#I wish I was faster at drawing so I could just put out more of these two on here I want to share more not just have it all in my brain augh

[r-aindr0p]

Don't worry Rook's a philantropist he will help you aim better next time, perhaps...

No dialog version under the cut

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @themetalhiro

Hi, I’m Metal! I’m a freelance artist from good ol’ New Jersey. My favorite things to work with are a lot of bright colors, exaggerated poses, and candid scenarios. I try to farm sensible chuckles whenever I can, so I’m also big into comics. I love making them about my life, and the media I’m into, and one day I’d like to publish my own series!  Thank you to everyone who has gotten me this far!!

Check out Metal's interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I guess so! It’s funny, I don’t remember a single time in my life that I wasn’t drawing as a hobby… somewhere in middle school (a little late, I know.) I put the pieces together that animated movies were made by artists, and that it wasn’t just for fun, they were paid to do it. The moment I discovered people could be paid to make art, I decided I would do that, too. Now I’m here!

How has your style developed over the years?

I think the best way to answer this would be with an example! Over the last few years, I have made more of an effort to draw more intentionally, which sounds silly. Now, I put more thought into my poses and step out of my comfort zone with shape language and composition. I had a phase where I drew everyone with a huge, perfectly circular head and no nose. That definitely did not lend much variety...

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

Ack! I’m so terrible at history! I’d love to give a well-thought-out answer about fine artists of old, but I don't think we’d have much in common… Most artists I admire and who have driven me forward creatively are the people behind comics I’ve read. Andrew Hussie, Bryan Lee O’Malley, Eiichiro Oda... these guys have inspired me greatly and had a heavy influence in developing my art style and sense of humor. I’d love to ask them questions about their processes and upcoming projects. I think it would make for an entertaining night!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Outside of pure aesthetics like searing bright colors, layered clothing, and loud noises…. the best and most inspiring moments in my life were those surrounded by friends and loved ones! I cherish the hell out of memories of hanging around in fun locations, trying weird food together, and impromptu midnight walks... so I try my best to capture that atmosphere and my own memories in my work when I can, even if I’m imposing fictional characters on top of them. That’s always the core of it.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I would never permanently refuse a medium, but every time I pick up clay, I’m like a baby using its hands for the first time. Absolutely dreadful. If one day I could make and paint a figurine like the ones I admire in videos, that would be awesome... But for now, I’m not counting on it.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I’ve had an absolute blast drawing fanart over the years, and it’s certainly played a massive role in my growth as an artist. But my dream has always been to publish my own stories for y'all to enjoy! I have lots of worlds I want to introduce to you before I’m old and gray. I want to get faster, work harder, and get better at drawing interesting settings so I can get the wheels turning as soon as possible. I also want to stop avoiding the color blue like a coward.

What do you wish you knew when you first started out creating art that you know now?

Pay your taxes quarterly. Tablets will break at the exact moment you need them most, so have a spare. Wear your blue light glasses. You’re going to need to wear a brace on every joint on the right side of your body. It can be lonely sitting at your desk all day. The car on the side of the road that costs $1000 cash….. don’t trust it!!!

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@cranity—They use absolutely beautiful colors and weighty line work. Everything looks so sharp and clean! I wanna put it all up on my wall!

@vewn—Their ability to crank out quality short films and illustrations packed with detail is incredible. The off-kilter perspective they use really sells disorientation and catches your attention like nothing else.

@nelnal—They have absolutely banger character designs again and again, I can’t believe one person’s mind can come up with so many creative ideas!

@jinx88kc—They have a beautiful and recognizable style, and the way they incorporate animation into their illustrations sometimes is SO cool!

Thanks for stopping by, Metal! For more of Metal’s work, follow their Tumblr, @themetalhiro! If you haven't seen their Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here!

[signedkoko]

HEHEHHEE OPEN REQUESTS???

Hello koko! I was summoned by your open requests, and I just had an idea, how about headcanons/one shot for Alastor and Vox (separately) with a reader who has powers a bit like Toge Inumaki in JJK?( I saw that you were watching JJK so I assume you know how his powers works) like what do they think about it? how do they react when reader uses her powers? How they communicate with her?

THANKS FOR READING MY REQUEST DEAR KOKO! HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT

-🐚

Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which your speech causes action, so you can't speak unless you wish to control others. Reader is female.

When you first came to the hotel, Alastor was not impressed

You were certainly a gorgeous sight, but it was ruined by the device in your hands that you had your nose buried in, screen lighting ruining your face

It took him quite a while when he heard strings of words emanating from the device to realize you were speaking through it, your fingers pressing on keys faster than he could follow

You introduced yourself to everyone that day, as a new hire for the hotel, and how you couldn't speak but hoped it wouldn't get in the way

He was certainly irked by the device in your hands, but it was funny to see someone so weak that they had to rely on a flimsy device made by an even flimsier overlord

Truly a shame

You learn the hard way not to get too close to him while using your device, or else it starts to act up and get damaged

Alastor still spoke to you; of course he did! Because he was amused knowing you couldn't retort

But eventually, without noticing, he would talk more and more, filling every aspect of the silence between you

You were the best listener, both since you had no choice and because you didn't give any shitty advice

The only thing that weirded him out was the weird clicking he started to hear around you

Something about it was so familiar

J-E-R-K-J-E-R-K-J-E-R

When he looked down at your hand and saw a clicker in your hand, he realized what you were doing

Of course he knew morse code by heart! He studied all sorts of things, but he wasn't sure why you'd do things that way when you had a much easier device

Unless you did it just for him?

R-K-J-E-R-K-J

" And who are we calling names, my voiceless companion? "

Y-O-U

Still, it's very touching to see you go from using your phone to putting it away when you come to him to talk

And not much changes since you can't get out too many words with your morse method

One evening, while on a walk together, Alastor was reciting to you how he'd come to work for Charlie and how she sang on the news for so many to see! When a group of assassins surrounded the two of you, angel steel weapons were on full display

Before Alastor handled them—which, let's be fair, would be no issue to him—you pulled quicker on the draw

" COMATOSE. "

You yelled it with your hands clamped over Alastors ears, and the instant the word came out, they all dropped, beyond unconcious

Alastor laughs, because wow, that was quite the display!

But he's already dragging you over them to continue talking, now teasing you for treating him like a helpless damsel

He was certainly glad that he hadn't made an enemy of you when he first saw you, because you may stand a chance against him with an ability like that

Most sinners had some kind of ability that grew with their power, often souls under contract or training enhancing them

Vox himself had plenty of tricks under his sleeves, and he'd seen the most pathetic of abilities to those worth cowering before

But he'd never heard of something like yours

Overlords loved showing off their resources, which could include people who became very useful in battle

You were a 'friend' of Zestial, though, while most jumped at the opportunity to introduce themselves to other overlords, you only waved

Of course you piqued his interest, because when he ran his servers over you, he found little to nothing beyond pictures

After several days of stalking video feeds, he caught you and Zestial together when—oh fuck! You sign!

While he could have just waited for the next opportunity, Vox was far too invested in your story and opted to pay Zestial a visit, if it meant he could see you

From what he could tell, you were using ASL, so once he bumped into you he began signing his typical introduction

Something about his heart sparked when he saw you smile, the way those curious eyes sparkled

He was immediately embarrassed when you revealed he didn't have to sign because you could hear

But he was all healed when you signed that you were very glad to have met someone else you could talk with

Vox is used to the overstimulation of noises from news, music, footage, all of it always beaming into his head so much that the silence around you is eerie and takes him awhile to get used to

Zestial certainly has an ace; one Vox is jealous of

Since you got along so well, you and Vox schedule meet-ups so you can interact, seeing as he and Zestial are almost exact opposites

The first time he witnesses your powers is when Alastor shows up at one of your meetings, and he was certainly trying to embarrass Vox in front of you

But Vox was your friend, and you had no tolerance for Alastors threats

" Silence. "

From your lips poured a thick fog, which whisped its way over Alastor's mouth, forming a seal that prevented him from speaking

The radio demon wasn't pleased, but he wasn't about to act up a scene right now, so he turned and left

Vox immediately fanboys because, oh my FUCKING GOD, you showed him!!!

Wait, you can talk? You sound like that?

YOUR POWERS DID THAT???

He is about to waste your evening asking all kinds of things, you probably can't sign as fast as he can ask, too

Author's Note - Conch anon gets only the BEST of the BEST!!! I did like writing these anyways though, because i adore Inumaki...thank you for requesting!

[starlighttsv]

Paige Bueckers x reader going to a store and participating in Angel tree’s

Day 2

Angel Tree - p.b

Sum: adopting kids off the angel tree and giving them the best Christmas ever

Warnings: fluff

Pair: Paige x gf!reader

Wc: 1.2k

My masterlist

“Jacob, 5 years old likes Spider-Man, Batman, Iron Man, coloring books, books, and doing arts & crafts. Wants a basketball and basketball hoop. Needs all clothes and winter gear, + shower soaps, a toothbrush and toothpaste.” You read off to Paige “Alright let’s add him too, pick one more” Paige says taking the angel tag from you and putting it with the other four.

You look around the tree looking at all the tags wishing you could give all of them the Christmas they deserve but you know you can’t. Two tags stuck out to you the most so you grabbed them and walked back over to Paige.

“I can’t pick between these two so you need to choose.” You start making Paige nod “Lila, 4 years old likes Hello Kitty, Barbie, baby dolls, Disney princesses, drawing, and Stitch. Wants a baby doll and a stuffed animal. Needs shoes and clothes” you then put that tag behind the other one and start reading the second one “Taylor, 16 years old likes skincare, makeup, hair accessories, Taylor Swift, reading, listening to music, volleyball, and basketball. Wants either cds and a cd player or vinyls and a vinyl player. Needs clothes, walking shoes, basketball shoes, and all hygiene products” you then looked up at Paige “which one?” You ask

She just walks towards you and takes both tags and puts them in the cart with the others “wha-“ you cut yourself off “I thought we were only doing 6?” You say running up to Paige to catch up with her since she started pushing the cart in the direction of the clothes “and now we’re doing 7” she says with a cheeky smile that you shake your head fondly at “but I will say we didn’t think this far ahead, this carts not gonna be big enough for 7 kids” Paige continues

You look at her then the cart and before you can say anything she cuts in “you go start getting clothes for either the boys or the girls and I’m gonna go get another cart” she says passing off the cart to you and walking off all before you could say anything

You push the cart to the closest clothes area which happens to be girls and women’s. They all need coats so you grab the correct size and design you think matches each kid and decide to start with the teenagers then work your way to the kid section. Paige comes back with another cart while you’re making your way to the kid section after getting quite a bit of clothes for the 2 girl teenagers. “Is that all the girls or just the teenagers?” Paige asks walking up to you with the cart

“Just the teenagers, I’m making my way to the kid’s section now. Why?” You replied looking up at Paige, she shakes her head and says “nothing, I was just thinking we could split up for the clothes to make this go faster, I can do the boys while your getting the rest of the girls.” You nod “yeah that could work, I’ll come over to you if I get done before you.” Paige nods saying she’ll do the same and then started walking towards the boys and men section while you continue your way to the girls section.

After you and Paige both got a lot of clothes for the kids you both decided to get the other necessities next getting all sorts of soaps, hygiene products, shoes, socks, hats, scarfs, gloves, and ear muffs. “Alright I think we can start with the wish list and like list now” Paige says stopping the cart and looking at the boys wishlist items again, making you do the same “I need to get a basketball & hoop, headphones & either an iPad or iPhone, and a pair of basketball shoes & dunks” Paige reads off

“I need a baby doll & a stuffed animal, art supplies, cds & cd player or vinyls & vinyl player, and dystopian book’s & romance books” you read off “Were kinda all over the store with this one” Paige says chuckling a little making you giggle and nod “Do you wanna split up for this one too? Should we just get everything off their list separately and meet up somewhere?” You ask making Paige look at her lists “yeah probably I think there are only like 3 aisles that we both need stuff from off of all these lists.” Paige starts thinking about how you guys should do this “Alright yeah let’s split up and get everything off the lists and meet up in the candy aisle. If you need me call me.” She continues, you nod agreeing with her telling her to also call if needed.

