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#or if these pieces here actually make it into the final draft
forechoes · 1 year
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WIP Word Search Tag Game
Tagged by @sctirs! Thank you so much for letting me play!!
Rules: Search for the words given by whomever tagged you within your wip(s) and post them for us to see! Then tag as many people as you want and give them five words to find in their works.
pour
No wips found for this one:(
shiver
He doesn’t know, and the fact sends chills shivering down his bones.
“Kim Dokja?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice is faint. He turns to find the prince scanning him. “What is it, Kim Dokja?”
sweet
Something bubbles within him. It’s sweet. It’s like something easing up in him, just knowing that he’s here, with his brother. Loved.
attempt
Han Yoojin nearly smacks his face against the annoyingly clean bathroom wall in his attempt to get to his feet. He needs to see Yoohyun—even if it’s just his name. He needs to see him beyond ink and bright lights projected behind a screen.
snap
His brother cups his cheek, his fingers splayed on his skin. He treats him like he’s fragile, but all Han Yoohyun feels is dangerous. He knows he can snap that wrist in two if he tried.
Han Yoohyun looks into his brother’s eyes—stares at his reflection in the clear sight of them—and then closes his own.
Unfortunately, I think everybody I wanted to tag has already been tagged, but I did love looking for these words! For anyone who wants to do this, or just wants to see whether these words are in your wips, here are the five I’ve chosen: curb, quibble, question, ponder and happier.
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magentagalaxies · 6 months
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in an unexpected turn of events i'm having to edit down the content in my aubrey monologues so that i can actually fit all four of them in my final performance for my standup class and on the one hand it sucks bc i really love some of the jokes i have to cut but on the other hand someday i'll be able to write more monologues and possibly expand upon this cut material so i can get a whole monologue on a topic that would've just been an aside
#the actual standups in my class who have only ever done a tight five having to stretch their new material to fit the 20 minute final#vs me‚ an extremely extra fag who's used to writing full-length scripts‚ realizing the 3 monologues i've timed already add up to 20 min#and i'm working on a fourth one that works better as an opener than any of the existing pieces so it has to get in#(it'll be short tho i'm making sure of it. it's just like ''here's some material about aubrey's relationship to zir mom!'')#(then immediate segue into the uncle reg bit)#got the catcalling monologue down to 5 minutes and 30 seconds when the first draft was nine minutes#(tbh i'm fine with most of those cuts i think they were mostly filler)#(there's a bit about androgyny that i liked that i cut but tbh it doesn't work as just one paragraph it needs more nuance)#the uncle reg monologue is having the ''dumped at the pride parade'' thing trimmed down which is funny bc that was the original premise#tbh i could probably stretch my toronto pride material ft. uncle reg to a full 20 minutes bc the first stream of consciousness was so long#i wrote it right after i myself got back from toronto pride and tbh i actually wrote it as the outline for a sitcom episode#so the monologue version is very reduced down bc there were so many details that didn't fit in#and i'm realizing the material about the person who dumped aubrey should be its own monologue that i'll do another time#and maybe even add in the rest of the sitcom-style story at some point bc tbh that's some of my favorite aubrey material i've come up with#and the cishetman monologue is getting the intro part about facetime trimmed a bit bc it meanders#and the ''sugar and spice and everything nice'' joke is being cut even tho i like it bc i actually have a ton more material in my notebook#that's just me riffing on how weird those expressions are. and the material isn't polished but i could make it something later#the song isn't being trimmed bc it has a very specific run time and imo is the strongest. so that's my closer#anyway thank you to everyone reading my aubrey updates i'll be sure to post the final 20-minute-special on youtube#and i hope i get to do more monologues soon so i can put the other ideas mentioned here (as well as some i haven't) out into the world
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h00f · 3 months
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T4TM (Theseus4TheMinotaur)
lost wax cast bronze, patina & paste wax
2023
(process photos & info under cut <3)
my minotaur boy!! pls click on the photos for higher res! my thesis is focusing on trans men and creatures (how original ik) and this was last semester's final. i spent a lot of time looking at sculptures of the theseus/minotaur story, and yknow? a LOT of them are erotic! i'm pretty sure i saw some of them on tumblr a decade ago, and that's led to this now!
as you'll notice, the minotaur has a big t-dick! i wanted to give him breasts and an enlarged clitoris to present a very masculine trans figure. the boy on the bottom is also trans because i say so . the piece is about looking up to older, bigger, hairier trans men and seeing something awe-inspiring and beautiful. the minotaur was locked up by a cruel father for being different, and i think modern adaptations tend towards a sympathetic asterion (his name in one version)
making this piece was. so much effort. it took me about 3 months to get it all together - from clay model (plasticine) to 3D print to silicone mold to wax cast, and finally bronze pour into the shell mold. and then a TON of filing, sanding, dremel-ing, and various other metalworking techniques that probably took years off my life.
i started with sketches and made theeeeeee ugliest model ever:
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then used a 3D scanner to get it digital, then spent a goooood month or two making him pretty in blender! then i spent an agonizing few weeks trying to get it print-ready, and fiiiiiinally did
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^^^ an early resin printed draft of the model - you can see in the final that i added lots to theseus after some feedback, but sadly the nosering broke off every time i cast it so i just. let that be <3
then came the moldmaking, and then the wax dipping!! the yellow stuff is shell mold (ground up ceramic bits and algae soup, sticks to the wax, then silica sand in varying sizes on top) which gets the wax melted out, and bronze poured in!
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then it's all metalworking, cutting stuff off, and working with hot metal. they don't tell you about all the bronze dust and how annoying it gets wearing a respirator AND goggles. but it is for me health, me boy. here's him all cleaned up before the patina:
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and then i spray him down with various chemicals to make it "patina" (aka rust) in pretty colors. wait a few days, then apply paste wax to seal it and give it that shine!
then we get what you see above!!! the blue was actually unintentional, and i'm still not super sure why it looks that way.. but it's pretty so idc <3
thanks for reading!! if you ever have any bronze/casting questions, don't hesitate to message me! <3
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mayordoi · 9 months
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Happy birthday to the number one princess in the world!! 💖
~from her biggest fans :)
ramble of my scattered thoughts on the piece under cut as usual cuz i love talking 😋
This has been an idea I've been cookin for a while, and it was so cluttered and unlike any other ensemble piece I've made... and I decided I oughta do it anyway. I love Miku, I love Vocaloid, and I wanted to do something really ambitious and crazy for her anniversary. Crazy that she's turning her "canon" age this year TwT
I had the idea floating around since like, May...? And then finally started acting on it around June 18. I'm terrible with deadlines, obvious with how I can never make a silly birthday post in time, so I started wayyyy ahead to make sure I have some room to be lazy lol, especially with an idea as ambitious as this.
This was finished on July 12! So I had to sit on this for an annoying amount of time. Very difficult for someone like me who just wants to talk about everything I'm working on to the masses. But at the very least, that gave me the time to work on the draft for this post.
~~~
Here's some ~behind the scenes~ scribbles leading up to the finished piece!
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Left is the chicken scratch plan i made in my handy dandy notebook (whenever things are getting real and ambitious, i always made a rough ROUGH plan in there. Usually I'd do a rough pass of the full thing, but this was too complicated for me to do traditionally. I majorly benefited from digital tools to make this possible). CyberDiva and CyberSongman were considered, but I ended up cutting them cuz I just didn't feel like drawing them sorry-- (just pretend they're off to the side. They gave Ruby and Clara the pizza lol). Right is the "final" completed sketch (before I decided to include Chika mid-way through coloring and VY1 and VY2 near the finish line). I started by drawing the main "groups" separated on a different canvas so I can plop them into the main canvas for easy rearranging and transforming. However I got lazy and ended up drawing everyone in the bottom right corner directly on the canvas since I liked seeing the big picture of everyone's positions. Y'know.
Almost excluded Chika! But I like her design so much that I just felt like including her last-minute. You win this time, Chika fans. VY1 and VY2 were very close to being cut! I added them when I began doing the banner and thought "eh why not". I figured their non-human designs would be pretty easy to include pushed back in the bg. Ik VY1 is more commonly associated with the fan design, but I referenced the hairpin cuz it was simpler and the fan looked very annoying to draw 😭
Sorry to the fans of many Vocaloids I had to cut because this composition was insane enough as is. I promise I wanted to include fellas like CUL, LUMi and Sachiko 😭 I will admit I was a little biased on who I wanted to include over others. Like, I don't normally care for Bruno and Clara, but I wanted to get some more international 'loids in the mix. Also wanted to stick in the realm of official designs and not fan-designs since, as much as I can appreciate those, are just a whole "wait who is that guy supposed to be" situation I didn't wanna deal with. I also did wanna include even more character references through the balloons, but they ended up being kind of ugly and overcomplicated the BG :,) (Oh, and while this was originally planned to be a Vocaloid-only piece, I did end up including Teto, Neru, and Haku 'cuz those are Miku's besties dude!!! They may not be Officially in the club but they're her girls and it would be criminal to not invite them to her birthday).
Anyway, this project marks the first time I've drawn a lot of Vocaloids. Lily, Piko, Rana, Yuki, Yukari, Miki, Maika, and many more lol. All of 'em I've heard or seen in passing, but now I actually drew them, and some have really cool and fun designs!! I got into a habit of drawing Merli after this since I just love her design for example. And I'll probably be drawing more lol!!
Oh and the last thing I'll add for now!! The cake is indeed made up of various song references!! I wanted to reference the "big four" producers, just absolute icons in Vocaloid history. The pink/black checkerboard is "World is Mine" (Ryo), the crescents on the side is "Rolling Girl" (Wowaka), the smiley faces is "Matryoshka" (Hachi), and the three hearts on the side is "The Vampire" (DECO*27, which is sort of a symbol of his whole Mannequin album tbh). I know "The Vampire" is a bit modern but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head. I'm a fake DECO fan I know 😔 "Matryoshka" was originally going to be referenced in the colors of the candles but believe me it looked like shit so I just went for something else last minute 😭
That's all I have to say!!! Hope you didn't mind the text wall if you made it here. I hope you like it as much as I do!!!! Happy freakin' birthday Miku!!!!
I have to deal with tagging all these characters now for my page,,, in the drafts my tags got cut off after a certain point so I think I'm massively breaching the tag limit 😭 um... I'll figure that out later...
not losing sleep that i can't tag everyone, even for page organization purposes because some characters have pretty generic names and some are a little hard to see in full yknow. If you're one of those people who tag every character in the art piece you reblog... I am very sorry.
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girlkisserr · 2 months
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heres my piece from the Hallowhome Zine! thank you to the mods for giving me this opportunity
Bonus drafts below
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first piece + laid out idea: i wasnt satisfied with it seeing as it felt. empty
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second draft: idea was there but i couldnt make the 3d aspect look nice at all
final is whats posted, and i actually took the palette from here! milk candy specifically, so thank you to OP for that
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boxbug · 7 months
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A Canary’s Final Flight
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My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real
Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)
So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.
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This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.
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So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)
At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)
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And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.
I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.
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(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)
So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!
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Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!
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magolor collab is out!!! here's my piece again, standalone.
process pics and commentary under the cut:
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i chose the prompt of "building merry magoland" for this project! this prompt was a little broader and more encompassing than others, which was exactly what i wanted. i decided to make a memory board in order to cover every aspect of what i thought made up building merry magoland, from drafting plans and construction, making the masks and outfits, testing minigames and more, and finally, grand opening. magolor working with the dees throughout the entire process is my own hc. after spending a lot of time in the clash universe, this is supposed to show him actually seeing the dreamlanders as equals and friends (instead of tools) before actually being forgiven by the main 4 themselves.
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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons Part 3
Keeping the ball rolling after part two, here's Lucifer and reader headcanons as baby gets ever closer to arrival. I think I'll do two more, with the last one detailing the actual birth and dear Lucy welcoming his second child. Thank you for reading and please enjoy!
Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Smut
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- His dedication to soothing your aches and pains grows even faster than they do as you get further along. The wealth of information now available about pregnancy (albeit not of the supernatural variety) initially overwhelms him, but he manages to find what he needs in books about prenatal massage. It doesn't matter where or when pain strikes, he'll be there to roll up his sleeves and work as long as he needs to make sure you're better. He's happy to have a professional masseuse join the palace staff to provide the help you need, but he also just enjoys doing it himself. There's a kind of intimacy he can't explain when it comes to tending his beloved and the body you're growing his child with. It doesn't hurt that his fingers are literally magical.
- He wants the FULL stereotypical expecting-a-baby experience, so yes, he'd love to do some breathing classes with you! The King of Hell might struggle to do anything in public without attracting attention, but he manages to locate a relaxed enough class that the two of you can attend without fear of paparazzi, and he is beyond thrilled from the very first session. There's not much he can offer now and through delivery beyond support, but he intends to give 110%. Pregnant yoga is also not off the table, nor is any activity that lets the two of you bond and enjoy the experience. To a very small extent, he enjoys these sessions because he gets to be seen with you. The Sinners and Hellborn just can't help sneaking an extra look at the King and his expecting lover. He doesn't need to say a word whenever he meets the gaze of someone looking the two of you over, the proud puff of his chest says it all as he lovingly splays a hand on your belly; that's right, I pulled this.
- He wants to brainstorm names right away, and because the two of you elect to be surprised by the birth sex, a very long list of potential selections is drafted for any outcome. His tastes tend to be a bit more old fashioned, but he has a knack for choosing those whose beauty has passed the test of time. His selections are also based on humans that have caught his attention through the ages, for good and bad reasons. Charlie was named after an ancient king, for example, who stood out most to Lucifer because he managed change on a scale few can ever hope to achieve, and change was what he desired for his child above all else. As he follows the naming rule of "two yesses, one no" he listens to all of your suggestions just as eagerly, which over the months results in an increasing long piece of parchment covered in names and notes. Vetoed suggestions are crossed out and he makes a point to note any potential issues with a name in great detail, and while the process is far from streamlined, the two of you have a great deal of fun selecting a final list of favorites.
- Out of everything required to prepare the nursery, selecting baby clothes tends to get him crying from the cuteness most often. He'll hold up potential outfits and try to imagine the baby in them, and while he's got a fantastic sense of fashion, the fabulousity doesn't detract from the adorableness before him. The itty bitty booties, the tiny socks, the cute little onesies... Stars, he's going to have another perfect baby, and since they'll no doubt be as precious as Charlie was... You'll often find him tearing up but beaming in silent thought as he looks over your future child's wardrobe, and he'll always explain himself honestly; he just can't wait to enjoy another round of baby days. If only they didn't go by so quickly...
- Lots of things grow increasingly difficult as you get further along, but he's always up for the challenge of making life easier for you, especially in regards to the bedroom. A baby bump will make certain positions impossible, but that's of little consequence for a man that can bend reality and his own physical form with ease. His capacity for effortless flight makes gravity a non-issue, and where his magic hits its limit, his creativity takes over. Whatever position results in comfort and satisfaction for you will be achieved, and he thinks of plenty to be offered. With his long, forked tongue added to the mix, you need not worry about missing out, no matter how much your middle swells. If anything, he rather enjoys being on the bottom...
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talkdutchtome · 6 months
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Bad Idea Right? - Daniel Ricciardo
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pairing . . . daniel ricciado x reader )
genre . . . smut )
summary . . .it had been three months seen you had seen your ex boyfriend, you had done everything in your power to get over him, so why does it only take daniel to look your way before you’re putty in his hands once again )
song . . . bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo )
warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, choking, rough sex, spitting in mouth, use of the words slut and whore, degradation, face slapping, dacryphilia, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, use of petnames, not proofread )
word count . . . 3200 words )
a/n . . .i'm still pretty new to writing smut so this probably isn't fantastic but i've had it sitting in my drafts half done since guts first came out so i just wanted to get it done )
Haven't heard from you in a couple of months  But I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up  And you're callin' my phone and you're all alone  And I'm sensing some undertone 
The second you saw him across the crowded club, you knew the months of progress and moving on would be for nothing. He looked better than ever, the tight white shirt he wore complemented his tan skin and made you press your thighs together. Daniel Ricciardo ended things with you 3 months ago because your relationship, though full of love, became extremely toxic; with the two of you constantly going through the vicious circle of arguing and then fucking to make up. It hurt to be without him as you truly believed the two of you were meant to be together but after months without him, you had finally started to believe that you could live without him; that was until you walked into a nightclub and found the Australian sat in the VIP section with two absolutely beautiful women sat either side of him.  
Suddenly you were the 22-year-old girl that met Daniel three years ago, immediately transfixed by him and willing to do anything for his attention. You knew he knew you were there, when Max saw you, he waved and called you over, but you just waved and gestured to the bar, telling him that you were getting a drink. Still living in a post-breakup world, you had gotten especially dressed up for tonight; hoping to find someone who would help you forget about the Formula 1 driver who still had a hold on your heart. You wore a lilac lace minidress that hugged your curves tightly, it was brought for you by Daniel, but you didn’t see the need to throw out a perfectly good dress just because of whose money purchased it. Point was, you looked hot as hell and you knew it too, so you didn’t mind going over to the table your ex sat at, only to talk to Max though of course.  
When he saw you walking over, he felt his mouth get dry and annoyingly, his trousers get tight. He had always loved you in that dress and now that he knew he couldn’t have you, you looked even better. He watched you talk to Max, laughing at all his jokes and batting your pretty little eyes at the Dutchman just like you used to at him. He also watched Max’s eyes watching you, he watched his friend practically eye-fuck his ex-girlfriend whilst he sat across from them. The girls sat next to him were now completely forgotten, all Daniel could focus on was you. When Max went up to the bar to get the next round, Daniel knew this was his chance; he scooted around the table until he was sat next to you and began to whisper in your ear.  
“He wants you, you know”  
You scoffed at your ex-boyfriend's words, you and Max may be flirting a little bit, but that’s all it was, not to mention that it was none of his business who wanted you anymore 
“Well maybe I want him to” You whispered back at him with a smirk, expecting that to knock him down a peg or two but instead you saw him smile back at you before taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and starting to write something down. 
“Yeah sure thing, but if you decide that you want to be fucked by someone who will actually make you cum tonight, heres my new address. I'll be waiting.” He told you before putting the piece of paper in your hands before getting up and walking away from you.  
And I pull up to your place on the second floor  And you're standing, smiling at the door  And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men  But I really can't remember when   
You held the piece of paper containing Daniel’s address in your palms as you paced back and forth outside the door to his apartment. You knew this was a bad idea, but you craved him so badly. You had slept with other people since your relationship ended but none of them compared to the way Daniel made you feel, and you didn’t realize just how badly touch starved you were until Daniel whispered those dirty words in your ear and you felt throbbing coming from between your legs. “Fuck it, it’s fine” You spoke aloud before finally knocking on the door. 
Daniel opened the door with a smirk painted on his face, he knew you would cave and follow him home. Seeing his face almost mocking you made you half want to turn around and walk home but half jump on him and let him fuck you senseless. Deciding on the latter, you walked past him into his home. Before you had a chance to say anything you were pressed up against the now closed front door with Daniel’s hand around your neck. 
“What a silly little whore you are, trying to fuck my best friend right in front of me, and in my favorite dress too” He tutted at you, smirking more when you kept quiet, unsure what to respond to the words he had spoken. 
“Do you really think he could fuck you like I can? Like anyone can fuck you like I can?” he asked you again, now starting to apply pressure to your throat with his fingers, you stayed quiet still saying nothing to the man in front of you. Suddenly you felt a sharp pain on your cheek, Daniel had slapped your face. 
“Answer me pretty girl” 
You could have cum right then and there; the issue with all of the sex you had been having post Daniel is that none of them knew how rough you liked it, and to finally have that feeling of a man stood in front of you getting ready to fuck you silly made your pussy quiver with anticipation. 
“No Danny, nobody can fuck me like you can” you responded, looking up to him through your long lashes, giving him the doe eyes that you know he was never able to resist.  
“You look so pretty babygirl” he spoke, bringing his hand away from your neck to your lips. He used his thumb to push your mouth open slightly, you opened it wider, knowing what he wanted. He spat in your mouth before using his hands to close your lips together again 
“Swallow” he ordered and you did without a second thought. You felt his hands move down your body, coming from your mouth, stopping briefly at your tits before they travelled down even further, eventually ending up between your legs. He pushed up your dress to your waist and sunk down to his knees.  
“Oh new panties sweetheart? Did one of your new fucktoys get you these?” 
“Maybe” you retorted at him, but before you could finish the word Daniel had ripped them off, literally 
ripped them off. He smirked at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing that he had gotten you to the point of dripping without even touching you. He pushed his fingers through your folds, running his fingertips harshly across your clit before sinking two fingers straight into your core without giving you a second's warning. The involuntary squeal that left your lips only boosted Daniel’s ego, his smirk growing wider than you thought possible. The pleasure that you felt in the first ten seconds of him thrusting his tattooed fingers inside of you was greater than anything you had felt since the pair of you had broken up. Though just as quickly as he had started touching you, he stopped, leaving you a whimpering mess.  
“Such a slut aren’t you, so desperate for my dick” he taunted you, a low chuckle leaving his lips before he picked you up and threw you across his shoulders. 
“Ahh Danny what the fuck?” you asked, genuinely startled as he began to carry you to his bedroom, before throwing you down onto the bed.  
“Dress off” Daniel said, stood in front of where you laid, his eyes dark and focused on you. You thought about fighting him, to at least make it look like you’re not willing to give in to him too easily, to keep some pride; but the look he gave you sent shivers down your spine, you could feel the slickness building up between your thighs, you needed him, pride be damned. And if you thought Daniels eyes where dark and hungry before, it was nothing compared to the way he looked at you he towered over you on his bed. He looked like a man possessed when you slid off your dress, leaving you covered only by a black lace bralette that was swiftly removed by Daniel anyway. You opened your mouth to beg for him to touch you again, but you were swiftly cut off when his mouth crashed against yours, enveloping you in a earth-shatteringly good kiss that sent your mind swirling. The feeling of his lips against yours was one you would never grow tired of. The way his hands laced into your hair and his knee nudged your legs open made it hard for you to understand why you would ever willingly let this go.  
It was only when you started to grind yourself against his knee that he pulled his lips off of you. The way that he looked down at you as you cried out for him was sinful. His messy chocolate brown hair, his swollen lips turned up in smirk, his eyes usually so bright and happy now dark and stormy, full of lust. Every part of him turned you on more than any guy you had ever known. 
“Please Danny” your voice was horse; you were becoming desperate. 
“Please what Babygirl?” he spoke with a chuckle, he loved having you like this, like putty in his hands.  
“Make me feel good” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, not above trying any trick that would get too closer to cumming. 
Daniel didn’t say anything to your request though, instead he just began pressing kisses on your lips, before slowly bringing his kisses down past your neck and chest, getting closer and closer to the place where you ached for him the most. This process lasted only a few moments, but those teasing moments felt like hours and when his tongue finally found your pussy you honestly felt like you had died and gone to heaven. He licked strips up your slit, savoring the taste of you, the taste that he had missed so much. Your hands found his hair as his lips attached themselves to your clit, the curls wrapping around your fingers as they had done so many times before. The way he sucked at and nibbled your clit made you see stars and you soon felt your first orgasm start to build up, that familiar feeling in your stomach making itself known.  
“Ahh Danny I’m going to cum, please let me cum” you begged him, although if he said no, you weren’t sure you would be able to avoid it anyway.  
“Sure, Babygirl you can cum all over my tongue, do you think Max could make you cum this hard” His words annoyed you, bringing up Max at this point was not necessary but before you could complain to him, he picked up the pace of his tongue and you quickly found yourself reaching climax, a string of profanity falling from your lips as you did so. The sounds you were making were music to Daniel’s ears, sounds that he wished he could hear for the rest of his life. If Daniel’s ego wasn’t big enough already, the way he had you falling apart in just a few minutes made his pride swell. You could walk away from him, pretend that you’d moved on and don’t want him anymore; but it’s him who knows your body better than you do, it’s him who knows exactly how to give you what you need to make your knees weak.  
