#I know there are so many anatomy mistakes idk what i'm doing what even is drawing

[analyticalnonsense]

Lawlight Week- Day 2: Soulmates

tw: blood According to Greek mythology, humans were initially created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus splits them into two separate parts. Condemning them to spend their lives in search of the other half. And when one of them meets the other half, something wonderful happens. The two are stuck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging, by desire. And they don't want to be separated from the other. Not even for a moment... -Plato, The Symposium

[mcwentfandomtraveling]

The Iron Scorpions as Told by Ashiya

Quick a/n : So I felt like writing a very short fic for The Devil is a Part-timer fandom because a) I love it and b) there aren't a whole lot of fics for this fandom compared to others and c) especially Alciel/Ashiya doesn't have nearly as many fics...so...since this has been tugging at my heart for quite a while now I decided it needs to exist on my blog...anyways! Still anxious and depressed so please no constructive criticism yet! I know better then anyone that it's absolutely ass...it has mistakes...the formatting is off...the punctuation is horribly awful...but I'm just so not in a place yet mentally to do better...so please go easy on me! I really am not doing good with this kind of stuff atm. Anyways, my main sources for Hataraku Maou-sama/The Devil is a Part-timer are the anime and the manga since I don't have access to the light novel, but Ashiya to me is one big question mark ever since hearing what type of demon he is...and I'm just making my own personal headcanons and stuff that I'm adding to this fic about the Iron Scorpion clan or sometimes demons in general...so this is just my ideas and interpretations mixed with the canon material...hope that's alright!

Also I'm not specifying the gender of the reader and using they/them, and there's lots of my personal ideas for the Iron Scorpian clan...Anywho...

Warnings and just stuff to know/literary ingredients that make up this fic : Talks polyamory, demon mating cycles, marking mates, Y/n has a sort of "bouncy" personality idk it just what happened..alright 😅, Ashiya might seem OOC to some people but this is just how I picture him, anyways the fic is not inherently sexual...it just talks about mating, weird demonic scorpian demon anatomy, no beta (obviously), again tons of mistakes...I am aware of them, I'm just to tired and depressed to fix them, so kindly just ignore them to the best of your ability!

You have now been informed!

Fic is under the cut!

The Iron Scorpions as Told by Ashiya

The distant city sounds created a calming hum of white noise while Ashiya washed the dishes in the tranquility of the evening light's glow.

"Y/n" he said catching thier attention.

"Yeah" they responded stretching thier arms upwards as they sat at the table in the center of the room.

"It's quite nice having just the two of us in here" he remarked having a gentle smile on his face.

Y/n hums a "Mmm" in delight.

Ashiya smiles as he dries his hands on a towel, now having finished washing the dishes.

He sits down beside them as they lean thier head onto his shoulder, he smiles fondly at thier display of affection.

"You've been awfully quiet, what's on your mind" he asks, enjoying his lover's company.

Y/n gently wraps thier arms around his arm, as they continued to have thier head on his shoulder.

They quickly nuzzle his neck causing him to laugh a bit in surprise.

"Honestly, you..." he replies laughing softly.

Y/n hums in delight having accomplished the task of hearing thier beloved's laugh.

Ashiya looks at them smiling at the affectionate touch of his partner "Alright, what in particular is making you so desperate for my touch today?" He inquired smiling softly.

Y/n smiled and let go of his arm choosing instead to fall onto his lap dramatically.

They looked up at him feeling a bit embarrassed but decided to talk nonetheless.

"Well I couldn't help but wonder about you...I've only gotten to know you in your human form...but well...you're a demon...so I don't know you as much as I should, so I wanna know more about you...Alciel".

Ashiya's eyes widened in surprise, it felt nice hearing the name he grew up with since childhood come from thier lips.

His own lips softly hummed in delight, thinking about what he might say about himself before looking back awkwardly and coming up short of any ideas on where to start.

Y/n laughed softly.

"Mind if I ask some questions then?" They asked.

Ashiya nodded softly at the suggestion as he waited eagerly wondering what they want to ask.

Y/n took a deep breath and looked up at Ashiya.

"Well, I know you're from the Iron Scorpion clan and I know Maou unified the demon realm, but...I genuinely know nothing about you as a demon or your clan..." they said awkwardly.

Ashiya smiled and looked up feeling a nostalgic warmth of memories.

"Well...what in particular would you like to know about my clan?" He asked.

Y/n blushed awkwardly.

"Well for starters...you're called the Iron Scorpions, does that mean you guys have your own venom? And like a stinger?" They asked.

Ashiya smiled.

"Yes, we're called Iron Scorpions for a reason, we do in fact have venomous stingers, however they are our last means of defense...we typically try to defend ourselves with our own combat skills because our stingers are our last line of defense, if our tails are cut off then...well either we'll be rendered handicapped for life or it might kill us...so we try to be cautious".

Y/n smiled and noded, "So what happens if someone accidentally happens to trip and injure themselves on your stinger?"

Ashiya smiled, "Well our clan, I'd say we're quite good at alchemical medicines surrounding venom and poions in the demon realm, especially to cure our own venom when we sting someone by accident which rarely happens since we can control when we release venom, however accidents happen, unfortunately my knowledge of poisons and venom does not translate into pharmacology or any kind job here for that matter in Japan, mainly because we have very different elements and ingredients in our world, back in Ente Isla that is, a lot of the same too, but also different things which came as a result of having magic in our world when this one does not".

Y/n nodded, feeling excited learning about Ashiya to which he laughed happily at thier enthusiasm.

He looked back at them and said "Anything else you wanted to know?"

Y/n hugged Ashiya in delight unsure how to contain thier happiness.

"Yes please" they said, as they suddenly blushed.

Ashiya looked intrigued at this reaction.

"Oh, may I hear the question my love?" He asked.

They continue to blush as they look away awkwardly, "Um...do Iron Scorpions have a mating season?" They finally ask.

Ashiya laughs finding thier awkwardness endearing, "Yes, we have a mating season, typically in warmer months, but that doesn't have much bearing on me in human form, however if you're interested in experiencing a demon mating season and mating with me in demon form then I wouldn't be against it, we're already together afterall".

Y/n nods and asks "what does mating season include?"

He smiles and says "Well, typically the smell of pheromones gets us...in the mood...and I can assure you, your pheromones smell enchanting my love. In our clan we mainly start out making the mood right for our mates...like how you humans like to wine and dine your dates before sleeping with them, we Iron Scorpions like taking our mates dancing, then once the mood is right we'd take them back and sleep with them, now what you're most interested in is the actual mating process, correct?"

Y/n blushes and nods thier head up and down enthusiastically in response.

Ashiya laughs at thier reaction, "Well, alright then!like most demons we like claiming our mates! We can control the release or retention of our venom...so we end up stinging our mates to have our marks and scents cover them for others to know who they belong to, without our venom being used in the sting of course, and we also use our tails to restrain our mates, and our black scales vibrate when we churr, now remember that we're covered in black scales on most of our bodies! Now as for penetrative sex, well Iron Scorpions have a demonic version of a cloaca, it's similar but different then ones you've heard about, we can have penises and we can also have vaginas, so Iron Scorpions chose how they identify whenever they get an idea, all of us can impregnate and be impregnated, that's just how we are" Ashiya explains.

Y/n blushes and buries thier face into his shirt quickly as he gently holds them close.

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?" Ashiya asks as he gently rubs thier back soothingly.

Y/n regains some of thier composure to talk again, "Um, well...I heard that unlike how in humans monogamy is the norm, within most demon clans its normal to have many mates, is that true?" She asks.

Ashiya smiles and nods.

"Yes, it is! good job on learning that Y/n, it is true" he says.

Y/n smiles, "So...you know how we both also like Rika? Mind if we both confess to her and both be mates?" They ask.

Ashiya smiles affectionately.

"I'm very glad you're willing! Absolutely!" He said.

Y/n quickly cuddles him affectionately and nuzzles his neck again.

Ashiya laughs happily, "My my! You're quite cute my love".

Y/n hums in delight then speaks up again.

"Hey Ashiya, thanks for telling me more about you" they say.

He smiles, "absolutely my love, I'm glad I got the opportunity".

He hugs them and tightens his grip tightens slightly at the joyous feeling of having his lover close, he smiles and says "Now instead of explaining courtship and nesting, I'll let you experience it with the time we spend".

Y/n smiles, "I can't wait" they say and they stay happily in thier lover's embrace.

[stxrvel]

the 5 stages of (my) life

summary: he was everything. there was no before or after him. it was just him.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: i think 7k?

warnings: thoughts of loneliness, depersonalisation, mention of depressive symptoms, a lot of bad words at some point, implicit descriptions of sex. i wrote this to be pure angst, idk if i got it, we'll see, you'll tell me.

note: i was watching Grey's Anatomy today and a specific episode about a couple inspired me to write this. it's too inspired by that so thank you Grey's! i don't know if i got the angst i wanted, i hope i did. i actually wrote this just with suffering on my mind. anyway, hope yall like it!! (English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!) also, I uploaded this at half past one in the morning so I didn't have time to edit the quotation marks, but tomorrow night I'll make the text look much nicer!

thank u for reading!

You never thought things would go this far.

"I'm not going to stand here and watch you risk your life because you're incapable of expressing your feelings. I'm not worth being put through this."

"You're talking about my fucking life! Why do you want to take control of all the shit I do now? Fuck you."

"I can't believe how fucking insane you've become."

You never thought things would get worse like this.

"I gave up a lot of things for you and you know it!"

"You make it sound like I forced you to. I never asked you to give up your life for me!"

"Exactly, that's the damn problem! You've never asked me to do anything, you've never asked me to do anything, I've just done all this stuff on my own trying to cope with a relationship that's become… one-sided!"

You had heard for a long time how a great many people had said that their best relationships had started with a flame. You couldn't count on the fingers of your hands the number of times you've heard someone say that the best relationship is the one that is always alive, where they keep the flame burning.

But what if it's not a flame? What if it all started with a fire?

You'd heard a lot of things about love, about life, about attachment, but you'd never really experienced it, and you couldn't know how, with the lifestyle you led, your reactions would be when you finally had one. Although, honestly, you didn't expect to ever have one after so many disappointments and abandonments; however, there was one thing that was common about love, that you had heard everyone say: it comes when you least expect it.

But the moment came and, after that event, you considered that your life had only five stages. Only five truly remarkable things that had brought you to the eternal extreme of misery. There was nothing before, there was nothing after. There was only him.

1

You had seen that man, by far, about seven times in the last month. He had a stern look on his face, as if he was in a constant staring match with someone inside his head, or as if he was someone completely drained of emotion, who had lived and felt too much and was tired of it.

