plenty of times i do like three steps and then i'm like "i hate this and i don't want to and i'm not gonna make anything good like this so i give up!" and then i just take the L for the afternoon. but when the "frozen in place, literally cannot stop just staring at the page" thing is the main issue, it might be enough of a push to get going!

as always here's me going "oh oop no i dont have a lot sorry" and then rambling for paragraphs and paragraphs but by now we should be used to that. good luck, and remember 2 be patient + nice :D

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thefuchsianeko · 3 years ago

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never posted these here i guess. well

a while ago something compelled me to do edits with my redesign of Alastor (I WOULD link back to my original post with the redesigns, but it’s old and ugly so...)

got really into it I think

too lazy to write it all out again so I’m just gonna copy-paste what I wrote about them from Instagram... so under the cut will be the original screenshots, as well as some design notes and stuff

I sketched a couple of other characters but I mostly did Alastor... also those are the only ones I actually finished lol. I'm most interested in his redesign than the others.

tl;dr -- I tried simplifying his design while also making it more period-accurate (he died in the '20s apparently), as well as giving him details and a colour design that I think would help him stand out amongst the other characters (tho I did nothing else to edit these but if I was in charge of design a lot of colours in the environment would be changed to help characters stand out from the bg). I also kept some of his deer-traits (the ear-tufts and antlers specifically) bc idk i like deer whatever. (also if these edits are inconsistent idc if the pilot won't be consistent then neither will i)

I don't think it's a secret that I kinda don't like Hazbin Hotel that much... I mean I'm interested in seeing where it goes but the pilot itself very flawed. ANYWAY hehehh... I fucking hate Alastor's design but at this point I kinda love hating him (for reasons unintended by the creators). His design is ANNOYING AS SHIT and he comes off as try-hard so I can't take him seriously. Some design notes... So he supposedly died in the '20s but like, his outfit looks like it'd be from a lot earlier? Annoys the shit outta me but anyway I just gave him a simple suit (after skimming one of my books about '20s and '30s fashion I saw a lot of that) along with some coattails for a cooler silhouette. Almost gave him a regular tie too but I kinda like the upside-down cross thing he has goin' on (a symbol often mistakenly attributed to satanism but whatever looks neat). Cleaned up his hair, kept the ear-tuft-things for the deer-look but also I kinda like how the ears blend into the hair (here it should be assumed they're ears at least). Made his antlers bigger so you can uh ACTUALLY SEE THEM. Muted his colour scheme to help go with the '20s theme and make him stand out against allllll the fkin red, and gave him flat teeth instead of sharp teeth. I think it’d be cool if everyone else in Hell had sharp teeth except this fuckin’ guy… it’d stand out. Didn’t change his radio-staff much but I’d probably make it look more like a mic from the ‘20s. Also I changed his nose bc I want more variety and I hate his goddamn button-nose like wtf.

Oh also, his story's kinda different; in my rewrite Alastor has become a kind of a recluse for years after finishing his last big radio-show (the one that Vaggie exposition-dumps to Angel Dust in the pilot) because he’s having trouble trying to figure out what his next show will be (basically he has art-block lol). He wants it to top (or at least equal) the quality of his last show. When he hears about Charlie’s project from her news interview, her passion and belief in the hotel ignites new inspiration in him (plus the idea of the hotel is insane to him and whether it succeeds or not it’d make a great show). He goes to the hotel in the hope to make a deal so he can cover the story as it unravels. Also he doesn't show off his power that much, if anything it's all only sprinkled in and/or hinted to. He can be pretty friendly but people feel uneasy around him bc 1) he just has that kind of aura and 2) people try not to make him upset in fear of being ripped apart.

Idk if any of this doesn't make sense you can ask about it and I'll try to explain better.... maybe idk i hate words

btw don't be surprised if I make more stuff for this later on bc I kinda love him and have been thinking about a rewrite of the pilot (this is all for fun, of course. If you like the show that's great and I can see how others would like it, there's just details about it that bug me specifically).

#screenshot edit #screencap edit #hazbin hotel #redesign #alastor #character design #veez art

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honeyatsu · 4 years ago

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Loner (Junpei x f!reader) 2

Warnings: whole lotta fluff. y/n being dense lmao.

summary: Junpei was suspicious of you. He always felt the world was filled with people who were naturally evil in some way, until you came into his life and challenged his theory.

masterlist

crossposted on ao3

unorganized sountrack

a/n: updates gonna be slow from now on until the semester is over!

Tatsu ramen wasn’t too far from the school grounds, taking your time walking would consist of a light fifteen minutes. The sun would be setting by the time you and Junpei would make your way to the restaurant, the streets being busy with those walking home after a long day. Tatsu ramen would never be too busy with the time you two went considering it was often school days that you two would go and eat after school hours and (sometimes) do homework. The two of you have become all too familiar with the place, the dim-lit yellow walls and red booths become a place of comfort, a place to rest and ease down after a long day of classes and spending time at your clubs.

Within a month, it was a routine for you two. After finishing your club activities, you would always wait for Junpei outside of the school gates, usually playing with the hems of your uniformed skirt and smiling widely as you would see him walk towards you. The first time he saw you waiting he didn’t know it was for him, until you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the same place you took him to the day before without warning.

It was more you who would go out of your way to look for him, noticing him at school a lot more since meeting him in class. He would often walk with head down, so you would run to him while shouting his name, hugging him from behind to grab his attention. Within the first two weeks of you latching yourself onto him with your presence, he just wanted to ask why. Why did you run from your friends to be with him? Why did you wait after school every day with him just to go and eat after? Why were you so persistent in being his friend?

He would often wonder why with you, but he never asked.

“This assignment is sooo hard, don’t wanna do it.” You sighed while laying your head on the table. You reached your hands out across, grabbing Junpei’s fingers and playing with them lightly. You didn’t miss the way his face heated up at your sudden display of contact. You smiled softly to yourself before saying, “You still get flustered when I touch you. Does it bother you? I can stop.”

