#can’t wait to draw on my new tablet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rojacatmisa · 3 days

Text

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2 > Chapter 3

Starting over in Madrid Chapter 4 : Hell Clasico

"You don’t come after training because we’re still grounded ?"

Misa’s text made my heart lifted. With the Clasico and games abroad coming, I had a huge amount of work that was keeping me out of the stadium. I had shut myself in my office for three days now, importing, retouching photos, thinking about the next games’s visuals… Due to the fact that resisting the goalkeeper was becoming more and more difficult, I had to admit I was relieved to be able to avoid her.

I thought a moment about what to answer. As soon as she had stood up from that bench on the evening at the park, Misa had been her funny self again. She had joked happily. We had said goodbye at the entrance of the parking. Like friends do. If she had been disappointed, she had been hiding it well.

And now she was texting about me for not coming to our photo meeting in a casual yet flirty way again…

"Feels like I’m the grounded one… work is having me trapped in my office!" I texted back.

"👉🤓"

"🫠👋"

She started typing and stopped. Her text bubble didn’t reappeared. I sighted. I hated having to be distant with her. I sighted again and buried myself back into work.

Fifteen minutes later, loud erratic knocks boomed against the door of my office. "What…?". Without waiting, Misa, Hayley and Sofie burst into the room. "Here she is ! You believed to could get rid of us that easy Nicky?" Hayley asked while the three girls came around my desk. Misa had bring a ball and severals biscuits with her. "What are doing here?!" I said already annoyed. I had a feeling they weren’t here to help me…

"We’re checking if you’re still Nicky and not a robot." Misa dropped the biscuits on my desk and started to play with her ball, making it rebound between her foot and thigh. Sofie was leaning toward my computer’s screen. "Do you have new photos of me?". Hayley was observing my cameras under every angles. "I’ve never seen this one, would you recommend it Nicky?" The dull sound of the ball rebounding rhythmically was constantly filling the room. I wasn’t believing how fast they had created such a mess.

"Guys, a girl needs to focus right now!" I said, eyes closed, a hand on my forehead. "Oh, you can keep working, don’t mind us." Hayley had taken a camera and was back at taking pictures. Sofie joined Misa and they went passing each other the ball. There was no way I was going to be able de concentrate in this chaos.

Edit just ten more photos tonight. I said to myself. I grabbed back my pencil and graphic tab, opened a photo of Olga striking, and started to erase an unwanted grass twigs on one of her socks.

On the corner of my eye, I saw Misa’s face approaching the screen while chewing a mouthful of biscuits. "What’s this? Are you drawing?" She pointed at my tablet. The sound of the ball was still resounding, Sofie had taken over. A few crumbles fell off the goalkeeper’s mouth. "Misa! The keyboard !" I blowed hard on it to make them go away. "Perdòn!" She stood back and tried to swallow her snack. She gestured to me to explain again.

That girl can be such a pain !

"No, I can’t draw, I’m just correcting details. A pen is more precise that a mouse". I said to her.

"Oh vale ! Can I try It ?" I glared at her. "I mean not now! When you have the time. And… I can teach you football in exchange". She ended up showing an innocent smile.

That girl will drive me mad!

"Misa! Leave Nicky alone and come to my IG Live, the fans wants to see you !" Sofie called from the farthest corner.

"Coming! Nicky, take a biscuit, son muy buenos!"

They kept going like this until they were forced to leave with me. I had painfully managed to do half the work I wanted to be over. Tomorrow is another day, they say.

***

Alas, next day was just the same. They came after their practice and occupied themselves more loudly than ever until my boss finally came to have them go away. With all of that, it was miracle I had finished everything at a rather early time on the eve of the Clasico. That meant I could attend the motivation speech that followed today’s training session.

Sitting in the stands, the speech wasn’t captivating after all. Maybe I hadn’t enough knowledge of football to really get it but I found it lasting forever. The players weren't into it either. Olga’s legs were showing signs of impatience. Linda was slowly drifting. But despite my tiredness, I wanted to check on Misa and Hayley, so I kept waiting.

I caught them at the building exit. I could sensed their nervousness behind the frank smiles they both gave me as a greeting.

"Hey Nicky, great speech eh..?" Hayley hugged me, she was so tensed. "Thanks for waiting but I need go home. I’m off, girls, see you tomorrow !" Misa patted her shoulder as she left and she roughly brushed her hair in return.

I turned to the goalkeeper. "How are you coping?" I asked her gently. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "Estoy bien…", she answered peering down, her foot kicking at the floor vainly. She obviously wasn’t.

"Do you want to walk ?" I said without any back thoughts. I just wanted to help my friend to feel a bit better. She nodded.

We went touring the sport campus. We tried to talked about anything but the Clasico. At first, Misa was jumping in place every now and then to get rid of her stress. She relaxed when we started teasing each other.

"Misa, you can’t be with a ball without showing off! That’s insane!".

She smirked. "I’m athlete Nicky! Football is my life, of course I play with my ball all the time". She side glance at me, her mischievous tone and a satisfied smile back. "I did 65 rebounds yesterday."

I giggled "Is that much ?". Misa’s both disappointed and irritated air had me laughing out loud.

She slapped me on the arm "Jajaja, muy divertido! Enhorabuena Nicky! I don’t care about what a girl who work al Real and knows nothing about football thinks!"

It was my turn to faint annoyance. "I see trainer Misa is long gone before she even started… you are a very reliable person." She opened her mouth but was out of answer. I had had her sulking again. Grumpy Misa was one of my favorite.

I took a pleading look. "All right, you are the best Misa! Eres la mejor! Now, when do we start training ?" I was sure the training part would lift her spirit.

She side-eyed me again, still vexed. "Have you at least ever play football ?".

I pretended to search my mind. "It happened... twice maybe. First was at school, and second on the alley in front of my parent’s house".

She snorted. "No es posible…" She shook her head and continued, her voice suddenly curious. "For real, why did you want to work for a football club?" Her mocking tone gone had me really wonder how much I wanted to tell.

"I needed a change in my life. Anything was… not going well. I had a rough break up and was really unhappy in my previous job…"

"I’m sorry to hear that" she said with a concerned look.

I half laughed half sighted. "It’s ok now. I’m glad to be here. I really like Madrid". We were reaching the exit of the building again.

"Bueno… and do you like your new job too ?"

"Yes, I’m quite found of it… and of my new exasperating friends" I went back teasing her a little as we headed to the parking.

"I’m happy you’re good with us", she said, not reacting on the teasing part this time.

We arrived in the middle of the car park. I didn’t know if we were going in the same direction so I gestured on the right "I’m parked this way".

"I’m parked over here but I’ll go with you to your car, I can do with a bit more walk" she replied although she sounded far less stressed now.

We reached my vehicle and faced each other to say goodbye. "Thanks Nicky" Misa softy spoke. Her features were less drawn. The walk had soothed her a little.

"You’re looking better. Are you sure you’re ready to go home ?" I inquired one last time.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Instead she simply smiled and looked away. "Misa?" I frowned not knowing how to help her anymore.

Her head turned back to me. She bit her lip and her eyes stopped on mine. Then she slowly moved forward. My brows went up, having me frozen in a surprised look as she took my hands in hers, and I knew that that was it, that there’s was no escaping this time, and that I didn’t gave a fuck.

I half closed my eyes, my head slightly bowed while she leant over. My gaze stayed on her quivering mouth as she approached mine. At last, she pressed her lips. I let out a short breath. I was surprise by the tenderness of her kiss. Her mouth was soft, its movements slow.

