#tryna post more wips here

[herebutnotpresent]

jetko wippp

[residentialsinyomakai]

Hey. Mckraken dump + misc doodles part 50. Throws these at you

Starting w these two! The human design belongs to @analog-smiles and I love it sm btw. Might draw it again in the future i say menacingly. The one on the left is me trying to get the hang of coloring him on digital +drawing full body!!!

I drew this guy more upset than usual yesterday because it wouldn't be your favorite character without inflicting pain on them 💕😋

And then these ones!! Expect more hino art soon because MAN. I love that awful ceo <33

Thats all for now!! Ty for looking at my stuff btw (-u•)~☆

[codgod]

more sims yippee ^-^

thanatos looks so funny next to the other two he’s literally just entirely cc (it’s daedric armour from lady-moriel btw. figured i should credit at least that one since it’s the Whole Guy, i think it’s a conversion from another game but hell if i know what it is) (the eyes are a separate thing tho, i think they’re called cyber eyes but idr who made them)

i would’ve liked to give rumi more accessories but alas i’m limited by what the sims will allow (also would’ve preferred if she wasn’t in jeans but all the more plain white pants went under the body suit and it looked weird LOL i’ll probably fix it later)

peter’s perfect tho. as always. unless i find a better looking bowlcut

[glitchedsoftware]

rlly mid wip 4 pride month ermmm

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm tryna rotate as much as possible.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Margot. She’s talkative but kind. She guides you through everything with patience. Tells you when to close your eyes and look up, how to hold your head, when to pucker your lips. She even explains exactly what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Despite her demeanour, you still feel utterly stupid. Rather, you feel inadequate. 

Another woman shows up shortly after, as a brush traces the line of your cheek. She introduces herself as Darla, she has a whole rack of dresses lined up for you. Another inward cringe threatens to compress your lungs. 

As Darla presents you with options, you find it hard to breathe. It’s all so overwhelming, especially as a third woman, Erica, appears to do your hair, and a fourth, Nia, to tend to your nails. You could faint as you’re pushed, pulled, and prodded from all sides. 

“I like the red,” Margot suggests as you hem and haw.  

The dresses are all nice but you don’t even know what you’re picking it for. Honestly, none of them suit you. Too much skin for your liking. Not that that stays much; your comfort is jeans and baggy tees.  

Erika hums, “what about the teal, lovey? I do think you’d look marvelous with those cutouts.” 

“Yes, it is a pretty colour. You have the complexion for it,” Darla remarks. 

They’re all so nice but there’s something pitying in their voices. You feel like a child. You don’t belong here. You especially don’t belong with Bucky, apparently, he knows that too. Why else would he have these women plucking and picking at you? 

Margot finishes and brings you a mirror. As you see yourself, you blanch. It’s not bad. In fact, she’s done better than you could ever manage but you don’t look like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. If he wants you to be someone else, you don’t think you can do that. 

You feel yourself shrinking. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, stuttering but unable to say a word. Margot touches your shoulder. 

“What is it? Hon, have I done something wrong?” 

“No, no,” you croak and bring your hands to your throat, “it’s nice. Really nice but... I need some air.” 

“Of course, Darl, Nia,” she shoos away the stylist pinning your hair, “let her up.” 

The women back off and the fourth watches you from the rack, still holding a sparkly black get-up. You search the room and swiftly head for the door. You let yourself into the hall, fanning yourself with your half-done acrylics. You’re happy at least they aren’t long. 

You pace back and forth, watching your feet pass over the pattern of the hotel carpet. You can run. You could just leave right now. The thought only makes your stomach hurt. No, you can’t. Not after he’s gone to all this trouble. You’d hate to seem ungrateful. 

You continue your incessant laps back and forth outside the door. You hear footfalls from around the corner and pause. You should go back in before someone sees you. You grab the handle. Shoot, it’s locked. You wiggle it as a shadow appears at the end of the hall. You gulp and peer down. 

It’s him. You lean on the door and face Bucky. He wears a dark blue jacket over a black shirt and black pants. There’s patterning sewn into his jacket, subtle spirals all around. His dark hair his combed back to the ends flip out behind his ears and his dark beard glints with silver strands, a patch more obvious on his chin. He’s strikingly handsome. So much so, you can’t understand why you’re there. 

His brows form a vee as he nears and he tilts his head, a tick in his cheek, “what’s going on, doll?” 

“Um, just... locked out,” you turn the handle again to emphasize your point. 

“No, what’s....” he looks at you and gestures up and down with his hand, “no, this won’t do.” 

You blink and pout. After all that and you’re not good enough. He raps on the door with his knuckles and there’s some scuffing from inside before Margot opens it. She steps back to let you in and greets Bucky by name. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he urges you ahead of him, his hand firmly around your arm, “it’s too much. She doesn’t need all this. I told you, just a little enhancement. I don’t want her looking like a Barbie.” 

“Sorry, sir, it’s... standard.” 

“Doll,” he stops you with him as he plants himself near the racks of dresses. The women watch him anxiously. “What do you think? The make up; you like it?” 

You peer around and stare at Margot. She worked so hard and it isn’t that it’s bad work. She made you look gorgeous but you just don’t like all the layers. You slant your mouth one way then the other. 

“Be honest,” he insists. 

“I... It’s pretty but a bit... heavy?” You eke out. 

“I agree,” he lets you go, “I appreciate the hard work, Marg, but I want to see her natural beauty shining. And these dresses...” he turns, “these aren’t right. I said light. I said... Mm, no. Doll, what’s your favourite colour?” 

He faces you as you stand in shock. You feel horrible that he’s reproaching them like this. They’ve done all this for you and he’s just going down a list of everything wrong. 

“Erm, purple, I guess but--” 

“Darla, get her something purple. Lavender? Lilac?” He looks at you for confirmation and you just nod. You won’t correct him. “Erica, finish her hair, something a bit less... stuffy. Margot, clean her face up. Nia, the nails are looking good.” He turns to you and takes you by the shoulders, “and you, all you gotta do is be your cute little self, alright?” 

You gulp and nod. You don’t know what to say. He saves you from a response as he brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and your cheeks flame at the awareness of your audience. He pulls back and caresses your cheek before parts completely. 

He checks his watch, “don’t got all night.” 

He marches off, leaving you dumbfounded. He’s like a hurricane, coming in and blowing everything out of sorts. You look around guiltily. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Margot assures with a smile, “come, let’s get you fixed up, dahling.” 

She beckons you over and sits you back down. You give your hand back to Nia to finish the manicure as Erica once more goes to work on your hair. You stare at the wall and let out a nervous sigh. 

“That’s cute,” Margot says, “the way he looks at you.” 

“Hm, yeah,” Erica agrees, “he definitely has the eyes for ya.” 

You close your eyes as Margot gently wipes away the make up with a cool cloth from a package. You shrug, trying not to move too much, “he’s nice. He... did all this. Just for me. I... I didn’t ask for it. I’m sorry he didn’t like it.” 

“No, baby,” Nia says, “this isn’t about us. It’s about you. What do you like?” 