After around a hour and a half you start making your way to the candy aisle. You got a lot of stuff and some extra things that you think they will really like - for the baby doll you also got accessories and baby furniture, for the Barbie’s you also got the dream house, you got Taylor a vinyl player with all Taylor Swift vinyls + some vinyls of artists you think she’ll like, SOOO many books, and that’s not even all of it, there is still a bunch more of what you got.

Finally making it to the candy aisle you see Paige with her cart just as full as yours “hey babe” you say walking up to her making her look up from her phone “hey princess, you ready to checkout?” You just nod and you guys start making your way to the only area that doesn’t have long lines currently and also surprisingly - self checkout.

You and Paige both go to the only open one, with Paige letting you go first and handing you stuff for you to scan to make it easier.

When it’s time to pay you grab your wallet and get your card ready to pay, then you hear the confirmation ding making you look at Paige - standing with her phone out and grabbing the receipt “seriously? P I was gonna pay, you didn’t have to do that.” You whine out

“I wanted to do it. “ she starts then continues before you could say anything “Just let me spoil you with no complaints PLEASE” she draws the please out making you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face “Technically you’re not spoiling me, your spoiling those girls.” You say smartly making Paige smack her lips together and side eye you while putting your shopping bags in your cart “Ok well technically I’m spoiling both you and those girls because now you still have 3,798 in your bank account and their getting everything on their Christmas lists. It’s a win-win-win situation” she says with a cheeky grin

“Win-win-win situation?” You mumble under your breath “yes a win-win-win situation, what about it?” Paige sasses starting to scan all her stuff, you just shake your head and put your hands up in mock surrender “nothing” Paige just side eyes you again. Once she was done scanning and you guys fought over who payed (she cheated and payed with Apple Pay while she was pushing you back from putting your card in) you and Paige turned the gifts and tags in to where you were supposed to and then exited the store “lunch on me?” Paige suddenly asks while you guys were walking to the car making you side eye her this time.

[daenysx]

hii!!!! i saw u wanted sleepy maurauders request so can i request a jamie and reader go on a run or to the gym and reader is sooo out of it bc of an injury in the beginning of the year (not kidding i literally can’t run a mile anymore) and he’s like ugh im so sore too just to please the reader and they lay in bed and it’s all very sleepy and cute???

thanks angel, i hope you enjoy

james potter x fem!reader, fluff

"jamie." you whimper, moving your achy legs to get under the covers. "would you please- i can't feel my legs."

james is acting dramatic today and you're kinda having fun with it. he's strong and he must be less sore than you, he doesn't have any past injury pulling him down when he works out. you're still proud of yourself, though, moving your body felt nice. even if it doesn't change the fact that you feel numb and achy all over your body.

"okay, okay, come here." james finally gets you closer to himself to help you settle down. "what should we do to help you feel better?"

"sleep." you mumble. he smells so good, it distracts you.

he takes a breath before turning to his side and adjusting his head to put it on your shoulder. his hair tickles your neck, but you don't mind. "i can give you a massage." he offers, gently.

"you're tired."

"you can give me a massage?"

"i'm more tired."

"aw, poor girl."

neither of you gets any massage, that's okay. james is fond of your warm body next to him, he drags his hand on your thigh just to keep it there. lifting his chin to find your cheek, he gives you a nice kiss. poor, lovely sweetheart. all tired and achy, james wants to be wrapped around you.

you turn your head to hold him, hug his shoulders as much as you can by moving your arm enough in bed. his lips find your collarbone and he draws a line with kisses there, your heart beats tiny bit faster for him.

sleep is like honey in your eyes, intense and effective, you find yourself drifting off suddenly. james listens to your breathing, your fingers unconsciously move on his shoulder blades, and he wishes for you to press harder right there. you could if you were awake, but he realizes the yearning for touch is a part of loving you. he's gonna look for satisfaction in the little touches you give him as you sleep.

"jamie?" you murmur after a minute. you move your arm, it'll go numb if you don't.

"yes, baby?"

"can you hold me?" you ask without opening your eyes. maybe you're still asleep, james isn't sure. "like- closer."

he follows your every word and gets you in his arms, your head fits perfectly on his shoulder, and you settle on his chest. you're the cutest when you're asleep, all pouty lips and sleep filled eyes. james thinks he can watch you like this for an eternity, but his eyes betray him, and he falls asleep.

[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 13

w.c - 2.8k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x demon! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

c.w - dark themes, knives

not proofread!

previous / next

masterlist

Time froze as Seonghwa pressed you against the cold wall, his switchblade just under your chin. “How long have you been planning this?” he asked bitterly. “How elaborate is this foolish scheme of yours?”

You squirmed under the blade, wincing. “I don’t kno-”

“You don’t know?” Seonghwa sneered. He dug the blade deeper into your skin, enough to draw a line of blood. “Convenient answer for someone as-”

“-Stop,” Mingi interrupted, his voice hoarse as he tried to rise to his feet once more, gripping the bars for support. “Put the blade down now.”

Seonghwa scoffed, not even sparing him a glance as he kept his eyes on you. “Are you going to be a nuisance the whole time?”

“Yes,” Mingi said. “If you keep hurting her.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “How noble.”

Without warning, he grabbed your arm harshly, dragging you away from the chamber. You tripped, stumbling over your feet as Mingi shouted raspily behind you.

“Where are you taking her?” his voice echoed.

Seonghwa looked back with a cruel smirk. “Out of your reach.”

His grip tightened as he dragged you down the tunnel, away from Mingi’s reassuring presence. Seonghwa pulled you closer to him, his breath against your ear as he leaned in.

“I wonder if he knows how close you are to Yunho.”

Your eyes widened and you tried to push against his grip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Hello?” you pressed on.

He only tightened his hold, dragging you faster as his pace quickened. The wind from the speed hit your face until you were shoved into what appeared to be a lavish bedroom. The abrupt stop made you cough as Seonghwa kicked the door shut and threw you into a chair.

You barely had time to process anything before the switchblade was back, its pointed tip now pressing against your forehead.

“Duke, don’t you think this is unnecessary?” you tried to reason with him, your voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, this is completely necessary,” Seonghwa spat, his face inches away from yours. “How could you betray the King like this?”

“What are you talking about?” You let out a frustrated breath. “You knew that I wasn’t on your side.”

“It’s bad enough being a traitor, but helping another one? In the Palace? Are you insane?” he snapped, his voice rising.

“You can’t possibly believe that we’d kill Mingi like that,” you said, irritated.

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his breathing becoming uneven. “Do you have any idea what this means for us?”

The blade trailed down to your chin, forcing your head up. “Every day, I watch more and more Eternals turn against the King,” his voice cracked. “Whether it’s Mingi or any other idiotic demon.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his grip on the blade tightened as he continued. “And I can’t help but think that you’re the cause of all of this.” 

You stared at him. “Did you really think that this would all end well?”

“Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “Everything ends well. For the Eternals, at least.”

The pause that followed was heavy.

His eyes blinked repeatedly when he realised how close he was to you - and for a moment, something unreadable flashed across his face. Seonghwa backed away suddenly, the blade lowering as he took a step back.

“I didn’t think you were stupid enough to help those.. pests,” Seonghwa said. “What would you even achieve from this? A badge? A trophy? You’re not a saint.”

“Come on,” you sighed wearily. “At this point, I have to beg you to open your eyes. Why are you so blind to the fact that the Halas did nothing wrong?”

“They’ve done many wrong things,” he scoffed.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Stealing land,” he stated.

“No, that was you guys,” you denied.

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed. “They’re aggressive-”

“-They wouldn’t be that way if you guys didn’t attack them every century,” you cut him off.

“They hate us,” he said. “I’m sure they would harm us if they could.”

“Because the Eternals harmed them first.”

Seonghwa blinked. He brought the switchblade back to your chin, though his movements were almost hesitant now. “You think you’re funny?”

“Who told you all these things about the Halas?” you asked.

He paused.

“...The King,” he said hesitantly.

His eyes burned into yours as the silence stretched between the two of you. You would have felt pity for him if he didn’t hold a literal blade to your chin at that moment.

“Why would you believe him?” you asked softly.

“...Because he’s the only one that believes in me,” Seonghwa whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

His breathing slowed down as he lowered his knife completely, sitting on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slumped like he was beginning to see cracks in his beliefs.

You stood up, dusting off your cloak. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t look at you, his brows furrowing as his thoughts spiralled. 

“I hope you open your eyes to see that the Halas aren’t the bad ones here,” you said, moving to leave. “Wake up, Seonghwa. The King is using you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooden training swords clashed against each other in the training hall. You stumbled back, wiping the sweat from your face as you tried to hold your stance. Jongho stood infront of you, barely out of breath.

“How-” you gasped. “How the Hell are you so strong?”

A small smile tugged at Jongho’s lips as he watched you drop to the floor, sprawling on your back. The floor beneath you felt cool to your heated skin.

“You’re pretty strong too,” he shrugged. “If only you had more stamina.”

“That’s it,” You waved him off, panting. “I’m done.”

“Come on, one more round,” he clapped his hands together, a grin forming.

“No- I actually can’t,” you said, lifting your head slightly off the ground. 

Jongho crouched beside you, his arms resting on his knees. “I’m sure you can,” he smirked.

“Ask Wooyoung. Or San,” you suggested, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m sure San would be thrilled to spar with you.”

“Maybe,” Jongho replied, chuckling. “But it’s not as fun.”

You exhaled sharply. “I can’t-”

“Just one more round,” he said. “Please?”

You groaned, knowing that he was not taking ‘no’ for an answer. With a cough, you pushed yourself off of the floor. “Fine. But if you ask for another after this, I’m fighting you for real.”

The next round was brutal. Jongho didn’t even bother to go easy on you. You gave it your all, your muscles screaming in protest. By the time it was over, you collapsed to the ground once again.

Jongho sat cross-legged beside you. He looked over at you. “Sorry, I think I went too far,” he admitted, his eyes softening slightly.

��It’s okay,” you muttered between your gasps for air. “Just let me rot here..”

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as the two of you sat in silence. After a while, you lifted your head to look at him. “You can go back if you want.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean it,” you insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

Without a word, Jongho stood up and walked away, leaving the room. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. But after a few minutes, you heard the door creaking open. You turned your head - and there he was again.

Jongho held up a few apples as he walked towards you.

“I don’t-”

“Just take them,” he cut you off.

You sighed but reached out, taking one. The bite was crisp and refreshing, something you desperately needed after that horrid sparring session. Jongho sat next to you, biting into one of them himself.

The two of you ate in silence. And after all these crazy things happening to you, you finally felt like you had a break.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooyoung rolled around in your bed, a little too comfortable for someone that just barged into your room. 

“I’m so jealous,” he grumbled, tossing his arms behind his head. “Why is your room as big as the barracks we sleep in?” 

You shrugged. “I’m just that good.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of your pillows before throwing it at you. You were about to throw the pillow back when you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Both of you froze, staring at each other. 

“Who is that?” Wooyoung whispered. 

“I don’t know, but you’re not supposed to be here,” you gestured to the bathroom. “Hide.”

Without wasting a second, Wooyoung scurried to the bathroom, quickly shutting the door. You smoothed out your clothes and opened your bedroom door to reveal.. Yunho. 

“Hey..” you greeted confusedly. You peeked out into the hallway, checking if either Hongjoong or Seonghwa were around. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I-“ he began, toying with the sleeves of his blazer. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

He blinked. “Uh- I meant inside.”

You paused, your eyebrows shooting up. “Oh.”

Before you could invite him in, Wooyoung’s head popped out from behind the bathroom door. Yunho’s eyes narrowed immediately. 

“I see you have company,” Yunho coughed out. He took a step back. “Forget it, we’ll talk later.”