You tried not to display a look of disappointment of your face, fearing his answer would be to ask you to stop. You figured after a month of friendship with him he’d be used to it, but you wanted to respect his boundaries and his body language continued to display discomfort whenever you would practically breath near him.

“It’s, uhm, it’s just….always so sudden.” He said averting his gaze to his bowl to avoid the smug look on your face. “Do you just casually touch all your friends like this?”

You didn’t want to admit this to yourself, but you’d be lying if you said his small display of jealous didn’t stroke your ego. That and the simple fact that for the first time in a month, he finally acknowledged you as his friend. That extremely small, and most likely unintentional vocal announcement of friendship was a firm pat in the back for you. With the surge of confidence overflowing, you made the bold (yet not out of character) move of removing your fingers from his, now holding a tight grip on his hand.

“Why? Does me touching my other friends like this bother you?” you teased at him as you rose your head from the table, giving him a subtle smirk.

He quickly removed his hand from yours, turning his head to the side trying to hide his flustered face from you, “I didn’t say that!” he exclaimed shakily.

Your hand that was once holding his shifted towards the chopsticks to the side, picking them up and bringing noodles closer to your face, “If you want, that can be our thing. You’re my favorite friend.” You said as you began to stuff ramen noodles in your mouth.

Junpei continued to avert his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at you.

---------------------

The monotoned lecture echoed throughout the classroom, the words going in one ear and out the other for the room of students struggling to pay attention. Heavy eyes could be mistaken as contagious for those who were fighting to not have their heads hit the desk, each and every student feeling the same internal battle of focusing on their sensei’s words.

You couldn’t keep your glittered purple pen from lightly hitting on the desk, every tap being used as a source of focus to help your heavy eyes stay open. Your foot followed the rhythem of the pen, you felt as if you had to keep moving, had to have something going on other than the mundane voice of the lecturer in the front of the room.

“…and now class, time for a break.”

You sighed in relief as you plopped your head onto Junpei’s shoulder, his body stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing, he was still getting used to your constant physical displays of affection.

Junpei waited to hear your voice seep through his ears, usually when breaks occur during class you take the ten minutes of free time to talk Junpei’s ear off. After all this time, it took you to start a conversation and carry it as well.

The silence was now unfamiliar, sitting with you he became accustomed to regular conversations. He used to crave silence, most words directed towards him stung, but with you he was looking forward to it. Before he was able to ask if you were okay, he noticed you begin to nod off to sleep, until in a split second your eyes perked up when you noticed a movie poster sticking out of his notebook. Your hands slowly dragged it out of the book as you stared at it, it was a “Scream” movie poster.

His shoulder was free from the weight of your head, staring at you curiously as you grabbed his notebook and placed it on the opposite side of where he was sitting, writing in it with your head laying down facing the other side of the desk. He couldn’t see what you were doing, shuffling awkwardly in his sit waiting to figure out what to anticipate from you next.

Within seven minutes, you turned to him with a wide grin plastered onto your face.

“Ta-da!”

He looked down at the paper you slid to his side of the desk and saw a very detailed drawing of ghostface. It was the signature pose, his dark cloak covering his body, holding onto the bloody knife raised before he was prepared to slaughter his next victim. His drawn mask didn’t miss any shadows, even the small texture was visible in your quick sketch.

“I didn’t know you could draw!” Junpei said excitedly, mouth agape as he grabbed the picture with both hands, his eyes widened in awe, “Are you in art club?”

“No, I wish. I take advanced art as a class though. I’m in the athletic club department. I’ve done martial arts and gymnastics my entire childhood.” You brought up your arm and flexed your muscles. “Feel them, I’m pretty strong.” You said with a grin.

Pretty strong would be an understatement, Junpei thought to himself. He brought his hand and gripped onto your bicep, gasping once you flexed to show him you indeed were strong, your muscles putting his slightly-skinny ones to shame.

“I’m pretty strong compared to you, Junpei.” He winced at your comment, about to make his first slick remark towards you until –

“That just means I get to be your knight and shining armor then.”

--------------

Avoiding the pleas of your friends to stay with them, you finally managed to escape the group in search for Junpei. Bumping into other classmates, hovering over lunch tables, even going to more isolated areas of the lunch room, he was still out of sight for you. You gripped your lunch box tightly in frustration, just how hard was it to find the one person in your school that had such a distinct look? You cursed yourself, after a month of friendship and spending the amount of time you did outside of school, you still never managed to get his number.

On a whim you decided to step outside, the cool October breeze catching you by surprise. The autumn trees displaying colors of yellow, orange, red, and purple were the perfect scenario for those school couples wanting to be away from the rest of the school, you knew this. Yet, it was such an embarrassing surprise when every step you would take you would come in a – very awkward -encounter with a couple, whether cuddling or making out, you’d just turn on your heel and act as if you didn’t see a thing at all.

You scolded yourself for even considering looking outside, knowing Junpei he’d be a flustered mess even being near these couples. You didn’t know who his friends outside of you were, so there was no way of you going to ask where he could be for lunch, and you were on the verge of giving up and going back to your group. While taking a detour walking the long way back to the cafeteria entrance, you noticed a boy sitting on a bench under a tree close to one of the classroom windows, a familiar overlapping bang covering the ride side of his face. You grinned to yourself before making your way – of course he’d be in the most isolated place in the whole school.

You ran to him, frantically waving and shouting his name before he finally looked up, giving you a small smile and wave back. Once you got there, you plopped next to him as you let out a deep breath and laid your head on his shoulder.

This time he didn’t flinch.

“What do your friends think?”

“hm?”

“You’re always ditching them for me….” Junpei replied sheepishly as he turned his head to the other side.

“Hey.” You said ignoring his statement, you pulled out your airpods and put one in your ear and one in his. “Give me your number.” You said handing your phone to him.

After he added himself as a contact to your phone, he noticed you quickly send him a link before you quickly snatched his phone from his hand, saving your contact as ‘y/n <3’.