You open your eyes again and frown. That’s a good question. You lower your gaze to your lap and exhale heavily. 

“I’m figuring it out,” you murmur, “I don’t... I don’t get out much.” 

“Oh, this must be so exciting for you,” Erica trills, “oh, how fun.” 

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” Nia adds, “don’t be nervous. Just enjoy yourself.” 

“Can’t be that hard,” Margot clucks, “on a handsome man’s arm, pretty as a bow,” she cleans her brushes as she talks, “it’ll be a great night. I’m thinking...” she peruses her chest of makeup, “natural tones. A dewy look. Natural, subtle.” 

“Okay, uh, yeah,” you agree, “that sounds nice.” 

“Hmmph,” Erica hums, “she’s a sweetie, isn’t she, ladies?” 

“Nicer than the last one,” Nia cackles. 

You stiffen and shift in the chair. You look at the nail tech then Margot as she compares a tube to your face and shakes her head. You push your lip against your teeth and let it flick out. 

“Last one?” You whisper. 

The women share a look and smile, “well, Mr. Barnes is notorious. Surely, you know.” 

“Oh,” you think of the headlines you scrolled through online, “well, yes, I know. I guess... I didn’t catch what you meant.” 

“Enjoy it. I’m sure you’ll get a few pretty baubles out of it,” Nia says, “and some memories to long for when you’re old like us.” 

“Old,” Margot scoffs, “speak for yourself.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I know. I’m just... another girl.” 

“Oh, dahling,” Margot intones, “but he seems really fond of you, doesn’t he? Maybe he’ll keep ya around a bit longer, eh?” 

You just sit there. You knew better than to believe it was anything but the obvious but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You stare blindly ahead as Margot remoisturizes your skin. 

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” Margot says. 

“I’m not, I just...” you swallow, “I’m nervous.” 

“Mm, nervous? Well, I think that’s what the bar is for. Erica, fetch some of that rose. She needs a glass, Stat.” 

Your mouth opens to protest but you think better of it. You’ve already caused them enough trouble. You thank them instead and try not to let your shame burn through. They know why you’re there and they’ve left no doubt in you of the same. 

“Make sure to pour me some too,” Margot chirps. 

🃏

You stop after one glass. It makes your inside bubbly and eases the tension just enough that you’re not jittering. You feel better but still not certain. 

The women confirm your fears. This isn’t going to last. It’s not like you didn’t expect as much but hearing it is all the more real. You’re going to have to come up with yet another lie to tell. This one will hurt the most because it will be at least halfway true; you’re still a loser. 

You’ll try to take their advice. You’ll enjoy this night; this once in a lifetime experience. You don’t think you’ll ever be in a casino again in your life. They’re not for you. All of this is just above you. It’s better suited to someone like your sister. You can’t help but wonder why it isn’t Roxie here. 

The clock ticks. Well, not truly. The digital numbers count down the minutes as you linger in the suite alone. The gaggle of women left only a few minutes ago but not without a promise that you’re happy. You are, at least with all they did for you. 

You approach the mirror, almost shying away from your own reflection. You look nice. You might even call yourself pretty. Your eyes look more brilliant with the subtle lining and the precisely coated lashes; not too heavy. And your lips, shiny but natural, your cheeks dewy with a hint of colour to them.  

And the dress. Lavender satin with crystals embedded in the fabric, lines of smaller ones interconnecting the larger stones. You turn and check your figure. You look grown up. It’s ridiculous to think but you do. The heels help, not too high but enough to define your legs. 

You turn and tear your gaze away from the mirror. You don’t want to be vain. Besides, you probably don’t look that good. You just look better than usual. The comparison is enough to skew your perception. 

As you teeter on the heels, waiting, for what, you don’t exactly know. You can surmise what it will all lead to. What he intends. You can’t deny it any longer. A man doesn’t do all this for altruistic mean and even you aren’t that pitiful. Well, you hope not. 

A knock at the door trips you up. Your heart lurches. You’re not ready. But it’s getting late and you know it’s inevitable. You can’t move or speak. You just stare towards the door. 

You hear it open. You blink a Bucky’s shadow appears on the carpet and he strides into your sight. Your eyes meet his and his blue irises sparkle as he sees you. He stops and put his hand to his chest. His forehead lines and he bites his lip. 

“Wow, doll,” he rasps breathily and slowly steps forward, “you look...” 

You press your hands to your sides and give a toothy expression, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. Sweat speckles along your neck as his gaze bores into you. You’re even more self-conscious as he closes in. 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. 

“What don’t you know?” He asks as he reaches for you and takes your hand. He draws you near, “huh? Look at you, doll.” He purrs, “you look spectacular.” His other hand grazes down your side and he squeezes your hip as he holds you at arm’s length and ogles you, “mm, damn. You wanna know what I know?” 

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes, “what?” 

“That you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m a lucky man to have you walking the floor with me tonight,” he drops your hand and frames your other hip, drawing you to him, “I have half a mind to keep you up in this room.” 

You choke. Your lower lip trembles and you shake your head, “that’s nice but...” you look away. 

“But? You don’t believe me, doll? You think I’d lie?” He challenges. 

“N-no, I didn’t say—but--- before---” you sputter and put your hands on his forearms, “there were others and they were prettier.” 

“Doll, don’t worry about before. This is now. You aren’t them and I’m telling you, you are beautiful,” he trails his hand up and nudges your chin. You look at him again, your cheeks shaking as you try to smile. “Here.” 

He takes your hand, his eyes clinging to yours as he watches you. You can’t look away. Not this time. He leads your hand up his jacket and slips it beneath. He presses it to his chest. You feel the taut muscle beneath and something else. 

“You got my heart racing, doll,” he growls. “That ain’t a lie.” 

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

I took a nap earlier but now that it's so late I gotta go back to sleep so I don't feel like crap in the morning lolol

But before I disappear for the night.

Here's another Adamsapple wip!:

Imagine: Adam is such a brat but when Lucifer shape shifts and uses his powers to further dominate Adam.

Adam: That's why you're short as shit...

Lucifer: OH! but am I really???~~~ tell me more Kitten.

