#i've been doing so much art these last few days it has been kind of crazy

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have the weirdest anime-fan gay friend. He didn't see the chemistry between L and Light (but did see it between L and Misa) and when I talked about weird dynamics so overwhelmingly everything in someone's life that they transcend being either platonic and romantic, he was surprised when I used Geto and Satoru as one of the examples (he did see the chemistry between Gojo and Utahime). I just. Man. How do you watch this stuff?

[junkboxcorner]

Does anyone remember that art I did of that pair of muppet OCs? Well, I decided that the monster one wasn't going to be enough, so...

Meet the Bumzedums!

Bumzedums are grotto-dwelling monsters that come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Though they're genderless, as they reproduce by shedding large amounts of their fur, observations of the real world have led plenty of them to take on gender identities based on personal expression.

The main Bumzedum grotto lies just underneath Basil Square, the setting for Mr. Chef's Diner. A main hidden passage in the pantry connects the diner to the grotto where the bumzedums live. Only certain people the Bumzedums trust, specifically furshedders that help the bumzies dance their shedding fur out, know where to find the passage.

The Bumzedum species is known for two things: their love of play and their generally peaceful attitudes towards others. They don't mind getting into a bit of mischief every now and then, however most of them make sure not to cause any grief. There are a few exceptions to this, however, only because there are some Bumzedums (such as Imzy) whose job it is to "create conflict". It's believed this job serves to keep the nest's collective problem-solving skills sharp. Bumzedums are generally shy around people, but not too shy as they have been found to take part in human society purely for survival. However, that's not to say that a lot of Bumzies wouldn't want to make friends with you, because they certainly do!

Most if not all Bumzedums contribute to the nest one way or another. Jobs range from basic ones like foraging for food (Gumzy) and keeping the grotto clean (Kipzy), to more complex ones like controlling the lights of the grotto (Zapzy) and helping other Bumzedums get to sleep (Bloomzy). Some jobs even serve purely as entertainment, such as Melzy the clown and Popzy the storyteller. Despite the broad range of jobs, not a single job is deemed more important than the other, and they try to help each other whenever they can.

[copperbadge]

Recently I ran across an article about an art center that was doing creative expression classes for people with disabilities. Not that unusual, I've encountered that and trauma-oriented art therapy before, but it was the first time I'd come across the idea since getting diagnosed with ADHD. While the class was aimed more at high-needs disabilities, it occurred to me that I could -- if I wanted -- make non-prose art about being disabled.

Outside of my work in scene design I've never been much of a visual artist because I've never felt I had the combination of "something to say" and "a meaningful way to say it", but I started to question how meaningful and complex I really had to be to just make some statements about having ADHD. I can do it in prose, after all.

So I started thinking about how you would talk, in visual language, about things like time blindness, shame stemming from undiagnosed disability, the shift in behavior that medication can induce. Ways to express my condition to people who don't experience it. I still didn't really know how to build the pieces but whenever I went to an art museum I'd think about how I might do a gallery installation. The centerpiece of my mental gallery was a pair of barcodes, one marked "Neurotypical" and one marked "Neurodivergent".

[ID: An interior view of a small booklet, with pages marked 1 and 2, showing barcodes -- on the left, labeled Neurotypical, and on the right, in slightly weirder configuration, labeled Neurodivergent.]

And then I thought, why not make a zine? Nothing you're thinking of couldn't be put in zine form instead of on a gallery wall.

[ID: The booklet continues to pages 3 and 4; on page 3 is a postage-style label reading AUTISM with up arrows on either side, and on page 4 is a QR code labeled ADHD. The QR code technically should work but it just dumps a block of text I wrote about having ADHD into a browser.]

I grew up with zine culture in the 90s and I always wanted to make one but much like with visual art, I never felt like I had the right kind of thing to say; either I had too much to say or too little, and anyway I wasn't confident that what I wanted to do wouldn't just come off as trite and obvious. But you can make a six-page zine out of a single sheet of paper, so I did: I made Helpful Labels For Strange Brains by idab zines, a division of Extribulum Press. (i--dab is a term for a cuneiform tablet that contains a royal communication.)

[ID: The last two pages feature the same image -- a cereal bowl with a spoon in it, the spoon containing a single Adderall pill. One image, however, is captioned "Wake up. Pour yourself a cup of iced coffee. Fix a bowl of cereal. It's going to be a good day." while the other is covered in a detailed ADHD-style step-by-step process for the same actions, culminating in "It's going to be a day like that."]

I'm pretty pleased with how it came out -- the art all looks intentional and it still has that "taped this together after school" aesthetic I remember fondly from the 90s. And the confines of six pages, each only a few inches square, offers a good structure to keep things clear, simple, and meaningful.

[ID: The cover of the zine, labeled "Helpful Labels For Strange Brains" in a kind of esoteric stampy font.]

Especially nice is that if you wanted to you could just hand out the flat sheet, and let folks fold it into a booklet or not -- there's instructions for folding it on the back of the zine. Additionally I have some sticker backed printer paper so I could print it such that you could literally turn the labels into real labels.

Anyway if you want it, here ya go. You can print it on a single sheet of paper and follow the instructions on the back to fold it. I thought about selling it but I do not have the spoons to do a bunch of printing and folding and shipping.

[scarletlizzard]

Inked Desires - Part 3

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Pairing: gp!Natasha × fem!Reader

Tags Minors DNI: natasha has a dick, miscommunication, unprotected sex, breeding, cheesy shit

Masterlist

A/n: Thank you to everyone who stuck around for this part, and thank you for 1,000 followers! 🥳 There are no more parts to this, but I do have some drabbles I'd like to write for it if y'all are interested 🫶 Please leave some feedback, and thank you again for reading ❤️

Art Creds for the first 2 pics: @sweet--escape17 (Please go check out their art, it's amazing!)

Also, shoutout: @oolsen (Thanks for helping me with the plot when I get stuck!)

****

Your eyes glaze over as you stare at the screen of your phone, looking at the same messages that had been sitting in your conversation with Natasha for the past week. You replay the events from the last night you saw her at Joe's bar, wondering where you went wrong. An entire week, gone, and not a single text. No 'Good Morning'. No 'Have a great day'. No ridiculous smiling emojis attached to an even more ridiculous joke. Instead, a one-sided conversation with yourself:

Y/N: I had so much fun last night!

Y/N: Have a good day, baby <3

Y/N: Maybe we can get together soon? Kate told me about a fair happening nearby next weekend. I think that might be fun!

Y/N: Hey, is everything okay?

It wasn't like Natasha to not text you back. The two of you had practically talked every day since meeting, and when you hadn't, she always had a good reason for not replying. Most of the time, it had been you that was too busy to text back... but now the quietness of the empty chat in the palm of your hand allowed an eerie loneliness to seep into your chest, along with a feeling of guilt.

***

"Come on, it'll be fun! " Kates voice rings in your ear from your phone. A sigh spills from your lips as you shake your head, knowing she can't see you.

"I don't know, I'm just not really in the mood..." You mumble into the speaker and silently thank the man who opens the door for you. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enters your nose, a small sense of comfort filling the cracks in your chest.

"Well, you don't really have a choice. You already know I'm dragging you with me... Plus, you can't be in a bad mood when you're eating caramel popcorn," You can practically see the grin on Kates face, knowing how much you loved the simple fair treat. You can also hear movement from the other side of the phone, raising an eyebrow as Kate shuffles around.

"Alright then, fine. Only for the popcorn," you sigh again as Kate cheers. She tells you goodbye as you walk up to the counter to order your usual latte. You pay and move to the opposite side of the counter to await your drink, when you spot a familiar red head in the corner.

Your eyes widen, chest bursting at the sight of Natasha. The feelings hit you all at once, guilt, anger, confusion. Overwhelmingly at the top, happiness. Her brows pull together in concentration at the paper, headphones rest atop her head as she sketches away in a notebook. Her short sleeve shirt reveals her inked skin, and you feel the familiar desire for her all over again.

You give yourself a second longer to stare, a second longer to mentally prepare yourself for what you want to say. Where have you been? Why haven't you texted me back? But as you step closer to the table, and her kind green eyes move away from the paper and to your not so composed stature, your mind seemingly empties.

"Hi," you say with a small smile after she removes her headphones. Natasha clears her throat awkwardly. You want to kiss her red cheeks.

"Y/N, hey," the smile she gives you back doesn't seem genuine, causing your own to fade.

"I've texted you a few times. Is... everything okay?" You ask, a small tilt of your head.

"Um, yeah, you know. I've just been busy?" She avoids your eyes, her body language distant as she crosses her arms with a shrug. You glimpse at the notebook open on the table, an intricate design of lines and shapes, before she closes it abruptly. "I actually have to get to work," Natasha sighs and throws the notebook and pencils into her bag. You don't miss the fact she's not wearing her work shirt.

"Right." You click your tongue as she stands, the tension in the air killing both of you.

As badly as Natasha wanted to pull you into her arms and kiss the worry off of your face, she couldn't. She couldn't deal with the fact she wanted more and that it was reciprocated. She couldn't deal with the fact that she wanted late night talks and laughs, while assuming you only wanted late night hookups. She couldn't deal with the fact that she liked you more than she thought she would, while assuming your interest in her was not on the same level.

"Look, can we talk?" Your soft tone surprises her as she stands, her tall frame towering over you. "Maybe tomorrow we can get together and just... talk. Huh, baby?" The term of endearment slips your tongue, and in a last ditch effort, your hand reaches out to softly touch her bicep.

Natasha finally meets your eyes again, and the two of you still for a moment, the coffee shop fading around you. She almost gives into you once again. She was weak against you. You feel her muscles tense in your grip, and the sound of your name being called by the barista takes her attention away from you. She takes a step backward and pulls on her pierced lip with her teeth.

"I uh, I'm hanging out with Yelena tomorrow," she rubs the back of her neck, attempting to sooth her nerves. You only stare up at her, feeling defeated. "Maybe next time."

You frown up at her, the feelings of confusion and anger rising to the surface as she refuses to look you in the eyes. "Sure. Next time."

Natasha opens her mouth to speak again, but no words come out. Instead, she turns her back to you and walks away, leaving you behind.

***

The next day, you found yourself once again staring at the empty conversation on your phone. You had typed up a million different messages, none of them sounding good enough to send. All night, you had tried to come up with the words to say to her. Ranging from paragraphs of you confessing your feelings to a simple, 'Hey, I like you. What are we doing?'

She had said she wanted more, didn't she? Why were you suddenly getting the cold shoulder?

You sigh aloud as you walk into your apartment building, calling Kate for the fourth time since you got off work early. In a rush this morning, you had forgotten your key, and you desperately hoped she was still there to let you in. Trudging slowly up the stairs, you get her voicemail - again.

As you walk up to the familiar sight of your door you knock hard, "Bishop, you'd better have a good fucking reason for not answering my calls," you joke and continue banging on the door. The lock clicks, and the door swings open. "I'm so glad you're home I-" you stop mid sentence, a now unfamiliar sight standing before you.

"Kate saw she had missed calls from you, I think she's hiding," Yelena laughs and steps back inside the apartment as you walk in behind her.

"Yelena.. I- what are you..?" Your heart picks up for a moment, assuming Natasha would be here with her.

"Oh, Kate invited me over for a movie day," her accent is thick as she speaks, and she gives you a friendly smile. Apparently, she was unaware of the current state between you and her sister.

"Aren't you hanging out with Natasha today?" You ask with a tilt of your head. Yelena raises an eyebrow and shakes her own head.

"No?" She questions and returns to her seat on the couch amongst a pile of pillows and blankets.

Your stomach drops. Natasha had lied to you. Why would she lie to you? Your mind begins to spiral at the list of reasons as to why she would. Kate walks out from the bathroom in the hall and sees the furious expression written on your face.

"Uh.. hey, you got off early!" Kate strides across the room towards you. "Everything okay?" She asks.

"Everything's great." You give her a bitter smile, making her eyes widen. "I'm sorry to interrupt your movie day," you look behind Kate to Yelena.

"Well, maybe since you're here, we can call Natasha over?" Yelena looks back to the now wide, sarcastic smile planted on your face.

"You know what, that's actually a great idea," you mutter and walk past Kate towards Yelena, who was already grabbing her phone.

"Y/N," Kate starts, but you quickly silence her with a glare.

"Oh, she finally answers!" Yelena laughs into the speaker and looks to you, blind to the situation unfolding in front of her. "Where are you at? Of course you are, that was a stupid question. Look, I'm at Y/N and Kates, we are having a movie day! Why don't you quit working out for 2 minutes and come over?"

At Yelenas words, you quickly walk to the kitchen counter where your key rests, grabbing it. She was at the gym, of course she was. You don't need to see Yelenas face change as you hear her English switch to fluent Russian. Natasha was finally filling her in. Kate gives you a look that you ignore as you leave the apartment and prepare yourself to make the 5 minute walk to Natashas gym.

The two of you passed by it any time you hung out, always pointing out the fact it was so close to your place and how you wondered why the two of you had never met before her party. Your footsteps are heavy against the sidewalk, and you don't give yourself a second to think about your current state. Still in your work uniformed shirt and slacks, hair a mess, eyes dark underneath from lack of sleep. It didn't matter. You were set on finally confronting her.

You walk inside to see Natasha standing by the weights, an unsurprised look on her face as she watches you move swiftly amongst the workout equipment. Your heart races in your chest, an uneasy feeling as Natasha begins to tower over you the closer you get. You try your best to ignore the tight black tank top she wore, along with the tight black shorts that showed off her toned and tatted thighs. You forced yourself to look only in her eyes.

"Y/N... let me explain," Natasha begins. You roll your eyes and ignore her words, anger bursting from every crack.

"So what is this then? You're just going to fuck me in a dirty bathroom bar then ignore me? Lie to me?" It leaves your mouth faster than you can think about it. Natasha meets your gaze at the words, a hurt expression on her face. Gone are the soft eyes once reserved for you, replaced with the cold stare everyone else receives.

"Are you kidding me? That's funny coming from you, Y/N," she scoffs, tone laced with venom.

"What the fuck does that mean?" You raise your voice, watching as Natasha steps forward towards you.

"Lower your tone," she commands, looking around the gym. You suddenly feel small. "I mean, that's all you want from me, isn't it? Look, I told you I wanted more of-of this," she motions between the two of you. "You don't, and that's fine, but stop trying to text me every time you need to get off." The last part is said in spite, and you feel as if you'd been pushed back. Natasha wanted to take it back as quick as she'd said it, but maybe being harsh was what she needed to get rid of her growing feelings towards you.

"Is that what you think I am? Just some slut trying to use you?" You spit back, watching her face twist in confusion.

"I never said that, Y/N."

"No, but it's implied."

"Unless the words leave my mouth, don't you dare put them in yourself."

"Is that seriously what you think?" You huff out. She nods, standing straight and crossing her arms.

"Well, yeah?" Her voice is unsure as she looks down at you. You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers.

"You are a fucking idiot," you say with a shake of your head. Natasha face contorts as you look back up.

"Excuse m-"

"Why do you think I text you all the time to hang out? Why I invited you to hang out with my friends ?" You ask her in a serious tone, seeing her body language soften. "You want to talk about putting words in mouths? You don't get to say if I do or don't like you - and for your information, I do. A lot," you sigh as you finish your ramble.

"You do?" Is all she says, and you don't know if you want to slap her or kiss her.

"Of course I do.. I thought that was pretty obvious." It's your turn to cross your arms as she brings a hand up to rub her inked neck, her cheeks turning red to match the hair braided behind her.

"It's just - I thought maybe - You didn't -" She stumbles over her words, suddenly with a nervous demeanor.

Natasha wasn't prepared for this. She was prepared for an argument and then to never see you again. She hadn't given it a thought that you actually did reciprocate those feelings. And now here you were standing before her, in her mind, looking as beautiful as ever. She was putty, again.

"You didn't say anything that night back, so I just assumed.." her voice is soft to match her eyes, and you feel that guilt again, seeping out of you.

"Baby.. I'm so sorry. It was only because I was so excited that you felt the same way I did, I didn't know what to say," you reply just as soft and step forward. Natashas eyes spark with life at the use of her favorite word, leaving your lips, and her arm instinctively flexes as you touch her forearm. "Maybe next time, give a girl a moment to gather her thoughts?" You say with a small smile. Your heart leaps at the smile that spreads across her lips.

There's a moment of silence between the two of you, and just like before, the world seems to quiet and blur around you.

"Hi," Natasha chuckles, and you roll your eyes at the familiar game.

"Hi," You giggle back and reach up to cup her cheek. She leans down with a strong hand resting on your hip, lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.

The two of your pull apart, but her large hand continues to rest on your side as you stand in front of her, now letting your eyes admire her toned muscles that were on display. The black lines on her skin move with every flex in her arm.

"Tell me more about this fair... will there be caramel popcorn?" Natasha asks. Your eyes shoot quickly up to hers as a warmth spreads through your chest.

You hadn't told her about your love for the snack. You lean up and kiss her again, ignoring the confused look on her face and letting yourself melt against her.

***

Lights of all colors of the rainbow seemed to flash around you. The sounds of laughter and screaming of people on the rides filled your ears. Your eyes search the area around you, watching as couples and families walk from stand to stand. A few teenagers run by, and a loud ringing and a cry of, "Winner!" catches your attention from next to you.

"Holy shit!" Kate laughs and taps your arm, showing you the brown teddy bear she won. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"Only took you about ten tries," you laugh along with her, reaching out to check out the bear. As you hand it back to her, you notice her eyes trail above your head. Then, a pair of thick arms wrap around your waist from behind. You can smell the familiar scent of the fragrance she wore.

"Well, well, what have we won?" Natasha asks from behind you. You lean back against her, smiling widely as she leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. "Pretty girl.." She mumbles in your ear, fingers tracing the material of your dress.

Things had been going great with Natasha since you talked about your miscommunication. Her morning texts returned, along with nightly chats over the phone until one of you fell asleep. She took you on dates, and you even went with her to the gym. Though, that mostly consisted of you shamelessly checking her out while she blushed gorgeously. You were happy, truly happy. One thing that had been building between the two of you was a certain... tension. The last time you both were intimate was the night at the bar. Since then, there have only been a few heavy make-out sessions and teasing between you. It seemed neither one of you wanted to be the first one to give in to those oh so familiar desires.

