#mindy's ink

[first-stricture]

Mindy's Ink

tattoos: Jean-Luc Monnet

[elliottswaterlilies]

Weird (1/?)

wanted to experiment & see if I could pull off a short comic series 😔

[beesofink]

Currently figuring out some concepts for the final designs, I like them so far!

[asoftepiloguemylove]

"I couldn't touch you without ruining you,

so I didn't touch you at all."

Mindy Nettifee, All I Had To Say For Myself

[seeingstarks]

weight of two souls

summary : it's thanksgiving and neither you or phil want to leave each others arms to go and meet the family. does it even happen? pairing : cm punk x afab!reader cw : pure fluff, cuddling, kissing, hip/thigh squeezing, cursing, nose nuzzling, babygirl/good girl & king/queen nicknames, innuendos "sound proof walls" / "taking his scepter" a/n : can you tell how much i've been missing the old man? x) i've been working on this for about a week or so and put my entire heart & soul into it. please reblog!! keep rude comments to yourself. <33 there may be a few spelling/grammar errors. word count : 1,291 words tag list : @harmshake gif credit : @adamjf

once the leaves started to fall your mood did the opposite, haunting month passing by in an instant.

calender flipping to november, the days went by agonizingly slow, this being one of your least favorite months of the season.

thanksgiving was soon approaching and your family always wanted to make it this huge get together. no being anti-social and locking yourself away, wishing you could every year. atleast they allowed you to bring a friend from work, if you could call him that.

the chicago native was more than a friend to you, he stayed up with you through your worst nights, steeping you both fresh cups of tea and/or coffee even if it meant catching up on sleep the next day, as long as he knew you were okay.

ever since he laid eyes on you, he made a best friend with just a simple hello and allowing you to pet his dog, larry. restless nights sharing deep dish pizza and mindy's eventually lead to cuddling, his inked arms wrapped around you, placing a kiss to his scruffy cheek.

the alarm clock chirping as sun peaked through your blackout curtains, neither of you wanted to get up for the morning - well afternoon.

you were the first to wake up, groggy eyed with phil having his arms snug around your waist, sleeping soundly except for his snoring which could wake up the entire neighborhood. larry decided to seek slumber at the foot of your bed, his head propped up on the chicago native's leg.

managing to shift away from his grasp, you hit the alarm clock with a clenched hand in hopes it would stop the commotion.

"rise and shine sleeping beauty, one hour 'til we meet my family. much as i don't wanna' go.. you promised to tag along for the torture."

phil didn't budge until you deciding to smack him with a pillow, "i'm up! i'm up!" he half-yelled, removing his hands from under the warm covers in an attempt to shield his face.

"a simple g'mornin' kiss would've woken me up too, y'know."

yawning and stretching his arms out, phil took his sweet old time getting ready while you on the other hand began to brush your hair out. bristles making contact with the h/c strands, they untangled after a few more brushes, setting it to the side and entering your closet.

luckily, you prepared your ensemble a night beforehand, slipping out of your clothing from the previous evening and stepping into a pair of black underwear with white polka-dots.

lifting your arms up to put on a shirt, you were met with a firm pair of arms which wrapped around your curvy frame, his lips placing gentle kisses along your neckline.

"mm, phil- could stay like this forever but we gotta' finish getting ready." you informed and looked up into his light brown hues with a playful smile.

"not complaining but i'm more ready than you are- atleast i have pants." shaking your head at the chicago native who indeed had pants on, but no shirt.

you raised an arm up to trace his pepsi tattoo, almost lost in a trance - simply enjoying the moment and his warm embrace as you remained standing still, being held close.

glancing over at your alarm clock, ten minutes seemed to pass by swiftly. spending all day in with your love would usually be no issue, but today you both had plans.

pouting softly and burying your head into the crook of his neck, you debated staying in and bailing on family dinner.

"so cozy.. don't wanna' move." you peeked up at phil, removing your head from his shoulder as he kept his arms securely around your waist, giving your hips a slight squeeze.

tongue darting out between his lips, the chicago native licked them, "i know babygirl... but think of all the cuddles we can get in afterwards. you're my favorite little spoon."

"i better be your only-" before having the chance to finish your sentence, phil captured your lips in a deep kiss one which you returned happily, "you're the only person i want to wake up next to every morning, binge watch horror movies with and much more. i'm so fuckin' lucky to have you in my life, y/n - but we truly should get goin' soon if we don't want to be late." he spoke sincerely although a half-chuckle escaped his lips, a few noticeable smile lines showing.

nodding, you captured his gaze only looking away when blinking - "you mean so much to me, phil. i felt as if there was a missing puzzle piece in my life.. and no matter how hard i tried nothing seemed to fit until you came along. we're the perfect match." placing your forehead against his, the two of you nuzzled noses briefly prior to pulling away from one another.

phil finished getting ready by throwing on his t-shirt which read i'm a collision girl in white letters across the back, tying up his sneakers. you did the same, sporting combat boots and a pair of black pants.

it was a miracle you and phil managed to make it out of the door in time, grabbing your keys and starting the engine up as larry sat buckled in the backseat pampered with dog treats.

"first time i'm officially meeting your family. do they know what to expect?" the chicago native asked, you had told your family about phil countless times.

the fact he was your boyfriend going on six months now and how he treated you perfectly. his queen who could hold a throne all on her own, independent but yearning for a partner. someone to feel safe with - who wouldn't hurt you like past partners. phil was your king - protecting you from harm, trying his best to keep the dark thoughts at bay, you doing the same for him.

"haven't shut up about you ever since we met. if my father heard the words cm punk or phil leave my mouth one more time they may have tried to disown me." you laughed, keeping your eyes on the road.

"ah, well it's a good thing we have sound proof walls - ever since the neighbors complained and when my babygirl gets needy, isn't that right?" you nodded, cheeks a bit flustered as phil placed a hand to your thigh, giving yet another squeeze, while you reached a stop light letting out a whine.