Ahem, here's the pic. Under the click! ✨✨✨

BAM

👀🚶🏾🧎🏾 I'll do the lineart later I promise 😩😩😩 for the night this my last post. Also 20+ followers rn for plus size Adam twerking vid. 50+ for Skinny Adam 🤭😚

(psst Adam's nipples got hard smh, he a horn dog fr he just don't wanna admit it out loud. Lucifer tryna suck on em fr though but Everytime he's tried Adam yells at him 🥺)

EDIT: finished! Well almost maybe? I wanted to go over the lineart one more good time ^^`

[yourlocalartsonist]

Hi so idk if I’m shadowbanned or something but my posts have been getting lower notes than usual to a concerning degree🧍‍♀️ Like half as much as it usually gets and one post even had 0 notes for like two days which isn’t normal for me-

I’m not done with chapter 9 but even if I was, I obviously am not gonna post any writing stuff until I’m sure nothing’s wrong with my account. But I do gotta yk test first to see if I’m legitimately shadowbanned or not ;v; I have no idea what to do about it cuz google is flip floppy on whether it’s even a thing on Tumblr but Imma just keep posting other content and hope for the best

Speaking of, WIP of a drawing I’m tryna do for chapter 9

Warning for anyone who’s uncomfy with themes of unwanted touch. Nothing too bad, just think about the whole “Kabedon” trend from anime a while back

I wanted to try something a lil comic-like even tho my usual style is more so making my art look like screenshots from a movie or show but my bestie @yosajaeofficial just kept inspiring me from their comic work so here I am✨✨✨ I might do this a lil more often since it was pretty fun to play with

Aight that’s all folks enjoy your time

—

ROTTMNT: Moths Fly In Packs

[furbygoblinxiv]

So here's the MS Paint drawings I've been doing in my coding class this month instead of listening to the professor (and yet I'm still somehow the person participating in class the most. Odd). Yes I DID leave the ms paint tools in when I cropped it, its funnier that way and I'm proud of having done these solely on a bad uni computer mouse in ms paint, what of it?? More info and my current wip under the cut

So my New Years Resolution for 2023 was to post my art at least once a month, just so I could like. Actually share and archive it lol (ignore how I missed April, I posted art May 1st at 12:22am thats like basically still April). Anyways I've realized I barely did any art in November, but I still want to post SOMETHING before the month ends. Hence, this.

The first one was following a Bob Ross tutorial, second is a chicken, third is the heads of the fanf band from memory (thats why the details arent exact and the colors are wrong). The following wip is me just tryna see if I can do any sort of coherent landscape without Bob Ross holding my hand.

Again don't squint too hard at this one, its a WIP I'm posting here so I have somewhere this picture is so that when the chef I share an office with asks what I'm doing in class, I can show him this

I also love trying to explain to my irl friends how to do stuff like blend colors or get the lines to look like trees using just the mspaint tools. Something something limitations and restrictions breed innovation and whatnot.

[nopeferatu]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤



OOF...well, since most of my favorite pieces of writing are eternal wips, I guess I'll just post the snippets here, haha. Please bear in mind that nearly all of them are over a year old, and none of them are very good—I do draw more than I write, after all. But I do dabble here and there and so yeah! This is some of that!

5. Untitled WIP

This is suuuper old, one of the first things I wrote after watching the movie again in early 2022 and falling deep down the rabbit hole. It's actually not that great and is pretty sad in it's entirety, so I tried to grab the better chunk, haha. Try, if you can, to mind the first person pov—I know better now.

It's been years and I still really miss you, Jack. All I known in life is the feeling a missing you. You think I'd get used to the feeling, what with all them months and miles between us in the before times, but this missing you runs so much deeper than these tired bones have ever known before.

Yanno how you said your Mama believed in the Pentecost? She ever tell you 'bout that Bible story, how God made Adam and Eve? It goes like this—the Lord took a big pile a sand and breathed into it to make Adam, then he took Adam's rib and from it, went on to make Eve.

Was thinking on it the other day and figured, what if that's how God made the two a us? What if he breathed life into a pile a horse shit, then when I came up, took my rib, put it in a rodeo fuck up and sent the two a us out to the world, pair a deuces trying to fnd their way? I always thought maybe this hurt was emptiness, where my heart went missing after you were gone 'cause you'd taken it like you took my shirt. Now I'm thinking, what if the pain's from that ol' rib coming back after you died to settle in where it don't belong no more? Tryna rearrange all my insides that gone without for so long, and my body's rejecting it like a horse rejecting rider 'cause it knows it don't belong to me no more, never did, neither.

Then again, maybe it's just busted up in there. Maybe it has been since the summer a '63, and I just ain't taken notice 'til you went on and met your maker.

Maybe this ol' heart's just broken.

Know I shouldn't be asking shit from you considering all the ways I took and didn't give you nothing but hurts in return, but I’m asking as a man who never asked for nothing from you, neither—you wait for me, Jack Twist, just a little longer. Used to say that I couldn't wait to see you again, but you helped give me a second shot, try and fix up what I didn’t think I could hardly stand no more. Now I know I can bid my time here a while longer, being a daddy and granddaddy, living out some a the life that you didn't get to have.

So you wait for me… even if it's just so I can tell you how God damn sorry I am for it all.

I love ya, little darlin'. Reckon I always have, reckon I always will. You enjoy them whiskey rivers, but make sure to save the last round for me.

4. Want

This snippet is also super old, and once again, forgive me for the first person pov. Ik a lot of ppl don't typically like it in fiction and I've also kind of grown unfond of it. I was young! I was dumb! I've learned I've learned I've learned!!!

As I'm crying and coughing up the blood from my lungs into my mouth, the second thought comes to mind: just how bad I want for Ennis to come find me, come and save me from what I know's coming next. But he weren't there. Never was, never would be. The tears came down harder 'cause a that one.

The very last impossible thing I wanted was something I dreamed of for a long time. Even though most everything I craved was outta reach, I always thought I could get it, somehow, some way if I tried hard enough. But from the very start I'd known this want was impossible, and yet sometimes I wanted it more than I wanted life itself.

Dying alone on the side a that hot Texas highway, all I wanted was to be nineteen again, close enough to touch the Heavens on Brokeback Mountain.

I thought I could hear Ennis hollering for me back at camp, and I smiled. I'm comin', cowboy.

Then I closed my eyes, and would never want for nothing again.

3. Untitled WIP

I really hope to finish this one, someday. I really like playing around with the other potential bad end of BBM, where Jack ditches Ennis for Randall after May 1983 because his hope and patience has run dry.

"Name's Randall. Educated type of fella, went to college, got him a job as foreman of the ranch down a ways from my place." Jack takes a deep breath, sighs it out. "Tells me he loves me more times 'n even Lureen's said it," he stays quiet a moment, kicks at the loose pebbles on the ground. "Tell you what—feels good to hear it, too. Man's gotta know he's loved ever now 'n' again, Ennis."

Ennis thinks of cold mountain nights filled with the bleating of sheep and illegal elk, of dozens of jobs taken and abandoned, of divorce; thinks of four years of missing and bruising kisses, of sixteen years of hands worshiping at the temple of a bull rider's broken body, and of every cold night in between filled with dreams about bright blue eyes and the warmth of a perfect smile. He thinks of the last twenty years he spent dropping everything at the siren call of a postcard, and for the first time in his life Ennis thinks about love; wonders what it might be, if not that.

But Ennis doesn't say so, just clenches his trembling fist even tighter into itself.

2. Five Boys that Jack Twist Had Liked (and One More Whom He Had Loved)

This one is another old one that I reaally hope to finish one day. I have a about 3 1/2 of the 6 part written, I just...need to find the gumption to get through the rest.

4. Andrew Peterson

Andrew had been one of his daddy's ranch hands, a boy who would've been two grades above him if Jack hadn't dropped out of high school his sophomore year. He had just graduated, was one of the lucky few whose parents didn't value his contribution to the family finances over his education, and was hired on for the summer in the hopes of making a little cash before heading out of their dead-end town and into the real world. It was a plan that Jack, at sixteen, had already been well acquainted with.