“Nonono,” Wooyoung said, walking over to the door. “I’m sure whatever you need to say to her, you can say to me as well.”

Yunho looked visibly annoyed. “I don’t think-“

“I think,” Wooyoung interrupted, putting his arm on your shoulder. “It’s perfectly fine for you to talk to her. As long as I’m here.”

Your eyes pleaded for Yunho to just go along with it. Yunho looked at you, then Wooyoung. “Fine,” he muttered.

As the three of you walked into the room, Yunho sighed heavily. “What is he doing here?”

“Well-” you began before pausing, glancing at Wooyoung. “Honestly, I don’t know. He kinda just appeared.”

Wooyoung sat on the chair in the corner of the room, tilting his head. “What’s wrong with two demons hanging out?” he asked, his eyes locked on Yunho.

“Nothing,” Yunho crossed his arms, glaring right back at him. “Except for the fact that you’re hanging out in her bedroom.”

“You-”

“-What do you need, Yunho?” you cut in, hoping that the two of them would stop. You sat on the edge of your bed and watched as Yunho stood stiffly, still fidgeting with his sleeves.

Yunho took a deep breath, pulling a folded piece of paper from his blazer. “Someone slid this under my door,” he said, handing it to you.

You opened it, raising an eyebrow when you saw elegantly written words on it:

‘Tell your girlfriend that I will assist her in reckless endeavours to help the roaches of Hell - under the condition that my actions will not bring harm to the King. If her plans stray beyond this boundary, my assistance will cease immediately, together with my tolerance for her life.

Do not make me regret this decision.’

“Seonghwa…” you breathed out. 

You looked over the note again, re-reading it to check if you were just seeing things. While you did find it questionable that he referred to you as Yunho’s ‘girlfriend’, something else bothered you.

“Wait-” Your head snapped up, narrowing your eyes on Yunho. “Why would he give this to you?”

Yunho swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I.. had a conversation with him two nights ago,” he confessed, his posture uneasy. “Trying to convince him to be more.. open-minded about loyalty.”

You leaned forward, urging him to continue. “And?”

Yunho sighed. “He kept going on about how we had no power, no plan- no way of getting away with this. I thought showing him the chambers would prove we’re smarter than he thinks.”

Your stomach dropped. “Are you serious?” you nearly shouted, standing abruptly. “You’re the reason I almost died.”

“Died?” Wooyoung exclaimed, rising from his chair. He cracked his fingers as he glared at Yunho. “Oh I knew you were shitty-”

“He wouldn’t kill her,” Yunho scoffed. “He’s not brave enough for that.”

“He was brave enough to hold a knife to my neck after realising Mingi was alive,” you shot back.

Yunho bit the inside of his cheek. “To be fair, I didn’t tell him that part.”

You groaned, your hands running through your hair as you slowly sat back down onto your bed. “I need a moment to think about this.”

A silence fell over the three of you before Wooyoung spoke up. “This is when you leave.” 

Yunho hesitated, reaching for the note before you slapped your hand over it. “Leave it here,” you demanded.

He nodded reluctantly, standing and walking to the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back at you - his eyes softening with concern. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind you.

You heard a ‘tsk’ as Wooyoung walked towards you. “This is exactly why I don’t trust him,” he muttered, his voice bitter.

You glared at him as he picked up the note, reading it. You saw how his brows furrowed as something strange flashed in his eyes before he set it back down.

“Just saying, if that were me,” he added quietly, pointing to where Yunho just left. “I would never put you in that situation.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

The quiet rustle of paper cranes filled the room, folding and unfolding in your hands as you sat at Hongjoong’s desk. Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen and Hongjoong was seated across from you, completely focused on the documents infront of him.

As you dropped the crane into the jar - you noticed something.

A ring. On the King’s hands.

There was something disturbingly familiar about it.

The piece of metal on his ring finger caught your attention. Was he married? From what you knew of the Royals, you were sure that he wasn’t. Also, the ring looked weirdly cheap and old. Would the King really wear something as inexpensive as that?

The longer you stared at it, the more your surroundings melted around you - your mind transporting you to a dream-like place. Or a memory.

The feeling of demons pushing past you came back. The sounds haggling grew louder as merchants and shopkeepers yelled for demons to come to their stalls.

Though despite this, a small shop caught your eye. A display of trinkets and jewelry, all made with cheap copper and brass.

Your fingers brushed over a simple copper ring, the metal warm to the touch under the blistering sun. It was small and simple - something that you knew wouldn’t get stolen by other demons.

“I’ll take this one,” you said, placing a few coins on the table. 

As you slipped the ring onto your finger, the world seemed to shift and you found yourself in the office, in the middle of folding a crane. 

You blinked, trying to brush off that memory of yours. It wasn’t that significant, was it?

But as you folded another paper crane, your eyes darted to Hongjoong’s hands again. The ring stirred a strangely intense feeling of deja vu.

“...Where did you get that ring from?” you asked, your mouth moving before you could think.

Hongjoong froze. The slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise, though he quickly recovered. He touched the ring briefly, almost unconsciously, as he lowered the file.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing on you. “What happened to your chin?”

You instinctively touched the sore cut under your chin, wincing slightly at the reminder of your conversation with Seonghwa. “I fell-”

Before you could finish, a knock was heard. Seonghwa entered, though he paused when he noticed the tension in the room. He walked over to his chair, sitting down slowly. 

Hongjoong’s eyes shifted from you to Seonghwa. Without a word, he rose from his seat and walked over to the Duke.

In one swift motion, Hongjoong snatched the switchblade from Seonghwa’s belt. You held your breath as he turned the blade over in his hands, studying it intently.

Hongjoong walked back to you, his footsteps echoing softly against the carpet. Gently, he held your chin with one hand, tilting it upward so the light shined on the scar. The unexpected softness of his touch sent a jolt through your spine. His eyes darted between the wound and the blade, comparing the line of the cut to the edge of the weapon.

“Hm,” you heard him say as he stepped away. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the blade back onto Seonghwa’s lap.

Seonghwa managed to catch the weapon, his face filled with worry as his jaw twitched.

Hongjoong returned to his seat, his eyes lingering on Seonghwa for a moment too long before he shifted his attention back to you.

He nodded toward the sheets of square paper scattered on the desk, finally speaking up. “Fold.”

remember to like repost and comment! i love reading all of them, so feel free to comment as much as you want! any and all feedback appreciated <3

series taglist [OPEN] - @binchanluvrr @hiddlestandom @avantalem @hecateslittlewitchling @iara-ya @thunderous-wolf @jaerisdiction @mallielovssyou @syzygyweeb @dime29 @marsofeight @doitforbangchan @shotaswife @soulphoenix1618 @justalittlegirl27 @minakooo @nqyzhuo @symmieangela @miyaluvvsyou @pirana10 @arilevenatz @darkmiraclefest @eighttens @lightwxodd @non-return @yunhossilverlight @levishun @sunkissedchocobeauty @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @castingjinx @sparda1234 @choisanchwego

[leqonsluv3r]

valentine’s day

—leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store, a blurb

masterlist taglist

an: i’ve had this idea in my head since i went to the LANY concert a month ago and heard this song live. i have not been the same person since, this drabble/blurb is dedicated to this song and leon. it’s a lot longer then i intended and i apologize lol

leon wasn’t one to heal easy.

not from his past, not from the missions when he saw more gore and blood then he wanted to. not when he had gagged every time he saw blood from that point foreword.

he was still healing when he walked into a grocery store about four months after his last mission. he was still healing when he grabbed one of those stupid baskets to carry your groceries in through the store.

he grabbed a couple bottles of alcohol, some snacks and some soap. essentials, things he needs. because sleeping without alcohol now is…it’s a lot harder then it used to be. just nightmares and images of bloodshed — he just says fuck it. he gets what he needs, what he wants and he goes up to the front of the store to pay.

what he doesn’t understand, when he sees you for the first time, is why your working in a grocery store of all places. your too beautiful for that, you should be doing something better, something worthy of your time. he doesn’t know a single thing about you yet and he’s willing to draw that conclusion.

you smile kindly at people from behind your register, your voice is kind and sweet. it draws something within him like a magnet, his heart is pounding, he’s going to explode or something. he used to be so good at talking to women but it’s declined as the years have gone by. he’s gotten tired, he just didn’t care like he used to.

he awkwardly sits his basket down on the conveyor belt of the register, you catch his eye and smile a little and it fucking does something to him. he knows he’s screwed beyond relief at that point. he smiles back, or tries to. he’s out of practice on that to, can’t remember the last time he’s smiled.

“this all for you?” you say softly, your eyes scanning over the bottles of alcohol, the snacks and the bottle of soap. he nods and chuckles a little, low and deep, just like his voice. “yeah, that’s all…” he grabs his wallet out of his back pocket of his jeans.

he wish he could say something better, something more positive and just something to grab your attention. he searches his brain as you tell him the total and he hands you the card. but he doesn’t have to say anything, you speak first.

“leon? that’s…you have a nice name.” you say and it snaps him out of his brain, he blinks those devastating blue eyes. ones that were once full of life, he nods. “my mom gave it to me.” he jokes lamely, or at least he thinks it’s lame until he hears your small little giggle.

he feels his heart beat with more confidence and energy now, like his one effort at making you smile is good enough. making you laugh is worth enough. you hand him his card back and put the receipt in the shopping bag, telling him to have a great day. not a nice day like you did with the others, but a great day. like you could tell he needed to hear that.

he walks out of the grocery store with the biggest, stupidest smile on his face. one that he has been a stranger to for months. he has you to thank for that.

the weeks that followed he came back to the grocery store, once maybe sometimes three times a week if he wasn’t sent off on a mission. he almost can’t help himself, he likes talking to you when your there.

you make him feel something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. it’s almost ridiculous, but he can’t help himself, it’s like an addiction. but it doesn’t involve him waking up with a hangover.

he keeps coming, week after week and buying things from the grocery store just to talk to you, just to see your sweet face. just to give him some kind of ray of sunshine that casts his whole body in a warm glow. making his heart beat faster.

but today was different, he was going to ask you out today. he was going to do it, he couldn’t be scared anymore. he couldn’t let you pass by anymore like something rare and just ignore you.

you were something to him. even if you didn’t even know that yet.

he walked up, carrying the same five things he always grabbed. his heart was pounding wildly, he was so out of practice but he just had to get out there and do it. just give himself something, he would hope you would say yes.

he put the items on the conveyor belt and waited until it was his turn, you finished checking out the customer in front of him and then turned to look at him. “hi stranger, haven’t seen you in awhile.” you say with a small frown, it’s adorable, it makes his heart melt.

he chuckles and shakes his head, “didn’t know you missed me.” he muses as he watches you start scanning his stuff. slowly and methodically almost as if you wanted this interaction to last longer too.

you sigh and shake your head, “of course i did, your my favorite customer.” you say with a small smile, and if he wasn’t looking so intently at you, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i better be. goodness knows i give you guys enough business.” he chuckles playfully and flashes you a grin, almost as bright as the sun. he didn’t know where he was willing this confidence from, maybe it’s because he needed you. he needed you to at least attempt to be with him. you were the first light he has had in his life in a long time.

you scan his last item and he realizes it’s now or never, “26.73” you say as you lay out your hand for the card so he can pay. he reaches into his wallet and gives it to you, your fingers brush against each other. he wills himself to do it, to just do it now.

“uhm, i actually…i have a question for you.” he says with a small tremble of his hands, keeping his eyes on you to gauge your reaction behind the register. you look back up at him, swiping his card. “yeah?” you say and he could swear there’s almost hopefulness in your voice.

he swallows all the nerves down and attempts to keep himself calm enough to get this out, he can’t screw this up. he cannot screw you up, he would never forgive himself if he did.