"what's the matter?" phil asked with a smug smirk along his face, causing you to roll your eyes over at him.

"best behavior, daddy-" words betrayed you while squirming under his touch, desperate for more. a loud horn halted you from any obscene thoughts running through your mind, the light turning from red to green as you began to drive again.

the ride wasn't too much longer, a brisk breeze going throughout the car as you cracked the window open for larry, he would let out the occasional bark when stopping by his favorite restaurants, one bakery in particular catching your own eye.

"want to make a quick stop for some sweets?" you asked already entering the parking lot.

"hell yeah, but won't be be late?"

"exactly my point." phil took your suggestion, wishing to spend the rest of the holiday with him only and not your family.

bell dinging as you two entered the bakery hand in hand with fingers linking together, a variety of treats on display behind glass.

"let's get some muffins to go. 'wanna spoil my queen," he leaned closer and whispered against your ear, "while you take my scepter like the good girl you are."

mr. and mrs. best in the world has a nice ring to it, don't ya think?

[fictionadventurer]

I'm obsessed with the way that Mindy Johnson, author of Ink and Paint, being interviewed on the Ink and Paint podcast (no relation) so effortlessly flips the narrative surrounding the women in Disney's Ink and Paint Department.

By pointing out that the work of Ink and Paint created what we actually see on the screen. Sure, the animators created the characters, but those were pencil sketches. The lines and colors that we see on the screen were all put there by women.

By mentioning that the woman in charge of the department is the one who decided to make Ink and Paint a female-only department--because the women were better at it. They were consistently more precise in laying down those ink lines in the smooth strokes required to keep the animation consistent.

Suddenly, instead of "women were stuck in Ink and Paint while the real artists got to be animators" it's "these women are amazing artists who were talented enough to do this work." And she does it not by rewriting the narrative, but just by refocusing the lens on what was already there.

[pollyna]

Tom is fifty-one when he enters a tattoo parlour for the first time. He says "Hello, I'm here to fix an appointment for a tattoo", showing the girl behind the desk two pictures of a robot. He walks out, ten minutes later, with $100 of deposit left behind and an appointment for two weeks from that moment.

(To be there at that time, he has to reschedule half of the meetings and the hirings that day so that his secretary looks at him like he lost his mind for the rest of the day.)

(At the tattoo patrol, Mindy signs the appointment as "Tom the hot dilf", Caleb laughs, "So you want this one?" and Mindy answers, "If you don't let me tattoo him, I'm going to make sure you're not available that day." All smiles and sunshine

(Mindy can be scary when she wants.)

It's Wednesday, and Tom is early, but what's new about that? Mindy is already waiting for him, a cup of coffee between her hands while she explains her ideas for the tattoos he showed her.

"What's the story behind this?" she asks, while she starts tracing the lines on Tom's body.

"I'm-" Tom starts before stopping once and then a second time.

"Sorry, I'm noisy. Don't feel like you have to share." She smiles, biting the inside of her cheek, trying not to blush too much.

"No, it's not a problem. I'm not very used to talking about this stuff with strangers," he answers a couple of seconds later, making a strange expression when the needles trace over a particularly sensitive area on his skin. "I'm in the Navy, and I'm gay. I thought that the Navy would have been my whole life, with nothing behind it, and if something was not surely the family I wanted, then something happened, and I got the whole package: a husband and baby. We were watching the iron giant when he presented me with the papers to legally become his dad. A little after that, he walked out our door, and I hadn't seen him for ten years. And now I'm in a position comfortable enough to get a tattoo because the only person who's going to ask me to strip when I'm at work is my doctor, and I know him for long enough; he won't rattle me out," he finishes, laughing softly. "I hope—I know getting inked won't solve the situation, but I hope my boy will like it whenever he sees it."

Mindy has to stop working to pick up a couple of tissues for Tom and herself.

"I'm sure he is going to love it."

"I really hope so; I really do."

(Mindy gives a brownie to Tom with all the instructions on how to take care of the tattoo, and she gets to give him a hug too, just before he walks out of the shop. When Tom hugs her back, she thinks the guy, whoever he is, must have been the luckiest son of a bitch because her dad never gave him such a food hug.

Three years later, a tall, curly guy walks in, followed by a man she is sure she has already seen somewhere.

"Tom!" She smiles. "It's unfair how you got even hotter since the last time I saw you," she says, all cheeky and smiley.

A man behind Tom, whom she hadn't noticed before, laughs. "Yeah, Tom, you get unfairly hot for sure," he says, looking at the man, batting his long eyelashes, and smiling all sweetly at him.

"Please, dads, not here too," the taller guy says, a hand already covering his face. "Can you guys stop flirting for two seconds? Please?"

"To be fair, I would flirt with him too, and even more openly, if he were my husband," Mindy answers. "So you're the kid?"

"Yeah," he says, a hand flying to his pocket. "I would like to take an appointment to have this tattooed."

He says this, showing her a drawing of a bolt.

"I have a spot now, if you want. One client cancelled their appointment yesterday."

The guy smiles at her before turning to the two men. "You don't have to stick around; I can take a cab home after."

"Nah, baby goose, we will get cosy on the couch and wait for you," the short man answers before taking Tom's hand in his and turning towards the couch.

"See you later, baby goose," Tom adds, a hand on his cheek. "We're going where you left us."

The guy smiles softly, almost a little lost. "I see you later than, papa."

The last thing Mindy sees before closing the door behind them is Tom kissing the other man's forehead while his hands rest over the place Mindy tattooed Tom years ago.

[silent-raven13]

A new take on Sunflowers!