It wasn't often that the Twist Ranch hired hands around his age to help out around the place, and Jack, always the friendly type and more than just a little lonely, had been eager to make a new acquaintance. Andrew hadn't seemed to mind when Jack started taking his chores alongside him, appearing glad for the company, himself. They shared easy smiles and private jokes, becoming such good friends in such a short time that his Mama would tease about one of them losing their very shadow if the other wasn't around.

Just like with Stephen before him, Jack had been drawn to Andrew like a moth to a flame. He never understood what there was in a boy that drew his eye to them in a way that none of the fillies who flirted around with him ever did, until Andrew, after a tiring day mending the old fence posts that corralled the bulls in and about two months worth of dropping frustrated gestures and signals, had said, "Fuck it," pulled Jack out to his Daddy's feed barn and into a scalding kiss that left Jack weak in the knees.

Andrew hadn't been his first kiss—that honor had gone to lil' Miss Sharon King back in the first grade. Seeing as how Jack was well regarded amongst the ladies as a 'pretty boy', there'd been plenty of kisses after that, too. Andrew had, however, been the first kiss that finally had him understanding what all the fuss was about.

As if to slide it on home, later that summer he even made sure to be Jack's first fuck, rounding out on all the bases that left Jack with a whirlwind of questions about himself and even more feelings bursting inside than his young heart ever thought it could handle.

"Been savin' to go to school in Denver," Andrew started, breaking the silence one night out in the feed barn. They sat passing a cigarette and some of his daddy's stolen whiskey between them, riding out the residual high of a midnight roll in the literal hay. It had been dark out, and with only the full moon and the hot red cherry at the end of the cigarette bathing them in their glow, the two were effectively shielded from the scathing eyes of the light. "'m leavin' in a few months, splittin' before fall comes." His gaze was fixed somewhere on the black horizon, watching something that went unseen to Jack.

Jack felt his stomach sink like the stones he used to skip in the creek way out past his house.

"Denver? Ain't that a might bit far for some schoolin'?" He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding choked and strange. Instead, he looked down into the whiskey bottle in his hand and took a swig from it, willing its sweet burn to help him maintain an air of indifference. "What they got down there, anyway?"

Truth be told he didn't blame Andrew for wanting to go—he had been itching to leave Lightning Flat in the rearview, himself. Still, he was unsure that he wanted the conversation to continue. He didn't want to think about his new companion leaving so soon after this something between them had begun. Nevertheless, curiosity—slightly embittered—took hold and ultimately won out.

Andrew took a long drag out of the cigarette. Its hot cherry burned a bright, fiery red before dulling once more to an ashy gleam. "A chance for fellas like us," he finally breathed. The smoky tendrils made their escape past his lips, taking his words with them.

"Oh," Jack muttered after a beat of silence. He wasn't quite sure he understood, nor wanted to understand, what Andrew was getting at, but tried hard not to let his disappointment seep out into his tone regardless.

It hadn't worked. In a moment, Andrew smashed the lit butt out against the wall, leaving them cloaked in darkness once more before leaning over to kiss him sweetly. It had knocked the breath out of Jack, just like their kisses were wont to do.

"Maybe someday you can come pay me a visit. I dunno, it might just be a sweet life down there, yanno?" Andrew's smile, only barely visible under the glow of the full moon above, was easy and inviting.

For once all motormouth Jack could do was smile back before eager hands, warm like the end of the cigarette and the whiskey settled deep in his belly, were on him again, ready to reignite the fire that set Jack aglow.

That summer, Andrew had pressed red-hot marks into his flesh that would soon fade on the outside but sear into Jack's soul for a lifetime, forever branding him as the different sort of boy he had been both warned about and accused of being in the entirety of his short life.

Looking back, he realized he'd known what Andrew had meant all along. At sixteen years old Jack knew what queer was, and finally understood, with no room for doubt in his mind, that it was him. He reckoned that weren't nobody's business but his own, though.

After that summer, Jack never did see Andrew again.

Twenty-four years later, tucked cozy warm into his Colorado bed, Andrew would awake from a dream about blue eyes and wonder, not for the first time, what had ever happened to the kid who'd been his that one short summer before making the move that forever changed his life. Looking beside himself, into the handsome face that had laid dreaming beside him every night the past fifteen years, Andrew would smile and hope that, wherever Jack Twist was in the world, he had gotten out of Wyoming and been lucky enough to make his own bit of bliss out of the hard hand he'd been dealt.

1. Clipped

Summary: Tomorrow may tell another story, but for tonight, this man—with his baby blue eyes, sleepy, self-conscious grumbles, and beautiful clipped dick—was his, all his, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

Aaand here's a fic I've actually posted! Lol! Fun fact: this was actually the very first fic I wrote following watching bbm again in January 2022, and it remains like. The only thing I'm actually super duper proud of. It isn't even that good, but I'm just proud that I actually finished something for once lol.

Thanks for the ask, @alifeasvivid! :D

[defensivelee]

hello to all my kinky William enjoyers out thereee! god has a plan for you, and by god i mean me, and by plan i mean a WIP from the tenth hot spring part two :)

i think i will be posting more Six Lives WIPs as time goes on bc uhh chapters are very spread out in between but im always so excited to show off what im working on and i want to feed you every now and then. some things will probably change in the final draft, or perhaps the WIP won't even appear in the end at all, but for now it's what i'll be happy with posting! if you want to read spoilz free, thats fine too :) obv i won't post any shattering plot points or anything like that

this ones some very nsfw/kinky b&w that i was very proud of and also i shamelessly found it hot so i wanted to post it like rn. i do have to give warnings for mentions of CSA, mentions of incest, having sex while intoxicated, and unhealthy BDSM practices. seriously, do not do what they did here william's just very drunk. otherwise, enjoy :]!

“Yeah...nothing...nothing, nothing, nothing, it was never anything to us...not in New Amsterdam, not to the Overlifers.” He glared up at the ceiling and took Bentinck’s hand. “And not to him.” He pulled Bentinck forward suddenly, and Bentinck gasped, his face flushing as he stared into William’s eyes. He felt the legs spreading around his own, William laughing and caressing his friend’s cheek.

“William, you...” Bentinck wanted to step away, tell him to calm down. But he let his Overlifer guide his hands, so that he found himself pulling away William’s jacket, and then his tie. William sighed in relief.

“Feels so good to have it off, Hans,” he whispered, caressing Bentinck’s cheek with one black nail. “Hm? Thank you. Clothes...fucking hate it.”

“Maybe you could try wearing less,” Bentinck said with an awkward cough.

“What do you think I’m tryna do, Hans?” William laughed again. “Get it all off, baby, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it. It’s always worse when I drink...it’s always better.”

“What?” But Bentinck, once more, did as William said, all while William clumsily undid his belt and threw it to the side. Then he brought Bentinck in for a kiss like never before.

