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John Constantine - art by John Higgins

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Hellblazer, Issue #63 (1993)

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still-beating heart of a virgin

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Hellblazer, Issue #59 (1992)

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I need more fanart of John and his double headed seal baby

Like staring down seagulls like "don't talk to me or my 1.5 sons ever again!"

Seal child mentioned!!

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All That's Needed

Gil makes bread and Thena goes for a walk and that's all that's needed to make a good day

It's a quiet day, the clouds drift over head- sparce and white.

Gil is baking, finding new hobbies in old things all the time.

The world is quiet here.

Thena has gone for a walk, she likes to do that and he likes hearing about what she's seen when she get's back.

It's like a ritual.

Everything here is like a ritual. The waking and sleeping, the weather and sun and the way nothing changes. They do the same things over and over and try to find something different every now and then.

For all of it, Gil could hate it a lot more.

He loves Thena and so all of this. . . it isn't bad. It isn't even barrable. It's just nice. It's pleasant and he looks forward to the small things.

Him, who's seen countless years and battles, who knows at least some of the secrets of the universe. . . he looks forward to the small things because she's in them.

Thena drinks beer made especially for her. . . without alcohol and if she ever knows or suspects she doesn't say.

He doesn't think she does know but just the same. . .

He looks forward to her walks and what she brings back, the lizards and animals she takes as pets, the odd piece of rock she finds. She isn't always really with him and so she see's the world in a strange way but it's still her seeing it. He knows it's still her even if it's distorted by Mahd We'ry.

His bread is baking well, not like the last few batches. He's gotten something right this time but it'll take a few more tries to know what and he has the time.

They have all the time in the world.

All the time and none of the world.

Sometimes he misses the world but it's worth it and he can't see himself doing anything else. Can't see a world without Thena in it.

He catches himself, staring off into the distance as if looking for her. He needs to be paying attention.

This is the last moment for the oven, his bread is almost done and Thena should be back soon so she'll be just in time to get a piece while it's hot.

He smiles at the thought but does focus on what he's doing.

The bread is done and he takes it out, pleased at the brown color and the heat coming from it. Pleased with the smell and the timing.

It's little things connected to little things that make it so wonderful.

Thena get's back right as it's cool enough to eat and smiles as if she knew.

He can never see that smile enough.

Eternity isn't enough.

"What have you made?" She asks. "It smells good. Like the flat bread in Sumer."

He nods. "I've used the recipe from memory and I think I finally got it right. Have a taste."

She smiles again, crisp and striking and comes, taking a bit as he tears it and hands it to her.

She puts it to her lips and eats, never losing her smile.

It's radiant.

It's so blinding.

He smiles and eats a piece himself, finally having gotten it right.

"It's good." She say's and this is what they have in their little world. Small things like good bread and blue skies.

It's enough.

The bread is good and they eat plenty, laughing and sitting back like there's some kind of hope for her. Like things aren't waiting in the wind for them both.

This is a good day. There are bad days too but today is a good day and that's what matters. That's what counts.

They're together as always and the bread is good.

Little moments matter the most under a blue sky.

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The Kids are Alright

Gemma's got a boyfriend and Cheryl isn't sure what to think about him. Worried she calls her brother but Gemma's new boyfriend seems to be playing a game all of his own and neither adult knows what to think. Is John heading off against another magician or is the boy just a little smarmy? When his niece is involved the difference doesn't seem so great.

Gemma's got a boyfriend and Cheryl is concerned.

The boy is nothing but smiles and friendly comments, he helps around the house when he comes over and he's everything she should be wanting for her daughter except he isn't. There's just something off about him. Something she can't put her finger on.

Maybe if things were different and Tony. . . well fuck if things were different then she wouldn't have to feel this way all on her own.

Alan however is always smiling and charming and she wants to like him so very much except she just doesn't.

Gemma get's angry when she mentions it. She wants to live her life and she wants to make her own decisions and Cheryl remembers what that's like. She wants to let her but Alan is starting to creep her out and she can't say why and that just seems to piss Gemma off.

She never imagined her daughter ever being angry. When she was a baby she seemed so happy but like all Constantines she eventually got her share of the bad and now Cheryl just hopes she'll finish school.

She wonders sometimes if Gemma can picture her when she was her age. She does know what it's like to be young. She had a whole world of hell to live with back then. . . she doesn't tell Gemma this, let her think her grandad was a good one. Keep the demons down and the doors locked.

In the end she calls her brother, the only person left now who remembers her at Gemma's age. The only person who knows what kind of hell went on behind their own closed door.