“do you want to go out with me? like on a date?” he says and it’s so weird, the words feel foreign as they slipped from his mouth. usually women used to flock to him, but they didn’t anymore. his confidence with women had slipped right along with him trying to be sober all the time.

you blinked at him, holding onto his card in your small but intricate fingers. you seem to be thinking it over, weighing your options. he feels like the rejection is going to slip out of your lips at any given moment and he’s preparing himself for it.

then eventually, you respond, “i’d love to.”

now, it’s his turn to gawk and blink at you, almost perplexed that you are actually saying yes, accepting him and accepting this date. he can’t help the smile on his face, it’s almost stupid. you hand him the card and his brain goes on autopilot. you hand him the bag of his stuff, he grabs it and goes to walk away.

until, “wait! you forgot your receipt!” you yell behind him, holding up a slip of paper and waving it. he turns around and walks back to the register, his brows furrowed. you never gave him a receipt, he grabs the slip of paper from your fingers. he reads it over with confusion until he sees your number at the bottom, your hand writing and scribbles drawn with a little heart next to it.

he smiles, another genuine one that only you could conjure onto his face. “text me, we can set up a date.” you say to him, nodding towards the receipt. you look just as giddy as he feels inside. he nods, “absolutely. will do.”

he texts you the minute he gets home. and you respond. the texts keep going between you two until you both eventually settle on a date to go out. your both feeling like love-struck teenagers, so entranced with each other it’s almost borderline disgusting.

the week after you set the date passes and neither of you can hardly wait. you both have your reasons for being nervous, you both have that joy when you see each other but it shines in a different way. especially when he picks you up for your guy’s date.

you look stunning. stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it for him. you look like if heaven was a person, like an angel. that’s good enough reason for him to not let his blue eyes break from you all night.

and they don’t, they don’t ever break. not one second, he keeps his gaze on you at dinner, when your both talking and flirting aimlessly with each other. to leon, it feels good to have that someone; even if they don’t know it yet. that lights up their world and just makes it so much better.

he doesn’t break his gaze when you two walk by the lake, showing him all the birds and where they nest when winter comes closer. he admires the way you talk about small things, things that other people wouldn’t normally talk about or care about for that matter. but you took time, every week, to come feed the ducks and birds at this lake.

and he doesn’t break his gaze when he walks you back to your place, low intimate whispers that turn into slow kisses and touches. it doesn’t turn frantic, it just stays slow and gentle. it’s loving and it almost wants to make leon cry, because you care so much, this kiss just proves it.

because for the first time in a long time, you make him feel cared for. you make him feel wanted and it’s so much to him that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

he wants you forever, he wants you as long as you let him have you. and he’s always going to take care of you, just like you’ve unknowingly taken care of him. taken the sadness away from him by just being in his life.

three months later, you and leon were dating.

you guys were the happiest people, it seemed you brought leon back from the edge. he opened up and you learned all you could about him. he got to learn more about you. and you both loved the idea of having that one confidant in each other.

the one you would have when you were sad, scared, angry, frustrated, etc. everything made sense with the two of you together. and you guys found that one piece that was missing within each of you. you guys were happy, leon was smiling a lot more then he usually did.

he didn’t drink his days away anymore, he didn’t come back from missions to an empty apartment and he didn’t have nightmares. it was still there but you dulled the ache, you filled that dark hole inside of him that had been gone for so long.

you made him happier, you made him recognize the man in the mirror again with your love. your love and everything about you made him better. he was better for you.

you had each other to soothe the gaps and ridges of your guys souls that were jagged. you had that thing that he was searching for, that he’d been missing for so long.

he loved you.

and nothing was ever going to change that.

an: i love you guys sm :,) thank you guys for reading my stuff and engaging. i was so worried when i started writing on tumblr that it wasn’t going to take. that no one would like my writing and i was wrong. you guys have given me so much support in liking my fics. it makes me so happy to have that support. it keeps me going. i love you all, i’ll be posting a one shot soon, keep up on my requests. pls reblog if you enjoyed, you guys know the drill. kisses, xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim (to join the taglist DM me or interact with my link at the beginning)

[ddarker-dreams]

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.” 

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure. 

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?” 

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off. 

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.” 

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity). 

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.” 

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him. 

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do. 

“Do I get any final requests?” 

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?” 

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible. 

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale. 

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both. 

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade. 

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it. 

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.” 

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam. 

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.” 

[copinghex]

Blood hands | T.S

Summary: After killing someone for the first time, Tommy's wife has to deal with the emotional consequences of it. Luckily, he's there to look after her.

She was terrible in biology, never got more than a B, it didn't matter how hard she studied. Every exam period she went to the tiny, dusty Birmingham's library and took notes from the anatomy books. Nothing ever changed.

Analyzing the drawings, she tried to make sense out of them, the muscles, joints and bones, wrapped together in the masterwork of the human body. It just didn't make sense to her, the subject simply wouldn't get into her brain and honestly, it disgusted her too. She had no wish to see beneath someone's skin, aware the reality was much more bloodier and morbid than the books.

Less than ten years later, she did, but unlike she imagined, the bile didn't rise to her throat expressing the deep disgust. Her eyes opened widely, unable to move from the mess of what once must've been a beautiful body.

The curly golden locks hid the agent's frightened looks, gladly, because the murderer in the train station wouldn't bear to face the lack of life in her blue eyes. 

Blood ran down her nose, her hands shook and her left eye stung. The woman who a few ago held her in disadvantage, sticking a sharp nail into her orb, was reduced to nothing by the train's velocity. A push was all it took.

Then, her trance was interrupted by the sound of steps, she ran away like a child avoiding punishment, not many people dared to fuck with a gangster's fiancée, but the ones who did certainly would make her look much worse in the train tracks.

As she headed home, carrying her heels in hand so she could walk faster, another haunting thought crept into her mind, Tommy, the reason why she had blood in her hands. She was sure he'd be dead when she got home, with a bullet Billy Kimber would've put in his brain.

For a moment she considered not going anywhere, simply sitting down on someone's pavement so she wouldn't have to deal with anything. 

If she only could, she'd ask God to allow her man to be alive when she got home, she couldn't, asking Him to save a man like Tommy felt like blasphemy or a joke of poor taste. There was no salvation for the Small Heath's devil, at least not from divine sources.

Swallowing the bitter taste of uncertainty, she walked home with a heavy heart. However, much for her surprise, Tommy stood at the front door, his eyes slightly widened at her awful state. Her throat burnt with the urge to cry as she dropped her heels and wrapped her arms around him, he winced in pain from the bullet hole in his chest, nevertheless, allowed her to hold him.

His name poured from her lips in quiet, relieved whispers. His attentive eyes were quick to capture every irregularity in her figure, bruised knuckles, teary eyes and bare foot. He had never seen her so broken.

"I was coming to pick you up," he explained, "what happened? Where were you?" 

Lifting her head from his shoulder, her still shaky hands hesitated in cupping his cheeks, resting on his shoulders instead. She negatively nodded and peeked at the wound under his coat.

"You're alive, that's all that matters," 

"What happened to you?" he insisted.

"Tommy, please," she breathed out, caressing the length of his arms, "not now, not fucking now," 

His jaw tightened as he fought the urge of arguing, he hated to have things hidden from him, but knowing he'd eventually find out anyway, he obliged to her wish.

Gently, his thumb met the eyelid of her wounded eye, "That's fucking bad," 

"I'll go to the pharmacy tomorrow, they'll give me something to get it better," she drawled, "now, tell me what happened," 

"...Danny whizz-bang is dead," was all Tommy deemed as relevant, guilt weighted heavily on the sergeant's voice, he was responsible for his soldiers' safety and he had failed Danny badly.

"Oh, darling," she muttered, "I'm so sorry," 

Looking away from her merciful eyes, he slightly nodded. Reaching for a cigarette from his silvery pack before saying, "We're at the Garrison now," 

"I'm not up for it, you can go back if you want," with a quick brush on his cheek, she entered home and in a quick decision, Tommy followed after, "I'll take a bath, then take a look at your bandages, who took the bullet out?" 

"Jeremiah," he drawled.

She nodded, glad someone gentle as the preacher looked after her husband when she wasn't able to. Heading to the bathroom, she only hoped the hot water would wash away the weight on her shoulders.

-

Rubbing her hands together, she watched the quiet street through the window, every now and then a lonely citizen walked past and this was all keeping her from dissociating.

The bath wasn't of great help, the relaxation it brought also lowered the adrenaline, making her muscles and wounds ache. A knot tightened on her throat as she tried to convince herself everything was fine. Everything was fine, Tommy was alive, no one was after them anymore, nothing else mattered, nothing.

The door suddenly opened, making her jump. Tommy entered the bedroom with a towel on his shoulder, his bare torso was still wet from his bath and he moved slowly, careful to not get his injury bleeding.

Attentively, she noticed his mind was far away from there, a pout decorated his lips and his brow was tense. Eager to sooth his worries, she whistled the stereotypical catcalling sound. 

"Hello, handsome," she weakly smiled.

Lifting his eyes, a nearly nonexistent smile crept into his face, "Quit that," 

She walked to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, "Do you come here often?" 

"In my bedroom?" he chuckled, "Yeah, quite often," 

She took advantage of his momentarily good humor to take a look at his wound. Before she could avoid it her eyes got filled with tears, she had nearly lost him today, not all the killing she was able to commit would've brought him back if she'd done so, he'd be gone, simple as that.

"D'you want to tell me what happened now?" Tommy cupped her face, trying to distract her.

"...I love you, Tom," was all she was able to mutter.

"I know, and I love you," 

Slightly nodding, she sighed, "What now?" 

"Well, I-" he hesitated, "I thought of opening a club in London," 

"About Danny," she sat at the end of the bed, "what about his family?" 

"We'll help them, financially," Tommy explained.

"Get his children a job?" 

"No, no more business for the Owens," he sighed, "they'll be normal, his children will never know why he died," 

Hearing his words, her throat tightened, a heavy feeling settled in her chest. Did the woman she killed had children? When she first got into the Garrison Tommy found out she did, but that was before they ever suspected she was a copper, how much of everything she said was lies? How would her child react to knowing its mother was dead on train tracks? 

Tommy watched his fiancée's state with pity in his eyes, he hated her stubbornness at the same time he was well aware of how much they were alike. Both closed off before trouble, hating to burden the other with issues they deemed personal. 

"You know, eventually you'll have to tell me what happened,"

Her watery eyes met his and she pulled him to stand between her legs, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on the soft skin of his stomach.

Gently, he petted her hair away from her face and his rough fingers on her face brought some relief, still, she felt like a wounded beast. A wounded beast is still a beast and she'd forever be a murderer regardless of Tommy's acceptance.

"Tell me, eh?" he whispered.

"Tommy, I-" before she could answer, three knocks on the door interrupted.

Arthur entered the bedroom with a worried expression, "Tommy, hm, I just wanted to tell you we found the body of that barmaid in the train tracks, Johnny Dogs wants to know if he should get rid of it," 

She froze, eyes widened at the news, she was so deep into her own guilt she didn't even think about the further consequences.

Tommy switched a look between her and his brother, with a slight nod, he ordered, "Get rid of it," 

Small Heath had another murderer to call resident, there was no way of hiding it now.

[ikimaru]

when and how did you find your art style? has it changed much over time?