“I made you something.” You said before sending him a link. He checked his phone and the message read, ‘For Junpei.’ With a red heart next to it. “It was a bunch of songs I liked, and I thought you’d like them too. And songs that made me think of you. Let’s listen to some together.”

You were about to hit play before you heard him sniffling next to you. You didn’t miss the tear drop that fell on top of his screen that he was staring at intensely. He had a small smile and blush on his face. Instinctively, you took out a handkerchief that was in your school uniform pocket and bringing it up to him, wiping his slight tear-stained face as he was gliding his fingers through the screen softly. “Are you okay?”

“No one’s ever really...gotten me anything.…let alone made me something.”

A slight frown developed on your face as he continued to stare at the screen in awe, finally beginning to scroll through the songs you’ve chosen to compile together for him. Once his cheeks were no longer tear stained you went back to your original position, sneaking your hand on top of his, squeezing it to grab his attention. He slowly looked to the side to face you, eyes shifting from you and the screen.

“I guess this makes me your best friend.”

He smiles and nods at you, “Yeah, you’re my best friend y/n.”

Your eyes widened at the statement; your breath became rigid as you quickly averted your eyes to the ground. You brought your knees closer to you, wrapping your arms around them and laying your head on top of your knees. Junpei chuckled to himself, he never thought he’d be the one to finally make you flustered.

“Start with Frank Oceans songs.” You said in almost a whisper “I think you’ll like them.”

He started to play the music, sitting back against the tree, bringing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

It felt as if a drum was going through steady rhythm in your chest. The blood flow rushed to the tip of your fingers, your pulse feeling like a wave flowing throughout your body. His hug triggered a rush of adrenaline that shot through you like a drug. Taking three deep breathes you tried your best to compose yourself, finally lifting your heard from your knees to see him. His head was laid against the tree, eyes closed listening to the song that was playing.

The roles finally reversed, Junpei finding peace with his hold on you yet you couldn’t help but feel a nervous wreck at the situation at hand. You wanted to feel comfortable, you wanted to engulf yourself in the music just as he’s doing but for some reason unknown to you, you were just so damn nervous.

Finally bringing your knees down, you looked up at Junpei seeing a relaxed smile on his face, eyes still closed before he opened one after feeling you move around. He gave a slight smirk before closing his eyes again, not letting his grip on you go. Breathless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to relax in that moment, he’s never made that kind of face to you before nor has he ever looked that confident.

Twiddling your thumbs and avoiding looking at his face, you felt a slight guilt creep up on you. Junpei, your now declared best friend, finally looks confident and finally feels comfortable with you, so why did you feel so weird? You remember when you met him, he was easily embarrassed and insecure, even you could tell that, and you’ve just met him. He finally shows a bit of confidence and you felt a foreign feeling – your heart racing, palms sweating, feeling heat flow through your body, what reason did you have to feel so nervous about someone you were so used to be around, unless –

Oh.

Before you let yourself finish that thought, your eyes caught another movie poster sticking out from him bag. Seeing this as your chance to ruin this movement, you quickly reached over him, causing him to jump, as you took out the poster sticking out of his bag.

'Killer Klowns From Outter Space’.

“You’re a big fan of movies, aren’t you?” You said as you hesitantly looked him in the eye. Just because you were a nervous wreck internally doesn’t mean you had to act on it, you thought to yourself.

He gave you a closed eye smile before responding, “Yeah, are you? Do you like horror movies?”

“mmm, no. not really. My mom hates this movie actually. You should invite me over, then we could watch movies together.” You grinned noticing the blush form onto his face before he stuttered out an “okay.”

Finally, the roles going back to how they should be.

--------------------

Your ankle continued throbbing as you dragged yourself through the empty halls of your school. The halls that during the day are filled with laughter and voices became eerily quiet at this time of the day. Everyone occupied in their club activities there was no room for useless roaming within the halls.

Wincing in pain, you begin to regret saying you didn’t need help going to and from the nurse’s office. During cheer practice you fell from the top of the pyramid, hurting your ankles as you fell roughly onto the mat. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t twist your ankle, just rest and it should be fine in a few days.’ The nurse told you. The feeling of your pulsating ankle and how every step felt like needles seeping through your skin, you had a tough time believing that statement.

You began to regret taking the long way back to the club room, wanting to take a detour of the halls before having to be forced to sit and watch your club members until the end of practice, until you heard a voice that was all too familiar with you now.

Sneaking to the door labeled ‘movie club’ where the noise was coming from, you opened it slightly while peeking your head through it. In it, you saw a very excited Junpei speaking to two other boys. He was going on about the complexities of a plot to one of his favorite horror films, The Conjuring, you were guessing based on the plot, but you couldn’t be too sure, you hated horror films.

Then you saw it. His eyes bright with pleasure and contentment, the most genuine wide smile you’ve seen him wear since the moment you’ve met him. You couldn’t pass this up, you quickly brought your phone up and snapped a picture of Junpei smiling. You wanted to snap the picture and make your way back to your club, giving Junpei some free time from you and enjoy the first moment you’ve seen of him and his friends outside of you.

But this was you, and with your luck the flash from your phone was on and caught the attention of the three boys in the room. As all eyes made their way to the door you sheepishly opened it, giving a guilty smile followed by a small giggle.

“Junpei!” you said cheerily to mask the embarrassment you were facing at the moment. “Movie club, huh? It makes sense, you do love your movies.”

“(y/n), what…what are you doing..here..and did you just..did you just – ”

“Sorryyyy” you whined as you made your way to the table they were all seated at, pulling out a chair for yourself, “You just looked so happy! I don’t even think I’ve seen you that excited to talk to me. I wanted to remember that face, you should show it more.” You gushed out.

That caused a gasp from the two club members sitting at each side of you and a frantically embarrassed Junpei.

“Junpei, how do you know (y/n)?” the one with glasses asked shamelessly. His face was familiar, you couldn’t help but intensively stare at him, ignoring the blush on his face due to your gaze.

“You’ve been to my tournaments?” You asked, recalling seeing him in the stands holding a sign with your school name on it. All he could do was gulp and nod as you backed up from him, “thanks for your support!” you chirped.