"Kate finally won a teddy bear, twenty dollars later," you cough out the last part jokingly and rest your hands on top of Natashas that stayed wrapped securely around you.

Kate groans and rolls her eyes playfully, "You know what? I'm not sharing him with you anymore."

You scoff, feeling Natashas chest rumble as she laughs along with Kate. "Yelena is at the ticket stand, by the way," Natasha says with a small smirk on her lips. Kates eyes widen a bit.

"Oh?" She says with a slow nod. "You know, actually, I think I need some more tickets!" Kate pats her pockets innocently with a shrug and gives you a smile. "Meet you later?" She asks, and you give her nod before she walks away.

Turning in Natashas arms, you finally get a good look at her, and you could drool at the sight of her in her white shirt and blue jeans. Just as always, you can see the pops of color peaking out from the seams, dark lines visible through the thin fabric. Her crooked smile lets a chuckle slip through.

"Alright?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as you continue to gawk at her.

"More than alright," you clear your throat and step back, letting your hand take hers. "Now, are you going to win me a teddy bear, or do I have to do it myself?" You poke her side, and she laughs.

"Step aside, I've got this," Natasha leans down to kiss your forehead, taking out her wallet and handing money to the man in charge of the booth.

"Three shots to knock down the bottles, and it's all yours!" He cheers loudly to gain the attention of others, showing off the teddy bear in question. Natasha takes the ball in her hand, and your eyes are glued to her broad shoulders as she winds up. She throws the ball, missing completely.

"That was just a warm-up," she turns back to look at you, clearing her throat. You stiffle a laugh and purse your lips, nodding.

"Of course, baby! Just a warm-up."

"Two more shots!" The man cries.

Natashas gaze changes from playful to pure concentration, eyes focused intently on the stacked bottles in front of her. She throws again, this time knocking two of the three bottles down. You can't help but let out a giggle this time at the proud expression on her face as she turns to you once more.

"One shot, and it's all yours!" He says loudly, shaking the bear next to her.

"Piece of cake," Natasha says with a laugh. She takes the last ball and winds up again, only to miss completely.

"Ohh, out of luck!" He says with a shrug and moves away. "Who's next?" He yells.

Natasha turns to you with red cheeks, "So maybe I'm not so good at this?" She rubs the back of her neck, and you only shake your head.

"Step aside," you repeat her own words to her, brushing against her as you hand the man money. He goes through his same shpiel and hands you a ball. Only when you go to throw it, the ball hits the bottles perfectly. All three go down instantly.

"Winner!" He yells loudly, handing you the stuffed bear. You smile widley as you take it and return to Natasha, a stunned look on her face.

"But.. how did you.." She shakes her head.

"Here you go, princess," you tease and hand her the bear, giggling as she rolls her eyes but accepts it.

"Alright now, at least let me buy you some popcorn," Natasha laughs along with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walk.

The two of you spend the next couple of hours riding the carnival rides the fair had to offer, walking around aimlessly, laughing and smiling, teasing each other. You had never felt happier. As you stand there, finally eating your favorite sweet treat, you look at Natasha stood next to you, the sight making you smile. You take out your phone and step back, ignoring the questioning look from her and snap a picture.

You giggle at the image you got of her, the stark contrast of her heavily tattooed and pierced body whilst standing there holding a teddy bear and a box of popcorn was a sight to behold.

"What was that for?" She raises an eyebrow, trying to look at the picture you took.

"Nothing, I just wanted a good memory of this," you smile and put your phone back in your pocket quickly, grabbing another handful of the caramel popcorn. Natasha smiles back. Before she can say anything, a raindrop hits her face.

"What the -" She starts, looking up at the dark night sky. The drops start coming faster, hitting harder as the rain begins to pour. All around you, people begin walking quickly to canopies, attempting to stay dry. "Come on," she says and grabs your hand.

The two of you make your way through the crowds of people, rain pouring down as she leads you out of the fairgrounds. The bright lights and loud music begin to fade as you run behind her, seeing her car just across the lot. Once you reach it, Natasha opens the passenger door for you.

The small act has you swooning as she stands there, waiting with a smile for you to get in. That even in the pouring rain, she was just the type of person to open the door for you. Instead of moving past her, you reach up to take her face in your hands, stepping on your tiptoes to kiss her.

The darkness is thick around the two of you, rain drowning out any nearby sounds. Natashas hands move from the door to wrap around your back, letting you down on your feet as she leans down to deepen the kiss. The cold rain is unforgiving as you melt into each other. A shiver runs through your body as her tongue slips in your mouth, a groan leaving your throat as the two halves spread to engulf your own. At your shiver, she pulls away breathlessly.

"We should get in," she utters against your lips. You nod feverishly.

"Backseat," you say, earning a groan from Natasha. She quickly pulls you away and opens the back door, letting you climb in. She follows behind, and as soon as the door is shut, you are climbing into her lap, lips colliding with hers again. The kiss is messy, tongues sloppily licking at eachothers mouths as you make out.

"Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?" Natasha moans as your lips travel to her neck, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every nip. At her words, you grind your hips down in her lap, feeling her growing bulge. "F-fuck," she whimpers, bucking her hips up as you grind against her. "I need to be inside you, now," she groans. Her large hands move to your thighs, lifting your dress above your hips.

"Desperate, are we?" You purr, bitting down hard against her neck. She moans and nods, letting one of her hands move up to grip your jaw.

"Y/n," the soft look in her eyes is replaced with dark lust. "I need to fuck you. Now," she reiterates, grip on your jaw tight. Her thumb slips into your mouth, and as you suck on the digit she moans.

Your hands move to the bottom of her shirt, lifting the heavy, wet fabric over her head, along with her bra. Your fingers trace the tattoos that litter her collarbone, nails scratching lightly. You couldn't deny you were just as desperate for her. Natasha lets you up slightly to undo her jeans, pulling them down past her knees along with her underwear. She winces as you return to your previous position in her lap, hard cock rubbing against your still clothed pussy. She could feel you soaking through the thin material.

"God, I've missed this," you mumble as her lips reconnect with yours. You feel her fingers pull your underwear to the side, the tip of her cock rubbing against your aching cunt. Your hips hover over her length before slowly taking in a few inches.

The two of you moan loudly in the small car at the feeling, windows already fogged from your breathy groans.

"My pretty girl.. fuck," Natasha hisses as you lower yourself all the way down, feeling her thick cock stretching you out completely. "You were just made to take me," she moans again, hands resting on your hips. Your hands grip onto her shoulders, nails digging into the side of her neck. Her hands guide your hips to move, and you begin to ride her. Your eyes screw shut as she splits you in two, euphoria filling your veins with every movement of her own hips slapping up to meet your bounces.

"Look at you riding my cock, such a good girl for me," Natasha grunts as she watches your lips part, head thrown back in pleasure. "Taking every inch, fucking yourself on me," she pants out.

The coil in your stomach was building quickly, and as your legs began to grow weak, Natasha held tightly onto your hips, thrusting up into you harshly. Your mouth met hers again, and she swallowed your moans as you kissed her. "Baby I-I'm gonna cum," you moan out, whimpering as she shakes her head.

"Hold it. You cum with me or not at all," Natashas voice is stern, and your head falls forward into her neck. Your chests press together, and you can feel the piercings on her nipples rub against your dress as her arms wrap around your back to hold you in place.

"I wanna feel you soak my cock, god just listen to your pretty cunt make those noises," she moans. You can hear your wetness with every thrust, mixing the the rain hammering onto the roof of the car. The two of you are wet, sticky, and messy. Natashas primal urges to fuck you sending you closer and closer.

"Ohh, Nat, please I need to cum! Fill me up, baby," your moans turn higher pitched and she knows you won't last any longer, and neither will she.

"That's it, pretty girl.. cum for me. That's it, soak my cock, fuck, fuck!" Natashas mouth let's out a string of curses, fucking up into you mercilessly. The coil in your stomach snaps at her words, and you feel your orgasm hit hard. You moan her name loudly, body trembling as you feel her load fill you up, your hot walls swallowing every drop. Natashas hips finally slow to a stop, and you're left limp in her arms as the two of you pant against each others skin.

"So good, so good... my pretty girl..." Natasha whispers against your neck, holding you tightly. You stay like that for a while, head resting against her shoulder and just holding onto each other. The cool piercing on her lip brushes against your skin as she peppers kisses up to your face.

You lift your head to meet her soft green eyes with a smile, feeling her fingers brush your messy, damp hair out of your face. Before Natasha can even think to say it, you open your mouth.

"Hi," you giggle, earning a breathy laugh from the red head.

"Hi," she gives you a toothy grin and kisses your head.

****

The sunlight creeps through the windows, warming your skin. It was late in the morning, when you habitually reached out to grab your phone. Your heavy eyes barely peeking open as you check the screen. For a moment, in your sleepy morning haze, you looked for a 'good morning' text, but saw none.

It was then a pair of inked arms wrap around you from behind, and you smile to yourself, feeling Natashas body wrap around you protectively.

"Good morning," she mumbles tiredly against you, breath fanning the back of your neck. You chuckle and let yourself melt back into her hold, hands holding onto her arms as you drift back to sleep.

[barblaz-arts]

I know you've been making a lot of art of it lately, but out of curiosity, what's your opinion on Hazbin Hotel in general? I'm referring to both the show and the fandom here. Just curious.

God. What a loaded question. Are you ready? Bcuz I'm fresh from Vaggie discourse on twitter and I have a lot to say.

I think that Hazbin Hotel seems worse than it is for people who know the fandom but haven't actually watched the show. Honestly, I think it's a fine show. It isnt super incredible and I'm not gonna sing praises about how deep and thought provoking it is or whether it's an artistic masterpiece. It never tried to be that and was never advertised as such(to my knowledge) anyway. I just had a lot of fun. Like, yeh sure the cussing in the dialogue can be a bit much, especially in ep 1, but there are different writers in other episodes, so it gets better. It can be super crude yeh, but I grew up watching things like the Scary Movie franchise and other dumb american movies (yes, i was too young for them. yes, i still watched them), so it's pretty tolerable for me. It also helps that Charlie is the main character. That's one of the main reasons why I watch HH but dont watch HB. It's probably a fun show, but without a sweetheart like Charlie to balance things out, I'd just get tired of the sex jokes and mean jokes.

Compared to my last hyperfixation, I think I have more things to love about Hazbin Hotel, believe it or not. With Netflix's Wednesday, I had already been an Addams Family fan for a while and hung on because I loved the family and eventually Enid and wenclair. The show itself was honestly meh... so far! I'll give season 2 another shot.

But with Hazbin Hotel, it catered to a lot of things I've always loved. Found family with a bunch of misfits? We didnt get to see it much bcuz of the fuckass 8-ep per season format we have nowadays, but its fine its there! The juxtaposition of a kind hearted woman in a harsh world? Love love Charlie for that, I watched the show in the first place because of her. A canon lesbian lover with a "fuck the world cuz my world is you" type of love for the protag? Fuck yes. How very Pearl-from-Steven-Universe of Vaggie. And the music? The music is soooo good. I didn't know the songwriter prior to watching, so I was nervous about the songs, but I knew most of the theater actors they cast(still cant believe Jeremy fucking Jordan is Lucifer) so I figured even if the songs are mid, at least the performances would be topnotch. And they were! But the songs were a pleasant surprise. Sam Haft did real damn well. I still listen to the soundtrack to this day.

The fandom, however, is probably the worst one I've been in. And I've been in a lot in my big age... Just... lacking media literacy, and based on the replies I get when I say something on twitter, it seems a lot of them lack reading comprehension and just plain emotional intelligence too.

There's a lot of criticisms about this show that I honestly think is fair. Pacing, character design, overuse of the F word, whatever. But in my opinion, claiming that Hazbin is a male-centered show is an unfair misconception that is mostly the fault of the fandom.

Bcuz, sure, the male characters are uber popular. Alastor, Vox, Lucifer, Angel Dust and the many web of ships they're involved in went trending every few business days. But come on now. How often does a fandom even have their main protag as the most talked about character? This has been going on for ages. Just because the boys have the most merch and fics and fanarts and thirsty fans doesn't mean that they had the spotlight for most of the show itself. It only meant that they were the ones the viewers paid attention to, in a fandom filled with people drooling over the next tumblr sexyman and toxic yaoi ship of the month.

But if you actually look back at what the show gave us so far, the boys didnt outshine the women. I actually think the women got to do more and be more as characters than the men did. Let's take a look at the male characters.

Alastor was not in all the episodes. In fact, he was MIA in two out of the eight episodes. In all the episodes he was in, he was a mere side character. His purpose in season one was to stir the pot and be the intriguing mystery that occasionally quips. But he was not the one whose deeper thoughts were explored and whose character and goals was challenged THROUGHOUT the show, merely alluded to at the VERY END of the season, which is hardly him taking the spotlight away from Charlie. If you merely looked at the fan content of him, you'd think he were a father figure to Charlie(or a love interest. whatever) and that he has developed a soft spot for the Hazbins deep down in that cannibal heart of his. But if you pay attention to the show, he never had even a meaningful one on one conversation with the Hazbins. The only time that happened is when (a)he threatened Husk's life (b)when he constantly mocked Charlie while she was down in the dumps and used this as an opportunity to manipulate her and (b)when he told Niffty watching the crew sure can "make one sentimental", even tho he had taken no prior opportunity to bond with them! There's no foundation for all the fandom's claims that he could be redeemed bcuz of a budding fondness for the group, but that's all you see of his fan content(aside from the horniness). I dont have any problem with his lack of an actual relationship with the Hazbins bcuz I believe redemption for him is not what the show is going for, but it's frustrating to see people interpreting it that way BUT not seeing how horridly developed it would be if that is the case, meanwhile they turn around and say that Vaggie and Chaggie as a ship "had terrible development".

Then we have the male Vees. Vox was only ever in episode two, and was essentially a youtube reactor in episode 8. He was in ep 4 but had no speaking lines. We only know of his obsession with Alastor and the toxic relationship he has with Val. Val, meanwhile, is merely shown as the sex obsessed fiend behind Hell's sex industry and Angel's abuse. They did what they needed to do with minimal screentime. It was fine, but that's IT. Despite what little CANON gave so far, you have hundreds of people writing essays and fics and fanarts about them being complicated characters. But to reiterate, this does not mean that they are bad characters or that they don't deserve the fame. But to say that these men are better written within canon than the women is such a bold statement when most of the depth they knew of these characters were lore drops given before the show and their own speculations as they dug into the shallow soil of what the show has so far.

I'm not gonna speak about Angel and Lucifer. Because I think they were characters who were legitimately well-explored so far.

Now onto the women. So many of them were given the opportunity to have their characters challenged or given the agency to push characters and the plot forward or give you intrigue about implications of what's to come for the characters and the plot. I've talked a lot about Charlie and Vaggie. So let me talk about the other, terribly underrated women of Hazbin.

Velvette and Carmilla were the ones who advanced the subplot in the war against Heaven. Because of Carmilla's love for her family despite being a demon, an angel was killed. It gave Heaven the excuse to escalate things, but it also gave Charlie hope later on in the season that they're not powerless. Carmilla was also the first demon shown to make selfless actions that is contrary to what is expected of demons, making it proof that Charlie's belief that demons deserve a second chance isn't unwarranted. She's an interesting character, as an overlord who hangs on to power but clearly has morals. But how often do you see people writing essays about her? Eating up the fact that she's a powerful overlord but would sacrifice anything for her daughters? If Carmilla were a man, hundreds of girlies would be drooling over the crime boss who has a soft spot for his daughters.

Meanwhile, Velvette got to demonstrate why exactly she's an Overlord despite being the youngest demon in there. She's calculating and observant. She gives off a haughty vibe and constantly boasts about how she's young and fresh, but she isn't naive. During that meeting, she paid attention to Carmilla and Zestial's relationship. In order to find out who killed the angel, she riled everyone up, and when she got the feeling it was Carmilla, she mocked Zestial so that Carmilla could slip up. By playing these Overlords who are older and more experienced than her, Velvette showed what exactly her asset was to the Vees and why she's a threat, something that Vox and Val have yet to be given the opportunity to do when they were busy eye-fucking Alastor and literally fucking Angel. But in fan content about the Vees, Velvette is almost treated as an after thought to the boys...

Then we have the Seraphs. Not only were their designs gorgeous, their dynamic and presence as characters had impact to the plot and main characters.

Emily is a much needed character to show that this story isn't meant to tell you that Heaven = bad; Hell = good. There is good and bad in both, and it is so important for the protags to know that they have an ally in Emily who represents the true virtues that heaven is supposed to uphold. And I love the confrontation she had with Sera when her own view of what's right and good was challenged. We got to see the strength of her character and started the seeds of what could be heaven's acceptance of Charlie's goals.

Sera is such an interesting character to me. She was also important to show that not all angels were sadistic like Adam and Lute, but not in the same way Emily was. I have no idea so far which direction this show would go with her. But I'm intrigued by the fact that she seems to be driven by fear, unlike Adam and Lute's cruelty. She knew Lucifer and was there when he was cast out for his disobedience. Whether everything she's doing is to prevent that from happening again remains to be seen, and I'm looking forward to this kind of subplot for her.

And then Rosie! I really really look forward to seeing more from her. Spoilers aside, something I barely see people talk about is how interesting it is that Rosie is every bit the leader that Charlie hopes to be. Rosie is able to be a respected overlord in her own faction without needing to sacrifice her love for showmanship and music and her positive disposition. When we were officially introduced to her, they show how she seems to care about actually taking care of her people, not JUST ordering them around, by talking to them personally and giving advice. That's exactly what Charlie wanted to do for her people, isn't it? The hotel to Charlie was what the emporium was to Rosie. They have a lot of similarities that could set up for Rosie to be the one to teach Charlie in becoming a leader. Now whether that's a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen, but it is rather compelling.

So yeah! With all that said, I really dont think this show ignores its women at all. Just because a bigger part of the fandom gravitated towards the men doesn't necessarily mean its a misogynistic show so far. But if certain people are claiming that the women are badly written, then I hope they also own up to the fact that their blorbos are just as shallowly presented within the show, maybe even more so. Which wouldn't even be a bad thing! Since when did a show or character have to be amazingly written for a person to like them? That's just no fun at all. All I'm saying is... Fuck this fandom's double standards, hiding behind claims that it's the writing's fault when the problem is they couldn't be bothered to think about the women.