He's cheerful when he picks up, talking animatedly until he senses something's wrong.

"It's Gemma, she's got herself a boyfriend." She say's.

He laughs but it's shallow. "You don't sound too glad of that." He say's. "What's the trouble?"

She shakes her head and sighs. "I don't know. He just bothers me. There's nothing wrong with him, he's polite, he's nice, he seems to treat her right I just don't know."

"Does she like him?" He asks.

She sighs. "I've never seen her like this. Maybe that's it. She's growing up. I don't know John I just. . ."

Maybe it's her voice but he clears his throat, reminding her of when they were kids. "You want me to come by?" He asks. "Maybe meet the lad and see what he's about?"

She nods. "Would you?"

It's selfish. John is on the other side of the country. He doesn't need to come all the way here just because she can't the number on a teenage boy.

Who could though?

Yet he does come, right as Gemma and Alan get out of school.

He's in her kitchen when they come home and Cheryl see's Gemma smile. It's not the same smile from when she was little. She used to adore her uncle but Cheryl thinks in recent years she's started to get a little cold with him.

Maybe it's just moody teenage years, lord knows she had them herself.

It was different then though, back then she'd have done just about anything she could not to stay in the house. She'd hated it there. Her drunk dad and her brother always in trouble. She'd gone out with school friends and boys who'd thought she was pretty. Left them to the stink of drink and their misery.

John shakes Alan's hand and the boy smiles, polite and charming as ever.

"You must be the uncle." He say's. "Very pleased to meet you."

John shrugs. "Gemma told you about me?" He asks.

The boy nods, pearly, white teeth showing. "She did indeed. Gemma spoke very highly of you, sir."

Her little brother who used to steal her make up and use it for paints put's his hands up. "Easy with the 'sir' stuff." He say's. "I'm not that old."

"Oh no sir, didn't mean it like that." Alan say's and there's just something Cheryl doesn't like about him.

They let the kid's go into the sitting room and stay at the kitchen table.

"What do you think?" She asks, her cup of tea cold in front of her.

There's a chip on the table.

One of Tony's leavings.

John shrugs. "Seem's like a descent kid to me." He say's. "Trying a bit hard but that doesn't make him bad."

She taps her knuckles on the table. "Maybe I'm crazy." She say's. "But John I swear it. There's something about that boy."

He softens a little. "I'll spend a few days, try and talk to him. I suppose he comes round a bit then?"

She nods. "Funny, I've never met his parents. He doesn't really talk about them but they're kids so I try not to pry. . ."

John gives her hand a squeeze. "I'll stay a few days." He say's and she's glad of him, grateful for him.

Glad and grateful she's not alone.

She wonders if John knows some of the thoughts that live in her head, the memories and the awful little things from their childhood she can't forget. The paint on their front door and the floor boards that squealed. . . the anger inside.

She's made a good life for herself, had a family even if it's turned to shit of late.

John's the last link to who she was then and she's always loved him. She thinks he might be why she did so well with Gemma. . . she got a trial run on her baby brother. Had to raise him in some ways because dad wasn't going to do it.

Now she's just a mum worried about her kid and her brother is the only one she knows she can turn to.

She worries about Alan but she'll get her brother's opinion before she makes up her mind, after all mums are supposed to worry so maybe it's all just normal.

Chapters 1-6 in the link!

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A Matter of Convenience

John goes out to buy some smokes and get's caught up in the affections of two star crossed lovers. The only problem is that he can't tell if they're human or not.

There's a level of equalizing that happens at a convenience store or grocery past sunset. People out for cigarettes and cheap beer. . . people nabbing up things they've forgotten and things they didn't know they needed.

Seven Elevens and Tescos, neon and fluorescent lights.

When John sets foot into one of the worst Tescos in London he can't help but feel a little irritated. Despite the late hour it's packed with people in various states of sleepwear and unkemptness.

He supposes though that that's just the evening crowed, the post supper rush and he falls into line behind a woman with socks pulled up over the cuffs of her jeans. He just wants cigarettes and is inspecting a bag of marked down crisps when a commotion towards the front of the lime draws his attention.

"Oi! You speak English, don't you?" He hears an annoying voice shouting at the clerk. "Said black one's, didn't I? Not reds you Paki fuck."

"Very sorry." He hears the clerk mutter, head down.

John rolls his eyes.

To do something or to not do something. . . he wonders if Shakespeare ever had to put up with any chavs in his day.

"You counted my change wrong!" Comes a fresh shout and the woman in front of John taps her foot impatiently.

"Bloody foreigners." She mutters. "They just let anybody in these days. Anybody except the whites."