It wasn’t exactly what the Ally had in mind, especially after today. But once he touched the divine lips he gave in, sucking on William’s tongue and stroking his horns until they were both out of breath, though that never said much for William.

“Hans,” William said in between pants, “you are going to fuck me.”

“N-No, I...” Bentinck shook his head. “We tried once. You were so scared.”

“I need that damned fox and I need you,” William growled a little too quickly. “Is this not what you fuckin’ wanted? I want it. I’m not afraid ‘n I never was.”

“William, I’m not going to do this if you don’t really want it,” Bentinck said firmly. “You don’t have to do this for anyone but yourself. It wouldn’t be good for you.”

“I just said I wanted it!” William yelled, snapping his jaws near Bentinck’s face as if he had inherited his father’s sharp teeth. Bentinck jumped back, and William chuckled as he sat up.

“Look, Hans, I got over sucking my daddy’s cock by sucking yours,” he said, grinning wickedly. “What makes you think this won’t work, too?”

“I- I really don’t think you should phrase it like that.” Bentinck let out a nervous laugh as William pulled his pants down.

“Why not? Don’t like it when I call someone else daddy?” William climbed on top of him, and Bentinck couldn’t stop staring. “Want to be the only one, is that right?”

“Please don’t call me that,” Bentinck said. He sighed, relenting at last when William began to unbutton his shirt. “So you think riding me would make it better for your first time? You’d be more in control.”

“He made me ride him, too. When I was sixteen.”

“Oh.” Bentinck looked away. He really didn’t know what to say to that. William was never this forward.

“I’ll be fine,” William said. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, okay?” He shut his eyes, and Bentinck wondered if he was really talking to himself instead. He was tempted to tell him to stop this, he was just drunk and he had no idea what he wanted, but then William was on him and he was so beautiful and he didn’t seem afraid anymore when Bentinck was in him.

It was everything Bentinck thought it might have been. He could tell it hurt William at first, but he seemed to like it even then. He took hold of Bentinck’s wrists and bowed his head, his breaths short and matching his movements. Bentinck gripped his waist to help him out, letting out his own huffs through his clenched teeth. There was never, ever going to be anything that would feel better than this.

“Hans,” William gasped, “hit me.”

“W-Where?”

“Anywhere. Leave a mark.”

“Should we- should we not talk about this first?”

“Fucking hit me, Ally.”

So Bentinck slapped his thigh hard, and William tossed his head back with a vicious roar in his moans. “Oh, Ferocity! Harder, harder, Hans!”

“Again?” Bentinck had to admit, he was pleased with the result of that.

“On my face...please.”

Bentinck slapped his face, tugged William around by his horns and tail, shoved his head back by a grip on his hair, all things William asked for and met with a howl Bentinck would have found hilarious if it really wasn’t so hot. When William lay back on the bed and ordered him to continue that way, he didn’t hesitate— he pinned his master’s arms beside his head and fucked him as an Overlifer was meant to be serviced. William arched his back, crying out and hissing like an animal.

“You’re so fucking hot, William, I hope you know that,” Bentinck leaned in to say.

“And you’re...you’re so big, oh, shit...” William was wheezing dangerously, but neither of them were done yet, and Bentinck only stopped if William told him to. “Blindfold me.”

Bentinck looked around, briefly stopping to reach out for his own tie he’d been wearing what felt like hours ago and tying it tightly around William’s head. That was when William turned around and ordered Bentinck to continue that way, and Bentinck gladly did so, holding William’s tail up just to look at himself inside of the Overlifer.

“Hold my arms back, don’t let me fucking move, pussy—!” William shouted, and Bentinck pinned his arms back, shoving into him as much as he could. William jolted forward with a snarl, his legs shaking. “Fuck, yes! Cum in me, Hans, I want your children!”

Bentinck burst out laughing, just as he came inside William, and then everything was meaningless from there. The only thing that mattered was William gasping, his tightness around Bentinck and his whines under his breath.

“Thank you, sir...thank you...thank you...”

Bentinck paused to catch his breath, then leaned forward to pull down the tie from William’s eyes. “You don’t have to say that to me,” he said with a smile. “I was doing it all for- for you. And I loved it.”

But William didn’t answer. His eyes were screwed shut, his breaths short, and Bentinck rubbed at his back. “William? Do you need your inhaler?”

William opened his eyes and nodded. “It’s...just you.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank the- thank the dwaallichten.” He took Bentinck’s hand and didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

[jojameswinter]

YOUR Jiara week sneak peaks have shattered ME!! Excited for all your work! I’m a sucker for the protective prompt.

Any more sneak peaks, even a sentence or two, for us? 😩

AHHHHH anon tysm, that's so lovely 🥹❤️

As for the protective prompt...that's not one I've been focusing on as of late 😬 I actually do have a protective idea that I really like that would be part of a wip, but I'm not sure if it'll get posted by jiara week! But maybe! Or who knows, a random new idea could come to me still!

I am truly so grateful for you and your support! ❤️ Here's an excerpt:

“You just tryna get me to strip, Carrera?” he calls out to the ocean as he tugs off his shirt and tosses it to the sand.  “Please.” She scoffs with a roll of her eyes. But she doesn’t deny it, doesn’t even try to wipe the wide smile off her face as he splashes into the water.  He breaks away from their heated gaze first, slipping beneath the surface to find some relief in the icy depths. But he scarcely finds it, the last of summer heat rushing over his face, the warmth chasing him. Vividly, he hears Kiara’s laughter from above. Less so, the mumbles of John B and Pope. There’s a pull on his insides thinking about drowning over the last year, how he’d only faintly felt anyone else’s presence, least of all his own. And he wonders if that’ll always be there, no matter what he does – if all of his good moments will have the threat of the undertow beneath. 

[saevus-brutalis]

— WIP WEDNESDAY (and updates in general)

tagged by; @onlymeandlife thxthx (i’m so bad at doing tags as of recent dhjesb)

posting this very late but oh well

i have too many unfinished old sketches than i’d like to admit 😔 but i’m gonna share a snippet of two three most recent projects i’m working on atm

edit; since making this draft i made some more sketches but they’re 😬 rOUGH to say the least so enjoy my favorite ones

tagging 😳; @noirapocalypto @katsigian @spicyraeman (not sure if y’all been tagged in this but if you have something cool to share you’re invited 😼 no pressure as always tho!)

— art

finally dusting off Vincent 😮‍💨

last time o drew him was in uhhh june??? (may?? ig coz i was tryna get that piece done for pride month but—)

yea it’s been a while :]] but he’s back; you may not have seen him as of recently but i’ve been working on him behind the scene (aka lore dumping on whoever would listen lol)

it’s mostly coz i didn’t know what to draw of him, didn’t have any inspiration, and his face turns out good once in a blue moon but let’s not talk about that dhdhdh

but earlier this month i had a ✨ vision ✨ of him in a suit and we’re here now 😮‍💨

once in a while i like putting my man in fancy/designer clothes okay 🤨

cheeky closeup of some details ✨😌

a huge project i’ve been working on since the beginning of december (or maybe since last week of november even); so i don’t wanna show too much before it’s finished 🤫

you could see a bit more in my 2023 art summary (mostly just Dion sitting there in all his glory) but there’s still a bit more. it’s a first proper illustration with a full background for me so the work is going slow

still need to fix a perspective on one thing, perhaps redraw Dion’s face, coz i’ve been experimenting with that; but the lineart is pretty much all done. all it needs is to pick a color scheme, block out colors and start shading (the worst part arguably)

very proud of this one and i’m excited to finish it and show the whole thing 🥺🥺

and last but not least some studies of my beloved tiefling child

trying different head and nose shapes for that guy but it also kinda turned into an expression study? kinda?