“You told me you did martial arts….” Junpei tried not to stare at you, your uniform hugging your body tightly. The way your skirt was risen up due to the sitting position and how your top squeezed your chest, it left little to the imagination and Junpei didn��t want to feel like he was disrespecting you. He knew it was just a uniform, but the way it complimented your body, the way your hair was styled for the uniform, along with the sweat from your forehead that was dripping...the sight in front of him was dangerous, you were dangerous.

“Yeah and I got bored. This year I wanted art club, but my mom said my future would be more promising if I stayed in the athletic department.” You explained, “So I decided the sport with the cutest uniform. Don’t you think I look cute, Jun-pei?” you said batting your eyelashes at him, hoping he would look at you the way his club members were. His club members gasped at you of all people flirting with their club president, and all Junpei could do was nod his head as he glanced at you for a second, quickly switching his view from you to the movie he was holding on his hand.

“I should go. I bet they’re waiting for me. I wish I was in a club like this, you all seem so relaxed.” You brought your body up, stretching before you pushed the chair back into the original position. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your club when I don’t feel like being in mine, Jun-pei.” You sang out before dragging yourself out of the room.

“How the fuck did you manage to get so close to y/n?”

-------------------------------

For the first time, it was Junpei who was waiting for you outside of the club gates. Normally if you weren’t already there, he would walk home alone and just see you in class the next day or you would chase him in the halls, whining about how he didn’t eat with you the day before.

He didn’t miss how the fresh colors of the sky brushed upon your skin as he saw your figure making its way towards him. It hits him – seeing you walk towards him with what’s left of the sun kissing your skin, this is what he’s been missing out on while leaving you to walk alone? You grin as you make your way towards him, your usual skip replaced with you wobbling to him. He noticed you coming towards him carrying a box of chocolates and a letter, you just got another confession. It would have been your tenth one this week, not as if he was counting or anything.

Every time he experienced you carrying gifts along with love letters, every time eyes would linger the two of you in the hall, and the dirty looks you seemed to miss when leaving your group of friends to be with him, his self-doubt would whisper harsh words in his brain: what did you even see in him?

“I think this is the first time you’ve waited for me! About time.” You said linking your arm around his.

“You got another one.”

“Yeah, this time from Shota.” You missed the way Junpei winced at the name you just said. His arm unlinked with yours, staying in place as you still walked forward before stopping. You turned to him with a questioning look.

“What..um..what do you think of him?”

“He’s kind of scary.” You admitted, “I feel like his personality is fake. His smile has a bit of a sinister undertone, don’t you think? I mean, we’re in the same circle so I tolerate him. I wouldn’t call him my friend though.”

“You deserve better friends. Yours are jerks.” He spat out, not even realizing the word vomit coming from his mouth. “You reject all these guys…you could have whoever you wanted. Why?”

You brought your hand to your chin, squinting your eyes deep in thought. You never truly thought about why you rejected the confessions you would get; you just knew that you didn’t want them.

“Most of the guys who confess to me are a bit much, I guess you could say. Too aggressive, too competitive, not really on the sweet side. Makes sense, I’m an athlete so naturally I’m surrounded by them and those are common traits in the most successful athletes, I guess.”

Finally, as if a light went off in your head you gave off a wide smile to Junpei at your new discovery.

The reflection of dawn hit you, Junpei saw you as an angel in the very moment. The orange-gold glow bouncing off your body, your eyelashes reflecting the light being given to you by the sky, you were glowing and your sweet voice sounding like honey as you said,

“I like very kind, considerate men…and of course, cute. Now that I think about it, my type sounds a lot like you, doesn’t it?”

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#junpei x reader #junpei yoshino #junpei x yn #junpei yoshino x reader #junpei jjk #junpei jujutsu kaisen #junpei fluff

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whisperlullaby · 4 years ago

Text

Just Say It And I’m Yours-Ch.1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language, stalking ish themes

Words: 1490

Summary: Steve is considering retiring from being Captain America. He doesn’t remember why he took the shield or what it means for him anymore. Then he met you.

A/N: First and foremost I am SO SORRY FOR BEING SO SHIT AT SUMMARIES. I just don’t want to give anything away. Second, this is my first series! So like, comment, reblog, let me know you want to see more of this. This story is going to start in Steve’s perspective and switch to the readers. I’ll let you guys know when the POV is shifting so no worries. So, this first chapter is told through Steve. Third, if I missed any warnings please let me know. Last but most CERTAINTLY not least, a very VERY special thanks to @river-soul for reading through this and assuring me it was a good first chapter. I am so grateful for you. Let me know what you think! (Gif by @navybrat817 )

“Steve, she's getting married tomorrow,” Bucky solemnly states as he puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “If you’re going to do something you better do it soon.”

“I know Buck, but what could I say to her? I haven’t been able to tell her how I feel about her for years.” Steve looked out over the lake, his eyes pricking with tears. “She made her decision.”

“You’re an idiot. You’ve been in love with her since you first saw her. If you don’t tell her, she’s going to make the biggest mistake of her life. We both know that,” Bucky sighed, raking a hand over his face. “I know she loves you. You need to talk to her. She can’t marry him Steve, you know the second she does she’ll be gone forever. The person you knew reduced to, whatever this shell of a person is.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and looked down where the water was gently lapping against the shore. After a few moments, he heard Bucky make his way back to the lodge. As the small waves ebbed and flowed against the shallow shore Steve thought about you and how he was an absolute coward back when you were a big part of his life.

One and a half years ago

Steve was sketching at Marine Park in Brooklyn during golden hour when everything seemed to glow. He needed a break from his Captain America responsibilities and every time he put his charcoal to the paper everything seemed to melt away. The world was vastly different since he came out of the ice and he felt his heart swell thinking about all the fights he had to endure in order to restore some semblance of peace in the universe. He was happy that he had his best friend back, cleared of the mind control Hydra put in him and he made so many new friends and a family in The Avengers. Yet, as he drew out the skyline on the thick white paper, he couldn’t help but feel like he was still missing something. He knew he needed a break from his duties to figure it out constantly being pulled into a fight was a great distraction, but he knew he needed to figure out what brought meaning to his life. The decision to take time off gnawed at Steve like a dog to a bone, who was he if he wasn’t Captain America?