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[justgivemethephd]

15.11.2024

Happy Friday everyone!

I am completely dead. I had to start lab work at 6:45am today and I will be running my analysis until probably around 8pm or 9pm, so I'm basically surviving on coffee at this point. Buuuuut fortunately it is giving me plenty of time to work on my upgrade report, for which I have written about a quarter of the introduction so far. Considering I started writing it yesterday and already know exactly where I want to go with it, I think that's pretty good. I'm hoping I can have something resembling a first draft by the end of next week, and then with a bit of luck one of the post docs in my group will agree to read through it.

Other than that nothing much has happened. I've been quite busy but I've done almost everything I wanted to do this week, which I'm super happy about. I'm still not feeling 100%, but at least I am feeling more consistently motivated. I had a meeting with both my supervisors today for the first time in a while and it was also good to be able to discuss what I've been working on and plan with them what I will be doing in the next few months. I think it allowed me a moment to consider everything I've done in the last year and kind of centre myself again. After feeling like I've been spinning out of control for so long, that's also a big relief. Overall, I'm doing a lot better mentally than I have been in the last few weeks, and I'm looking forward to the weeks of hard work that are coming my way.

My boyfriend will be out of the apartment this weekend, and while it would do me some good to rest on Saturday I'm really tempted to take myself out on a solo date. I've been meaning to go to a modern art museum, and considering I have to run some errands anyway maybe I could kill two birds with one stone. We will see what happens, but it kind of all boils down to my energy levels at the end of the day. Plus, I'm starting to play dungeons and dragons with my friends again on Sunday, so I have to consider that this won't be a rest day either! Still, I'm looking forward to a hopefully relaxing time.

I hope everyone has a great weekend! Please take care of yourselves and take some time to reset.

_____

🎧 - 'My Marmalade' by Katya Lel

🎮 - World of Warcraft

📖 - Once upon a broken heart by Stephanie Garber

[vanessagillings]

I love your art so much!!! I've also been starting to paint with gouache, and I'd love to know a little more about your process! What kind of paints do you use, do you sketch first or start with paint, do you paint in layers over several day or all at once?

Hi and thank you! I hope you don't mind me answering this publicly and apologies for length, but:

MY ART PROCESS!

Supplies: I use winsor and newton gouache and arches cold press paper blocks, usually 140 lbs (the lime green ones) and sometimes 300 lbs (the teal green ones). Even though this paper comes pre-stretched in blocks, I actually take the sheets off and stretch them myself because I've found arches' glue isn't as strong as it used to be. This is how you get watercolor paper to lay flat! I recommend youtubing some videos on how to do it -- there's a lot of great tutorials out there. Also, I use princeton brushes, and kraft paper tape and these boards to stretch my paper. (these aren't affiliate links, I just shop at blick)

A word about art supplies: these are the exact tools I use but everyone uses supplies differently and two people with the exact same supplies might get different results! A lot of it is about what works for you and what you like, so I always suggest that gouache/watercolor beginners just buy a few tubes from a couple of different paint companies and some small pieces of paper from different manufacturers to see what you like. Just changing one ingredient in the above has created massively different results for me, but maybe that'll end up being something you'd like! The first step in learning a new medium imo is to play. Just have fun!

ALSO: gouache isn't super light permanent, check your tubes for which ones hold up to sunlight. Here is winsor and newton's color chart explaining which ones will fade when exposed to sunlight -- all manufacturers will give you this. I only use the colors rated A and AA, and I still frame my pieces with UV glass just to be safe. Not all gouache is re-wettable, but winsor and newton is. I just put it in my palettes and refill my palettes if it runs low. AND SOME PAINT IS TOXIC. A lot of paints have cadmium and cobalt in them. I don't use any of the toxic colors, but if you do, make sure you don't eat while working and wash your hands thoroughly afterwards. This information is also usually available on manufacturer's websites. As more people are rejecting cadmium paint, you'll see more tubes labeled things like cadmium-free yellow. This is why. More artists should be aware that their tools can be dangerous. You don't need that many tubes of paint to begin, just a warm and cool red, warm and cool yellow, warm and cool blue, white and black. I have around 50 colors and use 20 regularly. I always mix all my colors myself, and never use straight tube paint. Most of my colors have about 5-6 different tube colors mixed together. If you use re-wettable paint a tube of paint will last you years; even as a professional I only buy new paints every 5 years or so.

Process: I ALWAYS start with a sketch first. Not everyone has to, but because I do illustration work -- where sometimes a client gets input on a drawing -- I always do a lot of preliminary work before I even begin to paint. At this point, even my personal work usually involves the exact same process:

I start with a 3" or so thumbnail that I scan (left; I traced it quickly digtally for clarity to myself here) and then either clean up digitally or print out and clean up traditionally with tracing paper (right):

Then I scan the cleaned sketch in and color rough it digitally (left, this was for a gallery show, so no one had to approve my color roughs, so it's messy!) then I transfer my sketch to my paper (with either carbon transfer paper or a light table), stretch my paper, and paint (right):

I obviously changed my mind about the color of the ribbon in the trees, ha, and made everything a lot more vibrant. The benefit again of gallery work is no pre-approval!

You are correct, I paint in a series of washes, going from lightest to darkest, where I apply the same color beneath all shapes that are the same warmth (cools under all upcoming cools, warms under all upcoming warms). I paint a piece usually in one or two days, depending on complexity. I didn't take pictures of the above painting, but here's a different painting to show you a little bit what I mean:

I painted the peach color under everything (and twice for skin tones), and the gray color of the sky under everything that would be grayish (the rocks, trees, her pants, her skirt, and coat). I do this to stop me from getting darker lines where two different colors butt up against each other, and also for color harmony. I have step by step photos of this in my process stories highlight on my instagram; also check my FAQ and tip highlights for more info on all this stuff. Most pieces take around 25-30 washes before I start adding in the details (sometimes I add in face details early though because if I mess those up it's not worth finishing the rest of the painting! 😅)

All this might seem like a lot of work (...it is) but I do it so that I can show clients previews of the final piece and so I don't have to repaint the finals. I also used to pre-test all of my washes on scrap paper like this:

I still recommend doing this if you're just beginning! But at this point I only do it when testing techniques because I know my paints really well. (the above was my test for the pine boughs in this piece)

Painting by far is the longest part of the process, so I do more work up front to not have to do it twice. Every piece takes about 6-24 hrs of actual work time to produce. Stretching watercolor paper takes about 24 hrs to dry, and because I sell most of my originals in galleries, they need to be flawless, so planning ahead is useful and in the end saves me time.

And to conclude this novel of an explanation, don't be overwhelmed by all the information I've given you! I put it here so that people at various stages of their artistic journey can maybe find something useful in it. But seriously, the first step to learning how to paint whether it's traditionally or digitally is just to have fun. Try it out, see what's working and what isn't, and then try to solve specific issues that you're struggling with. I've been doing this for a loooooong time at this point, but here's my first watercolor piece from when I was re-teaching myself how to paint traditionally nine years ago:

Obviously, I was destined for greatness. Ha, yeah, no. If you scroll back through my tumblr archive, you can see me learning how to use these paints in real time. And keep in mind that I'd been working digitally for years before then, and years before that where I didn't post my work online at all.

So for anyone who needs to hear it: there's no such thing as talent, just hard work, patience, and trying again and again and again...and sometimes again. What I do is a skill and anyone can learn it. Sometimes, progress is slow. I'm 38. I only really feel like my art was half-way decent starting a few years ago, but I've been making art my entire life, and I went to art school at 18. 20 years later I'm kind of figuring it out.

The best advice I can give, whether it's about art or not, is find the thing you love so much that you'll keep at it even when you suck at it, because most skills you'll suck at to begin with -- and perhaps for a long time. I sucked at art for yeeeaaaaarrrrs. On top of the usual learning curve, I struggled with fine motor control and dexterity. But I loved it so much I kept trying every time I failed. If I can do it, so can all of you, no matter what stage of art you're at now, and no matter how old you are.

Anyway, thank you to those still reading this deep in. I wish you all the best on your artistic journey. Art can kick your butt sometimes, but it's also pretty dang rewarding 💛

[crescent--crow]

Finally drew OG Wally art

I eventually wanna draw him accurately but I still struggle unfortunately

Changed a few things last minute on the finished piece cuz it didn't sit right .

I've had Dr Sunshine is dead stuck in my head all day and I went you know that song hits just right for Wally lmao. At least to me it gives the equivalent of The Tornado by Owl City. Just me?

I'll never not be able to get this man out of my head it seems. After drawing him every month since last year I wanted to give myself a break. Why? Why ? Why? Tbh I'm not sure , I adore his design and I love all the efforts Clown puts into Welcome Home. Tis why I've supported as much as I could. (And still do)

I don't really follow everything that happens in the fandom cuz I don't have the time to dwell on dramas that happen in every place it seems. I'm too old for that stuff.

This is as close as I'll ever get to drawing Wally lmao. I don't think I'll ever stop. And funny enough I've never really been a fanart kinda artist. But with all the beautiful AU's and dedications everyone put forth on this lil dude.

I also want to thank this lil dude in particular because he's helped me develop my painting style since day one of drawing him. You can see my development and new experiment ideas that didn't always turn out good. But I'm so damn proud of myself which is hard to say even for me. Why? Self doubt bears my arms despite spending countless hours on pieces that I try to make better the more I settle on it. He wears his heart on his feet and is a silly lil dude. But we know the cool aspect of Welcome Home is the spooky factor. I wanted to give it a try. I'm not quite sure what kind of artist I am because I want to do everything. Horror has always been my one thing I wanted to give a try. But I'm always scared it might be portrayed the wrong way. So maybe surrealism is the way to go? I dunno I'm ramblin

Anyway 🐦‍⬛💕 have a great weekend I have a con to get ready for. I'm utterly tired 😭

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

I noticed that you don't have any dabihawks smut fics so I would like to request one. Thank you and have a great day!

Oh dear reader!! This request inspired one of my fave fics I've written to date - I hope you enjoy!! 27 pages of pure HotWings smut ❤️

-------------------

Bed Chem. | Dabi x Hawks 🌶🔥🦅

Summary: Hawks is having the worst day ever. He's spent the day modeling in a magazine photoshoot at a goddamn retro roller rink. He's tired, he's overstimulated and now his clothes have gone missing. Wonder who took them!? Enemies to lovers DabiHawks smut. A18+ MDNI

Bed Chem. | Dabi x Hawks

“You ready for the next round of photos, Hawks?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Ugh. No, he’s honestly not. But, whatever! The Number Two Hero’s gotta act the part, right? Photo-shoots are a necessary evil to maintaining his rating on The Hero Chart.

Hawks ruffles his feathers and stretches his arms high over his head as he waits for the makeup gal to touch up his eyeliner. She delicately dabs at his face with a wet cloth, cleaning away the makeup where it’s running down his cheek with sweat. With a flourish, she reapplies the liner. Her motions are delicate, languid. The way she applies each stroke with care stirs some warmth in the winged hero. He tries to seem appreciative as she finishes touching him up.

The makeup lady looks to be in her early 50s. Decked out in black, she fits right in on the set. She has a kind face with greying, flyaway hair tucked into a light blue bandana. She’s nice. Hawks immediately warms to her.

“Don’t worry dear.” She says as she uses a soft brush to dab some concealer under his bright golden eyes. “They said this would be the last shot for the magazine.” The doting tone causes his chest to ache. She has such strong mom vibes. It makes him briefly think about his own sad excuse for a mother and how she sold him to The Commission all those years ago – no. He shakes his head. He can’t let his thoughts go down that dark alleyway. Not right now. Not when he needs to be on.

“Thanks!” He says brightly as the woman folds up her caboodle and stands back to admire her handiwork. He takes the hand mirror she hands him and grins into it, admiring the sharp red wings she’s drawn across his eyelids. “This looks great. Seriously I can’t thank you enough.” He hands back the mirror and she nods gratefully. He doesn’t get to ask her name before he’s whisked back onto set.

“Alright, Hawks. This is the last set up we have for today. Just skate a few laps around the rink with the models and that should give us what we need.” The art director says, flipping through his clipboard of notes absentmindedly.

Hawks nods, eyes glazed over as he zones out. They’ve been at this for hours. It’s a photo shoot for some fashion magazine (or maybe it’s a women’s health publisher!? He’s done so many shoots lately he honestly can’t remember). He’s exhausted and oddly sore from holding so many poses under the hot studio lights. All he wants to do is go back to his quiet apartment, take a cool shower in the dark and fall asleep after a handful of minutes mindlessly scrolling on his phone. But unfortunately…hero duty calls. It’s sort of ridiculous how much popularity seems to matter with being a hero.

The past few hours have been spent down the block taking photos in a sleek, upscale fashion photography studio. For this last bit of the shoot, the Magazine thought it would be fun to have some pictures taken with more…”personality.” It is for that reason that the Magazine has rented out a local roller rink for this next part of the day.

The place is dated but has an odd sort of retro charm to it. The large rink has smooth, freshly waxed wooden floors that glint in the lowlight. The walls are mostly black with glow in the dark accents and corny 80s posters plastered all over the place. The rink has a goofy DJ booth situated in the center under an obnoxiously large disco ball.

And then…there’s Hawks and his final outfit. They’ve put him in a tight fitting white tank top tucked into the tiniest pair of red athletic shorts Hawks has ever seen. His muscular thighs are on full display for all to see, and he’s oddly embarrassed about it. There’s a reason Hawks usually wears layers of clothing while doing his hero work. Of course, it gets cold flying in the air. That’s a given. But his thick coat and pants also serve to hide his body from the greedy eyes of the public. He liked being cozy and protected from the prying eyes of the world. He could pretend to flaunt and flirt all he wanted, but at the end of the day he wanted some part of his body to feel like his.  It would be nice to have some sense of ownership over his own life.

But now here he is, in the world’s sluttiest little outfit, about to roller skate in circles while photographers captured pretty pictures of his confident façade. Jeez, this sucks.

He bends over and adjusts the striped high socks the costuming department had given him to wear under his bright red roller skates. This has got to be one of the worst outfits he’s worn in his entire life (And he’s worn some pretty atrocious outfits).

“Alright, places everyone!” The art director claps his hands and Hawks stands up and glides on his skates towards the middle of the rink track. There’s models everywhere wearing similarly slutty outfits – shorts and tank tops and high socks and bright 80s skates.

“Oh, Hawks.” The art director calls his way. The Winged Hero turns, eyebrows raised in a question. “What music do you want to listen to?”

Oh. That’s nice of them to ask. Hawks relishes in the tiny thing he’s been allowed to have control over. He bites his lip as he thinks it over.

“Can you play some 80s New Wave?” He asks, trying to sound like he doesn’t care if they do or not. The art director nods and waves for the sound tech to plug his iPhone into the DJ both audio jack.

“Alright, start skating everyone. We’ll call out suggestions as you go.” The photographers get into place on the outskirts of the rink. Hawks notes warily that a few of the photographers have been given skates of their own. This photo shoot is a fuckin’ lawsuit waiting to happen.

Nevertheless, he starts skating around the rink. The sooner he gets this over with, the better. As usual, he turns on the fucking charm. He chats with the models – all tall and beautiful and glowing as they grin and fake laugh at his jokes for the camera. He winks and flaps his wings flirtily and even skates on one leg just to give them some extra material to work with. The less direction he gets from the art director, the sooner he can leave.

Music starts to blast from the DJ booth – some top 40 pop crap that is most definitely not the 80s New Wave tunes that Hawks requested. Ugh.

They skate around for three full songs before something good finally comes on the playlist – it’s Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter. Now this Hawks can fuck with.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

Hawks starts to skate faster, maneuvering his way around the gyrating models hamming it up for the camera.

You're friendin' me up so we could connect And what are the odds? You sent me a text And now the next thing I know, I'm like Manifest that you're oversized I digress, got me scrollin' like Out of breath, got me goin' like

Damn Hawks is a slut for a good beat. He spreads his arms out wide and as he soars across the roller rink floor, he swears it feels like he’s flying. His red wings puff up behind him and spread wide as he makes a sharp turn. He glides in front of a row of cameras gracefully, grinning toothily at the photographers as he whips around on one foot and starts to skate backwards.

“That’s it, Hawks! Everyone match his pace – try to look carefree!” The art director calls out as he claps, directing the models to loosen up a bit. “Give me a few more laps around the floor and make me believe you’re having fun!”

Ooh (ah) Who's the cute boy with the white jacket And the thick accent? Like Ooh (ah) Maybe it's all in my head But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

Hawks is really getting into a groove now despite the burning exhaustion that’s starting to creep up his thighs. (Note to self – add roller blading to the workout regimen, you’re clearly missing some key muscle areas!). He passes a cute male model – a tall guy with dark hair and a nose piercing who is also wearing an offensively tiny pair of shorts – and winks. The model blinks in surprise, clearly flattered, before he smiles widely back. Hawks strikes up a conversation as they skate side by side, shamelessly flirting with the guy and complimenting his equally skimpy outfit. The guy is kind of funny and definitely cute. With his dark hair and pierced features, he reminds Hawks a little of someone, but he can’t quite put his finger on who…

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things That's bed (bed) chem (chem) How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed Are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good-

“Alright, that’s a wrap! Everyone bring it in.” The music cuts and Hawks glides his way towards the Art Director alongside all of the models. As the music fades and the disco ball lights cruise to a stop, exhaustion begins to sink into all of his muscles.

“Thanks Hawks! Great job, everyone! I think we have what we need.” The art director and the camera people all huddle up to review a few shots and seem quite pleased. Hawks lets his shoulders relax. He looks up at the disco ball sadly, feeling his own sparkle fade along with the music.

“I’m so sorry! So so incredibly sorry! Let me go and check the photo studio again, maybe someone brought them back over to our first location by mistake?” A PA helping out the wardrobe department frantically types into her cell phone as Hawks looks on, exasperated. He’s trying to maintain his usual easygoing public persona, but Christ is it becoming harder by the minute to be nice. The girl hits send and looks up, tired eyes wide with panic. “Have I told you how sorry I am?”