I kissed her back. Letting relief fill me up. Completely abandoning myself as her taste and scent washed over me. Our noses brushed against each other. The grip of our hands tighten as we went on kissing, softly still, slowly still.

Finally, she withdrew her lips from mine, a soft smile lingering on them, having me missing their contact immediately. My eyes couldn’t leave hers.

"I’m ready now" she whispered. I exhale and shyly smiled and she released my hands. "Good night Nicky ». She stepped back and turned over. My gaze followed her until she disappeared behind the birch trees growing between the parking spaces.

***

Aitana Bonmati was running fast, dribbling everyone coming for her. She armed her strike and shoot between Ivana and Olga toward the penalty area. The ball landed right on Salma precise foot who immediately kicked hard at the upper left corner of the goal. Misa jumped with all her strength and the tip of gloves deflated the ball, preventing Barcelona to strike once again.

The match had been hard and demanding from the very beginning. Barça team had been pressing Real Madrid players, having them constantly cornered near their penalty area. Misa had already saved five goals but as Mariona Caldentey had outpasted all the defenders for the third time and send a particularly well aimed kick to Caroline Graham Hansen, the goalkeeper had gone on the wrong direction and the ball had rolled easily in the cage. Misa had sweared, gotten up, and send a long clearance skillfully recovered by Hayley. Hayley was a fast runner too. She had passed the ball to Athenea, who had dribble passed Irene Paredes and used the one second of disorganization to find Linda. The kick from Linda’s head had miraculously flied through the expert gloves of Cata Coll, and crashed on the net behind her, filling the stadium with unexpected joy.

Returning from the halftime, Barça had pressed harder harder without succeeding at scoring yet an other goal. After a clever discussion in locker room during the break, the real Madrid was holding well against them for the first time, Misa’s many saves putting and end to theirs brilliant sequences of passes. And the unbelievable had happened at de 78th min. Naomie had succeeded at loosing Alexia Putellas’marker to get the ball from Oihane’s throw-in. Her quick arched shot had found Olga on the left side, who had managed a shot worthy of the World Cup. She had stricken from her rather distant position straight at the right upper corner, giving Cata Coll an impossible job. The stadium had burst screaming, echoing Madrid players all hugging together to celebrate their first time ever leading Barcelona.

It was extra time when Misa’s body crashed on the grass again from saving Salma’s strike. The Madrid player were back at having a hard time. I could see they were physically drained, their feet barely touching the ball anymore.

They all took position, ready for the corner, Misa giving directions to her teammates as she prepared herself for the upcoming action. Salma struck. She crossed the ball back from the goal line. The ball descended on Alexia in a perfect neat curve before she sent it crashing to the net. Barcelona had come up to the score, victory slipping through the Madrid girls'fingers at the 95th minute. Now, the match was going extra time. I saw Misa down in her attempt to save to ball, kicking the grass with her fists in frustration. As well trained as they were, the team was exhausted. With Barça clearly dominating, the extra time was going to be a living hell.

Misa passed by me as she exit the tunnel to ran toward her goal after the short break. I took a shot of her face, a mix of deep concentration and extreme fatigue. My heart sank. I had been covering the match with other photographers from the start, trying hard to focus on my job rather than on the ongoing actions and the increasing pressure on Misa.

The game resumed. Madrid team formed two compact lines in front of the goal. They had received new guidelines: keep on defending and don’t take another goal at all cost. Their strategy, and Ivana’s agile foot prevented a new shot on target finding the net. The only two more attempts of Madrid met Cata’s gloves, her clearance sending the ball back on their half pitch again. But, they hold on again and again the entire the first half of extra time.

During the second, fouls and cramps multiplied on each sides, chopping the play in numerous sloppy actions and hardening the footballer’s job by giving them unnecessary minor injuries. Misa’s attempt to grab a shot by Mariona sent her rolling on ground and her knee hit the goal-post. The ball luckily found the cross-bar and was quickly cleared by Kathellen. But Misa was still down, grasping her knee between the puffy fingers of her gloves. I shuddered. No please! Let not it be a serious injury! I silently prayed. The medical staff came over after the referee had blown the whistle. With several of her teammates surrounding, I could barely see what was going on.

I waited, trying to breathe properly, not looking at the last picture I took of Misa, curled up on the grass, her features distorted by pain. After what was feeling like a hour, the med staff went away and the small crowd scattered, revealing Misa standing on her feet again, though she was breathing hard and slightly limping. I relaxed a little.

The goalkeeper settled back in front of her caged but she gave the ball to Ivana for her to do a long clearance. She clearly hadn’t the strength anymore. The ball was back in her penalty area in a heartbeat but the match had Madrid finally find the key to put up a very strong defence. When the whistle blew again, it was to put an end to the game at last.

The penalty shoot out would decide the winner of the Copa de la Reina. More than ever, the outcome of the match was now resting mostly on Misa’s shoulders.

The goalkeeper and the rest of the team gathered around the trainer near the bench. I crossed eyes with Misa and I smiled, my fist clenched up in the air to show her my support. She didn’t seemed to see me. Nothing exists apart from the game when she was playing.

Madrid opened the shoot out with Olga. She shot, scored. Cheers burst.

Misa jumped on her line. Caroline Graham Hansen scored as well.

Claudia kicked hard on her right but Cata had understand where she was aiming. Her body blocked the ball, having Barça yelling in triumph.

Aitana scored.

Athenea scored.

Mariona scored.

Hayley scored.

Last ball. All was resting on Misa. If she failed the ball, everything was over.

Alexia armed her leg. Kicked. The ball flew on the opposite of the goalkeeper.

It was it. Madrid had lost. I forgot to take pictures, focusing on the limp body of Misa still laying on her back, her gloves on her face. As the Barcelona players hugged together in victory, the sturdy figure of Alexia was crouched at Misa side, muttering to her words I could not hear. She heaved Misa to her feet, helped her taking off her gloves. I could see her face wet with tears, her eyes puffed and closed as she was still sobbing. They leaved the pitch, Alexia’s arm over Misa’s shoulders. One of other photograph was shooting restlessly at them while they headed toward the tunnel. I couldn’t suppress a surge of anger.

I got up, quickly took the steps that separated me from the man with the camera.

"Give her a rest ok ?!" I shouted in his direction. The man stared blankly at me, astonished. In addition to my strange behavior, he probably wasn’t speaking English.

Noticing my action, Misa and Alexia had stopped. When she saw me close, Misa lowered her head as if she couldn’t bear to look at me. Alexia stared kindly at me, guilt still her eyes as she knew she had partly caused the sadness of her friend.

"I can take her to the locker room if you want" I said, instantly shocked by my own words when I couldn’t leave my job.

Misa lifted her face again. Alexia looked at the goalkeeper to see if she was ok with that. Misa nodded and I took over Alexia to guide her through the tunnel.

I made Misa sat on the farthest bench of the locker room. Everything was quiet here, the screeches of the celebration only a distant echo. The goalkeeper had stopped crying. Her board shoulders and muscular body seemed so fragile somehow. I took a seat beside her, not knowing what to do now it was up to me to comfort her.

"I’m sorry" I simply said.

"We were so close!" she cried. "Let’s just go! I don’t want to be there, I don’t want the puta silver medal again!" She blown her nose hard and rubbed her red eyes with a towel laying by. Exhaustion was oosing from her at every levels.

"No Misa you can’t go" I responded and caught a surprised side eye, as surprise as she could be in her current state. "You can’t go because everything’s not about wining or being better or best ! You can’t go because football doesn’t have to be that. It’s not about the score, the cup or whatever. Football is an emotion, a battle, a shared experience. And first and foremost it’s a spectacle and you put on one hell of a show as a team and as a player tonight! If you go, nothing remain, it would mean nothing. You have to go back Misa."