Steve heard you before he saw you, picking up the fierce tone you were using made him glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of your reprimand. Steve looked up to see you wedged in between a woman and her dog and a man probably twice your size towering over you, trying to be intimidating. The fact you stepped forward refusing to back down made Steve smile, oddly fond of your bravery. The commotion you were making drew a small crowd and Steve felt a strange pull to join the group to be close to you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Following this poor woman around like a stalker,” You yelled, poking your finger in his chest. “Did you think she was being coy when she told you to stop following her? Was that some deranged invitation to keep on top of her the rest of the world is unaware of?”

Steve could tell that you were not about to back down as you protected the other woman. The fire in your eyes was something Steve was familiar with in himself before he went into the ice. He noticed the man ball his hands into fists and before you could react he had pulled back to hit you. Steve jumped in and caught the punch, inches from your face.

“You’re gonna want to walk away pal before you make things worse for yourself.”

Steve’s voice was low in warning. When he glanced over at you, you looked up at him almost offended that he had stepped in. Before Steve could say anything you returned your gaze to the other man and swiftly kneed him in the balls.

“Stop following women you fucking asshole,” you admonished as the man crumpled to the ground in pain. “I know you probably have a hard time listening to women when they say no because there is just a bunch of empty space where your brain is supposed to be, but maybe take this as a warning.”

Steve watched you slack jawed as you flagged down a police officer to give a statement to. He observed you as you spoke with the other woman, who was visibly shaken by the incident, with such genuine concern and kindness. He couldn’t stop looking at you as you soothed her with gentle touches and quiet whispers. Steve waited for his turn to speak with the officers regarding the incident, after which the man was taken into custody. When Steve turned around you were walking towards him.

“Umm thanks for catching the punch,” you said with a shrug. “I could have taken him though.”

Steve let out a soft chuckle.

“Well I wouldn’t be much of a superhero if I stood around and let a civilian get clocked for defending someone.”

You cocked your eyebrow at him and crossed your arms.

“Yeah but you’re not in the suit, which means you’re off duty. Either way I’m grateful, I have a job interview tomorrow and can’t really show up with a black eye. It wouldn’t really say ‘hire me I’m even tempered and have a keen ability to moderate conflict in a calm respectful manner.’ ”

Steve smiled, letting out a sigh as he cast his eyes to the ground.

“Oh sweetheart I’m always on duty, comes with the territory.”

He looked up to see you watching him with kindness and understanding.

“I’m sure that must be a very heavy burden to carry,” You sighed. “I hope you can take a vacation or something soon. It looks like you might need one.”

To say Steve was enamored by you would be the understatement of the century. In the brief time he had spent with you, he had noticed that you were fierce, kind, honest, compassionate, and absolutely stunning. He found himself physically having to shake his head to keep from staring at you.

“I’m Steve,” he blurted out. “I feel like you already know that though. It was really nice of you to say that. Sometimes I only see myself as Captain America, no vacation days in sight.”

Steve chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Y/N, and I mean it. You shouldn’t feel like you’re always on duty.”

You pointed your finger at his chest.

“Besides, I’m a tough girl, I can handle myself. You should trust people a bit more Rogers.”

You gave Steve a cheeky grin and started walking away.

Steve scrambled to follow you, not ready to have your conversation end.

“So, job interview? What do you do?”

Steve easily kept your stride. When you chuckled Steve swore his heart skipped a beat.

“Would you believe I’m a victim advocate? I have an interview with the state prosecutor. I make sure anyone who has experienced trauma of any sort is represented and protected during court cases and criminal trials,” you stated proudly.

“After what I just witnessed, I would have been more surprised if you told me you were an accountant.” Steve joked. “Would it be okay if I walked you wherever you’re going? I know you can handle yourself but I’d like to make sure you don’t leave a trail of broken men in your wake.”

You snorted out laughter.

“Yeah wouldn’t want to get put away for attacking more skeezy men. That sounds great Captain, thank you.”

Steve smiled and kept asking you questions on your walk. He had this need to know everything he could about you since you blew into his life like a sunshower. When Steve got you back to your apartment the sun was just setting.

“Well Rogers, it’s been an interesting day,” you say, nonchalantly fiddling with your keys.

“I’ll say, I didn’t think my day would consist of watching someone stand up for another woman who almost got punched, then kneeing the guy in the balls.”

Steve smiled.

“I am pleasantly surprised with the way my day turned out,” he told you.

“Well there’s a lot more where that came from if you stick with me Cap.”

You smirked at Steve grabbing his sketchbook.

“Here’s my number, if you ever need a little extra adventure in your life, call me,” you said.

With that you turned the key in the lock and pushed yourself inside the apartment. Steve was left to stand staring at your closed door. He didn’t know what force drove you into his life but knowing you for those few hours made him feel more alive than he had in years.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #marvel fic #marvel #captain america x reader

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docholligay · 3 years ago

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The Green Knight: A Ramble Through the Field of Honor

So I talked in an earlier post very glancingly about the line “Why greatness? Is goodness not enough?” and how it fits into the idea that Gawain has no idea what true greatness looks like, and I think, dovetailing into that, we kind of have to talk about how Gawain is...not a great guy.

And I’m not even talking about the way we begin the movie with him in a brothel, though I am going to use that to spring off here and talk about his conduct toward Essel. Knightly stories are full of these ideas of chivalry particularly around women, and I think Lowery is using Essel to make the point that Gawain is not doing that, not even remotely. Essel is a working girl, sure, but she’s also, as its shown throughout the movie, devoted to him, and cares for him far beyond his ability to provide for her. She even tells him that she has his gold, when she asks to be his lady, but she wants very simple things--to sit by his side at the fire, and have his ear, and be his lady. In full fairness to Gawain, I suppose, he never pretends even for a moment that he has any intention of doing that. Gawain is not interested in whatever he might owe her, because in seeking his greatness he utterly passes by this goodness.