“Hey.” He says, tight smile stretched across his face. He’s exhausted and sweaty and could really use a shower right now. “It’s a-oh-Kay! I know how stressful it is to run these things. Please take your time, I’m sure you’ll find them.”

The girl nods gratefully and sweeps off to find a production van so she can go checkout the photo studio for his clothes.

Yes, you read that right: his clothes. His entire duffle bag of clothing has gone missing. Someone has misplaced his sweatpants, t-shirt, sneakers annnnd his custom made black hoodie with large slits in the back to accommodate his wings.

So to top off an already exhausting day, he’s stuck in his embarrassingly miniscule shorts.

They’ve finished taking the hot lights down, reducing the temperature in the roller rink by about 40 fucking degrees. Cool AC drifts throughout the chasmy space. And that would be a great wonderful amazing goddamn thing if he weren’t wearing a paper-thin tank top. His nipples perk up at the cold air and stand out like sore thumbs in this paper bag of a shirt. He crosses his arms across his chest self consciously. Fuuuuck this goddamn day to all hell.

In the wake of the production team packing up the lighting equipment, Craft Services has set up an impressive spread of food beside the rink. Most of the crew and models are snacking and laughing in the tiny cafeteria off to the left where the rink likely hosts kid’s birthday parties. (Hawks honestly wouldn’t know – he didn’t have any birthday parties as a kid. It just seems like the kinda thing people would do in a goofyass place like this).

The place is so goddamn loud. The crew is chattering and laughing and calling out to one another across the space as they snack and pack up equipment. Someone’s put on background music and it’s the worst type of rap. Craft Services is banging around pots and crockery as they put out new dishes on the food table. All of the layers of sound and noise are far too much for Keigo’s sensitive ears and feathers, and he feels so incredibly over stimulated he doesn’t know what to do. He prays that the PA can find his noise canceling headphones, but he’s low on both patience and hope.

Hawks is grateful to see that everyone is either wrapped up in the little after party or in packing up photo equipment. For once, he goes unnoticed.

He rubs his hands up and down his goosebumped arms a few times and tries to consider his options. The wardrobe department can likely cut wing holes into a shirt and jacket in a pinch. He’s sure they must have something comfy he can wear for his flight home. Or maybe he can pay one of the PAs to run out to a local clothing store with his credit card. The problem with either of these options is that they are going to take time. Hawks really isn’t in the mood to stick around this neon hell much longer.

He takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly to regulate his nervous system. Today is just one of those days when everything is out of his control and he just needs to – ugh he hates this phrase – go with the flow.

Okay, first priority. He needs a quick reset. If he finds the restroom, he can wipe off this damn makeup and splash his face with some water. Do some breathing exercises. Calm down his nervous system.

He awkwardly skate-walks (oh yeah, did I mention that he’s still wearing the goddamn ruby red-Dorthy-There’s-no-place-like-home-fucking-roller skates? Right. Because someone misplaced his Nikes. And to top it all off he can’t walk around in just the high striped socks because someone broke a stage light bulb and no one will let Japan’s Number Two Hero accidentally get a foot full of glass.) across the foam floor towards the men’s restroom.

He pushed open the door to see a few stalls with floor to ceiling doors alongside some urinals lining the lime green walls. All the neon on top of all the noise is making him feel a little woozy with overstimulation.

As he moves to enter the restroom some of his feathers on his wings prickle to life in warning, but he breathes deeply to calm them down. When he’s over stimulated like this his body tends to react to everything as a fight or flight situation. If anyone else is using the restroom right now it could be setting off his feathers, which can pick up on even the smallest of nearby vibrations.

Calm down. He repeats over and over in his mind as he tries to shake his feathers back into place. The only villain here is whatever production assistant misplaced my goddamn pants. Now let’s focus on solutions.

The weather’s not too cold out – maybe he should just hedge his bets and fly home in these stupid little shorts. If he flies high enough, there’s not shot that anyone would see him looking like such a dumbass.

Where the flooring outside was a foamy material that was easy to maneuver on skate wheels, the restroom floor is smooth black linoleum. As the door swings shut behind him he sees a “NO SKATES, SNEAKERS ONLY IN RESTROOMS” sign posted near the doorframe. Damn. He carefully places his steps and grips one of the sinks to minimize his rolling. The skates love the linoleum floor and seem to want nothing more than for him to freeskate his way around the dinky little restroom. Fat chance.

He grips the sink with both hands and stares at the drain for a few moments, breathing deeply in and out as he tries to master himself. The strategic side of his brain scrambles to make an actionable game plan. Something easy that will get him from Point A (this shitty day and this shitty roller rink) to Point B (home).

Alright Keigo. Splash some water on your face. Then make a beeline for that nice makeup lady and ask her to help you find someone form wardrobe to help you out of this mess. It’ll be fine. All you’ll need to do is crank up that Number Two Hero charm.

Alight. Yeah. That’ll work.

Feeling a tiny bit more confident now that he has a plan, Keigo pulls himself up to look at himself in the long counter mirror. His sharp eyes widen in surprise and he almost growls from the back of his throat.

There, in the mirror he can see Dabi standing behind him, leaning against the lime green florescent wall as casual as you please. He’s wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater tucked into loose black canvas pants. His hands rest in his pockets, looking harmless. A toothy grin stretches across his face, his bright teeth contrasting sharply with his mottled, patchwork skin. His bright aqua eyes are narrowed threateningly as if to say “caught ya.”

“Hey birdie.” He says softly. “Miss me?”

“Fuck Dabi. What the hell are you doing here. There are civilians around. I’m at work right now.”

Dabi smirks and mouths ‘at work’ as if it’s a fun little joke between the two of them.

“That your new work uniform?”

Dabi takes a step towards the door, and Keigo tenses.

“Hey, now Hawks. Calm down.” He says easily as he reaches out a hand to click the door’s lock into place. “Just ensuring us some privacy.”

“How’d you even get in here?” Hawks asks, on edge. He’s exasperated – he can’t catch a fucking break today.

“You know the funny thing about sets like this…you just walk around in black and no one bats an eye.” Dabi says smoothly, looking down at Hawks with

Keigo grips the sink as he carefully turns himself around to face Dabi on his roller skates. His wings feel so cramped and hard to maneuver in this tiny space, but he somehow manages. Dabi waits for him to turn around, smirking all the while. This is so fucking embarrassing.

“I have a request for you from the Paranormal Liberation Army.”

“You mean you have another test for me.”

“You’re smarter than you look, pretty boy.” Dabi drawls, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the neon green wall. “The upper brass is not fully convinced you’re loyal to our cause yet.”

“Great. Got it. Just tell me what I gotta do and leave.” Keigo is practically seething.

“Wow, someone’s got their little hero panties in a twist.” Dabi quirks an eyebrow upwards in surprise. “What happened to you today? Usually you’re mister sunshine.”

Dabi’s face is suddenly very close. He lifts a scarred hand towards Keigo’s face as if he wants to touch it, but then thinks the better of it. His arm drops limply to his side.

“…something up?” He asks, his face dropping into a frown. Usually they’ll go back and forth with some infuriating banter. But tonight, Hawks is all teeth and anger. It’s unsettling.

“Just a shit day.” Hawks says through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need from me already and I’ll do it.”

Dabi takes a step back, considering him with more care.

“Nah. I’ll find you later this week and give you the assignment. Your vibes are off right now.”

“Of course my fucking vibes are off. I’m stuck in some godforsaken 80s fever dream wearing a cursed fuckin’ outfit.”

Dabi looks at him appraisingly, eyes lingering on the way Hawks’ slim waist dips into his short shorts. “It’s not so much cursed as it is…slutty.” The observation is more appreciative than mocking.

Keigo’s eyebrows fly up his forehead.

Slutty!?

Usually he’s so careful with how he shows emotion – so diligent about being the perfect little spy for The Hero Commission. But right now he’s tired and over stimulated and Dabi – his mother-fucking enemy – just called him slutty using a tone that makes Keigo want to melt into a puddle of hormones and arousal.

Dabi stares down at him, expression steely and unreadable.

The vibe in the little neon bathroom has shifted, and they both know it.

“Did you just call me…slutty?” Keigo preens a bit, trying to stand up straighter but failing miserably in his slippery skates. He leans back into the porcelain sink to keep from sliding to the ground.

“No I called your outfit slutty, shithead.” Dabi says, jerking his chin up at Hawks. His eyes narrow, a hunter surveying his prey. “Look at those fuckin’ shorts. It’s like you’re begging to be fucked or something.”

“Excuse me?” Keigo can’t believe his ears. His grip on the sink tightens. He can’t decide if he wants to throw a punch at Dabi’s pretty fuckin’ face…or if he wants to…kiss him!?

“You heard me, birdie.” And the guy fuckin’ smiles. He flashes those bright white teeth in a way that makes him look both gorgeous and terrifying.

At this point Hawks is extremely aware of two things:

Thing One: He’s always had a weird thing for Dabi since they first met at the Liberation Army headquarters a few months ago. Dabi is the only one who truly sees right through all of his Commission-trained charm and bravado – the only League member who still doesn’t quite trust Hawks. Hawks loves a good challenge. Relishes it. And Dabi is a challenge in so many delightful ways. And Dabi is hot. He’s so goddamn tall. And he’s just Keigo’s type – covered in piercings and emo accessories and dark and brooding. A perfect balance to the faux sunshine Hawks has been trained to radiate out at all times. Keigo’s never seen the man shirtless, but in the early morning moments between dreaming and waking he’s often imagined what could be laying in wait for him beneath those layers of leather and black clothing. Yes, Hawks is attracted to Dabi. There’s no way around that.

Thing Two: Keigo’s  little shorts are starting to feel…tighter. Keigo is an absolute sucker for teasing and dirty talk. And with all that Dabi’s saying to him right now…well, Keigo is getting hard and there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

And Dabi is noticing.

“All that for me, birdie?” Dabi says, eyeing Hawks’ package appreciatively. “Looks like it was worth my time to come all this way out here after all.

Keigo can’t hide the fierce blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Listen. Let’s drop the PLF shit for a bit.” Dabi says, shrugging his shoulders and holding his palms open, almost as if in surrender. “You know I don’t trust you, and no amount of “assignments” or “missions” are gonna prove your loyalty to me. I know you’re some sort of fuckin’ Hero Commission spy.”  Dabi lifts his hand to his ear so he can play with one of his earrings, twisting the piercing around in his finger. “But I don’t really give a shit about that work stuff right now. It sounds like we both had shit days, and there’s something I wanna do.”

He takes a step towards Hawks, slow and catlike. Hawks is on edge, wary. A base part of him revels in the intense look of Dabi’s bright aqua eyes. With a stab of surprise in his gut, he realizes that the hot, tall, pierced photo model he was rollerskating with had been reminiscent of Dabi.

Oh! That’s who that hot guy reminded me of. Hawks thinks as he tenses for some kind of blow or attack. “Hey, Dabi. You don’t model on the side, do you? I met a guy who looks like you earlier. Real emo and attractive in a weird, pierced sort of way.

Dabi stops in his tracks, inches away from Hawks. “You think I’m attractive in a…” Dabi snorts. “Weird, pierced sort of way?” What little air lies between them crackles with electricity.

“Well…” Oh shit, did he really just say that out loud? Yeah, he’s always thought Dabi is attractive. How could anyone not think that Dabi is attractive? He hadn’t meant to verbalize it, though.

“Shut up. Damn bird.” Dabi closes the gap between them, grabbing Hawks’ chin hard between his thumb and forefinger. Before the wing hero can send out a barrage of sharp feathers his way, Dabi smashes their lips together in an aggressive kiss.

Oh. Holy. Fuck.

Hawks moans into the kiss as their mouths connect again and again and again.

Dabi is a goddamn dream of a kisser. His style consists of hot open-mouthed kisses punctuated by nicks of staples and teeth. His bottom, toasted lip is a bit dry compared to the top one, but it feels good all the same when it slides against Hawks’ own wet mouth. Dabi leans forward and places his free hand on the sink to prop himself up. His arm snakes in between Hawks’ own hand and hip. He uses his other hand to continue to hold Hawks’ face in a vice like grip as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Hawks doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his body so he just focuses on the way that Dabi’s mouth and tongue dance across his own. Dabi licks the bottom of Hawks’ mouth before tugging his lower lip between his teeth. Hawks groans into it, letting Dabi do whatever the hell he wants. It’s delightful and sweet and dirty all at the same time.

When they finally break apart, they’re both breathing heavy. Dabi’s striking blue eyes are half-lidded as he gazes down at Hawks.

“Take off your shirt.” Dabi says in a low, gravely rasp. Hawks doesn’t need telling twice. He uses one hand to keep bracing himself against the sink (the damn roller skates are barely holding up his shaky legs right now), and uses the other to peel the thin tank top off of his quaking body.

“That’s better.” Dabi says, stepping back a bit so he can admire the hero’s chiseled physique. “I figured you were ripped, but holy shit.”

He slides his palm down Hawks’ neck and across the bulging muscles of his chest. “This is insane.” He dips his hand lower to feel the hero’s washboard abs before dipping a finger underneath the waistband of those godforsaken tiny shorts. Hawks hisses at the feeling of hot fingertips so close to the tip of his cock. He’s instantly rock hard and left wanting when Dabi slides his fingers back up and makes sure to snap the waistband of the shorts soundly against Hawks’ stomach.

Dabi must see the desperation in Hawks’ sharp eyes because he whispers: “Patience is a virtue, little hero.” He takes a step back from Hawks and discards his own shirt, pulling the turtleneck up and off of his head. It leaves his black hair looking fluffy and staticky. He then steps back towards the hero and leans his head down so he can kiss his way across Hawks’ jawline. Hawks can barely breathe he’s so turned on right now. Dabi continues to make his way down Hawks’ neck, stopping to suck on his pulse point. The winged hero moans at the feel of Dabi’s lips, rough and soft at the same time.

Dabi takes care to make out with Hawks’ neck for a bit – pressing those hot lips of his over and over to the delicate skin beneath the hero’s jaw and along his shoulder. Hawks could stand like that forever, letting Dabi lavish him with kisses and licks.

Hawks is taken by surprise when the scene escalates, and out of nowhere the villain drops to his knees. Before Hawks even knows what’s happening, Dabi has pulled his tiny shorts and underwear straight down to the ground. His proud cock bounces out, fully erect and standing ready for action against dense golden curls. Dabi takes a moment to admire it, licking his chapped lips as Hawks’ dick stands at attention, a drop of shiny precum clinging to the flushed tip.

“Knew you’d be pretty.” Is all he says before he practically inhales Hawks’ cock.

“Fuck – ah!” Hawks almost falls (well, rolls) over in surprise as Dabi licks the tip of his cock and takes it in his stapled mouth. The contact feels so deliciously good – Dabi’s mouth is warm and hot in all the right ways. It’s been so long since Hawks has had good head, and Dabi is most certainly going to give him good head.

Dabi wastes no time as he hollows out his cheeks and begins bobbing his head on Hawks’ dick. He snakes a hand up to the winged hero’s waist to hold him in place, ruby red roller skates be damned. His other hand makes its way upwards to grip at the meat of Hawks’ left thigh. His fingertips dig into the hard muscle, and somewhere in the back of Hawks’ hormone-addled mind, he knows that there will be bruise marks burned into his skin come morning.

Hawks’s cock feels like its in heaven, and his brain is hazy with lust as he looks down at this fucking god of a villain who’s sucking him off in a neon green roller rink bathroom.

Dabi throws him a brief but smug look with those sharp, turquoise eyes and it causes Hawks’ stomach to squeeze and flip. His heart pounds in his chest and he needs to remind himself to breathe, goddammit when Dabi pulls his mouth off with a loud “pop!” and begins licking up and down Hawks’ shaft.

“Fuck Dabi. Yeah – j-just like that.”

Dabi flutters his tongue across the sharp veins of Hawks’ dick, making his way upwards slowly. When he finally gets to the tip, he swirls his tongue around the sensitive space just beneath the head before sucking the thick member back into his mouth. Hawks sees stars.

Dabi continues on like that for a bit – alternating between licking and sucking and just generally doing magical things with his mouth as Hawks looks on, dumbstruck.

In a spark of inspiration, Dabi reaches up and puts his hands on Hawks’ slim hips, thumbs digging into the divots of muscle that fall into a “V” shape as his waist tapers off. The patchwork villain jerks the blonde’s hips forward slightly, and Hawks glides towards him. Dabi wraps his mouth deeper around Hawks’ cock, pushing and pulling the blonde back and forth across the linoleum floor on those stupid roller skates. He’s sliding in and out of Dabi’s mouth – absolutely face fucking the hell out of him in a languid, controlled sort of way.

It’s sexy.

It’s hot.

It’s far too much.

“Dabi.” Hawks practically sings as the villain picks up his pace, still using the roller skates to his advantage. Hawks can feel his orgasm building like kindling catching into a bonfire. “Dabi.”

“Hmm?” Dabi’s eyes flick up to look at him almost lazily as he continues to suck.

“I’m gonna…Shit that’s good! I’m gonna cum…” Hawks doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, being absolutely manhandled by his enemy. He feels heat prickle across his face as he chases his high in Dabi’s mouth.

The villain acknowledges Hawks by digging his fingers harder into the blonde’s sensitive hips with the intention of bruising. He continues his even pace – pushing and pulling Hawks’ cock in and out of his mouth with practiced skill. God does Dabi love roller skates right now.

“Dabiiii.” Hawks moans out through gritted teeth, feeling the orgasm begin to roll through him. When the dark haired villain doesn’t relent, Hawks figures he’s alright with getting cum in his mouth. He lets go – all of the days stress and exhaustion coming out of him in one golden wave of pleasure. His crimson wings fluff up and fan out behind him in ecstasy. He cums hard into Dabi’s mouth, the orgasm rolling from the base of his cock onto Dabi’s waiting tongue.

Dabi holds Hawks gaze – Blue eyes boring into Hawks’ golden-brown ones. Hawks shudders as he cums, watching Dabi’s hot mouth take everything he’s willing to give. For his part, Dabi is sure to keep sucking in time with Hawks’ orgasm, tasting the hero’s hot salty cum on his tongue. Dabi makes a show of swallowing, letting Hawks see the way that his mouth and throat are working overtime to accommodate the hero’s thick load.