Or maybe he was just unfriendly.

Every time you went to therapy, within the last four weeks, you met that man.

The two of you always waited, sitting across from each other in the narrow hallway, trying fiercely to avoid each other's gazes. Or well, you tried not to meet his too much, sometimes it really felt too heavy. Then he would be called first and, more often than not, he would come striding out with his hands clasped. If his vibe was too strong for the session, your therapist never tried to point it out. When he left, the doctor would appear behind him with her typical half-smile calling you by your last name, even though you had asked her not to do so several times.

The other times, which were not so common, the man actually took the time to look serene. You even thought you saw him give you a nod in greeting once, but you couldn't be completely sure of that.

You had never spoken to each other, you were just two strangers who happened to be in the same place at the same time of day at certain times of the week. Still, sometimes, when his eyes met yours, you felt like you were looking into a mirror.

Anyway, you had never spoken to each other, until one day you decided to change that, just because what was the worst that could happen?

"After a while it feels like you have no reason to come, don't you think?"

The man turned his head, and it was the first time he saw you out of volition. His clear eyes moved in an almost imperceptible way, analysing something about you, your face, your clothes, your posture. He looked like a predator ready to strike, but he didn't count on you being a very, very chill gazelle.

"I don't know if you can relate, but it's been really hard for me to come these last few times. I think my only motivation is to come here to have a battle with you of who can go the longest without seeing the other for 30 minutes even though our feet are almost touching?"

You thought you heard a snort in response. Mmm, it wasn't much, but worse was nothing.

"You could just not come," he replied, more crudely than you expected, actually surprising you because you didn't expect him to even pay attention to you.

"Yes, I could," you agreed with him, your gaze drifting to the white tiles, "Anyway, I don't have someone who really cares that I'm okay."

You twisted your lips in a very conformist gesture, and dismissed your attempt at conversation as a failure. Indeed, what was the worst that could happen? That the man would think you were pitiful. But what does it matter? He is a stranger. He's the only person you see regularly besides your therapist. Why should you care that the conversation didn't work? You shouldn't expect the opposite. At some point he'll stop going, he can't be as bad as you. When you least expect it, it will just be you in that narrow hallway again.

"Therapy can be very counterproductive for people who are alone."

You looked up when the man spoke again. You didn't know if you were seeing wrong, but his gaze wasn't as hard as before. He seemed… sympathetic.

"If it makes you feel any better, you're not alone when we wait in this hallway."

You didn't answer him. You watched him as if he were a fly swatted on a wall. You didn't know what to say. What was that supposed to be? Words of support? From a stranger? And what was supposed to be a response to them? That man had flipped the table on you, catching you off guard, and that didn't make you feel very good.

You watched him even after a while in silence, when he had already looked away, his head was down and he had focused on other things. You didn't know what your scrutiny was about; you didn't know whether you were looking for a lie or a mockery, a truth or a ruse. You didn't even know what it was all about. But what does it matter anyway? He's a stranger. He's a stranger sharing that narrow corridor with you. A stranger. A stranger who gave you a few words of support. A stranger. It's a stranger. He is a person.

You shook your head, suddenly regaining your composure. You ran your hands over the fabric of your trousers several times, up and down, down and up. Constantly. About ten times.

You didn't know if it was just you, but you felt suddenly obfuscated in that corridor. As if the walls had invisible hands closing around your throat.

You didn't really know much. You only knew that after the doctor called the man, James, you would never again take the liberty of speaking to strangers as if they were acquaintances, especially those in therapy.

But your mind went blank when James stood up and, before he left, looked at you as if it was something he had planned to do. As if he really wanted to do it. As if he had intended to…

No.

No more.

2

It didn't work.

Of course, it goes without saying that it didn't work.

How could it work? You saw him at least twice a week. And you were weak. Too weak. Too weak. Extremely and potentially vulnerable to suddenly hitting people who gave you a little affection and understanding. You were vulnerable to hitting people. You were vulnerable to ending up in therapy. You were vulnerable.

So what didn't work? Trying to limit your conversations with James to looks. Over the next three weeks, he seemed to have made it his mission to try to keep you company. Did he have any idea how uncomfortable that was for you? But you weren't going to tell him, how could you? Apparently the man wasn't a grumpy, mean looks machine, he was definitely a person who was getting some therapy. He was a person who understood your situation because he had to go through it himself. He was a person. He was a stranger.

Mostly, at that moment, you remembered the conversation that had led you to be in that coffee shop. It was strange. You felt alien to yourself, to your surroundings, but you tried to keep your mind enlightened so you wouldn't freak out.

"You look different."

"We saw each other three days ago."

James twisted his lips. "That's no excuse for not noticing that you look different."

You took a deep breath.

"You really made it your business to talk about something every time we see each other. Did you get tired of me beating you in the staring duels?"

"I'm just trying to get you back in therapy."

"By harassing me with questions?"

"By turning me into a person who cares."

You frowned. The constant knot in your chest was starting to become more and more unbearable. You felt the food from that morning in your throat.

"You'll get the opposite."

James pursed his lips and held up his hands.

"Hey, are you doing anything on Saturday?"

That had been the first time. Yes. Completely out of the loop, somehow you'd agreed the first time. And maybe it wasn't as bad as you'd hoped. Or maybe it was. You had no idea. Just as you had no idea how you had ended up in the same situation for the fifth time.

Fifth time? My goodness.

"You're particularly quiet today," James' face suddenly materialised in front of you.

At what fucking point had he arrived?

"I'm always quiet."

"Not as quiet as today. Are you okay?"

"What are we doing?" you blurted out suddenly. You didn't even process the words in your head until you saw the man's face contort in confusion.

"What are we doing?" James repeated your question, "We're having coffee in a coffee shop."

"You're a top notch clown, you know that?"

The man let out a laugh, and you watched his shoulders move in time with his breaths.

"We're just sharing time. Don't freak out."

"Sharing time?"

"Yes, sharing time."

"I don't think I've shared time with someone in a long time."

"That's not bad. It's good to share time with yourself."

You twisted your lips. You stared at the bubbles in your coffee, still steaming on the table.

"I had to learn to share time with myself," you looked up to see him with his head cocked to one side, a gesture you had learned to associate with his absolute attention to your words. "You've shared time with yourself?"

James nodded.

"All the time, to tell you the truth. I can barely escape myself."

You smiled at him. The constant knot in his chest seemed to have subsided for now.

"I guess we both got to learn."

The man raised his glass of black coffee, tilting his head, "It's the hazards of the job."

Yes, that was definitely what it had to be about. The things that constantly occupied you outside of coffee shops and therapy. Of the things that occupied your head so that you didn't delve into your intrusive thoughts, even though sometimes they seemed to come alive and present themselves in the faces of the people you saw in your daily life.

Undoubtedly it must have been because of that night job. It wasn't a job you loved, it was a job you imposed on yourself to try to make yourself feel better at night when you were trying to sleep. It was a duty. It was a task you couldn't refuse. Too many people had already died for you to give up. You had nothing left.

Many people said it was the job of a vigilante; other people said it was the job of a criminal. In the end, what did it really matter as long as it left you with a clear conscience?

Your therapist knew, but you didn't know if James knew. If he was aware of it and preferred to overlook it to have coffee with you. Or if he knew and preferred to ignore it so as not to ruin things. Or if he knew and pretended he didn't so you wouldn't notice he was doing it all out of pity. Or if he didn't know.

Honestly, you didn't know which was worse.

Sometimes you thought things were better when you were just strangers in a narrow hallway. Sometimes you thought it would be better if you didn't have to make an emotional commitment to him, even though you knew you were already doing it; unconsciously you were doing it.

You had always believed that it was better to be alone. Not to have company. Not to share time with someone you could potentially lose. It was easier to get the job done when you got home and didn't have to answer a text or remember that there's someone waiting for you to text them that you got home safe and sound.

"Hey, don't overthink it."

James' voice broke your concentration. You focused your gaze on his face, suddenly feeling oblivious to the whole scenario.

"You don't have to give it a name, or even think about it. If you really, from the bottom of you, didn't want any kind of company, don't you think you wouldn't have come the first time I asked you?"

"Are you saying this is what I want?"

"I'm saying that you're a person who's used to being alone, but you don't have to be if you don't want to be."

"You're an enigma."

James smiled. "Thank you. I think the same about you."

But it was true what he'd said, you were thinking too much. One of the things your therapist kept telling you was to try to stop living in your head. Acknowledge your surroundings, feel every sensation and take in every possible smell.

It was difficult when the reason you wanted to be in your head all the time was the same reason that all your senses were perceiving at the same time.

But you tried. You felt the wood of the table and the warmth of the coffee cup, you took in the smell of caffeine and James's perfume, a little piney and citrusy, you savoured the coffee left in your mouth from the last time you took a sip. Slowly you tried to bring yourself back to that moment, to focus on your present and, sadly, to acknowledge that you were in a coffee shop with James Barnes.

It was something you constantly shied away from. To acknowledge that you spent time with him. With him. That he deliberately chose to spend his time with you. That you, intentionally, decided to spend your time with him. With the one who started out as a stranger. A person. A friend. A…

No.

3

It had been a while since you had decided to stop closing yourself off to all the possibilities life had to offer. Sometimes you didn't recognise how you got to that point, but other times you felt something close to pride for allowing yourself to go that far. And, really, it could have been one of the best or one of the worst decisions you had ever made in your life.

You spent weeks trying to deny James coming into your life, but the moment you opened the door to him, you had only gone up.

You didn't know you missed the company of a friend on sleepless nights and confessions. You didn't know you longed for the warmth of a lover until hours passed and you couldn't tear yourself away from each other. You didn't know you wasted time denying the feeling. You didn't know that you needed to take a few days off from the exhausting work you had set for yourself. You didn't even know that the work was exhausting.

When you were able to recognise all those things, you were also able to recognise that you had been living life on the edge. You were constantly exposed to everything before you met James. Exposed to danger, to death, to loneliness. You were living too fast because you felt you had no time, that at any moment you would run out of time and you wouldn't have done enough.

And then you finally decided to give yourself a break. From everything. Absolutely everything. Everything.

You moved in with James.

Yeah, definitely.

You took turns shopping. You took turns doing the dirty dishes. You took turns cleaning the flat. It felt like perfect harmony; like suddenly everything was in its place and it seemed like nothing could go wrong from that point on.

"Wait, wait!" you exclaimed with laughter. You moved your body off the bed, the peach-coloured sheet covering your body. You tried to stretch to reach for your mobile phone on the nightstand but James' hands around your waist prevented you from moving too much.