Once he had made you feel good, he turned his attention to himself. The way you tasted, the way you sounded; you were his kryptonite, and he was becoming so hard that it had started to become painful. His rock-hard dick straining against his jeans made your mouth water, it had been far too long since you had felt the sting of him splitting you in half, and you didn’t want to wait any longer; so, when you saw him reach for his belt you felt your pussy quiver with anticipation. 
“Are you going to let me fuck you baby?” he asked as he began to pull his jeans down, revealing his grey boxers, damp from the way his cock had been seeping with precum. His underwear didn’t last long as they were the next thing to be removed, his length red and angry with how hard it was, how desperate for your touch it was. It had only been three months since you had last had him, but in that time, you had somehow forgotten just how big he was; it made you nervous, but it also made you that much more desperate to have him inside of you.  
“Yes, Danny please fuck me” At your words of conformation, he roughly manhandles you to flip you onto your stomach. You prop yourself up on your hands and knees immediately on instinct; you knew how he liked to fuck you, and you also knew that if you did what he wants than you’re more likely to be allowed to cum around his dick.  
“You’re such a good girl aren’t you baby; you know just how I want you don’t you” His hands fall to your ass, groping it and massaging it; savoring every moment of having you spread out in front of you, for all he knew this could be the last time that he has you like this so he was damn well going take his time.  
“What’s the safe word sweet girl?” he asked you as he runs his hands across your body, wanting to feel all of you.  
“Mclaren, please Danny, just fuck me I need you so bad” 
Without warning he plunges two of his fingers deep inside of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure ringing throughout your body. He pumped them inside of you roughly and without care, the sting from just his fingers stretching your cunt out making your eyes water and you felt that oh so familiar feeling of another orgasm creeping up on you embarrassingly fast, however that was all taken away when Daniel abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine; feeling empty from the loss of contact. That emptiness didn’t last for long though, because just as soon as he took his fingers out of you, he slammed his cock into you.  
Your cries filled the air and tears began to fall from your eyes as Daniel picked up his pace, still slamming himself inside of you despite your discomfort. His hand reaches around to grab your neck, pulling you up flush against his chest so he can see your face as he continues to wreck you. 
“You look so pretty when you cry you know that, such a pretty little slut” as he speaks his hand finds your clit, rubbing it harshly. The pain starts to subside as you get used to having him inside of you again and it is quickly replaced by insane pleasure. The groans falling from the Australians lips sounds heavenly and you can feel your second orgasm quickly approaching.  
“Don’t you dare cum, not until I say you can” Danny tells you, letting go of your neck and gently pushing your head down to the pillow. He’s fucked you countless times, so he knows your body, he knows the way that your pussy starts to clench when you’re close, he knows that you’ll purposely not say anything to try and get away with cumming even when he’s told you not to. He is an expert in the subject of you, and that’s information that he’ll always keep, regardless of how long the two of you spend apart. He knows you more than anyone ever has, and anyone ever will.  
“Oh, fuck fucking fuck you feel so good babygirl, you’re so tight for me” he said through gritted teeth, still slamming into you with all of his might, drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, your moans and cries spurring something on in him. He didn’t want to admit it even to himself, but he had missed you more than anything, he had missed the way you feel, the way you taste, the way you sound. Everything about you was perfect and, in that moment, he decided that he would never let you go again. The thought of another man getting to have you like this made him sick to his stomach, the thought of someone like Max getting to hear the whimpers you make when you’re being fucked, it was unbearable. 
It was getting harder and harder for you to hold off your orgasm, Daniel was fucking you like a man possessed and sooner or later you were going to cum whether you were allowed or not, and he knew that, of course he did.  
“I’m so so close Danny, please please let me cum” You were begging, shame and pride had gone out the window when you turned up at his door after three months. 
“Okay baby, cum. I’m close too, I’m going to fill you up, okay? This is my pussy, and mine only” Daniel just about spoke through gritted teeth. The second those words left his mouth though; you were over the edge. The feeling was overwhelming, you couldn’t remember the last time you came so hard. Tears spilt from your eyes as fireworks went off in your lower stomach and your legs began to tremble. 
The combination of the sound of your cries and the feeling of your pussy contract around him had Daniel not far behind you. His hands gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail as he picked up the pace one last time, fucking you so hard that you genuinely thought he was going to split you in half; his groans getting louder and his breaths getting deeper and more sparce until he spilled out into you.  
~~~~ 
  The morning sun filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow on the tangled sheets, Memories of the night before float hazily in your mind and you catch sight of Daniel sleeping soundly next to you. Truth be told you don’t even remember falling asleep, you must have just crashed after such an intense orgasm. Reaching over to check your phone, you notice multiple messages from your best friend asking where the hell you got to last night. You quickly send a message saying that you were so tired you just went home to sleep, before putting your phone back onto the nightstand and cuddling back up to the man beside you.  
But you never said where or in whose sheets 
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writingwithfolklore · 18 days
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Making the Most out of your First Draft
As someone who used to write every first draft without planning and then use that to figure out characters and outlines, I have a lot of experience in first drafts that are incredibly helpful to forming an actual story, and drafts that don’t add much.
              So here’s how to make the most out of your first draft:
1. Write what doesn’t make sense
One of the most helpful first drafts I ever wrote abandoned plotlines and started new ones as though they had existed all along like several times. It was also the longest draft I had ever written because I had packed so many ideas into it. The reason why this is helpful is because you can test out what a plot point will look like in the middle or even end of your story without having to go back to the same beginning again and again.
It doesn’t need to make sense, just try things out. Disappear characters who don’t work, add a best friend near the end that acts like they’ve been there the entire time, whatever idea you’re interested in you can try out without worrying too much about what makes sense or what you’d need in place to set it up. It's like literally stream of consciousness writing, and you're going to learn so much more about your world, plot, and characters than trying to make it make sense.
2. Write poorly
I spent a lot of that first draft having characters monologue to themselves or each other about their interests and problems and lives which allowed me to explore their backstories and voice even if that’s not something I would do in a final draft. I had the wackiest plot points to see how my characters would react, what would happen to the plot, and if I didn’t like it I would keep going like nothing had happened, I did a lot of yadda-yaddaing over worldbuilding and setting the scenes and making up things on the spot to see if they’d stick, skipping sometimes to the interesting stuff, or adding in a random scene just for fun.
It doesn’t have to be good. Even a little bit. You’re learning about your world and your characters and the story you want to tell, but you aren’t writing it yet. Allow it to be the worst thing you’ve ever written.
3. Make notes on what you like
As you go through and throw spaghetti at the wall (figuratively speaking), make notes on the things that stick. If you write a line of dialogue you really like, or a piece of backstory or even a vibe, make sure to make a note of it somewhere. This will help you narrow down your ideas to what you want to keep when you start writing your story. And if you’re like me and you want to outline or plan your subsequent drafts, these notes will be invaluable to start forming your planning.
Anything else I missed?
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most of you will not understand the agony of this outfit. but hey here's fantasy au Howdy!
rambles:
yes. i know. he looks like a gunslinger. but I think it'd be funny if Howdy shows up and he minorly tweaks the genre simply by Existing! plus, he has to make himself useful beyond being a traveling salesman - he doesn't have a scrap of magic in him! so! alchemist gunslinger!
due to much of this "final" outfit design being Miguel's (@indigopoptart <3 thanks for your help homeslice <3) influence, i have less to say than usual! i'll talk about the things i Kept from the first terrible, terrible draft!
i wanted him to have full-coverage gloves because One, gloves fuck, & Two, shooting gloves! plus, he regularly works with dangerous materials! gotta keep his hands as safe as possible! speaking of his guns, they were a Ton of fun to draw. i wanted to make them ornate... Howdy seems like he'd enjoy nice things? fancy stuff perhaps? anyway the guns have his tavern "logo" on them!
the "second safety" mentioned triggers a magic-oriented mechanism that allows him to piece the guns together! they "unfold" into a big ol clusterfuck of a powerhouse weapon! unfortunately, using this immediately breaks the guns and they have to be repaired, so it's a "break glass in case of emergency" ace up the Neighborhood's sleeve!
i like to imagine that his bandolier, while cool, stresses everyone out a little bit. each bullet is full of pressurized weaponized magic. If they break while on the bandolier, well! Howdy would probably be very much Royally Fucked! i also drew the bullets too large here, so imagine that there's a lot more than shown and they're a lot smaller. I didn't realize this mistake until right now! oopsies!
i want to keep elements of the canon outfits in these fantasy ones. hence why his vest is striped and blue, he's still got the reddish brown pants, and! why his cloak clasp is shaped like a tie! and why the inside of his cloak resembles his apron!
i like to think that Howdy got his magic pack by swindling some poor soul out of it! when the buckles are undone, it unfolds into a vendor stand that looks Much different than the tiny scribble provided! said scribble is there to ah... what's the word. Demonstrate? get the point across? it's actually quite a nice stall! he has space to sell, and a workbench to tinker on! the pockets on the bag actually do function as pockets, though.
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90sbee · 4 months
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Sometimes a saviour is a soldier afraid of peace
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Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader
4.4k words. Also on ao3.
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He looks at her in quiet admiration.
He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.
Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.
He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.
The war is over, but the demons still haunt Levi. Luckily for him, the last member of his Squad seems focused on remaining by his side as they both face this new enemy: peace.
This was !!! My first fic written in English, actually. Also my first (and only time so far) writing for aot. Levi is such an angsty angel, and this story wouldn’t leave my head, so I had to end up writing it, ofc. This has been in the drafts for... months. Too many months already. And tbh I'm not a fan of how it came out. But. Posting it in case someone else can enjoy Levi finally getting some love and comfort, sjsjs.
Content: Use of 3rd person pronouns. No use of y/n. Mostly Levi's pov. Reader was part of his Squad. Post!Rumbling Levi. Written with the manga ending in mind. A lot of fluff, rude Levi even if he doesn't mean it (but reader knows he means no harm). Healing. Spooning (Levi as the little spoon btw. He deserves it).
Warnings: depressive thoughts, self confidence issues. Mentions of past violence (but nothing gruesome, it's all in passing). SFW. No beta reader we die like everybody in Aot here.
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They always meet. Every single day, she leaves her little flat to find him near the fountain in the Marleyan park, eager to push his wheelchair and pass some time with him.
Levi doesn’t understand. When Onyankopon, or Falco, or Gabi let her take the wheelchair, he just ponders. He could understand why they would accompany him: because he is old? because they feel pity of him?… But her?
Nonetheless, every single afternoon, she comes to him. He doesn’t recall when this custom began. It’s like slowly, but surely, she started digging a place into his routine. She was part of his remaining squad, and he really didn’t see any point to her bubbling-self still being by his side.
Still, he appreciates her visits. She exchanges pleasantries with Gabi, already smiling. Why is she smiling?
“Hi, Captain,” she says. Should he feel mocked? He isn’t a captain anymore and the title feels too much, even if it’s comforting in some way. Levi doesn’t reply. He just nods, silently acknowledging her presence. “Is it okay if we go to the stalls for a while, Captain?” She inquires, as if it was the first time they did it, and not a weekly occurrence. His jaw tenses. He doesn’t understand, still. She surely pities him. She has to.
He agrees to her proposal, though.
“Sure,” he replies, barely any emotion on his face.
She smiles at him. For a moment, they look at each other. She sees that familiar scarred face, a grey eye gazing into her soul. He sees the older face of her remaining squad member, some wrinkles next to her eyes, her figure dressed in green. For some reason, he liked that colour on her.
He doesn’t share that with her, though.
“Let’s get going,” she adds, a little chuckle in her voice — he can hear it — as she starts pushing the wheelchair. They check out the little shops that are already so familiar. Sometimes she signals a piece of jewellery or clothes. She asks for his opinion, or points at a silly artwork, in hopes of making him laugh.
When the cold starts to set in, she stops them in front of a coffee shop.
“Wait here a second, Captain,” she tells him.
“Where would I go, anyway?” He wants to say, snarky, but he doesn’t really bother in opening his mouth. He stays silent still, perking his head up to see what’s she’s doing.
“Oi. coffee?” He complains.
She directs her gaze to him and chuckles, paying the vendor.