Hawks comes down slowly, his sensitive cock still twitching as it pumps out the last remnants of pleasure. Dabi has brings a hand down from Hawks’ hips and wraps it around the hero’s sensitive base, slowly jerking at him as he comes back to himself. When he’s finally finished, Hawks all but collapses backward into the sink, panting as he desperately tries to catch his breath. Dabi releases the hero from his grasp, leaning back on his heals and wiping his juicy mouth on his sleeve.

He smirks up at the wing hero who’s currently looking fucked out and boneless. “That good?”

“Good enough. Clearly.” Hawks says, rolls his eyes. “Well you’re down there, mind unlacing these fuckin’ things?”

For once, Dabi doesn’t have a biting retort or complaint. He dutifully unties Hawks’ ruby red roller skates and helps him step out of them. Once out of the skates, the tiny shorts drop the remainder of the way down Hawks’ calves and land on the floor in a heap, leaving him in nothing but tall striped socks.

“Ugh note to self: never wear roller skates again. Fuck those are uncomfortable.” Hawks wiggles his toes on the linoleum and bends over to massage his calves and ankles.

“I dunno…I kind of liked them.” Dabi says, rising from the floor. Hawks closes the distance between them and slides his hands up into Dabi’s hair, pulling the villain’s mouth back to his own.

“Fuck.” Hawks says between kisses. “Who would have thought you could give head like that?”

Dabi smirks into each searing kiss, letting Hawks manhandle him desperately. The blonde lets a hand wander down Dabi’s neck and across his back, feeling the taught muscles there. He brings his other hand down to palm at the villain’s pants and is unsurprised to find him rock hard and wanting. Dabi rolls his hips into Hawks’ hand and laughs into his mouth at the contact.

“What you gonna do about that, hero?” He hisses before turning his face to lick up Hawks’ jawline. The blonde shudders at the hot, wet contact.

“Do you have a condom on you?” Hawks asks, breathless as he pulls away from Dabi’s face and blinks up at him, unsteady.

“What do I look like to you, a damn vending machine - ” Hawks claps a hand to Dabi’s mouth, cutting him off. He smirks up at the villain, rolling his eyes almost playfully.

“Alright, blowjob it is!” He pushes Dabi hard in the chest, guiding him to the neon green wall.

“Ugh.” The villain says, looking at the painted concrete wall with disgust. “This place looks like it’s covered in, like, a thousand STDs.”

“It’s called neon, dumbass.” Hawks holds his palm flat against Dabi’s chest, ensuring the dark haired man’s back is flush against the wall. There’s a crackle coming from the ceiling and Hawks glances upwards to see a vent to their left. Huh, they must have just turned on the AC. The chilly, mechanical breeze of air conditioning hits Hawks’ hot skin, cooling the sweat of his back. Goosebumps jump across his skin as he looks down at his naked body, suddenly feeling a bit too exposed.

“Hold that thought.” He makes a gesture for Dabi to stay where he is. The villain watches him, an almost bored expression coloring his eyes as Hawks scoops up his teeny tiny shorts and slips them back on, one leg at a time.

“Aw, the show’s over?” Dabi says flatly. Hawks whirls around to face him.

“Oh no, we’re just getting started.” Hawks tilts his head at Dabi, throwing on his charming camera-ready smile. For a moment, the villain seems frozen, almost speechless. Hawks is a little surprised – he knows his thousand-watt hero smile can have devastating consequences when executed correctly, but he never thought that Dabi would get caught up in it the same way his fans seem to.

Hawks takes a step back towards Dabi, crowding up into his space. He slides his hand up to grip at Dabi’s jaw, forcing him to tilt his head down to fully look Hawks in the face.

“You think I’m pretty, don’t you?” the hero whispers pompously.

Dabi glowers down at him. “Well I wouldn’t suck off just any ugly bastard, now would I? I’m selective.”

Hawks lets go of Dabi’s face and roughly pushes it aside. “That’s not good enough. You want my mouth on your cock? Do better.”

“I don’t need to take this shit from you.”

“Um. Actually, you do. I don’t see any other handsome heroes lining up to top you off.”

Dabi actually smiled at this – his face stretching into a full grin that goes all the way up to his eyes.

“I like it when you’re feisty.” He says, dipping his head to catch Hawks’ mouth in another scorching kiss. The contact leaves Hawks breathless and wanting more. “Of course I think you’re goddamn beautiful. I wouldn’t want you so badly otherwise.” Dabi says, pulling his face away from the hero’s.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Hawks says softly before attacking Dabi’s neck with his mouth. He licks a hot stripe across the other man’s throat, then finds a piece of clean, unblemished skin to bite into. He lets his canines press down on the delicate skin before he sucks the spot into his mouth. A hickey blooms instantly beneath his lips and Dabi groans, delighted at the mix of simultaneous pain and pleasure.

“Do that again.” The villain practically commands, reaching between them to palm at his hard on.

“I dunno, you’ve barely got any skin left that isn’t charred.” Hawks says simply. Not mockingly, just observing. He doesn’t want to unintentionally dole out more damage.

“Fuck if I care. Put your teeth wherever you want.” His hand climbs its way into Hawks’ thick blonde hair, fingers wrapping around the bushy locks. He gathers a few curls at the nape of Hawks’ neck and pulls gently, causing Hawks to moan at the unexpected contact.

“Keep making pretty little noises like that and you’ll make me cum before you even get my cock in you.” Dabi gives another experimental tug and Hawks’ knees nearly buckle he’s swooning hard for this idiot. He takes a deep breath and decides to regain control of the situation, pushing Dabi’s hands out of his hair and dropping to his knees before the emo flame wielder. He reaches out and undoes the button to Dabi’s loose pants before pulling the zipper down as far as it can go.

To be honest, Hawks is having a ton of intrusive thoughts about Dabi’s dick – does his dick have a patchwork of charred flesh with staples holding it together? Does he have it pierced? Is he well endowed? Each of the possibilities is intriguing in its own way, and Hawks is eager to unwrap Dabi like a present on his fucking birthday.

Dabi doesn’t resist as Hawks slips the baggy pants down his slim hips and onto the ground. His legs are long, toned and crisscrossed with staples. The skin is mottled with purple, but less so than his torso. His thighs are surprisingly muscular and thick. Goddamn he’s beautiful. Beneath those baggy pants, he’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxers that leave little to the imagination. Hawks’ eyes widen as his greatest hopes are confirmed – Dabi is fuckin’ packing.

The villain’s dick is outlined beneath the underwear – a hard line leaning left. There’s a small damp spot on the front of the boxers where Dabi’s dick has leaked precum during all of their foreplay. The visual is incredibly hot.

“Why’d ya stop?” Dabi asks in a husky voice, hands on his hips as he stares down at Hawks’ whipped expression. “Intimidated?”

Hawks quirks his mouth up in a small smile. “You wish.”

Dabi barks out a laugh in response, moving his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers and tugging them down in a swift motion. His cock springs to attention, coming up to kiss his abs as it stands fully erect and flush with arousal.

Hawks was wrong – his cock isn’t burned, charred or pierced. But he was right about it being fucking massive. Dabi’s cock is beautiful – long with some weight to it, the tip flushed with excitement. Hawks has had a few steamy rendezvous over the years with other men, but never has he seen a dick this pretty. He practically salivates as he takes it in.

“Like what you see?” Dabi says, stretching his arms up and behind his head as his cock twitches excitedly against his slim but toned stomach.

“Absolutely.” Hawks says, licking his lips slowly as he reaches up to smooth the palm of his hands down Dabis’ perfect hip bones. “How do you hide all of this in those ridiculous leather pants of yours?”

This makes Dabi snort. This may be the first time Hawks has heard has hear d a genuine laugh from the man, and he likes the sound of it. The way he snorts into his laughter is geeky and distinctly uncool. It humanizes him, in a way. Hawks’ smile is so big his cheeks start to get sore. He quickly resets his mouth into a cool, thin line. Careful now. He thinks to himself as he slides his hands down to grasp at Dabi’s firm ass appreciatively. Can’t catch feelings for a villain that you’ll eventually betray.

Hawks is no angel – the Hero Commission has certainly seen to that. But crashing out over Dabi – Dabi the damn top member of the League of Villains – that would be so incredibly morally wrong that Hawks can’t believe his horny brain even bubbled up the idea in the first place. Ok. Refocus. Sex now, guilt and morality check later.

He lets his hands explore the expanse of Dabi’s cheeks. Jeez, he loves Dabi’s ass. It’s firm with a tiny bit of bounce to it. He looks up appreciatively at the rest of Dabi’s body. He’s a bit taken aback and just how skinny the villain is. He knows that up until The League joined up with the Paranormal Liberation Front, Dabi, Shigaraki and the others didn’t have a reliable source for meals. From the intel Hawks had gathered at the PLF HQ, the League members often went hungry, not knowing where their next meals would come from.

Dabi’s physique tells a story of malnourishment. He’s far too slim for his height. His muscles are lean in a wiry sort of way. Even though he’s muscular and has these to-die-for thighs, it’s clear that he’s not in a healthy place. He’s not being cared for. And Hawks knows all about being malnourished and neglected – before the Commission got a hold of him, he recalls being shaky and hungry with weak muscles from malnourishment.

So as Hawks appreciates Dabi’s beautiful body, he can’t help the way that his heart aches for the villain. A tiny voice in his head says, “I could take care of you. I could take you to my favorite restaurants and show you what it’s like to have a full belly and a warm bed. I could feed you and kiss you and fuck you until you fall asleep all safe and happy and emo and we could live happily ever after like some goddamn gay version of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in The Lake House – kissing into the credit scenes.

Hawks blinks in surprise as the affectionate thoughts scroll through his head. All that just from cumming in Dabi’s mouth and then seeing him naked in a neon green roller rink bathroom!? Fuck. Has he been down bad for this emo motherfucker all along!?

Um. Okay wow that was a weirdly visceral pipedream thought. Hawks tries to lock in and clear his mind. There will be plenty of processing later when he’s taking a fresh shower and can be blessedly alone with his thoughts. For now – he has a blowjob to attend to.

He runs his hands slowly down Dabi’s thighs, memorizing the feel of Dabi’s warm skin beneath his fingertips. He looks up at the emo villain with bright golden eyes, and Dabi hits him back with a smoky gaze that could level buildings (probably has, to be honest. Dabi does have a police documented history of arson). His nose piercings glint in the artificial lighting as he turns his head ever so slightly so he can better look at Hawks. The hero runs his fingers lightly up the sensitive skin of Dabi’s inner thighs and the villain bites his lip and inhales sharply. His cock twitches. He’s so fucking horny.

Finally, Hawks puts him out of his misery and slides a hand up to grip Dabi’s cock and oh shit does it feel good in his palm. He runs his hand up and down the shaft, taking care to vary the pressure of his grip as he gets towards the tip. He swipes his thumb across Dabi’s sensitive head, smearing his precum around under his fingers so he can use it as lube. Dabi lets out a slight gasp at the motion, his arms falling to his sides as he continues to watch Hawks work at his thick cock.

Hawks looks down, staring hungrily at the hot member in his hand as he strokes slowly, carefully up and down. He decides to take it nice and slow – they both need this. A break. Softness. He jerks Dabi’s cock slowly, full of care. Almost as if to quietly say this is how it can be with me – sex can be slow. It can be gentle. Hawks wonders if Dabi has ever been handled with care in bed.

“What are you doing?” Dabi groans, looking down at him with a frown. “You’re literally the slowest bitch on the face of the Earth. Just get me off already.”

Hawks pauses and looks back up at the villain with narrowed eyes. “It’s all about the build up. Shut up and enjoy it.”

“I’d enjoy it more if I was cumming all over your face right now, jeez.” Dabi says defensively, but he crosses his arms and shuts the fuck up all the same. He’s looking down at Hawks almost curiously (as curiously as one can look while they’re brooding into a handjob). Hawks grins a little as he starts to jerk Dabi off again, this time going a tiny bit faster until he feels Dabi’s dick respond with an appreciative twitch.

He then leans forward and plants a row of wet kisses up Dabi’s inner thigh as he continues to glide his hand up and down Dabi’s perfect cock. He realizes that he could use a tiny bit more lubrication. He gathers saliva in his mouth and looks up at Dabi to maintain eye contact as he drools like an absolute whore onto the villain’s ready cock.

Dabi blinks in surprise at the explicit visual, and then stares hungrily at Hawks to see what he’ll do next. The winged hero uses his hand to glide his saliva across Dabi’s excited cock and increases his pace a bit – the villain closes his eyes at the contact, clearly seeing stars behind his eyelids as he lets out a tiny breath of pleasure. Good. That’s what Hawks wants.

He leans his mouth forward and starts to suck at Dabi’s balls, sucking one into his mouth as he continues along with the hand job. At this, Dabi lets out a full on groan from the back of his throat. Okay, so he’s a sensitive little bitch. Hawks can work with that.

He sucks for a few more moments on Dabi’s package, letting his jaw go slack so he can pull his mouth away to do more dirty work. He ghosts hot breath along the underside of Dabi’s cock before tonguing at his flushed tip. Dabi seems to think that Hawks is speeding things up like he asked, and he hums appreciatively when he feels Hawks’ wet mouth hover just above his cockhead.

But no – Hawks is just teasing. He goes back down to worshiping Dabi’s thighs with his mouth, lavishing them in kisses as he slows his stroke game on Dabi’s dick. Dabi lets out a growl of frustration, just wanting Hawks to get it quick and dirty and done with.

“Patience.” Hawks says as he finds a particularly sensitive spot on Dabi’s thigh and tongues at it, appreciating the way Dabi’s knees give a twitch at the motion. “Patience.” He places a kiss on the spot. “Is.” Another kiss. “A Virtue.” He swirls his tongue back up towards Dabi’s package.

“Oh fuck you.” Dabi hisses between clenched teeth, arms still crossed against his chest and eyes shut tight. He drops his head back to rest against the smooth neon green wall.

“You could be fucking me right now. If you carried a damn emergency condom.” Hawks teases, using his free hand to caress Dabi’s sensitive balls. They quiver at the delicate attention the hero serves up. Dabi is blessedly speechless for once. Hawks glances up to see that he’s really relishing this, despite his complaints. His eyes are still cramped shut but his eyebrows are knitting against each other and he’s biting his lip hard. He’s doing everything possible to not let Hawks see him enjoying himself.

Hawks slows down his pace even more. He can tell that he’s frustrating Dabi endlessly, and he loves it. Dabi’s mouth has settled into a scowl, but his chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm that hinting to Hawks that he’s getting flustered.

“Hey Dabi.” Hawks says, casual. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself. We can go back to being whatever kind of fucked up enemies when we’re back on the clock. We can pretend this never happened.” He lolls his tongue around the head of Dabi’s cock, eliciting a shiver from the villain, before continuing to kiss up his hipbone. “Let yourself fucking relax a little.”

Dabi cracks open an eye to glare at Hawks, but he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly before dropping his arms to his sides.

“Alright, birdie. Make me enjoy it.” He says, half daring, half resigned. Hawks grins into the skin of his slim belly before planting a kiss beside his navel.

“Just remember – you asked for this.” Hawks says cheekily, kissing down the light “V” shape of the svelte muscles at Dabi’s trim waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get on with - ” Dabi’s words get stuck in his throat as, in a sudden burst of movement, Hawks wrenches one of Dabi’s long legs off the ground and throws it over his shoulder. He flings an arm between Dabi’s legs to brace against the wall, allowing himself to bare most of the villain’s weight. In the same motion, he takes Dabi’s cock in his mouth and starts sucking like his life depends on it (And maybe it does to be honest).

Dabi was clearly not expecting this, because he lets out a moan of surprise that quickly turns into undiluted pleasure at the change in position. His dick fits so snuggly in Hawks’ hot mouth, and the thrill of being handled so harshly yet carefully is turning him on in a way that neither of them could have anticipated. He’s rock hard and ready to cum any moment.

Hawks hollows out his cheeks and bobs his head in a steady rhythm, enjoying the light salty taste of Dabi’s unblemished skin. He periodically swirls his tongue around the head of the villain’s cock, eliciting broken mumbles of praise from the hot villain.

“Y-yeah. Oh shit. Just like that.” Dabi stammers mindlessly, his fingers dropping from his chest to thread their way through Hawks’ thick hair. He pulls gently at the hero’s blonde locks, eliciting a hum of appreciation from Hawks. Mmm that’s hot. The hum sends tiny shockwaves of vibration through Dabi’s cock and he feels his legs start to shake with pleasure. Hawks feels it too. He knows the villain is getting close, and he’s excited to push him over the edge.

Dabi’s eyes flutter open so he can get a visual on the situation. He takes in the way his pale leg is thrown haphazardly over Hawks’ strong, tanned shoulder. Then there’s the way that Hawks is absolutely ravaging him – deep throating his cock in a way that’s both slutty and caring. Hawks is so tuned into Dabi’s pleasure; he’s contorted himself into an uncomfortable position. He’s simultaneously supporting most of Dabi’s weight while sucking him dry. It’s the first time Dabi’s had sex where a partner has focused entirely on his desire. He’s so fucking turned on that he’s shaking.

Hawks slides his mouth off of Dabi’s dick with a pop. He takes a few ragged breaths and then says in a hoarse tone. “I know you’re close. I want to make you cum. I want you to enjoy yourself. Fucking take it from me Dabi.” He takes Dabi’s cock back in his mouth and wrenches his leg upwards, further over the hard muscles of his Pro Hero shoulder.

Dabi’s head hits the neon green bathroom wall with a light “thud.” He’s speechless, blissed out, heaven struck. Hawks seems to know exactly what to say and do to turn him on. He’s always been one for dirty talk – but he’s never truly been on the receiving end of said talking. The way Hawks looks at him and sucks him off and speaks to him so damn directly…well it’s all far too much and he’s certain sex has now officially been ruined forever for him - its likely that only Hawks is capable of fucking him this good.

