#the past drawings I’ve done probably won’t look that way

[rozugold]

If-if Di!Tommy and Dream are the same height, and Di!Tommy is the SHORTEST of the Tommy's. Is. Is Dream SHORTER than Tommy?

Okay, well my original answer was no but now I’m really considering saying yes… Not only is their height difference a little funny, it’s also just really heartbreaking to me cuz it just shows how much Tommy shrinks into himself when he’s around Dream, to the point where he’s shorter than him when it’s usually the other way around…

[s0urw00lf]

Love is in the air

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: you unknowingly give Dean another reason to fall deeper in love with you

Warning: complete and utter fluff and sam is a girls girl.

A/N: idk if anyone has done something like this, but I really loved it and I think it’s my favorite fic I’ve written yet. Also this isn’t proofread so if you see any mistakes please let me know. I wrote this at 5 am so I probably won’t notice any mistakes. Anywho hope you enjoy!!!

Today’s hunt had been a bust after you and Dean were tasked by Sam to be the cliche “couple in love” so that the envious love witch would target you instead of some other innocent couple.

So now you and Dean were in the impala driving back to the motel that happened to be about a fourty five minute drive away from the restaurant she was targeting.

The night was silent aside from the quiet music Dean had playing in the background and the light tapping of his thumbs against the steering wheel. Dean looked incredibly good in his suit and tie, a look you wish he’d worn more often.

To Dean you looked better than any angel that could grace his presence, when you exited the bathroom with your off the shoulder black form fitting dress and high heels that made your legs look like heaven, his knees almost buckled and they would’ve hadn’t it been for Sam who was there to catch him before he could.

“Hey dean?” You asked softly, drawing his attention from the empty road to you, replying with a ‘hmm’. His green eyes were extra bright in the darkness and made you want to melt in your seat.

“Can I roll down the window?” You asked, it was an odd request on your part, because you usually don’t like the pressure the harsh wind puts on your head. Dean eyebrows rose in surprise before answering “f’course sweetheart, sure it’s not gonna make your head hurt?” he asked sincerely

You shook your head “no it won’t be for long I just… want to try something” you said, pausing in thought you hoped that the feeling would push away the sadness you felt. He nodded glancing back at the road, “okay then go for it” he said with a smile.

You clicked the button to roll down the window and felt immediately relaxed. You put your arm out of the window, closing your eyes and let the wind blow on your face and whistle past your ears.

Dean watched with love in his eyes at how relaxed you looked, he could tell that the your failure to obtain the witches attention had bothered you but decided against saying anything, but as soon as the wind hit your face its like all that sadness slipped away with the wind.

You sat like that for a minute or so before deciding that was enough, you opened your eyes looking for the button again before an idea struck you. You paused in thought ‘would that be too cliche’ you asked yourself, but ultimately you told yourself ‘who cares, do it’ so you did.

You surprised Dean when you stuck your torso out of the window, he immediately grabbed on to your thigh in case you accidentally slipped. You raised your arms as the wind that was way stronger whipped past you, the air was sticky which you’d guessed was from the rain that had fell a few hours prior but you could care less.

For the first time in a life time you felt completely and utterly free, from the worries of the things that lurk in the dark, from death, and disappointment. But the feel of dean hand on your thigh mixed with the wind whipping past you and through your hair made you want to cry of happiness.

Dean watched you from inside of the car, how beautiful you looked, in that moment he was convinced you were sent right from heaven into his arms just so he could live this moment. He saw all of your worries slip away as a carefree smile graces your face. The light from the streetlight lit you up like a pop star on stage and he was your audience.

You caught him even more by surprise when you let out a loud and cheery “woooo” and it seemed like time had slowed. If both of his hands weren’t occupied he would’ve taken a picture, but he couldn’t and he would have to rely on his memory to recall this moment for the rest of his life. He wasn’t even sure how he hadn’t crashed the car.

Your heart thumped loudly at the adrenaline that rushed through your veins and that’s when you decided to get back in the car. You seated yourself back on the seat and rolled up the window before letting out the most cheerful laugh Dean had ever heard from you and just the sound itself had his heart souring. “Holy. I see why they do that in movies” you said, looking at him with the most genuine smile he’d ever seen.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that took over his features at the happiness gleaming from your face. You were glowing and it was the most precious moment of his life. “You are gorgeous sweetheart” he said, he couldn’t help that it slipped past his lips, but the look on your face showed it didn’t have much of an effect on you. You rolled your eyes, still smiling “whatever, eyes on the road Winchester, I don’t want to be roadkill because you’re too distracted” you joked. Dean huffed out a laugh in response.

For the rest of the ride the two of you basked in the happiness that replaced the previous gloom. And when you arrived at the motel, Dean was the first one out the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you. “Such a gentleman, if I’d known you’d be this sweet I would’ve let you take me on a date sooner” you joked, but Dean didn’t take it as one. “Then let me” he said genuinely.

Your smile faltered, ‘is he messing with me?’ You thought “what” you said, it was the only thing you could get out. “Let me take you on a date. A real date not one where we have to look over our shoulders the whole time. Let me take out on a date to drink champagne and eat all those fancy meals that don’t even fill you up” Dean said almost sounding as if he was begging.

Dean grabbed your hands “y/n if you let me I will go the whole nine yards. Flowers, a gift, rent a fancy car and order valet whatever you-“ you cut dean off with a kiss to which he immediately returned. The kiss was soft and sweet, you could feel his eyelashes slightly brush against your cheek, and the way he relaxed into the kiss made you swoon.

His hands dropped yours and he placed his on your hips and you bought yours around his neck pulling him deeper into it. You only pulled away because your lungs had began to burn from the lack of oxygen. Deans eyes remained closed for a little longer, reveling in the feel of your lips against his and your body pressing against him. “Woman you drive me insane” he muttered before opening his eyes.

He was graced with the sight of you smiling up at him with your arms still around his neck. “You can take me on a date Winchester, but it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. We could go to a diner in baby and I’d be just as happy” you said softly, your nose brushing his.

It wasn’t often Dean was rendered speechless, but in that moment he was sure you were made for him and only him. “O-okay” he stuttered. You giggled in amusement “have I rendered you speechless?” You teased, and deans cheeks reddened. “Maybe this will knock some words back into your head” you said before pressing your lips against his for the second time, only this time you didn’t give him enough time to recuperate.

“Hey I wasn’t done” he pouted, and you laughed loudly. Pulling away from him you closed the door to baby and began to drag him back to your shared motel room with Sam who you were sure was watching you wondering why it was taking so long for you to enter the room.

“C’mon Winchester we can talk out the details later” you said grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs that led to your room.

Added bonus:

Sam had seen the blush on deans cheeks and he pure happiness in the both of your eyes. Dean quickly excused himself to the bathroom and Sam looked at you with raised brows. He’d helped you pick out that dress, telling you “Dean won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you”. You gave him the biggest smile trying to contain your excitement “it worked” you whisper yelled. A huge smile broke out on Sam’s face “I told you it would” he said.

He had been the biggest supporter of you and his brother’s possible relationship. “He asked me out Sammy” you whispered so Dean wouldn’t hear. You threw yourself on the bed like a teenager from one of those romance sitcoms you claimed to not like, but before Sam could ask for more details the bathroom door opened revealing a slightly less blushy Dean.

He eyes you two skeptically “what are you two whispering about” he asked. “Just figuring out how we’ll get the witch now” you quickly lied. If Dean suspected you were lying he didn’t show, because he immediately turned his back to you and Sam trying to get his tie off. You sent Sam a quick and subtle wink that meant ‘I’ll tell you later’ and he nodded trying to hide his smile

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 600!

Here’s a quick 30 min doodle to celebrate! :D

Man time really flies huh

Thank you guys for 3.1k btw!!!

And big thank you to those who have joined me in this wild journey of daily doodles no matter how long you’ve been here. Truly did not expect what started as a joke to make it this far lol

(more stuff I wanted to talk about under the cut)

-A few updates-

General Stuff:

Well, life has been generally pretty busy. And while that’s made it a little more challenging to do daily doodles as of late, it’s been alright for the most part. Some of you may have noticed though that a lot of my daily posts have been showing up as much as 1-2 hours later than the regular time. Unfortunately with all the stuff I’ve been taking care of lately, putting a daily doodle/drawing on top of the pile means it’ll be late very often. I kind of have an unofficial job irl now so this stuffs hard to juggle sometimes.

Hornet’s Strange Adventures:

Initially I was hoping to get a lot of stuff done for this game during October but some recent job stuff is making that pretty hard to do. I probably won’t be able to make any significant progress on this game until very late October and into November. So if you were looking forward to big updates on progress, it sadly won’t be for a while, sorry. Outside of that though, I can at least say that all the routes have been thoroughly planned out from start to finish including the secret route. This includes rewriting some choices that have already been seen during the game’s time on ssed.

About Doodle Requests

I haven’t had them open for a while anyway, but I’ve finally come to the decision that I will no longer be taking doodle requests through tumblr asks/inbox. As fun as it was in the beginning, I often found myself trying to fulfill requests on the daily and that was stressful. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stopping requests entirely. I just don’t really want to do them for free anymore. Since I’m on Hornet Journal Series still, it’s a long way away before anything happens, but there’s a likely chance I’ll only do commissioned doodle requests whenever they re-open. We’ll see as it gets closer though.

Thoughts on taking an actual break:

I’ve mentioned this a lot in the past both here on ssed and on my main blog, but I’ve been seriously considering taking a break. Like a real one. Not just a “I’m gonna stockpile a bunch of doodles and pick it back up when I run out” kind of break. Especially with the way life has been going lately (mostly positive at least), I feel as though I may have to retire from daily doodles somewhat soon if there is no official news by the time this blog hits its 2 year mark. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved doing this for the almost two years that it’s been going but at some point I’ll have to move on from this whether I like it or not. Does this mean that activity on this blog stops altogether? No. I just won’t be doing daily doodles anymore. There’s a more likely chance it would end up being weekly, or possibly monthly. Just not daily anymore.

Whatever the case, that decision will be considered more when 2 years gets closer. Until then just enjoy daily doodles while they’re still here!

—————————————————-

I think that’s all I can think of to say right now. Might post more thoughts on my main maybe?? We’ll see

Thank you again to all the lovely people that have been here during this crazy journey, you guys are awesome :D

[0x-cinder]

Fem! Reader (gendered language)has been flirting with Luffy for months, and she's starting to lose hope. Will Luffy prove her wrong?

Content Warnings: none?

Lovesickness

It was a bright, peaceful afternoon for the Strawhats. Each member enjoyed their usual activities while the captain looked out to sea atop the ship's figurehead.

You watched him from where you sat with Nico Robin as she read, holding Chopper in your lap.

Even from this angle, the captain was beautiful. His dark hair blew in the breeze as he sat, rocking side to side in contentment. You didn’t have to see it to know that he had his signature joyful smile painted all over his face.

Just imagining it made your heart flutter.

“Ugh, this is so frustrating.” You sighed, running your hands through your hair.

Nico Robin looked up from the book she was reading.”What is?”

“Luffy.” You replied.

“What about him?”

“I’ve been flirting with him for months, and he still doesn’t get it!” You exclaimed, “Not even Nami’s tips are working.”

“Luffy’s an idiot.” Chopper chimed in, still focused on the chocolate bar he was snacking on, “He’ll notice eventually.”

“Maybe it’s already working.” Robin offered, “He’s been quite touchy with you recently.”

“He’s touchy with everyone.” You deadpanned, “It’s Luffy.”

“I think that’s just your self-doubt talking.” She said, closing her book in her lap. “You don’t see what we do.”

Chopper nodded in agreement. “Robin’s right! Remember yesterday when I showed you my medical drawing, and he appeared out of nowhere just to hug you?”

You felt your cheeks begin to burn at the memory. Luffy had done similar things in the past, from randomly bringing you snacks to share to casually swinging his arm around your shoulder or linking your arm with his while walking.

“And,” Chopper continued, taking another bite of his chocolate bar, “When you asked him why, he said he ‘just felt like it’ and left?”

You cast a doubtful look at Robin, “He doesn’t do that to either of you?”

They both shook their heads.

“You know there’s only one way to find out…” Robin said with a smile, “Just tell him how you feel.”

Your eyes widened, “No! I can’t do that! What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if he doesn’t want me on the ship anymore?”

Robin chuckled. “Luffy wouldn’t kick you out. If he doesn’t feel the same, he’ll probably assume you’re confessing platonic love.”

You buried your face in your hands, “That’s even worse.”