“I know you like tea but it’s time to broaden your horizons,” she explains. She comes up to him again, and hands him one of the cups. He sighs, but accepts the drink still.
“What is it this time?”
“Just chocolate. Hot chocolate,” she answers, already sipping hers.  She lets out a content sigh when the warmth of it starts to fill her belly.
“I don’t like chocolate,” Levi mutters under his breath. He is lying and she knows it.
“Tsk. That’s not true. Everybody likes chocolate.”
“… Fine,” he sips his drink and, admittedly, enjoys it. She hands him her drink so she can push the wheelchair again, and he takes it, guarding both cups on his lap, a familiar action for the two of them now.
“Where do we go?” She asks.
Levi shrugs. “As if I had a choice.”
She looks at him still, and when he can see her, barely from his peripheral vision, he sees a softer face. She’s waiting for his reply. He looks at her, looks at her lips. She isn’t smiling anymore. Levi sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.
He doesn’t understand still why she does this for him.
“Captain?” She says, just above a whisper, since there are people around them and they both just want to have a calm evening, without the risk of being recognised.
Levi nods before he even opens his mouth.
“The bridge.”
“Good,” she agrees as he sips from his drink again, guided by her. He does feel warmer. Levi inspects the people around him in silence, letting himself be carried, taken to a nicer place. “Hange would have like this,” he thinks. He looks down to suddenly realise he is clenching his fist, hard. “If you could even call it a hand…”
“We’re here, Captain,” she announces, letting his wheelchair rest next to a bench, overlooking the water. She takes a seat next to him, and Levi hands her the drink. He wonders if she noticed how tense he’s been feeling today.
“Be quick with that, brat, or it will get cold,” he warns, as if to pre-emptively shut down any words from her. He’s not sure he could handle it.
She just nods.
“It’s still warm,” she mentions after a moment.
The sunset is taking its place on the sky, a beautiful palette of oranges and pinks against a very flat horizon. A reminder of what was once lost.
“Good,” he says.
Levi looks at her. She is still looking forward, features illuminated by the falling sun, breeze caressing her face. There is something in his heart that aches, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t dare to. Levi is old, too old, and too broken. And she only pities him.
He coughs to catch her attention, though.
“Hmh, yeah?” She immediately says.
“I heard the Scouts were going back to Paradis tomorrow,” he begins, the question lingering in the air. The small group was leaving first time in the morning.
“Yep.”
Levi blinks, expecting her to say more, but she doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ask. It feels… too much. He feels too exposed doing that, lower lip trembling.
“Are you going?” He finally dares to ask.
She turns back to him again, and looks at him with the sweetest gaze. Levi doesn’t miss how she looks at his lips first.
“I’m not.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have anything there,” she replies, matter-of-factly. Levi wants to hit his head against something, still uncertain about what that means. Does that mean that she has something here? Someone?
She must notice his doubts, so she lowers her gaze. “I mean. You know I lost my family during my first years as a Scout. And knowing that we tried to stop Eren… All the military forces in the island won’t be very happy to see me. Or any of us. I’ve done my part. I do not want more fighting.”
“… Right”. That still doesn’t answer his question, but it is enough to satisfy his curiosity without seeming to eager. He sips his drink again: it’s getting colder.
“You didn’t want to go, Captain?” There it was again, that fucking title that felt like a joke. He chuckles, not looking at her anymore but rather at the sunset.
“Why do you still call me like that?” He spits back.
“Captain?”
“Yeah,” His tone is unintentionally rude, but he can’t help it, not even around her.
“Well… It’s a sign of respect, don’t you think?”
Levi chuckles, amused.
“I never took you for a polite person.” He doesn’t want to look at her still. She hasn’t added anything, said anything else. What is she thinking of?
She looks at him. There’s a warmth in her belly which has nothing to do with the chocolate anymore. She knows: Her Captain has been way more vulnerable and open since the Rumbling. The little gestures that he could so easily hide before are now an open book. Or at least she feels that way, since she was always one to look at him.
It was so easy to just… stare at him. Admire him in every sense of the word, even now. When they were both soldiers they would fight alongside each other, against innumerable dangers. He was barely visible in the spectrum: always so fast, always so precise. A ray of dark hair and strong limbs, destroying everything to provide peace, to provide protection.
There was no point in denying how she felt about him… Except, maybe, to him.
“I don’t think I would like going back to Paradis,” she finally adds, finishing her drink. He seems to reflect on that idea for a moment, before nodding. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t dare to. “I’m just… comfortable here,” she finishes with a sigh. “This is okay.”
“That’s good,” he says, barely a spark of enthusiasm in his voice, but enough for her to notice.
She looks up at him again. And he feels tiny and scared suddenly, because she looks at him with wonder and care. Levi doesn’t mean to, but he ends up letting his drink fall from his hands, whether due to his nervousness or the state of his hand after the war.
“Shit,” he spits, upset.
“Sh, it’s alright, Captain.” In a second she is picking up the cup, handing him a handkerchief to dry his hands. She walks a few steps to throw both cups into a trashcan and is again, by his side. Such a quick interaction so as to ease his shame, he could notice it. “Are you alright?”
Levi still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why she still treats him with such respect, why she seems to care so much for him. But he wants to find out, somehow. He barely nods, but she notices it.
“Good,” she says, while taking the handkerchief back. She is about to put it into her bag again when she feels a hand grabbing hers.
Levi.
He doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t know how. She seems to understand, though, squeezing his hand, softly. Levi quickly lets her hand go, his cheeks going red. She gets behind the wheelchair again, as the sun is about to disappear, and Levi can hear her chuckling.
“Let’s get you home, Captain.”
He stays quiet, unsure if he could even say something useful.
There’s so much he doesn’t know how to say. How to do.
While she is pushing his chair he notices it again. A slight tremor in her right hand. “My wrist seems to ache lately… Must be from holding the blades for so many years,” she had explained in passing a couple weeks ago. He realises that it’s probably taking a strain on her to push him every fucking day.
“Oi,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Stop pushing me. I can handle it,” he explains, tone serious.
“Oh, no,” her hand is trembling still. “It’s fine, it’s no bother for me, Captain.”
“… It’s an order,” he commands after a moment. She stops in her tracks and he can hear a gentle laugh coming from behind him.
“It had been a while since that, huh.” Confidently, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, gently tapping it. Levi smiles. Barely curving his lips, but he does. He is about to be brave, hold her hand on his shoulder when she removes it from him. “Shit,” he thinks. “Too slow… Too slow? Slow for what? Tsk.”
Despite his missing fingers, he can still push his wheelchair quite properly. It also helps that he can see his street far ahead. She walks comfortably besides him, a silence and gentle ghost as his most devoted companion.
Yeah. There’s definitely something aching in his chest. He had been noticing the past days, feeling getting more painful as they both approach his place. And it has nothing to do with his faulty joints or damaged body or excessive age.
When they reach his door, she asks for his key. Levi gives it to her, his hand lingering for a second too long, reflecting on the brief touch of hands as she grabs it to unlock the door.
He is tired.
And he feels incredibly silly when he realises he doesn’t want her to leave.
“There we go, Captain. I help you in?” she suggests with a bright smile, opening the door.
“… Yes.”
She steps inside and pushes the chair into his living room, almost getting it next to his couch.
“That’s enough” he decides, in a semblance of independency he still wants to maintain.
She nods. “Okay… I guess… I’ll get going, Captain.”
Levi lifts up his gaze. He wants to ask… He wants to know… He savours her image for a moment, her tired expression and the way her dress now looks clumsy and wrinkled but he doesn’t care. Before, before everything had ended up like this he would remind every single cadet to iron their uniforms, all the outfits presentable, so as to look like respectable soldiers and honourable bodies if the occasion arose. Now she can have the privilege of looking messy. Of not worrying about death so often.
“No,” he mutters.
“Huh?” she inquires, taking a step forward.
“Shit,” Levi thinks. “I… I want tea,” he makes up a quick lie.
“Oh, sure. Yes, Captain.” She leaves her bag on the couch and goes into the kitchen, getting a kettle full of water.
He looks at her in quiet admiration.
He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.
Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.
He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.
He stands up. His body still holds that ability, though his legs get tired rather quickly. He can still walk, so he does until he reaches the kitchen. She is still deciding on the teas when she sees him.
“Oh, no, Captain, please, just don’t…”
He interrupts her, grabs her waist carelessly and pushes her towards the couch, barely moving her.
“Let me handle it myself.”
“Levi…” She whispers, their faces inches apart.
“Go. Sit,” he mumbles, biting his lips and sending his eyes lower, so as to avoid her face.
“Are you sure?” She inquires a moment after, still close to him. He notices she has a hand on his waist as well, a protective aid making sure he stays on two feet.
“Yes,” he says, more commanding this time. He grabs that hand of hers and pushes her away gently now.
She nods, understandingly.
“I’ll be in the living room,” she adds.
Levi nods at her, making sure she finally gets that ass of hers in the couch. He is now faced with his kitchen. Most of the cups and teas, everything has been moved lower, so as to accommodate to his wheelchair. Slowly, he kneels, searching for a specific flavour for her. When he finally finds the peppermint and rose one, he mentally cheers. He stands up again, slowly, as if to show confidence, making sure from his peripheral view that she isn’t coming to his aid.
She isn’t. He catches her averting her eyes, though. A confirmation that she has been staring.
He decides to stare as well. Supporting himself on his weakened legs, he waits for the kettle to boil, while looking at her. It’s as if she could notice that, because her head doesn’t move, still fixated on an indescriptible point in his living room.
“Oi, what you looking at?” He says, a bit more light-hearted.
A smile forms on her lips before she even turns her head towards him. She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling at him.
“Fuck,” he thinks when he realises he has also slightly curved his lips.
Quickly he turns towards the stove, the kettle already boiling. Levi carefully fills the cups with water, letting the leaves rest. He lifts his gaze up to her for a second but it is already enough for her to notice.
“Need help with the cups?” Her, always so worried, so in tune with his needs. No need for words.
“Of fucking course.”
Still, the only answer he gives her is a polite nod. She stands up, approaching him.
“I’ll handle it, Captain. Just take a seat.”
He lets out a sigh, taking himself to the couch and plopping himself there.
“It’s hard,” Levi thinks as he sees her come back to the living room, two cups in her hands. He accepts the drink, his gaze not leaving her features. “I… I can’t.”
He knows he can’t accept kindness: he doesn’t know how to. Still, he tenses his jaw and forces himself to sip the tea as she takes a seat next to him.
“Peppermint, huh?” She hums mostly to herself.
 “… Yeah,” comes out of his mouth, unsure, less braver than expected. Is he insecure? Has he made a mistake?
“Good choice” She declares and he breathes again, realising that he had been holding his breath. “Bet you already knew that, right?” She adds, cocking her head.
Levi looks at her again. He has been avoiding her eyes but he hadn’t been trained as a soldier to back down in times of peace.
“I did,” he says, his tone firm, a very weak attempt at showing confidence still. “It’s the one you would always ask for when we would have meetings with the Scouts.”
“It’s good tea.” Her tone seems softer now.
Levi hums, too deep inside his mind to notice it.
She wonders. Wonders if he has ever realized that the only reason she would wander through the headquarters late at night was just to be found and reprimanded by him, the way she would be easily entertained by Levi’s stern face. Wondered if Hange had ever told him about the time she had fallen asleep in their office and woke up, mumbling his name, much to Hange’s delight, though they had promised to keep it a secret.
He looks down at his legs, at his carpeted floor.
He wonders if she had ever noticed the way he would mindlessly lick his lips after looking at her, the boring uniform suddenly a beautiful outfit, making her stand out. Wonders if it was too late to tell her that, yes, after Hange and her had found him, and stitched him up, that he had heard every single word she had uttered near his heart, softly pressing her timid hands on his chest. There hadn’t been time then to discuss anything or even think if it had meant anything else than old scouts being protective of each other, but now…
They finish their teas in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the opposite, despite the fact that Levi has started nervously tapping his feet against the floor. It is dark outside already, the light from the lamps flowing into Levi’s house, a dog barking a few blocks away.
She stands up, makes sure to wash her cup in the sink and put it away before returning to him.
“Captain?” She mutters. No need for more words.