Hawks sucks rhythmically at Dabi’s dick and does all sorts of fancy things with his tongue that shoot zigzags of pleasure into the villain’s belly. It only takes about 45 seconds of this for him to absolutely shatter. He doesn’t even see the orgasm coming – all of a sudden without warning it hits him like a train. It’s hard, fast and breathtaking. His entire body is a livewire of shaking energy as he feels himself cum, hot waves of sticky fluid splattering the back of the hero’s throat in rapid succession.

Dabi cries out – a mix of surprise and pleasure. The noise that’s ripped from the back of his throat sounds suspiciously like Hawks’ name, but the villain would never own up to that fact. (Besides, what’s said during sex doesn’t really mean anything, right? Right.) If Hawks weren’t holding him up, his knees would be buckling right now because holy fucking shit he feels so deliriously good as Hawks draws the orgasm out of him and swallows cleanly.

And for his part, Hawks is in heaven down beneath the villain, sucking the remnants of Dabi’s high through chapped lips. He absolutely loves giving during sex. Something about the way he can make someone fall apart with only his touch, his mouth, his cock…he supposes it’s a trauma response, wanting to pleasure people for attention and potentially because he wants to feel a bit of control. In his lifetime, he’s had so little control. It’s nice to have a moment of being truly in charge.

But honestly…he sees Dabi as a mirror to himself; someone who’s been neglected and unloved. And for a moment it feels good to give Dabi the things he himself wants. So when Dabi throws his head back and moans out his name in a choked voice, the hero feels incredibly accomplished and – selfishly – fulfilled knowing he’s done his job well.

When Dabi’s cock is spent and limp between Hawks’ lips, he gently slides his mouth off. A thin thread of spit and cum connects his lips to Dabi’s pretty cock as he backs away. It’s sloppy and gross and he can feel Dabi drinking in the hot visual from above. He carefully removes Dabi’s lengthy leg from where it hangs over his shoulder, lowering it back to the ground. He tries to ignore the way that Dabi’s entire body is still quaking.

He decides he can get away with one more kindness before Dabi comes back into his body. He reaches for Dabi’s charcoal boxers where they lay abandoned on the floor, and he holds them out to the villain, helping him pull one shaky leg into the underwear at a time. Dabi doesn’t put up a fight, awkwardly allowing Hawks to help him get back into the comfortable fabric. When the boxers are finally back in place with their elastic waistband low on Dabi’s defined hips, the villain slides down the wall so he can sit on the smooth linoleum floor across from Hawks. He closes his eyes as he leans his head back against the wall and takes a few deep, slow breaths.

Finally, he says two shaky words: “Holy. Shit.”

Hawks laughs genuinely because honestly, he’s thinking the same thing.

“Is sex for you usually that good?” Hawks questions, his tone completely serious as he cocks his head to the side.

Dabi leans his head back on the wall and stares up at the florescent lights. “Never.” He shifts his gaze to take in Hawks’ expression. “You?”

“Nope. I actually don’t usually cum that easily.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Huh.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, neither sure of what to say next.

“I guess…we should get going.” Dabi says, not quite certain of himself. He reaches for his discarded clothes and gets to his feet so he can put them back on. Hawks watches, sad to see that beautiful body be swallowed up by loose black fabric.

“Yeah.” Hawks looks around for his own clothes, and then remembers that all he has available to put on are his tiny see through tank top and the bright ruby roller skates. He groans miserably, walking with resignation towards the teensy top that lays in a sad little heap under the sink. He makes a small noise of dismay – the sink pipe has been dripping water onto the already atrocious shirt. Dabi looks up at the sound.

“Oh. Hold on.” He says quickly. He ducks his head down so the hero can’t see his expression. Hawks notes that he looks almost embarrassed.

Dabi strides away from him on long legs and disappears into one of the bathrooms stalls, kicking out a familiar looking designer duffle bag.

“…is that?” Hawks sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

“Yeah I stole your fucking clothes, big deal.” Dabi shrugs, kicking the extremely high-end duffle across the linoleum floor towards Hawks. “I wanted to see you squirm for a bit when you realized you had to stay in that slutty little outfit.”

“Ugh. Why are you literally the worst. This day has been just awful.” Hawks grabs for the bag, pulling it towards him across the gross linoleum floor.

“I hope it wasn’t all awful.” Dabi says, almost jokingly. He strolls over to the sink so he can adjust his turtleneck collar in the mirror.

Hawks ignores the comment. “I can say with confidence that I will never be wearing roller skates again after today.”

“I dunno. After blowing you on wheels…maybe I have a weird shitty kink for skates now. You’d need to put them on again so I can be sure.” Dabi says, watching Hawks riffle through his bag behind him through the mirror. He runs long fingers through his jet-black locks, refocusing his eyes on himself as he tries to flatten his sex hair.

“Cumming makes you chatty, does it?” Hawks bites back, grinning despite himself. He’s thrilled to see all of his clothes and equipment in the bag where he left them. He makes a mental note to sweep the bag for tracking equipment later before he arrives back home.  He does an initial check – patting his hands along the bottom of the bag and around the zippers.

“Don’t think this changes anything between us.” Dabi says suddenly, almost harshly, as he turns the sink faucet and begins to splash cold water on his pale, aristocratic cheeks.

“How do you mean?” Hawks turns to look at him over his shoulder.

“I know how you hero types work. You probably think now that we’ve fucked we’re in love and you can change me and bring me over to the side of the light.” Dabi chuckles and crosses his arms across his chest. “That is definitely not happening.”

“You are so damn full of yourself.” Hawks snorts, turning back to the bag so he can pull out his precious designer sweatpants. He unfolds the soft, decadent material carefully and rises to his feet so he can pull them on. He discards the slutty photo shoot shorts, tossing them over Dabi’s shoulder and into the garbage can by the sink. He stands naked for a moment, grinning when he sees Dabi’s eyes dance across his body from their reflection in the mirror. He sticks a foot into the pant leg and starts to pull them on. “You’re well beyond saving.”

Dabi grins appreciatively at him through the mirror. “Don’t I know it.”

“And I promise not to fall in love with your sorry ass.” Hawks pulls on his soft expensive t-shirt. He doesn’t miss the way that Dabi’s eyes drink in one last glance at his abs and chest as he pulls the fabric down over his stomach. “But maybe…”

“Hm?”

Hawks feels his cheeks burn red with heat as he adjusts his shirt to fit more comfortably around his wings.

“Maybe we can call a temporary truce whenever we want to…hook up.” He coughs out the last words.

“Bold of you to assume I’d sleep with you again.” Dabi sneers, but his mouth is tilted up in the tiniest of grins.

“I’m sorry…” Hawks says boldly as he fishes his specialty headphones out of the duffle and hangs them around his neck. “…Did I not just give you the best head of your life? I assumed you’d want a follow up. Or better yet…” Hawks grabs his socks and sneakers and starts pulling them on as he avoids Dabi’s gaze. “I bet you’d jump at the chance to feel my cock inside you.”

“And just what makes you think I’d let you top me?” Dabi spits out, sounding insulted.

Hawks shrugs indifferently. “I’ll bottom. I don’t particularly care when it comes to things like that. Either way, I’m a great lay. Ha! That rhymed.” Hawks says, finally fully clothed. Admittedly, the orgasm was a good full system reset. He feels loose and relaxed for the first time all day. He rolls out his shoulders and stretches, letting his shirt creep up his toned stomach to give Dabi once last thing to look at.

“I bet we’d have really good bed chem.” Hawks says with a cheeky wink, catching Dabi’s bright aqua eyes.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dabi narrows his eyes in a glare, thinking Hawks is making fun of him somehow.

“Its, uh, a song by Sabrina Carpenter.” Hawks rattles off. He didn’t realize that Dabi was so out of touch with pop culture, but given that the villain has been on the run for the better part of the last few years it kind of makes sense that he wouldn’t be up to date on the latest in pop music. “It means we’d have good chemistry in bed.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Jesus Christ you’re annoying.” Dabi rolls his eyes and grabs a paper towel to wipe off his damp face and arms.

“Listen, ya big baby. What I’m saying is that I’d be up for sleeping together again. Don’t think too much into it.” Hawks rolls his eyes and pulls his hoodie out of his bag before zipping the duffle closed.

“Huh. Alright. Maybe.” Dabi says noncommittally. “I’ll be at PLF HQ next week. If I see you there…well we can figure it out then.”  Without even a backward glance at the now fully clothed Hawks, he turns to unlock the door and leave.

“Dabi – hold on.” Hawks grabs him by the wrist and yanks him backwards and away from the door.

“What.” Dabi looks pissed for some reason, but he turns around just in time for Hawks to plant a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on his lips. It’s quick and kind of gross, but it’s also warm.

“That’s it. See you on the flip side, villain.” Hawks turns on his heel and goes to gather up his bag and the ridiculous ruby red roller skates. Dabi can’t help but stare at the hero’s plump ass as he bends over to collect the skates. He quickly gets ahold of himself and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He slowly opens the bathroom door and disappears into the crowded roller rink set.

Hawks takes a minute to gather his things and ­finally splash some cold water on his face. His body is buzzing and electric, but in a nice way this time. He’s wearing shoes without wheels. He’s got his plush, comfy clothes on. His headphones are in place should he need them. …And then there’s the fact that he just had the hottest sex of his life with a fucking villain in a neon green roller rink rest room.

After a few minutes of preening at his hair and outfit, he emerges from the bathroom and out into the chaos of the post-photo shoot set. Less time has passed than he realized – the crew is still cleaning up, many of them taking a snack break at the craft services table.

The art director’s assistant waves to him as he exits the small bathroom.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The costuming department doesn’t have your stuff so we’re going to lend – oh! You found your clothes.” She looks relieved. The PA Hawks had sent off earlier in search of his duffle is nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, I guess I just misplaced it in the bathroom while getting ready! Silly me!” Hawks plays off, turning up his beloved hero charm. “But I wasn’t sure where to put these.” He holds up the pair of shiny red skates with one hand. “Can you get them back to wardrobe for me?”

“Oh! The art director said you can keep them – they’re a gift.” The assistant says, smiling warmly.

“Oh, thanks.” Hawks glances down at the skates unhappily.

“We’re done for the day – you’re good to leave! But we’d love for you to stay for the crew after party.” The woman looks up at him through her lashes, blushing as she implores him to stay.

“Aw, thanks I’d really love to – but I’ve got an early morning patrol.” Hawks says apologetically, covering his mouth a bit with his hand as he lies through his teeth. “Thanks for everything, though. Really. Excited to see the final photos!” And with that he turns on his heel and boogies his way out of the roller rink. He waves gratefully to the models and crewmembers as he speed walks towards the exit. As he goes, he unzips his bag and tosses the offensive skates inside.

The minute his feet hit the pavement outside, he propels himself high into the air. His wings unfurl and relief flows through him as he takes in the feeling of being free in the wide, endless sky. He breathes in deeply, reveling in the expansive silence. He wings his way towards home, his mind lingering on thoughts of Dabi – his hands, his body, and his mouth.

He ditches his designer bag in a trashcan a few blocks away from his apartment (yes, Dabi did in fact have it bugged with a tiny tracker). He enters his loft apartment carrying nothing but his keys the bright red skates. He discards both in the entryway, tucking in his wings and shedding his clothes as he makes a beeline for his luxurious shower.

Minutes later he’s finally, blissfully, standing beneath a hot stream of water. He closes his eyes and sighs gratefully as he lathers his wings up with expensive oil, and his thoughts wander back to Dabi.

Where is Dabi sleeping tonight? Is it warm enough? Is he taking a nice, long shower after the days events? Has he been fed? Does he have a soft bed and change of clothes waiting for him at the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters?

These thoughts linger with him as he towels off, chomps away at a TV dinner, and eventually tucks himself into bed. He sprawls out across the king sized mattress, his wings splayed out comfortably behind him as he stares up at the ceiling. For the first time he notices how empty the bed feels with just him in it. Alone with his thoughts, he dares to let his mind wander. He wonders if Dabi would like sharing a bed? Would he find it comfortable to be folded up into the warm plush blankets, maybe with one of Hawks’ wings draped over him like a quilt? Would he pretend to hate the closeness, but allow himself to be cuddled anyway? Would he let Hawks kiss him slow and deep until they fell asleep?

He shuts off his light and stares up into the darkness, wondering. Maybe even wishing a little.

“I bet we’d have good bed chem.” He mutters to himself, a small smile pulling at his lips as his brain supplies Dabi’s likely response – an eye roll accompanied with a gravely “You’re an idiot.”

Yeah, he really is, isn’t he?

Hawks folds away his dreaming, aching heart and wills himself to go to sleep. There’s work to be done with the Commission. Plans to be carried out. In a world on the brink of quirk-fueled civil war, there’s no room for romance with a villain. And so, there’s no room for Dabi.

His eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. He falls into a deep, comfortable sleep. But his dreams are permeated with flashes of a patchwork face, bright aqua eyes, a brilliant toothy smile, and an arrogant laugh.

You can’t help the things your heart longs for.

End.

-------------

OMG!!! Let me know what you think! I've been wanting to write a full DabiHawks fic forever! I hope you all enjoyed!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

P.S. Want to read more of my smutty fluffy fics!? Here's the link to 🔥My Masterlist.🔥

Stay safe out there, y'all!

[spiritofrainbursts]

Back from the Shadow Realm ( A Long Awaited Update)

- Designs not yet finalized -

- Update below the cut -

Good evening to one and all!! Welcome to the first ever Fur & Fun Friday! So in case it weren't already apparent my account recently got banished to the shadow realm as of a result of handing out invites for a Secret Santa I've been helping @head---ache out with ever since offering to help run the project back in December and wound up deactivating as a result because I didn't feel like dealing with Tumblr staff and felt it would be easier to start from scratch again so I could kick off the new page with a long awaited update regarding the future of my work. Hopefully this doesn't happen again so I don't have worry about my content gaining zero traction nor go through the hassle of creating a new account for the up tenth time, ah anxiety ye heartless bitch, but if it does then I'll be sure to get off me ass and bug the help desk next time around.

With that being said the short of it is that ya'll probably won't be seeing any art from me for awhile starting Pride Month at the very latest depending on whether or not I can get some smaller projects such as updating my Dragon, Sonic, and never before seen Poke sona's designs done and out of the way before then. Why? Well for whatever reason, whether it be the insomnia that has plagued me since senior year of highschool or the mental health issues I've unfortunately have had to deal with over the years as a result of unwanted drama, some of which was admittedly on me and too anyone who may have been caught in the crossfire at the time it all happened truly from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry if I said or did anything to hurt you and hope that wherever you are that you're living your best life regardless of whether or not you decide to forgive me for my past actions or not and hey even if you don't than that's ok too, it's no skin off my back, or even certain events from past that have come back to haunt me with a vengeance over the years, something I've only recently come to terms with thanks some personal growth on my end that has allowed me to feel the happiest I've felt in awhile even if I don't have a lot going for me right now, for the past few years now I've had some kind of weird creative burn out that has made it difficult for me to sit down and draw as much as I used to which in turn has caused a severe decline in content on my end. As a result as soon as I complete my previously forementioned projects I shall here by be going on an indefinite hiatus so I may use the time to create a content buffer and get back in the swing of things. Once I do I'll be sure to set up a new side blog to share my work on a semi regular basis again and hopefully when I do I can start bringing in some income in the form of merch as well as potential adopts so if you'd be interested in receiving some prints and/or characters from me then be sure to be on look out for that as well as a couple of secret projects I'm hoping to start production for in the coming months hue hue 😉 Until then however you can at the very least expect to start seeing some written martial from me throughout the course of this year starting with my contribution for Kat's Secret Santa event come Valentines Day so be sure to keep an eye on my Rainburst Studios tag in the near future and be sure to follow me on my new A03 for updates! (Just a heads up that I'll be changing my user back to Spiritofrainbursts on there come Wednesday as I changed my mind last minute lol Also I lied you'll technically be seeing a fic from me before Valentines Day even if it's a reupload of an older one shot I never got a chance to finish, and never will or at least as is, for archival purposes.)

Welp that's all from me folks so if you have any questions feel free to send them my way via the inbox otherwise 🎶 SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT 🎶 cause this girl needs some 🎶 SLEEEPP 🎶 (Yes that was an MCR joke. Deal with it cause I've gotten deep into their music as of late and intend to start making a crap ton of jokes based off their songs alongside some other rockbands and/or rock music I enjoy such as Crush 40 or Carry on my Wayward Son by Kansas.)

[llitchilitchi]

blog update? vent? what I wanna do going forward? this is long and ranty

I am not going anywhere, please remain calm :)

so this has been on my mind for the better part of a year now, if not longer. I don't think it's a secret or a shock to anyone that I am barely engaging in mcyt-related fandoms, even more so when it comes to creators. the community has for a large part transformed into something that I don't want to necessarily be a part of.

I am saddened at what has become of the CCs that I liked and found comfort in back during lockdown. I don't want to delve into any of the things that have happened over the last few weeks, much less months and years - I made it a rule for myself to not keep up with "drama" (I genuinely hate the word. a lot of it is pointless bickering and people being stupid and vile over small things that could have been solved privately, or people attacking others for no reason, and those that do not fit under the "people are stupid" umbrella are matters far too serious to be labelled as drama or discourse) and I try to not comment on it much. I can't help the two posts from time to time but the truth is, seeing discourse on my dash for days on end is wearing me down. and it often feels like that is all there is going on anymore.

as of, this is not me denouncing my love for dream and the dream team, or their friends and supporters, much less the fan community around them. there are many kind people who I cherish and I am grateful that they welcomed me in and shared my art and talked to me about it. these comments and conversations mean more to me than you could ever imagine. I've forged friendships here that I never could have dreamed of. I've never felt so comfortable in a fandom before and I don't think I will ever fully leave it behind.

that being said, I also doubt that I will be posting too much about anything mcyt-related. I haven't really been doing anything for the fandom anyways, not really. I enjoy the fan projects, and I am very grateful that I managed to get on the c!Dream zine as an artist, and I am looking forward to sharing that piece with you guys! it's one of my favourites that I've ever done, so look forward to that, and go support the project if you can! but to post only when it's related to projects feels a little insincere.

I am mostly writing this because there were a couple more projects that popped up, and I hesitate to join. not only because my involvement with the fandom is miniscule, but also because I feel a little worn and tired and gross about everything that has gone down. and I dread that by the time I get to actually work on a piece, the exhaustion and resignation will turn into distaste and unwillingness to do anything.