“Well, you won’t know until you try.” Robin shrugged, opening her book and leaning back in her chair to continue reading.

You considered her words for a moment. She was right. You wouldn’t truly know how Luffy felt unless you said something to him.

“I’ll think about it.” You sighed.

Chopper shifted from your lap onto Robin’s as you stood, “I’m gonna ask Sanji for a snack.” You said before dismissing yourself.

You didn’t really need a snack, just a moment to yourself.

Robin’s words echoed through your mind as you made your way to your room.

How on earth am I supposed to tell him? You thought anxiously.

How would he react?

Would things change between us if my feelings aren't reciprocated?

Suddenly, a solid object in your path knocked you out of your thoughts. Startled, you looked up to see the beaming eyes of your captain looking back at you.

“Woah, watch where you’re going.” Luffy laughed, “What’re you thinking so hard about?”

Your heart rate picked up, “Uhm- nothing important.” You stammered.

Tell him now. Your mind screamed. Just get it over with.

“Are you okay? You look…Upset.” He asked with a concerned look, reaching out to take your arm.

You froze. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t speak.

Luffy waited for a response, his worried eyes focused on you.

You looked away and stepped around him. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” You said quietly, walking away before he could interrogate you further.

Luffy’s eyes remained on your back as you departed. He’d been happy to see you; he hadn’t spoken to you all day, and it was killing him.

Is she mad at me or something? His heart grew heavy at the thought.

Once you were out of sight, Luffy placed his hand over his chest, reacting to the unfamiliar feeling. Usually, his heart felt lighter when you were around.

“What is going on with me? Am I sick or something?” He said quietly to himself.

The captain decided he’d talk to Chopper, just to be safe, and continued in the direction you’d come from to find Chopper and Robin in the same place you’d just left them.

Chopper waved as Luffy approached and opened his mouth to greet him.

“Chopper, I think I’m sick or something.” Luffy explained before the doctor could speak, “Is there a sickness that only affects you when you’re around a certain person?”

“You mean…You think someone got you sick?” Chopper asked, confused, “What are your symptoms?”

Luffy thought for a moment before responding, “No. It’s more like…When she smiles at me, my heart starts beating weird.” He started, his ears turning a light shade of pink. “When I touch her, warmth spreads around my body like I have a fever.” He clutched his chest, still aching from seeing the conflicted look in your eyes when he'd run into you moments ago. “When she’s hurt or upset, my chest starts feeling heavy.”

“She?” Robin asked, putting her book down with a smile and shooting a knowing look at Chopper.

“Y-yeah?” Luffy replied, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “See? Just thinking about her makes me feel fuzzy.”

Robin laughed. “That’s what we call lovesickness.”

“Lovesickness…” Luffy repeated, tilting his head in confusion. His eyes darted to Chopper, “Is there a cure?”

“It’s not a real sickness that has a cure, Luffy,” Chopper grinned, “All the symptoms you’ve described tell me that you’re in love.”

Luffy’s eyes widened as it clicked in his mind. For the past month and a half, he’d spent countless hours trying to rationalize the way you made him feel but he'd just been harboring feelings for you the whole time. He felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“So this is what a crush feels like?” Luffy asked, more as a note to himself rather than a question he needed an answer to.

A wave of determination washed over him. He had to share this with you. Now that he knew what the feeling was, what it meant, he couldn’t keep it from you.

“How do I tell her? Do you think she feels the same about me?” He asked his two crewmates.

“Pick a time and a place, then tell her you want to talk to her.” Robin advised, “Then just speak from your heart.”

“Oooh! Then kiss her!” Chopper added with a nod, “That’s important.”

“Kiss her?” Luffy pondered, “But wouldn’t that be awkward if she doesn’t-"

“Don’t overthink it, Luffy. Trust us.” Chopper giggled excitedly.

Luffy turned to Robin inquisitively. She nodded in agreement.

The captain grinned. “All right. I’m gonna do it! Thanks, guys!”

“Any time.” Robin chuckled.

---

You spent the rest of the day in your room, avoiding Luffy. Completely overthinking the way you’d practically run away from him earlier.

A knock sounded at your door. “Mon amour,” Sanji’s voice said through the wood, dripping with its usual devotion, “dinner will be ready in ten. I made one of your favorites!”

“Okay, thanks, Sanji. I’ll be down in a bit,” You called, beginning to prepare yourself to leave the safety of your room.

“Also, Luffy’s looking for you.” The cook added with much less enthusiasm.

You froze, your heart pounding in your ears, “Okay” was all you said.

Sanji’s footsteps faded away, leaving you alone once again.

“Fuck it.” You said eventually, tired of wallowing in self-pity. You opened your door and made your way to the top deck.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around you from behind. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You jumped and spun around to face Luffy, “Jeez, you scared me, Lu!”

He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry, I’ve just been lookin’ for you everywhere. I’ve got somethin’ to tell you.”

“Okay?” You fiddled with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s important.” He looked around, “But not here. Follow me.”

The captain grabbed your hand and began leading you towards the front of the ship.

He stopped just before the ship’s figurehead and turned to you, taking both of your hands in his. “Okay. This is my favorite place on the ship, so I think this is a good spot.” He fidgeted nervously, and his expression turned serious.

“Luffy, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Luffy took a deep breath, squeezing your hands gently.

Then he brought his lips down onto yours.

Your eyes widened in shock as your body tensed.

Luffy slid his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Warmth radiated through your body, and you relaxed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

It was a soft, affectionate kiss. The captain

kept his hands where they were despite wanting to touch elsewhere. He wanted to claim every part of you as his. He'd watched Nami demolish Sanji enough times to be wary of how he touched women.

You pulled away after a moment, needing a moment to process the event.

Luffy tilted his head in confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, no, that was…” you looked away shyly, “...Good.”

Luffy smiled his wide, goofy smile. “That’s a relief; I thought you were gonna turn me down for a second.”

“Why would I ever do that? You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

He tensed, his ears turning a vibrant shade of pink. “I am?”

You nodded.

His smile grew even more comprehensive, “Then you’re the kindest, funniest, and most beautiful woman I’ve met.”

“Luffy! Get your dirty paws off her!” Sanji’s angry voice sounded from the deck below, interrupting the moment you and Luffy were in the middle of. “Dinner’s ready!”

Luffy laughed, ignoring Sanji’s demand to let you go. “Finally! I'm starving!”

“You're always hungry, Luffy.” You chuckled.

“I can't help it! I gotta have enough energy to protect what's mine.” He winked, “Let's go eat!”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You were his.

[therealflickerman]

Split Lips (tasm!peter parker x reader)

Part four

series summary: Its simple hating peter parker, the cocky asshole who has made it his mission to one up you every chance he gets. In the same vein, its simple loving spiderman, the sweet masked vigilante who has made it his mission to ensure your safety. How simple will it be when the two worlds meet.

______________________________________________________________

chapter summary: You try your hardest to hide what you can from Peter though you can't help when secrets slip through your fingers.

word count: 6.5k (i cooked a little)

chapter contents: angst?, mention of death, mention of parental death, mention of cancer, reader is described to b shorter than Flash (6’1),  reader is intended to be fem! , language, reader is anxious and a mess, bullying kinda?

note: hi guys!!! This chapter is like INSANELY late but it's also the longest chapter by far so I hope I’ve made it up to you guys… This chapter gets only a little deep but I hope you enjoy how I've written the reader and her mum and I hope I've done the themes justice!!! 

masterlist

series masterlist

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four (ongoing!)

“Maths, History, Bio” the words quietly slip past your lips as you count your textbooks carefully, ensuring each and everyone of them are there. Pressing your forehead against the cool of your locker, your eyes flutter shut and you draw a sharp breath, holding it in for a split second before finally releasing it alongside your jaw, clenched shut almost painfully. You pull away from the safety of the metal, words role over in your mind as you prepare for the day,

BAM

Your locker slams inches from your face. 

The loud bang of metal against metal rings through the busy hallway drawing the attention of a couple stray students, including yourself as you jump back softly, your hands clenching around your textbooks extra tightly as they threaten to slip through your fingers.

Your eyes flick to the perpetrator and you feel your jaw clench as nerves buzz in your fingertips. 

“What Flash,” 

It slips softly past your lips before you can stop yourself and anxiety turns in your gut as you wish you’d simply ignored him.

“I was wondering what you were doing tonight,”

His eyes watch you eagerly, like he’s hungry for the reaction you’ll inevitably give him. 

You swallow the anxiety that grows a lump in your throat and turn to head for the serenity of your History class. You have to remind yourself that he wants the reaction, he’s starving for it. 

He’s quick to follow you, sending a look to his friends that gather in a circle a little way across the hall. You hear the familiar sound of soft snickers and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

Trying your hardest to keep a poker face you press your lips into a tight line, you’d rather set yourself on fire than give Flash a reaction to laugh about with his stupid friends. 

“I know you’re probably super busy with all those friends you have, so I just wanted to check,”

His lips curl into a shit-eating grin, you fight an expression that threatens to grow on your face. You won’t give him the satisfaction, you entirely refuse. 

Keeping focused on the goal of your History classroom, you swerve through the other students that crowd the halls.

“C’mon,”

He just about corners you against the lockers as you walk shoulder to shoulder with them, dribbling his basketball he follows closely, the sound rings out obnoxiously much as his voice does. 

You can’t seem to find your voice, you keep your eyes ahead and continue on track, praying silently for him to leave you alone, the interaction turns our gut and you slip your lip between your teeth where it belongs. 

“C’mon, stop walking away from me,” 

His voice raises slightly, his hand coming out in front of you and you’re quick to stop in your tracks. His palm leans against the locker as he looks down at you through his eyelashes. He waits eagerly for a reaction, practically starved for it. 

You kiss your teeth with a clench of your jaw, as you try to slip from the barrier he’s created and a laugh bubbles from his chest as you hand feed him what he’s been waiting for. 

“Flash,”

A shot of relief floods your veins, it’s sweet, almost addictive, and your eyes seek the face to match that voice you know all too well. 

“Can’t you see we’re talking Parker,”

Flash shoots Peter a grin, not particularly concerned with convincing him of anything.

“Does she know that?”

Peter asks, his tone sardonic. 

Flash rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth as he turns to look at his surroundings. A frustrated sigh bubbles in his chest as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it with a clench of his jaw, not bothered to start anything especially as so many teachers roam the halls, rushing students to their classes. 

He turns back to you, sending a wink as he slips away, quick to walk back to his friends that await him. It’s as if they crave the humiliation they give other people, it’s their life source and you feel gross just thinking about it. 

A soft groan slips past your lips, “thank you.”

He offers a shrug, a smile sat upon his lips as he watches you. His gaze is sweet, it's night and day compared to Flash’s hungry eyes. Your feet scuff against the vinyl as you slip next to him, far less eager to get to class this time around. 

“He will just not leave me alone you know? It’s kind of getting embarrassing on his part, like he does the same bit everyday. I don’t think he has a whole lot going on up there, not super creative.” 

You mumble softly, a grin slipping onto your face, Peter shakes his head with a laugh. 

“I’m pretty sure he’s got a little brain damage from all that sport so don’t take it to heart,”

He draws a giggle from your lips, “I don’t think I’ve ever taken anything he’s said to heart.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you make it to class. Words roll around on your tongue, you fight to push them out. 

“I was thinking maybe you’d wanna…  would you wanna study again tonight?” The words slip out. 

The two of you had spent many afternoons of the past week at the library, your noses between books, studying your hearts out before grabbing coffee, if you're honest it’s the most productive you’ve been in a long while. You hate to give him his praise but having someone as genius as Peter to bounce ideas off of has opened a whole new playing field and you’re not sure you can go back to ten minute mind blanks and groans of frustration. 

On the other hand you’ve never been more busy in your typically lacklustre life, you feel a bit like Spiderman yourself with all the running around you’ve found yourself managing. It was school, then work, or study, or both. Then home, just in the nick of time, all for Spiderman to swing you through the city before returning you to your bed at some ungodly hour. It was… nice, at least it was exciting, something vastly different compared to the eat, sleep, school repeat you’ve known for the past few years of your life. 

“Yeah of course, I was gonna ask anyway, so-”

“Maybe you could… um come to my place instead of the library?”

You spit out, cutting Peter off.

“My mums gonna be home, like, kinda early tonight so she’s um… making, like, a nice dinner and I thought you could join us?”

The words flow quickly and you’re unable to stop them as they spew from your lips, 

“I’d love to,”

He hums, a soft smile curling onto his lips

“I’m sure you would, ‘can put my address in your stalker journal,”

A scoffed laugh spits from his lips as his grin grows.