"You can answer that when we're done," the man purred, his hands straining, but not too hard, to pull you back onto the bed.

"Hold on a moment, James Barnes," you mumbled back, when you finally reached for the mobile phone and let out a triumphant laugh.

Vanessa Lennox, you read on the screen, as you felt James cling to your back.

"It's Vanessa," you told him as you unlocked the phone to check her messages.

"Vanessa texts you all the time."

"I know."

"All the time."

"That I know."

"These nights are supposed to be for us. She's not asking you out, is she?"

"No, no, she's…"

I'm in trouble. Can you come over?

"She's all right."

I can't, but I'll write to Tommy. He told me he was watching today, he must be near where you are.

"Are you sure?" you felt James' breath on the back of your neck, as his lips began to touch the most sensitive parts of your back.

"Yes…" you replied in a whisper. "She's going to be fine."

"Then stop turning your back on me," James spoke, his breath colliding against the small of your back. You arched unconsciously. "Look at me."

You inhaled air sharply, leaving the mobile phone locked to the side of the bed. You let James's hands guide your movements until you were trapped in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

"You're bossy sometimes, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Only you, to be honest."

"Yeah, sure you have," you smiled incredulously.

You stirred until you could stand face to face with the man you shared a bed with every night. His light eyes quickly met yours, and his hands squeezed each side of your waist.

It was getting a little chilly. There were nights when you didn't know how you could stand to be so long without clothes under those sheets. It was easier for James, the weather didn't affect him as much as it did you at the moment. You shivered as a chill ran through your whole body, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You pulled your body close to his, settling your head where his neck and shoulder met.

"Maybe the window is open," you heard him say.

"You know I always close the windows all over the flat before I go to bed."

"Okay, then we'd better figure out a way to get you warm."

As he finished speaking, the man moved, lowering himself from his position until his head was at the same level as yours. His eyes smiled at you as your teeth unconsciously flickered from the cold your body felt. His mouth also stretched into a smile, one of the many smiles you had learned to love. It was a very homely smile. The kind of smile that only you could see, that only you could see, that only you could see. It was a very domestic smile. It was the smile.

"Do you want me to get the other sheet?"

"No," you answered quickly. "I'm fine. We can proceed."

James let out a laugh. His eyes grew small from the flex of his cheeks as he laughed. You saw every flex and line of his face and it was like a balm to your mind.

It wasn't long before the man, in the midst of his smile and that feeling of ecstasy, brought his face close to yours and kissed you as if he hadn't kissed you in years.

Kissing James was like touching heaven. It was like being at peace after years of constant war. It was a great, vast, calm ocean. It was the absolute silence of tranquillity. It was like a great rest after years and years of travel. With his kisses you could begin to believe that you would never be alone again. With his kisses you didn't feel alone. With his kisses you believed it was possible to never be alone again. With his kisses you lost the fear of accepting him unconditionally in your life.

With his kisses, you lost the fear of loving him.

You loved the way he cradled the side of your face when he kissed you, every time, without fail. You loved the way he would start slow, soft, so tender, then fill you with passion and control your mouth without weariness or fatigue. You loved the way he then moved his hands all over your waist to the curve of your buttocks, as if he was admiring every millimetre of your skin through his touch. You loved the way he made love to you afterwards, sometimes so subtle and sometimes so out of control.

To have James was to have the best of everything at the same time.

"Are you getting up early tomorrow?" James asked as he pulled away from you. When you saw his eyes, his pupils were dilated and his breathing resembled yours: quickened and eager.

"No."

"Good."

He kissed you hard.

"Because you're not leaving this bed until Sunday."

4

James had begun to accept occasional missions that Fury gave him. You never agreed. No matter when or where they asked you, you would never have agreed to it. But clearly you couldn't just keep him in the flat until the idea was out of his head. You had thought about it a few times, but… no.

You tried to adjust to the fact that he wouldn't be around as much as before, but it was very difficult. It felt as if you had been given the most delicious candy in the whole world, left to treasure it, to savour it a little at a time, to get used to having it next to you, only to have it ripped away from you without warning, totally unprepared, leaving you to realise that everything was really out of your control. You didn't have the candy in your domain, you had been allowed to have the candy and then it was taken away from you.

"Try to concentrate," you heard Vanessa's voice.

You looked up to find her watching you from the roof of the building across the street. You felt a strong desire to rip the communicator from your ear and stomp it to dust with your boot. It was strange. It was a feeling of constant anger that you didn't know how to control. You were constantly angry except when James came to the flat.

"I'm focused."

"You better be," Tommy spoke up, "because my life depends on it."

"You shut your mouth and focus on not losing sight of the target."

"Vanessa, remind me why I agreed to do this."

"Because you're a great friend who supports absolutely everything we do."

Friend. At what point did you start to consider someone a friend? James was your friend. You thought you considered him that. Your partner. Your friend. James was your boyfriend.

"And you're totally unconditional to us."

A friend is unconditional. James is your friend. He's your partner. Friend. James is unconditional to you?

"I have to start working on my boundaries."

"No, our friend needs to start working on her temper. She doesn't get the required amount of sex a day and she's already starting to freak out."

You frowned.

"So you consider your friend's problems to boil down to sex alone?" you snapped at Vanessa, not avoiding the sour tone with which your words came out. You couldn't help but take it personally. Was that being an unconditional friend? Or being a friend?

"No," she replied quickly, "You know I didn't mean it that way. I was joking."

You hummed a nod, downplaying the words. Playing it all down. Because it didn't really matter, it was so silly to get angry about it. And it was very strange for you to get angry about it. You didn't even used to have relationships close enough to allow yourself to get angry about something they said about you. That was the big example of why you didn't do it.

"The target is moving. He's heading for the nest," Tommy spoke again, his serene tone bringing you back to the topic that was truly important. "Do you see him, Vanessa?"

"Got it."

"Good. Just move into the room towards… Wow, who's that? Who the hell's in there?"

"Damn," Vanessa mumbled.

"Wait a minute."

"We can't wait that long."

"I know," Tommy exclaimed, and from his exasperated tone you could imagine how he was running his hands through his hair repeatedly.

"What the hell do we do, Thomas?"

"I told you to wait!"

"We can't wait, dammit!"

"Wait."

"Thomas, I'm going to-"

"Hold on."

You peered through your binoculars. The large panes of glass surrounding the flat where the target was located didn't let you see much inside. The room the man was in was not as well lit, but you had gone in well prepared.

Finally you could see what the others were seeing. The man had entered the room he was supposed to enter, but there was another man in there with him. And, as far as you could see, they had made themselves comfortable. It didn't look like the other man was going to leave any time soon.

"Let's do it," you spoke, breaking the silence, giving voice to the only option they had that neither of the other two wanted to say.

"Are you insane?" Tommy exclaimed through his teeth.

"We don't have a choice. We declare it a red zone and end the mission."

"We don't even know who that man is," Vanessa interjected, her voice unsteady as she was unable to acknowledge that you were right, hesitating because you were running out of time.

"That's what the red zone is all about."

There was a moment of silence. You knew they were both considering it, the idea had been in their heads since the man entered the room, but their moral compass was much stronger than yours.

"He could be an innocent person," Tommy tried to justify not making that decision.

"How innocent can he be sitting there with the target?"

"And how do we know he's guilty?" Tommy exclaimed back.

"We're wasting more time discussing this," Vanessa spoke again, and you could breathe in her deep inhale before she said, "I think we should do it, Tommy."

The man cursed through his teeth.

You looked through the binoculars again, and both men were still inside the room.

You heard a beep on the communicator and then a steady static. Someone had changed the channel.

"I'm relieving myself as mission leader. You're in charge," it was Tommy.

"What?"

"I can't do this."

"Thomas…"

"I can't make this decision. Just… just do it."

You heard the beeping again and then it was Vanessa saying, "Thomas, what the hell are we going to do?"

"Vanessa, aim for the target," you ordered as you began to open the case next to you, just in case a situation like that arose.

"What?"

"This mission has been declared a red zone. We're going to proceed according to protocol."

The woman didn't speak again.

Nor did she say anything when you had climbed down from the rooftops and found yourselves in an alleyway in the middle of the buildings. You were waiting for Thomas, your guns already stowed in the van.

"He relieved himself," Vanessa spoke after a while, and though it sounded like she wanted to ask a question, it sounded like a statement.

"Yes."

Vanessa shook her head in an affirmative gesture. She didn't say anything else. She leaned against the concrete wall with a blank stare.

Your mobile phone rang inside the van.

"Is that Thomas?" your companion asked.

You moved closer to look at the device's screen.

James.

"No."

You took the mobile phone and moved away from the woman's figure, further down the alley. Your heart was racing, it was out of control. You had been waiting for that call for days. You had spent sleepless nights waiting for one measly message. You had taken hundreds of missions just so you wouldn't have to endure sleeping in a bed alone. You felt like your body had been frozen until that moment, until that call, and finally….

"James? Are you here yet?"

A woman called your name on the other end of the line.

"Bucky arrived a couple of hours ago."

Your feet stopped walking.

"And the mission went well?"

Silence.

A beeping and constant muttering was all that answered you on the line.

"Is James okay?"

"He's stable. He suffered some injuries. We lost communication with him in the last few days and we thought that…"

You couldn't quite remember when you had arrived at the old Avengers Complex. Your body moved automatically and your vision was so blurred that you had no idea how you could get through the crowd without bumping into someone. It was all very strange. You spent months convincing yourself that it would never happen again. Ever since James accepted those damn missions, you spent weeks trying to convince yourself that nothing would ever go wrong. That his kisses would always be there. His reunion kisses were the best, they were a wellspring of calm that washed away all the anxiety that consumed you alive during the days when you couldn't hear from him.

You had already made up your mind that it would never happen again. He promised you that it wouldn't happen, that you wouldn't have to relive that heartbreaking feeling one more time.

And he broke it.

You wanted to be relieved to see him. You wanted to be happy to know he was alive. Bruised, but alive. You wanted to hold him, to stay with him and never let him go again. But you just stood there in front of his stretcher. And he didn't try to make you come closer either. He saw it in your eyes, you knew it. He knew it.

Seeing him on that gurney made you angry. It aroused your anger that this man had broken the promise he sealed with so many kisses. You felt so much disappointment that your chest had become a bottomless void of a feeling of impersonality. You didn't want to be there. You didn't want to go through it. You preferred to think that you could overlook it. You should overlook it. Why didn't you overlook it? You could live in ignorance, pretend to be the perfect girlfriend. Everything could be easier for both of you, for you, if you just ignored all those feelings and took this situation as a normal person would.