Silence settled between us. I felt exposed and embarrassed by the words I had just spoken. It was ridiculous, saying obvious things like that to a seasoned footballer when I was barely discovering the sport.

The goalkeeper exalted deeply. "You lied to me" she said, gotten me confused. She chuckled softy "You acted like you didn’t know a thing about football". She painfully stood up and waved me to do the same. "But you do" she said smiling as we faced each other. The tall woman pulled me into a hug, her head resting on my shoulder and I hold her tight against me. I gently stroked her back, her jersey was wet and she was clearly stinking of sweat but I didn’t care. I just wanted us to stay like this, clump together.

After a few minutes, we parted and smiled softy at each other. In spite of her weariness, Misa was looking less drained. She was waiting for... something while expectantly looking at me. Her dimples back with her grin enlighten her tired face. I kept smiling, my mind racing to figure out what I should do, what I could do… what I wanted do to. When she thought I wouldn’t do anything, Misa’s smile faded a little and she started to turn around.

"Misa, wait…" I grabbed her arm and pulled her back against me. I only took a glimpse of her surprised yet eager face before I kissed her.

I grasped her face, pressed her mouth harder against mine. Misa let out a whine, the sound of it had my body set afire. I slowly made her step back until she hit the lockers room’s door. She gasped at the contact, put one of her hand in my hair, the other gripping the fabric of the bottom of my shirt. She opened her lips, her taste filled me up entirely and had me moan with want.

Our heated kiss had enlighten all my senses and turned my body into white iron. I felt my hand acting on her own as it went under Misa’s jersey and up her abs. She wimped again, her own fingers going under my shirt and touching the skin of my waist. Her soft and full lips were enveloping my mouth, our breathings had become jerky.

Fevered by my desire of her, I led my hand down her stomach to the strap of her shorts. She groaned and froze. "Wow! Nicky wait…" I stopped neat. She took her hands off my back and gently seized my face. "I have to go back" she said, a burning gaze on me. I breathed, trying to tame the flames devouring my insides. I smiled and repeated, "You have to go back". She placed a last kiss on my lips and got off the room.

Right now, Hell Clasico was finishing on a heavenly note.

***

#woso #misa rodriguez #espwnt #fanfic #futbolista #real madrid femenino #spain wnt #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez fanfic #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #womens football #hayley raso #fanfic art #woso blurbs #woso x reader

43 notes · View notes

artsyspinch · 7 months

Text

Four years ago, I drew my first ever finished digital art piece, using a Huion 420 tablet off of Amazon, and Krita. I was so proud of it, I showed it off to my friends and family on instagram, and I didn’t think I could get any better than this. Fast forward to the next year, and I drew it again, just to see how much better I could make it.

This time I used a Wacom tablet with Krita. It was one of the cheaper ones, but still an upgrade. I was even more proud of this one, but I wasn’t really that happy with it. I didn’t like how Papyrus turned out, and it seemed so awkwardly spaced and posed. I knew I still had more to learn, and I rushed it, since I didn’t think I could do any better. I then decided to redraw it again the next year.

This time I used Ibis Paint X and a small stylus on my phone. I was ecstatic with how this came out. I thought this was the absolute best I could ever do, but I still had little nitpicks about it. Again, I struggled a lot with drawing Papyrus, but this time I was also unhappy with the colors and shading, and how Sans was drawn (I have no idea why I made him thicc). But again, I redrew it the next year.

This one was a huge confidence booster for me. I had just gotten a brand new laptop from my parents: A Lenovo Yoga, with a Wacom bamboo ink stylus. It was the best gift I ever received, but on top of that, they got me Clip Studio Paint PRO. So I was ready to make some good ass art. This time I sketched everything out on paper, then finished it in CSP. I even attempted a background, which didn’t come out too bad. Papyrus doesn’t look horribly off model, and the poses and composition overall was just better. I used a clean sketch for the lineart, since that was a big struggle with my previous versions, and I used colors other than black and white for shading. After I made this, I felt like I didn’t need to continue redrawing it, because I thought I was at my peak.

I redrew it this year.

I used my Lenovo Yoga, but this time I had a Wacom bamboo plus, and Clip Studio Paint EX. I added more characters, and took a little bit more inspiration from the original, but I mostly wanted it to feel more alive. I finally perfected how I draw Papyrus, and Toriel, Asgore, and Frisk aren’t statues anymore. I showed off what I’ve learned about lighting and shading, did actually clean lineart, and I even did a full background! I’m so proud of this, and so happy with how far I’ve come as an artist, and I can’t wait to see what my future self draws next year.

88 notes · View notes

mako-neexu · 7 months

Text

カドぐだ | 相棒 (partner)

“So this is the rumored ‘Gil-fes’, huh?” Kaodc heaved a heavy sigh as he tugged at his black shirt before clutching at the strap of the backpack he had in hand. “Oi, Fujimaru, where’s the venue for this...tournament?”

According to the archives, someone hosts this... martial arts tournament for the Servants using a Holy Grail. And that someone was either Emperor Nero or King Gilgamesh himself... like last year, and the couple years before.

But who knows who was going to host next year’s event!?

Wait. Why is he thinking about the possibilities of an event like this in the future!?

Gudako hummed as she finished in tying her unlaced boots, “Well, Gil said it’s going to be at Madison Square Garden like last year. But for the rooms we booked in the nearest hotels? We have yet to find out!”

Her arm looped around his own and before he could react to it, they were off on the streets with his ever-reckless kouhai hollering like a maniac.

Please. Someone help him.

They ended up farming again throughout the whole ordeal, collecting hotdogs and fries as currency to exchange with Ishtar’s-former-consort-now-turned....golden sheep, Dumuzid.

And he thought Fujimaru was describing the god as someone humanoid! Jeez! Did he really interpret that wrong!?

Even with all the craziness he can’t quite get used to yet, it was actually fun.

And it even felt... a little normal since it felt as if it was the current timeline’s New York, just with some more colorful additions- and okay, he nearly got his face bashed by Spartacus for just getting shoved in front of him before getting declared as an oppressor for “standing” in his way.

So, on second thought, he wasn’t going to get used to this.

“Making Doujins!?”

“Yup!”

“Just to retrieve the Holy Grail and stop this time loop we’re stuck in!?”

“Uh-huh! So you better get your butt back to the drawing board, Kadoc-kun.” The way Gudako teased him with the honorific, and he felt faint about the situation.

They spent most of the week chilling and spent the last few days procrastinating. And somehow they discover along the way that time is repeating itself, with the reset being the day of judging the most popular doujin contest.

From across him Hinak- Yu Mei-ren seethes while glaring at her tablet, the pen she had on hand nearly cracking in her grasp, “If I don’t get back to Xiang Yu-sama within the week, I’ll blow this island up.”

Help.

“Fujimaru.”

“Yes, Kadoc-kun?”

Kadoc looks at the gothic, medieval castle, before reclining his head up to the large, upside-down pyramid, and the Himeji castle sitting on that same pyramid itself.

Kadoc blinks, and turns to look at the Master beside him, smiling as if this was something that could normally be seen in everday life.

“You know what? Nevermind.”

They were promptly turned into a wageslaves by the Amazonesdotcom CEO after that.

“Was it fun?”

Fujimaru asks him as she lightly kicks on the pool’s waters, watching it ebb and flow beneath them.

Kadoc sips on a cocktail Moriarty had given him, before pursing his lips shit, “What? The entire thing with Las Vegas? Jeanne d’Arc’s talking-shark? Wait, actually, that’s 42nd of the most weirdest things I’ve seen in my list.”