“How do you know I don’t already know where you live,”

“I’d be a little worried if you already knew where I lived,”

______________________________________________________________

Your foot taps rapidly against the concrete floor, a spit of anxiety turning in your stomach as your eyes dart around the city. ‘Please god do not show up,’ you watch with furrowed eyes for a flash of red and blue. 

“You waiting on someone?”

The voice rips you from your contraction and you jump slightly as you turn to find Peter and his stupid grin

“Only you,”

You swallow the lump in your throat and a smile plays across your face. 

“How was photography?”

Your eyes flick to his face, watching him as the two of you make the slow walk to the subway. 

“Good,” he hums with a smile, “I got an A+ on that assignment,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it were nothing, though you personally know he’d practically pulled his hair out with stress over it. 

“Look at you go, Mr Humble,” you nudge him softly, “bet you picked the photo I told you to go with,” 

You lend him a grin and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

“That is a possibility.”

“Hey, you’ll… you’ll tell me if Flash bothers you more?”

Peter mumbles softly, he swallows, feeling stupid as the question slips from his lips, though it spills anyway.

You watch his face, giving him a suspicious eye as a grin tugs at your lips. 

“You gonna do something about it?”

He rolls his eyes, his head shaking,“I might.” 

You hum suspiciously with a nod and it's followed by a giggle. 

“Hey you don’t know what I’m capable of,”.

“I know Flash is, like, a six foot one athletic scholar,” 

He leans his softly, “yeah but I have something he doesn’t,”

“What would that be Peter?”

“A brain.” 

You roll your eyes and push his face away with the palm of your hand. 

The sound of the city seeps into the subway carriage, it’s fairly empty and just about silent besides the racket of Peter’s voice as he talks of his next photography assignment, very passionately if you may add. He thinks it's stupid that they grade photography, he believes art is immeasurable, whether he’d simply rather an easier class or is genuinely passionate about the topic you can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips as he rambles. Either way it ‘isn’t like he has room to complain, the fact that it is in fact graded means he gets to be top of his class’, you roll your eyes as he tells you he’s only joking. 

You find yourself slowly drifting, your eyes keep on him as you mind wonders and a small smile finds itself on your lips.  

If it weren't for Peter you’d be sitting alone right now, packed into whatever carriage you had found. You’d listen to music loud enough to hurt your ears and you’d pick at your nails, or maybe you’d let your teeth at your lower lip. Your brain would mull over the day and you’d swallow the anxieties that pile themselves in your throat. 

“Am I boring you?”

Peter's face comes into focus, his smile is sweet as he watches you drift off.

“No! no no no… sorry,” you swallow with a blink, “sorry I got lost in thought,” you shake your head with an apology, “continue.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest and he shakes his head softly, “you’re good, I get um… I think I get a little too excited about photography sometimes.”

“Oh god no, I like hearing about your photography, trust me. It's refreshing to hear someone my age be so passionate about something,” Your tone couldn’t be more genuine.

“Really?” He smiles and you return it with a nod. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the subway's intercom system announces your stop, “I’m sorry I am. I promise I’m interested but this is our stop,”

You mumble with an apologetic expression as you stop him before he can speak. He giggles with a soft, “okay.” 

______________________________________________________________

Peter's voice reverberates through the quiet backstreets as you both walk side by side, heading back to your apartment. He talks of how he got into photography, how he enjoys being able to capture a moment in time, he views it as a sacred process. You watch his face light up as he speaks and you can’t help the bright grin curled onto your lips, unconsciously matching the smile on his face. You listen intensely as he speaks so passionately.

You’re grateful for the moment, there's no weird tension between the two of you, no bickering or teasing, you’re not on your toes trying to keep up with his stupid remarks. You’re simply indulged in his words, in a part of his mind that he’s sharing with you. 

Your grin grows. 

“What about you, what are you like… into?” he asks, his tone almost catches you off guard, it’s sickeningly sweet. 

You have to think for a moment, “um I don’t know… nothing I guess,” a shrug pulls at your shoulders.

“C’mon there's gotta be something.”

You think of the eat, sleep, school repeat cycle you’ve been living for the past however many years, each day full of so much nothing. Looking back you genuinely do wonder what you did to pass the time and nothing comes to mind.

The only things that happen in your life are Peter and Spiderman, and you can’t say, ‘actually you’re my hobby. And also Spiderman, don’t know if you’ve heard of him.’ 

“Hmm, nope, nothing, I study… I… I don't know, I work.” You shrug.

‘What about the posters on the wall, the music you’re always listening to, the movies you’re always watching at night,’ the words dangle on his tongue and he bites down, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“I don’t believe that,” he opts for this. 

“Believe it, you’ve befriended a bore,” 

He rolls his eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips as he denies this. You’re being stubborn.

“Believe what you want, it's the truth.”  You shrug. 

He hums softly, his eyes keep on you and the remains of a smile stay evident on his lips.

______________________________________________________________

The familiar apartment building comes into view, he swallows softly, and can’t seem to pull his eyes from your face. He rolls over words in his mind, ‘you’ve never been in her room, you don’t know which apartment is hers, etc.’ He almost feels sick at the thought of slipping up.

“You’d think big hot shot Oscorp would pay well enough for an apartment complex but I guess one income slows us down.” 

You send your shoulder into the weighted door and lend an awkward smile as you hold the door for him, mumbling an apology about the climb to the fifth story.

“Your mum works at Oscorp?” he asks softly, there's something else to his tone and you can’t quite place it. You ultimately decide to blame it on the stairs, despite not being a quarter way to the top. 

“You got a problem with Oscorp?” you tease, looking to the step behind you as you watch Peter make the climb with ease.

“No, no, it’s just… I don’t know,” He curses himself as no answer comes to mind, god he’s already slipped up. His heart beats softly against his chest and he releases a breath as you hum, dropping it.

“Well she loves it, that's why she’s out so late almost every night, they’re working on this um, DNA thing… I don’t know, her boss is missing an arm, it's, like, something to do with that. You ask her about it at dinner, she’ll love you forever.”

His breath catches in his throat and it’s followed by a gross feeling that spins his gut, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his cheek as you mention doctor Curtis Connors.

He tries to not let it bother him, in fact he feels guilty that it does, it’s not as though you’re his problem. 

His mind flicks to the suit in his backpack, maybe he doesn’t have a choice in whether you’re his ‘problem’ or not anymore. 

“Geez Peter I didn’t know you worked out, you haven’t even broken a sweat.” You huff, conquering the last step. 

Yes, you may over exaggerate but five stories of stairs is enough to make anyone a little breathless. “I work out,” he scoffs with a small smile. You take one look up and down, eyes trailing across his tall lanky build. With a raise of an eyebrow,  you hum a soft “Mhm”. He rolls his eyes and it pulls a giggle from your lips. 

Your hands fumble around in your pocket and you pull out your house key, wiggling it around in the old lock before it finally opens with a heavy shove of the door. 

“Hey mum!” You call out softly, holding the door open for Peter. Your mother stands in the kitchen, she’s chopping vegetables and humming along to soft music as it plays from her own old record player, she’s got it on her fifteenth birthday and she adores the thing. 

“Hey love,” She hums, her eyes flicking up from the task at hand. 

“Oh and this must be Peter.” 

You send her a pressed smile, widening your eyes as if to say, ‘embarrass me and I will kill you,’ though she retaliates with a little wink and you groan. 

“I’ve heard so much about you Peter,” she continues to cut carrots. 

Peter sends you a smug grin. 

“You have?”

“Oh for sure, all good things… most good things,” she hums with a shrug and a smile. 

“I’m just glad she’s making friends-”

“Okay mum, we’re gonna go study,” You cut her off with a tight smile, she laughs with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand, “have fun!” 

“I’m sorry about her,” You huff with a smile, the tips of your ears burn and you feel yourself blushing. 

You lean your school bag against your bed and let him know he can put his stuff anywhere. 

Walking over to your desk, he leans his bag against the leg before settling comfortably into the seat.

Your brows furrow with a small smile, watching him as you take a seat against your bed. “You have a habit of making yourself comfortable,” you giggle with a shake of your head. 

“Oh I… sorry I, remember you saying you always study on your bed.” Nerve drips from his words as he sits up right. 

“No no, you’re good,” you smile with a shake of your head, “and you’re right,” you pull your things from your bag, setting stuff out the way you like it. 

He curses himself silently, ‘you’ve never been here before Peter,’ he reminds himself and his eyes scan your room, his sight falls on your posters,  the one he’d seen almost twice a night for the past week or so.

“Nice posters,” he hums.

Your eyes flick up as he speaks, the way he says it scratches a nerve in your brain, like it was familiar. 

You hum softly flipping open your Bio textbook, “thank you, it’s taken me ages to collect them all.”

Peter swallows dryly. 

“You said you didn’t have any hobbies,” his eyes keep on you. 

“Collecting posters isn’t… doing something though, like… writing or… taking photos,” you point to him with your pencil. 

“I guess…” He sits for a moment. “What about watching movies, I mean you’ve gotta love ‘em to have this many posters,” 

“Eh, I don’t think that counts”

“Oh c’mon that totally counts”

“Does it?” you shrug. 

“Whatever, we'll find you something.”

You look up to him with a smile, he gets his stuff out, placing it on your desk. 

“You know I am good at one thing…” You mumble, his head shoots up, “it’s called studying, and it’s going to help me get into a very nice university so that I can be good at things for money” 

You tease, drawing a humoured scoff from Peter. 

The two of you sit for a good while, faces buried in books, bouncing ideas and questions off of one another as you scribble messy notes. Stupid jokes and shared giggles pull the both of you from study, for minutes at a time you clutch your stomachs in laughter, textbooks forgotten until you find your way back on track. It leaves your stomach muscles beat, exhausted from curling in on itself as huffs of giggles slip from your lips. 

You now watch as he reads a particular section of his textbook, faced away from you with his eyes focused so desperately on the page, your teeth seek your lip, sinking into its flesh without mercy. A feeling settles deep in your gut, turning your stomach and all of sudden you feel ill, despite it you can’t seem to pull your eyes from the brown haired boy. It’s all too familiar but you refuse it, swallowing dryly before you can bring yourself to put a name to the feeling. 

Peter can feel you staring, he can feel the intensity of your gaze burning into his temple, a feeling he’s grown accustomed to. He’s not sure if it’s his ‘Spidey-Senses’ or because he just knows you but he can feel it. Maybe it's a mix of both with all the time he’s spent with you, with all the time you’ve spent on his mind. 

A smile tugs on his lips and he can’t seem to stifle it as it grows into a grin. 

Your eyes flick back down to your page, you practically wrangle them there. The lump in your throat is stubborn, no matter how much you swallow it sits there stubbornly and you try your best to ignore it. Now is not the time, your eyes flick up once again, especially as he sits in your desk chair, slumped over with his nose in his textbook, innocently in his own world and doing his school work just as you should be. 

The rapid knock of your door pulls you from thought, “dinners ready love,” your mum's voice calls out muffled through the wood. “M’kay,” you hum, loud enough for her to hear it, letting out a silent huff, a poor attempt at settling the unplaceable feeling in your stomach. 

A stiff silence settles over the three of you, broken by the sound of quiet chewing and cutlery scraping against your mothers ‘nice’ dinner plates. You’re all packed onto a small dining table, designed for just two people, your knee brushes against Peters and you meet his eyes with a silent apology. 

“So I um, heard you work at Oscorp,” He swallows, keeping his eyes on you before flicking them to your mother with a smile.

“Oh yeah? She told you about that huh,” your mother sends you a grin.

“I mean they’re doing insane work, really I shouldn’t even be talking about it, but it’s just so fascinating.” 

Peter nods along, you can’t help the smile that clings to your lips, unable to draw your eyes from him as he entertains your mother’s chattering.

“Its um… well lizards, right, they can regrow limbs, it's really quite fascinating, comes from years of evolution and adapting, I’ll spare the boring details,” she waves a dismissive hand, “we’re taking this aspect of their DNA and attempting to create a serum that can prompt human cells into preforming blastema-based regeneration. What that means is-”

“Mum Peter is like a grade A genius, don't worry,” you mumble, cutting her off. 

His lips curl into a smile, and he meets your eyes as you return the grin. 

“So you like science Peter?” Your mum asks. 

“Oh yeah, I um.. I love it,” He wears a lopsided smile, as he fumbles to answer the question. He watches you in the corner of his vision, checking to see if he’s said the right thing, and another grin slips onto your lips. You eye him as he stumbles over his words, looking for your approval and you lend a soft nod as your smile grows. 