But your knees gave way to your tears and crashed to the floor. From the corner of the room, you could see your body shake in uncontrollable weeping. You didn't know why it hurt so much, if he was alive. You didn't know the reason for the agonising pain, if he was there. And yet, your face contracted in incalculable pain. It was as if he had died on that stretcher. It was as if you had been called to come and acknowledge his corpse.

And you knew James knew, because he hadn't said anything since you arrived. He had done nothing but watch you.

There, from the corner of the room, you could see him crying with you.

He knew.

You knew it.

5

The mission was simple.

Infiltrate, seduce, accompany, lull, kill.

But simple doesn't always end easy.

Since James had returned to the flat, he had vowed never to go out on any mission again, under any circumstances. And, indeed, he was keeping that promise. He was spending as much time at home as before.

But you weren't.

Every time James tried to talk to you about that mission where he might have died, you went into a kind of shell where you shut yourself off from all communication and fled from that place to one where you felt more at ease. More in control.

You got so tired of running away that you decided to start investing that time in something that would actually pay off. You started accepting missions with Thomas more often than before.

You knew James was trying to understand you, he was trying as hard and as willing as he could. Sometimes you would arrive and there would be dinner for you in the fridge or in the microwave. Sometimes you'd see your clothes piled in a corner of the yard suddenly neatly folded and smelling decent. Sometimes you'd walk into the bedroom and find little presents on top of the nightstand, right next to your side of the bed.

You knew James was trying.

But you also knew he was getting tired.

Weeks passed since you first came in and he was waiting for you sitting on the couch. It was a very hectic night, with too many questions and not enough answers. Sometimes you arrived and the flat was lonely. Sometimes you arrived and there was no food. Sometimes you arrived and there was only screaming.

But it was easier that way. You'd already felt what it was like to almost lose him, you'd already experienced that overwhelming emotion that had been with you so much in the past, and you knew, beforehand, that if it happened with James, there was no way you'd get out of it alive, so it was easier this way.

So it was easier that way. He'd walk away on his own, you'd forget about him, and you wouldn't have to suffer if he ever died.

Die.

James would die one day.

But not a day when he was with you.

So yes, you did spend a lot of time away from home.

Maybe you really should have thought twice before deciding that this was the best option.

You knew you dreaded James' death, and the loneliness that followed his passing.

But you had no idea how panicked you would be at the thought of your own death, after meeting him.

Because you would forget him, and that would be fairly easy for you, but he wouldn't forget you. And he would suffer, much more than he was suffering since you didn't come home.

"What the hell happened?" you remembered hearing a voice.

You couldn't be too aware of your surroundings lately.

"It was a simple mission," you heard another male voice.

"It was supposed to go well. She was supposed to call us if things got complicated."

You remembered little of being in the hospital.

You remembered a lot of James sitting in an armchair next to your gurney.

You remembered a lot of his silence.

You also remembered when, some days, you were awakened by his cries and had to pretend to be asleep so as not to interfere with his suffering. Because, ever since that accident happened, ever since you could remember what happened after that, James had become wary of his feelings. He wasn't as expressive as he used to be. And you didn't have the slightest idea what to do.

You couldn't believe that before you could get to the point where you could tell how each other was doing just by listening to each other's breathing, and after that you couldn't even meet each other's eyes by accident.

You were two strangers again.

You were losing him. You knew it. Every day that you went without doing something, without talking to him, without showing a hint of remorse for what you'd done, was a day closer to being completely alone again.

And you didn't even show it, but it was painful. Seeing him shut down like that, seeing him lose the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you, realising that he lost the will to try… knowing that you took away his will… it was all too much.

Really, you never thought things would get this bad.

"What are you doing?"

You didn't think they had gotten this bad, until one day you came to the flat and saw a suitcase in the room full of his clothes.

"I'm tired."

Those were the first words he'd spoken to you in days.

"And I don't have to put up with this anymore. So I'm leaving."

You knew it was going to happen, but for him to say it like that…

"You're leaving?"

James turned to look at you. His icy expression paralysed you.

"Are you still surprised?" he blurted out gruffly, and continued packing his clothes.

You just stood there in the doorframe, watching him move as fast as if he had a coal-fired engine in his chest. As if he couldn't wait for the moment when he could finally get out of there.

"Really…" he spoke suddenly, "You've really gone weeks, weeks, without speaking to me no matter how many times I've tried to talk to you, and you decide to do it now just because you're watching me leave? That's what I needed to do to get you to react?"

You didn't answer, you just watched him, your mind blank. He was angry. Irate, rather. And you knew he was absolutely right, but you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't do anything about it because things were going your way. If James went away, if he went away hating you, he wouldn't suffer in the future when you died and you could forget him in peace. That was the best thing. The only good thing you could do for him: keep him away from you.

"Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"

Yes, you do.

"No."

"No?" he repeated incredulously. "I know I made a mistake. I made a mistake in accepting those missions. I told you, I did it countless times. And yet, all those countless times you chose to turn your back on me."

The man watched you, his eyes filled with pent-up emotions that he finally allowed to overflow.

"I tried to understand you. I really did. I gave you your space. I tried to do whatever you needed because I knew it was hard for you, but it was like… trying to water a cactus daily. Everything I did seemed to have the opposite effect."

You're right. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, I was overcome with fear and panic. I got carried away. Please don't go.

"You didn't even give yourself a chance to listen to me. Not once. Do you have any idea how all that made me feel?"

Yes, you must have felt very lonely. Abandoned. Despised by me. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let it all go so far.

"Do you want me to call a taxi?"

Of all the things you longed to say, that was the only thing your mind allowed to come out of your mouth.

You saw him sketch the sternest look of disbelief you'd ever seen. But you also saw pain, extreme pain at the rejection of your words.

"Are you fucking kidding me? How can you be so cynical?" James exclaimed, his face contorted in anger and helplessness. You cringed a little at the shout but didn't move away from him as he came striding towards you in long strides. "Tell me, did you even care about me? At any point in this… relationship, was anything you gave me real?"

You half-opened your lips to answer, but could not formulate the sentences you knew would comfort his heart.

Yes, absolutely everything was real, all my love and suffering was real.

James walked away, and you didn't know if it was possible that his face could look even more downcast.

Your hands were shaking with helplessness. He was still there. You could still try to save him. Why didn't you? Why? Why? Why?

"How can you be so fucking expressionless? How can you not be in pain… for this? How?"

"You're going to be fine," the words escaped your mouth before your mind could process it.

The man turned to look at you.

"You really are…" he raised his hand and gripped it tightly, swallowing his words and turning back towards the wardrobe to start throwing his things into the suitcase.

Suddenly, he let out a scream. And then a cry.

"I swear, if you'd just tell me no, I'd stay."

He looked at you. His tear-filled eyes met yours and you knew that would be an image that would haunt you to death.

"I would stay… I really would, but… I still can't believe you are so foolish. The first thing you did when you left that hospital was to go back to another mission. How could you care so little about your life? How could you care any less that I care about your life?"

I care about my life even more since you're in it. Don't go.

"It's just work," is what you replied.

"No, no, no…" James hummed with laughter, but his face lacked grace. "I'm definitely not going to stand here just watching you risk your life because you're incapable of expressing your feelings. I'm not worth being put through this."

"It's my life, James."

"But you made me part of your life! I'm here! We're supposed to share our lives together. Why is it only about you now?"

"It's supposed to be my choices…"

"But why can't I be a part of them?" James exclaimed loudly. Your mind clouded over, and even though all you wanted to do was apologise from there until the end of time, you had too much pent up anger because of that very inability to say what you truly thought.

You're right, I am unable to express my feelings. I am sorry. Don't go away.

"You're talking about my fucking life! Why do you want to be in control of all the shit I do now? Fuck you!"

"I'm not trying to control anything, goddamn it! I just need to know…"

"No! You don't need to know anything. You don't need to know anything about me. We're here and you're packing your bag. You have no right to know anything."

James let out a snort.

"We're here and you still can't talk to me. I can't believe how bloody insane you've become."

"Just go."

Don't go.

"This is bullshit."

James finished throwing all of his clothes into the suitcase. You watched his every move, every flex of his body, every grimace on his face, every flick of his hair, how his fingers clutched at the things he took, how his scowl didn't lessen one bit. You watched and watched. It was all you could do.

You leaned against the doorframe and watched him take his anger and pain out on his clothes and his suitcase. It gave you a strange kind of feeling to see him like that, something that felt mildly familiar but you couldn't put a name to it. You wanted to turn things back. If you could turn back time you would, and every single thing that went wrong you would fix.

But would you really? Did the problem really go back to when things with James started to go wrong? The problem was you. You were the problem. You couldn't talk, you could only think, you could only repress, you could only suffer. Only you, you and you. Only you because you were alone, because you had always been alone and there was no reason to believe that could change. James lied to you, that was the reason he was leaving and you had no reason to stop him. He had to go. If he didn't want to go through that, he shouldn't have lied in the first place. If he didn't want to go through that, he shouldn't have asked you out in the first place. He shouldn't have met you. He shouldn't have spent time with you. You shouldn't have stopped him.

Stop him.

You should stop him.

James closed the suitcase.

"I did too much for this relationship. I gave up too much for both of us. I gave up everything I was for this relationship. I gave up too much for you and you know it!"

You narrowed your eyes and began to approach him in rapid strides. He towered over you by several inches, and there was a time when you loved that, but now you hated that he could see you that way. He had always seen you that way. So small…

"You say that as if I forced you. I never asked you to give up your life for me!"

"Exactly, that's the damn problem! You've never asked me to do anything, I've just done all this stuff on my own trying to cope with a relationship that's become… one-sided!"

You walked away.

"Just… leave now."

Please leave before I tie you to this flat and never let you leave again.

He wanted to say something else. You knew he wanted to say something else. It was obvious he hadn't said half the things he wanted to say. But he didn't.

He took his suitcase and left.

He really left.

He walked past you, not caring that the brush of his shoulder against yours almost made you fall. He passed you and walked straight to the exit, slamming the door hard on his way out.

He was gone. He was gone. He was finally gone. He was really gone.

Now you were alone. You were alone again. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? You'd done a lot of things in the last few months to make him go away, and he was finally gone… but then why weren't you satisfied?

Why did you want to run after him? Why did you want to go and kiss him? Why did you want to stop him and beg him to forgive you?

Who did he think he was to deserve that after what he had done?

But… what had he done?

No.

What had you done?