(AU: No Spider-man powers. Hobie is a famous Punk Star/model/celebrity. He happens to go to an art opening and fell in love with the works and the artist)

"Ehhh!" Miles look at the bouquet of flowers and boxes of expensive gifts. He didn't even settle in his new studio apartment, he saw so many gifts being delivered to him. It was already the next day after the crazy party. Checking on the message card, "To my Sunflower, XOXOXOX, Hobie. 💜🌻🤘🏿"

He felt so flustered that he took the bouquets of flowers in his arms taking a big sniff. "They smell so good." He hums feeling his cheeks warm. The art opening did filled him with surprises, he didn't think he would catch a certain celebrity eyes.

-Last Night-

"Yes. Yes. We're heading there, now." The twenty seven year old punker slouches in the limo being bored by his assistant making calls to their manager. He rolled his eyes, so this is what being famous is like. The constant meet and greets, events, and talkshows. Ugh, the popularity didn't seem to stop because of his own Controversy nature, being chaotic to break anything.

The fans love that from him. His bandmates are meeting him at this art opening he so badly wanted to go. It was a refresher to find something that's his interest, but his agency being on his ass was pissing him off. He wanted freedom! To enjoy his time with his friends.

Now, his assistant is here being observant because the last time he was left alone, he had brawl with some jackass at a bar.

Figures...

He lit up his cigarette being annoyed, a good burn of nicotine will help him. "You're supposed to quit smoking." His assistant said being on her laptop.

"Come on, Mindy. I've been stressed all the damn time. I need this." He inhale being annoyed. "Fuck quitting."

"Then you have to deal with Bruce."

"Fuck him, too."

Mindy sighs before the limo stopped at the gallery called, "New Verse!" It's own by a famous man, who believes in contemporary arts for the diversity artists. Right now, there's three arts presenting their worsts that are upcoming to the art field.

Young BIPOC artists that were born and bred in New York City. Hobie honestly saw one painting on the pamphlet from invite from his good friend, Pavtri. A funny actor that changed the game by his bubbly adorable personality, his girlfriend is one of the artists. Yet, the punker wasn't focus on her inspirational Indian American women with abstract strokes and figures.

Oh no, he's eyes was curious when he saw a powerful, very old school graffiti style with a modern take of using media with bright bold colors and insane texts. The handwritten calligraphy had rough ink with profound words like slurs, then a beautiful black man figure crying. Tears all colorful with small texts inside. So many going all at once that he wanted to see in person. The piece had the sizes about 300 inches by four hundred inches on canvas mounted on wall. He had to see it.

When the limo parked, "We're here." His assistant said.

Hobie got out of the car seeing paparazzis already there to take photos of him.

Great, these fucking leeches

He wore his latest high end outfit; ripped tight black skinny jeans with patches by Farfetched brand, accessories like chains dripping to the side of hips. He wore expensive Prada Monolith and re-nylon black boots, and red laces. A Sex Pistol t-shirt personally shredded, Two belts around his waist, one he's actually wearing on his jeans but the other more for fashion that is slanted to the side. Then his Celine black leather jacket with his own custom touches having spikes and paint on it. His own rebellious style. Then tons of jewelry on him; bracelets from his wrists, necklaces, and diamonds piercings. All top with a very masculine cologne by Tom Ford.

His wicks bounces by every step of his heavy boots as he got out already having his black shades on to cover his eyes. He saw some of the fans waiting for him. "OH MY GAWD, IT'S HIM! HOBIE! HOBIE! WE LOVE YOU!"

"HEY, HOBIE COME LOOK OVER HERE!"

Hobie quickly walks away with a scowl, he tries hard not to ruin his black lipstick by Fenty. All this work to look good and these paparazzis never leave him alone!

Life as a Star

When he finally enters the gallery, he saw a group of body guards being there. It seems there was a lot of famous celebrities around, too.

Great...

He should've known Pavtri would invite more people for his girlfriend. His assistant said, "Oh wow, you can network with these other celebrities. There's Peni Parks, I heard she is famous for her robotics in Japan. Her company release the latest Androids."

"Huh, so we're about to get controlled by the government." Hobie snorted.

"Come on, Hobie. Not this again."

"It's true." He took off his shades to find other familiar faces like Miguel O'Hara, the CEO of Alchemax with a teenage girl wearing a black dress having to look at a painting. A famous man like that likes art? Huh, who knew.

Then Jess Drew, a popular lawyer never losing a case and a very expensive one at that. Hobie had follow her cases, seeing how she went to trial about defamation of character to a famous celebrity.

Petra, a famous three gold Olympic Athlete, she had one her titanium prosthetic leg wearing ankle pants with loafers and tight beige sweater. Her brown pixie hair cut had a shave to the left side showing off her pierced ears.

Then Ben Riley, a famous skater. Noir-

Aye, no way he's here!

Noir is a very popular contemporary artist that causes many controversy on society's politics. One of the most respected activists, too. He would shred his own work in front of auction if he doesn't like the buyer. The man stays hidden with his black mask. Hobie respected that man, too bad his works are out of his price range, if he could get his hands on it.

One popular piece was a Rubik's cube that he presented in a gallery then mix it all up. Then place it on a white pedestal. The price of that work started off two billion.

Bonkers, Hobie knows. But that piece started a massive wave for the hidden artists. Noir seems to know Petra and Ben.

Interesting...

He noticed a popular street artist, activist, and poet name Zero. Kaine, a famous game streamer on Twitch. Kitty, a popular influencer. Peter Parker, a famous American Actor.

So many blokes here!

"Oh, look there's Gwen!" She spotted a familiar Pop Punk singer standing with her own female band, which is her girlfriend drummer, Margo and Silk, a girl who plays the guitar.

"Aye," Hobie was about to go over until, he stops when his eyes caught the art piece he been yearning to see. When he enters the room to find more works.

His eyes on the large piece, he took in every single detailed. "Mindy, luv. Can you please give me wine?"

