#i just have been so artistically burnt out and i think accidentally pushed myself there via the blog

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

Had a dream about finding someone did a surprise fanart for chaosbound, where they had been doing little fanarts for fanventures and ask blogs they'd enjoyed and they'd picked mine to touch on too... really nice dream, makes me wish I'd gotten further with chaosbound, enough for people to really enjoy at least

[naireides]

you drew stars around my scars

katara learns the story behind zuko's scar; coaxed into writing this by @hooksandheroics​ aka my zutara screaming partner

zutara week day 6: affirm rated G | wc: 2.2k read on ao3 here

affirm  /əˈfəːm/ offer (someone) emotional support or encouragement.

-

As with most things, it starts with Sokka.

“I got this one when I was a four and slipped on the ice, and I got this one when Katara was practicing with her water knives, and, oh! This one is from when we escaped from Ba Sing Se. It kinda looks like a koalaotter if you squint,” he says eagerly as he rolls up the hem of his pants to show off the slightly raised patch of skin on his shin.

“It does not look like a koalaotter,” Katara says with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a scar .”

“That’s because you don’t have an artist’s eye,” he sniffs in disdain. “Aang, you see a koalaotter, right?”

He hesitates, looking between the siblings “Uh, well,” he fumbles, leaning to get a closer look of Sokka’s leg, “I guess if I squint --”

“Don’t mind them, Sokka, I think it looks like a koalaotter,” says Toph, where she leaned back against Appa’s side, flicking pebbles in the air.

He grins triumphantly. “See! I told you-- hey .” He glares at her as she starts to laugh.”I’ve got to stop falling for that.”

“You make it too easy,” she giggles before turning over onto her stomach. “I don’t have any cool scars.”

“How would you even know?”

“I just do, Twinkletoes,” she says, blowing a raspberry his way.

Aang looks sour for a second before he brightens and yanks his pants up over his knee. “One time in Omashu I was Bumi and I got this,” he says excitedly gesturing to the hypertrophic scar that graced his knee. “It looks like a map of the Fire Nation!”

Sokka leans in closer, trying to get a better look at it in the flickering light of the campfire. He strokes his chin and says, “Yeah, it actually kinda does.”

“Let me guess,” Katara says flatly, “You and Bumi had a slide accident, didn’t you?”

Aang’s responding sheepish laughter and the faint colour that rises to his cheeks tell her everything that she needs to know.

“What about you, Katara?” he asks, directing the attention to her instead of himself, “Do you have any cool scars?”

She shrugs. “No, not really.”

He pouts. “C’mon. Not even a little one?”

“Yeah Katara, not even a little one,” taunts Sokka, “You know, like when Gran-Gran taught you how to sew and you accidentally stitched your glove to your thigh.”

“Sokka!” she snaps, cheeks ablaze, while the others roar with laughter. “At least I know how to sew. You still ask Gran-Gran to darn your socks!”

It’s his turn to flush now, embarrassment creeping over him. “Zuko!” he calls out, eyes falling on the other boy who’s been surprisingly quiet this whole time. He’s sitting in the shadows, just out of their little fireside circle. “You’re up. Story time.”

His good eye widens as they all look towards him, waiting. “Uh,” he stutters for a moment before pulling the neckline of his shirt. “I have one on my shoulder that kind of looks like a fire lily?” He twists, giving them a glimpse of it for just a second before fixing his shirt to rights. “Azula pushed me into the turtle duck pond when I was ten.”

“Your sister is a psychopath,” Sokka says unimpressed.

“She’s not a psychopath,” he says, still awkward as he rubs the back of his neck, “Just… misunderstood.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m going to take a walk,” he says, abruptly standing up and stalking off into the night before anyone else can get a word in.

They all watch him leave but Katara’s eyes linger the longest, even as Toph changes the topic by saying, “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten? I’ll go first! It was sand!”

They continue on with their usual fireside banter until they start yawning more than talking and then, one by one, they tuck in for the night, curling up in their sleeping bags as the fire dwindles to just embers.

Katara waits until Sokka’s sleepy mumbling trail off into snores before she unfurls herself and heads down the rocky pathway to the shore that Zuko had taken earlier.

She finds him there, standing on the still warm sand and staring out at the ocean, nothing but the faint glow of the moon to illuminate his profile. The moon tugs at something in her veins, calling her towards the water, but she ignores it in favour of padding across to where he stood in complete silence.

He doesn’t say anything as she comes to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder. The heat radiating off of him is a nice contrast to the cool night’s air that swirls around them, laden heavy with salt and sea.

They stand there together, watch the waves lap against the shore, just far enough inland that the water barely brushes against their toes.

“Everyone’s gone to bed,” she says after a couple moments have passed.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, she shifts closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Hey. You should get some rest too.”

“I’m fine.”

She sighs inwardly before moving to step in front of his gaze and his head jerks back. “Look, Sokka didn’t mean anything by asking about-- he just lacks tact.”