[ramp-it-up]

THE WIPS ASK GAME!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

Thank you for the tag @imyourbratzdoll.

So the rules are: I post my WIPs and you all can ask questions. Some of these are old asks. Here we go.

The Representative (bb)

Kiss Me At Midnight (jj)

Greater (sr)

Teaching and Learning (bb)

Hen and Doc II (hc)

Fit and Feel More (hc ce)

Decorated (ce)

Be My Thrill (f)

Dry to wet (sr)

I’m tryna (open)

Tagging: Everyone. Seriously! ❤️

[sky-squido]

For the ask game: Q, X, and, Y?

HI YES THIS ASK IS FROM SEPTEMBER—ANYWAY MOVING ON

Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?

Yeah, actually! I never post anything to Ao3 unless I’m 100% sure I’m going to finish it (even if it takes me literal years). That means both that I’ve never gonna perma-hiatus/abandon a fic if it’s on Ao3 and also that there are a lot of things floating around that I’ve actually put some legwork into that haven’t really gotten anywhere and I doubt I’ll get around to, so they've never really seen the light of day.

i was gonna permadeath hyrule and then i didn’t, details here

i did some light drafting and outlining of a story where the Four Sword splits Sky. it’d have to be long to do it justice and i didn’t wanna commit to that with two active WIPS on Ao3 at the time. i have just finished To Isolate, but i have 30k words of celestial navigation nonsense to now balance with hey four so i doubt i’ll get around to this one

i’ve got 4k words of legend slowly opening up to sky and telling him things and growing much closer and then very belatedly realizing that he knows next to nothing about sky himself. i started it in someone’s discord dms, but it wasn’t really going anywhere that excited me so i dropped it. if people want me to slap what i do have of discarded sketches-but-writing like this one on tumblr, let me know, though i warn you that they’ll all cut off partway through and be deeply unsatisfying

i’ve got 2.5k words of outline for something that’s kind of the same idea i mentioned in bullet 3 but it pulls wind into the mix and instead of being an i-just-dove-in-and-started-writing, it’s a pretty solid outline of something i just didn’t feel like fleshing out. the working fic title was “don’t look at me, i won’t be able to smile for you.”

i have another doc titled “haha lol legend is a punching bag.” this is a very apt title. legend gets nabbed by a baddie, puts up a heck of a fight tryna get away, almost manages, and then gets caught for real, bonked with malice, and unleashed onto his friends because we love to see link v link combat and the old i-know-you’re-in-there-somewhere fight. kind of an extension of that Malice!Legend ficlet i slapped on here a long while ago, but it does way more things. this one’s just an outline.

i’ve got 1k words of legend on koholint talking to marin after realizing the island was fake. had a cool take on marin, but wasn't really the vibe

i have this vague, very fluid concept that’s just “five times legend was helpless and one time he refused to be again.” what those five times are vary every time i try outlining it, but it’s just a lot of legend running into different kinds of The One Problem He Can’t Solve and struggling to cope with not being omnipotent. might actually revisit this one cuz i still like it a lot and i think there were some good ideas in here. my biggest problem with it is the “and one time he refused to be again” because i don’t like the implication that the solution to not being omnipotent is just to Try Harder but “five times legend was helpless and one time he accepted it” just sounds depressing. i’m very open to suggestions on this one!

i’ve got 2k words (written, not an outline) of four coming back to camp one night with red Very Much In Charge so his eyes are very red and then hyrule thinks he’s possessed and draws his sword on him and red freaks out and ditches and the other three have to figure out what’s going on. i didn’t really think it was going anywhere interesting but what really stopped me from continuing was that i started writing four Very Much Like A System and it was cool but then i started researching the neuroscience behind it and psychologist brain went wheeeeeee and now thinking about the fic just makes me want to do research instead of working on it oop

this one venty thing of hyrule just having no energy whatsoever and not wanting to talk to anyone. then he climbs a tree and feels a bit better. that’s literally it, and this one is actually complete, i just didn’t feel like posting it anywhere, though i can plop it here if y’all want.

then i have a silly AU outlined where all of the LU boys are either students or instructors at a flight school (like for airplanes and pilots n stuff). it would have to be really infodumpy though and i’m doing enough of that with my celestial navigation fic. the characters and world are fun but i also didn’t really have a storyline i liked so this hasn’t gone anywhere

there are probably more kicking around but i can’t find them right now

as for discarded scenes and storylines within fics i have actually written, there definitely are some, but i don’t really have any way of keeping track of them. the one i remember most vividly is that there was gonna be a part in to isolate ch.8 where sky overhears legend playing ballad of the wind fish and wind asks him about it and legend says he was hoping this was all some bad dream he could wake up from, but it didn’t really fit in the flow of the narrative we ended up with. there are actually a lot of deleted scenes from chapters 8 onwards because the outline and the actual thing are virtually unrecognizable as being part of the same fic.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer. All of them, obviously, but Wind and Four have been climbing that particular ladder! we need more content of them being deep and interesting and mature together (and wind especially, solo) and what better way to explore that than through strategically deployed angst and suffering!! this bodes well for Hey Four >:3

Y: A character you want to protect. all of them, believe it or not, but right now it’s mostly Legend, shockingly! he’s been my favorite punching bag for a while, but i’ve also noticed myself growing increasingly gentle with what i put him through and how i have him take it lately because these days it's actually way more interesting for me to be kind to him than to bully him

thank you for the ask and i hope you don't miss my reply considering it's been several months sfkghskghsdlfgjsdkl take care!!

[ageofnations]

2022 Writers Tag

thank you @sammysvanfeet and @streamingcolors-gvf for tagging me in this! sorry this took so long!

I think it might be fun to look back on what we've all achieved this year, let you give yourselves a well deserved pat on the back and also share what you love.

1. How do you feel 2022 has gone in terms of writing?

the beginning of this year was great in terms of writing, i had a somewhat easy semester of classes so school didn’t really get in the way, and i didn’t have to work too much this summer, so that was great! as the year progressed tho, my confidence started to struggle, and my self-worth in this fandom kinda declined. i’m still working on getting over that and creating something i know you all would like and i would be proud of. a new job, a harder class load, and grad school prep really made it difficult for me. i’m proud of how far i’ve progressed though!