Levi hands her the cup with slow movements, as if trying to prolong that insignificant action for as long as possible. And when she is already about to head into the kitchen, little plate and teacup in her hand, he decides to be brave. No more lying to himself, no more being a coward. Too many people have died, have bleed, have sacrificed the little they had for a selected group of survivors to be able to live. To enjoy the remaining Earth. For the little ones that survived to be able to find some meaning. Something worth all the pain.
Basking in the fear serves no one. In fact, makes all the death meaningless.
So, Levi looks up at her and grabs her hand, even if he is scared still. Trembling fingers dancing on hers until they secure her hand softly in his. He feels warm even if he doesn’t know what to say, how to convey what he feels. Such a shadow of the man he was. So stupid now.
Levi just wants her to say.
She gasps at the contact but quickly composes herself. A shy smile showing up on her face. They stay like that for a moment, neither daring to break the silence.
“Levi?” She asks after a moment, moving closer to his face, as if asking for permission.
He can only look at her lips in reply.
She shortens the distance between them and kisses him on his lips. It isn’t a big kiss, too flashy or provocative: just a tender contact between two broken people. As soon as he has processed what was going on, she has already moved forward, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.
And then, even higher, another kiss on his forehead, her lips remaining close to his face. Levi can’t say anything. Barely reacting. But when she looks at his eyes, she is greeted by the sweet glimmer of tears in them.
Levi. Happy, at last.
And as if reading his mind, she utters: “Do you want me to stay, Levi?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
She complies. In the quiet, late hours of the night, Levi wakes up, his body feeling too rested already. It was a habit hard to break, he wouldn’t sleep much anyway. He sighs still, feeling her body pressing against his, holding him from behind. She has one hand on his shoulder, the other keeping him safe and secured, hugging his waist close. He dares to smile and grab that hand across his belly with both of his hands, so as to make sure that it is real: he is being held. There is someone else with him. Levi isn’t alone. Someone is taking care of him. Someone he’s been devoted to for so many years.
He wants to nuzzle up closer, hide in her chest or neck and feel more.
But he doesn’t dare to. He can’t allow himself to do that yet. 
So he stays awake in silence, hearing the soothing and steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Levi still doesn’t understand, though.
He doesn’t want to think of why she has chosen him, how he got this privilege so late in his life, when all hope seems to be lost and the thought of a partner didn’t cross his mind at all. He also doesn’t know what to do with this gift, this blessing. Why? How? He is such a crippled shadow of what he used to be. Slow, so consumed by roughness and violence and so useless now.
He has always had something to fight for: his life, his friends, his Squad, Erwin, Hange. Yet since the Rumbling he has just… fallen behind. He is just existing and it seems like his body has finally caught up to his age: no longer agile and strong, but a weakened man, finally leaving the survival mode that has characterised every single aspect of his life. He doesn’t have any goals or dreams now. Everything had been slowly trampled down like the titans destroying all land and all life.
He shivers, remembering that day and holds her hand tighter.
Once he had completed the promise made to Erwin, his last order, he had nothing more. No more commands. No more slaying titans.
Just existing.
He doesn’t want that. He has been a fighter, a rebel, a monster his whole life. He only knew of endurance and compliance with the spirit of life, of resistance. He doesn’t know of anything else: the calmness, the quietness, the routine walks and just reading books and sitting on his porch… That is not him. That isn’t life. Being able to choose things for himself, devour life gently and enjoy it instead of painfully trying to keep it close, to grip it between calloused fingers… Peace isn’t familiar.
He has nothing to devote himself to, nothing to prove or fight for.
“Yeah,” he thinks. “Everything is… meaningless… Or it was.”
He closes his eyes, relinquishing himself in the warm body against his.
Some things… Some things have meaning still.
Her.
The way she would scrunch her nose when laughing or buy him drinks or attempt to make him laugh or wear that damn stupid wrinkled dress and — “Fuck. I know her so much by now…”
She had been a Scout too. She had fought and devoted her heart and did everything a Scout had to do. She had fulfilled her duty in the same way he did. She has survived and she doesn’t regret a single thing. Not even this life.
She is at peace.
He wants to sob.
He doesn’t understand peace. Sure, it was his goal, what he always dreamed of, but, damn it. Levi had never thought he would actually get to see something resembling it. Unlike her. She understood what it was: she has accepted peace with open arms and a smile that — fuck, somehow— has been shining on her face throughout the years. Despite so much pain and death…  She still allows herself to fucking live in peace. She forgave herself for the death, for the pain and crimes and let go.
He isn’t sure if he can do the same.
Peace is foreign, strange even. An oddity. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that time would run up someday and that things would turn against them for a second time.
But, still, the promise of the rest of his life in peace lingers.
He could have it.
He fucking could.
Levi reflects on those thoughts for a moment, silent still.
He thinks he can get to an agreement. Maybe, when she wakes up in the morning, he can try to spill his soul to her a little. Try to understand how she handles this life, how she can get up in the mornings after killing so much, and just have tea with him.
But for now, in the quietness of the night, as the old warrior he was, he does the only thing he knows: he promises to dedicate his heart once more.
He finally has a reason, a purpose, something worth protecting again.
Levi lifts his hand, crossing it on his chest the way all Scouts would do. But he doesn’t press it on his heart, but rather, moves it to hold her hand, the one resting on his shoulder. He squeezes it gently, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed by her. By the silent love she had been proclaiming to him all these years and that he couldn’t reciprocate before.
Yes. Now it is the time.
Levi would dedicate his heart once more.
To her and only her.
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That may have been the cheesiest ending ever written but !!!! He deserves it, I know. Also someone stop me before I write for Hange, the feelings got to me indeed. Dividers by @/cafekitsune @/saradika and @/vase-of-lilies
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regular-dog · 4 months
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Hey @five-rivers, happy truce! I decided to go with your prompt about danny attending a cultural ritual or event, and themed it around the far frozen. My explanation for it got a little longwinded so I've included it under a read more, along with a little extra art!
(tumblr’s probably gonna crunch all of these up a bit, so click for better quality)
I'll be honest, I haven't actually thought out the exact details of what this event would be, just the broad strokes - I tend to gravitate towards food as a source of celebration in my own worldbuilding, and I guess that bled through here as well in the form of “ice = water = probable fish based diet = important fish event?”
During drafting I couldn’t really decide between “event centred around observing fish migration and/or other seasonal habits” or “Danny being invited to come fishing with Frostbite and the other yeti”, but honestly I think either of those would probably fit. Originally I had planned to have one or two yeti characters swimming around with him to make the piece more dynamic, but a surprise attack from a migraine kind of cut into my plans a bit and I decided to downsize.
...at least until I got annoyed by the lack of a visible ghost friend in the piece and decided to paint a “small” “”extra”” “””doodle””” which rapidly turned into a whole other Thing,
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There are shockingly few ghost fish in the show, apparently, or at least I could neither remember nor find images online of any examples, so I just kind of winged it. Their design is partially inspired by a short story you wrote a while back, although I ended up drifting away from the zebrafish motif as I was drafting them. I started thinking of them as maskfish as a stand-in name, and then promptly forgot to think of a better one, so. Maskfish it is. Here's some random notes I made while conceptualising them, because I constantly have specbio on the brain and couldn't not think about it
Maskfish flesh turns an opaque pale colour when cooked, and remains translucent when raw
Their eyes are covered in a clear, hard exterior, and can be hollowed out and sterilised for use in various crafts; along similar lines I could also see their bones being used to make glues, paints, and other such resources.
Their cores are located at the top of the spinal cord, in the head; their mouths are located on the underside, beneath the "mask", which makes up the entire top part of the head, and is a singular piece of a shell-like material.
Though they aren't particularly agressive hunters, they also aren't picky about their food, and will generally eat anything smaller than themselves.
Aaand finally, here's a bunch of isolated scans, since procreate ate a lot of the fine details in the collaging process.
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nsfwflint · 5 months
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A Black Tie Affair And A Long Goodbye (Partial Draft)
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A/N: So this is the partial draft of what was going to be my farewell piece before I retired. It initially started out as an idea for a Kang Mina x Sejeong piece after they both had amazing appearances in black dresses for award shows last year. Then I added Jihyo, and then Yoojeong, and as I kept finding more pictures of hot idols in black dresses, the list just kept growing and growing. It eventually evolved into an idea for a piece where instead of a massive orgy, it would be a ton of quickie scenes varying in length but typically not exceeding 3k words per scene. However, clearly, that never happened. I ended up putting a lot of pressure on myself and eventually retired without putting anything out. I'm posting it now but be warned; this is a very rough draft that has gone through zero editing. I'm not gonna lie, it's not that great and the smut itself is eerily similar to Reconnecting despite me trying not to copy my own piece. Anyway, here it is and I hope you enjoy. Treat this as a winter holiday present I guess.
As you stare at the thin black fabric hugging the voluptuous body before you, a single thought crosses your mind. You love your girlfriend. Not just because her curvaceous figure in that black dress tantalizes you as she stands a few feet away, but for what the dress itself means. 
Award show season. The few nights of the year your girlfriend finally gets awarded for all her amazing work through the year. 
However it’s also the few nights of the year that she and all her friends get so unbelievably stressed, that she loans you out to all her gorgeous friends for “relief.” The first time she asked about you to help her friend, you thought it was a trap. But somehow it wasn’t and you discovered that your amazing girlfriend is completely okay with essentially whoring you out to her equally beautiful friends, the cherry on top to your already incredible relationship. 
While initially it was only your girlfriend and a few of her close friends, word about your “services" quickly and quietly spread throughout the industry, with more and more celebrities using you for relief every year. At first you were worried about the increasing number of requests, but your girlfriend convinced you to take care of anyone who asked. As it turns out, she actually gets turned on by the thought of so many women wanting you.
Wondering how many gorgeous women you’ll have to satisfy this year, a loving voice finally pulls you from your thoughts.
“You ready to go?”
“Of course, baby. Let’s get going.” You smile as you gently take her hand and start making your way towards the door.
It hasn’t even been ten minutes since you arrived at the venue before the first taker pulls you into a bathroom. You quickly get pushed into a stall onto a thankfully closed toilet and find yourself with the first voluptuous beauty of the night grinding on your lap as she peppers your neck with kisses.
“Jesus, Mina. I haven’t even been in the building for fifteen minutes and you’re already jumping me like this?” You groan as her soft lips kiss up and down your neck.
“I can’t help it. I saw you looking amazing in that tux and all the stress I’ve had lately just exploded. I just fucking needed you so much.” Mina whines, her hungry kisses tracing your jawline.
“Sounds like you’ve been under a lot of pressure then. With that kind of stress, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d been a bad girl lately.” You tease.
Your hands instinctively make themselves at home on Mina’s hips with a rough squeeze as her barrage of kisses comes to a screeching halt. Pulling away from your neck, she stares into your eyes with an intense erotic gaze.
“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl. I need you to punish me with your fat cock, daddy.” Mina replies, slowly emphasizing every word as her voice drips with lustful seduction.
The first time she called you daddy during sex it caught both of you off guard. After the initial shock however, you discovered just how much it turned you on; something she’s used to her advantage ever since.
She gently pushes her hand against your chest as she stands up off of your lap. You waste no time getting ready, quickly unbuckling your belt and dropping your pants down to your ankles. Mina pulls her dress up to her midriff, revealing her delightfully fit tummy and a thin pair of black panties.
Sliding her panties to the side to reveal her moist entrance, Mina eagerly sinks herself on your throbbing cock. Both of you release a pleasured moan as her tight cunt hungrily grips your shaft. Lifting herself up briefly, she quickly slams herself back down as her shapely ass ripples against your thighs. It doesn’t take long for her to establish her usual cock hungry rapid pace as she furiously rides you.
“Oh fuck, you fill me so much, daddy.” Mina cries, slamming herself on your cock.
“You like riding daddy’s dick like this don’t you?” You grunt as your tip pounds away at her depths.
“Yes daddy I do. You hit me so deep, daddy.”
Her curvaceous body ripples and bounces with every frantic slam. Contented moans pour endlessly from her lips as she places her hands on your shoulders. The velvety heat of her moist chasm radiates along your shaft as her walls clamp around your cock. Each thrust pierces into the deepest part of her cunt, driving both of you to the brink of ecstasy.