I still want to support artists and writers in the fandom. I will continue reblogging stuff, maybe even post some of my own (I have been itching to do a small illustration for monarchy again, but I've been incredibly busy, so don't get excited), but for the most part I think I'll be slowly turning towards other fandoms and original content. oh yeah, I there are OCs incoming.

I miss this fandom, and the community, and every good thing that came with it, but it does not feel sincere to keep engaging too much. I will likely stick to DSMP for the most part, if I will stay in the fandom at all. the real people around it just make me sad.

I don't have a conclusion to offer. no tl;dr. I wanted to get this off my chest. my feelings about everything going on are complicated at best. there's a yearning to come back and a revulsion at what many of the CCs are doing that keeps me away. a yearning for the excitement and love I felt once. maybe it'll come back. for now I just want things to calm down and if that isn't possible here, I will be minding my own business. so if you see me posting about Things at Inappropriate Times, do know that I simply do not wish to engage in the bad anymore.

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part three

art by the insanely talented @stainedlilac!

author’s note: sorry for the delay but i've been tinkering with this for a few months! i get married in a week so this is my wedding gift to you all. it's here and he's stoney-baloneyed and hot and bad and our poor reader is falling right into his trap. we got some defiling of a scarf this chapter. it's about 4.1k words. part one here, part two here. ao3 linky.

“She’s not even listening!”

Your eyes blink into focus on Catherine who is laughing. You groan and lovingly give her a dirty look.

“It’s Friday, let me zone out if I want to.” You slouch in your seat and twirl your glass in your hands. What had they been talking about? You try to remember but they are right — you absolutely have not been listening and you do feel bad about it. It’s been harder to make plans ever since you started your new job, despite the normal hours. Most nights you come home exhausted but also strangely excited for the next day to start. This is the first time you’ve seen your friends since and you should at least try to pay attention. 

“Okay, okay I guess zoning out is okay. I guess you can’t do too much of that at your new job?” Erica chimes in and leans over the table closer to you. “I feel like whenever we didn’t have calls we would always have these zone out staring contests.” 

“Oh my gosh, yes. And then we would realize that we’ve been staring at each other for a weird amount of time.” You give a soft laugh. You do miss working with Erica but you don’t miss the job. Catherine starts to chime in about how she barely has any time to zone out as a teacher and your mind starts to drift again, having heard this kind of talk from her so many times before. 

You think about what happened today. There have been situations over the last few weeks that made you ache in ways you know you shouldn’t for your boss but today might have been the most intense one yet.

You can’t stop thinking about it. 

***

You walk into the den and immediately smell the strong aroma of marijuana which means that you are getting goofy Terzo. There is still some hesitation in your steps, not wanting to bother him especially since from what you can see he is in the middle of watching something. You take a few moments to scan over the den. In the corner of the room is a wooden bar with a fancy cabinet behind it filled with fancy liquors and crystal glasses. You’re surprised by how stylish this room is compared to the rest but then again, the lights are off. 

Terzo is snuggled up on the couch in a t-shirt and shorts, his body draped across the couch entwined in a blanket. Your gaze drifts to the television and you gasp, giving up your position in the room. Terzo’s eyes immediately find you and he gives you a sleepy, sideways grin. His makeup is smudged which is common but it looks particularly messed up around his eyes. He’s been wanting you to come in here to see him, his mind wandering from the television every so often to think what would happen if you did — and now you’re here. 

“Ah, toppolino! Come, have a seat.” He slinks into the corner of the couch, offering you the space next to him as he gives it a few pat, heavy-lidded eyes giving you a flirty look. You swallow thickly, hesitating for what feels like an eternity before you relent, your feet feeling heavy as you walk over to the couch. You take a seat where he gestured and he’s quick to offer you the half-lit joint between his fingers, his shoulder leaning against yours as he quirks a brow. A breath catches in your throat — you’ve worked for him for weeks now and he always offered but something always held you back from accepting. 

Not today. 

You take a deep, long drag as he holds the lighter to the joint, his eyes never leaving your face. It burns but you don’t cough, perhaps trying a bit too hard not to. Terzo is so pleased, his smile only widening as he watches you inhale and exhale the weed. He feels a rush from you finally giving into this temptation, having tried to lure you in since you started. You don’t know that he’s been eagerly awaiting you to accept because he saw it as another step closer to doing what he wants with you. He’s slowly trying to wear away at your boundaries, especially after your reaction to him raising his voice to you. Terzo knew he could get you to play along. 

You feel him relax next to you, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder as he turns his attention back to the television. Your eyes stay trained on the floor for a long moment, caught off guard by him. A blush rises to your cheeks. You choose not to think too hard about it and end up being your gaze up to focus on the footage playing. 

“I didn’t think you were in an acoustic band.” You say after a long moment of silence, becoming distracted by the video. It’s of him, dressed in the clothes you’ve grown so used to seeing in photos, performing to a small crowd of people, flanked by two men in masks. Terzo laughs, deep and full, and it makes you smile. He doesn’t laugh like that often. 

“I am a man of many talents, puffetta. This was to give the public a little taste of myself and the new album. We did a handful of these acoustic shows.” He picks up some blanket and smoothes it over your lap, heat rising through your chest up to your cheeks as his hand lingers in your lap for a moment. He notices. He always notices. Fingers lightly drift up the top of your thigh before he gently takes your hand in his. Your breath catches in your throat. Terzo’s touch is so soft, his hands feeling like butter as he places your own in his lap.

“You have a very nice singing voice.” Your voice comes out quiet like a house, almost shy about complimenting him on his talents. But in truth, it draws you in like a siren song. The way he moves his body, using his hands to accentuate the lyrics, and the deep eye contact with the camera and those in the crowd, is all but an act of seduction. You almost catch yourself swooning at the way he croons before remembering that he is sitting right beside you on the couch, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand that’s currently in his lap. The weed is hitting and you find yourself staring at the way his thumb moves, the way it feels against your skin, your eyes hazy and your cheeks starting to burn.  

“Grazie a mile. I see you like my dance moves too, eh?” He nudges you playfully and you giggle. Giggle! The weed is hitting. You are comfortable next to him, eyes hazy as your attention shifts from him to the videos and then back to him every so often. The more you look at him the more you notice how the brightness of his face starts to fade until his lips are pressed into a straight line. Maybe it’s difficult for him to watch this, his glory days, which seem to be such a thing of the past for some reason. 

“Have you thought about getting the band back together? Or doing some solo shows or something? You look like you belong on the stage.” 

“It doesn’t work like that, toppolino. My time was up and that was that.” He gives a sigh, shaking his head. There’s genuine sadness in his voice. You don’t understand how it could be so difficult for him to perform again but you choose not to pry. If he wants to talk about it, he would and his short response tells you all that you need to know. Silence passes between the two of you and Terzo lets go of your hand only to curl both of his arms around your waist. You rest your own hands on your stomach and he places his own on top of yours, fingers stroking gently at your wrists. It’s like he knows every way to take your breath away.

Terzo slips his shoulder behind your back, his chest pressing against you and he rests his head on your own shoulder. The two of you continue watching in comfortable silence, his wonderful singing voice filling your ears, his quips and jokes making you giggle. You feel moved by his former self and you feel… bad for him. You never had before but now, seeing how much he thrived in front of a crowd, how at ease he was and how their energy fed him compared to him living completely alone in a giant house makes your heart feel heavy in your chest. It doesn’t last too long, though, his deft touch and the way his exhales tickle your neck clouding your mind along with the weed.

Even with the slightly uncomfortable topic of conversation, Terzo is buzzing. It is taking all of his self control not to pull you into his lap and slip his hands between your legs, to feel if you are as aroused as he is right now. He wants to taste you. He wants to make you whine, to make tears stream down your face from how good he makes you feel, to hear his name dangling off your lips while you are completely at his mercy. Terzo grits his teeth as he holds himself back, trying to revel in the moment without pushing too far.

You start to feel hot. Tension building inside of you that is making it hard to focus on the video. You become all too aware of the way you’re breathing, chest rising and falling with each deep intake of air. Your head starts to feel heavy and you lean back, further pressing your back against Terzo’s chest. He makes a quiet, surprised groan, his hands squeezing your wrists tighter. Your cheeks flush and you feel a familiar throb between your thighs, shifting your body to try and stifle it but it just makes you press even further into him. It feels like something is about to snap inside, a bad decision about to happen even though it’s all you want right now until —

ZAP! 

You swear you see a flash of green and then there’s a sharp pain on one of your wrists. A surprised yelp spills out of you and you quickly snatch your hand from his grip. Terzo moves impossibly fast, somehow already on his knees in front of you, your delicate wrist already in his hand. 

“Oh no, have I hurt you?” He sounds sick with worry, his fingers lightly brushing over the spot.

“Just a shock. It’s all—“

“Non muoverti, prendo del ghiaccio.” Terzo murmurs and climbs quickly to his feet, leaving you alone in the room as videos of him play on the tv. You have no idea what he said. You run the pad of your thumb lightly over your wrist, reaching the mark only for it to sting from your touch. He’s back and on his knees before you again, already having your wrist in hand as he presses an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel to it. His sleepy, black locks fall into his face as he looks up at you. You watch as he stays focused on you and your reactions while he knits his brows, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Care is written all over his face.

It makes you feel wanted. 

“I am so sorry, toppolino.” His voice cracks as his eyes drop down to your wrist. He wants to kiss it better so badly. How could he have done that to you? What even was that? Terzo’s mind flickers back to how you felt against him, how warm you were in his arms. He feels a pang of anger for having that moment ripped from him. You reach out and lightly tousle his hair.

“Don’t worry.” You smile shyly and pull the ice cube from his hand so that you can hold it yourself. “I should check how the landscaper is doing.” You almost feel guilty for leaving him but you’re a teensy bit too high to handle the intensity that is radiating off of him. Terzo nods slowly but he still stays kneeling in front of you as you stand. The look in his eyes sends shivers down your spine. You reach out and ruffle his hair as another reassurance but you can’t help but get caught up feeling how soft it is beneath your fingers before leaving the room. 

Terzo stays on his knees and presses his face against the cushion of the couch after you’ve gone. Your scent lingers on the blanket. He groans quietly and digs his hands into it, bringing it up to his face. He was so close. So close. Terzo could almost taste you.

How much longer could he wait?

***

“New job is taking up a lot of your time, huh?” Erica asks as you eye your drink, contemplating if you should have another. There’s judgment in her voice but you ignore it, chalking it up to her being maybe a little bit jealous that you’ve escaped the call center. 

“Oh, definitely. He’s kind of a mess.” You smile and end up sliding your drink to the center of the table, deciding you’re finished for the night. It is Friday but you still have to drive home and you’re not trying to stay out for longer than you have to. “Rich, though. And also loves weed.”

“He sounds perfect. Maybe you found yourself a sugar daddy.” Catherine speaks up and you find your cheeks flushing red. It’s not the first time you’ve thought of Terzo as daddy. 

“He’s already paying me a lot.” You give a shrug, attempting to push the thought of how he had yelled at you, his anger making your core ache for him in a way you’ve never felt before. “But maybe — I might be open to it.” They both giggle. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about what he might be doing now. 

Terzo clocked the scarf you removed from your neck that morning. It’s a deep red with a black floral design and a silky texture. You left it on the entryway table and when you left for the day you didn’t notice that it was gone. In fact, you completely forgot all about it. Terzo had grabbed it and slipped it into his pocket before scurrying up the stairs to hide it away in his bedroom. Now, he is laying in bed with it in his hands, feeling the soft satin against his fingers. Maybe he would keep it forever, hidden away in a drawer in his room for him to use when he is missing you. Maybe he’d start a collection of your things.

He hums quietly, tilting his head back against one of his pillows as he brings the scarf to his face. Terzo takes a deep inhale, breathing in your scent and then giving a rumbling moan. He was so close to having you today. He could see it in your eyes how badly you wanted him and then he ruined it. Terzo pulls the scarf from his face, dragging it down his chest before settling it against his shorts. His cock is already bulging and throbbing underneath the fabric just from your scent and reminiscing about earlier in the day. He is certain that the seed is planted, all it needs to do now is take root and grow.

But it would have been so easy to take you today. He could have moved his hand closer and closer to that spot between your legs, lightly drifting his fingers along the seams until you couldn’t take it anymore, begging for him to go just a bit further. You would have spread your legs wide from him as his hand slipped down your pants, toying with the waistband of your panties. 

“Fuck.” Terzo’s hips jerk from the scene he has come up with in his mind, pressing your scarf more firmly against his bulge. His thoughts are a blur now, jumping ahead in his little fantasy to think about how your tight little cunt might feel around his pulsing cock. Terzo would keep you in his lap, hands firm on your hips as he pushes in as deep as he possibly could. He imagines what you might sound like, soft little sounds spilling from your lips while you take him. And then, he would stay still and make you squirm, make you beg for him to move his hips, to take you and –

A growl catches in his throat as he makes a mess in his shorts, his hips stuttering and his free hand fisting into the covers. Terzo could never finish out his fantasies of you, always reaching the point of no return before any real action could be thought up. His chest rises and falls, giving strangled breaths as he closes his eyes. How long would he last when he finally fucks you? His lips curl into a small smile at the thought – even if he cums early he would make sure to play with you until you're a whimpering mess. He sits up in bed and lifts the scarf to examine the damage: if there are any cum stains on it. None that he could see. He hums in satisfaction, dropping the scarf back in his lap but his gaze stays fixed on it.

An idea crosses his mind. 

You’re about to ask for the check when your phone lights up. A frown crosses your face as you focus on the message preview.

You left your scarf. Come get it. Now.

“What is it?” The concern in Erica’s voice snaps you out of your trance. The color has drained from your face, anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach from his tone. You left your scarf and Terzo sounds pissed about it. Is he in one of his moods? He has hardly ever texted you nor has he asked you to come by after hours before. You suck in a deep breath and grab your phone, slipping it into your coat pocket.

“Duty calls.” You offer a weak smile, your heart pounding in your ears. “Everything’s fine. Uh, just shoot me a venmo request for what I owe for dinner, alright?” Before they get a chance to respond you’re walking away from the table, brisk steps as your breathing starts to speed up. You can’t help but feel like you’re in trouble even though you don’t know how leaving a scarf could be a punishable offense. Your brain typically jumps to the worst possible conclusion, especially when your boss is the one aggressively texting you at 7:30pm on a Friday evening.

“Hey! Wait!” Catherine is chasing after you, nearly out of breath. You blink and realize you’re already at your car door, your feet having taken you where you needed to go while your mind raced. 

“I said you could shoot me a Venmo request—“

“No, no, this isn’t about that. I promised my brother I would ask you-“

“Dylan?” 

“Y-yeah, he’s been asking about you. A lot. He wanted me to ask if you were interested in getting dinner with him sometime.” Catherine is nearly out of breath as she rattles the question off to you. To say you are frazzled is an understatement. You’ve had a crush on Dylan since you were a kid and even though so much time has passed since then, the two of you having grown up, you still had a soft spot for him. You wish you could take a moment to fully comprehend the fact that your childhood crush is asking you out for dinner (through his sister, which isn’t the best but can’t win ‘em all) but the gnawing stress of Terzo’s text overrides everything. 

“Sure, yeah!” You are frantic, quickly getting into your car and then shouting through your window that is not rolled down. “Give him my number or whatever!”

And you’re driving away. There is no way you can think about anything right now, your thoughts running together in strings that make no sense. But there’s no way Terzo could be mad at you because you haven’t done anything wrong. Your feet slam on the breaks, throwing your car into park and opening your door in one swift movement. The rambling thoughts that had been clouding your brain disappear once you see him standing on his porch, waiting for you. You suck in a deep breath and hold it for a moment before getting out of the car, forcing yourself to mellow out. The last thing you want to do is march up there guns blazing. 

He is absolutely delighted. You came when he texted, sparing no time and not even giving him a heads up you were on your way over. He must have weaseled his way deep into your head and it makes groan to himself, eyeing you in your car. Terzo wonders what else he could ask of you. 

“Buonasera, toppolino! You did not answer my text.” Terzo waves to you, the scarf dangling off of his fingers. He doesn’t sound angry whatsoever which is baffling to you. You end up standing right in front of the porch steps and he is towering over you on the top step, his shoulders broad in his smoking jacket. Terzo’s face is blank but there is a spark of mischief in his eyes as he starts to twirl the scarf in front of you. “Is this a gift you left me, eh?” He’s wearing his smoking jacket again but with a dress shirt underneath that is tastefully unbuttoned to expose his dark chest hair. You’ve seen it plenty of times before — he had a knack for being shirtless in front of you but this felt far more enticing, like he had framed his chest just for you.

“I forgot it! I don't even remember wearing a scarf this morning.” You cross your arms, eyes narrowing at him. Still a goof it seems. “Was it really important to have me pick it up now? Was my scarf bothering you?” You’re teasing but there is an edge to your voice because how could you not be annoyed at the situation? He worked you up for no reason. You left dinner with friends for this. Terzo’s lips twitch into a grin and he tilts his head, eyeing you suggestively. 

“Scusi? I am being a gentleman, puffetta.” He dramatically walks down the stairs until he is on the last step, still towering above you as he brings the scarf up to your neck. Your breath catches when his fingertips brush along your neck, looping the scarf around your neck and making sure to touch your tender skin more than is necessary. “I don’t want that pretty little neck of yours to get chilly.” You forget why you were frustrated with him in the first place as he touches you, your lips quivering and your skin burning from the sensation. Terzo is so handsome in this light, the dark paints around his eyes making his mismatched irises glow. He cups your jaw and tilts your head back, looking over his work of tying your scarf firmly around your neck, thumb lightly grazing along your cheek.

You look delicious to him with your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded. Terzo could easily take it too far, he thinks about gripping your neck and squeezing just to see what would happen but baby steps. You would be begging for him to touch you sooner or later. His thumb swipes at the corner of your lips before pulling his hand away from you and taking a step back up another stair, miraculously not tripping over his own feet. The two of you stand still and stare at each other before finally you adjust the scarf around your neck that he tied just a tad too.

“What does puffetta mean?” You break the silence. Terzo’s brows shoot up as he tucks his hands into his jacket pockets, giving a small shrug.