I'm gonna go on a tangent here bc it's pretty interesting for me to look back on aksjd

I don't think it was really linear in a point A to point B kinda way, I still got it more or less where I wanted it to but I can't say it felt streamlined

my first fandom was pokemon anime, so I was 100% set on learning that style first bc that was fun to me, instead of learning basics or anything I went right in and learned how to draw humans in that style, then I got into Death Note so I had to learn an entirely different style bc the previous one didn't help at all, I didn't stick with it very long tho because THEN I got into vocaloid and various anime and more colorful characters so it was pretty much the huge eyes - dot nose style for a while

*then* I got tumblr and this site was very.. overwhelmingly cartoon-oriented so I quickly took an interest in cartoony styles and learned the style which I used between 2011-2016 pretty much, I think that was the first one where I could be like "it's mine" bc I was actively figuring out things I liked and putting my spin on them and it was so fun

but by the time I got into vld I wanted it to be more more complex so I was focusing more on learning lighting, anatomy and making the faces less cartoony annd I really wish I tackled the style of faces differently and I didn't end up hating drawing for several years in the process without even realizing it BUT Anyway

with gnshn last year is when I finally started compiling all the things I liked about drawing again from past styles and also new things so I can all combine it together at last, which is something I haven't done in huh 6(??)+ years.. ughhh lmao I really had to stop and be like "what do I WANT my art to look like?" and I'm still working on it

but yeah basically, it IS a lot more streamlined if you pick tutorials and go like that's a good™️ style to learn and go from there, instead of learning/unlearning things over and over like I did, I don't regret learning the previous styles tho, each of them were what I wanted out of it at the time, but there was a learning curve every single time

anyway your art path is your own whether you choose to get better in the faster way possible or do detours or something else, once you have a set of things that feel personal to you in how you draw them and you can comfortably use that to draw whatever u want to, you'll just know, it doesn't have to happen asap c:

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

undercover bait | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

tw: criminal minds type case. use of the words (killer, rapist, whore. mentions of killing and blood) 3K

it was weird for spencer to see you fashioned in non-work attire. dressed in a baby pink mini dress that hugged to your figure with ruffles at the bottom, your back was open and you had a plunging neckline. sparkly heels that gave you a few extra inches and a small pink clutch, your hair was styled along with your usually bare face that was now dolled up from jj’s help. your eyes were smoky and seductive, a more than natural blush to the apples of your cheeks and your lips were glossed and shiny. spencer’s eyeline kept bouncing between your lips and lower, he wanted to fight his brain.

“well hot damn,” derek stood beside him. he gave a low whistle as you waltzed into the conference room of the local las vegas police station. there was a string of assaults and murders along a street of packed clubs, there was too many bodies so the bau was sending in unsub bait, and you happened to be picked.

“i wouldn’t be able to tell it’s you. looking like any other pretty girl partying the night away.” spencer saw how you rolled your eyes at the compliment. probably in a friendly teasing manner.

crossing your arms over your chest, oh gosh, and cocking a hip you tilted your head, “i wasn’t deserving of that nickname before, morgan?” asked with a fake pout. spencer doesn’t bother diverting his eyes, you pulled him into a trace. your beauty was something he wished could be for his eyes only.

he heard derek click his teeth, “oh we know you were, this one wouldn’t dare disagree. ain’t that right, pretty boy?” a nudge to spencer’s arm caused him to blink back to earth.

“what?” a deer in the headlights, his eyes were wide and he was frozen. derek smirked smugly at him while your sculptured brows furrowed in worry, “you okay?” stepping closer to him, your heels clicking on the linoleum.

his neck and ears felt warm, “uh yeah. yeah, just worried for you. not- not that something will happen, just that you’re usually away from the field and- and you’ve never done an undercover.”

spencer eyed your smooth lips as you rubbed them together, “it’s definitely new and nerve wracking, but if it’ll help the case that’s all that matters.” shrugging it off.

the way you tossed your life off made spencer frown, “your life comes before the case. if you feel unsafe, we’ll pull you out.” wanting you to understand that none of the team would put your life at risk, spencer especially. he’d keep you within reach of him if possible but he’s supposed to stay in the stakeout van.

you smiled prettily, it was extra nice with the blush, “i know. i trust you.” he hoped he wasn’t imagining the way you emphasized you. putting the trust of your wellbeing into his hands, it made his heart race.

“ready?” hotch entered the room and stopped beside you. his stone face nodding as you confirmed, “i’ll drop you off and pass over your earpiece. emily is already waiting at the bar, she’ll be your look out, when she locates him try and discreetly engage. flirt, be touchy, anything that’ll want him to draw you away.” you nodded along to the information. spencer felt his insides twist.

“when he leads you away, say ‘i’d like some fresh air’ and emily will also confirm. we’ll have all exits secured, no one comes or goes without us knowing.” he made sure that you knew you weren’t gonna be on your own. not a single hair on your head was gonna be harmed trying to take down this killer.

that thought made acid rise in spencer’s throat, they were sending you to a killer and a rapist. just one simple slip up and you could become another victim, spencer had to restrain himself from keeping the both of you locked away.

as everyone was walking to their respective cars he stopped you by taking ahold of your hand, his larger ones enveloping yours and it made his heart beat faster. “if- if you need some type of company just ask about a random fact. i’ll provide the answer.” he wanted to be with you every step of the process.

your fingers squeezed along his comforting, “thank you, spence.” you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, not needing to press onto your tiptoes. spencer closed his eyes and let his head lean into the touch, wanting to savor this moment.

a loud coughing pulled both of you from the safe bubble to see hotch with his arms crossed, “can we be professional?” his eyes mostly set on spencer, probably thinking about having him sit out.

“yes sir,” speaking for you both. you gave spencer’s hand one more reassuring squeeze before slipping free with hotch following a moment after.

-

“if you’re not comfortable, emily is fine doing it alone.” hotch spoke after ten minutes into the drive. the surveillance van drove the other direction and he’ll meet up with them after dropping you.

you fidgeted with his blazer that was thrown over your lap, “why does everyone keep telling me that?” mumbled to yourself. “do none of you believe i can do this?” eyes honed in on hotch’s side profile.

he looked to you briefly then back to the road, “it’s not that. we’re just worried, this wasn’t your training.” you barely passed self defense training, staying in the shadows was more your thing.

you scratched at your thumbs knuckle, “i just- i just feel i could be more valuable to the team. i- i don’t want to be the extra liaison then have you realize there’s no point for two.” you flattened your palms over your clothed knees.

“you may not see your importance for this unit, but you’re a glue helping us stay together. you’re more than an assist or liaison, your family and a beloved friend.” he rolled to a stop a store from the bar.

he held your earpiece in his open palm, “we just want to make sure you understand that it’s okay to put yourself first. there’s nothing wrong with changing your mind.” he spoke softly, a full sincerity dripping in his words.

you picked the small device from his hand, eyes meeting his shaded ones, “i can do this.” a slight hardness in your tone.

hotch just nodded in understanding, “just remember the code phrase for when he’s taking you outside. emily can jump in if needed.” back to ssa mode.

you took a deep exhale and grabbed your clutch, “is it okay if i have one drink on the job?” joking but also a bit serious. you need something to calm your nerves.

hotch raised a brow, “kidding. kidding.” you passed him back his suit jacket and pushed open the door, putting yourself in character as you stretched your bare leg out and pretended you were in a music video. shutting the door behind you, shimming your shoulders you strutted to the bar entrance.

“show time.”

-

“calm down, pretty boy. she’ll be fine.” derek’s words did nothing to comfort spencer’s racing mind. they only had access to one security camera and emily’s own eyes, you could easily slip through the crowd without any of them knowing.

spencer’s knees bounced, “just wish i could be in there as well. be back up.” his eyes stayed focused on your static figure near the end of the bar, leaning your chest in as you curved your back and kicked a foot in the air. he felt his mouth pull into a frown as he saw different men and women looking in your direction, a couple walking over to you at the bar.

derek hummed, “sure does look like she needs a man like you to protect her from those tipsy bar crawlers. you could split the free drinks she’s gonna accumulate.” he nudge an elbow into spencer’s bicep, “oh lighten up man. we all know your the only one on her mind, those chums don’t stand a chance.”

spencer kept his eyes focused on the screen. you had an arm propped up, pushing into your cheek as your head moved to survey the space.

“tell me about seahorses, spence.” your voice a whisper but clear enough to be heard over the loud music. spencer perked up, ignoring the judging eyes of rossi and morgan.

“well two most common facts are that male seahorses are the ones who carry out the pregnancy and they mate for life, one of the few species.” a hum was heard on their end. “also seahorses are the world's most uncommon species, and they have to eat all the time.”

it went silent on your end, they could see you turning your back to the bar with a drink in hand as you scoped out the room. then emily’s voice crackled to life, “leather jacket with the guns and roses shirt. twelve o’clock.”

spencer’s eyes made quick work to spot their unsub. he stood a bit off to the side of the crowded floor, a beer bottle in his hand that he lifted to his lips for a minute then back down. he stuck close to the shadows, bits of him being highlighted by overhead lighting, even through the fuzzy imagine spencer was able to spot the moment his eyes landed on you.

“he’s heading in your direction, y/n.” derek reported over the mic so you could prepare for the approaching man. the monitor showed your back straightened as you curled your body into a more provocative stance, the unsub sliding into the open space between you.

spencer and derek could hear your end of the conversation, the flirtatious tone sweetening your words mixed together with a soft feminine laughter that stirred butterflies in spencer’s stomach. he took a deep swallow when he saw you place a palm to the man’s bicep, he had to clench his hands into fist on his lap.

“your girl is doing good out there,” derek praised your show. spencer proudly took that title to heart, his girl. “i know, just don’t like having her within reach of a killer.”

“i’d love some fresh air.” the code phrase causing everyone to hurry to position. spencer went with derek to a back alley exit while hotch and emily were stationed for the front, local cop’s canvas the block.

“everyone in position?” hotch’s voice echoed over the radios. derek radioed back, “ready,” and now they just had to wait for the both of you to exit the bar.

after five minutes they knew something went wrong in that quick exchange. “anyone have eyes on, l/n?” hotch’s stern voice wavered just a bit through everyone’s earpieces.

“i lost her in the crowd,” emily’s worried tone as her breath sounded just a bit airy. spencer could feel his heart crawling up his throat, ready to spill onto the ground.

you’re mia with a killer rapist.

-

everything was in a blurry haze, a sharp pain stabbing behind your eyes all the way to the back of your skull. your eyelids were weighted down, it took so much concentration just to peel them open so you can find your surroundings. your limbs were heavy, you could barely lift a finger.

the space was dark except for a single hanging light in the middle of the space, a harsh yellow glow only highlighting a small circle of area. it looked to be a basement of sorts, barren of furniture except for the bed you were laying on and a wooden table off to the side. you tried rolling off the mattress but stopped short by the chains wrapped to your wrist and ankles.

“finally awake. worried i used a bit too much before i could have my fun.” a deep voice hidden in the dark corners.

the chains clinked together, “wha- where are we?” your flight or fight starting to activate, and you can’t even choose either option. “jason, what is this?”

it was silent for a beat, just your heavy breathing then you heard deep footsteps that carried the unsub into the fluorescent light. “your team must think i’m real stupid to not notice what this was. a fucking trap, well jokes on you, you’re my next victim.” his hands jumping out to grab your throat in a tight hold, restricting your airway. your body twisting unlessly in an attempt to escape his hold.

“you’ll just be another dead whore that i rip and shred to pieces, not a single piece of your body left behind for the fucking fbi to find. just another unsolved case, another hole to-“

jason was cut off by someone yanking him from behind. you took gulping inhales that brought a harsh coughing to your damaged throat. a shadow loomed over you and you whimpered in fear, “no, no, no. ple- please.” starting to sob in terror of whatever horror will be brought to you.

“it’s spencer, love. it’s just me, i’m gonna uncuff you now.” you kept your eyes squeezed shut as you hear the small click of the cuffs being undone and peeled away from your irritated skin. you immediately curled into yourself, needed to be as small as possible.

“we have emts coming right now.” a soft, gentle voice spoke near you, it brought a warmth to you compared to that icy chill from earlier. a touch to your bicep caused you to flinch and cause more tears to fall.

“it’s spencer, he’s gone. we need to get you checked out.” he kept his voice low, tucking his arms close to his chest in fear of startling you more. your eyes slowly peeked out and stared the doctor down, “spence…” his name weak on your tongue.

he smiled shakily, “yeah, love. it’s me, he’s in custody now.” spencer shook off his fbi jacket and held it open for you, “you must be cold. why don’t we go upstairs?” he helped your arms through and zipped you up.

spencer protectively led both of you out into the red and blue lights surrounding the property, he tucked you closer when swat and officers walked past or stared at the both of you.

one of the emts greeted you both and asked for you to lay down on the bed in the back, she shined a light over your eyes causing you to groan at the sharp pain it caused. “looks like you have a concussion and your throat is gonna be sore for about a week with bruising to follow. keep an eye on her, take her to the hospital if she starts vomiting or passing out.” giving the advice to spencer then leaving you both alone.