"Sure thing, Hobie." She went out of the room to leave him to admire the works.

Hobie saw the artists name and description, "A cry for Help! By Miles G. Morales..." He read seeing the materials being made by spray paint, acrylic paint and other stuff. He didn't want to read anymore, so he can try to figure out the meaning of the work.

Taking a closer look, he saw details of Brooklyn, police brutality, drugs, and struggle. Then a light white out line of a man and woman with child that is very hard to see. If you're not paying attention, a person would think it's a decorative add-on.. Then more Corporate brands, then drug names, and money prices. The background of blue shading with imagery of activism. So many things going on that represented the struggle for black people, it touched Hobie. Especially the image of the black man crying.

What surprised him is the soft touch up to imply make up, the figure had a smudge light lip gloss and glittery eyes, his skin cover with light newspaper textures with to-day's and past events of black trans struggles, and racism.

Bloody beautiful...

Mindy came by to hand him his glass a wine, she hums, "Your eyeliner is smudging."

"Thanks, darling." Hobie wipe the tear off his eye, "It's a fantastic piece, innit?"

"It's really sad..." Mindy frowns at the painting, "Crazy how colorful it is. Like they want you to be happy but when you look at it longer... you see the true ugliness of America."

Hobie sips his wine with a nod, "Exactly. It's perfect. How much is it?"

"300k."

"What? So little?"

"He's a new artist in the field. He's been popular through social media, but not in galleries. It's a different wave." She explained.

"Pfft, and he's black?"

"Yeah."

"Figures. Always the black man getting the short end of the stick." Hobie took out his black card, "I'll double the price."

"Are you sure?" Her eyes widen.

"Yes, I'm sure. I got payed from that stupid Pepsi commercial so I'm winning to buy this at a reasonable price." He said.

"I'll look for the seller. Stay here." She said before going to find them.

Hobie had no problem staying when he can admire this painting. Unaware of a black hooded man standing next to him. "You been looking at this piece for a while, huh?"

"It's a powerful piece." Hobie glanced over to find the person wearing a black hoodie.

"Meh, it's ight." He casually said.

"Are you bloody mad? This is one of the best works I've seen and trust me, I've seen bullshit artists from France, Japan, even the MET." He snorted.

"Gayatri's work is amazing. Zero's installation is freakin' cool." He added, "They are actually showing real struggles as women of color."

"I'll see for myself, but this right here! This is where it's at." Hobie said proudly.

The Hooded man chuckles, "Alright, but take your time looking at the other works." He left with that.

Hobie rolled his eyes but his nose tickle of scents of Sunflowers and tropical shea butter. "Who was he?" He mutter to himself, before going to the next work. The artist made five pieces. In the room there was only four massive works.

It seems Hobie fell in love with the artist, because the second work he loves it even more. It was a massive photo of a black male punker with tattoos, so much piercing on his face and had this scary look with so much spikes and ripples on his clothing. He had intense makeup, but the photo is only black and white.

The figure had a charming smile with his tongue out and wink while he holds a bouquet of sunflowers. The Sunflowers were painted in cartoon like, and there was other paintings of feminine and cutesy imagery. Stickers, and spray painted text. Hobie quickly read the name of the work, "A New Take on Sunflowers: Triptych Part 1 by Miles G. Morales."

Hobie went back to look at the piece, the Sunflowers were brighter almost glowing with youth. "A New Take on Sunflowers... By old Vinny?" He did love this work. He saw how the Punker represented gender fluidity, to embrace their culture yet love the things that aren't represented in their lifestyle. It could also show how someone 'scary' looking have a softer side by holding the flower with care and love.

"Hobie, your bandmates are here." Mindy came back to tell him.

"Be there." Hobie didn't wanna see them when he had these works to admire. The next painting was next to the punker photo. This time the second painting is a photo in black and white of two black women kissing being in the Ghetto of New York. They hold their Sunflowers. They had on weave, bright gold jewelry, tight clothing being so happy to be together.

Now that's love.

His eyes saw the color of the jewelry being the same yellow as the Sunflowers, and more happier texts and doodles around the two. The women had on wedding rings on, celebrating their marriage.

Hobie chuckles, "Cute." He saw the third part of this work. This one is a Puerto Rican mother, how did he know she's Puerto Rican? The massive flag in the background, and the woman sitting while braiding her daughter's hair with a soft gentle smile. The little Afro-Latina smiling at her big Sunflower as it aims at the two. It's a beautiful piece of mother and child.

Shit, why these works are affecting me so much

Hobie felt tears coming down his cheek, he never felt like this before. It's so beautiful and powerful. He needs them. He wants them in his penthouse!

"Hobie?" Mindy asked.

He quickly turns to her with his eyeliner already smudge, "I want all of these. Go buy them!"

"What? Hobie, you can't be-" Hobie glares at her. "Alright. Alright, I'll let the seller know!" She sighs, "Also, Karl and the rest of the band is here. Go say hi!"

"Ugh, fine." Hobie went to find his friends while his assistant went off to find the seller, again. His goal is to find the fifth work.

"Hey Hobs! What up, man?" His best friend, Karl high five him, he's the bass player of the band.

Riri chuckles, "Hey, share the love, bro!" She grins widely being the guitarist.

Mattea nodded, "Hey, Hobie." The drummer of the band.

Hobie gave them a hug, "Aye, mates. How's it going?"

"Great. With all these talkshows and trying to make our own shit, ugh we're exhausted." Riri said.

"Yeah, I released my own beer brand. Crazy, huh?" Karl chuckles.

"My own shirts." Mattea nodded, "We need to be smart because who knows what will happen with this band."

"What do you mean?" Hobie frowns.

"You know, we're all so busy trying to get our name out. It'll be better just in case if our band fall apart since you're busy with movies. Me with modeling." Riri added.