2. What piece are you proudest of this year? It can be a shot/blurb/headcannon, a whole series or even a specific chapter.

ego. next question

3. Is there anything you posted that you wish had reached more people? (No such thing as a flop here!) Shout it out, it might catch a new pair of eyes!

i believe that all of my fics have done as well as they possibly could’ve, but i wish ego parts 2 and 3 would’ve gotten more attention. i know that unexpected additions to fics don’t do as well as the first part sometimes, though. i think ego is just my proudest bit so im protective of it lmao

4. Can you give us a hint of anything coming before the end of the year? Maybe even a little taster?

before the end of the year, you’ll certainly get more Table For Two (maybe even the finale of the series?) but from me specifically, i’m hoping to finish up a sammy wip to hold you all over until my new josh series is ready to be posted!

5. Are you setting any writing goals for next year, or just going with the flow? If you are, what are they?

mostly going with the flow, but i am setting goals to work on my confidence, discipline, and time management. i am working on sticking to smaller goals (such as writing a certain amount a week) and staying true to it, not posting for notes and rather posting because i am proud of what i’ve done, and figuring out ways to fit writing into my life as a student.

6. Do you have any one shots or finished pieces you're tempted to expand on or revisit next year?

ego, when the night is over, and maybe even a little josh x bip and danny x bip action in the chamomile au. we will see about all of that tho.

7. Is there anything new you're tempted to try out? A new style/trope/AU/another person in the fandom?

i think Wings of Midas will be a new stretch for me in many ways. forbidden love, suuuuuuper slow burn, and unrequited love. not to mention the research im trying to do in order to build the au and the mysteries behind it. it’s a really intricate piece

8. Now to hype some other writers! What's a piece you read back in the first half of the year that you can shout out?

oh dear i have the worst memory. tears of rain by my love @streamingcolors-gvf was (and still is) one of my favorite series. pretty by @jakekiszkaenthusiast is another off of the top of my head. and lazarus and abaddon ofc by @garbagevanfleet

9. And how about something you've read more recently?

the perfect treat by @streamingcolors-gvf has been in my head a lot recently (i wonder why…) so there’s that.

10. A fun one to finish...If you could insert yourself into any fic in the fandom, which would it be and what do you think would happen?

is it vain to insert myself into my own fic… kidding kidding.

put me in sugar plz, im tryna see something…it wouldn’t end how it did, just know that (but i know it had to end like it did, so this is all just /lh)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Thanks as usual for reading.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Things don’t become comfortable, but familiar. You get into a routine, one which smears the days and nights into the other. The landscape helps with that. The sun is fleeting, even in July. The days are longer but it’s not anywhere as stifling or humid as New York. Like everything else, it’s different. 

The man at the fish place, Frederik, knows your name. His wife, Inga too. When you walk in the door, they put your order to fry before you even get to the counter. They’re friendly and warm. It’s nice to have some smiling faces when you can hardly muster the same.  

They like to ask you about New York; they’re finally planning a big trip to America after twenty-five years together. They remind you of Marigold and her bakery. You long for one of her eclairs and her chatty demeanour. Just another thing to miss. 

As you sit down at a table near the window to eat in, your phone goes off. You answer as you read Sam’s name across the screen. He’s the only one you’ve talked to in the last month. Nearly two now. August is close. 

“Yo, yo, girly pop,” he sings from the other end. 

“Girly pop? Sam,” you chide as you hover a thick cut fry before your mouth. 

“Chicky poo, nope. Girly pop, nope. I’ll get there,” he teases, “finally got a hold of you.” 

“Uh, yeah, the site is far. No signal,” you shrug and take a bite. 

“I know, I'm just needy,” he kids. “So, you hitting the spa? Summer’s going fast.” 

“Not yet,” you swallow. “Sam, there’s a lot of work here and it’s just me. The only help I get is from a local student volunteer and they do three hours a week.” 

“Oof, why does your work sound so boring?” He groans 

“Hey!” 

“Well, I mean, digging up dirt all day, tell me you’re not going mad. You making friends? No one to cool, I hope. I’m still your number one guy.” 

“Not really. It’s tough. Long hours. I don’t know,” you stare out the window as you toy with the bamboo fork.  

“If you were going to hide all day in a hovel, you could’ve stayed in New York,” he sighs. 

“Sam, I’m trying. Really. It’s... It’s going to take some time.” 

“Right,” he agrees grimly. “Time. A year is not that long.”  

You hum and lean back in the chair. You’re not as hungry as you were. You close up the container and stand. 

“I know, alright?” You sniff as you tidy the table and grab your food, “but this isn’t a vacation.” 

“It’s also not a missionary trip,” he retorts. “I’m not tryna be a dick here, I’m helping. You need this.” 

You push out into the street and cluck. Silence. You don’t know what to say. He’s right and just like ever day, the conversation is the same. Over and over. It’s going to drive you crazy. 

“More sunlight this time of year, good for work--” 

“No more work talk,” he interjects, “if you don’t got anything fun going on, I'll just have to make you jealous. Some good old fashioned FOMO. Hm, me and Bucky went to Jersey.” 

“Jersey? Why?” You take the bait, happy for the distraction. 

“Oh, yeah, I told him there was a vintage bike for sale there.” 

“You told him that but...” 

“There wasn’t. I just wanted to see him interact with the locals. The old ladies love him but the men... well, I think he might have a warrant out now.” 

“No, Sam, what the hell?” You exclaim as you stroll along. “Are you trying to get him killed?” 

“Hey, I got his back. Just like I got yours. It was just a prank.” 

“Wait, Sam, where exactly did you take him in Jersey?” 

“Some cribbage club, I don’t know. I saw a page for it online. Thought he’d fit in--” 

“They were old?” 

“They match his energy,” he snorts. 

You can’t help but laugh. It feels good. Just that little bit of home. Your amusement is dampened as your heart sinks. You really were so stupid. You didn’t see what you had all around you; Bucky, Sam, more than just Steve. Now it’s all behind you and going back won’t be the same as before. 

💟

There’s tension in the air. It’s going to rain. You suspect your day will be cut short by the gathering clouds but your persist. No use in running. Again. 

The last time you left in fear of a storm, it waited until the next day. So you sit, boots set in the dirty, hunched over as you carefully trace out the strange lump. It’s more than sediment. Bone but not a skeleton. Likely animal and bent into some tool. You have to be delicate. It’s not like the movies, you can’t just dig your hand in and rip it out. 

Your earbud drones as a retro R&B playlist keeps your mind at focus. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove, feeling the flecks of dirt cling to your skin. You ignore it and press on. Just a little more, a little more. 

It’s bigger than you expect. Just as you think it might come free, you find it goes further down. You can make out the jagged break and the hide wrapping at it’s base. A spear of some sort.  

You roll your shoulders out and put your tools down on the open role. You peel of the gloves and reach for the tall insulated bottle of water. You gulp, your throat cooling nicely at the flow. You cap the bottle and clear your throat, listening to the silence of the mountain. 

Yet it isn’t quiet. You glance around at the subtle scratching, a strange tapping across the ground. It could be vermin. It’s not unusual to disturb a nest of one thing or another on a dig but they usually leave early on. 