She rests her head on his shoulder, no doubt now sleepy as they spend the last few days of their vacation in the comfort of the hotel.

“...Something like that.” She says, after a few moments.

The question was...weird. Fun was a concept he was still becoming familiar with. After all, all he’s ever known was to become a mage to survive a world that could kill you at a moment’s notice.

Even with the near-death experiences, and things that could easily break a normal person’s mind (he had only gotten so far by being a mage who had a decent amount of spells with him that maintained his reason and sense of self. Fujimaru had none and yet she was still smiling despite the fuckery happening almost every moment of the day.), he supposes that...

“-I guess it was ugh, crazy...” Kadoc mutters under his breath, a dust of pink decorating his cheeks.

Some Servants didn’t trust him, others were the opposite, many varied in their opinions on him but at least, all of them no longer deemed him hostile. As evidence by how he’s somehow alive and breathing right now.

Fujimaru stirs, and they meet each others’ gazes. Her own was reflecting the stars above, a ghost of a smile spread across her lips, “Good crazy?”

He avoids her gaze and downs the last of his drink.

Her response was a chuckle. “I’ll take it that you don’t like the times whenever we rode on Drake’s ship or anything that involved motion sickness.”

Kadoc flicked her forehead, and while she yelped, there was no helping himself in pinching her cheek, “No shit Sherlock.”

“I am right behind you, Mr. Zemlupus.”

The heart attack he got simultaneously made him scream before pushing him and Fujimaru to the pool to drown.

When they surfaced, they both glared at the laughing detective relaxing on the pool chaise.

And seeing Ritsuka smirk deviously with a plan to prank the Holmes?

Kadoc was in.

#gudako #kadoc zemlupus #fgo #fate grand order #kadoguda #again bc skebfkajebfajl

68 notes · View notes

lunamaraproject · 2 months

Text

LUNAMARA: Fragments [8]

👑

The old paper crinkles pleasantly under Felix’s fingers. For all he loves the sleek design of the tablets he usually teaches from, sometimes the tactile realness of paper is more enjoyable. Plus, when it comes to educating the princess, such luxurious materials are nigh on expected, so he can get away with requesting them.

“So this is you,” he explains as Elsie leans halfway over the desk, her hair spilling over her shoulders and nearly blocking his view.

“It doesn’t look like me,” she critiques with the honesty one can only expect from a girl barely 60. She grabs the nearest pencil and starts drawing hair and a dress onto the anatomical model.

“Okay, you fix it. Will you listen to my explanation while you fix it?”

“Mmhmm!”

She’s fairly good at multitasking, so he presses on. “When you eat manna, it goes down into your stomach here,” he both holds his hand on his belly, and taps on the diagram with his highlighter. Helpfully, she draws a star where he tapped. “Yes, there. Once it’s in your stomach, your body takes the manna, and breaks it down. What does it break it down into?”

“I dunno,” she says first, but he waits, until eventually she hedges a guess. “Maen?”

“Yes!” he grins brightly. “Maen is the energy that makes up all magic in the universe. It’s actually a shortening of ‘magical energy’, neat right?”

Elsie is too busy adding frills to the hem of her dress to actually agree with him about how interesting etymology is. A shame.

“Once the maen is in your body, it travels around it on the maen circuits. They run right next to your veins and nerves, and have special ‘pools’ all over, where the maen gathers. Can you draw more stars where I point?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and he begins working around the body. First, travelling up the chest, then the neck, then the head. She has to draw the stars very small here, because there are so many points particularly on the face and skull. It looks like the figure sneezed on a constellation. “I can’t even see the eyes any more…”

“That’s okay, we’ll draw a bigger head in a minute so you can fit the stars in better,” Felix chuckles. “It’s important to know where the pools are, because they’re the places where maen exits the body when we use it to cast magic. Different kinds of magic use different pools on the body. So when I give you a kiss on your booboos, it’s not because I’m trying to eat you up!”

Elsie gives him a dry look. “I know that. I’m not 40.”

“I know you’re not!” he holds his hands up in surrender. “But I’ll always remember the time when I pretended to eat you, and you got really scared!”

“Well I don’t remember that at all,” she sniffs, then turns back to adding more details to her dress on the paper. “Are there pools on the hands?”

“Yes there are, very good! And also all up the arms here…”

It doesn’t take long to cover the rest of the figure in stars, on the front and the back side. Meanwhile, Elsie’s dress design is also coming along swimmingly.

“Did you get the idea for this dress from the present you got from the Naribians?” Felix asks.

“Yes, but I’m making it better with my own parts,” she says airily.

“You know, humans have maen circuits too!”

Now this finally gets her full attention. She looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “They do?”

“Yep! They’re veeeery thin and don’t get used much. Unlike starfolk, humanfolk can’t use their maen circuits by just thinking about it. So do other animals and plants, but even smaller, nearly not there at all.”

“Ohhh…” she trails off, mulling this new information over. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No, it’s not like with us where it hurts them to not use magic every now and then. They can live their whole lives and never use it, and be perfectly healthy!”

She continues to chew on this new fact for another minute of silence, before suddenly saying. “But what if that’s why they die fast? Humans, and animals.”

Admittedly, Felix wasn’t expecting that. Leave it to kids to come up with unexpected questions. He’s struck silent for a moment, pondering this himself. Who knows, maybe that was the reason. He’s not educated enough to know for sure. But then, when he’s not even an adult himself, he’s not sure what people are expecting.

“You know what, I don’t know!” he finally says with a laugh. “Let’s make a note of it, so we can look it up later in the library or with one of the professors.”

“Okay,” she agrees, scribbling the note in the top corner of the paper. “It doesn’t make much sense that the plants like trees live almost as long as we do, but the humans don’t. Humans look almost just like us, but their ears are weird and small and their bodies are big and hairy.”

“Sure do!”

"Do you think if I tried I could grow hair on my face like them?"

"... Maybe one day, Elsie!"

🌗

More from LUNAMARA:

Fragments [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]<-- More every Thursday!

Comic [Prologue]

Art by Luka (http://nousanti.tumblr.com/) Story by Pidge (http://pidgestories.tumblr.com/)

#felix cygnus #princess elsennae #lunamara #lunamara project #pidgestories #nousanti #artists on tumblr

49 notes · View notes

waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 11 months

Text

i have been Swamped with full-time freelance writing and a full-time job on top of it, and you guys have been so so so patient with me going months and months and months without updating anything, so i decided to give you little sneak-peeks at the next “diy steps to serenity” and “an unfinished memory” chapters to prove to you that i do actually have content, it’s just been sitting idle as i’ve been forced to write less-fun things for money :(

i’m going to have a break in my work writing obligations here v v v soon, and updating these fics will be my vacation before the next obligations begin, and i am extremely hype

snippets under the cut:

DIY Steps to Serenity Excerpt:

The next thing she registered were forms being thrust at her, demanding her signature, as if she had any capacity to read. She mumbled the answers to questions about her birthdate and address, and scribbled her name poorly where they told her to on a tablet. Then, all of a sudden, a nurse was wiping the crook of her elbow down with an alcohol swab, and she forced herself out of her fog of suffering.

"No no no, wait," she said, trying to angle away.

"They gotta give you an IV to put you under for surgery, baby," Daryl said, his fingers brushing her hair back off her forehead. Carol shook her head vehemently.

"I can't," she insisted, eyes wide with fear.