“why don’t we head back to the hotel? they can handle everything from here.” spencer’s thumb rubbed softly against your makeup rosy cheek. you nodded, “pro- probably best.”

-

the shower was scorching, you needed to rub yourself raw to rid his filthy touch from every inch of skin. the running water was cloudy and muddy from dirt and your foundation then finally turned clear with bubbles of body wash circling the drain.

a knocking on the door snapped you from your spiral, “you doing okay?” spencer’s concerned words made you swallow harshly to reply back, “yeah. almost done.” you could feel a few tears mixing with the running water.

the small hotel bathroom was well steamed up, the little fan barely doing anything. you toweled off your hair then quickly wiped your body down before throwing on your giant sleep shirt and plaid shorts. you wiped a hand on the mirror to see your red eyes watching you, judging you.

why’d you think this was something you could do? you’re a media liaison, not a fucking behavior analysis agent. sure you want to be more involved with cases moving forward, but this taught you that field work wasn’t something you were cut out for. if it was emily or elle they would’ve been able to find a way out and save themselves, but you just laid there and pleaded for your life, just like those other girls before.

numbly you exited the bathroom, strands of damp hair wetting your cotton. spencer sat on the foot of the bed, his head bent and hands folded into his lap. he looked up just as you moved to sit beside him, your back was rod straight until you just slumped into yourself and leaned your head onto his shoulder. everything just poured out.

“i- i- i could’ve di- died.” you felt spencer shift and wrap his arms behind your shoulders while yours held tightly to his waist. “i- i don’t want to do- do that to you.”

“i know you don’t,” he whispered beside your ear, “and i’m sorry he got past us, luckily hotch sewed a tracker into your dress and garcia found it quickly.”

“i- i didn’t want to be his next victim. is- is that selfish?”

“no, absolutely not. those other girls didn’t know about him so they couldn’t properly defend themselves, but you didn’t. you know what he’s capable of.” spencer placed a kiss to your temple, “and i selfishly wouldn’t want you to be another victim. i’d never forgive myself.”

you leaned your head away to look into his soft brown eyes, “it wasn’t your fault. i agreed to doing it.”

his large palm caressed your cheek, “but i should’ve tried harder to- to be a second watch or- or something. i should’ve done more.”

“hey,” your fingers circled his wrist, “don’t blame yourself. let’s- let’s not go back and forth on what we should’ve done. i’m alive and in your arms, i love you and we have another day together.” turning to kiss the heel of his palm.

“okay,” spencer whispered. he leaned in slowly, wanting you to take the lead for your comfort. your lips touched gently at first, a small lingering peck before you pushed in and let your lips wrap around spencer’s more firmly. you let yourself melt into his touch, feeling at peace for the night.

you gave him one more solid kiss, “why don’t we get some sleep?” spencer nodded and the both of you quickly made yourselves comfortable in the bed, spencer’s back to the door as he pulled your back close to his chest with his arms keeping you secure. “i got you, love. i’m always here for you.”

-

a/n: be honest, when i write longer fics do they seem messy halfway through?

[moonstruckme]

i don’t know if this is something you might feel comfortable with writing but could you do something like any of the marauders or poly!marauders where they have a moment of misogyny. it could be towards reader or just in general during a conversation. i think it’s really interesting considering their time period isn’t really that progressive yet.

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Three days ago, you’d decided to go on strike. Three days, and now the sink is completely full of disgusting, almost-smelly dishes with food still crusted to them. 

Sirius simply doesn’t do dishes. Ever. You’re not sure if it’s some kind of rich boy syndrome where he thinks he just puts them in the sink and then later they magically disappear, but the assumption that he doesn’t have to clean up after himself is really starting to grate on your nerves. 

You have to remind yourself that Sirius is a great boyfriend. For the most part, you like living with him, you really do. He brings you home sweets after he gets off work, he gives you lazy massages while you sit watching TV at night, and you may be biased, but you think he’s generally a delight to have around. 

So for a while, you tried to tell yourself that it was worth having to do a few extra dishes. You love him, and he loves you, and there’s no reason to rock the boat, right? You could do this extra thing for him, just like he does so many for you. But eventually, it was the lack of appreciation that got to you. 

When Sirius takes his plate to the kitchen after dinner, you keep your voice light as meringue. “Would you mind washing that, please?” 

“Why?” 

Ire flares to life faster than you knew it could. You think your eye twitches. 

“Why?” you repeat.

“Yeah.” Sirius turns to look at you over the kitchen counter, and the confusion is so plain on his face that it mollifies you slightly. “Can’t you do it?” 

“Why would you assume I’m going to do it?” 

He shrugs. “Because you like cleaning stuff, right?” 

You force yourself to breathe in and out through your nose, but despite your best intentions, the words come out with a sharp edge. “Not really.” 

Sirius actually blinks in surprise. “Oh. But I thought…you’re always saying Sunday is relaxing for you because it’s your cleaning day.” 

“That’s because I like to have things be clean, Sirius. Not because I like cleaning.” 

“Oh,” he says again, seeming somewhat lost. “Okay, I’ll just…wait, is that why all these dishes are in the sink? Have you been trying to tell me something?” 

“Those are all yours.” You’re burning through your fury fast, and you know what will be left after it’s used up. But you’re not going to cry about this. You will not. 

“I didn’t realize.” Sirius looks up at you, a crease forming between his brows. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, I had no idea. I just thought you liked doing them yourself.” 

“It’s fine,” you say, but it’s not, and your voice is taking on a slight wobble despite your determination to keep it out. “I just…I wish you wouldn’t have assumed that I’d always do them for you. It kind of hurt my feelings that you never asked, or said thank you.” 

“Aw, baby.” Sirius sets his plate down, coming around the counter. He hesitates a second, looking back at the pile. “I’m going to do those in a second, okay?” he reassures you before crossing the rest of the distance to where you sit on the couch. “I’m so sorry, gorgeous. I’m an idiot.” 

You nod up at the ceiling, blinking to keep your tears from falling. 

A ring-clad hand finds your shoulder, thumb rubbing into your collarbone. “Hey, just let it out.” 

“No, I’m still—” you draw in a breath, and a tear slips down your cheek. “I’m still mad at you. Just ignore this. I don’t want to cry when we’re in a fight.” 

“We don’t have to be in a fight,” he suggests. “I’m sorry for all of it, I was totally in the wrong. I didn’t mean to make you feel…baby, hey, would you look at me?” 

You take a deep breath before you do, more tears falling as soon as gravity allows them. You try to ignore them, but Sirius sets a hand to each cheek, thumbing them away. He looks miserable, lips pressed into a thin line to hide his own discontent. 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated,” he says softly. “I do appreciate you. You do so many sweet things every day, and I appreciate them so much. But you’re right, I wasn’t appreciating how you were cleaning my dishes for me. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.”

It all feels really good to hear. Part of you wants to let him go on, but you have too many questions to stay quiet. “You never did your own dishes before, did you?” 

His eyes drop to your shoulder, embarrassed. “No. I guess it might have been my mother, or we had some, like, help” —his face contorts as if the word tastes bitter in his mouth— “but I actually never asked who did them. Pretty fucked, huh?” You agree, but you play it down with a one-shouldered shrug. Sirius seems like he’s feeling guilty enough without your help. “And then in my last place, it was just James and I, so we used pretty much paper everything. No dishes to clean.” He shakes his head at himself, dismayed. “I never even thought about it. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I put that on you without even thinking.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. Then, at the look he gives you, “Okay, it wasn’t before, but I think it can be now. It was…a tad inconsiderate, but now you know, right?” 

He nods determinedly. “Now I know. Promise.” 

“And now you’re not just going to assume every woman in your life will do the housework for you?” 

Despite your teasing tone, Sirius brings a hand to his face, his head lolling back despondently. “Fuck. I’m a real piece of shit, huh?” 

“You were acting like one,” you say laughingly, reaching forward to give him an affectionate shake by the shoulder, “but you’re not.” 

When he tilts his head towards you again, hair falling in his eyes, there’s still evidence of guilt lining his features but he seems to be trying to get back to his usual levity. He pouts at you, taking your face back between his hands. His rings are cool against your skin. “I can’t believe I made you cry because I’m too much of a prick to do my own dishes.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to cry.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I don’t want your pity, Black.” 

Sirius’ pout worsens, his thumbs stroking over your cheeks. “I can’t help it. You did weeks of unpaid labor.” He kisses the skin above your nose tenderly. “My sweet girl. You should have told me earlier.” 

Your face warms a bit under his hands. “I did sort of take the petty route by letting your dishes pile up.” 

“I’ve earned some petty treatment,” he says firmly. “You should have let my dishes pile up from the first day I moved in. You should have put them in my room so I’d have to ask about them. In my bed, under the sheets.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Jesus, I’m not that cruel. That’d be disgusting.” 

“I know, baby,” Sirius laughs, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. “That’s because I’m the petty one. You’re just in training.”

[thecynthh]

a little ink - C.S

summery - y/n is journaling in bed but chris gets bored of his phone and begins to play around with y/n's stationary.

notes - fluff <33333, chris is so boyfriend, i thought the fandom needed more fluff, short

a/n - hey yall, this is an apology gift because ive been bad on being active and writing so enjoy this lil thing i whipped up.

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

i stationed myself on my side of the large bed with a little tray table on top of my bare legs. my shorts barely covered up to my mid thigh so the vent near me was absolutely chilling. i begin to go slowly when i'm trying to write a title for my next page, i began to journal when my boyfriends brother and my therapist recommended it to me, despite how simple matt’s was, I thought i could take it up a notch and make it a little cutesy. 

my pencil case was jam packed with highlighters, colourful pens and high quality markers, my concentration stays strict on the page in front of me, i tried to keep my penmanship neat while i'm trying to write something in cursive. a warm hand wraps around my ankles as i look down beside me seeing chris look at me with want in his eyes. “hi chris,” i simply say looking at the boy while i put the cap back onto my brush tip marker. 

“hi baby,” he looks up at me with a beaming bright smile, he just radiates good energy and love. he drops his phone beside him now playing a song instead of the various audios from tiktok. 

his hand sneaks up into my pencil case grabbing a yellow marker from it. he uncaps it and i feel the light pressure of it press down onto my skin, the yellow marker glides along my scar, he continues to draw past it to make a star out of the previously hurt skin. chris knew i was self conscious about my scars, it was a permanent reminder of the pain i went through in highschool. 

he didn’t care though. he continued to draw random doodles on my leg, moving on to my arms where more scars lay hurt, he switched out his marker for a different colour the more he explored. little hearts, stars and chris’ signature riddle my legs and arms, i feel his writing getting a bit faster. It looks like a sentence but i couldn’t quite read it.

 i stopped what i was doing a long time ago, now just admiring what he was doing. he was so focused on writing his signature on the larger line of a scar i had on my arm using the line from my body to represent the line through the dollar sign he always made whenever he wrote his name. 

he does a very magnificent heart beside his name, filling it in still trying to be very soft on  my skin as the ink seeps in. he plants a fulfilling kiss onto the scar now covered in orange ink, he looks up at me with a little bit of a knowing look painted on his face. “im sorry, it was only meant to be a little ink but your scars are beautiful, as is the rest of you.” his finger underlines the sentence imprinted on my skin as he reads it out. 

“chris i'm gonna cry oh my gosh. you are so cute, you know that?” i saw trying to hold back a sob. 

a chuckle escapes his smiley lips “i love you so much y/n” his lips make contact with the star that started the rest of the pseudo tattoos. i wish i could keep this image in my head forever, because this was a moment too precious to let go of.

taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem73

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve was doing this for Robin.

He had to keep telling himself this. He could get through the day, the weekend, life, if he just kept repeating this to himself.