There’s a faint quirk of his lips at the corners. “I think at this point Momo has more tact than your brother.”

“And you’d be right,” she murmurs in agreement. It’s then she realises how close they’re standing, the way she can make out every line and edge of his face in the watery moonlight. She hasn’t stood this close to him since their brief time in the crystal catacombs together.

The memory of their time together sparks something within her and Katara can’t help but let her eyes drift to his scar, the reddened, raised edges that cover his face from eyebrow to cheekbone.

She expects him to turn his head as he does whenever he catches anyone looking at the scar, but to her surprise, all he does is swallow thickly.

“I should have let you use the magic water when I had the chance huh.”

“Spirit water,” she corrects him, automatic, “To be honest, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t. I ended up using it to save Aang after Azula shot him with lightning.” She fixes him with a look. “She really is a psychopath.”

Zuko shrugs half-heartedly. “She’s still my sister.”

Katara worries her lip, hesitating for a moment before she brings her hand to rest on his cheek, feeling the bumpy, irregular surface of his skin beneath it. He winces at the contact but he still makes no move to turn away from her.

“I don’t know-- you never told me how you got this,” she says softly, her thumb rubbing at the edge where smooth skin gives way to scar tissue.

He seems shocked at that. “You mean you don’t know?” At the shake of her head, his mouth presses into a thin line. “It’s not exactly a great bedtime story.”

“I didn’t expect it to be,” she says, and then adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” He flashes her a wry grin but there’s no humour behind it, just a long lasting sadness. “It was a spectacle in the Fire Nation. The Fire Lord duelling the crown prince in an agni kai.”

Katara stumbles back as the weight of his words hit her like a freight train. The hand she had on his cheek drops, coming to cover her mouth which had fallen open in shock.

“An agni kai? Your father did this to you?” she asks, her voice just barely above a whisper as she tries to even begin to comprehend just what Zuko might have gone through. Suddenly, his actions in the early days start to make sense.

“My uncle invited me to a war meeting. It was my first time there and they were discussing an invasion plan for the Earth Kingdom. A general proposed sacrificing an entire legion of new recruits-- children, barely sixteen-- and everyone just went along with it. They didn’t see anything wrong with that,” he explains, weariness dripping from every word and settling deep in her bones. “I spoke up. Said it was wrong to lead them to their deaths like that. But by speaking against the general, I spoke against my father and he didn’t appreciate that.”

“And he challenged you to an agni kai,” she finishes, horrified.

Zuko clenches his jaw and nods once before ducking his head. “I didn’t want to fight him. I begged him for forgiveness but my father saw it as a sign of weakness. So he burnt me and then banished me from the kingdom. The only way for me to return home was if I redeemed myself, redeemed my honour , by capturing the avatar,” he says, eyes flicking up to look at her from beneath his lashes.

It’s quiet for a long time, his words hanging heavy in the air. Katara feels hot and cold at the same time, the sickening chill of everything that Zuko had to go through leaking down her spin to mix with the bright, all consuming rage in her stomach. She doesn’t think she’s felt this much anger since she came face to face with Yon Rha.

Katara doesn’t realise that she’s shaking until he puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her and the turbulent water she accidentally agitated in all of her emotion. The hems of their clothes are wet.

“Hey,” he murmurs, soft, stepping closer, into her space, “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay ?” She chokes out a laugh that sounds like fractured glass. “It’s certainly not okay.”

“I’ve made my peace with it,” he says, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her biceps, “I thought that when he gave me the scar he took away my honour and that I had to find the avatar to regain it. But I don’t believe that anymore. I’m the only one who can get it back and by helping Aang restore order in the world… well, I like to think it’s a step in the right direction.”

She wants to laugh at how easy he says it, at how he truly believes that there’s still more making up that he needs to do before he can consider himself worthy again.

It’s that expression on his face-- half hope, half determination-- that melts the fight right out of her.

“Zuko,” she starts tenderly. Her hand finds its way back up to his cheek, brushing along the sharp line of his cheekbone, brushing over his scar. “You are the most honourable person I know of.”

She’s close enough that she can see the way his eyes widen at her declaration and the way his white-gold skin colours with a dull flush. His cheek is warm under her palm.

“All of this-- I hate that it happened to you, but you’re a good man. An honourable man. And I’m so glad to have you with us,” she tells him.

Out of everything, this is what gets him to look away, the praise she showers upon him, and Katara can’t help but grin.

She leans forward, closing the narrow strip of space between them, and brushes her lips against his cheek, soft, quick, perhaps too quick for both of them though they would never say it.

His smile is fond when she pulls back, the blush still swirling in his cheeks matching the new one that rises to hers when she meets his eyes. There’s a new warmth blazing in them as he looks down at her, and Katara feels herself colour further.

“Thank you, Katara,” he tells her, affection clinging to the simple words. He squeezes her arms once more before letting his hands drop to his sides. It leaves her strangely cold and she watches as he flexes his fingers, not looking at her again.