"I know but you don't got a choice, honey, it'll be okay. Everythin's okay." Evidently, he'd regained his mantra from somewhere, but Carol still wasn't convinced.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. We're going to push some Dilaudid through to help control the pain while we wait to take you back for anesthesia," Leopard Print Scrubs said, thinking that Carol's fear was with the surgery, and not with the small syringe of clear liquid that she was preparing to push directly into her veins. She looked to Daryl helplessly, who simply shook his head.

"You got no choice," he repeated. Through the pain and fright and flood of confusion, Carol tried to think of an alternative. What did they used to do before pain medication? Maybe they could get her some whiskey and a big rock to bite down on. Not ideal, but she was so close to her twelve-month chip, which she didn't realize until that moment was something she actually gave a shit about.

"I'm just gonna flush your IV with some saline, and then we'll get that medicine in you and get you feeling better, you poor thing," Leopard Print Scrubs said. With her free hand, Carol reached for Daryl. He took it without hesitation.

"I won't be sober," she whispered to him through tears that she wasn't sure were new or had been falling since she'd arrived.

"But you'll be alive."

An Unfinished Memory Excerpt:

“Come now, don’t be like that,” Merle said. He came around and sat next to Daryl on the couch. He smelled like cigarettes and the cheap perfume of whichever girl he’d been cozying up with at the bar the night before. “If you need help lookin’ like a fine, upstandin’ citizen then I’ll do my damndest, but first you gotta be straight with me.”

“Straight with you about what?” Daryl didn’t look at his brother, opting instead to fiddle with his drawing, which was now just a crinkly ball in his hands. Pity, he thought, he’d liked that one well enough to have kept it, if Merle hadn’t ruined it. Whatever, he could always just draw it again.

“Carol. What’s goin’ on between the two of you? And don’t come at me with that ‘we’re just friends’ bullshit.”

“Well we are, so I dunno what the fuck else you want me to say.”

“The truth. You know everyone who goes through the Roadhouse all call her your girl, and she ain’t never denied it.”

“You know that was just so them guys would stop puttin’ moves on her when she was just doin’ her damn job.”

“Yeah, but that was months ago. You’d think by now the truth woulda come out, but if anythin’, with the way you two cozy up with each other when you’re together at the diner, y’all only reinforce it.”

“Good, then they’ll keep leavin’ her be.” Daryl pointedly did not address the “cozy up” comment.

“You know that ain’t my point.”

“Then what is it?” Daryl knew he was being purposefully obtuse, and he knew Merle knew it too, but he refused to give his brother the satisfaction of dignifying his taunts with a response.

But then Merle said, “She’d be good for you, you know? A girl like her. If you was with her I’d support it. Hell, I’d more than support it. I’d be over the damn moon.”

Daryl let his hands still, the staticky crumpling sound of the paper finally ceasing. He tossed the ball onto the table and leaned back on the uncomfortable couch, the structure of the thing hitting him at all kinds of unpleasant angles where the cushion was worn away. He stared headlong at the television in front of him. It wasn’t on, but the alternative was looking at his brother, and he didn’t think he could say what he was about to say and meet another person’s eye at the same time.

He said, so quietly he could hardly hear it himself, “Maybe I would be, too.”

#diy steps to serenity #an unfinished memory #dunlap writes shit #and will finish shit soon too #promise #caryl #caryl fic #twd

27 notes · View notes

lightofunova · 4 months

Text

As the year draws to a close, I find myself looking back at the past year and I just need to state how absolutely crazy it has been for me.

This blog will be one year old in January, which it’s so funny that it’s already almost been an entire year since I started posting and interacting? It isn’t the official birthday yet, but I just want to thank everyone for reading and interacting and supporting me this past year. I’ve met so many wonderful people in the community who have pushed me to want to do better, and who I want to interact witth more but my own shyness and nerves prevent me from doing so.

You all have truly spoiled me this year by allowing me to share my silly ocs and stories witth you all, and just by listening to me I am already content. Thank you truly from the bottom of my heart for allowing me to be a part of this community, for being able to create my own little corner here just to act silly.

And I have so many new friends I haven’t said a proper thank you to, for one reason or another. Maybe due to being busy or me being too bashful to admit it over late night calls or to even start a conversation in dms. Before the year is out I want to right that.

@symphonies-of-silver I know that I’m not someone who is super close, but honestly I started askblogging because of you! You made me want to do it and seeing Ginjiro and his story begin to unfold, I was inspired to do my own. I wish I could talk more with you in dms, you seem like such an amazing person and I love hearing about your ocs and ideas honestly, I’m just shy haha. I can’t wait to see what ideas you craft up in the coming year, it’s always something to look forward to.

@lustrous-dawn Gosh, I’ve always adored your writing style so much, I often find myself reading over your words and wanting to be more eloquent with my own sometimes haha. You always inspire me to write more than draw, and you’d be surprised how many little blurbs and drafts I’ve made this year about various things haha. You also showed me that, it’s alright to just do your own thing. It’s fine to just post whenever you want, what you want, and how you want. I don’t think I realized that when I started but now that the year had been ending I’m starting to realize it, even if you told me that a bajillion times over calls haha.

@askdeoxys Gosh, I don’t know what to say sometimes when we talk. You have done alot for me this year over calls and chats and games, I mean hell I wouldn’t be using a tablet now if it wasn’t for you. You really know how to cheer someone up when they’re down, and all of the conversations we’ve had this past year have been so much fun. I never thought I would be ending 2023 having accomplished so much, You egg me on to do the things that matter in life. The advice you give is always dead on, and even if I don’t listen to it it’s just because I’m a silly adult who thinks she knows better haha. Thank you for supporting me so much this year, I really do appreciate it.

@ceruleancavesmonster Golly gosh bestie, it’s been so long since we became friends, it’s wild to see how far everything has come. I know things have been busy af lately, but I can’t believe how far we’ve come! When making this I was so worried it’d be a dumb idea, but I just appreciate all the love and support you’ve shown me this entire year. From getting excited over my posts to helping me think through plot lines and ideas you really have been my biggest supporter in all of this. Just thank you so much for sticking with me through all these years, I can’t wait to see what happens next year 💙💙

And to all those I didn’t mention just know that I appreciate you more than you know, you all gave me something to work towards, something to inspire me in one way or another. Thank you so much for supporting my blog, and I hope you’ll stick around for another year in the making.

#ooc #mod #dl #ty everyone 💙💙

15 notes · View notes

feverishly-kpop · 11 months

Text

Yunho & Ateez - Migraine

Seonghwa glanced over at Mingi who was, for the umpteenth time that day, pacing back and forth in their recording studio and glancing at his phone every few seconds.

“Mingi, please sit down. You’ll wear a hole through the floor if you keep pacing line that” Seonghwa said kindly, trying to make light of what was very clearly a stressful situation for Mingi.

“What if he needs something?” Mingi asked, genuine concern heavy in his voice.

“Yeosang is there with him. Do you really think that Yeosang would let Yunho suffer? And, honestly, what he needs now is sleep. So no updates probably means he’s asleep, which is the best thing for him right now” Seonghwa replied. The tension in Mingi’s shoulders dissipated a bit with that. Of course Mingi knew that Seonghwa was right, but he had been worried all day after receiving a text from Yeosang that morning advising that Yunho had a migraine and was in no condition to complete his schedule.

Hongjoong paid a visit to Yeosang and Yunho’s apartment only to find Yunho laying on the washroom floor with the lights out and a blanket pulled over his head.

“He’s nauseous. He got sick a few times but won’t go back to bed. He says he’ll get sick again if he tries to get up. So I just let him stay…” Yeosang’s voice trailed off, unsure if he had done the right thing.

