When @isthatbloodonhisshirt posted My Name is Derek Hale and I saw the tag 'time loop', I cannot tell you how excited I was - I love time loop stories - and as soon as I started reading chapter two i thought 'man this is a cool visual, I bet it'd work pretty well as a comic'. And hey. Who's got two hands and a can-do attitude towards comic projects? This fella.
So here we go! I haven't done a long-form comic in more than a decade and I'm still figuring out how to draw the boys but doing a comic is always an ongoing learning process (:
(part of that learning process is doing covers which uhhhhhhh is going to be at the end of the chapter for Reasons)
(Also Stiles' alarm choice is totally on me, bless Ella for giving the go ahead lol)
Page 2 is scheduled for next weekend!
[P01 | next>>]
Original story on Ao3 by @isthatbloodonhisshirt
Steve and Robin move to a big city on the coast after Robin graduates from her college classes with a degree in the arts.
Itâs an impulsive decision, like many of theirs are. The kids are leaving for college, theyâve been fired from their jobs- Steve publicly chewed out a customer who made a gross comment about Robinâs chest- and neither of them particularly want to keep staying in their childhood homes still in their early twenties.
So they pick a city, cram their combined belongings into a car, and spend the better part of a few days slowly driving across country.
It takes a while because Steve insists on stopping at multiple cheesy landmarks on the way, much to Robinâs theatric dismay.
But they get there and they settle in and they⌠love it. They find an industrial style apartment that they can see the water from- over a handful of other brick buildings, anyway- and get new jobs at a musical diner. Turns out they can both sing, and Steve looks great in his tiny red shorts and rollerblades.
They spend their mornings arguing over what shape is superior to cook batter in (Robin is team waffle, Steve is team pancake) and giggling over the celebrity gossip section like teen girls. More often than not, they end up crashing in Robinâs bed at night even though they have separate bedrooms. Itâs wonderful.
But one night, they are so incredibly bored.
They get all dressed up just to pass the time, doing little model walks out to the living room, striking poses, taking goofy pictures to cover the walls in. The outfits turn out honestly kind of great and it feels like a waste not to go anywhere. So they do.
The original plan was to go to this queer club they found in their first week here, the entrance to which was. hidden inside the dry storage room of an Italian restaurant. However, they take a detour through the rich neighborhoods to ogle the stupidly big houses they couldnât afford even with twenty pooled years of diner salary, making fun of the absurdly shaped topiaries and obnoxiously shiny cars that made Steveâs look like a junk heap.
Thatâs when they get a reckless idea.
One of the houses a little separate from the others is a mansion with music thrumming from inside and flashing colourful lights, with a guard dressed in all black standing at the front door.
âAre you thinking what Iâm thinking?â
They blurted at the same time, slowing the car to a stop.
Minutes later, Steve strolled down the long, perfectly even paving stones set into the emerald lawn with an updated, adult version of his signature King Steve âI belong everywhere I show upâ face.
He was dressed in a loose silk shirt and dark wash jeans, hazel eyes rimmed in kohl and hair artfully messed on top of his head. Robin had caved into his suggestions earlier, dressed in an eggshell bustier- that she kept awkwardly adjusting where it dug into her side- and black slacks with gold buttons up the legs.
They donât look underdressed for the place, at least.
Steve gets stopped by the guard almost immediately and asked for his name, and Robin starts to sweat. Sheâs ready to apologize and say they must have accidentally come to the wrong place.
But Steve just scoffs, hand on his hip, with a righteously offended look on his face. âExcuse me?â He asks, tone dripping false condescension. âAre you seriously asking who I am?â
The guard looks nervous, immediately shuffling with his papers presumably carrying the guest list. A vein throbs in his temple and he flits his gaze between Robin and Steve in their dressy clothes and the door behind him.
What kind of people were at this party that the guard was that nervous about not recognizing someone?
The guard glances subtly at the list again and Robin can see there are only two names not checked off the list.
âNo, sir. Of course I recognize youâŚâ The guard trails awkwardly as he lies, âtrick of the light, couldnât see your face before. Come on in, my apologies.â
He checks off both names on the list, without asking again.
That worked?
Robin gave Steve a baffled side eye as they entered the house, to which he simply shrugged.
âMy mother always said to pretend I belonged anywhere I went with conviction. She said people would wittle out a spare chair for me with a spoon rather than admit they donât know why Iâm there.â
Robin snorted. âRich people.â
Steve just barely resisted the urge to elbow her in the ribs. âAt least if I was still rich, we wouldnât have wrestled over the last banana this morning.â
But then he paused, eyes taking in the other scattered guests.
âHey uh⌠is it just me or is everyone here-â
âInsanely hot?â Robin finished his sentence, sticking close to his side as she looked around. âSteve where the hell are we?â
Steve didnât have an answer for her, scanning the crowd of ridiculously attractive people in expensive outfits, mingling and dancing to the music playing from a speaker he couldnât find in the massive, open concept first floor.
He didnât get long to try and figure it out, however.
A low, faintly amused voice chimed in from a few feet away. âThatâs the question, isnât it?â The mystery person answered Robinâs query as Steve spun to face them, pulse spiking.
âI certainly would remember a face like that, especially since I made the guest list. So my return question is⌠how did you get into my house?â