But an hour into their day, his pants ripped.

Not in a place it can be hidden, not a small one.

Right along his ass.

And because Robin insisted he’d be fine, he didn’t bring a bag with a change of clothes.

He could buy some, sure, if he wanted to spend $60 on special convention sweatpants that would be entirely too hot, unflattering, and ruin the costume Robin insisted he wear to match hers.

He was hiding in the bathroom currently, furiously texting Robin to let her know he was just going to stay there until it was time to leave.

She’d be mad at him, but she’d be more mad at herself for not letting him bring a change of clothes.

His pants weren’t even tight. Luke Skywalker doesn’t exactly wear tight clothes. He had no reason behind the rip other than the universe just hating him as much as possible.

Robin told him she would find someone to help, whatever that means, but he didn’t think that was possible without just buying new pants.

He stood in the corner of the continuously crowded bathroom, trying not to draw attention, but knowing it was incredibly odd to just stand in the corner of a public bathroom.

Ten minutes passed and a guy walked in with a backpack and a sign that says “Free Cosplay Repair” and Steve knew what Robin had done.

The man was pretty, and not dressed up, but seemed like he wished he was. Maybe it was difficult to repair if he was wearing some elaborate costume.

Steve didn’t know how this worked.

“Are you Steve?”

Steve nodded.

His voice was calming, and Steve instantly trusted him to fix the problem.

“Heard you’ve got a bit of a problem with the costume. Big or small?”

“Uh. Pretty big, man.”

“Ah. Tear along the ass, then. Happens all the time.”

He set his backpack down and started rummaging through the front pocket. When he pulled out a sewing kit, Steve realized he was going to have to get this fixed in a public bathroom with this very attractive man staring at and touching his ass for who knows how long.

“Um.”

“It’ll be better if you can take them off. I’ll be able to sew it much faster.”

Steve couldn’t just stand around in his boxers. That was not part of the plan or the agreement with Robin. People were coming and going from the bathroom at a rapid rate.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?”

“Awww, Stevie, feeling shy?”

Steve’s face was beet red. He was feeling a little shy, and being called out on it by a hot guy kind of made him think about being called out on other things in other ways and his brain was not doing well.

“My name’s Eddie. I come with my friend Chrissy to a bunch of these every year. We have a tent set up on the show floor for privacy, but you’d have to walk to it. I could walk behind you if you want?”

“Oh. Okay. Um. Sure.”

It was better than standing half naked in this bathroom.

So they left, and Eddie stayed right behind him, covering him from possible exposure to the growing crowd.

He would lean forward and direct him to the tent every few seconds, leaving goosebumps behind from how close he got to his ear to be heard.

When they arrived, Chrissy was finishing up with supergluing something to a mask. Eddie touched her shoulder and whispered something to her. She rolled her eyes and smiled at him before turning back to the person she was helping.

Eddie nudged Steve into their tent.

“Alright, shouldn’t take too long. Take them off, Luke.”

Steve rolled his eyes but followed directions. The faster this was done, the faster he could get back to Robin, who was probably so deep into the crowd by now that he’d never find her anyways.

Maybe he should just stay here. Learn to sew. Become a part of their traveling repair team.

They seemed nice enough.

Eddie got started immediately, and Steve was grateful for the privacy the tent provided. He sat down on a stool they had set up in the corner and put his hands in his lap, covering as much of himself as he could. He was definitely not confident in this place.

He’d embraced that he liked some nerdy things. He was fine with it.

But he was way out of his element here.

“You come to these a lot?”

“No. Just supporting my friend.”

“Explains not being as prepared as the pros.”

“I did try to be. My friend said I’d be fine. Don’t know why I listened to her.”

Eddie snorted. “She a friend or a…friend?”

Steve laughed so loudly, Eddie jumped. “Sorry. She’s very much not straight and I am very much not interested.”

“Is she Leia?”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone will assume you’re together, you know?”

“Yeah, well. She said I had to and I owed her.”

“Must’ve done you a big favor.”

“You could say that.”

Eddie’s hands were moving quickly, and Steve couldn’t help watching in amazement.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“What? Sewing? Or conventions?”

“Both.”

Eddie smiled while he worked.

“Sewing since I was 11. I was in charge of fixing my and my uncle’s clothes since we couldn’t really afford new ones unless I outgrew them. Then in high school I did costumes for drama and cheerleaders. That’s how I met Chrissy. She was a secret nerd so she took me to a convention and I saw too many people crying over broken and torn cosplays so I started doing this.”

“For free?”

“Yeah. I already had most of the supplies on hand and I’m not using them all so why not?”

“That’s really…kind.”

He saw Eddie’s cheeks blush, but he didn’t comment.

Maybe he’d gain some upper hand here despite being half naked in a tent with a stranger.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It kind of is, man. Just take the compliment. It’s really selfless.”

“Okay. Yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

They settled into a comfortable silence and Steve really took in the tent. There were things hanging up that he vaguely recognized as D&D monsters from Dustin’s room.

“Hey, the kid I babysit is into that.”

“What?”

“The dungeons game.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I think he even has that exact print in his room.”

“No shit? I made these. I have an Etsy shop.”

“You’re kidding. He’s gonna freak out that I met you.”

“Well, shit. Take one for him.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah you could. I’m not letting you leave until you do.”

Steve felt his heart flutter.

Dustin was like his little brother and he loved him so much. Any time someone did something kind for him, it melted his heart.

He didn’t have time for feelings for a stranger.

Not at a convention where he was the outcast.

“I guess if you insist.”

“I do.”

Steve was a fucking mess. Emotionally, he was the type to get really attached really quickly. It’s why all of his relationships ended within weeks. He was ready to be completely committed and they never were. He fell hard and fast for anyone who showed him even a tiny bit of interest.

He had to get out of this tent.

“I’m not rushing you, but how much longer?”

“I’m almost done. Few more minutes. Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanna find Robin.”

“Text her to meet you here. She knows where it is.”

“How would she know that?”

“I’ve met her a few times at other conventions and she always stops by to say hello.”

Robin knew this guy?

Suddenly, he realized what was going on.

She was setting him up.

“Take your time. She can wait.”

Eddie slowed his hands and looked up at Steve.

“Uh. Okay.”

“She’s a traitor who did this to me on purpose.”

“Ripped your pants?”

“Yes.”

Eddie stopped what he was doing completely.

“She ripped your pants on purpose? How would she have done that?”

“She pulled a seam out or something.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s trying to set us up.”

“Us?!”

“Yep. Sorry. I promise I don’t expect anything. She just does this sometimes. Thinks I’m lonely or whatever.”

Eddie searched his face for a minute, then looked back down at his work.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Lonely.”

Well, yeah. Robin didn’t get the assumption from nowhere. But he didn’t really want to admit that to a stranger.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Apparently, he was going to anyways.

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“Mhm.”

Steve huffed out a breath.

Eddie stood suddenly and came over to Steve, pushing his shoulder back and his legs apart so he could fit between them.

Eddie’s hand cupped his chin, pulling it up so he could look at him.

Steve gulped.

He was feeling more than vulnerable at this point and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Your friend must really love you to want to make sure you aren’t lonely.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“You know, I’m taking a lunch break in about an hour if you wanna hang around. I could use some company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. One condition though.”

“What’s that?”

“You take the pants off again.”

Steve laughed and Eddie couldn’t help the smile he aimed down at him.

“You want me to eat in just my boxers?”

“Well, not just your boxers. That’ll be later at the hotel.”

God, this guy was good. Smoother than Steve’s ever been and he was known for his charming nature for years.

“You think I’ll come back to your hotel?”

“I know you will.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I only temporarily fixed these pants. The stuff you need is back at my room.”

“What if I don’t care about the pants?”

“All the more reason to leave them off when you come to my room.”

They smiled at each other.

Steve felt brave. He felt a little ridiculous. Most of all, he felt like he couldn’t pass up the opportunity literally staring him in the face.

He leaned up a bit more and waited for Eddie to lean down.

When their lips met, Steve knew he was completely fucked.

Robin had fucked him over and he’d never been so grateful.

[googleitlol]

This oneshot is more the length I thought the other one would be, a little under 2500 words. Hope it packs just as much emotion in it, enjoy!

TW: Dead Dove, severe burns

Dove Masterlist:

Samadhi

How on earth did things end up like this?

“Hey.” Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, looks down to his left to see his engaged. His beloved Dove gives him a worried look as she puts a hand on his shoulder. She looks stunning, she always does. “Something is on your mind, Peaches.”

The two of them stand on his somersault cloud, Wukong’s arm is wrapped around Dove’s waist to keep her close so they can both fit on the soft platform. It moves slowly to their destination where others wait for their arrival. He could make the cloud go faster, but he doesn’t want to. He can’t help how fear grips his heart in anticipation for what they are about to attempt. “It’s nothing.”

“Over a decade we’ve been on this journey together, and you think you can still lie to me?” She frowns, her expression more annoyed than anything else. It shifts back to worry as her hand shifts up to hold the side of his face. “We’re supposed to confide in each other, My Love.”

Sun Wukong hums with a small smile, though he can’t hold the facade when she gives him that concerned look. Amidst these last twelve years, she’s become one of the few people that can read him like a book. “I just want this to work. I can’t stand seeing you like this.” His free hand reaches out to her outstretched arm that holds his face. He’s gentle as he encloses his fingers over the wraps that envelop her arms, his thumb brushing back and forth over the material. Wukong has seen the bandaging over her abdomen, the burns that scar her hands. Despite it all, the mortal he’s promised his life to smiles.

“How could it not? I know you three can do this.” Dove reassures him, the fire in her eyes bright as he leans into her touch.

He just has to tell himself this is it. It’ll be over after this. “How is it healing?”

Her hand retracts, and Wukong lets go of her arm so she can inspect it herself. “I’ve taken care of enough burns to know what I’m doing.” She laughs a little, maybe to make light of the injuries. When she looks up to see his furrowed brows, she sighs. “Maybe in a few days, after Iron Fan and your brother have a few days with their boy, we can visit them for dinner. It’ll be nice to hold Red Son without the fear of him bursting into flame, hah.”

“Red-Brat is more like it.” The sage mumbles under his breath, earning him a light slap on his armoured chest.

“Wukong!” Dove scolds with a sharp glare, and he lets out a chuckle.

That baby could burn her a thousand times, and she’d still defend him with her life. “I know, I know, he’s just a kid.” He can’t help the smile that finds its way onto his face, he loves seeing her jump to his nephew’s defence like that. Gods, never would he think someone could hold compassion for another that does them harm. Wukong will always love her for that compassion.

Despite her wounds, his engaged has held a soft spot for the boy since the moment he was born. With how destructive Red Son’s fire is, Dove’s ability to soothe the infant quickly became a crutch that pained him to see used. Wukong still doesn’t understand her patience, not when the baby nearly kills her as an everyday occurance. Still, she showers Red Son with love. He only wishes she had been that forgiving when they first met. It would have spared him a massive headache.

“Look at me.” Dove’s voice draws him back to the present, the determined look in her eyes captivating his attention. “It’s going to work.”

Even with the soothing presence of her gift, he doesn’t need it to ease his worries. Not when the confidence in her voice puts his troubles to rest. “I know it will.” As he speaks, she leans up to place a kiss over his forehead. “I can’t worry when I have you with me.”

Her smile is warm when she looks up at him. “I love you, Peaches.”

“I love you, Dove.” Wukong pulls her closer to his side, and his beloved rests her head on his shoulders.

Dove breathes a content sigh, her eyes focused on the sky ahead. “Maybe after this, we can ask Sanzang for a little break? We could visit Flower Fruit, spend some alone time together.”

Wukong hums with a small laugh. “Alone time sounds nice… y’know, with all the other monkeys crowding around us to get a look at their soon-to-be Monkey Queen.”