Hongjoong nodded with a smile to reassure Yeosang, but he really hadn’t realized the extent of Yunho’s condition. He quietly walked into the washroom and closed the door behind him to keep the light out.

“Yunho-ah” Hongjoong whispered quietly, unsure if Yunho was even awake. A groan from Yunho confirmed that he had heard his hyung.

“Can we get you off the floor? This can’t be comfortable” he said, rubbing Yunho’s shoulder over his blanket.

Yunho was quiet for a moment before replying in a weak voice.

“My head hurts so much. Moving makes me nauseous.”

Hongjoong didn’t argue with him, instead leaving Yunho for a moment to grab a pillow and an extra blanket.

“Has he taken anything?” Hongjoong asked Yeosang before opening the washroom door again. Yeosang shook his head, explaining that Yunho refused, not wanting to get sick again from swallowing tablets down.

Hongjoong managed to get some medicine into Yunho as well as almost a full glass of water before checking his temperature and confirming that did just seem to be a migraine. He made one last failed attempt to get Yunho to go back to bed before settling for having Yunho lie back down on the floor, this time with a pillow under his head and an extra blanket draped over his body to prevent him from catching a chill on the cold floor.

Yeosang agreed to stay home and look after Yunho for the remainder of the day while the rest of the team headed to the company. It wasn’t a busy day by any means, but there was recording that needed to be done that would be easy enough for Yunho and Yeosang to make up the following day.

Not being busy, however, left Mingi’s mind to wander back to his best friend. Seonghwa understood Mingi’s concern. He had been worried when Hongjoong told him how poorly Yunho was, but did his best not to let it show, knowing that it would further upset his dongsaengs.

“Mingi, you’re up next” Eden said, drawing a sigh from Mingi. Everybody in the room knew that Mingi’s mind had been elsewhere all day and they agreed to let Mingi record last, hoping that he’d get an update from Yeosang or Yunho to put his mind at ease.

Just as Mingi opened the door, Hongjoong glanced down at his phone as it vibrated.

“Wait!” he called to Mingi, holding up a finger as he read the text he had received from Yeosang. Satisfied that it was good news, Hongjoong read the message aloud:

“Yunho is feeling much better. He’s pretty tired and a bit disoriented but he finally came out of the washroom in his own accord and is resting on the couch. He wanted to text but he’s not feeling well enough to look at a screen yet so I told him I’d text you for him so you can let everybody else know.”

Relief immediately washed over Mingi upon hearing Yeosang’s update. He took a deep breath, realizing for the first time all day how tense he had been.

“Thank you, hyung” Mingi said to Hongjoong before stepping in to the booth, feeling much more prepared to record.

#kpop sickfic #kpop fluff #sickfic #ateez fluff #ateez sickfic #yunho sick #yunho fluff #Yunho sickfic #sickficlet

34 notes · View notes

journeytomonkiekid · 2 years

Note

Honey hell you are a badass. Ok, I need your secrets. Any advice for sitting down and doing things? I can barely sit down long enough to do a single drawing I desperately want to do.

Aaaaa I don’t know your circumstances so idk what advice would apply.

Not being able to do something even though you want to is a very common sentiment in ADHD.

If you haven’t yet, consider seeing your doctor about if you would benefit from ADHD meds.

Something I’ve learned is I REALLY can’t force things to happen. I only learned about my ADHD in my mid 20s so I’ve learned a lot about myself and how I function, in addition to the 20-some years I spent undiagnosed coming up with coping methods.

What I learned about myself is that there’s a critical set of time in the evening, between 8 pm and 12 am, where where my brain decides “OKAY. TIME TO DRAW”

I’m also kind of… weird about my art bc I have this weird need to make everything into comics instead of like…drawing one picture and explaining everything in text. Which is mainly a fancy way to say, find out where your brain places weight and lean on it. You may not be able to control it fully but you can at least push yourself in the right direction by at least starting there.

When it comes to sitting down and drawing something; it’s different for everyone. For me I start my computer and put my drawing tablet in front of myself open the drawing app, and see what happens. If my body rejects drawing, I don’t force it. If my body doesn’t want to do something, sometimes I just need to wait for it to calm down or get situated. Maybe play some games or watch some videos to relax and maybe eventually my body will be willing to co-operate.

Generally I’ve gotten into a habit of doing all my preparatory work during the phases of hyperattention, so that when I’m not in that mode anymore, all I have to do really is turn my brain off and just draw. It probably helps that comics are kind of a very particular interest that I do no matter what so really it’s hard to say.

When it comes to stand alone illustrations, for instance, I’m not very disciplined at all. I’ve only done two of the drink art stuff bc it’s hard for me to find interest in drawing something that isn’t part of something bigger I guess.

Either way, the best advice I can offer is; listen to your body. If it doesn’t want to draw, maybe you need a break. Get some food, drink something, turn on some music and let your brain wander. Sometimes it just needs to run free for a bit before it’s willing to come back home to work.

Some people say that they find using certain apps or soundscapes to zone in help. You can probably find a bunch of browser or steam apps specifically for the sake of cultivating focus. Find the thing that keeps you in your workspace, even if that means changing where your workspace IS if possible. Maybe sitting down at your desk is too much pressure, maybe you need to grab a pen and some paper and go draw in the living room instead. Lie down on your bed with a sketchbook, or tablet, or maybe just draw as soon as you feel it come on.

Again it’s hard to say, everyone is so different in approach and interest but that’s what I can offer! Sometimes working with new materials or messing with new tools/brushes/programs is what you need to break out of a rut.

Hope that helps

121 notes · View notes

cusimmrbrightside · 1 year

Text

Lmk(ish) art dump

I need to get a new pen for my drawing tablet because the sensitivity on it is shot but they’re like £20-£30 each so I need to wait till April before I can get one. So have this dump of stuff I’ve been doing.

All bar one of these is Oc work and AU work for the AU me and @jester-x have been working on (it’s a next gen au if you can’t tell)

It’s ab 20-30 years into the future of LMK. So everyone is old now. And have children. Lolz. It’s fun. We’re having fun.

23 notes · View notes

chubbycow222 · 9 months

Text

I wish there was a “how to draw FAT manga” book lol. I am wondering if I should buy a drawing tablet but I don’t want to get ahead of myself, I will buy one if I am still doing this in a few months. I have really wanted to buy a Nintendo switch for months now, and new shoes, plus concert tickets to like 10 bands, maybe a new computer/graphics card BECAUSE IT CANT EVEN RUN MINECRAFT, but also move out 😭 and I can’t have everything I want… so I just have to wait. I can’t really get smooth lines yet cause I used my fingers to colour this on Picsart lol. I am drawing on paper but then taking a pic of my drawing and making it SUPER contrasted to try and make it look like digital art.