Tentatively, she reaches over, taking hold of his hand. It’s much larger than hers, pale with long delicate fingers, and surprisingly calloused for someone who’s a bender, and royalty on top of that. She supposes that it comes from years of training with his dao swords.

His eyes are questioning when she looks back up at him, and she offers a small smile in return.

“Come on,” she says, tangling her fingers in his as she leads him away from the shoreline. “Let’s get some rest.”

The weight of unsaid things linger between them as they slowly pick their way back up to the campsite, a quiet, sweet thing that blooms in the still air of the night. Neither of them say a word as they climb into their sleeping bags, but they lie next to each other, eyes roving across faces and drinking in the tiniest of details that are visible in the light of the dying embers.

Zuko drifts to sleep first and she finds herself looking at his scar again as sleep starts to consume her too. A reminder of his painful past, but hopefully a guiding light to shape his future.

As Katara finally succumbs to sleep, her last thought is that she hopes she’s part of that future with him too.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Howlin’ For You - 5/?

Description: When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she doesn’t fully understand what gave Bucky Barnes such a bad name.

Pairing: AU - Biker!Bucky x Fem/Reader

Word Count: 4,305

Part Four

Y/N quickly broke her slumber with the ache in her chest. The doctors said it would be hard to sleep for awhile. The slightest movement or deep breath caused a jolt of pain. Her eyes remained closed, but squeezed tightly from the discomfort.

When she finally managed to even her breathing, her body seemed to sense another body in her room. Her mother and sister had already exhausted her with their visit earlier. Y/N wasn’t ready to deal with them so soon. So, keeping her eyes closed, she listened to be sure it was them.

However the breathing was different and then she caught his scent. It was the same smell that had lingered on his leather jacket.

Y/N instantly went into a battle of deciding whether or not she wanted to continue faking her sleep or actually face him.

Her heart won the battle, for her eyes flickered open. She was able to watch him for a moment since he wasn’t looking up. Instead, Bucky was leaning forward in the chair, with his forearms resting on his knees. His hands were clasped together. Y/N noted that most of his knuckles were bruised and split. There were even a flew splotches of of blood staining the skin.

Bucky was wearing a black t-shirt with the short sleeves messily rolled up.

Once again, Y/N was caught off guard by the sleeve of tattoos on his left arm that he rarely exposed. She hadn’t been this close before. It made her see that the flesh was different; there was something off. It took her a moment to realize it was because the skin was burnt. The tattoos were hiding the scarring all up his arm.

“What are you doing here?” Her raspy voice surprised even her.

Bucky’s head shot up. “Hi!” He accidentally blurted out. Then he awkwardly got up from the seat next to her bed. He looked around and wiped his hands on his pants. For as large and tall as he was, Y/N had never seen him as anything other than graceful… until now.

“I…I…” He ran his hands through his shaggy hair. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll leave you alone now.”

It was obvious from his body language that the last thing he wanted to do was leave her.

Y/N watched him with her brow furrowed. A part of her wanted to let him go.

“Bucky?” She interrupted quietly, mostly because her voice and ribs wouldn’t allow her to talk any louder.

He froze.

“You can stay.” She stated. “On one condition: you answer all of my questions.”

Bucky’s entire body relaxed. Then he nodded and slowly made his way back to the seat next to her bed. “That seems fair.”

But Y/N watched him wearily. There was no playfulness to her expression or voice now. She didn’t trust him anymore.

Bucky took in a deep breath and leaned forward. “Can I just say something first?”

She watched him for a moment before finally nodding.

“I can only imagine what you thought when you saw Dot at my house.” He cleared his throat. “But I just…I just need you to know that nothing happened between me and her. Before you came over, she drove to my house completely wasted. I wouldn’t let her go home until she sobered up. She was wearing my clothes because she got sick and threw up all over her dress.” He tried to gage her reaction after giving his explanation. “Do you believe me?”

Y/N kept her expression passive. “Why does it matter if I believe you?”

Bucky’s face dropped. “Please don’t do that…”

“Don’t do what?”

“Push me away.”

Y/N scoffed at that. “Isn’t that your job?”

Bucky shook his head firmly. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Then what were you doing, Bucky? Because I can’t seem to follow anymore. One second your giving me these looks that no man ever has and then the next you act like I don’t exist.”

Bucky knew exactly what she was talking about. “The night at the bar…I didn’t expect you to be there. As soon as I saw you, all I wanted to do was talk to you. But my life has made me enemies. I was trying to leave you out of it. I thought I was keeping you safe. Clearly that did nothing.” Then he gestured angrily at her body. “I mean look at you! You could’ve fucking died! And it only happened because you’re associated with me!”

“I shouldn’t have been out by myself. Like you said, this town gets dangerous…especially at night.”

Bucky glared at her. “Y/N, none of this is your fault. Rumlow did this because he knows I care about you.”