We see this again in “A Kindness” where he repeatedly tells the scavenger that he is “Just passing through” when asked if he is a knight, not dodging the question, exactly, but allowing the scavenger to think this untrue thing. The scavenger talks about how he has brothers out there, the wide field of bodies like the fallen trees, showing us the lumber that Camelot is built upon, but Gawain does not have a moment for sympathy or pause. He fails to see this kid as a human being, and the narrative allows us to glance over it too, fixated in the same way Gawain is on the destination and not the journey.

Even when he is given instructions about how to get to the Green Chapel, when it’s been shown he has only the roughest sketched ideas of the way--and we can argue that the instructions may be false, but I’m not sure I think it matters--all he offers this scavenger, this BOY, is his thanks, despite being told he’s lost his family, was almost lost himself. He has to be shamed into offering a single coin, when Excalibur itself was offered to him when he needed the help.

This goes back to the idea of a test, and of Gawain’s repeated failures to have honor, to be great. He can’t see that mercy and generosity are a part of what it means to be a knight, to bear that mantle of goodness that I would argue underlies the knightly ideal.

This is why, when he’s captured and his things taken from him, he asks for the GReen Chapel and is told, “You’re in it.” This is a test as surely as kneeling before the Knight himself, and he’s failed, not only the test of generosity, but of courage, as he pleads with them that he’s not a knight, and he never said he was, and it’s true, that he isn’t, and so he’s stripped of all the trappings that make him a knight--his horse, his arms, his shield--because if he will not behave a knight, if he will not meet the world with the courage and honor he’s meant to have, then he may as well have none of it at all.

Gawain is pretty much a world-class fuckboy until the Tale of St. Winifred, until he truly connects with the natural impulse within him in the form of the fox (More on this in a much longer later post)

The tale of St. Winifred is his chance to begin his redemption, really the first time that he’s been willing to take any real instruction on the nature of becoming a knight--he sure as shit could not be bothered to listen to Arthur--and so this is where he earns back the axe. He earns back the right to even have this quest in the first place.

I don’t know how much the audience knows about the tale of St. Winifred, but the details are changed from the usual telling of the story in order to support the themes of the film. St. Winifred is also, in one sense, a tale of beheading and of virtue. That in upholding her ‘purity,’ she lost her life and her head. This is why I think it’s not actually a foregone conclusion that Gawain is spared at the end--I think Lowery makes the point that sometimes our values must be paid for in blood.

The flexible nature of honor is addressed directly in Winifred’s story. From the beginning, when she tells him not to touch her, that “a knight should know better,” there’s a sort of restarting the clock on his ability to be that knight. He just failed the last test, but as people, we are not who we are in one moment, whether that is terribly virtuous, or terribly cowardly, but the accumulation of who we are in all the moments. Each story is the chance to start again, and that’s why you’ll see so much menton of his being a knight at the start of each ‘section.’ It’s his chance to begin this anew.

In that way of, just tell the audience what’s going on, when Winifred is telling her story, of a man who came and desired to lay with her, and says, ‘Perhaps he was thee,’ that’s not just speaking to the sense of circles and repetition of nature in the movie--though not unrelated--but the idea that Gawain could be that man, could still, in a sense, choose to be that man. That he can always fail this test, too.

“If I go and get it, what will be my reward?”

It takes you aback, just for a moment, when he asks her that, until we realize that we were all asking ourselves that too. Reading into the traditions behind knights and saints, I think we’re used to the idea that a boon will be received for dong the right thing, and Lowery asks us to evaluate all that in Winifred’s reply:

“Why would you ask me that? Why would you ever ask me that?”

Harkening back to when he didn’t give the kid more than just a single coin, and telling him, “my thanks”--does he really have the right to ask for such a thing when he couldn’t manage to reward kindness himself-- but also the idea that honorable tasks should be taken up for their own sake, and not in order to have a reward. Can you truly be said to be acting with chivalry and honor if you’re doing it for a reward, or even notoriety?

Going back to my larger theory that Lowery is trying to bring forth the idea in all of this that there is no such thing as being a “knightly” sort of person at rest, while still holding that the decisions of a moment can cement the sort of person we continue to be, it makes sense that he would ask if we can say Gawain passes this test, if Winifred regards him.

“Now I can see thee,” she says, because this is a baptism of sorts, and being a saint, she can only see a soul in clarity. This is the direct opposite to the moment that Arthur tells him he has mud on his face, this is in direct opposite to his behavior with Essel, this is him doing the right and kind thing for a woman, without a thought to reward, and in that, he is cleaned, and Winifred can see what’s underneath, the sort of man he can be under what he’s accumulated.

ANd this is why he gets back the axe. It gives him leave to continue his quest, even though just a bit earlier, when asked where he was going, he simply said, “home.” But the show of the axe let him know that honor was not yet lost to him, that there was still a chance to be the sort of person he might have been.

WHich, by the way, does not makes things clear to him still. Life is not that simple, and I am very very resolute on my idea that a lot of what this movie is about is about the journey of our own lives to meet death and live with honor inasmuch as we can overcome our own cowardice and shitty behavior to do so, and even at the end of it all, about to meet the Green Knight, asked why he’s doing it, expressing that honor is why a knight does what he does, and then, pressed, says:

“Honor is a part of the life I want.”

This is Lowery pretty firmly taking aim at the old Arthurian texts, wherein honor very often good be a sole raison d’etre, saying that for most of us--and I would argue the whole reason Gawain is a fuck up is that he’s meant to represent most of us--that isn’t enough. There needs to be something more.