#manga #art #bunny girl

16 notes · View notes

fall-risk · 10 months

Text

so uh big life update that will heavily impact my art

I got a new tablet!! I’m really excited because I’ve never had a drawing tablet with a screen before and it feels like I can finally make the kind of art I’ve always wanted to, the kind I see others create and think in my head “oh my god they are amazing but I’ll never be like them”. I have an android tablet that I’ve been using to draw up until now with ibis paint x, but I’ve heard so many artists say that you need better equipment to create to your full potential. I don’t entirely believe that, I think it’s very much possible to create masterpieces with even the simplest of tools, but I really want to push my limits and see what I’m capable of. My life has felt so empty for years now, I’m tired of waiting and feeling empty all day every day, I’m ready to start doing what I’ve wanted to do since childhood- create. I want to get into animation and comic creation. I’m super excited to start learning and practicing, and I can’t wait to see what clip studio paint and opentoonz have to offer now that I can use them. Though I haven’t posted here in months, I have still been drawing a little, mainly just requests and gifts of people’s OCs that I’d rather not post without permission. My creative spike I had earlier this year kind of fizzled out a bit due to mental turmoil and a lot of stress. I’ll probably have a lot more to post here soon though. I’m waiting for an hdmi adapter to come in the mail because my laptop does not have an hdmi port (lame, I know). but uh yeah that’s just an update on this sad little life of mine

#not art #myposts #idk what to tag a #ramblings

8 notes · View notes

finalskies · 1 year

Text

Heir’s favorite posts of 2022

It’s that time of year again: the end. So I get to talk about my favorite things I posted. It’s funny, I feel like I really didn’t draw that much more than last year, and I certainly didn’t get any better. If anything, I’ve probably regressed. But even then, in these past few months I’ve probably felt more joy about drawing than I have in a long time. In a way, it feels like I’ve removed all my expectations for myself and I just... I just get to draw whatever I want, and it doesn’t matter if it looks sucky to me. “Face didn’t come out right? That’s fine, it still looks cute. It doesn’t look as good as it used to? No worries, you’ve done it before and you’ll do it once more. And even if you don’t, you can still have fun with it and make people happy.”

Maybe I’m just finally done with being mean to myself about my drawings. Maybe I just wanna draw cute/silly stuff for my friends. Because, as I’ve said before, you don’t have to be great and powerful to make something that makes a great and powerful difference in someone’s day. Anyway...

Ol’ Reliable Applejack. This is one of the first drawings I made with my new tablet, and the first one that made me think “Okay... I can still do this.” Even before my bestest most favorite tablet broke, I hadn’t been feeling the whole “drawing” thing in awhile. As simple as this looks, it felt like a real turning point.

Internet Fuzz Queens. As a very young child, I had this idea in my head that all my favorite cartoon characters lived in a community together and they would hang out and stuff. This is was an extremely self-indulgent comic that required specific knowledge of four different fandoms, and I want to do more like it. I love my blorbos and I want to see them hang out together.

Angel Byrd. My OC turned space kangaroo in my Scum and Villainy campaign. I’m glad I got to give her a little more pizzazz. I forgot to mention it in the original post, but the reason her dress has a tummy window is because she’s planning on smuggling museum artifacts in her pouch lol. We’re actually doing the second part of the heist tomorrow, wish us luck!

Kaysee Cadet! A character I made for a dnd Humblewood campaign. I really love how this came out. Ultimately I did settle on the orange fur, but maybe I’ll do something with that black fur design at some point. Gawd I’ve grown really attached to this character. They’re autistic, and they’re not native to the setting of the campaign, so “common” isn’t their first language. It’s been really difficult for them to navigate the world, and some people have been quite cruel to her, including her own family. All she wants is love, and they try SO HARD to help people despite everything, and we’re getting to the part in the campaign where the party transitions from “ragtag group of weirdos forced together” to “found family.” But tragedy struck in the last session of the year, and now it’s more of a “darkest hour” moment. And I’m just... I love my blorbos, especially the ones I made up ;_;

Give Trans Girls Swords. Winter is this lovely artist’s sheep fursona. I’d been wanting to draw them for awhile, she has such an appealing design. This was so fun to draw, I love making things for friends and also giving trans girls swords.

I really want to make my own fursona one of these days...

Miss Pie’s Monsters. It was... so nice to see the monster gang again. MPM is absolutely one of those projects that I never stopped thinking about, never lost hope that I could finish it one day, even those it’s been years since its last real update. I’m happy with myself for sticking to the update schedule I promised, even if I was calling it close sometimes lol. I hope people liked seeing them again. And to the people that I know liked seeing them again: first, I love u, I hope I can continue to update it in the coming year. I can’t wait to reveal who the Captain of the guard really is.

Stay fantastic, I hope we all have a better 2023. Or at the very least, make it through it together. <3

#Final Skies #top 5 personal favorites #except this time it's six I guess lol

34 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 2 years

Text

The Dignity of His Choice (4)

Brand, Part Two (see previous or series)

Summary: Bucky returns to update Steve and ask him some serious questions. Warnings: language.

No music, no fires (until foggy days), no books (except one small tome on edible plants), no paper. Steve draws with a stick in the dirt sometimes and hums songs (quietly) he wants to dance with you to. He thinks this will be the easy part. The bandaid is ripped off. It should be fine; it’s just a waiting game while the best Team on earth handles the same stuff they do every day all day. While Bucky won’t discuss the subplot of your kidnapping with anyone, the Avengers and all affiliated intelligence organizations are already working the list. Buck doesn’t need to push for that. Steve’s grateful that Natasha knows, too. She and Bucky together will no doubt be able to find any traitor among the employees.

He’s been alone before, not for this long, but Steve has done this bit. The waiting feels the same as all the other waiting. It sucks. He hates it. But it’s no different.

There’s no plumbing. He has to shit outside and walk about a mile to a stream for water once, sometimes twice, a day. It’s already too cold to bathe in the stream, so Steve just…gets grimy and deals with it. The only piece he can’t handle being dirty is his hands. He’s seen too much battle and had too much actual blood on his hands to stand his skin or nails looking so used. It’s one of those things he does to keep his professional life separate from, well, himself.

None of this is really new. He was in the army in 1943, of course. He’s camped outside and hunkered down in abandoned houses before. Steve can hear Dum Dum Dugan in his head saying Cap’s gone soft. Dernier’s voice mutters in French about Steve missing his ‘three water closets in his own palace’ while Union Jack points out that you told Steve he’d miss having his own bathroom someday. This is all ludicrous, however, because those men have been dead longer than Steve’s known you, several of them died before you were born, but hey, it’s his brain’s best way of coping.

He hears nothing and sees no one (in real life) for two weeks.

The high-pitched whine of the jet engine comes first, likely beyond human hearing at that distance. Bucky’s been able to swing an unlogged visit because of a recon mission with comms-dark protocols, but he can only stay for a few hours.

“What about today’s mission?” Steve thinks his voice sounds harsh and needy after not speaking for so long.

“Let’s just say,” Bucky says with a smirk over his shoulder, “this guy wasn’t that hard to outsmart.”

He tenses. “He in the jet? Buck, what if he says you stopped—“

“This i’n’t my first rodeo, punk.” Bucky puts a hand up and shrugs. “Plus I tranqued him. He can’t notice a whole hell of a lot.”

Steve nods but paces the handful of strides back and forth across the single room structure. Bucky seems casual enough, in a good mood, but he doesn’t offer any details about home while he shows Steve what supplies he’s been able to scrounge up. None of them are Steve’s things, obviously, but he is grateful.

Maybe it’s going well? Maybe he can come home soon? You’ve got an entire team of people to carry you through this dark time, so as much as it breaks Steve’s heart, it should all be fine once the threat is gone. Bucky and Nat know to keep an eye on you. They can help with anything you could possibly need. Perhaps—just perhaps—you suspect the truth already. You’re smart, so Steve wouldn’t doubt that possibility for a second. Buck’s probably here to say you guessed and now you know. Maybe you’ve written a letter for Steve. He’s filled with unmatched hope all of a sudden and can barely contain it.

“How is she?” Steve smiles. He genuinely expects good news.

Then he sees his friend’s face fall.

Bucky pulls out his Stark tablet, and Steve startles just a little. Buck quickly assures him the signal isn’t connected to anything, plus there’s a whole damn jet outside. Of course, he knows that Bucky wouldn’t be so careless as to burn his own safe house’s location simply to show Steve photos, but he flinches anyway. Isolation has not been great for Steve.