“Hah! I can’t wait to meet them properly.” She smiles, and Wukong looks down to take in what he can of her features. He can’t wait for when they retrieve those scriptures and they can go home, to stay. When this journey started, all he wanted was to be free from the burden of helping the monk and his cranky companion, but she changed that. Now, all he wants is to wake up each morning with Dove by his side, so he can take in those features in dawn’s light in their home.

“It’s settled, then.” He sighs before turning his attention back to the route ahead. “We’ll visit the little guys tonight. Master should be fine for one night without us.”

“With our luck, don’t jinx it.” That gets him to laugh. He supposes Dove is right, he shouldn’t say anything to risk their chances of a battle-free night. When she lets out a soft exhale, Wukong can feel himself relax just a bit more. “I can’t wait to get a proper tour of my new home with you.”

~~~~

It was supposed to be simple. Split the fire and find someplace to hide his own ring. Easy as that.

DBK won't have to deal with his home burning down every other day and call Dove to calm down his hot-tempered son. Sun Wukong admits, the kid is cute when he isn’t burning everything to the ground. Dove is so fond of him, how can he not like the little guy? Still, he hates every time she’s asked to help him. Dove has been burnt in her efforts to tame his flame, and relying solely on her to ensure a little kid doesn’t destroy the world isn’t a viable option anymore. Nor is it one he’s comfortable with.

The air is heavy among all who stand with the sage. Sun Wukong stands in a circle with his master, the Demon Bull King, and the Third Lotus Prince, Nezha, with the baby Red Son engulfed in flames in the centre of them all. The Monkey King’s brothers, Wujing, Ao Lie and Bajie all stand behind their master, and Dove stands a few paces behind to her Peaches’ right. She has to be on standby in case the separation fails, but it won’t. Like Dove said, this is going to work.

His master steps forward and taps his staff against the drawn out circle on the ground. “For the Samadhi Fire to be split into three, you must harmonise your energies.” He instructs, and the three chosen all look to one another with a nod.

The circle lights up, illuminating with life as it begins. The glow from the markings on the ground encapsulates Wukong’s vision, blinding his peripherals so that all he can focus on is the ring that begins taking form in front of his hands.

It’s a little surprising, how it feels at first. Wukong isn’t sure what he was expecting, but he thought there’d be more… pain involved? Maybe it’s because he can only feel a third of the fire feeding into the ring that takes shape in front of him, but it’s a little underwhelming. He’s taken the brunt of the Samadhi Fire before, he knows it can hurt, but this? Sure, he can feel the heat of the flames pretty strongly, but it's nothing he can't handle. It’s no wonder he was chosen as one of three that could withstand it. Maybe Nezha is having more trouble than him, the lotus prince has always been a bit of a baby compared to the other immortals he knows.

There’s a few flames that lash out more than the others, but it’s easy enough to keep them under control. “You know, this is kind of easier than I thought it would be.” He laughs a little, and that’s when his focus slips. That’s when it all goes wrong.

A flame lashes out as the baby in the centre shouts, and fire shoots out towards the three rings. The sheer force knocks Wukong onto his knees. The other two ring-bearers in the circle shout out at the sage, too late to stop a wave of fire that spews out in every direction. His dragon brother, Ao Lie, is quick to respond to flames that hurtle towards their master and takes a hit head-on. The Monkey King is quick enough to jump back to his feet and take this next hit easily.

But then he hears her scream.

Wukong freezes, Dove’s voice shooting ice through his veins. His eyes shoot wide at the sound of his worst fears coming to life. “Dove!” He hears Wujing call out to his love before heavy steps rush to her location just out of his view.

He moves to turn his head before she shouts. “NO! Don’t– haa… Don’t look, don’t let him…” She shouts out, her voice twisting in anguish, “Don’t stop, Peaches! The ring is almos–” She can’t even finish the sentence before letting out another shrill scream.

Every bone in his body is pleading for him to turn around, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to. His heart is thundering in his chest, fear claws at his skin as he begs himself to focus on the rings. She won’t stop screaming, she won’t stop screaming–

“Dove?! Dove!!” She can’t answer him, can she even hear him?! Gods, he can’t see her! His eyes shut tight, and he fights every fibre of his being not to abandon the ritual and run to her side as Bajie and Wujing shout from behind.

“It won’t go out!”

“It can’t go out!”

Wukong shakes his head, their voices pushing him to the brink of madness. “Dove, please– hang on!” Help her, he needs to help her, shit, he has to move, she needs help! Help her, help her!!! She’s screaming, she isn’t stopping she won’t stop– she’s screaming! Even when she stops, he can still hear her screaming. Her voice rings in his ears.

When the rings fully form, Sun Wukong’s drops to the ground. He turns to run to his love, only to choke back a gasp when he sees her. The fire that had been burning its way up her body whisps away with the rings now complete. Left in their wake and in the arms of Wujing is a limp body.

The sight of her alone is nearly enough to send him falling back. Her entire lower half and right side of her body is covered in fourth degree burns. Her clothes are singed and melted into her skin, into her arms and torso. There’s muscle tissue visible in the meat of her hands and along her legs from where the fire had its fill. All over her body are contrasting amalgamations between charcoaled skin and raw pinks of every shade, even the white of bone pokes out from her right shoulder and knuckles.

“Dove!” He doesn’t waste another moment rushing to her side. Despite her injuries, the woman still breathes. Each inhale is laboured, every exhale pain from her burning lungs. Her voice barely carries to shout when he moves her from Wujing’s arms to his own. “No, no… no, no no no! Somebody help!”

His head whips around to those that now surround them, Demon Bull King hiding away his son’s face from them while Tripitaka rushes to their side. He gasps at the sight of his friend, his staff dropping with an echoing clang. “Master, please!” Wukong begs, his voice never before sounding so desperate.

His master crouches down slowly, his eyes never leaving her, his first companion on his journey. “They’re… they’re too severe.”

“The hell do you mean, too severe?!” Wukong snaps, but the monk can’t even move to flinch. “She’s dying! We have to do something!”

He looks back to Nezha, his brothers, anyone! “Please! There has to be something– we can’t–”

“Peaches…” He barely hears Dove, her voice holds only a shell of the life it did a mere hour ago. He looks down at his love, only now can he realise how blurred his vision is when he can barely make out her features. There’s tears streaming down her face, her eyes are open but unfocused.

Her breathing is ragged as Wukong holds her hand in his. “Shh, shh… it’s okay, Dove.” His voice cracks, he needs to comfort her. “Don’t try to say anything, we’re gonna help you. We–”

His head whips back up to the friends that have gathered around them. “We have to do something, now! Master, there has to be a way! Nezha, there must be something, I won’t let her die! Please!”

“Brother…” Bajie rests a hand on the sage’s shoulder, and Wukong snaps his head up to him. But his brother isn’t looking at him. His gaze is focused on Dove and–

He can’t feel her. That calming presence he’s so used to walking with every day. It’s gone. She isn’t breathing.

“…Dove?” Wukong checks for a pulse, but he finds nothing. His heart sinks. “Dove? Dove, please– Dove?! We said everything would be okay after this.” His voice feels strained, it’s throbbing, there's somethings choking him.

“Dove, don’t do this to me– please! Please!”

“Dove! Dove!”

The king throws his head back in outcry, his queen limp in his arms. His voice is bloodcurdling, his scream so visceral it shreds into every soul present. Wukong pulls the shell of his love into his chest and sobs, burying his head into her shoulder. Her body is warm, but it isn’t her warmth.

He can’t feel her. Why can’t he feel her in his arms anymore?! This isn’t what was supposed to happen, how could this happen? How on earth could things end up like this?! He was supposed to stop her from getting hurt! “Please, Dove… we’re visiting home tonight, remember?”

“…We’re going home tonight.”

[goldenshrikecomic]

Hello, this is gonna be a long one and I hope I don't bother you too much with it but you have something great going and and I think maybe some advice for someone like me who wants to do a longer comic and I took heart in that one ask you recently answered were you said you are plenty of pages ahead of the readers to not get paralysed by a deadline which seems like a no-brainer now that I read that with my own two eyes black on white but I had not thought to maybe go about it that way and I needed to have someone spell it out for me apparently. So to my question.. see, I have a skeleton of a story I have key scenes that need to happen and that I want to happen and I am sure in between things will shift and change and grow and a part of me can't wait for it to happen but- How do you start. How do you get going. It is in my head I have some written notes but most is in my head and I do not want it to remain there and rot I want to draw and tell the story I had in mind but I feel.. paralysed on the starting line of this journey and I am unsure how to go from there because my mind gets caught up in estimates of if I post one page a week that is "only" 52 pages. That seems so little. How many years would it take. Can I do this. And then my mind fires up in passion because I am willing to commit I want to do this I need to do this and I have a good idea of how to pace myself and how to go about it. I have the beginning of it on the back of my tongue and the tip of my fingers I can imagine it so vividly I wish I could animate it (if that wouldn't take up even more time and be insane I would) But somehow I still feel stumped on how to start. How to get over this first hurdle. It might be the executional dysfunction playing a huge part in it, maybe I am overthinking to much and stand in my way because of it, but like... How did you start your comic. How did your journey on GS begin? I know this was a bit of word vomit I am sorry but you are an inspiration and you seem to go about things (from what I could gleam from the asks) in a way that feels like it could work for me too and the way my brain functions but I do not know how to start? I dunno if it makes sense I am no english native and my thoughts are hard to put into words.

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while because it's such a loaded question. I have plenty of asks in this tag about my comicing process, so check them out maybe. This reply got lengthy! The more I wrote the more I noticed I feel very inadequate trying to give people tips on making comics. It's such a trial and error process.

I've seen plenty of advice for people wanting to start out comics to just start small, come up with a smaller story to get a feel of it before you go big. And I absolutely understand it in hindsight because I would've done many things differently if I had just tried it out first, but it's not what I did. I wanted to make a big comic, and a big comic I made, as my first project.

I don't think about the years these things take, but it'd absolutely ease your worries if you could come up with a simple style and be able to make pages faster. I've stripped my comic of shading and gotten more lenient with myself when it comes to backgrounds. You absolutely need to cut some corners if you want to make more than one story during your lifetime. It's a limited time afterall! Being able to turn your sketch into a lineart without having to redo everything with a careful hand would help a lot already. And colors, they take a lot of time.

This is not how I went about it in the beginning, but I'd love to tell you to write those things in your head down before you start. Leave holes, just write in what you know because you will forget some cool details if you keep them in. Write the starting point, middle and the end, even with just couple of words. Add things that interest you in the middle of those points. Do you want a sad arc for your character at some point? Write it in. Come up with what makes it happen. Weave it into the other scenes. If you know what's to come, you can add foreshadowing to the earlier scenes. Even if you didn't know what would come, you can take something from earlier scenes and make it foreshadowing. Writing is a fluid process. You can jump around and add things, you don't have to approach it by putting one block next to the other. Once you have the elements you want, you just have to tie those things together. It's the hard part. And you will change your mind about many things when you get to draw your characters and see them doing the things you've written.

The start! I always say it's the worst part, but I've started to think it might be the second worst. I think the worst part comes after you've started and worked for several ten pages on fumes and you finally run out of juice. Picking up after that is hard, for me at least. But if you can manage, it should get easier. You know your characters better by now, and they carry some of their own weight.

Make a canvas. Think about the scene you want to start your comic with. Night or day? Calm or busy? Just doodle, BIG and loose. Add some frames by just drawing lines, move things around, resize. What do you want to portray with the first page of your comic? I like to establish some of the world or atmosphere, and only then move on to the characters.

Don't try to be perfect, in fact leave that first canvas completely unpolished and move on to the next one. What should this page tell? Will you show the character? I'd leave the establishing shot of them as the last big panel. The rest of the page should build up to it. The last panel is important, it's a hook to turn the page.

Come back to polish those pages more only after you have a few of them done. The most important thing is to get yourself away from that first page, because the first page is scary. After five pages you can move things around and start adding ears to your spheres. You've started a comic now. You can go back to the first page and make it nice, because you already have opened the path to continue.

IT'S HARD. But it's rewarding. It's not for everyone but it's awesome if you can make it yours.