[capitano-marina]

I really liked your thoughts about this season. I’m usually a bit more of a casual fan but I ended up really enjoying this season and even trying to go a bit deeper in the fandom and fic. One thing I found interesting is that I see a lot of talk about how the show sees Carina as just Maya’s wife and of course I agree but oddly enough for a soapy show about firefighters with way too many characters I think sometimes they do make an effort and I appreciate it, all those pregnant women everywhere lol (Maybe because I remembered how she was treated in greys so any little effort makes me happy)

What made me really sad was that when I got into this ship I saw that the whole Carina is just Maya’s wife is true for so much of the fandom. I don’t buy that what do you expect when Maya is so much more important on the show because I’ve been in fandom for way too long and I have ships where one character is the main character and the other is very much supporting and there is plenty of focus on that one character. In fact they are like the fandom’s fave with much less backstory than Carina.

Most shippers just love Maya much more, they connect with her, they feel for her, they are more attracted to her, idk, they love Carina as Maya’s wife and long as she is perfect, kind, understanding and super in love with their fave. And it’s absolutely fine, you love who you love, who knows what makes us feel fanish about a character or a ship but for someone who loves both of them but Carina a bit more it’s very disappointing to keep looking for fic/content/discussion somewhat centered on Carina and not finding much of it.

I think about the few moments this season where Carina was allowed to think about her own feelings and be angry like in the roof, or leaving Maya, or going out for drinks or even a stupidly written “then” instead of “and” and it’s “how dare terrible Carina do that to poor Maya, what about her trauma? Her pain? There better be fic and meta on how Carina should feel horrible and go beg forgiveness for being awful” Don’t worry, it will! So yes I can deal with the show treating Carina as less important but when it’s fandom it just makes everything so much less fun to me.

But it’s a great ship and they are fantastic actors! They truly elevate everything about these characters and relationship and it’s lovely to see on the screen.

Oh wow anon went all in….

Thank you for liking my all over the place thoughts, you are very blessed to just be a casual fan tho trust me going deep isn’t good if you don’t find the right people to share it with.

About Carina situation, we all know it’s a firefighter show but this doesn’t mean they can’t give her enough because even Grey’s Anatomy was and still treating her bad, making Jo switch specialists just so they can show more OB without actually showing Carina which is sad, if they can make Room for some political/Mayor storyline they sure can make something for Carina.

Sadly some people do have a different attitude towards Carina, even tho they won't notice or admit it..and I'm pretty sure, from the little we saw, that if they ever showed her as flawed or doing something wrong, it's gonna be chaos, Cause they do see her as perfect (which she is, but you know what I mean) and not as a human most of the time, and i am the biggest Maya Bishop fan you will ever find but when something is wrong it’s wrong and anyone that took sides in this whole drama of s6 is simply not a true shipper of them, they only love the idea of Maya being with Carina and vice versa only when one of them does something right they are all in but with just one little mistake by one of them they hate that character.

I mean she got hated on because she expressed her fears or even didn't trust Maya right away..and no matter how bad I love Maya, Carina's still her own person and her feelings are valid just as much as Maya’s feelings.

And people will see themselves (some already do) in Carina if we see her side of the story more often, they wasted the clinic storyline on Jack getting close to Carina (the whole spermgate storyline of s5), there was potential with Carina working with Ben in the PRT if it wasn’t shut down because of Bob.

Was so happy to be away from twitter during the whole “and” “then” drama because i had enough of this fandom and it’s drama.

As for Danielle and Stefania they are the absolute best and they have ruined watching shows for me because there will never be anyone like them that care this much about the ship and the fans wish the show people understood what they have in their hand is Gold and all the shows look for it but hardly find it.

[buttercream-squad-imagines]

Little Red Dress

Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Callux x sister!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: Swearing, some violence, maybe a few spelling mistakes Request: Idk if this is a request but like a secret relationship with Harry that you hide and you like calluxs sister or something like that and when he finds out he gets really mad or something

How you had gotten here you didn't know. It was a question you had continually asked yourself for the last five or so months. You hadn't long moved to London, where your older brother Callum lived. You had wanted to be closer to him, not that you were far anyway but you were very closer to your brother.

There were quite a few years between you and the older boy, you being born when the latter was 7 years old. Now at the ages of 22 and 29, the two could not be more inseparable. Despite having different fathers - both of whom hadn't stuck around long enough for the pair to remember them - you and Cal were like peas in a pod. With no father figure for you to look up to, you naturally clung to the boy growing up, and Cal being the only male in the house, quickly took on the protector figure for both you and your mum.

As awful as you felt leaving your mum back at home, you had been missing your brother desperately since he had moved to London so long ago, having spent the latter majority of your school years without him. Now after graduating from university, you finally felt free enough to move to the city with your brother and make your own way in life.

That was nearing a year ago, which led you to now. The situation that you were currently in, sneaking around with one of your brother's best friends.

You had met Harry before you could even have been introduced by Cal in one of the most cliche ways ever. Being the clumsy git he is, he had bumped into you in the hallway of your new apartment building and had spilled the contents of the box you were carrying all over the hardwood floor. Awkwardly the man had tried to pick up the contents in a hurry, spitting out apologies to you and once again dropping things from his arms in an attempt to put them back into the box. It was something you had found very endearing and is a quality of his that you adore.

In an attempt to apologise for both spilling the box full of stuff and then dropping the contents whilst trying to pick them back up, Harry had offered to help you bring up the rest of your boxes. It was there that you both ran into your brother, who was visibly confused as to how his cumbersome best friend was talking to his baby sister like they had known each other for years.

Cal would never actually admit it to you but witnessing that interacting had a large pit forming at the bottom of his stomach. He knew how Harry could be and knew from the look in his eye that he had quickly found an attraction in you.

Any spark found in Harry's eyes quickly distinguished when he learned of your relation to Cal, knowing how protective the older boy could be of his baby sister, but nothing could stop the fluttering feeling the boy got when he was around you. Not even Cal's warnings against dating his sister. Warnings that his other friends got, to his relief, all of which assured Cal that his sister was out of bounds. Pleased with the responses, Cal never had a second thought, something you were glad for.

Something you weren't glad for however, was the feeling of uneasiness you got whenever you were with Harry. You almost felt guilty for being with him, even more so for keeping it from your brother.

Your boyfriend of five months, however, was quick to chase away that feeling with his affection. You got to see another side to the boy that many of the people in his life never got to witness. It gave you a feeling of euphoria knowing that you were the object of Harry's affections, and affectionate he was.

When the two of you got to spend time at your apartment, the boy could not remove himself from you. Whether he was lying in bed editing a video, cuddled into your side, or sprawled out on the settee with his head nestled in your lap, he always had to have some body part touching you. His hand always found yours when he was particularly anxious, something that happened quite regularly, which was one of the traits you found most endearing. It warmed your heart to know that you were able to calm him down.

Something you did a lot was steal Harry's clothing. There was just something about those jumpers, especially the sidemen merch, that was just so comfortable. Even after insisting on getting you some sidemen clothing of your own, so he could continue to make use of his own wardrobe, you still wore his. You had told him very shyly that you liked wearing his clothes because they smelled like him, and it brought you comfort when he was away visiting his own family.

Harry thought he might have broken down then and there. Not that he would say it out loud, he secretly loved it when you wore his clothes but knowing that you would wear them when you missed him? He felt like he was on cloud nine.

Which is how you found yourself right now, snuggled on your sofa, drowning in Harry's jumper and a fleece blanket, watching the TV. Harry had been away visiting his family over the new year, and wasn't due back until the following day but you missed him dearly. Your phone had been forgotten in your bedroom, your only distraction was reruns of Grey's Anatomy, a show you had already watched religiously.

You hadn't realised how much time had passed as you easily lost track of time when you got into a show. You also hadn't realised that your brother had been trying to get hold of your for over an hour. Which is why you were startled when you heard the click of the lock turning.

"Y/N?" The sound of your brother's voice filled the small apartment. "Are you in here?"

"On the sofa." You called back with a yawn. He could easily hear the drowsiness in your voice, he would put his money on you falling asleep within the next hour.

"You didn't answer my calls or texts, I was worried." He scolded gently.

"I left it in my room to charge, sorry for worrying you." You stretched causing the blanket that covered you to drop to your lap.

"Whose? Whose jumper is that?" Cal inquired, suspicion laced in his tone.

"Oh, is it not yours?" You asked, trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's jumper adorned your body and was currently the reason that you were about to be outed.

"No. You know that's not my jumper Y/N. It's too small to be mine." You winced at the hardness in his voice.

"I must've picked it up thinking it was yours. Oops." You tried to play it off coolly, and your brother seemed to be coming around to the idea that it was just a misunderstanding. Thank God, you screamed internally.

"Right." He sprawled himself out next to you and let out a groan when he noticed what you were watching. "Really? Grey's Anatomy? You know I've experienced enough hospitals in my life without having to watch this garbage."

"How dare you?" You gasped playfully, whacking the older man on the arm. "I'm not turning it off, so either accept it or leave."

"Fine."

A week later, Cal was visiting Freezy and Harry's apartment to hang out with the boys. You were meant to be coming soon though as you and Cal were going out for lunch. Cal was sprawled on the sofa and Harry was on another, whilst Freezy was in the bathroom. Cal's suspicions once again peaked as he noticed Harry wearing the jumper you were wearing just a week ago.

"I'm sure that's the jumper Y/N was wearing last week." He muttered loud enough for the younger boy to hear.

"Is it? She must've picked it up by accident and thought it was yours." Harry spoke coolly although his stomach felt like it was doing backflips.

"Hmm. That's what she said." He grumbled. The two fell back into a comfortable silence scrolling through their phones, waiting for Freezy to arrive back from the bathroom.

"Harry, I'm sure you've got some secret girlfriend you're hiding from us or something." The loud voice of Freezy echoed through the apartment.

"What?" The boy in question stumbled over his words. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, if I had to guess, I wouldn't put you down as the type of person who used Sunkissed raspberry shampoo and conditioner." He cackled.

"So, what if I did?" Harry's heart was racing, trying to play the situation off. Even if the boys found out he was seeing someone, they still wouldn't know who. That's what he was trying to tell himself anyway.

"Right, so you're telling me this dress from the washing basket is yours too?"

Harry's face dropped as Freezy held up the little red dress that you had thrown in the washing basket after a night out. A night out with your brother and his friends.

"What the fuck Harry?!" Cal seethed, gripping him by the collar of his jumper and shoving him into the wall. "My fucking sister!"