Bucky finds what he’s scrolling for and then tilts the screen back down. “How about I tell you the progress first?” He’s biting his lip. That’s not a good sign.

Steve huffs and seats himself (since Bucky refuses to use the one chair available).

“Another three killed before capture and a dozen more leads, approximately half of those are solid, actionable within the next week.”

“Leaving?”

Bucky lands a steel gaze on Steve. “Give or take twenty unknowns.”

Steve’s doing calculations so fast it hurts. He buries his head in his hands, and after a moment, he gives up and just wants to be told. “How long am I gonna be out here?”

Bucky puts a hand on his knee. “As long as it takes to keep your wife safe, pal.” He takes one look at Steve’s red-faced frustration and offers the tablet. Quietly, he adds, “we had your funeral.”

Before Steve even looks at the screen, he can imagine you spending the entire time hugging every single person there. It’s your superpower. You are comfort incarnate to Steve. You likely are to everyone you touch. The thought alone makes him long for you that much more, but something in Bucky’s body language hints that Steve is very, very wrong.

The camera roll is queued up to its end: one photo and two videos after a slew of Alpine pictures. The photo shows exceptional quality, zoomable to an unflattering degree, but the iconography is stunning.

You’re in mourning, your face covered in a sheer black veil that only partially obscures contorted features. Your hand rests on his shield with his mother’s ring and your wedding band visible on your spread fingers.

Steve slumps into the chair. He expected this. You’re rightfully devastated, as Steve would be if he thought you were dead, too, but it still hurts to see in vivid color.

Bucky leans over and swipes to the first video, a short, low-quality clip with handheld camera movement, blink and he would miss it. You topple the shield’s display and move—Steve can’t be sure at this angle—to spit on it, maybe? Good god, he can tell just by the way your back is set that you’re about to snap. He doesn’t want to see more, but Bucky swipes anyway.

The speakers on the phone are up way too loud, and since Steve has been in near silence for weeks, he’s flung back into the seat by the hoarse and broken wail that catapults out. The power of it has his own frustrated and embarrassed flush scalding up his body in thick sheets. Each second scrapes a layer of his humanity away.

He did this. He did this to you.

It’s not even over by the time Bucky taps the file closed and takes the device back. Steve’s shaken into silence. His ears are still ringing.

“I’m here because I need to know if there are any…abort points. Keep her safe, obviously, but what if…” Buck studies the small, lone window a moment before continuing lowly. “What are the hard outs for this?”

“The job isn’t done until she’s safe.”

“Yeah, but say she…tries to hurt herself?”

Steve sits quietly for a minute and rubs his legs. He’s reeling. He has no reference point for this behavior from you. He knows how upset you were by Norm’s death…and why the hell is he just thinking about this now? Of course. Of course, this is how you react. This is how he met you. You only coped then because of Steve, and he feels so stupid for just realizing that even though you know all about loss, you can’t simply default to acceptance. And he would have known—he would have seen this coming—if he’d just thought it through. There’s a difference between you being alive because of him and you being alive without him.

But Steve can’t unring this bell. Not until you’re out of danger.

In equal parts to reassure himself and assure Bucky, he says, “she would never do that.” Steve’s own voice isn’t even convincing. The words are weak, and they aren’t the last to fall short.

“And if she leaves campus? Quits working there? Moves away?”

Now Steve’s getting antsy. The stun of your cry is wearing off, and he just wants to help. “You said yourself there’s no reason they’d take her if I’m dead, Buck.”

“I know what I said.” Bucky scans the woods outside the cabin carefully before his next question. “And if she moves on?”

Steve licks his lips, mind blank. He doesn’t understand.

“What if your wife starts…seeing someone, Steve?”

“Like a therapist?” His voice cracks. “Makes sense. Might be a good idea.”

“No, bud.” Bucky gives Steve the same remorseful look he gave him after his mom passed, the one where Bucky vowed to hold Steve’s hand through an incomprehensible crisis, the one that says Bucky loves him but he’s not sure Steve can handle himself this time. “I mean dating. What if your wife, who thinks you are dead, starts seeing someone romantically?”

And suddenly Steve’s furious, and his voice drops dangerously low. “It’s been two weeks.”

“We don’t know how long it’s gonna take to clear all those names.”

“I’m not going to be out here long enough for that.”

“You know that finding twenty—“

He’s on his feet in a flash, screaming, “I’m not going TO BE HERE that long.“

“There is no playbook for grief, Steve! I just need to know when to call this off.”

“No, Buck,” he shouts, “you’re not calling it off. You come back here when they’re all dead.”

Steve’s never felt this kind of fury before. He’s an echo chamber for your sorrow, and the force is melting him from the inside out. He grips his friend’s shoulders with bone-crushing strength, but metal doesn’t yield and serum heals the rest.

“You use every bit of that shit inside you and you hunt them, do you hear me? That’s the hard out. That’s the only option.”

It’s crippling to watch the flicker of fear in Bucky’s eyes. Steve has never once treated Bucky like a weapon, but Steve has no choice. He can do nothing.

“Fine.” Bucky puts his hands up. “We’re are on the same page.”

The sum total of what Steve can do for your safety at this moment lands him in the middle of an uninhabited wilderness. He needs Bucky to handle anything just like Steve would, but that was the side of the coin they’d never landed on, the danger of him being gone. Bucky can’t replace Steve, so his only option, the best thing he can do for Steve and you, is to Winter Soldier the hell out of that list. The man who held Bucky’s hand back to humanity asks—no, begs—for Bucky to use every dark and twisted means he knows to fix this problem.

It’s a line Steve never thought he’d cross. He almost takes it back right there, but Bucky’s eyes steel again, showing that he gets the message, he knows the stakes, and he has his orders.

Steve releases his grip and rolls out his tense shoulders. “I expect you to use your best judgment on what is too great a danger.” It’s his Cap voice but softer, less sure. “And it’s just the twenty names?”

“Well,” Buck admits through tight lips, “we’re finding outliers. New recruits working under some of the alias agents.”

“Anyone who would be the source inside HQ?”

Bucky shakes his head, looking guilty as Steve struggles with his thoughts.

He’s got no words left. There are no more angles he can see, and Bucky has to go. Steve’s heart gets heavier the more he thinks of Bucky’s presence here meaning one less person near you who can help. He ticks his head to usher Bucky back to the jet.

At the base of the ramp, Steve draws Bucky into the hug he should have started the visit with. After a good long while, he whispers, “what’d she say when you told her?”

Bucky hesitates, pats Steve’s back, and pulls away. “She slapped me. Slapped me pretty damn hard.”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but immediately he recalls how you tried to kick at him while in shock after Norm’s death. It all makes sense. He still hates it.

Steve’s torment gouges his features when he links his forearm to Buck’s. “Till the job is done.”

“I’ll see it through,” Bucky says solidly. “Don’t do anything stupid, punk.”

Steve clenches. He can’t fall back on the old quips. Not this time. Left with no control over his life and future, no one to fight, Steve hasn’t got any humor left in his body.

“Can’t afford stupid.”

Bucky nods and heads into the jet before throwing one last hope over his shoulder, “ya know, this isn’t the end of the line.”

Steve needs to hear that. This nightmare will end, but you and the life he’s built won’t end with it. That’s the hope his life depends on now.

(Next Part)

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Ask box is open!

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @fangirl-swagg

#steve rogers fic #fools rush in #steve rogers #fanfic #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #series #steve x you #angst with a happy ending #steve rogers angst #steve rogers and reader #eventual smut #eventual happy ending #romance

64 notes · View notes