She ignored his comment. “How did you get into a biker gang?”

“Huh?”

Y/N stared him down. “You never explained how you and Steve went from the military to a biker gang. I said you could stay if you answered all my questions. So answer.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk a little at her stubbornness. “The motorcycles were always a part of our friendship. We’ve been breaking them down and building them since we were in middle school. The gang part didn’t happen until later…”

“You’re not doing a really great job of explaining this.” Y/N pointed out rudely.

Bucky chuckled at that. “Yeah, doll? Well, it’s not like it happened overnight.” He took a deep breath and ruffled his hair. “We had our friends and we became a family. Sometimes bad things happen to your family. Like Steve’s dad beating him and his mom. Or Wanda’s twin brother getting hit by a drunk driver. Or my sister falling in love with a man, who mentally and emotionally abused her.”

Y/N’s cold demeanor broke.

But Bucky continued. “The law doesn’t always protect the people you love. The police are never there when you need them. Judges let guilty people go free and imprison innocent ones. So we started doing what we had to in order to save the people we love.”

“We threatened Steve’s father, scared him so badly that he left town and never came back. We hunted down the drunk driver that killed Wanda’s brother. He ran out of state lines, so we caught him ourselves and handed him over to the police, just a step away from death.”

Y/N looked down at her hands in her lap. “And your sister?”

Bucky frowned. “I figured it out before it was too late. I was going to kill him, had a knife to his throat. But my sister was crying her eyes out, begging for me not to. I’ve never heard her so desperate. I knew she wasn’t in the right state of mind. But I couldn’t do it after listening to her like that.”

He took in a deep breath. “Soon people caught wind of what we’d been doing. Strangers in town ask us for favors…to do things that law enforcement ignores. Then the town catches rumors, people just hear what they want to hear and assume the rest. Overnight, my friends and I, who just happen to ride motorcycles, start getting called a biker gang. Eventually you become the thing that people expect you to be.”

Y/N eyed him. “You don’t sell drugs?”

“No.”

“Kill people for money?”

“No.”

“Own a sex trafficking ring?”

Bucky can’t help but laugh. “No, Y/N.”

She doesn’t find it amusing.

He leans forward even more. “Look, doll, I know it’s hard for you to believe…but we do have a moral code. It doesn’t match the law. But we still abide it.”

Y/N’s satisfied with this answer, but she doesn’t let it show. “What happened to your arm?”

Bucky sits back in his seat and shifts, clearly uncomfortable by the question. “It happened when I was in the army. Steve and I were on patrol. A grenade was thrown right in front of him. I panicked and managed to shove him out of danger. But I was still too close. I held up my arm to shield myself and my sleeve caught fire. I got third degree burns from my shoulder and down to my wrist.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic look. “Can…Can I see?” Her voice was surprisingly sweet.

Bucky gave her a shy smile and nodded before reaching his left arm out. He rest it on her lap, making sure to avoid her ribs, in fear of hurting her.

She put her left hand in his palm and squeezed as if to comfort him. Her right hand traced over the sleeve of tattoos. There were so many elements to it, but somehow all the different tattoos looked like they were meant to be together. There was a skull on his forearm that had a snake coming out of its jaw. It was slightly cut off by three roses. There was also a star right at the center of his shoulder. It was a piece of art that Y/N was amazed Bucky could imagine for an artist to create.

“Steve did it.” Bucky pointed out softly.

Her eyes flickered up to his.

“After the military, Steve went to college. He double majored in mechanical engineering and fine art.” Bucky smiled at the absurdity, but there was clearly pride there too. “He has a tattoo parlor in the auto-shop.” The smile dropped a little. “I figured I’d rather have some art to look at every day than a scar that reminds me of that grenade going off.”

“It’s beautiful.” Y/N accidentally sighed.

But it earned her a shy smile from Bucky.

Then she frowned. “The doctors said the cut at the edge of my eyebrow might scar…”

Bucky’s stomach dropped at how sad she sounded about it. He eyed the cut she was referencing. It was a straight line that when through the edge of her right eyebrow and stopped just above the corner of her eye. The doctors had put hot pink stitches in it. Bucky liked to think she requested the color.

“Doesn’t really matter though, does it?” He said like it was a matter of fact. Her face scrunched in confusion. “You’ll still be fucking beautiful.”

She chuckled at his charm, but then immediately winced from the pain. “Oh. Please don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m sorry.” Bucky panicked. “Do you want me to get a nurse? Do you need more pain killers?”

She shook her head. “No. They’ve given me all they can. Just…just keep distracting me. Your voice is relaxing me.”

Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink.

Y/N smiled. “I wish the world could see that I just made Bucky Barnes, the dangerous and scary lead of a biker gang, blush like a little schoolgirl.”

Bucky’s laughter quickly died when he heard scuffling in the hallway and whispering. His expression darkened. It was in the middle of the night. Visiting hours had been over long ago and Bucky was only here because people feared his wrath and Natasha had wooed a few doctors.