You put the bottle down and shove your hand back into a glove. A puffy breath comes over the scratching. Several breaths in quick succession, as if there’s something sniff. You keep your other glove in your grip and stand. Your legs are so cramped that your steps are stiff and stunted. 

As you search for the source, there’s a yipe and a fuzzy shape catches your eye. You tilt your head, thoroughly confused at the barking beast. You’re not certain that chihuahuas are native to Norway. At least, you wouldn’t assume so. 

The ashy blond dog has longer fur along its ears and chest and a white bolt down its chest. You can tell it isn’t wild despite its behaviour as it is finely groomed and wears a bright red collar. You approach the fence as it hops, stopping only to try to dig beneath with its dirtied paws. 

“Hi, buddy,” you near the eager dog, “how’d you get up here?” 

You stop just across from the dog and poke your fingers through the fence. It stops, you think a ‘he’, and sniffs your fingers. His cold nose tickles you and you wiggle until you can pet his head. The little thunderbolt emblem on hiss collar peeks through his mane. There might be some information there. 

“Thunder!” The booming voice sounds like the very thing it decries, “Thunder, you pest, where’re you off too?” 

There’s a crunching of soil and rock along the mountain pass as the dog growls and barks again, turning to face the skewing of a towering shadow. You watch in shock at the approach. You didn’t think there was life so far up. That or someone has chosen a rather treacherous hiking trail. 

The dog, you assume ‘Thunder’, bounces back and forth in anticipation of his own, calling to him with his pitchy yaps. The man appears around the jagged rock and you feel the air knocked from your chest. You slowly reach to take out your earbud and tuck it in a pocket.

Wow. You blink to make sure it’s real. To be certain this isn’t some trick of the mind or this ancient land. Maybe the gods are real here. 

He’s tall and broad and handsome. His canvas jacket does little to conceal his muscular build as his jeans are snug to his thick thighs. You think he’s even bigger than Steve. You wince at the reminder of the man but it quickly flits away. You can’t ignore the man before you with his golden tresses twisted back into a low bun, stray strands wisping forward to frame his stony jaw and stormy blue eyes. 

You stand gaping through the fence as the man flinches in fright. His gaze meet yours and his cheeks tinge pink as he gives a crooked grin, “ah, Thunder, my darling, you’ve found a friend.” 

He whistles and the dog lunges forward. He picks up the chihuahua, their size difference almost comical as he cradles him in one arm. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can barely think.  

You snap your mouth shut and clear your throat. Work. That’s what you should be doing. 

“Hello,” the man nears the other side of the fence before you can move away, “I’ve been wondering what this is all about. The signs...” he points with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh,” you peer around as if lost. You sort of are. “A dig. Er. Grant,” you stammer out. You take a breath and still your mind, “I work with an archeological society in New York. We’ve been sponsored by your national board to exhume this site.” 

“Ah, yes, makes sense,” he lowers his brows thoughtfully as the dog squirms in his hold, yiping and biting at his sleeve. “Forgive me, she is rather uncouth.” He raises the dog higher and she wiggles in his arm. You see it now, definitely a pampered girl. “This is Thunder. She lives up to her namesake, eh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you give a brittle smile, unsure. 

“Thor,” he dips his chin down, “I live just up the pass.” 

“You do?” You wonder curiously. “All the way up here?” 

“Oh yes, if you saw the old haunt, you might just want to dig that up too,” he jokes. “We usually go up the pass, towards the river.” 

“The river?” 

“Yes, you mustn’t stray far from here,” he remarks as he raises a hand to lean on the fence, only to nearly tip the unanchored grating. “Oooh, apologies,” he rights himself with a laugh, “anyhow, it is nice to see a new face around here. Better to have a name for it.” 

“Right, uh,” you offer your name and giggle nervously, “it’s just me on-site, guess I forget my manners.” 

“Not to worry. As the resident mountain man, my etiquette does lack,” he winces as Thunder chomps on his thumb knuckle, “eh, you monster, alright.” He holds her up and she pokes her nose through the fence, “she loves new people. Not so keen on the old.” 

“She's cute,” you scratch her nose and she licks your fingers. “Not exactly a native species.” 

“Who knows where she came from? Found the little dragon in the woods. Suppose someone left her there. She was covered in mud, so small I though she was a bloody toad,” he muses as he brings her back against his chest and rocks her, “it was only her thunderous barks which told me otherwise, isn’t that right, darling?” 

He makes a kissy noise at her and her fluffy tail wags wildly against him. You smile more genuinely. It is nice to have another living thing around after digging up the broken and dead for so long. 

“So you’re from New York?” He asks abruptly, his blue eyes rolling over you like a tide. 

“Yeah,” you utter breathily, “yes, New York.” 

“You’ve been here a while?” 

“Couple months,” you shift and twist your glove. 

“Wonderful, and you’ve done much exploring? You must live in town.” 

“About three hours,” you point towards the gravelly road, “haven’t had much time for sightseeing but I found a good fish shop.” 

“A shop? That’s no good. We catch our own fish, fry ‘em up over the pit,” he says, “that’s the way we do it up here.” 

You nod, “sounds fun. Well, er,” you turn halfway and look around, your eyes skimming up to the cloudy sky, “I should probably hustle. Looks like rain.” 

“That it does but it won’t be ‘til midnight,” he assures. 

“You think it’ll hold out?” 

“I know so,” he affirms and lingers by the fence, trying to see past you, “what exactly are you uncovering over there?” 

“Not much so far,” you pull on your loose glove. 

“You must know what this place was. A raider’s camp.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mm, yes, the raiders would camp upon the pass away from those who might come ashore, then go off themselves to find a coast to reap,” he explains. 

“And how do you know all that?” You ask as you tramp back to your place in the dirt. 

“Suppose some of my ancestors camped here with them,” he offers casually, “for so long as we’ve been up here. Once the viking scamps settled, they had to find a home somewhere. Some fellow named Agmundr or another built a stone house further up.” 

“Admundr? Family?” You prompt. 

“Distant,” he assures, “been some time and that stone house is now a foundation.” 

You get down to your knees as you grab your brush and peek over at him, “thanks for the information. I’ll have to add it to the land report. Have them crosscheck in the archives.” 

“Not at all. You won’t find it all on your paper, you know? We carry or history on our tongues here.” 

“Sure,” you say as you bend over the spearhead and start again. 

“You don’t mind if I watch? I always did love history and I’ve never seen a proper dig before.” 

“Not much going on, I’m afraid,” you shrug, “but if you want.” 

“Thunder will have a tantrum if I go,” he chuckles, “she likes you.” 

“Hm,” you scoff, “she is very outspoken.” 

You set your eyes on your task but can’t shake the awareness of your audience. It’s not too unusual. There were a few digs you did early on in the heart of the city and people loved to ogle you. This is different. Just the two of you. A stranger even. Friendly as he is, you’re happy for the fence, even if it is rather flimsy. 

“Those bones aren’t for you,” he says to the dog as she wriggles in his grasp. “Let’s find a stick then, you little pest.”