John makes a bit of a face. "Right cause the local lad is so upstanding."

She gives him a dirty look and he knows she hadn't asked for his opinion but then he hadn't asked to hear hers and a girl falls into line behind him, a bottle of Coca-Cola under her arm and slippers on her feet.

"No, let me count it!" The idiot at the counter snaps. "One. . . two. . . see what I'm doing here?"

"Oi, it's a pack of smokes. Take it and go!" John shouts, he's been in line way too long, sandwiched between dim, fluorescent lighting and cracked linoleum tiles.

He can see the kid now, he's young with a half shaved head and a wrinkled Adidas windbreaker track suit on. He should have guessed though. Clearly not the most original fashion thinker in London.

"What was that, bruv?" The kid asks, spinning around to look at him. The poor clerk looks exhausted. "You know me? Nah I don't think you do so you're gonna shut up, alright?"

John rolls his eyes.

He shouldn't have said anything. "Just trying to get some smokes mate, before the sun rises."

"Well you'll wait your bloody turn." The kid shakes his head and snatches up his change and smokes with indignation before turning to the clerk again. "Bloody inconsiderate." He say's, gesturing over his shoulder towards John who get's angry but doesn't speak. The kid is almost out of the shop. He doesn't want to give him one more reason to turn around.

The bell dings and finally the kid is gone, the woman ahead of him get's her smokes and her scratchers and he get's his Silk Cuts at last but as soon as he's got a foot out the door something comes at him from the side.

He grunts and ends up sprawled out on the ground.

"What the hell?"

It's the boy from the shop, windbreaker reflecting light from a street lamp overhead. He's sniffing and squared up. "You don't talk to me like that, bruv." The kid say's, wiping at his nose.

John winces and checks his cigarettes. They're unharmed. "Right." He mutters, rolling over and getting up.

The kid shoves him again, hopping from foot to foot like he's probably seen fighters do on t.v.. "You need to show some respect. That's my shop there." He points at the electric sign and rubs at his nose again. "Got it?"

This is ridiculous. Some little punk is nipping at his heels over a jab in the check out? "Right, my bad." He mutters.

"That's right it is. Look, gimmie your wallet and we'll call it even, yeah?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Look mate I spent what I got on my cigs. Don't have any more."

"You want an ass kicking?" The kid shouts, voice high pitched.

"No I don't want a bloody ass kicking, I'm telling you I don't have any money. Only came out for some smokes, didn't I?"

The kid seems to think this through and then nods, slowing in his bouncing for a second. "Okay, yeah. Right." He mutters. "Right then, give em here."

"Fuck no." John say's, stowing his smokes in an inner pocket of his coat just to be sure. "Piss off you little bastard."

But the boy isn't looking at him any more. He's staring across the street at a girl and it must be love at first sight because she looks like the chav queen. Her pony tail is high and tight and her hoops glitter in the neon electric light spilling out of the Londis behind her.

"Fuck now that's a woman." The kid breaths.

John looks behind him, can't agree although she definitely appears to be female and he shakes his head, thinking he might actually have gotten lucky. "You should go get her number." He mutters.

All fight forgotten the kid shakes his head. "Me, go up to a girl like that and get her number? You must be joking."

John fishes out a cigarette, still kind of disgusted by this evening's turn of events. "Maybe but what's the harm then?"

Whatever the harm is it doesn't matter because a few moments later three young men in North Face jackets approach them and his new friend turns skittish.

"Ah shit." He hears him mutter.

"Oi, rat boy!" One of them calls him and to his great relief, John is forgotten. Windbreaker boy turns, looks back at the girl outside of the Londis and takes off running down the street, disappearing down an alley way as the three new fellows take off after him, shouting threats and insults.

John looks back at the girl who watches with some amusement before shaking his head and heading home.

Christ, all he'd wanted was some smokes.

Chapters 2-4 in the link below on ao3 (Haven't figured out a good way to post multiple chapters to tumblr)

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when spike told xander he was off the usher list in something blue i lost it. he wasn’t even invited as a friend he was gonna be their employee😭😭😭

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yyh? in 2024?

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oh no i totally forgot to post this refined Sting...

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nothing but respect for Captain Peroxide o7

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worlds best most evil husband

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Drew Edmund Exley ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️, Bud White, & Jack Vincennes from my second favorite movie in the whole world, L.A. Confidential (nothing beats Men in Black 3). GAHLY I LOVE GUY PEARCE

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I didn't draw him for a long time ( ´ ▿ ` )

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John Constantine - art by Dalibor Pehar 

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Lupin The Third (1980)