He got up quietly from his seat and tiptoed to the door surprisingly silent for someone as big and heavy as him.

Y/N’s body tensed as he saw Bucky disappear around the corner.

But then she swore she heard giggling.

Bucky returned with a smile on his face. “Doll, I think you have some visitors.”

Suddenly four children came scurrying into the room. “Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N! Are you okay?” They were all dressed in some variation of hospital gowns or pajamas. One didn’t have any hair. But they all looked delicate and sickish.

Y/N immediately recognized them. “What are you troublemakers doing out of bed?”

“We heard that you were in an accident!” One of them cried out with concern.

“We made you cards! And Bobby even brought one of his balloons for you!”

Bucky stood back and watched the interaction with amusement. The children were careful of her injuries when they crawled on the edge of the bed. They were talking a mile a minute and seemed very concerned for Y/N’s well-being.

After a half hour or so, a nurse came into the room. “As soon as they went missing, I knew they had found their way over here.” But she didn’t seem the slightest bit mad. She apologized to Y/N and herded the children out of the room.

Bucky cleared his throat once they were alone again. “Your friends are a lot younger than I imagined.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the joke. “I work for a non-profit organization. We coordinate and fund after school art classes for schools that can’t afford to keep their art department running. We do activities in hospitals for sick children too.”

“You really are a saint, aren’t you?” Bucky said in awe.

“Definitely no saint.” Y/N sighed. Then her attention was brought back to Bucky’s hands again. “What happened to your hands, Bucky?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“We had a deal.” Y/N reminded him.

But Bucky remained silent.

“Did you go after Brock?” She asked carefully.

He still stayed quiet, looking at the ground.

“Bucky?” She whispered. “Did you kill him?”

“I would’ve if Steve and Sam hadn’t been there.” He finally spoke. Y/N opened her mouth to scold him. “He shouldn’t have laid a hand on you, let alone looked you in the eye.” Bucky growled.

She didn’t know what to say.

“I told you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.” Bucky mumbled in shame.

“But you can’t protect everyone all the time.” Y/N told him gently.

His brow wrinkled at that idea. He didn’t like it.

Silence filled the room.

“I have one more question.” She muttered.

He waited patiently.

“What am I to you?”

Bucky slowly moved to her side, opting to sit on the edge of her bed instead of the chair. He smiled as his mind went back in time.

“The first time I saw you, you were wearing overalls and that Calvin Klein top. Which wasn’t much of a top, I’d like to point out.” He added with a playful smirk. She wanted to correct him and clarify that it was a bralette. But she stayed quiet. “You were painting that front door pink.” He paused. “And…And I just thought you were so beautiful. It felt like some cruel punishment that you lived across the street, because I assumed there was no way you hadn’t moved in with your boyfriend or husband. Then I kept seeing you go on those dates. You always dressed differently. Somehow I knew you weren’t yourself with them. It just made me want to get to know you…the real you.”

“So you were watching me?” Y/N teased.

“Hey, now. That’s not what I was doing and you know it. It’s just hard to take my eyes off you, doll.” Bucky chuckled. “But that first night I saw you at the bar, I was too excited for an excuse to finally talk to you. I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”

Y/N’s eyes lowered, too scared to ask her next question while looking into his blue eyes. “Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

“Because you’re too good for me.” He answered instantly, further proving that he believed it.

“How can you say that?” She whispered back.

“Your mom and sister will know it too.” He laughed darkly. “Every date they set you up with has a fancy sports car, makes six figures, wears a suit and tie, probably works in finance or law…”

“Exactly.” Y/N spat. It caught Bucky off guard. “That’s not me. All of those men, they want a trophy wife. Some girl that’s pretty and indifferent. I’m just another box to check off on a list that means they’ve lived a successful life.”

She took in a deep breath. “You asked me why I moved here.”

Bucky nodded.

“All my friends… they’re married or engaged. Some of them have started having kids. They moved out of the city and back to the suburbs. I felt like I was suffocating as everyone in my life waited until I joined in too.” Her eyes locked with Bucky’s. “I wasn’t running away, I was trying to run towards something. My friends… they’ve started the new chapter in their lives. Yeah, I might still be in it, but my part is hardly important. Moving an hour away didn’t make a difference. They don’t have enough time for me anyway.”

Y/N reached for Bucky’s hand. “My point is that I’m not too good for you. In fact, I think you actually might be what’s best for me.”

“So you just want to date me to piss off your mom and sister?” Bucky mocked.

“Oh, get over yourself. As soon as they hang out with you, they’ll realize you’re not as much of a tough biker as you pretend to be.” She chided.

Bucky leaned in closer. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” He whispered.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway.

Both of them looked over to see that Steve was standing with a nurse at his side.

“You’ve officially terrified all of the staff.” Steve scolded Bucky. “So I’m here to relay the message and tell you that Y/N needs her rest.”