"Oh." Was the only thing that come out of Freezy's mouth once he had realised the severity of the situation. Your brother on the other hand was seeing red. What they hadn't heard was you entering the flat, having heard the shouting from the hallway. Cal raised his fist, bringing it to meet the side of Harry's face, who hadn't said a word yet.

"What the hell Cal?!" You exclaimed, marching over and pushing him away from your boyfriend.

"When were you going to tell me?" He asked you through gritted teeth.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You honestly had no idea what was happening right now, but if you had to make a guess, you'd put your money on Cal having found out about your relationship. You could count on one hand how many times you had seen your brother as angry as this. Not ever had it been directed at you though.

"Stop lying Y/N!" He roared making you cower into Harry behind you and let out a small whimper. "Come on, we're leaving."

"No!" Your brother grabbed the top of your arm and began pulling you away. You tried to shrug his hand from your arm, but he held on tightly. "I'm not leaving."

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the apartment.

"Hey." Harry whispered softly, touching your arm gently.

"I'll just leave you two." Freezy muttered awkwardly, leaving to go to his room. Harry pulled you into his chest and wiped away the tears you hadn't realised had fallen.

"It's okay." He assured you. "It'll be okay."

[moon-in-daylight]

heyy! love your fics! i've seen you take requests so i'm testing my luck here. can we please get a dhawan!master x reader fic where reader is forced to pilot the tardis (like reason w her or link with her telepathically idk) to get the master to a hospital as he's passed out and kinda dying? like some angsty action that turns out fine in the end, please? thank you

Dispensable / Dhawan!Master x reader

Summary: You’ve always felt safe by The Master’s side, but when he endangers himself to save your life, you start wondering if his efforts to protect you are really worth it. Especially now that his life depends on you learning how to pilot a TARDIS.

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Blood, weapons, injuries, insecure!reader, a little angst maybe. 

A/N: Anon, I’m sorry this took me so long. I’ve just been out of inspiration lately and this is what came out after a month of writing. I hope you still like it though 💖

It wasn’t unusual for The Master’s plans to go terribly wrong sometimes, as it wasn’t unusual that you regularly got hurt in the middle of your adventures as a consequence.

Luckily, it was nothing too serious most of the times. Maybe you would get some scratches while running on the quiet days, some scars on the most serious days when you had to face some extremely angry alien civilization… And, in the worst scenarios, you had almost encountered your reaper face to face.

It was inevitable to suffer some unfortunate accidents while travelling inside the TARDIS. You knew that from the very start, that your least developed anatomy would barely be able to follow a Time Lord’s way of living, especially one’s with so much love for chaos and destruction. You were well aware that while you travelled with The Master death would always be keeping an eye on you. Yet, you gladly took the risks that staying in his ship entailed.

From the first moment you had stepped a foot inside that console room, you had known there would never be a way of turning back to your old life. Not after seeing the things, places and eras he could show you with the simple pull of a lever. At first, the main reason you stayed with him was the time travelling.

Though it was extremely dangerous and you feared The Master could abandon anytime and anywhere when he got bored of you, you decided to endure his rage filled words about your species and his several rules on how you should behave to try and get him to show you the stars. He wasn’t an easy person to deal with, but you had grown to both love and deal with him, and you liked to think he had done the same with you too.

After more than a year aboard of his ship, you trusted him almost blindly, confident that he would do anything he could possibly do to try and get you uninjured of the deadly situations you faced daily.

He was way more gentle and caring now than he was when you first met him, though that was something he would never admit out loud to you. But his change of behavior was evident. You noticed it by the little thing. By the way he always kept an eye on you when you were outside of the TARDIS, on how he threatened anyone that seemed barely interested in hurting you… He almost seemed a different person now. He even took care of your wounds when he couldn’t prevent you from getting hurt, and making sure you got the fastest recovery possible instead of leaving you to deal with them on your own.

You supposed he had gotten used to having a ‘human pet’, and that he took the trouble of taking care of you mainly because he didn’t want to have to take another human in his TARDIS to replace you if you were ever missing. Too much inconvenience to have to take another pet now that he had finally grown somewhat comfortable with your presence… Either way, and despite the many risks you faced time and time again, you always felt save by his side knowing that he wouldn’t let you die that easily.

While being by his side, you barely could remember what fear felt like.

That was, of course, until you found yourself in the worst situation you could have pictured.

The day had started as any other, with The Master taking you to New Earth in the middle of the First New World War, following your request of wanting to know more about the future of your species. The Master had told you repeatedly that humanity’s history was not worth seeing, that they were little more than amoebas. But your curious self had insisted him so many times about wanting to see your future that he had eventually given in.

You didn’t exactly liked what you saw there. The cruelty, the hatred that your own race processed against their own… The senseless death and unnecessary barbarism between those of their own blood… The Master had warned you that it wouldn’t be pretty, but considering the fact you were already used to face every possible form of chaos by his side, you had been sure that nothing he could show you could be worse than the damage you had already seen him cause to distant planets and civilizations.

Now that you ran for your life in the middle of an open battlefield, hand in hand with The Master as he tried to guide you to the safety of his TARDIS under a never-ending rain of bullets, you realized your mistake. You had never imagined a war could be so bloodthirsty, so atrocious… The Master hadn’t said it, but you were sure he was jealous of the destruction and despair caused by your species.

The two sides of the conflict were ready to do anything to get even the slightest advantage over their enemies, and of course, The Master had decided he should turn such horrible situation in his favor. He had manipulated both, the leader of the resistance and the supreme general of the new Earth’s forces, to make them believe the other would throw an offensive in the middle of the night. That way, while everyone fought to death in the middle of the battlefield, you and him could sneak into each side’s bases and steal whatever could be useful or valuable.

The Master’s plan was executing itself perfectly, to the point where it was all being too good to be true. Everyone had seemed to believe him and, though you were suspicious that things were never that easy with him, he appealed to your specie’s stupidity to justify the fact that no major complications had met your little scam. If everything went as he had planned, you would be in and out of each fortress in barely ten minutes, with your pockets full and the armory of the TARDIS completely renewed with new nuclear weapons. But just when the both of you were emptying the armory of the rebel band, two guards caught you red-handed.

Apparently, before indulging their soldiers into a bloodshed battle that would likely finish all live on the planet, the leaders of each side had decided to make things the diplomatic way. And for the first time in a very long time, they had decided to unite forces against a common enemy, you and The Master. You would’ve been proud of them, had your life not been in such danger.

Now, getting yours and The Master’s head was top priority to every living being in that planet, and you almost doubted you would be able to make it to his ship alive.

You had ran alongside The Master from angry crowds hundreds, maybe thousands of times now, but never before had you felt so trapped. The TARDIS was somewhere nearby, and every step you took closer to her was a sigh of relief that left your already tired lungs. Bullets and all kinds of projectile weapons were thrown in your direction, and The Master had to keep you even closer than usual to his body to prevent you from getting hurt.

When the disguised aspect of the TARDIS finally met your eye, you thought you had never felt happier in your life, but your legs were beginning to get tired and you felt yourself losing all the strength in your body, struggling to stabilize the rhythm of your breathing.

One last push, you repeated yourself internally as you forced your body to not give up, to resist until you could collapse on the safety of the TARDIS’ ground.

With every passing second, you could see your destination getting closer, but that little time felt eternal as you did your best not to lose focus and sprint those last meters for the sake of your life.

You only let go of The Master’s hand so you could extend your arms to push the TARDIS’ doors open, get inside and quickly close them after you. But the only thing your hands laid on was the ground as you tripped and fell only a few steps away from the ship.

Your heart sunk in your chest as your bad luck struck in, realizing that you didn’t have enough time to stand up from the ground before the hordes of soldiers reached you, probably killing you instantly. This time there was no way out, and you closed your eyes while you met your unavoidable fate.

This wasn’t a bad way to die, you supposed. You hadn’t lived too long, but you had lived your life to the fullest, running away through the stars with a psychopath alien and visiting places most of your kind couldn’t even dream about. You were at peace with yourself, suspecting that The Master wouldn’t be too affected by your loss and knowing that you had already lived longer than what could be expected of such a fragile being living such a dangerous life.

You were ready to let the rest of your body hit the floor and say goodbye forever, but then The Master’s hands gripped you tight from each side of your body and pushed you up and forwards, giving you the last boost you needed to reach the TARDIS’ doors.

“What are you doing?!” His angry tone reprimanded you as he positioned himself behind you to shield you from your persecutors. “Run!”

Taking The Master’s hand in yours again, you finally made it to the insides of the TARDIS, the comfort of the familiar console room greeting you as she hummed happily at your arrival. As soon as the doors closed, you threw yourself onto the Time Lord, surrounding him with your arms to pull him into a victory hug, or more a thankfulness hug for having saved your life seconds earlier.

You squeezed him tight as you let fear crawl out of your body, starting to feel safe again by his side. For a moment you had truly believed he wouldn’t turn back for you, that he would simply get inside his ship and forget about the fact you had ever existed. But now, after watching him risking his own life to save yours, you realized there wasn’t a single place in the universe where you could really be endangered if you were with him.

As your breathing calmed and you stopped hearing the throbbing of your heart buzzing in your ears, you heard him hiss slightly at the same time you felt the lower part of your torso dampening. Getting away from him, you discovered your shirt was covered in blood, and immediately, you lifted it up to find there was no wound underneath.

Looking again in The Master’s direction and finding that his belly was also covered in the thick liquid, you didn’t let him time to say anything before undoing the lower buttons of his shirt and discovering a bullet wound on the right side of his torso.

Blood was quickly coming out of it, and you were quick to tear the lower side of your shirt so you could use the fabric to press against the bullet hole and stop the bleeding. You had always seen that work in movies, but the material was soon soaked and you realized you couldn’t stop him from bleeding out when you found a second wound a few centimeters above the first one.

“You’re going to bleed to death…” Fear was starting to form in the pit of your stomach as your mind rushed trying to find a solution to the mess developing right in front of you.

“Don’t exaggerate.” He said, as if he had just gotten an insignificant scratch. “I will be fine.”

“No.” You shook your head, taking some piece of clothing you had left in the room earlier and placing it over his belly in hopes it would do something more than the piece of fabric you had used earlier. That didn’t seem to stop the bleeding either and you started to become more and more desperate. “You need to regenerate.”

The Master frowned at you, and then you realized the weak state in which he was. In normal situations, he would have look way more threatening and powerful with the simple act of just lying his eyes on you. Now, looking at the titanic effort he put in simply trying to stay awake was enough for you to pity him.

When you thought of The Master, many adjectives came to your mind, but pity had never before been a word you would’ve use him to describe him.