“So that’s what you wanna do? Go into science I mean,” She asks, taking a fork full of food in her mouth. 

“Well I, um…”

“Peter’s actually a really talented photographer, so he’s still working things out.” You hum with a nod, sensing the nerves radiating off of him, he sends a grateful smile. 

“Oh yeah? My husband loved photography.”

You flinch a little at her words as she mentions your dad. It was true, he had spent a lot of his life taking photos, they were amazing too. He had never turned it into a career though, you had assumed it was because of some moral obligation he had to take care of you and your mum, he refused to even entertain the idea in fear of halving the household funds and leaving the both of you struggling, well look where you are now. 

Peter sends you a look, a quick flick of his eyes and you know what it represents. You opt to lend a small smile with nothing behind it, it’s a poor attempt at returning to any form of normalcy you could get your hands on and he returns it, submitting to this attempt. 

You make a note to talk to Peter about your dad later, it wasn't as though you had tried to hide any of… what had happened, it just never came up. Maybe deep down you liked it that way and maybe in a way you had tried to hide it, though you’re quick to swallow any guilt that threatens to build as you return to the normalcy that you and Peter had silently decided upon. 

Peter clears his throat with a hum. “Yeah, I just… love having the ability to capture a moment in time, I think it helps me get a grasp on reality. I would spend all my time taking photos if I could.”

Your mum hums with a smile and a soft nod, of course she liked that answer. She’s so insanely passionate sometimes that it scares you, up until two am most nights working on her research, not eating all day just to purely save time, you’re not sure how she’s still running. Seeing her daughter hanging out with someone at all, let alone someone so driven, is probably sending her insane with pure relief. 

“As long as you’re passionate about whatever you do,” Your mum nods, taking a sip of her wine glass. 

You smile with a shake of her head, she’s so predictable, it's sweet. You’re grateful for her, god, more than grateful for her, you’re not sure where on earth you’d be without her. 

“Oscorp isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, the field of science is very dangerous if you ever do go into it. The other day Peter-” she leans in with another sip of her wine, “there was this giant lizard monster god, I don’t know what he was but he injured about ten people, I’m sure you heard it on the news, that Spiderboy was there.”

“It’s Spiderman mum, and that isn’t because you work in science it's because you live in New York.” You correct her with a roll of your eyes, it was a conversation the two of you had had about five times since that night and if you heard about how ‘Spiderboy’ had made the whole situation worse one more time you’re sure you’d rip your hair out. 

“I don’t care what his name is, he totaled my car,” “The lizard did mum, not Spiderman, he’s just trying to help-”

Peter can’t stop the grin that curls at his lips as you unknowingly defend him. He watches as you toy with your food, giving up as your mother insists that Spiderman is doing more harm than good. 

“What do you think Peter, about this ‘Spiderman’ I mean,” Your mum hums, taking another bite of her food. His eyes flicker to you, and he hesitantly gives his opinion, “I think that he does good where he can…at least I think he intends to. I mean think about what could have happened if he wasn't there.”

You nod stubbornly with a fold of your arms, “Exactly.”

Your mum rolls her eyes with a small smile and a shrug as she washes down the food in her mouth with a sip from her glass, “I guess,” she mumbles hesitantly and you too roll your eyes with a giggle. 

Peter smiles, his eyes keeping on you. “What got you working at Oscorp,” He takes a sip of his water. 

“Well I always adored science, all through school. I graduated, y’know researched with a couple of small corporations near home. Then, after her dad died, I just decided lifes too short, I quickly applied to Oscorp, we moved here, and the rest is history.” 

There it is. 

An unease settles in your stomach and your focus turns to the food chewing in your mouth, it doesn’t really bother you, at least that's what you tell yourself. It was obvious your dad wasn’t around anymore, for one reason or another, but it felt too vulnerable for him to know that he was actually dead. The thought rolls around in your head and you swallow it with your dinner. You had planned to tell Peter, though it isn’t like you need to, you don't owe it to him. Still, you feel something build in your stomach as you realise that maybe you had actively avoided it in conversation, maybe even lied during the process and you quickly realise you’re filled with some sick mix of embarrassment and guilt.

You feel Peter glancing at you, his gaze is soft and his eyes flick between you and your mother as she continues to talk and he continues to nod along. You meet his eyes, deciding that facing whatever you’re feeling is far less embarrassing than closing up like you’re used to. You can’t place the emotions behind his eyes but nevertheless he offers a smile, it’s void of pity and you realise that deep down that was what you feared most from his reaction. You return the smile, it’s grateful though you don’t particularly mean for it to be, and the two of you once again silently agree to bask in normality until dinner is over. 

______________________________________________________________

The both of you sit on your bed in silence, it's comfortable but there’s an all too familiar feeling of anxiety settled in your stomach. Your mind rolls over words, they hang on the tip of your tongue as you wrack your brain on how to start the conversation. 

“When I was six my parents went on a work trip and never came back,” Peter lets out, taking the blow for you. His eyes find you, you’re focused on the tips of your fingers as they fiddle with one another. He hears your breathing hitch, your heartbeat speed up, he watches as you try to find the words. 

“Pet-”

“My Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in, and then…. a couple of months ago Ben was killed in a robbery,” 

You shut your mouth tightly, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your cheeks as you fight to find the words and suddenly you don’t feel so angry at each relative that told you ‘they were sorry’ and ‘they were here for you,’ because… what do you say?

You swallow, your teeth unlatching around your cheek, and open your mouth to speak once again, 

“I just mean… you don’t have to feel weird or… I don’t know, ashamed about it… okay? Not with me.” 

His voice is soft, his eyes watch you so intensely, it’s like he’s looking at you for the first time, like really looking at you. Noticing each wrinkle in your expression, each imperfection that litters your skin, although this time it’s with his own two eyes, not shrouded by the mask he was once so grateful for.

“He died when I was fifteen…it was um, cancer,” you nod softly, keeping your eyes down, you’re not too sure why but it feels better, easier to talk, like you can breathe. 

“We packed up, like, straight away and mum immediately started working for Dr Connors. She thinks that she can like, find a cure or… I don’t know…” You curse yourself for rambling about it as you realise this wasn’t one of the venting circles in one of the libraries your mum had signed you up to. 

You swallow, biting the bullet and looking up to meet Peter's eyes. You’re not entirely sure what you had expected but when you finally meet them you don’t find the look of condolence that you’ve grown so accustomed to. You find a pure mix of kindness and worry and it spins your gut, this time with gratitude. 

You lend him a smile, it’s grateful, and understanding, it tells him what you don’t trust your words to and he returns it sweetly. 

“Even in dead relatives I’m ahead of you,” he elbows your arm and it's noticeably more gentle than usual.

A laugh bubbles in your chest and you shake your head with an eye roll. 

“Oh my god,” you hum and it draws a giggle from his lips. 

“You’re close with your aunt?” You ask gently as the laughter dies down between the two of you, you’ve found peace within his eye sight as you keep steady eye contact with him for maybe the first time since you've known him. 

He hums with a nod of his head and a smile curls onto his lips. It’s sweet. 

“You’re close with your mum?” He asks, his tone is almost cautious, though he doesn’t mean it to be. He had spent a whole hour at your dinner table and still couldn’t grasp the dynamic between the two of you. 

You hum a soft laugh with a nod of your head, “yeah, we are. It’s… complicated, my dad’s death fucked with her super bad but she’s still my best friend, kind of my only friend.”

He smiles, a sound of understanding slips from his lips. 

“Were you um… close with your dad?” He prays he hasn’t overstepped a line, his teeth catch on his lips as the words slip from them and he feels oddly close to you as he sinks teeth into flesh. 

You smile, looking down at your hands, “yeah… super close,” it’s all you say though he takes it with gratitude. 

“What about you, were you close with your parents, with your Uncle?” You look back up at him and meet his eyes, they never seem to leave you, it’s something you’d noticed. 

He nods, a smile slipping onto lips much like you had done. “My parents died when I was pretty young so, yes… but also no.” You nod along, watching him closely. “But I was super close with Ben.” You feel like maybe you opened something you shouldn't have as you remember that it hasn’t been long since his passing. You watch the creasing in Peter's expression and you quickly feel guilt fill your stomach as your own brows furrow. 

“I’m sorry Peter I shouldn’t-”

“No, god no I asked first- no, don’t do that,” His soothes quietly, shutting down your guilt. 

You nod softly as he continues.

“He was like a dad to me so… yeah.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the air filled with a feeling of understanding and the both of you settle into it. 

“I should um, maybe get going,” He mumbles, it’s a cop out, the both of you know it, the both of you have become accustomed to it. 

“You can stay Peter,” 

His almost frantic movements stop, his eyes find yours, he wouldn't go as far as to say they’re begging but they’re big and asking him to stay in the warmth of your room and who is he to say no to you. 

“We can watch a movie… or-”

“I would really like that.”

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes glance over to him, his face lit up by the screen of your laptop. The two of you sit comfortably in your bed, backs propped up against the wall, an awkwardly large space between the two of you, you’re overly conscious of it as you try your hardest to keep your eyes on the screen and your limbs to yourself. In your uncomfort your eyes flick to your watch, checking the time and your stomach turns with anxiety as a thought pops into your head. You frantically flick your eyes to the window, trying your hardest to keep your ‘cool’ exterior in front of Peter though you’re now busy attempting to prepare for the inevitable. There hasn’t been a night in the past week where Spiderman hasn’t shown up at your window cill, absolutely bursting to tell you about his night. Many nights he’d sit in the very chair Peter had, chatting your ear off for hours until you had to shoo him from your room to save at least four hours of sleep before you had to get up for school. You swallow your nerves, taking a deep breath, soft enough for Peter to miss it, at least you hope he misses it, and you try to make up some sort of plan.

Peter was… cool about it, he appreciated what Spiderman did. He actually never really spoke about him, in fact he was a little weird about him, though you’re not complaining, if Peter tried to subtly shut down most conversations about him, it meant you didn’t need to subtly avoid most conversations about him. 

You’re only now realising it seemed like a sensitive topic and you pray to god Spidey didn’t have some unfortunate involvement with his uncle's death, that would make it a little awkward if, or when, he shows up at your window. 

You swallow, bringing your eyes back to the movie, you’re choosing to push all rational thoughts out of your mind as you do so, you’re going to sit here and focus on the film and not focus on how you wouldn’t be able to hand another of your secrets getting spilt, not that you had any others to spill after Spidey. 

Peter's eyes watch you in his peripheral vision, watching as your vision linger on the window cill. 

“Shit,” the word slips from his lips before he can stop it and it instantly catches your attention.

“What's up?” You ask, sitting up gently. 

Fuck, he curses himself silently though he quickly realises he’s given himself the perfect out. “I just realised that May said she wanted me home half an hour ago, I’m so sorry, I-” he jumps from your bed. 

“You’re fine, really. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Your voice comes out far more enthusiastic than you had hoped for and you cringe as the words leave your lips. 

Peter nods with a sheepish smile, backpack in hand as he stands at your bedroom door, “thank you for having me,” he mumbles. His words are genuine and the feeling in your gut that you entirely refuse to recognise is back, nagging at your heart. 

“No problem,” you hum softly, returning the sheepish smile. 

He’s gone in a flash, with a slam of your door, a little harder than he had anticipated, and a soft ‘sorry!’ from the other side of the wood. You let out a breath of relief, your teeth sinking into your lip as you do so. Your mind plays over the day as you slip your laptop into your school bag and lay on your bed. You’re grateful Peter knows about your dad, at least you think you are. It makes you feel vulnerable, he can take one look at the life you lead and understand why you are, where you are, now that he has the missing piece of the puzzle. You guess it goes both ways, though he seems so put together and you quickly become jealous over how well he’s able to hide his grief, then again you know it isn’t something to wish for and you swallow as you remind yourself that there are so many parts of him that you don't see.

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The Train Station: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @hangmanscoming @goldensunshine91

Companion piece to:

The Vet - Rip comes face to face with a nightmare.

Broken - Travis recieves a phone call from Rip regarding you and Malcom Beck.

You’re leaning against the hood of the truck, the headlights silhouetting your form when Rip returns from rolling both of the Beck’s bodies into the canyon. Despite all the illegal shit the two of you have done together over the past few hours apparently disposal of a body is where he draws the line. It doesn’t matter that you shot Teal Beck in the head after he laughed about the state his brother had left Gina in or that you watched him take Malcolm Beck apart piece by piece. When it comes to getting rid of a corpse Rip Wheeler is practically a gentlemen.