Y/N smirked. “Just give us a few more minutes?”

Steve looked down at the nurse for approval. She nodded her head and then disappeared.

But Steve lingered in the doorway. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, Y/N.” She thanked him and he too disappeared.

“Y/N?” Bucky grabbed her attention with his delicate tone. “Thank you for letting me stay… and for listening to me.” Then he leaned forward and surprised her with a kiss on the cheek. “Get some rest.”

“I love you two. But you’re driving me fucking insane. The doctor said I’d be able to get around fine on my own.” Y/N tried to remain calm as she kicked out her mother and sister. She’d been discharged yesterday. But she made an oath to herself that she’d only let the two of them stay over one night. Otherwise her sanity would never be saved.

“But your hand…” Her mom began.

“Is a minor annoyance and inconvenience!” Y/N finished. “Please guys. I’m just exhausted. All I wanna do is sleep in my own bed and not have to breathe in that gross hospital smell. If I need anything, I’ll call you. I promise.”

They finally agreed and started grabbing their things to head out.

Y/N swore her heart lifted with relief when she heard their car drive away. But it was short-lived when her doorbell rang. Had they forgot something? Or worse, had they changed their minds?

She swung open the door to find Bucky standing on her front porch. His hair was in that messy bun that she’d grown addicted to. His jeans were slightly distressed, tucked into his combat boots, and he was wear a white Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

“Christ. I thought they’d never leave.” Bucky exhaled. Then he let out a laugh when he saw the look of relief on her face.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to hide her happiness from seeing him.

“You’re ribs are still healing and you have a broken hand…” Bucky pointed to the cast as if his appearance was the most obvious thing ever.

“Yeah?” She answered, still confused.

“Nurse Bucky at your service.” Bucky smirked. “I already ordered pizza…should be here in 20 minutes or so.”

“Bucky, you really don’t have-” But she was interrupted with his lips pressing to hers. She moaned softly into the kiss with surprise. But her body reciprocated almost at once. The hand that wasn’t in a cast, cupped his cheek as their lips continued to dance.

Eventually they pulled apart for air. But Bucky leaned his forehead against hers, just like last time.

“What was that for?” Y/N whispered, not that she was complaining.

“I figured it might cure your stubbornness. You know, distract you enough to stop you from brushing my offer aside.” He grinned shrewdly. “And I think our first kiss got a little ruined, don’t you think?”

“You’re evil.” Y/N scolded.

But Bucky had the audacity to wink and move around her. He made himself at home, sitting on her couch and immediately picking up the remote to change the channel.

Y/N paused to watch him for a moment. It was strange to see how much Bucky looked like he belonged in her house. Despite her quirky and brightly colored home decor, his dark and grungy aesthetic didn’t clash with it. Y/N wish she could take a photograph of that moment. But to actually do that would taint it.

“You gonna join or just check me out, doll?” Bucky asked without taking his eyes off the television.

The rest of the night was filled with movie watching, Netflix binging, and pizza eating. Sometimes the TV was just background noise as the two of them talked and other times they couldn’t take their eyes off the screen as the fictional story unfolded.

Eventually the pizza box was empty and the credits of another movie were rolling. Bucky looked down. Y/N had cuddled into his chest at one point. She was breathing evenly, fast asleep. Her head was resting over his heart and Bucky’s left arm was wrapped over her shoulder.

A shy smile formed on his lips at the sight of her. Y/N was so beautiful. He’d never met another woman that made him feel more like himself. When he was with her, he didn’t feel like the scary biker that everyone else saw. He just felt like Bucky. He could let his guard down, be himself. There wasn’t a reputation to protect because Y/N was only interested in the real.

“Doll…” Bucky whispered into her ear.

“Hmm… I’m sleeping.” Y/N mumbled and buried her face further into his chest.

“Your bed is going to much more comfortable.” Bucky continued whispering.

“No.”

Bucky chuckled. “Alright. I’ll carry you.” Before he got an answer, he ever so carefully brought her body into his lap and then stood with her in his arms. He was cautious of her injuries and scared of holding onto her too tightly.

Once he gently placed Y/N on her bed, he took off her fuzzy slippers and pulled the covers over her.

“Bucky?” Y/N mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Yeah, doll. I’m right here.”

“You should stay.”

He chuckled at her forwardness, suddenly remembering that she’d taken two heavy duty painkillers before falling asleep. “As tempting as that is, I think you should rest in your bed alone.”

“Tempting?” Y/N groaned in annoyance. “You’re one to talk…walking around all hot and badass, wearing leather jackets and combat boots. Can’t you just let me live my life?”

Bucky tried to suppress his laughter as he sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “Are you saying you think I’m sexy, doll?” He pushed.

She sleepily scoffed at that. “Sexy doesn’t even begin to cover it.” But then the room was filled with the sound of Y/N’s cute snoring.