“I’m not going to regenerate for something so stupid.” He immediately refused, and you cursed him internally as you guided him to the nearest couch, hand still pressing on the side of his body as you helped him sit down as comfortably as possible.

“You’re dying.” You tried to reason with him, but his stubbornness was too much to handle at the moment. He didn’t say a thing as he let the weight of his body collapse on the piece of furniture, and you watched him in desperation. “Please, just do the goddamn thing!”

You pressed the fabric in your hands harder against his wounds, wishing that he would listen to you for once in his life. When you got no answer from him, you lifted your stare to his face again, realizing he had lost consciousness.

“No, no, no, no...” You muttered as you shook his body slightly, trying to get him to wake up. “Wake up, come on. Just wake up and regenerate!”

Seeing that he wouldn’t respond, you immediately decided to check for his heartbeat. Or more correctly, heartbeats. Placing two fingers on the side of his neck, you found that the rhythm of his two hearts was starting to get very similar to the one your single heart made, and then you realized just in how much danger he was.

You were no doctor, but he had already lost a lot of blood. If you did nothing, you feared he could be dead in less than a few hours.

You had been under The Master’s care and protection for so long that now that you were the one that had to look after him, you felt completely helpless. How were you supposed to help him? All you knew about Time Lord’s biology was that they could regenerate when in life or death situations, and he had refused to do it, so you were out of ideas.

“Please, help me…” You felt your eyes watering as you cupped his face in between your hands, shaking it from side to side slightly in yet another attempt to bring him back in himself and get him to help you save him.

You didn’t get any response from him, but you heard the TARDIS humming intensely at you. And you felt relieved to at least have received a single answer to your plea, even if it was by some piece of seemingly inanimate, alien technology. Turning your head to the center of the room, you watched the console lights flicker as she indicated you to get closer to the controls of the ship. Understanding what she wanted you to do, you looked at The Master one last time.

“I’ll never forgive you if you dare to die on me.”

He looked as calmed as you had ever seen him, eyes closed and facial expressions completely relaxed. Your last thought while looking at him before rushing to the controls, was that you wished you could see that serenity in him more often, in better situations that the one taking place now of course.

Placing yourself before the buttons and levers of the console, you found yourself completely lost. You had seen The Master piloting the TARDIS billions of times, but looking down at the controls you couldn’t recall any of the movements he made while doing so… Was it really that hard to show you how to pilot the TARDIS? Hadn’t he thought it could be useful in a situation like this one? And why couldn’t you have a better memory? How could you have seen him doing so many times and not have the slightest idea of what to do?

You searched around the console in hopes of finding a piloting manual, some instructions, or at least some note handwritten by the dying Time Lord that could give you some clue on how to put the time travelling ship in motion. But when you found nothing and realized you wouldn’t even know when or where to take the ship to if you knew how to pilot it, you started to feel impotence taking over you.

The Master was dying because of you, because he had stopped to help you, a simple, useless human. And you weren’t able to do anything to help him, to make things right. You were the one dying, not him.

Feeling the lump forming in the back of your throat you wished you could turn back time and stop him from helping you get to the ship.

How ironic was that? You were inside a time travelling machine, desperate to go back in time, and you simply couldn’t. You had never felt so small and worthless in your whole life as the tears started to fall down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do…” You looked back towards The Master, his unconscious body laid on the other side of the room. Your eyes examined him with an apologetic look for a few seconds before the TARDIS’ hum called you again.

Following the sound she made, you realized she was trying to draw you attention to one specific lever of the console, one she had pointed out by illuminating it with a characteristic purple light. Assuming she was trying to guide you, you got closer to the lever and pulled it without thinking it twice, desperate to at least try something to fix the situation.

When you heard the approving hum of the TARDIS and noticed the way she illuminated a close button in the same purple light, you proceeded to push that button too, and then the next one she pointed you to. You honestly didn’t know what any of those controls were doing or if you would be able to follow her instructions well enough to get The Master somewhere safe, but you had no time to waste with doubt and second-guessing.

You rushed through the console’s controls, pulling and pressing as soon as the TARDIS indicated you what it was that you had to do next. After pulling one final lever, you noticed the ground beneath your feet tremble as the ship entered the time vortex. You looked back at The Master one last time as the ship landed in an unknown location and time.

“Is it done?” You asked her, quickly wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes seconds earlier.

She gave you yet another hum, and you supposed you would need to go outside and figure out if you had succeeded in piloting the TARDIS to the right place. When you ran outside and found yourself inside a building that seemed like what you knew as a hospital, you finally let out the breath that you had been holding.

By the time The Master woke up again, he was lying inside a hospital bed, a sharp pain on his side and a little dizziness caused by whatever substance they were putting into his IV, which he quickly took off without even acknowledging what it was. He attempted to get off the bed to try and find out in which planet he was, or how he had gotten there, but he found himself too weak to move, the stabbing pain on his side making him desist from it.

Giving up and lying his head back on the pillow again, he caught a glimpse of something that look like a bracelet on his right wrist. When he looked at it, he realized his data was printed on that bracelet:

SPECIES: Time Lord

AGE: ?

NAME: Doctor

He immediately frowned at the name of his older enemy on his own hand, and for a second he theorized about being dead and having been sent to the profundities of hell as a punishment for his numerous crimes during his extremely long existence. For a second he feared he would have to live as The Doctor for the rest of eternity.

If there was in fact something similar to hell, he was sure this was it.

Your entrance in the room interrupted his thoughts as he sighed in relief by seeing you. He let out the air too fast out of his lungs, and he couldn’t help but hiss in pain.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him after you realized he had gained consciousness back again, closing the door behind you.

“Better than ever, love.” He said with that smug smile on his face, trying to ignore the intense ache on the side of his torso.

You looked at him for a few seconds, upset that he would act as if nothing had happened. Well, he was The Master. He was an expert in being annoying, you thought. What else could you expect from him?

“I hope it’s really hurting, you thick idiot.” You spitted out, not holding yourself back as you bitterly let him know just how angry you were with him. Had you been anyone else, you wouldn’t have probably lived to tell about it “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?! I thought you were dying!”

“Dying is not something I’m very good at, as you can see.” The Master casually said with a pompous smirk on his face, one you wished you could slap off him. You simply decided to ignore his comment.

“Why didn’t you just regenerate? Do you have any idea how many trouble you would have spare me?”

“I thought you liked this face, pet.” He raised an eyebrow at you, arrogance showing all over his face as you couldn’t help but blush slightly. It was true you found him attractive, but he clearly didn’t need you to boost his already enormous ego.

“I would have rather have you alive with a different face than dead with this one.”

For barely a second you could see the façade in The Master’s eyes fall apart as you said those words. You knew he wasn’t very keen on talking about feelings, but you hoped he knew you were being serious.

“How did we arrive here?” He quickly changed the subject. “And why am I The Doctor now?”

“I brought us here. The TARDIS taught me to pilot her” You started to explain, watching the surprised look on his face as he tried to imagine you maneuvering his ship. “And well, when they asked me what your species was so they could give you the right medication, I thought I would tell them the truth, but when they asked me for your name I figured telling them they were treating one of the most dangerous criminals in all of time and space wasn’t such a great idea.”

“I would have rather you letting me die before letting anyone think I was her.” He rolled his eyes and ripped off the bracelet on his wrist, clearly annoyed by the idea of being mistaken for his former best friend.

“If you hadn’t stopped for me back then I wouldn’t have had to do it!” You pointed out in frustration, tired of him only complaining. You knew The Master would never thank you for saving his life, but those comments he made were starting to get you on your nerves. The Time Lord started at you in confusion for a few seconds, eyes glued to your face as he tried to decode what was going through your mind before forcing himself inside of it. After staying silent for several seconds, you decided to ask right away. “Why would you risk your life for me anyway?”

“You’re my pet, dear. I’m supposed to keep you safe.” He replied as if it was an obvious thing. When you had first met him, you had never thought you would hear him speak that way about a human.

“Not if it costs you your own life!”

“Did you really want me to abandon you?” He asked, tone deadly serious and eyes inspecting you carefully.

“No, but…” Sighing, you tried to find a proper way to express what was going on inside your head. “I would never want you to get hurt because of me. I’m only human, and my life is so ephemeral and fragile… Your life is way bigger and exciting than what mine could ever be, and you shouldn’t put it at risk because of me. I’m dispensable.”

While hearing your words, The Master regretted every time he had told you how inferior you were because of your ‘human condition’. He had seen you as dispensable at first, but he no longer considered you anything other than his equal, his partner in crime. The fact that you had grown to see yourself as something of less worth than him was almost as painful as the injury on his side.

“Don’t you ever say something like that again.” He warned you in what almost sound like a threatening tone. “You’re not dispensable. If you were I wouldn’t have you in my TARDIS. I did what I did, and I would do it again if I had to, love. I promised to take care of you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, no matter the cost. Is that understood?”

A little taken aback but moved by his words, you simply nodded, trying to regain composure again.

“Good, now help me get out of here.” Without giving you a second to react, he immediately attempted to get out of the mattress. You quickly rushed to his side to try and get him to lay back again.

“What are you doing? You’re still not ready to go!” You tried to convince him to stay in the hospital for a little longer, to give himself some time to fully recover. Deep down you knew everything you’d try would be useless, knowing that he would run away from that room at the first chance he got. He would probably even want to go plan his next heist right after arriving the TARDIS, as if nothing had ever happened.

“It won’t take long for the staff to discover you lied about my identity, and they’ll want some explanations.” He began to explain to you. “We need to be gone by the time they arrive.”

Closing your eyes, you realized he was right. That was one of the few inconveniences of travelling around space and time causing chaos and destruction, you couldn’t stay anywhere for too long if you didn’t want to get caught, and The Master was a wanted man in practically every corner of the universe.

“Okay, we are leaving.” The Master’s face was adorned with a pleased smile as he heard your words. “But don’t even think about getting into trouble for the next few days. You’re going to get a full recovery first. You have to promise me.”

“I promise you, pet.” He stated as he leaned onto you to use your body as support when he got up.

“Oh, and I’m piloting the TARDIS, by the way.” You added, gaining a warning look from him. “What? You are going to need a lot of rest in the next few days and I have to practice in case I have to pilot her again.”

[fate221]

Hey! Do you have any advice for people new to digital art!! I started recently but I'm having a really hard time especially with lineart and colors ;-;

Well digital art is such a huge and scary beast and it’s more than normal that you have difficulties with it. Tbh I still struggle with it a lot because I’m always afraid that i could do it better or that I should have been to choose absolutely another style for myself. Now my main struggle is a choice between more simple coloring with more sharp shadows and some kind of volume and more realistic lighting. I doubt very much now about all of this and wonder if my arts would be better and audience loved them more if I’d draw with sharp lineart and simple coloring. 