“Smurfette.”

“Smurfette?!” That has never been one of your guesses. 

“A term of endearment, puffetta.” He watches you flounder deliciously. “I’ll see you Monday morning.” Terzo winks and turns on heel, walking inside his quiet mansion and turning off the porch light to leave you in darkness. 

The nerve of him. The absolute gall to have you show up here only for him to dismiss you so quickly. You breathe heavy, realizing that your legs are wobbling from the way he had touched you. 

You want more.

[viesanterieures]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

summary: The reader works as an artist who has never had a breakthrough until she decides to paint Robert.

warnings: this is a kinda cute and funny story so… no warnings :)

word count: 2500+

Masterlist

The air was warm as Robert turned into the familiar driveway. It was late October in Sydney, summer was just around the corner and the driveway was full of flowers and other plants. Today was Sunday, one of the few days he had to himself and his friends. During the week, he worked from early morning until late at night, as befits the future CEO of a multi-million dollar empire. Before he had even rung the bell, the door opened and a woman with shoulder-length brown hair pulled him into her arms. "Robert, how nice of you to come. We haven't seen each other in at least two months."

He laughed a little and patted his best friend on the shoulder. "I've had a lot on my mind, I'm sorry, Rebecca." Robert had known her since they were children. They had gone to kindergarten together and Rebecca was two years younger than him. All the friendships of his childhood, youth and university days had not lasted because many people thought he was arrogant, but Rebecca had always been there for him. As a child, as a teenager, as a student, at his wedding... and also at his divorce three years ago.

"How is your father, Robbie?" she wanted to know. Suddenly the smile on his face faded. "It doesn't look so good. He'll probably have to go back into hospital next month for a surgery." Rebecca looked at him compassionately and nodded silently as she took his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

I'm glad I can at least visit you," he quickly changed the subject.

"I'm glad too, Robbie," she said with a bright smile again.

"YN is also here, I hope you don't mind."

"No Becca, that‘s cool," Robert said, following her into the living room.

YN was Rebecca's younger sister and Robert quite liked her. She was one of those people who believed in destiny, the supernatural, spiritual things and tarot cards, which Robert didn't think much of. But she had always been very warm and kind to him and Robert was sure that there wasn't a single bad bone in this woman's body. She was just the way she was. As far as Robert knew, she worked full time in a perfumery and in her free time as an artist, but she remained rather unsuccessful. Her face immediately lit up when she saw him and gave him a friendly wave. She was wearing a pink dress, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, gold earrings and red lipstick. She was really pretty.

"Robert, how nice to see you! I brought some cupcakes, would you like one? They're homemade." She held out a bowl of pink muffins with strawberries and sprinkles to him. Robert gratefully took one and sat down on the couch next to the two women.

"It‘s really good," Robert praised YN's baking skills after taking a bite.

"Thank you, Robert. I baked them at 3 o'clock in the night because I couldn't sleep... It was another full moon. And my moon calender says that I should concentrate more on housework now, especially cooking and baking“.

He tried to hide his surprised expression and took another bite. Rebecca didn't seem confused by the explanation, she knew her sister well enough. Finally, YN slowly bent down towards them. "And do you know what my horoscope said?" Robert and Rebecca shook their heads.

"That I'm going to have my breakthrough this month," she finally said excitedly.

"You mean with your art?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Yes! I'm going to have a huge success. But I don't know what motif to choose." YN picked at her dress thoughtfully. "A portrait or a landscape... I'm not sure. I need a subject to practise on first. Just to get back into it. I haven't painted for months.

"You've painted me so many times," Rebecca said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "How about you painting Robert?"

YN's face lit up at the words. "That's a wonderful idea! Robert, you have such a beautiful face... Like an angel!"

Robert almost choked on his cupcake. "Please what?"

"Oh come on Robbie, she just wants to practise," Rebecca interjected.

Sighing, he looked into YN's bright eyes and shrugged. "Yes, why not..."

YN cheered immediately and hugged Robert happily. "But I can't sit still for like eight hours," Robert replied quickly.

"You don't have to do that," YN said. "You can come with me to my studio, I'll draw the outlines and a sketch, then I'll take a photo of you to paint the details later. If you like and have the time, we can start right away. It would mean so much to me, Robert, really!" He smiled and nodded again. He just couldn't look away from YN's eyes.

***

"Nice studio," Robert said, breaking the awkward silence. He looked around curiously. YN's studio was a bright room with large windows letting in the daylight. There were easels full of canvases and tubes of paint everywhere and the smell of fresh paint was in the air.

"Robert, I told you not to move," laughed YN, who sat behind a canvas. The two had left for YN's that afternoon. Now the sun was already setting outside and Robert felt as if he had been sitting on the floor in front of her for ages.

"I'll be done with the outlines in a minute."

"Good, because my butt is already hurting," Robert grumbled.

A short moment later, YN put the brush down, clapped her hands and grabbed a camera lying on a chair next to her. "Well, I'm done for today. Let's take the photo quickly."

Robert moved back into position and looked a little tiredly at the camera. A few seconds after YN had taken the picture, he collapsed. "My God, this is more exhausting than I thought."

YN laughed. "I believe you. I've been a model too."

"Can I have a look?" Robert asked curiously, sitting up with a groan.

"Sure, come here." YN turned the canvas a little.

"Oh, this is definitely... Art." If Robert was honest, he couldn't really make out much on the canvas. It looked more like a wild doodle of a man who, with a lot of imagination, could look like him. And for this he had been sitting in an uncomfortable position on the cold floor for almost two hours?

"I'll start working on the details tomorrow. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Robert forced a friendly smile, YN pulled him into a tight hug to say goodbye and he left the house, a little disappointed.

Days and weeks passed without Robert hearing a word from YN. He didn't know how far she'd got with the painting, or if she'd even thrown it away. But then, one Saturday evening, she finally called him to say that she had finished the painting and that he could come and see it tomorrow. Of course Robert couldn't resist the opportunity, as he was actually quite curious to see how the painting would look now, although he had little hope that it would be any better than the last time.

He finally arrived at YN's door at 10am the next morning. She immediately greeted him friendly and offered him a cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.

"Nice of you to come," she said and excitedly pulled him by the sleeve into her studio. "Close your eyes."

Robert did as she asked, although he was a little confused by her instructions. YN carefully led him to the easel in the middle of the room.

"And open your eyes."

Robert looked curiously at the painting in front of him, but then his jaw dropped and he couldn't get a word out.

"I've thrown away the old painting and made a new one. Isn't it gorgeous?"

He couldn't believe his eyes. The painting was insanely beautiful. It must have taken an eternity to work out all the details. He'd never seen so much care in YN's work, who usually painted in a rather chaotic way. Every single strand of Robert's dark hair was painted perfectly and precisely, and you could almost count every single eyelash. But most striking of all were the eyes, which stood out almost ghostly from the rest of the rather dark picture.

"It's so beautiful," he marvelled, running his finger carefully over the dry canvas. "But why am I wearing a sheer white shirt? I wore a normal black shirt that day. And my eyes look almost inhuman."

"Artistic freedom," YN quickly replied. "I wanted you to look a bit ethereal in the painting."

Robert nodded slowly with a raised eyebrow, then smiled again. "It‘s still so beautiful."

"You can have it if you want," YN offered.

He shook his head immediately. "No, no, keep it. It must have been so time-consuming that I don't want to take it away from you. I'm sure it's better off in your studio than in my house. But... promise me you won't sell it, okay?"

She nodded quickly and looked Robert straight in the eye. "No, I won't. I've made another artwork that I'm going to submit to the art competition."

Robert looked at her, confused. "To what?"

"Oh, I haven't told you yet. The art museum is running a competition this month. If I win, my painting will be on display there, isn't that great? Mrs Buchanan from the museum is coming to see the painting tomorrow. She's a good friend of my aunt's."

"That's great. Then I'll be rooting for you to win!"

Eventhough Robert had recently doubted YN's talent, he'd wished her all the best, especially now that he'd seen the beautiful portrait.

"And here it is," she joyfully pulled a cloth from a easel beside her.

"Oh, um... what is it exactly?" Robert asked, a little embarrassed as he couldn't make out more than a few patches of dark green on a grey background.

"The painting is called 'The Fog Forest'. The theme of the competition is 'Between reality and fiction: a journey into imagination'," explained YN. "The green stands for the trees of the forest and the grey is the fog and shadows, where you can easily get lost and dream.

"Oh, um, very nice." Robert forced a smile. "I'm sure Mrs Buchanan will recognise it immediately, also the deeper meaning, unlike me. You know I don't know much about art."

"I know that, Robert. But it's so kind of you to support me," she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now, I have another appointment. Busy schedule as a future CEO... you know," he replied quickly, then looked at her pretty face and felt his heart beating in his chest.

***

"Becc, when I tell you! I've never seen such a beautiful painting." It was just after half past seven the next evening and Robert was glad to be off work. He stood in his kitchen, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he chopped vegetables into small cubes.

"Are you sure, Robert? I've known YN long enough and she's never painted anything else than a few dots and lines," Rebecca's voice came over the loudspeaker. Robert thoughtfully placed the pieces of vegetable in a pot.

"I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe she was possessed by the ghost of Leonardo Davinci that night or something." At this moment Robert's doorbell rang. "I have to hang up, Becc, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow again." Confused, Robert wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to the front door. Who the hell was that? As he opened the front door, he saw a familiar face but also an unfamiliar one. In front of him stood YN, as always in one of her summer dresses and her big earrings, and next to her a tall, slim older lady with a tight bun and a blazer, looking at him curiously.

"Hey YN... what are you doing here? And who are you?" Robert wanted to know, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, it's him! I recognise him," the unknown lady said excitedly as she looked at him more closely.

YN tapped nervously with one foot and took a deep breath. "Robert, this is Mrs Buchanan from the art museum, she wants to have you."

"Wait, what? She wants to have me?" Robert laughed confused.

"Not you. The painting of you." The lady quickly clarified. "It's really gorgeous. What a work of art. It perfectly reflects our theme for this month. Between reality and fiction... Almost like a modern version of the Dorian Gray's portrait," she enthused.

Robert's jaw dropped and he looked at YN, stunned. "But... but you submitted a completely different painting to the competition. The one with the forest."

"Oh, please, sir, you couldn't even see any trees, forest or anything in the picture," she replied sharply, and Robert didn't miss YN's sad face. "I saw this masterpiece in the corner of her studio and asked her if she wanted to submit this instead of that… Fog-Forest... thing."

"This is not possible, I‘m sorry," Robert replied firmly.

"Why not?" Mrs Buchanan asked.

"I am a serious businessman, madam, about to take over a company worth millions. What would my employees and clients think of me if they saw the painting of me as an…an…ethereal creature? I have to maintain a certain respectability." Robert bit his lower lip as soon as he said these words. He realised that this was YN's last chance and that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a painter.

"It's okay, Robert“, YN said quietly. "I understand." Forcing a smile, she turned around together with Mrs Buchanan.

For Robert, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. He didn't want YN's dream to be shattered like his own. He had always aspired to become a professional musician and study music, but his father had always stopped him because he wanted him to take over the company one day. Even though Robert didn't even think he was the right person for this huge job.

"Wait, YN." The echo of his voice sounded down the driveway, the two women, who were about to get back into the car, immediately turned around.

"Let‘s do this, YN."

****

"A glass of champagne, sir?" asked an elegantly dressed lady next to him, balancing a small tray in front of her.

"No, thank you, madam. I don't drink alcohol at the moment," Robert declined her offer in a friendly voice.

"And for our winner? On the house, of course," she asked YN, who was standing next to him. She gratefully accepted a glass. The exhibition was in full swing. Many different artists were exhibiting that day, but no artwork attracted as many glances as YN's. Rebecca joined them and patted her sister on the shoulder. "I looked at it again, it really is amazing. How did you do it?"

"I don't even know it myself. It's as if my hands painted it themselves," YN replied, taking a sip from her glass.

"That supports Robert's Davinci theory," Rebecca chuckled.

YN looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Rebecca replied quickly, pointing to the glass in her sister's hand. "Hey, where did you get the champagne?" she wanted to know.

"From that lady over there," YN replied with a grin and immediately Rebecca was gone in the crowd.

"I'm so sorry," Robert said quietly. "For what?" she wanted to know in surprise.

"For underestimating you... You and your art... You‘re such a wonderful, strong and unique woman."

YN bit her lip and Robert felt that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Robert." They remained silent as they watched the visitors pass by the artworks.

"So my horoscope was right after all," YN told Robert. "I really had my breakthrough. Do you believe in them now?" she wanted to know.

"Maybe," Robert replied thoughtfully.

"Do you know what else he said besides success?", she asked him.

Robert shook his head and smiled curiously.

"That I will also find love this month," she said quietly, putting her glass down on a small table beside her. "Maybe it was the love I felt for you when I painted that picture that made it so beautiful. Maybe that was the reason for all the success.“

Robert looked into her eyes and gently stroked her soft hair. Finally, he slowly pulled her into his arms and their lips touched immediately.

- 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

[artsymeeshee]

It isn't much of an ask, as more of a thank you.

Your heavier toned sea grunk comic with Stan discussing his thoughts of suicide has always held a place in my heart.

I started into the fandom around January 2022, and was pretty introverted getting into it. At that time, I was around 13 years into my undiagnosed depression, and failed one attempt to end it in that span. My introverted nature and being so warped kept me from wanting to engage with others from the fandom. I figured I was an outsider with more issues than what could be handled, and no one would be there for me(and I wouldn't blame them).

I didn't think that around July 2022, people would begin reaching out to me, understanding me, and accepting me. I found kindred spirits and my family. And in September, my best friend found me. She is the Ford to my Stan. She has stuck by me and loved me when I have been unlovable and it wasn't required. And we bonded over our favorite guys of course. She got me into Tumblr, and this was one of the first comics that I saw, and it made me bawl. It felt like talking to my best friend face to face, even 500 miles apart.

Then, shifting into December 17, 2023, I tried again to go, standing in the freezing night on the edge of the local bridge, seeing the dark, and waiting to embrace it. And everything that I loved flooded me in that darkness: My best friend, all my friends I had made, my family, and this comic. Stan felt that way, but he held on, because he got Ford back. It was part of why I stepped down, and just sat for awhile, and took the time to finally get help. Those feelings are now distant and rare when I reached out for proper help.

Even now, I'm struggling, but not wanting to be in that place again. Just feeling like I'm inadequate as a spouse, but we are both working through it. It has been difficult the last few weeks, and this comic emerges again today, and flooded me all over again with the reminder that Stan chose to live, even if it was hell for a long time, and I can do it too.

So, if you haven't fallen asleep on me yet, I just wanted to thank you for making this comic. And for all of them. It resonates with me deeply, and frequently more than you'll ever know, and at points, has kept me here.

Thank you 👉👈

🥺🥺 Oh wow. I don't know what to really say but thank you for opening up and telling your story. I know it can be really hard to open up like that. It makes me happy to hear that things have gotten a lot better, even if it's not 100%.

That comic was a spur of the moment kind of thing because I was originally going to make just a vent post of myself but then something about wanting to get out particular thoughts I've had through Stan seemed like a better approach. Perhaps this could come as a bit of surprise to some but as much art of Ford I've done, Stan is actually the favorite of the two.

I kind of thought that comic was going to be my last at the time. My mind spiraled pretty bad during that time last year and figured that it wasn't worth trying to say how I've been and just leave because I genuinely believed I was better off no longer being part of the Fandom. I still think I do on some days but seeing messages like these or even small encouraging ones is enough to think I am still worthy enough to stay.

❤️

[vintagetvstars]

Terry Jones Vs. Alan Alda

Propaganda

Terry Jones - (Monty Python's Flying Circus, Do Not Adjust Your Set) - I wish I could tell you all in a few sentences just how handsome, funny, intelligent, kind and soft-spoken Terry Jones was. How passionate he was about the things he loved, lacing his interests (like e.g. history) throughout all the projects he was working on. How he was supposedly always laughing and giggling when writing and reading out sketches. How he admired the art of silent movies/Buster Keaton and was obsessed with writing poems as a child. How he was described as a wonderful friend and a little as if he carried his own world around with him. But there is simply too much to tell and I adore him too much to pick the best facts, so this will have to do

Alan Alda - (M*A*S*H) - He is both the saddest wettest little meow meow and your kindly grandfather and your favourite eccentric uncle (mom's side). Somehow it works. Passionate Democrat, feminist, great writer, he and his books are hilarious. Did a cartwheel when he won an Emmy! How he met his wife is the best meet cute of the last two centuries, and they've now been married over 60 years!!!

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Alan Alda:

he’s just so good in MASH

he put so much bisexuality into hawkeye i think it fundamentally changed me when i was little and watching mash for the first time. anyway do we all know the story about how he met his wife when they were at a party together and they were the only two people eating the cake that fell on the floor and he fell in love with her over her laugh. i just think hes neat :) i love when theres a strange looking man. also feel it necessary to say that the guy that wrote the book mash was based on wrote himself as hawkeye and HATED alda's hawkeye bc he displayed his morals too much (alda had it in his contract for the show that every episode had to have an operating room scene bc otherwise you arent backdropping the fact that war is Not fun. actually. he almost didnt take the role bc he thought a war comedy would make too much light of the horrors)

please please please use this picture of him, he's so hot in it

His comedic delivery in MASH...

The story of how he met his wife is charming and sweet, and they've now been married 65 years

Just look at him. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen but also he's completely average. He's got a weak jawlines and a round face and these big soft eyes and he's just so beautiful. He's capable of playing a silly charismatic sitcom protagonist in one scene, and a jaded army surgeon haunted by the deaths he's witnessed in the next. He's so hot that my dad once told me he decided to apply to medical school because of how much he was attracted to Hawkeye Pierce. That's literally how I learned that my father was bisexual.

He's also just a really great dude? He's been outspoken about his political beliefs for a long time, and has always been strongly and vocally anti-war, pro-feminist, and pro lgbt. He served a tour in the Korean war, and his experiences there informed his performance in the show. He (and honestly the entire cast, but especially him) really just soared above and beyond the standard for comedies of the day.

He's so funny and his eyes are pretty

He loves and is a champion of science (Source).