“You doing ok?” He asks as he takes up residence alongside of you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You’ve seen a lot of heavy shit tonight.”

“I’ve seen worse, done worse.” You say quietly, nudging his shoulder. “What about you, you doing ok?”

The fact you are even asking is a testament to your strength and character. Most women would have run for the hills by now but you’re still here, asking after his wellbeing despite the fact you have blood and brain matter splattered across your clothing.

He’s always held a part of himself back from you because he’s never wanted the darkness that resides deep down in his soul to taint what the two of you have. It’s only now that he’s realising there’s a little darkness in you too.

You hadn’t hesitated when you pulled the trigger on Teal Beck, you hadn’t flinched when he pressed the Glock against each of Malcolm Beck’s joints and blown a hole in every single one of them. You’d helped him roll up the bodies in tarp, hose down the inside of the stable, you’d even tried scrubbing the blood out of the floor in the cottage but there are somethings a stain like that just won’t come out of.

It's when you get back to the foreman’s house that he starts the burn barrel. He keeps it around the back in the yard for when he needs to get rid of shit. The train station may supply a certain amount of discretion but Rip isn’t taking any chances, not when it comes to you.

“Take your clothes off.” He orders when the fire is hot enough and you strip down to your underwear under his unrelenting gaze. “Panties and bra too honey. All of it’s got to go.”

You toss the bundle of clothes into the flames and the smoke plumes into the air with a shower of sparks. You look gorgeous in the warm glow, the scars from your time abroad, highlighted on your skin as you raise your eyes to meet his and whisper the words.

“Your turn.”

Everything goes in the barrel save for his hat and boots. He sets them on the wooden lawn chair instead. His gaze is still locked on yours as when approaches you, his fingertips brush stray strand of hair back behind your ear.

“Do you like what you see?” His asks you, his voice raw as he looks into your eyes.

You know what he’s asking, do you love me, the real me?

The one that was forged in blood, who’ll probably die the same way.

“I do.” You whisper as you raise up on tiptoes and kiss his mouth. “God help me Rip but  do.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ficmashup]

Caretaker

A/N: I should probably put summaries on these, but I'm terrible at brevity. Clearly. But wow some people actually like this and I'm blushing and kicking my feet. :) Thanks for interacting! Sorry this one is a bit more team-based than Price-based, but honestly the way to that man's heart is through his men. He's such a dad and I love him for it.

Warnings: Vague SA references or similar trauma, stabbing, harsh language, f!reader, talk of being shot, wound care.

Word Count: 3.8k

Feral Masterlist

What really puts the team and I’s tenuous connection to the test is when Soap gets stabbed.

We’re two months in. I’m just a soldier and medic today, on the ground with the rest of the group as we clear a warehouse storing some enemy supplies that we’re…appropriating. My focus is razor sharp, easily directing my hyperactive fight or flight instinct into looking around every corner and keeping a sharp ear out for any noise. Soap and Ghost are on the other side of the building doing the same, Price pulling up the rear.

Gaz and I both hear the scuffle and stop in our tracks before Ghost’s voice comes over coms. “Soap’s hit. Eastern corner.” We start moving immediately and I slide my gun wrapped around my body to my back as we reach them, the boys already forming a circle around Soap as they watch his back. I’m on my knees at his side the second I reach him, my hand pushing down hard on his thigh as I take in the handle sticking out just above his hip.

His body is held taut and his jaw is locked, clearly trying to stay quiet and still. “Alright, Soap, I’ve got you.” I murmur while Price gives orders to the boys. Gaz and him split up, more than likely going to clear the rest of the building while Ghost stays in the shadows next to me to watch our backs.

Soap grunts. “Good to know, G.”

I guide his hand to my knee and press it there so he can squeeze when the pain gets too bad. It helps my patient and gives me a good indicator of their pain levels. My fingers are ginger as I rip his shirt a bit more, moving it and his tac vest up enough to see the wound. “Didn’t hit anything vital, you lucky bastard. I can patch you up here, then treat this properly at camp.” I’m already doing it as I tell him, my med-kit open on the concrete floor beside me. I gather two pills in my hand and reach up, tilting his chin to look at me. “Swallow.” His eyes widen a touch and he lets me slip the pills past his lips before his throat flexes as he swallows. “Good. Those will kick in and take away some of the pain on the walk back, but I can’t wait until then. So, I need you hold onto me because this’ll hurt like a bitch.”

I hold his gaze, making sure he knows I mean it and he nods. With gauze packed around the blade, I yank it out without hesitation and Soap chokes. “Fuck.” He curses and his fists clench, his fingers digging into my thigh while I move quickly to staunch the blood flow. Price and Gaz return, nodding to Ghost to give the all clear. The warehouse is empty except for us.

“And here I was thinking Scots were more creative with their cursing.” I goad him a bit to distract him and he huffs a laugh.

“If you wanted me to teach you curses, lass, you should have asked.”

“Think I just did. You going to disappoint a girl?”

Another dry chuckle leaves him and I glance at his face to see a crooked smile despite the pain. “Ah, well, awa’ n bile yer heid is Ghost’s favorite. Means go fuck yourself.” The aforementioned soldier grumbles as he slides through the shadows to settle a few feet from Soap’s head.

“Shouldn’t have gotten him started. Now he won’t shut up.” Gaz comments good-naturedly from my left, he and Price watching as I work. That’s exactly my plan. If Soap’s talking, he’s not thinking about the pain.

“Definitely seems like Ghost’s favorite. Does he hear it often?” I’m nearly done now as I make sure the bandages are as tight as I can safely make them while holding Soap’s gaze again, drawing his attention with a direct look.

He takes a sharp breath, but grins through the pain. “Often enough, eh, LT?” He teases while glancing towards the Lieutenant.

Ghost doesn’t budge from where he watches us. “Couldn’t say. I only pay attention when you speak English.” Soap chuckles at that before I rest a hand on his shoulder and glance at Ghost, tilting my head to his other side. He moves there instantly while I look into Johnny’s eyes again.

“Time to get up. Lean on us and remember that the meds will kick in. Just keep moving for me, yeah?” My voice is calm and firm. I ease him up into a sitting position while he grimaces, but nods. Ghost and I share a look as we move simultaneously to get Soap up onto his feet. He groans and I brace a hand against his bindings to make sure they hold fast. As soon as I meet Price’s eyes, he nods and we start moving out.

Gaz moves towards me to take Soap, but I give him a sharp look. I’m the medic, the sick and injured are my responsibility. I keep Soap’s arm around my shoulders and push ahead with Ghost on his other side. The whole time I keep him talking quietly, distracting him and verbally poking him to keep his mind occupied. A single mention of his favorite football team sends him on a rant for five minutes straight and I don’t think I mistake seeing Ghost’s mask twitch as he smiles.

Gaz and Price are quiet as we make slow progress forward, letting me do my work, but I feel their eyes on us every now and then. Especially on me. Things go a bit easier when the pain pills I gave him kick in and Soap is practically back to himself by the time we get back to camp. Ghost helps me lay him down while everyone else packs up. We were planning to leave tomorrow, but tonight serves just as well.

Gingerly, I help Soap out of his tac vest and shirt before taking a proper look at the wound. “How’s the pain, soldier?” I set his hand on my knee again as I check to see how much blood has seeped into the gauze.

“Three. Barely twinges.” He responds and I give him a critical look as his grip on my leg tightens just a touch as I check my work. But I don’t call him out on it.

“It’s not too bad.” I tell him honestly as I remove the bandages, taking special care to clean the wound this time even as Soap winces. “As long as it’s kept clean and the dressing changed often, you’ll heal in no time. Hope you don’t mind my company because you’ll be seeing a lot of me for a while.”

He shakes his head, a little smile on his face. “Wouldn’t mind it a bit, G, but I can look after myself.”

“Not a chance.” My voice is firm and I make sure to stare into his eyes, placing a hand with blood smeared over my fingers on his shoulder. “That might’ve been how you did it before, but I’m your medic now. No one touches these bandages other than me. Especially not you. Understood, soldier?”

He swallows, then his smile grows as he gives me a nod. “Yes, ma’am.” I nod in return and finish wrapping the wound again while his eyelids droop. “Thanks, lass.” My hand lightly pats his shoulder before I lay his shirt over his chest while I stand.

“Sleep. Move a muscle and I’ll have you strapped to the inside of the car.” He hums his acknowledgement while I stand up and walk over to the men lingering around the back of our jeep. “He’ll be fine. It’s not too deep and didn’t hit anything that’ll cause problems later. We can move out whenever we’re ready.”

Price nods. “Let’s head out then. The sooner, the better.” He receives a chorus of acceptance from me and the others. I’m quick to pack up and slide my bag in the back along with the others before we get Soap in the jeep. Price drives, Ghost sits in the passenger seat, then Gaz and Soap sit on either side of me in the back.

“How are we doing, Soap?” I ask softly as we drive across the landscape, not exactly keeping to roads and worn paths.

He grunts with a hand braced against the wound. “Really enjoying the bumps, Cap.”

“We’ll reach a road in a few minutes. Stick it out, Johnny.” Price responds and Soap curses as he hits a particularly deep crater. My hand moves Soap’s to my knee again, holding it there as a touchstone. I’d rather not give him any more pain pills to avoid him getting drowsy, but I don’t want him incapacitated with pain. Keeping his hand there will help me know if he can handle it.

“This can’t be the worst you’ve had, Soap.” I poke a bit of fun at him and he half-smiles, scoffing.

“Not a chance. Being shot in the leg was a fucking bitch.” He shakes his head before leaning it back against the headrest. His eyes slide to mine. “What about you, G? What’s your worst?” I blink, hesitating as I consider the question. Price hits another bump and Soap hisses while Gaz tries to hide a chuckle as a cough. “You fuckin’ aiming for them, Cap?” His accent gets a bit thicker and I glance up at the rearview mirror to find Price’s eyes already on me. I shake my head slightly. Soap’s question is fine.

“Depends on what you consider worst. The most painful or the one that left me the most fucked up?” I offer and interest flashes in Soap’s eyes. I’ve got him distracted, at least. “I got shot in the left shoulder, then had to fend off an assailant in hand to hand. Worked the bullet deeper into my muscle since it wasn’t clean through. Took forever to heal and it’s a miracle I still have full movement. Couldn’t raise my arm above my shoulder for months.” The men nod or grimace, understanding and easily relating.

“Thought I was going to go stir crazy every time I’ve been put on bed rest.” Soap grumbles and I don’t bother telling him that he’s going to be on bed rest as soon as we get back to base.

“That’s because you can’t stay still for five minutes.” Gaz teases and Soap gives him a grin and a half-shrug to say he’s not wrong.

“Drives most medics crazy. Hope you’re up for it, G.” Ghost comments from the front and I look pointedly towards Soap.

“He’s not going to be difficult for me, are you, Johnny?” I ask expectantly and he shakes his head immediately. The men chuckle while I glance at Price in the mirror and fight a smile of my own. There’s a new edge in his eyes, a soft one, and I find that I like seeing it there.

Gaz shifts in place, a grin on his face as he stares at Soap. “You’ve already got him purring like a cat, G. What were in those pills you gave him?”

“Shut it, Gaz. You heard her threaten that guy in the bar. I’m trying to keep my balls where they are.” The car rumbles with laughter again, mine included, although it’s too quiet for anyone else to hear. We finally reach a dirt road and the ride becomes a fraction easier. Soap eventually falls asleep while I watch over him, my hand still on top of his where it sits on my thigh.

*     *     *

After a brief argument when we get on base, I force Soap into the med tent to stay overnight for observation. There’s a nagging feeling in my gut. I wait for him to finish taking a shower after I carefully wrapped the bandages so they wouldn’t get wet. He quirks a brow when he finds me waiting for him and I wave him into bed so I can take a look at the wound one last time before everyone turns in.

“This isn’t my first, you know.” He quips as he lets me check it again.

I give him a placating look. “After so long in the business, you learn to trust your gut. Better to be paranoid and wrong than careless and miss something that kills you.” That shuts him up promptly and my lips press together as I look at the wound. It looks a little red, almost inflamed. I replace the bandages before digging through a cabinet nearby, then come back with a bottle of water and pills. “Antibiotics, just to be safe. If there was something on the blade and it’s infected, then you’ll probably get a fever in the night. It’ll get worse from there depending on the infection.”

He takes the pills and swallows them, blinking at my words before remarking sarcastically, “Great.”

I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here. After I head to my room for a bit, I’ll come back with food and you’ll be stuck with me for the night so I can keep an eye on you.”