"And life." Mattea nodded.

"That's true. Ugh, we need to support each other. We still need to make our new album too." Hobie groans by this constant work load. "Fucking Bruce."

The rest groan. "Hobie! Hobie! I'm so happy you made it!" The group turns to find Pavtri holding his girlfriend's hand having to pull her with him. She giggles seeing how happy her boyfriend is.

"Hey, bruv. Been awhile." Hobie greeted him, "Luv. Nice to meet you." He holds Gayatri's hand and kissed it being a gentlemen when he wants to.

"Hahaha, nice to meet you, Hobie! I'm a big fan of Spider-Band!" She said.

"Have you seen, my sweet Gayatri's work!" Pavtri asked the punker with stars in his eyes. "Huh! HUH?"

"Oh honey," The female artist giggles, "He's been in Miles' room the whole time. I won't lie, his work is so good." She holds her side shoulder bag, "He even customized my bag. See!"

Hobie's eyes widen at the bag seeing the painting with Sunflowers and cute characters. "What? How? Can he do custom works?"

"Yeah, he does. I gave him one of my fabric works." She giggles, "You really like it, huh? It's moving, right?"

"I need to check it out." Riri said, "First some wine!"

"Same!" Mattea nodded.

"More like a crush." Karl knows when his best friend has a crush, it's very rare but it's obvious to see.

Gayatri giggles, "Really! Awe, you know he's single and ready to mingle." She loves playing match maker, with stars in her eyes being excited. "Zero, can tell you, he's so ready for a new man in his life!"

Pavtri pouted at the punker with fake tears, "Hobie, you promised you would admire my darling flower! My Gayatri's beautiful work! She took these beautiful hands," he holds her dainty hands, "and created this!" He jumps over to an installation of a blue cut out thick papers handing by a thread to show an abstract figure in blue. "All the dates we had to miss!"

"I will we have all the time." Hobie tries to explained then he was yank by Pavtri being forced to look at all of Gayatri's work. He even explain each one of them in great detailed.

Hobie spotted the last work of Miles G. Morales, it's at the end of the gallery on its own with nothing else around. He wanted to go see it, but he had to make his way through Zero's work, too. He didn't mind Gayatri's and Zero's work, they are amazing artist, but something about Miles' work. It got him, he needs to see the last painting.

After going through all his well known friends and admiring Zero's work. He found Miguel O'Hara's daughter gasping at Miles' painting, "Papá! Did you see that painting with the mother and daughter! It's so cute! Does he do custom work?" She asked, "I want one of me and mamá!"

"Alright. Let's see if we can book one." Miguel happily said to his daughter, his whole grumpy mood toward Peter changed when it was his daughter.

Jess giggles, "That Miles Morales is making waves with his work, being new to this game. I'm impressed."

"Yeah, the kid is freakin' good. He actually got some peeps from LA looking at his work. That kid is going to places."

The owner of the gallery is a tall thing black man, "Alright, gather around." Everyone went to see the speech which Hobie cursed himself, he was so close to see the final painting.

He smiles happily, "I like to thank my wife, Jess for support. My good friend Aaron for helping pitch in. This beautiful gallery is meant to bring all young diverse artists to the art game. I hope you enjoyed Gayatri's amazing works focusing on the hardship of Indian American women identity and gender roles. Zero's beautiful installations on her poems and politics of today." The two women artists came up with a smiling widely. "Sadly Miles couldn't make it today but his work focus on the struggles of Black and Brown acceptance in America."

Hobie frowns, he was hoping to meet the artist. Gayatri made it seem he was around. How odd?

"They are the future for young Contemporary artists, we know the field mostly represents a certain group, so I hope to help them achieve their careers with this gallery." He holds his glass of champagne being happy.

Then, a man in black hood came walking past the group surrounding the artists and owner of the gallery. Jess' husband finished, "I hope you enjoy the rest of the opening."

Hobie spotted the black hoodie male carries a bucket of paint, then when the artists and owner moved away. "Hey, what is he doing?" Karl asked out loud spotting the figure.

The figure throws black paint on the final painting by Miles. Everyone gasps even the security was about to go over. "Oh my god! Why would he do that?"

Hobie's mouth dropped in shock, "What the fuck, bruv!" He shouted out loud in anger.

The figure grins widely seeing the security guards being stopped by the owner, he took out his bright yellow Spray paint, and wrote in messy dripping text, "Miles wazz here!" He put down his hoodie revealing his face.

Hobie's eyes widen at such a handsome young man; big honey brown doe eyes, wearing earrings, septum nose piercing, and a bright glowing face. His hair a tapered Afro with a fade. Wait, this is Miles? Miles G. Morales?

"Easy. Easy. He's an artist. This is his installation piece." The owner explained.

Miles let the painting dripped showing how the painting still revealed a bit. "I call this, 'I'ma do my own thing.'" He grins widely at the crowd.

Noir nodded giving a loud clap in approval. The rest of the crowd awed, by the piece looking beautiful with the add on drips and markings. Gwen shouted, "Holy shit, Miles!"

"Wow, amazing!" Pavtri claps like crazy being so excited, "I was filled with so many emotions!" Everyone went back to looking at other works.

Hobie finally got the chance took a look at the painting, "Ruining it, eh?" He saw Miles finished talking to Pavtri, who hugs him before leaving them.

"Is it ruin to you?" Miles stood with a grin, he wore an oversize black hoodie, some tight jeans and black and yellow Jordans.

"Nah, it's perfect. I believe chaos, luv." Hobie grins at him.

Miles giggles, "I bet, you known for that."

"So you heard of me?"

"I mean, who doesn't know Hobie Brown? The lead singer of Spider band." He giggles in amusement, "So, I heard you're gonna buy my works. I'm surprised. I thought my shit would be too much for a celebrity."