As Mina becomes a mewling mess on your cock, you can’t help but notice how gorgeous she is in her midnight black dress. It tightly hugs her large chest as her auburn hair tumbles down its erotic curve. Watching her big tits heave wildly in the black fabric, you quickly find yourself unable to hold back your own desires. You yank down the tight dress, freeing the large breasts with a satisfying bounce and immediately taking a stiff nipple into your mouth. Your hands sink into the pillowy flesh of her chest as you rapidly roll your tongue around the fleshy nub. 
“Fuck, I love when you suck my tits, daddy.” Mina shrieks as her fingernails dig into your shoulders through your tux.
While you should probably be worried about how loud she’s moaning, worshiping her chest erases all other thoughts from your mind. You quickly flick your tongue up and down the sweet nipple as her heavenly flesh ripples against your lips. Your fingers can’t get enough of her silky skin, squeezing and kneading both of the fleshy mounds endlessly in your hands. The small beauty mark on her right breast dances in and out of your vision as her tits bounce with every frantic slam on your cock.
As you messily devour Mina’s pillowy breasts, her hands move to the nape of your neck. She grabs as much of your hair as she can and pushes your face even farther into the satiny skin of her chest.  Endless moans and gasps flow from her lips as she fervently rides your cock, humping and bouncing on you with a vigorous sexual hunger that you’ve rarely experienced. No longer content with Mina just fucking herself on your dick, you give her tits another rough squeeze as you begin to buck your hips upwards.
“Oh fuck yes, daddy!” Mina cries out as your tip slams into her depths.
Her moist cunt tightly grips your shaft, tugging and pulling with every eager thrust. The soft skin of her endless curves ripples beautifully as your bodies hungrily crash against each other. Your hands move down to her slender hips, squeezing them tightly as you drive your cock deeper and deeper into her hot chasm with every forceful slam. You continue to slurp, suck, and nibble on her stiff nipple; feasting on the sweet flesh as the heavy weight of her large tits slap against your face from Mina bouncing wildly on your dick.
You lose track of how long the two of you have been carnally devouring each other’s bodies when every fiber of your body feels like it’s on fire. You regretfully removes your lips 
“I’m gonna fucking cum, Mina.” You groan as you feel yourself reaching your limit.
“I’m almost there too. Cum inside me, daddy. Fill this tight pussy with daddy’s thick cum.” Mina screams, her hips bucking non-stop as she furiously rides your cock.
Almost as soon as she finishes her sentence, Mina’s own orgasm is the first to arrive. A rush of her sticky nectar rushes down your shaft as her velvety walls clench around your dick. Not far behind her, you continue to pound your tip away at her depths. As her body trembles on your cock, you forcefully push your dick as deep as you can inside her. She pushes your face into her deep cleavage and it’s all it takes to bring you to your own climax. Your tip throbs against the entrance of her womb before violently erupting.
An endless torrent of thick cum floods into Mina’s womb, quickly filling her to the brim with an unending stream of ropey semen exploding from your tip. Mina slowly grinds against you as you continue filling her with an obscene amount of your childbearing seed, her hot walls tightly gripping your shaft as it tries to milk as much of your potent cum as it can. One final spurt of your cum drowns her womb and both of your orgasms slowly die down. 
The bathroom falls silent except for the heavy panting of the two of you trying to catch your breath. After a few minutes, you finally remove your face from Mina’s cleavage as she looks at you with an affectionate smile. She softly presses her lips against yours before standing up. Your shaft coated with the sticky remnants of both of your orgasms, it glistens in the fluorescent light as she lifts herself off your cock. No longer being dammed by your depleted member, a thick white waterfall slowly drips out of her entrance. 
The two of you chuckle as you take the nearby toilet paper and quickly clean yourselves up. After a few minutes of fixing your clothes, both of you look the same as before you entered the bathroom. Mina looking drop dead gorgeous in her black dress and you looking painfully average in your tux. She gives you another gentle kiss before pulling back and smiling.
“That was exactly what I needed. Thank you, daddy. I’ll see you later.”
Mina gives you a teasing wink before disappearing from the bathroom. Just to be safe, you wait a few more minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to the venue halls, wondering who will be next.
A/N2: So the plan for the piece was with so many idols included, I wanted it to be like a choose your own adventure type thing where all the scenes would be included but the reader could pick which one was the true "girlfriend" for themselves. A potential/joke ending that I came up with involved a time skip with the protagonist sitting in front of a table with a mountain of positive pregnancy tests from all the idols. Not sure if I would have gone with that as the official ending, but I guess we'll never know. I had started the second scene in my draft, but since the smut scene for that idol wasn't finished, I didn't include it. Just felt like it would be a tease and I don't want to do that you guys since I don't know if I'll ever finish it. But if I do, I'll post it as a part two I guess. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.
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ultralightpoe · 3 months
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Power- Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: The last and final part to the avoidance series, I dragged this series out of my drafts and tbh have always hated how it ended which is why I never posted it.
Word Count: 3496
Warnings: Shitty writing, like I hated how I wrote this part.
Main Masterlist Here
Part One - - Part Two - - Part Three
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(Thank you for the gif @unearthlydust )
Enjoy!
You weren’t you.
It was something Bucky had to remind himself everytime he saw you, the voice that eased himself down everytime you dashed to hide by Steve.
You looked like you, your hair a bit longer and your eyes green from the amount of power the main difference, but the physique was all yours, the very same once he had memorized after countless sleepovers with you.
But there was something unexpected about you now, that graceful stillness he had never seen you have.
Since the moment he met you it had been a whirlwind of clumsiness. Tripping, falling, dropping things and hitting your head on just about everything. At some point in the friendship he had learned how to move with you, reaching a hand over you to block you from hitting a cabinet as you stood straight or just catching you with his metal arm around your hip when you slipped on an ice sheet.
But now, you moved with an unnatural grace, keeping a hand on Steve at all times as he lead you around the kitchen to make breakfast and Bucky could do nothing but watch from his spot on the counter top, Sam seated next to him. No one said a word, and the room held a tense atmosphere as Bucky noted every single movement you made.
The graceful ease of you backing up so Steve could grab the flour, and the sheer warmth in your smile as Steve smiles down at you, his eyes gleaming. Bucky was going to kill him, what a piece of-
“I love pancakes.” You laugh, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts as he realized Sam had asked you a question.
Steve watches you carefully as he starts pouring the pancake batter, watching how you interact with Sam in this moment.
“I don’t doubt you do. You know, Buck right here showed me this really cool diner that his friend showed him. They have pancake night every Tuesday.” Sam smiles, and Bucky notes the way Steve tenses up but he can’t tear his eyes from you.
“Buck….” It’s like you’re testing the name on your tongue, something dimming in your eyes as your head tilts, like you were trying to picture something. Like the memories were struggling to surface.
Panic lunges at him as he realizes he might be able to make you remember, that chord tied to his ribs and chest tugging a bit. “Actually you showed me! We go there every week for pancake night and rate the flavor of the week, Doll.”
“Doll.” You repeat, nothing more than a breathy whisper that has Steve tensing.
Nothing happens at first, and Bucky waits with a baited breath, until the plant on the fridge lunges out and all hell breaks loose.
The pot the plant was held in shatters once all the roots burst from it and Bucky moves to block you but Steve is already there, wrapping his body around you as the vines cover every surface of the room. They bend and snap at anything in their way, and though Bucky reaches for you once more Sam pulls him back with a newfound strength, making sure he didn’t get in the vines path.
Steve murmurs something, and Bucky has to tilt his head to hear the next few words, chest tightening. “I just need you to breathe, okay doll?”
Doll. That fucking called you doll. He watches as you mouth the word, your eyebrows pinching for a moment before your face goes into one of ease and you close your eyes, breathing in and the vines stop their path of destruction.
“I’m tired.” You mumble, a small dot of red coming from your nose that’s got Bucky all but snarling when Steve reaches to wipe the blood away and kiss your forehead.
“Let’s get you to your room then? Okay?” He whispers, leading you away softly as Bucky struggles against Sams hold.
When has Sam ever been able to hold him?
As if realizing the change too Sam let’s go quickly, eyes traveling his arms while Bucky blinks too.
“What the fuck?!” Tony snaps, looking at the mess of the kitchen. “Alright. Team meeting now. Everyone but her!”
-
The room was filled with that same quiet tension, everyone sat around the table as Tony prepped for the meeting, the second everyone was ready the table lit up with footage.
“Starting from the top, we found plant princess a week ago and I’m sure you’ve all already noticed that something is off.” Tony starts, making Bruce snort. “Over the past week we have had her come in for some testing to see what might be going on,”
The footage on the screen shows you sitting in a chair with Wanda talking to you, hooked up to tons of different devices.
“You ran testing on her?” Bucky snaps, whirling to Steve. “You let them test on her?”
“I was in the room the whole time.” Steve sighs back, eyes not leaving the footage.
“What we can figure out is that she’s gone on a full mental block, the amount of energy that her powers are taking up has wrapped her in a blanket of sorts.” Bruce explains. “The last time we found her it was the same, it’s like the power beneath her skin is a moving breathing creature that needs to protect them.”
“She’s never said that before….” Nat mumbles, eyes showing nothing but shock.
“Well she’s almost always been able to control it. Her and the power working together at her will. But when we originally found her things weren’t the same.”
Bucky had talked to you a bit about life back then, but neither of you got into gruesome details. There was always a line that you both had drawn to keep from heading back to the dark place.
“She never told you about anything regarding this?” Nat asks him.
“We talked about most things, but there were things we didn’t talk about. There were boundaries for both of us.” Bucky shrugged, not liking the way Nat was looking at him. “We had boundaries, believe it or not.”
She merely blinked at him before whipping her head away.
“I hadn’t known that Stevie was the one to find her.” Bucky snips, enjoying the way Steves jaw tenses as his fists clench.
“We found that Cornell, one of the scientists left from the war- or well his son- had taken up his fathers assignment and had been experimenting on people. When we breached the compound we found….. her. Wrapped up in vines just to keep warm, looking wild and hiding from us. She was terrified,” steve explains. “I was the first person to talk to her. She kind of clung to me after that.”
“Clung?” Nat asks.
Steve shrugs. “We became best friends. Until….”
He doesn’t have to say it, no one in the room has to say it. Until Bucky.
Bucky never realized that he had stolen you from Steve. Had never cared..,… and he doesn’t care now. “So what can I do to help her.”
“Right now? Don’t push the process. That might have been what triggered her outbreak today, she dug for the memories and the power leeched.” Tony sighs.
“So…”
“So, Tin Man, you need to keep your distance for a bit.” Tony snaps.
“What?! No!”
“Oh come on Buck. I figure this would be the easiest task for you.” Steve snipes and Bucky all but lunges across the table.
Bullshit. He would not. Everyone nods, agreeing that Bucky will stay away. He. Does. Not.
-
Is it a shock that the very next day Bucky goes out of his way to find you? No.
He finds you sitting in a window seat, letting the sunlight hit your skin as you keep your eyes closed from the warmth. There is no one near you, surprising since Nat and Steve had been hovering around you since they brought you back, and he takes his chance while he can.
Even if you don’t remember him he just wants to hear your voice.
“Hey.” He whispers, moving closer but not enough to crowd you as you open your eyes. “Mind if I…..”
He points with his flesh hand to the spot across from you and you pull your legs in to give him room so that he may sit, a smile gracing his features as the sun warms him up instantly.
“You like this spot?”
“It’s the only quiet place here.” You mumble, shrugging.
“Quiet?”
“I can hear pain.”
“I’m sorry?” He blurts, head tilting as he stares at you, heart thundering.
“It’s…. Right here.” You bring your finger up and press it lightly in the center of his forehead. “Beating against everything, whispering where everyone is hurt.”
“It tells you where everyone is hurt?” He whispers, his voice not strong enough to speak any louder.
You don’t answer him at first, but you slide your finger down the side of this face to his neck and once you get to his chest you add more fingers until your full hand is pressing against his chest, right over his heart.
“You hurt here.” You murmur, your eyes glowing a bright green. “But I can’t fix it….”