Amusement creeps back into his eyes as he sits up a little in bed. “They do have people here whose job it is to stay the night. I know you’re just as worn out as I am after the mission.”

I toss the bed’s blankets up over his legs with a firm look telling him to stay put. “Pretty sure I already told you that the only one touching those bandages is me.”

He hums, his smile widening a bit. “You know, I like this possessive side to you, G.”

“Uh-huh. You’ll like it even more when I zip-tie you to the bed if you don’t do everything I say.” I return sweetly and he swallows as I pat his foot, then head to the door. Surprise flits across my face as I see Price waiting for me and I walk over, stopping beside him and turning to look at Soap just like he is.

“Not being too obstinate, is he?” Price asks and he keeps his voice lower than usual while nurses file in and out of the tent while they take care of their own charges.

I heave a breath, but shake my head. “He’s been a good patient so far, but we both know restlessness settles in a little later.” He nods with the corner of his mouth lifting. I hesitate a moment before leaning a shoulder against the wall behind us and turning my body towards him. “My gut is telling me that it’s infected.”

Price turns towards me as well and his expression turns serious. He’s been in this business longer than me and he strikes me as the kind of man who doesn’t disregard his gut either. “Plan of action?”

My eyes cut to Soap idly tying knots with a lace pulled free from one of his boots. “I’m leaving him to have some time alone. We won’t know whether I’m right or not until late into the night, anyway. I’ll come back in an hour or two and keep an eye on him.”

He nods, pressing his lips together before he looks at me. “Alright. Keep me updated if he takes a turn for the worse. And don’t neglect yourself either.” Price gives me a pointed look that I respond to with a small smile. It’s getting a little easier to give those out, recently.

“Understood, Captain. I plan on spending an hour in the shower.” I get him to smile too as I salute him playfully, then head out to my room.

*     *     *

I keep my promise. Well, mostly. I spend a long time in the shower, then change into a tank-top and comfortable pants. My skin is still hot from my shower and I cool off a bit as I walk to the mess hall and get some food as promised before heading back to the med-tents. Soap shoves every morsel of food I give to him into his mouth and I shake my head while eating my own a tad slower. He crashes soon after and I take the time to set everything I might need on the small table next to the bed.

After that, the only thing to do is wait. I curl up in the chair next to him and get as comfortable as I can in the uncomfortable chair. There are one or two other nurses that mill around, but otherwise it’s quiet. Eventually, I find myself falling asleep. I’ve slept in worse places in my military career. I’m still on the cusp of sleep when I feel something settling over me. My eyes flash open and I look up in an instant to see the culprit. His hands freeze and his eyes widen as I find Ghost draping his jacket over me.

I sigh in relief and relax back into the chair, my eyes shutting a moment as my heart thunders in my chest. “Ghost.” I greet him with a scratchy voice before looking towards Soap and moving to get up. “Everything okay?” He puts a hand on my shoulder to hold me in place.

“Everything’s fine. Just came to check on the stubborn bastard to make sure he wasn’t causin’ too much trouble.” He says quietly, his voice gruff and low. “Didn’t expect you to be here, G.”

I relax back into my chair with his jacket tucked snug around me. “I’m here for the duration. Just to make sure everything goes okay.”

His brows furrow. His usual skull mask is gone to leave only the black fabric he wears under it. It’s nice seeing more of his face even if the skin around his eyes is still painted black. “You expectin’ something to go wrong?”

I shrug a shoulder. “It’s just a precaution. A gut feeling.” My lips purse as I look at Soap, slack-jawed and snoring softly. “It could be infected. Or I could be paranoid.” I sigh again as I lean my head back against the chair and Ghost’s mask twitches.

“Either way, thanks for looking out for him.” Ghost crosses his arms and leans a hip against the end of Soap’s bed.

I raise a brow at him. “It’s my job.”

“No.” Ghost shakes his head, eyes crinkling just a touch as I think he smiles again. “This is going above and beyond your job, G. And I’m grateful. So’s everyone else on the team.” I blink as I take in the compliment and his jacket tucked around me. It’s sweet. Terribly sweet.

“I’m glad to do it, Ghost. You all have been pretty welcoming and I know I don’t come off the warmest, but I appreciate it.” Discomfort swirls in my chest at admitting it, but he took a risk thanking me. I can return the favor. “You’re my team.” It’s a claim and a promise. I’ll be loyal, dedicated, treat them like family, as long as they’re just as loyal to me.

Ghost nods, seeing this and understanding. He understands more than the others, if I had to guess. “And we’ve got you just as much as you’ve got us, G. Even if it takes a while for you to see that.” I smile as I pull his jacket a bit closer around me. I’m coming around to the idea.

*     *     *

I fall back asleep after Ghost leaves, but not for long.

Soap’s peaceful snores fade and I wake up when I hear a grunt to find him half-sitting up with his blankets tossed off. He gives me a weak smile when he sees my eyes open. “Sorry, lass. Afraid I’m not feeling great.” I lay Ghost’s jacket over the back of my chair and I’m up in an instant. My hands smooth over his cheek, then his forehead.

“Your skin is hot.” I murmur, knowing he has a fever.

He huffs a soft laugh. “Always knew I was hot.” The corner of my mouth lifts as I help him sit up a bit more and take his sweat-soaked shirt off, then wipe away the sheen covering his chest, back, and forehead.

“It’s going to be a rough night for you, Johnny, but the only way through it is straight.” I set the small towel aside before gently pushing him back down to lay on the bed. Next, I grab two other washcloths I have set aside and head over to the sink to soak them before coming back.

“You certainly don’t sugarcoat things, G.” He chuckles as I lay one cold cloth over his bare chest, then fold the other as I pat his face with it before laying it over his forehead.

“You want me to tell you pretty lies?” I ask softly, aware of the few other patients still sleeping around the room.

His head shakes. “Never said I didn’t like it, lass. Think it’s refreshing.” He takes a deep breath and I rub the cool cloth over his chest before wetting it in cool water again and returning it. “Reminds me a little of Ghost.”

“Oh yeah?” There’s a little surprise in my voice, but I suppose I was just thinking that Ghost understood me more than the others. “He was here earlier to check on you. Based on what he and Price said, I expected a little more resistance from you.” I reach up and flip the washcloth on his forehead so the cool side is against his skin.

He gives me a crooked grin despite the fever, pain, and exhaustion I’m sure he’s feeling. “I’m a sucker for a gentle touch, lass. And I’m a little bit afraid of you.” I chuckle and his eyes light up a little. “Am I delirious or was that a laugh? Can’t wait to tell Gaz I got you to crack first.”

“It was barely a laugh. Hardly counts.” I tease and his eyelids get a little heavy. “Sleep if you can, Johnny. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

He hums in lieu of a laugh. “Good thing I’m not tryin’ then. In fact, think someone would have to pry you out of the team’s cold, dead hands to get you away from us now.” His eyes fall shut as he speaks and I keep gently dabbing his face with the cold washcloth. I let the words sink into me along with Ghost’s earlier, feeling them tether me to the team and the men that create it. But it doesn’t feel like a weight. It feels like a life preserver, buoying me over the waves I’ve been fighting against for a while now. Finally, I take a breath without worrying about whether I’ll take on water.

“Yeah,” I whisper, resting my hand on the cloth on his chest to feel his heart. “I’m getting pretty fond of you all too.”

Taglist (oh my gosh, hi people! Thanks for wanting to be tagged, I love you. Hope you enjoy. If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas

[jaybluebugs]

Improvement!!!

Raghhhh hi guys!! Unfortunately I don’t have access to my drawing tablet, left it at my cousin’s house like the silly that I am, so I haven’t really been able to upload any new drawings.

So instead I’ve decided that I’ll show some redraws I’ve done of old art in the past few months!!

Thanks @justahuman667 for helping me to decide <33

Ordered from oldest to most recent:

1. Pepper the cat

Yes, believe or not this is the oldest of all the redraws I’ll be showing you. This was back when lil Jay was still developing her art style and wasn’t sure what she wanted it to look like, awwww womp womp </3 I believe I redrew it when I was 13 going on 14. Anyway, you’ll probably never see Pepper again; back into the oc graveyard she goes.

2. Raccoonpaw

Mwah mwah mwah oh Raccoonpaw my sonnnn, honestly all of my ocs are my babies and to be fair Raccoonpaw over here was made WAYYY before Cooper, all the way back when I was in fifth grade I think (I’m in tenth now)

BONUS: His sister, Sandpaw (They’re extremely close 💞)

Ahhh I LOVE HER SM too! My sympathetic yet snarky little gurl. Don’t be fooled by her constantly warm smile, because she won’t hesitate to sass you if you mess with her, her overly-forgiving Raccoonpaw, and her mother, Bluestorm, that she adores

3. Pigeonfeather

Years later and I’ve finally learned to spell pigeon, huh? Lol anyway the redraw was really more of a doodle so I didn’t really put that much effort into it. Either way MWAH MWAN MWAH I LOBE HIM HE LIKE ONE OF MY OLDESR OCS EVER. But yeah it’s nice seeing my style develop :]

4. And last, but certainly not least, Sagetail

Ohhhh looking at this one just makes me so happy. You guys can not understand how much love I hold for this silly goober. He’s definetly not one of my oldest ocs, well compared to my other ones at least. But even still, I love him so so so so so so much like one time I’ve been hyperfixated on him for like a month like oh my goodness, my love <3

If y’all would like me to post more content like this showing my improvement, just let me know! 🩵

[livums]

Why I haven’t written in several months

Im being dramatic—it’s been like 3.

Hello writeblr buds, I miss u and I hope the past few months have been as kind and restful as possible 🥰 I realized it’s been some time since I’ve written anything (or written anything about writing anything) and for some reason it’s of some importance to me that it doesn’t look like I vanished or lost interest/commitment to the space.

I’m trying to quit my fuck ass job :/

I have a whole lot of feelings about the job + the field itself and why I think my time in it is drawing to a close, but I probably won’t take the time to write about it here, unprompted. What’s much more exciting for me is, I think, my goal itself.

I realized in like November that I’m doing that thing again—waiting for my life to start. It started when I received an art book Kickstarter reward in the mail and held a very pretty holographic print in my hands up to the light in my bedroom. My bedroom walls were bare, and had been for the past year and some change, when I moved into this unit. I hadn’t felt comfortable decorating knowing I’d be moving out in “only two years”. I caught myself waiting for permanent stability again. Oops! My bad.

I spent hours decorating my walls with all the prints I’d accumulated over the past several years and I felt…. A way. I started using stickers in my journal.

What was I waiting for? What the fuck was wrong with me?

I’ve known I wanted to center art and creativity in my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not going to blame my parents or whatever, but I was told over and over again not to throw myself into pursuing art as a career. It’s not financially viable. “You’ll never make a red cent.” I’d never told them at all that I wanted to do art for a living. I convinced myself for a long time that I didn’t. Lol.

Before I graduated from college in 2020, I faced a decision. I could go to art school, I thought. I could get an MFA. I held an art school catalog in my hand that is requested in the mail. I’d carried it everywhere for months.

I went to grad school instead. Not that I’m bitching about getting into such a prestigious program in my field, but it always felt like the ultimate compromise. It’s something I could tell my parents about and have them be proud of me, while hopefully I could devote time to art on the side. It’s what I’d been doing for the past four years—compromising. I had a professor or three notice, even. Lol.

I moved to a new city in 2020, alone. I was turbo depressed. One day, I spent hours watching animated student films on youtube and bawling my eyes out. Before I had graduated from college, I’d faced a decision and chosen wrong. I asked myself over and over—What do you do if you chose wrong?

Grad school was a nightmare, and I’d rather die than go back, but I don’t even necessarily regret going, I think. I think it was important for me to be in this profession, at least for a time. Maybe this is just me coping, lol, but going to grad school inspired much of what I ventured to write in 2022 and 2023.

Anyways, when I recently held that holographic print up to my bare landlord-white walls, I realized that if I waited any longer to let myself live my life how I wanted, then I was an idiot. In kinder words. I have no excuse not to. I’m giving myself massive grace by believing truly that the past seven years were not a waste of time, but I can’t lie to myself that I’m satisfied with the way my life is right now.

The point is-- I’ve slowed down writing recently because my focus has shifted to art. I’m DEFINITELY not done writing. Not at all! I just realized that if I want to achieve my goal of making enough consistent money off of art to leave my job, I’ll have to start treating art like a second job. Between devoting time to my fuck ass job, to art as a living, and to writing seriously, I’m in kind of a pick-any-two situation. Before, it was fuck ass job and writing seriously. I want to eventually be focused on art and writing as the pillars of my livelihood—that’s my ultimate dream. And we all know that writing is the longest game of creative and financial delayed gratification ever, lol.