Bucky chuckled again, then made sure the blankets were all straightened and covering her body.

“For the record, I think you’re sexy too, Y/N.” He whispered in a laugh, even though he knew she was now sleeping and drugged out.

Bucky cleaned up Y/N’s living room and kitchen before leaving and made sure to lock the door behind him.

When he started walking across the street, he saw Steve’s motorcycle parked in his driveway. He looked over to see Steve sitting on the first step of his front door.

“How long you been sittin’ here?” Bucky asked when he was finally at his door. But instead of going inside, he sat next to his friend.

“Not too long. Figured you were at Y/N’s.” Steve shrugged. “How’s she doin’?”

Bucky sighed. “She’s a tough girl… just wish it never happened in the first place.”

“I’m glad you two worked things out.” Steve credited.

Bucky nodded to himself. “I wanted to ask you something actually.”

Steve looked at him, urging him to go on.

“How did you know what to do with Peggy? Weren’t you scared something was going to happen to her?”

Steve’s wife was their gang’s best kept secret. No one outside of The Howling Commandos knew Steve was even married, let alone that he had two kids. Steve’s family was outside the biker life. He didn’t want them to be in the dangerous side of his life. It had to be done in order to keep them safe.

“I didn’t.” Steve finally admitted. “I just knew that I loved her and I would do anything to keep her in my life.”

“People have already found out about Y/N. We all know Rumlow’s face is walking proof that he crossed me.” Bucky sighed.

“We’ll all look after her, Buck.” Steve vowed. “You know that, right?”

Bucky looked at him with a smile. “Yeah, punk. I know that.”

Steve pat him on the back. “Like we always say…”

“…Till the end of the line. Yeah, yeah. I know, Stevie.” Bucky playfully rolled his eyes.

Steve chuckled at his dramatics. “So are you going to actually ask her on a date or just keeping wandering over to her house like a stalker?”

But Bucky’s only response was wrapping Steve in a headlock and messing up his hair in a noogie.

Part Six

[andrewrees-blog]

Self-Publishing Report.

�� In this report, I will assess the book I created for the ‘Text and Image: 

Illustration and Publishing’ project, and discuss the action and process taken 

to make it. I will cover challenges and achievements found in its production, 

and investigate other self-publishing artists and how their methods vary.

  I began very loosely storyboarding the narrative; playing around with layout 

and drawing a variety of possible scenes. I condensed the story I wanted to 

tell, and then divided it among the 8 double-page spread pages. As these 

scenes developed into more finite sketches, I had to consider the use of 

strong body language; as the drawing method I wanted to use wouldn’t show 

and facial features or much detail. I ended up drawing a second refined 

storyboard after, which would be to scale of the actual publication I made; 

showing more accurate body language.

  To begin constructing my book, I went out and collected various rubbings of 

harsh and deteriorated surfaces around Norwich. I used a mix of chalk, 

charcoal and oil pastels to achieve different marks and colours. I used quite 

thin sheets of paper throughout, to make sure the detail was being picked up 

by my mediums. The process was very messy; as the chalk and pastel I used 

would go all over myself and affect the other sheets I placed them with. I 

made myself move frequently from spot to spot; taking rubbings from one 

place then moving on; without being precious about each print.

  To turn the rubbings into characters, I would trace the outlines of them from 

my final (to-scale) storyboard, turn the rubbings over onto the clean side; and 

draw the reverse of the trace onto it. Using a scalpel and scissors, I then cut 

each character and object out by hand. The backgrounds were made by 

loosely and quickly dabbing watercolour onto fine grain, heavyweight paper 

with a thin brush; and I then created staining by drying them quickly with a hair 

dryer. Before gluing rubbings to the background, I used hairspray on them to 

lessen the risk of smudging. I then glued the backs of each page together and 

added the book cover.

  I found it very challenging to cut out detailed shapes and features by hand; 

and I know that a lot of detail and expression was lost due to the form of some 

characters. I also, despite my efforts of using hairspray on the rubbings, 

experienced a lot of smudging onto the backgrounds. I think the process 

would’ve been much more efficient if I had used photoshop to shape and edit 

the characters, and then compose the book on in design to print. This 

would’ve made it easier to edit the form of characters, and removed the risk of 

accidental mess. It would’ve also given me more binding options; as I was 

limited by sticking my rubbings down onto flat double page spreads to reduce 

creases and bubbles under the paper.

  After questioning my methods of production, I decided to study some artists 

who self-publish. Jeffrey Alan Love, an award-winning writer and illustrator, 

who published his own book “Notes from the Shadow City”. He’s often 

commissioned to create cover art for books too; and shared a detailed 

walkthrough of his process when creating the art for Yoon Ha Lee’s book, 

Combustion Hour.