"Pfft, I'm a different kind, Sunflower." He sips his wine, "I always love works about black empowerment and to support a fellow one at that."

"Aye, gracias papí." Miles spoke Spanish.

"Ah, so you're Puerto Rican?"

"I'm half black and half Puerto Rican, my parents are over there." He chuckles seeing the punker looking over to find the same woman from the painting and a little girl.

"Ahh, inspiration?"

"They were the reason for my Sunflower series." The artist explained, "Honestly, I was so nervous for tonight because I'm a new comer and being with these amazing artists of New York- Ugh, I can't believe I'm here."

"That's why you doubted your work?"

"Pretty much." Miles admitted, "Funny, you're easy to talk to."

"I'm always listening, Sunflower." He leans over to get a closer look at the artist, "And I listen to the person I like."

Miles felt flustered then giggles, "Haha, funny."

"Oh yea? Gimme your number and let see if I'm playin?" He flirted with a deep voice. Miles didn't know what possess him to hand him his smartphone but he did. The Punker happily type his number into the phone and put his private social media too.

"Text me, Sunflower." He winks at the artist as he handed back his phone.

"Okay." Miles did the basic hey.

Hobie chuckles, "So soon? You really want me."

"No-no, I mean- awe man! I suck at this stuff." Miles pouts.

"Oh yeah? So you want me to be forward," The punker lift his chin up about to lean in, their lips close to almost touching, "Because I can."

"Eh?" MIles' honey brown eyes widen, he didn't think the punker would be this bold!

"NO! My big bro!" A little girl ruffling shoves Hobie away from her brother.

"Billie!" Miles saw his seven year old sister, "Awe, come here." Thank god, because he wasn't ready for a kiss like that. His face felt so warm.

Billie happily hugs her brother being picked up, "Yeah! Only I give kisses to mi hermano!" She kisses her brother's cheek. "Your painting of me and mamí esta may bueno, hermano!"

"Awe, thank you, Billie-boo."

Hobie only rub his nose then sniff. Damn, he almost got to taste him. Shame, but he does like it when they play hard to get. Licking his lips, his eyes yearn for the artist. Something in him wants him. Putting on his charming smiles, "So this is your little sister?"

"Yeah, I am Billie!" The little girl stated, "Who you are? You don't kiss my brother!"

"Sorry, she loves me too much." Miles giggles. "Billie, this is Hobie. He's a popular singer. Hobie this is Billie."

"Hmph," Billie pouted giving a look at the punker.

"She is small. What is she? four?"

"I'm seven years old!" Billie huffs, "I am a BIG GURL!" She hugs her brother around his neck.

"Eck, Billie. Not too tight." Miles almost choked. "Sorry, she was like this with my friends."

"No problem. I love lil sprogs." He chuckles lowly, "Also, how do I book for a custom painting?"

"Oh, on my social I have a link to my studio website and there's a form for custom orders. You really gonna buy another painting from me?"

"Of course." He saw his assistant near him, "Mindy, darling. Have you met the seller?"

"Yes, sir. They are willing to sell all five works." She said.

"Alright, add another one. A custom on from Miles' website." Hobie smirks widen when he saw how Miles' eyes widen.

"Alright, if you wish to purchase it now, we need to go to the owner and have it ready for shipping." Mindy hums.

"Very well."

"Also, we should be leaving soon. You have a recording session tomorrow." She hums.

"Alright. Alright." He winks at Miles being a show off, he lifts Miles' hands up to kiss it, "It was wonderful seeing you. I hope we can meet again... without me buying paintings- perhaps a date?"

Miles' face went super flustered by the punker. He never thought this famous singer would be so sweet, so charming, so damn cute! "Huh uh." That's all came out of his mouth.

Billie side eye at her brother seeing how shy he became. "Lil one, I hope you will protect your brother from untamed men." Hobie smiles at her before handing her a crumble hundred dollar bill.

"Aye, Ayi! Cap'n!" Billie nodded at the tip.

Miles said, "Wait, you don't have to-" Hobie shrugs, "She can buy whatever she wants with it. Anyway, I'll see you later."

"Oh... Okay. Bye Hobie." Miles hugs his baby sister tightly feeling so bashful, his heart fluttering.

The punker left with a large receipt of five expensive paintings. He wave his fellow friends goodbye.

In the limo, he had a big smile on his face thinking about his Sunflower. "Never see you this happy? You really like the artist, huh?"

He sighs lovingly, "Yeah... do you know where he lives? I want to send him some flower." He breath exhale on the cold window letting it fog up, then he drew a crappy sunflower.

"On it." She nodded.

-Present Day-

Hobie chilling outside enjoying his pool after his record session. His Smartphone vibrating, he looks to find Miles calling him. "Sunflower! Surprised you called, miss me?" He flirted removing his dark shades.

"Hobie, I think you send me too many flowers...." He said.

"Oh? Fifty bouquets didn't come to you?"

"Fifty? There's like one, two, three.... forty nine-" Miles stops hearing the door bell, "Never mind, fifty."

"Then you got them all. How about the gifts?"

"Hobie, you shouldn't have sent this- I- It's nice of you for-" Hobie waves it off, "Nah, it's fine. I got money and wanted to spend it on you, Sunflower. Now, that you called- How about a lunch date?"

"Huh? A date?"

"Yup." Hobie sips on his sparkling water.

"Ummm," Miles felt bashful again, "Sure... where-where?"

"I'll pick you up. I know a great place. Also, I might bring another bouquet for you." Hobie happily said.

Miles nodded, "Okay. Do i need to wear anything?"

"I prefer lingerie."

"Huh!"

"Joking. I'm joking, luv. Something you want to wear. Don't worry it's a chill spot."

"Alright, man." The artist bite his bottom lip, "I... I don't do sex on the first date, by the way...."

"Oh? I'm surprised you expected me too." The singer chuckles.