Idk if I’m the only one who thinks that lol. I think that’s mostly because you have a really large amount of possibilities in digital art. Thousands of brushes, effects, instruments - all of this use to scare and make you confused. You don’t know where to start from or what you want from your style and how it should look like. And it’s normal, especially if you only started getting used to it. And you should be ready for that it’s gonna take a while before you finally feel comfortable with your style and digital art at all. However it all depends from the person.

So I would like to write some basic tips based on my own experience and thoughts and maybe it could help someone.

Find yourself a nice software you’d feel comfortable with. I wanted to make another post about my software but it’s for another time. I would recommend SAI or Sketchbook Pro for those who start. I still love them more than Krita and photoshop tbh because of simple interface and configurations.

Find tutorials for anatomy, expressions, all that stuff. Learn color theory, because that shit is really important in good illustration. Same goes to the laws of composition, lighting etc. Youtube has a lot of this things, also you can search on Pinterest.

Probably the most important tip: Don’t try to start from some difficult kind of drawing. And go to some kind of realism. Instead try to make a lot of pics with simple lineart and coloring, it will help you to get used to the pen and brushes and feel more confident. Many artists who only start try immediately to draw some very cool difficult idea with cool lighting and volume and details (trust me I was lterally that person) but I think it’s better to make just a lot of simple colored pics probably even with lineart + solid colors + blush for example instead of one big and “detailed’. I failed with that so much.

Make studies. Make a lot of studies. Of everything - poses, faces, environment. Just try to copy screencaps from shows or cool pics on Pinterest with trying to analyze how lighting and stuff works or which instruments are better for you. Plus studies often help to understand how color theory and composition work especially when you make them from someone’s  already made pieces such as photos and movies. that’s just like in real life when you sketch smth or smb from real life, or make gestures drawings. It’s easier in digital because you can train yourself in coloring too without a need of thousands of coloring art stuff.

Make a lot of observation. Open an acc of your favourite artist. What features of their style do you like the most? Maybe they have a certain way of drawing eyes or noses, or maybe they usually add to line bright colors or make those good looking outlines with lighten color? Try to note these features and use in your drawings so you’d feel more satisfied with final result. Go watch their speedpaints so it would be easier to understand how stuff works. Don’t try to copy, just note some things you love the most about them.

Use references. It really can help with understanding what atmosphere you want from your piece, lighting, environment => it would be easier to imagine it in your head and I think that it’s already a half-finished work if you have a really clear imagine of the final piece in your head with poses, lighting and stuff. I always spend a while for imagining what I want from drawing, often while being on my way to university in a subway, listening to some themed music. Also I used references for my latest Halloween and autumn pieces. It’s not that you copy stuff - more like try to analyze how to make your drawing more realistic and detailed. 

Use different modes of the layers. That’s honestly the best what the God of Digital Art could gift us. My leaders are definitely Glowing and Overlay. Also I would recommend to use rather Multiply mode for shadows than trying to draw them with just same color but darker. You can draw shadows with just purple or brown and than just use Multiply so the they would look more natural. The same goes to everything else - from backgrounds to lighting. These modes can become your true saviour in tough times.

Flip your canvas horizontally all the time to see the mistakes in anatomy, faces and stuff. 

Don’t use too much texture brushes. Seriously they are good but sometimes you only need the most simple ones to create a decent piece.

And of course the very-very main advice. Without it everything I told above loses its sense completely. PRACTICE! Just practice-practice-practice, draw thousands of pics, sketches, try different styles, experiment. It’s the best way to get used to digital art and understand what is comfortable for you and what is not. Experience is really important in this field. Don’t expect that it would turn out immediately perfect and remember that with every piece you become better and more confident. Every finished drawing makes you closer to success and satisfaction from what you do. The most important thing is to not give up. Look for inspiration in songs, people, everything around you, try to make drawings of it, sketches, whatever. Just make a lot of that. Really a lot. Of course with analyze and permanent observation. That’s the only valid way to success. 

These are very rough and maybe I forgot some important parts but tbh I wish someone told me these while I just started to draw digitally. Honestly a really good observation and practice make perfect and I understood it pretty good for these months.

[litriu]

Hi I'm stalking your art tag because you're SO GOOD and just?? How did you improve so much? My art looks the same from like. 10 years ago. How do you do what you do

First of all, thank you so much!! You’re such a sweetie!I am by no means an art teacher. I feel like you have to have a certain mindset to be a teacher, and I don’t have one of those mindset. I’m not good at it, so I don’t teach, but I will give you some really helpful stuff I wish I’d figured out earlier.

Second of all I’m going to give you a boring answer you don’t want to hear and I don’t want to say:

Practice.

Now, here’s the more fun answer that I’m hoping is more helpful:

Practice while you’re going. Every time I draw is a chance to practice. I’ll draw and redraw poses and edit them about a dozen times before I settle on it for lining! In one of my most recent drawings I have AT LEAST 29 layers of me drawing, redrawing, and tweaking the poses.

Practice can mean sitting down and doing 20 hand sketches, or practice can mean something different. Find out what method of practice works best for you. Sometimes drawing a thousand hands doesn’t help, and it’s okay if it doesn’t help you. Find another method!

Don’t settle on your first draft! Redrawing something is not only improving the drawing, but giving you experience for the future!

Draw from life, i know, that’s really basic. But still, it helps!

Make practice fun! Motivate yourself to practice by using things you enjoy drawing. Are you garbage at drawing hands, but you love drawing aliens? Draw aliens with a bunch of hands. This is a really basic example, but you get the jist!

My babe and I recently (before I came down with tendonitis and had to take a break) would watch a dance video where the dancers are wearing relatively snug clothing, pause it at a random place, set a timer for 5 minutes and draw whatever pose we got. (you can obviously do a shorter time if you want!) It helped a lot with foreshortening, movement, and making bodies look more 3d.

Speaking of which this won’t help your art any but it’ll help your health: S T R E T C H before, after, and while you draw, okay? You know that tendonitis I mentioned? Yeah, guess who didn’t stretch. Find stretches that work for you. Wrists, back, neck. Walk around a little every once in a while. Drink water. Eat. Take care of yourself.

Practice SMART, not just practice. Figure out what you want to strengthen in your art style. If you want to focus on improving the fluidity or readability of your poses, doing half hour studies of detailed landscapes or portraits isn’t going to help with that. Doing 1 minute speed-sketches of exaggerated poses might, though. Same goes for if you want to get better at drawing landscapes and detailed portraits.

You’ll get something out of it, so if you want to do these things do them! They’re fun! but don’t draw nothing but anime eyes and wonder why you can’t draw a skyscraper perfectly.

REFERENCE. U S E R E F E R E N C E

I’m gonna break this wall of text up with a doodle of a kitten because it’s a lot

Don’t be afraid of shitty anatomy! Sometimes to get the right perspective, it has to look weird. Making mistakes helps you learn what to improve. What works and what doesn’t. And, in my experience, the pieces I obsessed over were the pieces I felt like aged the worse, while pieces I had fun doing and relaxed drawing are still pieces I really love.

All in all, just don’t be afraid of mistakes. You’ll make them, just have fun making them.

EXPERIMENT, EXPERIMENT, EXPERIMENT! Experiment with colors. With more lineweight, with less lineweight, with weird anatomy and proportions, try out aspects of art styles you love, try out aspects of art styles you hate! Just have fun!

Step out of that comfort zone! Learn something new! You don’t have to curate an entire art exhibit on horses if you can’t draw horses, but sketch a couple at least.

Take bits and pieces from everywhere and adapt them to what works best for you. Does this method of sketching not work for you? Okay, change it. Find a new one. Find one that works better. That includes this list of tips! If something I’m saying doesn’t work for you? IGNORE IT! find something new. Don’t try to force yourself to work in a box that doesn’t work for you. It’ll just make you feel inadequate, and instead of spending time improving, you’re spending time trying to fit into the box.

I can’t give you too many super specific tips because I don’t know your art style or what you want to improve, but in general, just experiment and adapt to whatever works best for you.

This one is more of a catch all for developing your art, not nesecarilly improving it: Don’t treat things like color theory as sacred rules of the land that cannot be broken. Learn anatomy, learn color theory, learn about lineweight and how it works, learn about light and shadow! But keep in mind; they’re a guide for how things work, not an instruction manual. Do whatever you think looks cool, even if that isn’t what other people say looks good.

Learn at every opportunity! You think that lighting is cool? Try to replicate it. You watched a speedpaint and you liked their technique? try it out for yourself. Like that color palette? Analyze what you like about it and try to replicate that feeling.

Draw as often as you can! And “draw as often as you can” does not mean draw until your hands and arms hurt! It means draw a little when you have some time, if you have the energy. Don’t hurt yourself.

Time for another kitten break

Take a step back if you don’t like how something’s turning out. close it up, have something to eat, sleep on it, work on something else, whatever. If you’ve just been looking at it too long, that’ll fix it. And if there’s actually something off, you’ll come back to it less frustrated and with fresh eyes!

Draw fingernails on hands. This sounds really weird and dumb and random but it literally upped my hand game by at least 25%. It does WONDERS for portraying the angle of the hand.

A major chunk of my artistic development and improvement was done in a very unhealthy way. When I was younger, I would push myself to pain, I’d stay up until 3-6 am drawing something, I’d cry at least once every two weeks because I wasn’t good enough. I improved a lot very quickly, but I pushed myself way too hard because I was so desperate to improve…

Don’t do that. I mean it. I’m very thankful for the growth i achieved in that time, but if you can avoid that phase, do. It’s better to improve slowly and keep a healthy relationship with your art than to push yourself so hard that art becomes a chore and you lose your passion, or even hurt yourself.

Finished not Perfect

Your art has improved!! I promise it has, it may not seem like it but it has! You don’t see it right away, but every single drawing is a little better than the last as long as you keep striving to learn a little more with every drawing. Everything grows at a different pace, and you’re growing at the right pace for you.

You’re good enough right now! Have goals for what you want to do with your art, not standards for how “good” you need to be!

I’m sorry this post is long, I wish I could say “I sacrificed my soul to the art demons” but… I can’t say that. I didn’t do anything special.

Draw as much as you can, draw what makes you happy, draw new and exciting things, and surround yourself with art, artists, and people that inspire you!

BEND ART TO YOUR WILL AND MAKE IT YOUR PET

If you know an art demon that might help too idk?

aaaand here’s one more incredibly small, incredibly round kitten