I haven’t really talked about this that much on my other socials, lol, but for whatever reason I woke up this morning and felt like I wanted to give an explanation for my sparse writeblr presence. As I hopefully get to scale back to part-time clinician in the future, I hope to get back into some of my stories and start re-breaking old bones into something new and revitalized.

AN EE WAYS, if you’ve read all that, thank you. Mutuals, if u want my discord, feel free to pm me! I’m not disappearing (I will be on tumblr just as much as I have been, which is to say, daily), but I’m much easier to reach by other means. I’ll be (and have been) posting much more on my art blog @lurrkingly as well! If you’d like to um. Witness Me, I’m most Witnessable there or on my art Twitter (also @lurrkingly). (I also have a spicy art Twitter linked to the main one, which I hope to probably be. Siphoning off of for income one day soon. Praying etc.)

I have a game plan, my partner is an excellent support (I think they like playing manager, LOL), and I think, I really think, that I can do it! 🥰🥰🥰

Ok bye MWAH! I like you guys and I’ll never leave! 🎉 💜

[marshmallowprotection]

Bonus! Mother Choi and Saejoong Choi designs underneath the cut!

I’ve done plenty of art for the cowboy universe in the past. But, the most we’ve seen in full body form is for Unknown and Seven. So, I figured it was high that I showed y’all the designs for everyone in Cereus. Now, I will probably post the designs for their looks after the end of that story and onward, but for right now, this was what y’all get.

Y’all know what the twins look like in this story, so let’s talk about some of the other characters.

Some of these designs aren’t a surprise, I’m sure. But, keep in mind the story is set in the mid-1890s so Yoosung has brown hair. However, he started to do his hair like Rika after her death all the same. His eye accident came from one bad dare. He took a hard tumble from a high rock and hurt himself, seemingly ruining his future until Rika pulled him from his low slump and asked him to join the bar for the time being to get back on his feet.

I, for one, love long-haired Jihyun, so this story reflects that. He keeps his hair from his face by tucking it back into a ponytail. The most distinct part of his look in this story is that his layered clothes are hiding burn scars from the fire. See, it wasn’t possible for his mom to get him out in time without major injury. His neck and back are covered in scars.

Zen is a performer. He isn’t wearing pants, those are tights, by the way. He loves the look. A corset and an open top? This man is living his best life. Gawk at him if you want, he doesn’t mind. Though, if you stared at Rika for too long and she wanted no part of that... well, good luck after his shift if he catches you. It won’t end well. The boa he wears is actually Rika’s after her death. It helps him feel a lot closer to her again.

Speaking of Rika, this is the first time I’ve drawn her in this universe. She is the ultimate performer in Jihyun’s bar and people turn heads when she walks by in any way, shape, or form. She’s confident here, only because she knows she’s a lot safer in the bar than she is anywhere else. You would never know what she’s hiding underneath her smile.

Jaehee is meant to appear unassuming in this universe. Underneath her skirt is a set of matching guns that she’s prepared to use at any moment. She was more or less trained to be capable with a gun from a young age but nobody wanted to hire her for it. So, she wound up at the bar, where Rika assured Jumin that she’d be a wonderful assistant and bodyguard. She keeps her long hair in this story as Chairman Han is hardly around for Jumin to be paranoid enough to ask Jaehee to change to avoid his nonsense.

Jumin dresses how you think he would, the only difference being that he wears a bolo tie that Jihyun got for him when they were younger. I think it’s the about the same for Vanderwood, since there isn’t much change from the original design for both of them. Still, it felt wrong to not draw them so there’s a complete set for all the characters. By I got to that point in drawing, I knew I needed to do Saejoong and Mother Choi. There isn’t much to say about Saejoong. He’s simple and this design is overall what you expect.

Mother Choi is up to my interpretation, though. The twins inherited their hair from their mother and their eyes from their father. That’s always how I’ve seen it in my head. She has wildly long hair that whips around her body when she lashes out and the memory of fiery red curls often haunts the twins more than either of the boys want to admit. She might be poor, but I added an elegant hat to show that if she gets money, she’ll always spend on herself before the boys.

[Reference]

[thegalaxyinyoureye]

the beauty of nature (johnny x male s/i)

It was a death wish, they said.

Camping alone in the middle of the woods, no matter how many times I had done it and came back without a scratch, still made people twinge and furrow their brow with concern. It was a pitying kind of concern, the kind you give to a friend who continually puts themselves in bad situations no matter how you try to help them. But… it’s just nature.

I’ll correct myself. It’s more than just nature, at least to me. It’s strange the kind of image most people have about nature. It’s somehow both nauseatingly dull and a life-threatening endeavor with death at every turn. How can something be boring and deadly? I didn’t get it. Or, maybe they didn’t.

When I’m out there, with just the sounds of the wind and the birds and the trees and nothing else… God, it’s incredible. It’s like breathing a different air, like basking in a different sunlight.

As I finish tapping the final spike for my tent, I get the sense that someone is watching me. It’s not an unusual feeling, but I turn anyway. That feeling you get is real, you know.

But I turn and nobody’s there.

I shrug and continue my plan for a casual hike for the afternoon.

Along the path that isn’t really a path, there’s something that died, right in the middle. It looks weeks old, maybe a month. I watch it and I’m… captivated. The smell is nauseating, yes, but… the way that the decomposing skin just seems to blend in with the dirt…

Based on the shape of the skull I conclude it’s a canine. Maybe a wolf that— I glance downward and, oh. A metal jaw is latched to one of its hind legs, already beginning to rust.

I slowly, carefully, pry the jaws of the trap open and guide it out from around what was once a wolf. I set it down, and they snap back together again. I assume that whoever set it there probably forgot about it and won’t come looking for it again.

Well.

I take it and dig a hole, burying it deep enough where it can never taste something alive again. I gather the dirt around the wolf and cover it, returning it to its roots.

Just a few minutes to the left is a small stream, I know it well. I reroute to it to clean my hands and fill my water bottle. One of my friends got me the kind with a filter in the straw so you don’t drink dirt. It was surprisingly kind of her.

Cleaning my hands of the dirt, I glance up and notice something… different.

While it’s far from my first time in these woods, I’ve never actually followed the stream before. It makes sense someone would build a small shack along it, even if it was just for temporary shelter. But this shack looks decades old, the wooden walls holding it up rotting from the inside out and half crumbling. A small, glittering, golden light from inside draws me closer. I scratch at the stubble on my cheek, mulling over my options.

I take a wide step over the stream and sneak over to it, and…

There’s a golden locket on a chain, dangling from a stick plunged in the ground. I immediately clock it as a grave, though it’s not far-fetched to say other people might not recognize it as such.

Though I know better than to take it, I can’t help but open the locket. It’s a photo of a man, probably in his late 30’s, with his arm around a young boy with a round, cherubic face. A tiny note in the corner of the photo reads:

“Dad & Johnny”

Johnny.

Johnny…

…Johnny?

But that’s just a campfire st—

A twing snaps behind me and I whip my head around.

A huge figure stands about 30 feet away. Even from this distance, his form is hulking and powerful. He wears a tattered flannel covered in dirt and something wet. He wears a strange leather mask with large, round eyes like an owl.

It’s… it’s…

“Johnny?” I say.

At the sound, he begins to walk. His gait is slow, but purposeful, he lifts his legs ever so slightly higher than needed.

In front of me, he stops. I can’t follow his gaze past the mask, but he seems to be focused on something below me. I glance down and…

I look at my carabiner, with my keys, a swiss army knife, and a keychain of a lego satyr. I unhook it and hold it out in my outstretched palm.

He takes it and shuffles away into the corner of the shack, sitting and crossing his legs. He slowly lifts his mask from his head.

I circle around him to kneel by his side, making note of his still round face, with milky white eyes and a scarred lip.

“Pretty boy…” I whisper, not even realizing it. But I can’t help it. As he manipulates the arms and legs of the satyr, his brow is furrowed in deep concentration. His cheeks are scarred and red with blood that looks both dry and fresh. I idly wonder how his lips would feel, how his tongue would taste.

I settle with moving my hand closer to his, thicker and wider than my thin, knobbly fingers. The tips of our fingers touch ever so slightly, and he looks right at me.

“Satyrs are servants of the god Pan. He’s the god of nature. It was ritual to give him offerings and sacrifices for a good harvest.”

Johnny gives a little huff.

“Though, I choose to believe there were some who did it just because they really liked the guy. Found him… attractive.”

Johnny’s eyes widen.

“Well, I hear there’s a new group of counselors for the summer arriving at the campgrounds, tonight. How’s that for a sacrifice?”

He pauses, in thought.

He gently moves his hand to cover mine.

[chickensarentcheap]

Bedtime sneak peek :)

Includes a tie-in to John Wick (the first movie) canon :)

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @mrsmungus @asirensrage @residentdormouse @karimac @kmc1989 @thebewingedjewelcat @timbradfordsboot @ninjasawakenedmystar @starryeyes2000 @themaradwrites

*****

“I’m not exactly looking for that kind of thing.  Or remotely interested. I had my chance.   And unfortunately, fate didn’t think I deserved it.  A guy like me? Having someone like Helen? Getting a normal life?  It was bound to happen; being punished for the things I’ve done. People I’ve hurt.”

“That’s not why Helen was taken from you, John.  You weren’t being punished.  You weren’t paying the price for your sins. She was sick.  It was the luck of the draw. Unfortunately, very horrible luck. And I know that’s probably very easy for me to say because I’ve never been through that kind of loss, but...”

“Viggo said it to me.  When I was going after his son.  He mentioned how people like us are rewarded for our misdeeds. Which is why God took my wife from me.”

“That’s NOT true.  Viggo was a horrible man.  I was at the receiving end of his particular brand of bullshit many times while working for him.  He was evil.”

“I haven’t been able to get past it.  I can’t seem to let it go. He talked about how we’re cursed. How this life follows us; it clings to you and infects everyone who  comes close to you.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?  A lot of people in this life have managed to escape.  They’ve closed that chapter and started a whole new one.  Lots of guys have walked away; they’ve found normal jobs, gotten married, had kids.”

“The ones who are lucky.  Who didn’t stick around for too long. Which is why you and Tyler need to get out here. Out of the mercenary world.  Because if you guys keep going the way you are, one of you will end up just like Viggo said.  The life will find you. It will find you and it will suck you back in and you won’t get another chance to leave.  It will destroy you.  And you both deserve better than that.”

[traegorn]

Hey, @melincollee said you were the person to ask this. I had an out of practice witch reach out to me because I know how to find things out. They are looking for recommendations for a Wiccan/Gardner Tradition spell book with effective cleansing spells for energy and emotional space after one of their housemates had a mental breakdown and attempted suicide twice in the house.

Any help is much appreciated!

So while I'm a Wiccan, I might not be the best person to ask for this sort of thing. But I'll give you what I have.

Firstly not a Gardnerian. I don't have good advice for Gardnerian stuff. I also developed my practice so long ago, that I don't necessarily think any of the books I used twenty five years ago are necessarily all that great. Many, also, would just tell you to use a ritual broom to cleanse the space and just be pretty damned vague about it.

My own rituals are, frankly, very private. I've only shared a few over the years. If I were going to cleanse a space from that kind of emotional energy, I'd probably adapt the basic spell I've put out there about trying to remove ghosts from an area (this feels weird? This feels weird. Like my "Get rid of ghosts" spell feels almost disrespectful to recommend as a solution to cleansing a space where someone has tried to take their life... but this is where we are and we all have to live with it now).

Now opening and closing a Wiccan ritual is something that I'm not going to go through. There are a million guides out there for opening/closing a circle. Let's just do the middle bit here.

First off, before anything is done -- I'd ground and center. I explain this in my Dabbler's week guide -- but I'll copy paste:

Sit in a comfortable position – it doesn’t matter if it’s on the floor or in a chair, just in a way that your legs won’t cramp up or have your butt start hurting. Close your eyes and slowly inhale and exhale a few times. Count to five as you inhale, and count to five as you exhale. Feel the chair or floor you are sitting on. Feel your weight on it. Feel how it’s connected to you. You are connected to what you are sitting on. As you breathe, with every breath feel how what your sitting on is connected to the floor. Then how that floor is connected to the structure of the building you’re in. Then how that building is connected to the earth. You extend yourself until you touch the soil. Now that you’re rooted, it’s time to draw in energy. Like a tree takes water from its roots, pull energy from the earth through your connections. Feel the pulse from the center of the earth as it rises into your body, filling you with energy. If you want to do a spell, now would be the time.