  After reading the source material a few times, he sketches his drawing on 

computer. He avoids using pencil at this point, to avoid concern of line work 

and drawing. “I focus on value, shape, and edge, and smearing digital pixels 

around is like playing in mud for me. I’m not attached to it, so I feel 

comfortable distorting, overpainting, destroying, and experimenting 

(Love.2014).” Once he’s happy with the form, he prints it off and traces it onto 

a piece of Masonite hardboard, which has been gessoed. After painting a 

black base layer of his forms, he then applies colour and texture using a 

variety of tools; such as pallet knives and paint rollers. He also uses tracing 

paper to cut out detailed shapes, then paints over them. His discovery of new 

textures is very trial and error; but he just goes with it, saying “I try not to 

control what happens at this stage, but just let as many happy accidents (and 

unhappy ones) happen. Chaos first, and then I can edit it later…(Love.2014)”. 

He then photographs the piece, and edits it in Photoshop; where he makes 

custom brushes, and perfects the image.

  This account of how he created this piece has given me a great insight into 

how he created his publication. I value how he started working; thinking about 

form, shape and edge. I can relate with the trial by error mind set; as I was 

very much ‘letting the chaos happen then editing it later’. I think computer 

editing and composition would have made a much neater product, and 

allowed me to create more dynamic characters.

  Considering how I could have created my book on a computer instead of by 

hand made me think about how it would have been printed. The main qualities 

of my book are its bold textures and interesting surfaces, which could easily 

be lost in printing. I found a London based printing studio called Hato Press, 

who specialise in Risograph Printing. Formed by students, the company 

provide affordable printing services to students and independent artists. Hato 

Press receive artwork in PDF form, where it is proof checked and made into a 

template. The process of printing is similar to screen printing; and each image 

must be made as a separate greyscale layer.  The original image file is sent 

into the machine and it’s burnt onto a master; which is then wrapped around a 

print drum. This drum then rotates and pushes ink through the screen and 

onto paper as it’s sent through the machine. The outcomes are varied from 

each print, and there is a lot of experimentation involved. After printed, they 

also offer various forms of binding like saddle stitch, perfect bind, seam bind 

and spiral bind.

  There are several drawbacks to this process, as they can only offer around 

20 colours and cannot print on glossy or silk papers. They also warn that large 

areas of block colour will not print evenly and heavy inking with more than 2 

colours can leave track marks. Despite this, I like the look of the prints they 

make. They create bold colours with interesting textures, and using uncoated 

paper could provide the same interesting surface I wanted my rubbing-filled 

book to have. Not only would this service make my publication easier to 

produce in bulk, but the unique prints, interesting textures and variety of 

uncoated papers available could have done my work justice.

 Referencing.

Tor, (2014) Creating the Artwork for Yoon Ha Lee’s “Combustion Hour” [Internet] Available from: <http://www.tor.com/2014/04/10/creating-the-artwork-for-yoon-ha-lees-combustion-hour/#more-122294> [Accessed 11th May 2017]

Love, J.A, (2014) Artwork for Yoon Ha Lee’s “Combustion Hour” [Online image] Available from: <http://www.tor.com/2014/04/10/creating-the-artwork-for-yoon-ha-lees-combustion-hour/#more-122294> [Accessed 11th May 2017]

Hato Press, (2009) Printing [Internet] Available from: <http://hatopress.net/printing/> [Accessed 11th May 2017]

Hato Press, (2009) Printing – Basics [Online Image] Available from: <http://hatopress.net/printing/> [Accessed 11th May 2017]

 Bibliography.

Flesk Publications, (2017) Notes from the Shadowed City by Jeffrey Alan Love [Internet] Available from: <http://fleskpublications.com/flesksite/index.php?route=product/product&path=18_98&product_id=177> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Hato Press, (2009) Hato Press – London based Risograph printer and publishing house [Internet] Available from: <http://hatopress.net/> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Hato Press, (2009) Printing [Internet] Available from: <http://hatopress.net/printing/> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Hato Press, (2009) Printing – Basics [Online Image] Available from: <http://hatopress.net/printing/> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Love, J.A, (2017) Jeffrey Alan Love [internet] Available from: <https://www.jeffreyalanlove.com/> Accessed on 11th May 2017.

Love, J.A, (2014) Artwork for Yoon Ha Lee’s “Combustion Hour” [Online image] Available from: <http://www.tor.com/2014/04/10/creating-the-artwork-for-yoon-ha-lees-combustion-hour/#more-122294> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Spectrum, (2017) Notes from the Shadowed City Promo Video [Internet video] Available from: <http://spectrumfantasticart.com/video.php> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Tor, (2014) Revealing the Covers for Andy Remic’s Song for No Man’s Land Trilogy [Internet] Available from: <http://www.tor.com/author/jeffrey-alan-love/> Accessed 11th May 2017.

Tor, (2014) Creating the Artwork for Yoon Ha Lee’s “Combustion Hour” [Internet] Available from: <http://www.tor.com/2014/04/10/creating-the-artwork-for-yoon-ha-lees-combustion-hour/#more-122294> Accessed 11th May 2017.