"No, I mean- I'm so sorry that's rude. I just have to always-" Hobie chuckles, "It's okay, luv. I promise I'll give you a kiss on the cheek."

"Just a kiss on the cheek." Now he sounded disappointed.

"Or you want on the mouth with tongue?"

Miles never felt so embarrassed, "Your a jerk, Hobie Brown."

"You seem to like it." He laughs.

"I do actually." His pouty lip more enhance as he listens to Hobie's voice. Something about this punker got him thinking about him. He had a beautiful dream with him and it feels like he known him. Its weird.

"Then, I'll pick you up soon. See you later, Sunflower."

"See you, Hobie." Miles hears him hung up, then he hung up. The artist never felt like this. Touching his lips feeling the cracks of his dry skin, "I need to moisturized! Lip scrub! Look good for him!" He rushes over to the bathroom to get ready.

A special bond formed between the artist and the singer.

[dreamersbcll]

“Ink Blots”

for @krikeymate

3/5

——————————————————————————

May 19th, 2018

Dear Sam,

Two years. Two whole years. You got up and left. No surprise. I’m still where you left me.

Every day I wake up, and there’s five seconds of bliss before I remember. You’re there for a heartbeat, nothing more. I can almost feel your breath on my cheek and your hand brushing through my hair

I can picture it all. You are holding me, your chin buried into my shoulder. I am holding your hands as they wrap around me. It’s imprinted on my brain.

Amber tells me every day that I need to move on. That you’re long gone. That when you were here, you were never really here. It’s like a broken record.

Yet, She’s right in some ways. You always chose any other substance but me.

But I don’t want to admit that she’s right. She would take it and run. I love her, but she’s a little too intense sometimes. We’ve watched the Stab movies every night since you left like clockwork. I don’t get it.

Please come home. The back door is always open. I don’t lock my bedroom door anymore. You can slip in.

Love, Tara.

——

June 15th, 2018

Dear Samantha,

Formal right? I found your birth certificate and some other documents today. Well, Amber did. She looked through my shit earlier, claiming she “wanted to see if you took your personal information.”

Spoiler: you didn’t. But I don’t know why you would. I’m pretty sure just a driver’s license is needed to disappear.

Anyways, I put your shit into a box and hid it under the floorboards. You’ll find it one day, I’m sure.

I couldn’t find my information. Maybe I’m not a Carpenter. That would be something, huh? Being able to escape this hell family line.

A girl can dream.

Tara Carpenter (maybe).

——

September 27th, 2018

Dear Sam,

High school sucks. Sophomore year sucks. I hate this place.

I don’t want to do anything. I hate math. I’m not good at history. I can’t remember shit.

All the teachers give me looks. Looks of sympathy, disgust, suspicion. I think they recognize the family name. School wasn’t your thing, but it would’ve been nice if you didn’t fuck it up for me. I can barely keep up with the shit they throw at me.

The only one who’s forgiving me is my English teacher Ms. Smith. She has kind, gentle brown eyes, just like yours. Surprisingly, she’s the only teacher who believes in me.

We read books a lot. She helps mentor me in critical writing skills.

Who knows. Maybe I’ll write a book and make us famous, just like that Gale Weathers lady.

Tara

——

November 16th, 2018

Dear Sam,

Do you ever wonder if Mom was ever good? Did we make her this way?

Did I make her this way?

I’m so sick of cleaning up broken bottles and piles of puke. I’m so tired of watching her wither away right before my eyes. I can’t even save her. I can’t tell her to stop. I can’t get her to stop.

Begging and pleading never worked. Trust me; I’ve been trying it with you every night. I think God, or whatever deities I pray to, stopped listening years ago.

It’s strange. First, Dad leaves. Then you. And now Mom had her foot halfway out the door. Is it me? Do you all leave because of me?

What the hell did I do?

Confused, Tara.

——

December 14th, 2018

Dear Sam,

Sweet sixteen. Happy birthday to me. Not that you cared.

Mindy and Chad decorated my locker. Amber bought me flowers and a cake. Ms.Smith gave me a new journal. Mom went on a business trip to Singapore.

And… I’m sixteen. I have a handful of people that care. But they don’t matter. They don’t fucking matter.

I want you, Sammy. You promised to teach me how to drive. You promised to take me for my license. I’ve had to learn how to drive with Amber. And she’s taking me for my license tomorrow. Everything you were supposed to do.

But I suppose this is what you wanted. You would’ve come back if it wasn’t.

I hope wherever you are sucks. I hope you feel my disappointment and anger from here. I’m furious with you. I hate it.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Tara

——

January 1st, 2019

Dear Sam,

I’m drunk and I miss you and I wish you were here I wish you loved me I want you to love me come back come back come back

Love Tara

——

February 18th, 2019

Dear Sam,

I got picked for the school newspaper—advice column. I laughed in Ms. Smith’s face when she offered it to me.

Advice column. As if I would be the one to give advice. I can’t get anyone to stay.

Did you hear that Robbie Sullivan asked me on a date? I said yes. He never showed up to the theater. Amber was pissed. He came to school the next day with a broken arm and fractured ribs. He said some asshole attacked him.

Funny. Amber talked about a scene in the Stab franchise where someone gets ambushed and hurt. Seemed familiar.

Anyways. School is slow, and life is passing me by. Chad is a big-shot basketball player. I haven’t gone to a game. I can’t stand being in a room full of people and feeling so alone. Mindy is okay with it. She comes over sometimes to braid my hair and make my bed.

Everything is in slow motion. Time is passing, but not at all.

Do you feel that way?

Tara.

——

April 4th, 2019

Dear Sam,

I’m doing fine. I’m regaining all my strength and self-worth in record time. I brush my hair most days and even clean my room once a week.

I stopped going through the photos I kept under my bed. I feel no need to reflect on the past right now because that’s all I can do. There’s no future when I know you’re out there ignoring me.