After that, we want to cleanse the space. I featured this spell in my Ghosts podcast episode, but this is from my notes when I scripted it:

 I direct my energy to build a wall along one side of my dwelling, and effectively move that wall in a sweeping motion across my entire home pushing out any other energy beyond the borders of my space.  Then, I quickly run around and put up the normal protective wards around my space, and I’ve gotten that shit done.

Adding those bits together into a standard Wiccan ceremony should achieve what you're looking for.

That said, remember that the energy left behind from folks is never the greatest concern in these situations -- and the roommate's mental health should take priority.

And I hope the correct mental health professionals were talked to. The energy of the space was not the cause for what happened to their roommate after all.

[evelhak]

🫧🖌️Free art requests🎨✨

So, I’ve never done this before! Probably because I didn’t feel confident drawing fan art until recent years. But I’m planning to apply to an art school next year, and taking requests from other people will undoubtedly challenge me to draw things I wouldn’t think of on my own and learn new things, improve my weaknesses and better my chances of getting in. I currently do some work as an illustrator, a few book covers and posters a year, and I wish to be an actual professional one day. Soon. So, in case you were wondering, this is completely self-serving. (Not that I don’t enjoy giving things to fandom, obviously I do!)

Please, read the instructions below. I go into quite a lot of detail about what kind of styles and mediums you can request, but you can also always leave that stuff up to me, if you want and just focus on the characters and scenarios you wish to see.

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What to do

Send me an ask or a message, describing what you would like me to make, in as much or as little detail as you wish. Please don't send anon requests, from now on I won't be answering them.

Be patient. This is still a hobby.

Be realistic. There’s no limit to how many requests one person can make, and you can make another request even if I’m still working on one from you, but don’t flood my inbox. :)

✨Please, reblog this post. ✨

Reminder: the requests are free but that doesn't mean my art is free to use in any way you like. Do not repost or post in other platforms without permission. Reblogging and linking to my work is naturally encouraged. Feel free to use for personal purposes such at printing out my art for a friend's birthday card or your journal if you want.

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Fandoms

My main fandom is KnB, so I’m likely to prioritize requests for this fandom.

Other fandoms I have drawn fan art for in the past include SPOP, Kaleido Star, Princess Tutu, W.i.t.c.h. (off the top of my head) and other fandoms that I’m actively engaged with or always return to include H2O, LotR, Sherlock Holmes (mostly the original and BBC), BBC Merlin, Gilmore Girls and BTVS, so it shouldn’t take me too long to get comfortable drawing for these fandoms.

Other than that, I’m open to anything you can find on my anime and manga list or Goodreads that I at least somewhat enjoyed. They’re not 100% comprehensive, and obviously don’t include all media types I engage with, so you can always just try your luck too and ask if I know your fave!

I will not draw characters I’m unfamiliar with, (OCs are an exception) or have practically no memory off, because I need to know who I’m drawing as much as I need to know what they look like. I also won’t draw something that I personally dislike too much, or don’t want to support for other reasons.

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OCs

You can request art of your OCs as well. Please, note that I will also only draw OCs from fandoms I know. I’m willing to draw based on a description as well as pictures. You can request I draw the exact character design based on your own work, or you can request me to design it myself based on description or references you would like me to use. HOWEVER OCs are limited to portraits (list in the next section) unlike fan art requests, because I want to know the characters I'm drawing in more complex situations.

(OC for @vespersposts)

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Types of art you can request

🧝portraits🧛

(One or more characters in a certain mood, clothing, background etc. For OCs this is the type of request I will do.)

🫂scenarios💃

(One or more characters in a certain situation or action.)

🗨️SHORT comics💭

(Ideas that can realistically be expressed in up to 3 pages.)

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Style

I lean towards cartoon style in drawing characters, and impressionism in colouring and background. You can absolutely challenge me to go out of my comfort zone, but my preferences will likely show.

If your request involves anime, manga or other types of cartoons, I will always stay close to the original character design, but other than that you can request different kinds of styles when it comes to colouring, background, other details and the overall feel of the picture.

I’m not currently interested in attempting to draw hyper realistically, so keep that in mind if your request involves characters portrayed by actors, or your OCs. You can request anime/manga style or my own blend of styles that I use in my original art, or something else you have in mind.

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Mediums you can request

digital art

(Digital art can of course mimic pretty much any traditional medium but I'm not so far in learning digital art that I would be comfortable taking more specific requests for what digital medium I use, it will pretty much always be very mixed.)

watercolour

acrylic

pencil

markers

inktense pencils

mixed

If you have something in mind not listed here, you can always see if I might be interested in trying it out.

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Some rules for the content of the requests

I won’t draw romantic/sexual content of ships that contradict my headcanon. I’ll attempt to make a more comprehensive list that I’ll link here, until then you can use my drabble request rules as reference, do some math (if you know that I ship KagaKuro exclusively, then I won't draw other ships for the characters in question), or try your luck.

I won’t draw sexualizing content of minors (which is under 18 in my country and apparently generally considered to be that online)

I do not think nudity is or should be inherently sexualizing, so mild/partial nudity of any character is fine, HOWEVER requests that seem like an attempt to sexualize a minor anyway will automatically be denied. (Like a request that focuses on the nudity as opposed to it just being a natural part of the scenario.)

I won’t draw full/graphic nudes of any character no matter their age, because I’m just not interested in knowing any character that intimately

Age appropriate/realistic romantic/sexual situations for characters who are minors are fine, the key is that it should not be sexualizing from the viewpoint of the viewer: the character is not objectified. Teenagers have feelings and urges, and it’s hypocritical to not be able to portray that in a way that is true to the character in question.

(For example, depicting a sixteen-year-old character drooling over the sight of their crush in a towel is not sexualizing/pornographic, it’s a completely realistic depiction of being a teenager and censoring that kind of stuff does more harm than good. However, depicting the crush in a towel in a way that exaggerates perceived "sexiness" for the viewer is sexualizing, and that I won't do.)

I won’t draw clear nsfw content of characters of any age, because I’m not very interested in the first place, and I don’t want to get flagged, however borderline cases might be okay, depending on the level of detail.

When making the request, just ask yourself this: Is this a realistic situation where this particular character at this particular age would willingly get into? If not, then I won’t draw it, and I might or might not have a stricter view than you. I will always draw these types of requests in ways that leaves more up to the imagination than it shows anyway, no matter who it depicts.

No non-con and dub-con.

I won’t draw death, gore or graphic violence, minor injuries etc. are fine.

I won't draw cross-overs between characters from different fandoms, but characters from one story depicted in the context of a different story are cool.

Obviously, there might be other reasons not listed here that your request could get denied, in which case I’ll let you know.

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Subjects I love, in case you're interested

🧞fairy tales

character interaction, slice of life, fluff👩‍❤️‍👩

🌬️metaphors, mystery, riddles

mermaids, angels, elves, fairies🧚

🗡️medieval fantasy, magic, swords

vibrant emotion, situational comedy, suspense 🎭

🍃nature, domesticity, dreams

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As the main subject I'm not interested in

(but it's fine to include moderately)

🐭animals

buildings, vehicles, cities🏙️

food🍲

🖱️electronics

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You can check the pinned post on my blog for more references if you'd like!

I know that was a lot, so thank you if you read it all. 😊

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✨I hope to see you in my inbox.✨

Eve

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[punz4lyfe]

Pokemon Journeys Special 5 Review

Pokemon Journeys Special 5. Let’s review:

Not done yet, fools! Mwahahahahaaaa!

But anyways, about this episode, let’s just get the negatives outta the way first.

I’ve probably already said this before, but I’m really no fan of how the I Choose You Movie continuity Ash is mostly just relegated down to his Pikachu nowadays. Like with the past two movies of this alternate universe, Charizard is not even given a single namedrop (for all we know, Ash has probably released him on-screen) and he’s not allowed to catch or show a single new Pokemon on his team. C’mon, let him catch that Gyarados to allow more deviation between this universe and the main one!

...But really, that’s just a general problem I have with this AU’s Ash and not something specific towards the episode at all, so it won’t affect the score at all. And with that out of the way, let’s get to the positives.

Wow, this episode was gorgeous.

The animation and set pieces were just so beautiful to look at and you can definitely tell how lively things were with all the Pokemon in the forest and the trainers at the Pokemon Center. And after finishing up Journeys, it was great to see Ash and Pikachu enjoy their lives this episode (albeit, in a different universe).

But the main meat and potatoes of this episode were Haruto and his parents. Everything done with these characters was just so amazing. Starting with Haruto, the foreshadowing of him actually being a ghost/spirit was done greatly, with his hesitation from touching Ash and Pikachu, his nonchalant expression when running from the Beedrill, and subtly having Ash retrieve his hat for him to return to his parents. And his ending where Ash hugged him to have him pet Pikachu was just... well, it definitely put a tear in my eye. ;-; And for his parents, I loved how the episode handled their grief and process of moving on, like Haruto’s mom stunned expression upon seeing Ash (possibly because of how similar he is to her son) and Haruto’s father drawing out the sky before moving on to other things his son loved after talking with Ash about his passing.

Ash himself was characterized super well, as he see his fun side by having him just enjoy life being close to Pokemon and his mature side by having him understand Haruto’s parents’ situation and helping Haruto be able to have one more chance to touch a Pokemon before his spirit moves on. And his tears at the end as he ate his mom’s food was a really great because of the ambiguity. Is he crying for Haruto and his parents, being able to eat his mom’s cooking after so long, missing out on seeing his dad again, how similar Haruto was to him and the thought of not being able to interact with Pokemon again, still having his mom’s love by his side, or something else?

And SO glad Team Rocket got a happy ending themselves. See how great their lives are if they don’t live in a universe where they catch a Morpeko?

Anyways, this episode gets a 10/10. An absolute beauty~

[translationandbetrayals]

Eyes and morale in BSD: : visual storytelling done right

In Bungo Stray Dogs, one of the most important plot lines revolves around the characters' moral alignment and how their actions and pasts influence their values and behavior. These characters tend to be really complex, mixing their complicated backstories with beautifully written personalities, even those who play minor roles in the story. Sango Harukawa, the manga's illustrator, has revealed part of the way in which he portrays this part of his characters' psyche: through their eyes.

In the inside of the cover from volume 5, he states: "This is a decision I've come to myself, but in my drawings, I draw bigger pupils for crazy people. I try to show how tainted a person is by reducing the whites and darkening the eyes. People on the side of the Mafia probably have larger pupils. In the character settings, if the character hasn't gone too far and can return to the good side, I try to draw their eyes brighter. (...) I won't tell you whom, but there is a character whose eyes cloud over whenever they show their true self. I think it would be a more interesting experience if you re-read the manga using each character's eyes as a measure of their psychological states."

Of course, this is quite the subject for debate within the fandom community. Some people speculate that the color of the eyes has more to do with a character's inner perception of morals, instead of an universal notion of what is good or wrong. This is why many characters who don't seem to be doing anything morally questionable still have a darkened gaze, in many occasions because of the deeds of their past which they consider to be unforgivable or that makes them inherently corrupted. On the other side, one can easily watch a character's personal journey as they navigate complex emotions by simply looking at the way their eyes change through time.

In this image we can find many examples of this. First, we have Atsushi, the character with clearer moral values, who would consider himself to be "one of the good guys" without any hesitation. Then we get Yosano, Higuchi, Tanizaki, Kenji, Kunikida, Naomi, Rampo and Fukuzawa, all of them characters whith a bit more complex relationship with morale, although none of them considers themselves inherently evil or corrupted, even taking into consideration the fact that some of them have lived through hardship and moments in which they questioned their own worth. Next, Kyouka, a girl who is undoubtedly one of the good guys, but because of her traumatizing past and the violence she was forced to take part in, has more of a clouded sense of self, which is reflected in her somewhat blurry gray eyes. Finally, Dazai and Akutagawa. Both of them have a deeply disturbed state of mind (you can probably guess who's more troubled by looking at their eyes only) and a sense of inherent corruption in their souls. You can see a bit of hope in Dazai's eyes though, because of his redemption arc, but for Akutagawa, it's completely lost.

There are characters with even more complicated relationships with morale. They can actively ignore their wrongdoings or become obsessed with the repercussions of their actions, and this can impact their eyes as well. It's also important to remember that characters are not stagnant, their values and perceptions change all the time due to their circumstances and their life stories as well.

This is just a small piece of what makes BSD one of my favorite manga of all time, and I strongly recommend that you check it out if you have the time.

- Melián Trujillo.