“It’s not your job to fix it.” He smiles lightly. “But I can promise ya that you being here helps.”
“You talk like I know you.”
“Don’t you?” And there it is again, that unnatural grace as you quirk your head to the side and your eyebrows pinch together.
You get that foggy look, like you can almost see him, before you’re snapping your hand back. “You were mad.”
“No.” He croaks, pain flooding his chest. He didn’t want you to remember him that way, didn’t want you to think he was mad those last couple days. “I was never-“
“Hey.” Nat snaps, and you sit ramrod straight, backing away from Bucky. “Bucky you’re wanted in the training rooms.”
“Not right now Nat.”
“Bucky-“
“Not. Right. Now.” He snaps, but it’s too late, Steve is coming around the corner with wide eyes until they land on you.
“I was looking for you, you said you wanted to tour the med center.” And just like that you are gone, following Steve down to the med area that you had made for the general public.
-
It isn’t long until the blue eyed brunette finds you again, the pull on your rib cage drawing your attention to the door where he slowly enters.
You had spent 4 hours in the med bay, Steve having to leave you a little while ago to help with an issue, and you had taken to helping out people who came in. There was something natural about this, like you had done it every day. But you had no recollection of it.
Just like the man with the metal arm, you felt like you knew him, every inch and emotion of him. But he was still nowhere in your memory.
When he spots you his eyes widen a bit before he is making his way over, something clutched in his hand as the girl in front of you prays under her breath before hopping down and rushing to tell her mother what you did.
“Are you okay?” The stranger asks, flesh hand reaching out to touch your cheek as you try to blink away some of the light in your eyes.
The girls mother sobs loudly, and both of them are rushing back to thank you, but you had no clue why. Where had they come from?
The stranger keeps a hand on your shoulder as you blink at them, your body set aflame as they both begin praying again.
“Where am I?” Where am I? Where am I? Where am I. “Is Cornell coming?”
“Okay. I think that’s enough for today.” The stranger mumbles, his tone filled with panic and fear as his hand slides down to grab your arm, pulling it back with a hiss of pain as just the touch burns him. “Wait. No. Focus.”
Who is he talking to?
Where were you?
“Hey. Can you hear me?” A voice sounds out and you try to find it. Who was talking? What was that feeling?
It hurt, something was hurting you. Burning. You were burning from the inside out.
“Clear everyone out!” A new voice calls as something wraps around you tightly, crushing you tightly to pick you up.
There was so much light and so much pain.
You couldn’t see anything, and soon enough the ringing in your ears started.
-
“GET THE SHOWER STARTED!” Bucky yells, keeping you clutched to his chest as you burn through his tactical suit, eyes glowing brightly while blood pours from your nose.
“That doesn’t look good man.” Sam grunts, helping lead the way to the locker rooms as Bucky carries you in his arms, breathing out as he tries not to focus on the burning.
“Just get the shower started.” He grunts in pain, panic coating his body and his mouth going dry.
The second Sam has the water running he is reaching for the next nozzle, going around the shower section until every single shower was running with cold water, Bucky kneeling in the center with cradled in his arms.
Within seconds you’re both drenched, and the water hits your skin with a hiss before it begins steaming around you, but slowly your body begins to cool down.
He doesn’t know how long he sits with you under all the showers, laying you across his thighs so he can cradle your head closer and wipe away some of the blood that had poured from your nose.
“Buck.” Someone calls, but he can’t drag his eyes away from you, right as you’re cracking your eyes open.
“It hurts.” You whimper, and his heart all but shatters.
“I’m sorry Doll.” He whispers back, leaning to press his forehead against yours. He feels your hand reach up, shaking from exhaustion as you press it to his chest, right over his heart.
“I can feel your pai-“
“Don’t focus on that right now.” He orders gently. “Focus on something else.”
“They’re all in pain-“
“No no no. Think about pancakes, yeah? Or maybe that book that’s coming out? You remember? You all but dragged me to the book signing the last time one came out.” He tries to smile down at you, keeping you lifted enough so your foreheads stay pressed together. “Think about ice skating or ornaments on a tree.”
“It’s raining.” You blurt, body coiling closer to his. He is confused at first, then realizes that you must be confusing the heavy water falling on you as rain. “I don’t like the rain.”
“I know. I know.” He murmurs, holding you closer. “I’ve got ya Doll. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to ya,”
“Buck.” You sob, eyes closing. “I don’t feel good.”
“I know.” His chest felt so tight, and tears were beginning to fall from his eyes onto your cheeks. “I’m sorry. You want Steve?”
“Bucky.” You sob again, the hand that was covering his heart clenching into what was left of his leather jacket from his tactical gear.
“I’m here. I’m here. What do you need?” God just help her. Find a way to help her please. Anything anything anything.
“I can’t stop it.” Your eyes open again, once again glowing brightly, so much so that he has to close his own from how bright they are. But he keeps his arms wrapped around you, tight. “Buck, it’s-“
There a feeling in his own chest, expanding and expanding and expanding, he feels like his lungs are constricting and every molecule in his body is about to burst. He’s sure it’s what you’re feeling right now I’m tenfold so he merely pulls you as tight as he can.
“Let go. You gotta let go doll.” He breathes out, eyes still slammed shut as he grunts out as your skin starts heating again.
“Not with you-“ you sob. “Go!”
“No. I can take it doll. I’m not leaving.” He murmurs, pressing his forehead to your cheek, no matter how much it burns. “I swore to never leave you again.”
It’s then he realizes that you had been speaking to him, you had remembered him and it all makes sense. That blanket of protection you had formed for yourself wasn’t a cocoon from memories. It was keeping this power trapped in tight, your emotions connected to it.
“I can take it. Just let go.”
You scream, pure pain and torture sounding as your body heats even more. There’s a loud shout of both your names, the flash of red white and blue nearby and a dash of red hair lunging to the man holding the shield.
Buckys body freezes up and he keeps you held tight as you unleash that power, finally letting everything you had bottled up go.
He feels nothing but pain, heat and burning the main source. All his bones felt like they were breaking and his heart squeezed in his chest, but he kept his hold on you. Even as he succumbed to the pain and the darkness consumed him.
-
You wake up in your own bed, tucked tightly into a roll of blankets like a worm, body aching. When you struggle to sit up a hand reaches out to help you, sturdy on your side as you blink in the afternoon sunlight.
“Hey there.” The voice is calm, but there is a small hint of panic laced into it. And you already know that Bucky was doing his best to play cool.
“I hurt.” You mumble, closing your eyes and trying to relax your body once more since the pain was just a little too much.
It’s silent for a moment and you’re close to passing back out before there is something pressed to your lips, and immediately your drinking water as Bucky helps you gulp it down.
“Easy.” He mumbles, hissing in pain at the movement on his ribs. You stop drinking finally, gasping for air as he takes the cup away and means to put it on the nightstand, you lay flat, pain in your back splintering.
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ll talk about it all later.” He sighs, flesh hand sliding to find your own as you both succumb to the darkness once more.
-
He awakes with you wrapped in his arms, and he already knows he’s still tense, serum or not your power had done a number on him.
You were still sleeping, curled tight in his arms and your fists clenched in his shirt as everything began focusing in his head.
He had originally woken up in the hospital, body immediately jolting and searching for you as Steve and Sam tried holding him down.
It had taken all but 30 minutes for him to get to where they were keeping you, hanging from Steve and Sam’s arms as they dragged him through the halls.
Your temps were normal, and you were going in and out of consciousness, it was decided that once Bucky was released you would be too. Only you would be taken to your room so you could sleep off some of the powers shock to your system.
Bucky himself had carried you to your room, pain or not, and when he had tried to leave you merely kept ahold of him. He had been with you since.
There is clanking in the kitchen beyond your door and he already knows the team is probably about to bombard you both like mother hens.
“I can hear your heart.” You mumble, voice cracking as you’re just waking up, keeping your ear pressed to his chest l. “It’s really slow.”
“I’m relaxed.” He mumbles back, trying to blink back some of the grogginess. “What was that?”
“A breakdown.”
“Obviously.” He laughs, his sides aching as he does so. “Have you been holding onto all that power this entire time?”
“Yeah. It’s easier to control without stress.” You explain, struggling to sit up. “And lately I’ve been-“
“Cause of me.”
“No…..” you lie, blinking. “Well yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No it’s not.” He sighs, trying to sit up with you, his forehead pressed to your shoulder. “I just….”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I….. I could feel everyone’s pain, and yours was right there.”
“So you know I was avoiding you because-“
“Yes.”
“And you know I -“
“Yes. James.” You smile. “And just for the record, I love you too.”
A smile breaks out on his own face, leaning closer to you as he inhales. “We need to find a better outlet for your power. Because that was terrifying.”
He missed your shoulder then, before leaning to kiss your lips passionately. He would find a way to keep you with him, forever.
-
That outlet became a garden….. more like your very own rainforest.
Any time you felt that power rush up you went there, and just released it to the earth.
(I never posted this series when I originally wrote it awhile ago because I hated the ending. Still do hate it)
TAGLIST:::
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oonajaeadira · 8 months
Text
Detected
Fandom: Merge Mansion / Tim Rockford
Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader
Reader: Adult female. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.
Rating: T. Fluff.
Warnings: Mention of serial killer that targets women.
Summary: Nobody sees you the way Tim does.
A/N: I dunno, I just had a hankering to write for Tim and looked down my list of tropes thinking I might be able to scratch the itch and accomplish a fic for my Year of Tropes at the same time. Something hit me in the right places for a little piece of sweetness, so here we go, with SECRET IDENTITY.
This is really fluffy. Like stupid fluffy. Moreso than my regular stuff. Just let me have my little trope. This one didn't go through a lot of draft revisions, it was just a fun little thot that needed out.
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“Why don’t you take the afternoon off, Sunshine? Get some rest. You’ve been here ten days straight.”
Tim’s the only detective in the unit who talks to you directly, certainly the only one that doesn’t just call you ‘hon’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘girl.’ You’re pretty sure he’s probably the only one in the department that knows your name, but he rarely uses it. 
That isn’t unusual. You’ve always been the quiet one, the mouse, the wallflower. It’s your superpower, being able to go unnoticed. You’ve never been reprimanded, never bad-talked, never held up as a bad example.
But then, neither do you often find yourself praised or called in for opinion. Never once have you been asked to join anyone for happy hour or coffee.
So many times you’ve been standing in a meeting room and not once been addressed. So many times you’ve overheard something that perhaps you shouldn’t have just because you were below anyone’s notice.
It bothered you so much more when you were younger. Not the case anymore.
You’ve learned to love your quiet life, shuffling around the records room, carefully tagging and bagging, filling out the document cards, compiling files, taking meticulous photos of items for court cases and detective scrutiny. Nobody comes looking for you, so you get to take your time, a kind of professional meditation. At least once a week you notice a detail on a piece of evidence that you might make known to one of the team. Usually this gets you a thanks, but more often times a brush off that ends in the detective later gaining the credit for the discovery.
Tim is different. Observant. He actually listens when you bring him something of interest and asks for your opinion or your second eye. He still does that thing where he puts the pictures of people and evidence you provide up on the wall and connects it with string. He will stare at that board for hours, getting up every now and then to pace, then turning the chair around to straddle it backwards so he can lean over the back and look again, hoping to find the one connection that the string can’t touch.
And yet, even when he’s concentrating this hard, he’s fully aware of his surroundings.
So much so that he even notices you’ve slipped into the room to stand behind him--you, who goes mostly unnoticed when standing in full view of most people.
When you don’t answer him, he turns his chin back over his shoulder, his sharp profile coming into relief against the organized mess of the illuminated case wall. 
He’s so very handsome. And it’s a shame he doesn’t seem to know. Or care.
Snapping free of your musings, you finally answer. “Yeah, it’s been a busy week. I’ve still got the Murray case to document. There’s a lot of entries.”
Turning fully to look at you now, he takes his time formulating a new response. “That case is closed. There’s no hurry. You work too hard. It’s Saturday.”
You shrug and smile. “I like my job. And you're one to talk.” Nodding to the evidence wall, you step more fully into the room. “Any movement on this? Sure I can’t help you? Anything I can pull from archives?”