I also don’t think, for all I’ve talked about tests, that Gawain’s cowardice with the Green Knight had to be the end of the story. I think Essel’s pregnancy, and his cruelty, was a test. I think lying about what happened in the Green Chapel and accepting a knighthood was a test. I think there are multiple tests in that little interlude, but you see, the problem is, the more you do something, the more you’ll do it. As he makes these choices, this more and more becomes the man he is, as these choices stack up like stones, it gets harder and harder to knock down that wall. This is why his green sash--his cowardice--has become a physical part of him by the end of that interlude, bleeding as he draws it out.

Honor isn’t set, and it isn’t enough. Life is a confusing journey, rife with difficulty to do the right thing with consistency not because of outside influence so much as ourselves. Gawain’s great antagonist in al of this is not the Green Knight, but himself. Such as it is for all of us, as we TRY to be good people, and risk sometimes redefining honor, or greatness, what it means to be “a knight” in order to convince ourselves that it might be true.

“Is this all there is?” Gawain asks, before the axe is laid down, and I want to give Dev Patel a lot of credit here, though I’ve mostly been focusing on imagery and story. I’m not sure this would work as well if he hadn’t made it feel quite as human as it does, when he says it. It’s the question I think all of us ask, as we contemplate our own deaths, our own struggles to even up with what was right. Is there no way of knowing what comes next?

Life is a series of tests. A measure of honor. And what else ought there be?

On Doc and The Green Knight

#Green Knight shit #hi please enjoy two thousand words where I'm still not sure I said all I wanted to

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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago

Text

All About Eavesdropping - Loki x Reader - Words: 1,835

“You want us to what?” You yelled.

“I need you and Elsa here to go to Greenland for about a month,” Tony said. You stared at him from across his worktable in his lab.

“Why in Valhalla would we need to do that, Stark?” Loki retorted. “And don’t call me Elsa.” Tony had called the two of you in there right after breakfast saying that he had a very important job for you. This, however, did not seem to be all that special.

“For purely scientific purposes, of course,” He replied, mouthful of blueberries.

“And those would be?” You sighed, facedesking.

“The new winter stealth suits I designed. I need them tested in the field. I’ve run as many lab tests as possible but,” Tony shrugged. “Field tests are absolutely necessary. Everything you’ll need is either in these boxes or in the house in Greenland. If you want to take any other personal stuff you’ll want to grab it before you leave.”

“And you think we’re the best for the job?” You asked.

“He’s already a popsicle so if it gets too cold he can deal with it and you can heal yourself or him anyway,” Tony said like it was the most logical thing in the world. Loki tensed at his words but didn’t say anything about it.

“Fine,” Loki grunted. He grabbed the box Tony had marked for him and headed for the doors.

“You leave at 6! Don’t be late!”

“I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, Stark,” Loki sassed before finally stalking out.

“Have fun!” Tony grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“First of all, perv. Second of all, ain’t gonna happen!” You replied. “Why are you doing this? This whole thing is a direct attack on a part of him he doesn’t like to address!”

“Well I figured he has to grow up one day and deal with it. We all have inner demons to fight. I figured I’d help him.”

“A bit not good there, Sherlock.” Tony snorted in laughter and shook his head.

“Would you rather I send him with Steve?” Your eyes widened comically.

“Nope!” You exclaimed, popping the p. “I think we’ll do just fine.” You grabbed your box and headed out as well.

By 6 o'clock, the two of you were flying out on one of Tony's jets. "So, what do you think of the new suits?" You asked Loki, trying to make some conversation.

"They are no match for true Asgardian leather and would be greatly improved by at least a cape," He replied sounding rather bored.

"Oh," You said. "How exactly are we to be testing the suits again? I forget what Tony said."

"He said nothing, darling. It was all in his infernal little packet." You blushed lightly at the pet name and nodded.

"Alright, well, I guess I'm just going to," You paused, unsure of what to do. It was obvious Loki was not interested in conversation but there wasn't much to do on the jet. "I'm just going to sit over there," You said, getting up quickly and moving to the other side of the jet. The rest of the flight was quiet, Loki only speaking up to alert you that you were about to land.

"Surely the man of iron could not possibly want us to stay here," Loki said, getting out and seeing the small house.

"Maybe it's bigger on the inside," You said hopefully. Gathering your few things, you both headed in. "Oh this is so much worse," You groaned. The large main room consisted of the dining and living rooms and the kitchen. However, it was very sparsely decorated. You could see a stack of groceries in the kitchen along with a note. Loki wandered off to explore the bathroom and bedrooms, you assumed, while you read the note.

"Find anything of interest?" Loki called out, surprising you.

"Just that Tony said if we didn't like the food or somehow ran out there's a grocery store about 10 miles away."

"And just how does he expect us to go there?" Loki yelled, getting increasingly frustrated.

"The note says our transportation is out back." You walked down the small hallway to the back door and looked outside. Stifling a laugh you called out, "Hey, Loki! I think your ex is here!"

"My who?" Loki replied, very confused. "I have no 'exes', as you call them, on Midgard." You smirked and moved aside so Loki could look. When he saw what was in the backyard, a strange look crossed over his face. "Run," He said in a dangerously calm voice.

"I beg your pardon?" You replied.

"Run if you don't want to lose your phone," He smirked back. You laughed but you did take off running. He chased you back out to the main room but you ran out the front door. "Don't think you can escape me!" He called out.

"Wanna bet?" You called back, running to the backyard. You quickly jumped on one of the two horses you had seen and took off.

"Oh, you'll regret saying that, my dear," Loki grinned, getting on the other horse and taking off after you.

The next few days continued in a similar pattern. There wasn't much to do so you and Loki would often spend your time exploring the woods behind the house or riding the horses or just talking. Loki had warmed up to you quite a bit, pun intended, and you were quite happy. Of course, you recorded the events of each day in your diary. Well, it was less of a diary and more of a collection of special moments you wanted to remember and sketches you'd made. You had just finished writing today's events when you heard a loud clatter and Loki call you from the kitchen.

"Y/N!" He said. "Can you come here please?" You quickly put your notebook in the nightstand drawer and hurried out to the kitchen.

"What in the world happened, Loki?" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. Loki was laying on the floor, covered in a mixture of flour and eggs it seemed, with various cups and bowls around him.