This is a tough one. There’s a lot of speculation as to the mangled bodies in the pictures. A new one found last night, a week old. The probability is high that there’s one club downtown that’s producing them all and a definite suspect, but the record’s clean. There’s no grounds for warrants.
He gives you one more thoughtful glance before turning back to his work. “Not unless you have anything that correlates this last one to Club 88 or to Mike Cross. But no. Thanks. Get out of here, live your life, be free. I’m gonna go grab an interview out at the pier but then I’ll be here all night.”
He’s hungry. You can see that look in his eyes, he’s close, he just needs that one connecting piece of evidence and he’ll empty the coffee pots in the breakroom tonight looking for one.
“You’re hungry, Detective Rockford. At least let me call in some takeout for you before I go? Lau’s number 22 with chicken, right?”
He simply nods. “Thanks, Sunshine.”
“You got it, Detective.”
—-
Your pager goes off two hours later.
Special case. Could use your help. Pier 13.
You’ve been waiting for the call.
Upon arriving home from the department, you’d closed your blinds and turned off the lights, pulled on the dark pants and long fitted coat, tucked your hair up under the black hood and pulled it low. Gloves. Boots. Plain and unassuming in this fall weather.
You’re able to walk out the back door of your apartment building and take a path through the alley as the sun is setting without anyone giving you a second glance.
The only piece of your disguise you truly need is the vocal changer mask, but that stays tucked in your coat pocket until you arrive at the pier.
Once you can smell the water, you take a moment to hide your face, your voice, and your identity under the dark, nondescript mask–a blank slate of void where a face should be–before stepping out of the alleys and making your way to pier 13 where Tim Rockford stands looking out over the harbor at the lights starting to come on over the bridge.
“What can I do for you, Detective?” The voice that grates out of your mask is low, warped, almost sultry.
Tim, for all his awareness, misses your entrance. This is the strength of your powers. Snapping out of his reverie, he spins to find you only feet away, your long coat fluttering in the breeze.
And an awed smile spreads across his face.
Tim is the only one on the force that smiles when you show up as the Shadow. The rest of the cops tend to startle, recoil, not understanding how you simply seem to appear out of the air, unfold from the shadows, melt into the darkness itself.
“Thanks for coming, Shadow,” he says, his trenchcoat joining in the fluttering conversation of overwear. Pulling a few pictures out of his pocket, he holds them out and you take them.
A new mangled body. A hurried photo of a man with light skin and dark hair and blue eyes. A blown-up scan of license plate. You recognize them from his evidence board but say nothing, letting him make the request.
He explains the supposed serial killings, the patterns, the suspect, the license plate that isn’t his but was caught on surveillance near a couple of the dumping grounds.
“I’m pretty sure it’s him,” he concludes, poking at the photo of Mike Cross, “but I’m lacking something damming.”
“You mean you're 100% sure it's him. You're a thorough man; wouldn't just jump to conclusions. And you want me to go hunting.”
“I’d rather you just go take a listen. I don’t really want you to put yourself in danger.”
It’s a good thing he can’t see you smile. Trust Tim Rockford to be the one detective that worries about the safety of the city’s resident secret, pacifist vigilante. 
“I’m touched by your concern, Detective. But I haven’t been caught yet. Even if danger catches a glimpse of me, I’m very good at hiding.”
“I know. But it’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.” He smiles a little sadly. “I wish you wouldn’t hide from me. But I know why you do.”
It should be surprising–it’s not like him to cross this line–but instead, his statement warms you. Tim has always been grateful for the Shadow’s help, respectful, believed in your ability. But he’s also come to treat the Shadow as a friend. There’s something that tugs at your heart, knowing this dedicated, handsome, intelligent man truly trusts you but also respects and admires your limitations.
If only he knew how much you wish you could tell him, show him, let him know how much you admire him too.
He only blinks when you seem to melt into thin air, becoming one with the lengthening shadows.
_____
Club 88. The back alley. A black car belonging to Mike Cross. Nobody here to notice you but the rats as you duck around the back and inspect the bumper, find a magnetized plate cover hidden underneath that matches the photo in your pocket.
There’s the connection. Now for something that threads the needle.
_____
Maskless and hatless, you simply take up a serving tray and follow Mike Cross and a young pretty thing through the swinging “employees only” door and down a back corridor of the dark, thumping night club. Making yourself busy with empty bottles on the tray, you watch him pay a man and step into a private room with the girl. The man goes to find something else to do, nearly knocking your shoulder as he passes, as if you’re simply a tower of inventory boxes or a rogue tray of dirty dishes…or just some random hostess he doesn’t have time for.
Easy.
You’re able to enter the dimmed room under the guise of bringing in bottle service. The couple doesn’t even notice you while they make out on the couch in the VIP lounge. You simply dip your hand into the pocket of the jacket he’s left on a chair and lift his wallet. 
Might as well take the gun that’s there too. Just in case.
Time to get moving while he’s distracted.
_____
Using the address on the ID in his wallet, you make your way across town.
It’s easy enough to slip past the doorman. Unfortunately though, Mike’s apartment building has security cameras on every floor. This calls for a little distraction. Easy enough. All you need is the pad of paper and pen you carry in your pocket.
Knock on door 312. Explain you’re responding to a noise complaint in apartment 313. There is no apartment 313? That’s odd. Maybe it was apartment 311? 
When the occupants of 311 and 312 speculate over the possibilities–which apartment was the loud one? Who called in the complaint? They bet it was 211 down there, what a bitch….
It’s just enough time for you to use your jiggler key to work open the lock for Mike’s apartment and slip inside. Not only have they seemed to forgotten about you, but if anyone ever plays back the security tapes, their eyes will just slide right over you and concentrate on the gossiping neighbors in the hall.
Mike’s apartment is clean and sparse. By the looks of the set up of the living room, he likes to sit in the center of the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table while he drinks his beer (water ring stains on the veneer top) and watches tv. Not much on the walls. Books on the bookshelf, but no knicknacks.
You don’t know what you’re looking for yet, but you’ll know it when you find it.
There are a few places you start. The drawers in the kitchen. The freezer. The bedside table. Shelves in the closet. Medicine cabinet. Somewhere you'd stash something unassuming but precious but that you don't want anyone else to come across and ask questions.
But it’s as you pass back out through the bedroom, and lightly push the door open a bit wider that you hear a clinking and tapping on the other side.
There, hanging off a hook on the back of the bedroom door, is a silver chain.
With five women’s rings on it.
Yahtzee.
You snap a few photos with your phone before moving through the apartment again, looking for anything else, just in case your first instincts were wrong.
But your instincts are very rarely wrong.
Criminals love trophies. Little keepsakes of their thrills. Look for a collection of something that seems out of place and you’ve probably found your clue.
You’re just about to call it good and head out when you hear a key turning in the lock.
No need to panic, you’ve got this.
As Mike enters and kicks off his shoes before making his way to the bathroom, all you have to do is stand silently beside the far side of the bookshelf.
He doesn’t even turn on the light. Even easier.
Once the bathroom door closes, you’re able to silently slip out.
“It’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.”
Doubtful, Tim. But I wish I could tell you how sweet your concern is.
____
True to form, Tim’s is one of the only lights burning at the office when you slide through the department well after midnight.
It’s not often that you show up here as the Shadow, but you make sure it’s only at night when most of the lights are out. Even if you’re seen engaging with one of them, the detectives all know to look the other way and not to ask questions when someone on the force has requested your services. 
They see nothing, and say less.
When you get to the back offices, you have to stop for a moment in the shadows and take in the scene.
Tim’s here in the dim room, standing at a desk full of evidence bags. The one with the knife in it lays on a lightbox, the glow of which reaches up to caress his face, dragging at his cheeks and the bags under his eyes, his brow and bottom lip succumbing to the pull of contemplation.
You have to wonder if the detective has any joys outside of his work, if he reads or paints, if he’s into woodworking or collecting memorabilia. You often find yourself wishing you had the means to learn more about him and find yourself watching him from across the office as if you could read it in the stretch of his aching neck, in the hunch of his gun-holstered shoulders. 
But you’ve grown used to your quiet life. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if someone else actually paid you enough attention to let you into their life–
“What have you got for me?” he asks, and you flinch. He hadn’t even turned around.
“Plenty," you rasp through the voice modulator. "How did you know I was here?”
“I always notice you,” he says. “And I could ask you the same thing.”
“Where else would you be?”
“I have a home.”
“Do you ever go there?”
He laughs and finally turns. “Yeah, not lately.”
Emerging from the darkness, you hand him a few photos you ran off from your phone at home, knowing he'd appreciate the analog. There's the plate cover. The ID. The chain of rings. You also hand over the gun you pinched. “Just in case you need to run a match on any casings.”
It’s here that Tim’s look grows sour. “You took this off him?” Then he tilts his head, scanning the photos. “This one…taken inside his house?”
“Yes. Most likely a collection of his trophies–”
“You went into his house??”
His intensity stops you. Something’s….wrong. “It was necessary. I wasn’t seen.”
“I told you, nothing dangerous. What if he’d come home?”
“He did.” This gains an unprecedented look of alarm from the otherwise calm and calculated man. “I told you, Detective, I wasn’t seen. I never am. That’s what I do.”
“That’s not the point, Sunshine. He murders women and dumps their bodies. This is different from the drug smugglers and counterfeit runners you usually surveil…”
He stops, registering what he just said only a couple of seconds after you do, a calm sigh of regret washing over him before being replaced by the bloom of concern.
You could choose to ignore it.
But it's useless. Tim would never let an assumption take hold as truth unless he had absolute proof. He’s the best. The best of the best and doesn’t even know it. So long you’ve wished to tell him, to make him see what you see in him, but it would mean opening yourself, becoming visible, being seen.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is your superpower, this anonymity, this blurring at the edges, this void of connection…
And you should back away when he approaches.
But you don't want to. 
Nor do you dodge as he slowly reaches up to remove your mask. Your hood. Fits his palm to your jaw and runs the length of a cheekbone with his thumb. “It doesn’t work on everyone, Sunshine. Not if they really want to see you.”
As his warm, weary brown eyes find yours, two thick, generous tears spill down your cheeks, two surprising hot spikes of your heart right there on your face. It’s like being thrust underwater without the chance to take a breath, the panic of suddenly being the center of someone’s attention, and you gasp for air only to release a sob, slapping both hands to your face in embarrassment.
Tim doesn’t pry your hands away, he merely runs a knuckle over one as if to say, hey, you’re still hiding.
And you realize that you are.
When you finally don’t have to be.
When you lower your guard, he’s waiting there patiently to welcome you back.
“You okay?” he asks, handing you a napkin for your tears.
Nodding, you take it and use it quietly before swallowing, trying to steady a voice out in the open. “What now?”
He looks pointedly over at his desk and gestures for you to head over there. “I thought maybe we’d start with dinner. I figured you'd come by.”
There are two Chinese takeout boxes on the blotter, both bearing a code in black ink. 
22C. His standard.
Lucky13. Your favorite. With the sauces on the side, just like you like it.
Speechless, you look at him in awe. You do see me.
And he tucks his hands in his pockets, softening back at you with a look that can only be described as Yeah.
_____
In the following days you’re able to hunt down photos of the killer’s victims that clearly display their hands and the rings that you found in his apartment.
Undercover targets are planted in the club to entice Mike Cross, and sure enough, he takes one to the back room, pays for privacy, extra for a later cleanup, but gets caught with his fingers around her throat as a whole squad breaks down the door to take him into custody.
There’s no doubt he will never see the outside of a prison again.
Club 88 is shut down and a long investigation into its ownership and practices begin. The Shadow is called in by the investigating team for your fly-on-the-wall services and at first you’re afraid that perhaps, now that you’ve been seen, that the shine of your powers has dimmed or–to be more precise–a newfound confidence makes you even brighter than before.
On the contrary, you’ve never felt more powerful or more in control of your abilities. 
Perhaps because the one person who can detect your sunshine also pours pride into your shadow.
Or maybe it’s the regular diet of Lucky Number 13 and a new morning view these days. Who’s to say?
____
MASTERLIST
CHARACTER MASTERLIST
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