"I was attempting to reach a mixing bowl on the top shelf when I slipped on an egg and pulled the shelf down," He admitted.

"You're telling the truth!" You gasped, openly chuckling at the situation now.

"Of course, love! I couldn't lie to you." You blushed brightly, as he often made you do with those pet names.

"Uh, well," You stuttered. "Why don't you go wash up and I'll finish," You paused, glancing around. "Whatever you were making."

"I was attempting to make breakfast," He grinned. "But I think I should make myself clean instead, hm?"

"Yes, you should," You smirked. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you were greying early."

"You-" He exclaimed, standing quickly. For a moment you thought he was truly angry, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He reached onto the counter and threw a handful of flour at you before running off to the bathroom. You laughed, dusted yourself off, and got to work on breakfast.

About an hour later, he came back out and sat across you at the counter. "Your breakfast, my prince," You smiled, presenting him his plate. He smiled and you ate in silence for a time.

"I've been reading a lot lately," He commented.

"Mhm," You replied, mouthful of syrupy pancakes.

"The last book I read had some rather interesting sketches in it too."

"Really?" You asked, truly interested. "I love art. Can you show it to me?" You took a large gulp of milk as he replied.

"My dear," He said, setting down his fork. "I read your diary." You coughed, almost choking on your ill-timed drink.

"You what?" You screeched. "How dare you invade my privacy like that and-"

"Don't you care to know what I thought?" He interrupted.

"Why? So you can laugh at me, oh Mr. High-and-" He cut you off by leaning over the counter and kissing you earnestly. "Oh, that's nice," You said once you pulled away.

"Just nice?" He smirked. "I guess I'll have to work on that." He kissed you once more before you pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"I just remembered something!" You gasped.

"What's wrong?" You quickly pulled out the pamphlet Tony had made you about the suit testing. You then gestured to a paragraph under a subheading of RECORDING ANY AND ALL TEST RESULTS

ALL TEST RESULTS MUST BE RECORDED BY THE TESTERS USING THE STEPS LISTED. TO ENSURE NOTHING IS MISSED, HOWEVER, THE HOUSE WILL ALSO BE UNDER 24/7 SURVEILLANCE TO TRACK ANY UNRECORDED RESULTS.

OUTSIDE - AUDIO/VIDEO

INSIDE - AUDIO ONLY

Loki grinned and leaned into you, lips brushing against your ear. He whispered something and you giggled. "Loki!" You gasped. "We can’t do that here!"

"Oh, yes," He purred. "We can do it anywhere we want if we're creative enough."

"But outside is so much more exciting," You grinned. "So," you paused, struggling to find the right word. "Freeing!"

"Please do not do anything outdoors where I can see!" You heard a loud voice yell. You both quickly realized it was coming from the monitoring system.

"Steve? Is that you?" You called back with a chuckle.

"Yeah, Tony insisted I take a turn on guard duty," He grumbled. "Look, I'm sorry I interrupted," He paused awkwardly. "Whatever you were doing but could you please not do it outside? Outside has cameras." Loki laughed loudly and you did too.

"We really didn't mean to prank you, Cap. I thought Tony was on the other end of that mic."

"I however have no objections to how this turned out," Loki added. You whacked him arm lightly and shook your head. "Truthfully, though, we were only speaking of testing another aspect of the suit. I whispered to Y/N my idea and-"

"I get it," Cap replied quickly. You couldn't see him but you could tell he was embarrassed. "I'll make you two a deal. Behave yourselves, finish the tests, and get home early and I'll help you prank Tony here in the tower. Ok?"

"You have yourself a deal, Captain," Loki grinned.

"Alright. I'm going to take a nap now. Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh we won't," Loki smirked, wrapping his arms around you and planting light kisses on your neck.

"Loki!" You squealed.

"Do you want to prank Tony or not?" Steve yelled. "I can't see you but I can hear you! And that didn't sound like suit testing. Get to work! If you do as you're supposed to, you'll be done in a week."

"Yes, sir," You both grumbled. Loki, ever the mischief maker, wasn't about to let up. He grabbed a towel and twirled it, smacking your backside with it as you walked away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

"Loki, did you just-"

"For purely scientific purposes, I assure you," He replied. Steve groaned in frustration.

"This is gonna be a long week."

Loki Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@serpentargo

@khena

@nyx2021

@kaz11283

@weasley-main-lover

@up-to-mischief

@lokislittlesigyn

Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

@lokislittlesigyn

#loki #loki oneshot #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x reader #marvel #avengers

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hotpinkhoshi · 4 years ago

Text

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth.

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense.

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him.

“Yeah.”

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective.

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?”

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused.

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.”

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended.

Youngjae snorted.

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows.

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most.

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice.

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.”

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next.

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months.

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.”

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction.

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face.

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.”

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?”

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.”

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?”

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled.

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could.

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal.

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours.

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud.

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do.

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance.

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse.

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun.

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.”

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-”

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?”

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for.

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.”

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up.

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…”

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up.

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed.

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.”

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom.

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-”

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not.

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat.

“Same for me,” Mark agreed.

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!”

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh.

“What?” you asked.

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back.

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks.

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down.

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.”

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them.

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds.

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more.

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.”

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.”

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line.

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed.

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world.

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was.

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes.

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first.

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?”

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.”

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone.

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.”

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch.

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.”

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked.

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents.

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him.

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure.

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?”

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it.

“Both of us. Just trust me.”

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him.

“I’ll even go first,” you told him.

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion…

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask.

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask.

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…”

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought.

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?”

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…”

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding.

“Okay.”

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!”

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times.

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!”

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists.

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist.

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek.

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing.

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder.

“Mark! Stop it!”

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away.

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs.

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you.

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest.

“Y/N,” Mark whispered.

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled.

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch.

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat.

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could…

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing.

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this.

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin.

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise.

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before.

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.

Maybe he had a sixth sense.

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet.

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice.

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left.

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him.

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard.

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night.

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