Maybe even forgetting about me.

I joined a club. A book club. It’s nice just sitting there and letting people’s opinions swallow me whole. I can listen and nod, and everyone leaves me alone; because I’m not moping around anymore. Amber is happier anyways. She was so angry with me for being sad all the time.

Jokes on her; I’m still sad. But I can’t lose anything else anymore, so sadness is a wasted feeling. I can walk for hours in the darkness, stay up all night, pray, and it still wouldn’t matter.

You are still gone, and I am here. I might as well try.

Tara.

——

May 19th, 2019

Dear Sam,

Three years.

I don’t know if I have any tears left to cry for you. I’ve accepted that I’ll never see you again if you could help it.

I hope that once I’m out of this town, you come back, looking for me. And when I’m not there, you understand how it feels.

I try not to be mean. But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? An escape from me. You were leaving me before I could infect you with whatever darkness swirls inside me.

No explanation comes to my mind besides the one where you’re sick of me.

I don’t blame you. I get it.

Love, Tara.

[shions-new-blog-of-stuff]

"Crabs, Gulls and Lots of Sand"

OC/Named Tav, Ravaged Beach segment

Marilyn stumbles to her feet, coughing up sand and dusting herself off. Gently she tended to the tiny, lustrous ink black scales on the backs of her hands.

"What the hell was all of that?" she asks out loud to no one in particular.

Looking around, she sees the long stretch of beach, with broken machinery and corpses strewn everywhere. Trying to get her footing, she searches for what little belongings she had before that monstrous vessel took her away.

She sighs, hoping the rest of the gang are safe. Mindy and Louis were a little younger than her, but they were very reliable.

Marilyn briefly stops when she felt SOMETHING on her head. A seagull decided to perch on her head for some reason.

"I'M NOT A NEST YOU STUPID BIRD!" she yells, swatting the bird away. It caws and flies off.

Marilyn checks her hat. Still intact, thank the gods. She gives her auburn hair a shake, sighing at the seemingly endless sand stuck all over her.

As she explored inland, she hears a crackling sound. Buzzing and humming.

A whirling portal of energy spins and ripples. Marilyn sees tiny sigils around the border -- definitely magical energy.

"WAAAGH!" she cries out when she reaches to touch the portal and a hand pops out.

The owner of the hand calls out in distress.

"A hand? Anyone?"

Marilyn already misses her days of stealing fruit from the food stalls in Waterdeep.

@mishwanders @the-resident-vampire @baldursbasics

[elliottswaterlilies]

🔥 Return of the Hellspawns 🔥

UPDATED BENDYMOUSE KID DESIGNS !!!

Since it's their birthday Friday (March 10th is their birthday) I thought I'd share these kiddies rq 😔 bc I love them & they're my spoiled brats

I've mentioned their names before

Mindy (left) & Beckey (right) are the twin daughters of Bendy & Mickey:

Mindy is older by a couple minutes making Beckey the baby sister.

Beckey is partially deaf, she can only hear through her left ear (as shown she has a hearing aid.)

Mindy & Beckey were not naturally conceived btw; they were created from fur & ink which I can't elaborate further bc those are spoilers to lore.

UHHH Mindy never brushes her teeth & Beckey likes to collect baseball cards teehee

Here's their height differences with their Dads 💞 they are

very smol <3 🥺

RQ edit:

YES I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT MINDY HAS A HEART SHAPED TIP ON HER TAIL OKAY BYE

[beesofink]

Making something right now for something horrible that is going on in the Making Fiends Fandom. Hopefully this catches the eyes of many so that they see the truth.

[alterworldstudios]

Made these for a friend of mine!!! He wrote the lyrics, I drew em in! They’re the silly billy lyrics with a scrappy/mindy coat of paint!.. or ink? I dunno- enjoy!

[indecentpause]

Sunflowers and Ink: A Playlist

Read the intro post here!

the brobecks - love at first sight // voxtrot - the start of something // karen o - the moon song // passion pit - cuddle fuddle // the neighbourhood - sweater weather // mindy gledhill - i do adore // the xx - night time // kodaline - all my friends // the cure - the lovecats // ludo - anything for you // owl city - honey and the bee // michael cera - 2048 // he is we - i wouldn’t mind

vibes: lazy days in public gardens; small, closeknit neighborhoods; summertime crushes; loft apartments with open windows

[listen here!]

Read it on Wattpad

or Ao3!

General taglist:  @ohsugarfoot @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace @drippingmoon @viskafrer @thelaughingstag @athenswrites @kaiusvnoir @magic-is-something-we-create​ @fictionalbullshitter @idreamonpaper

[marvelman901]

Wonder Woman vol 2 45 (1990) . Legacy . Written by George Perez and Mindy Newell Penciled by Jill Thompson, Cynthia Martin and Colleen Doran Inked by Romeo Tanghal, Cynthia Martin and Colleen Doran Colors by Carl Gafford Lettered by John Costanza Edited by Karen Berger and Tom Peyer Cover by George Perez . The Legend of Pandora's Box... . See more relevant content here: #marvelman901wonderwoman #marvelman901justiceleague #marvelman901georgeperez . #wonderwoman #justiceleague #90s #georgeperez #pandorasbox #mythology #zeus #legend https://www.instagram.com/p/Cnxakc7suYv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bartoonist]

The Ink Demon feasts upon Bikini Bottom: I thought I could makeup an environmental message story on what if the Ink Demon a.k.a. Ink Bendy in Beast Form could serve as an embodying reflection toxic ink spills that have polluted water place in a similarly criminal fashion as Black Oils have too, and what if the very thing that came out from that barrel of wasted ink sinking down into Bikini Bottom came from the Joey Drew Studios’ ink supplies made from the abominable ink machine that created Bendy the Ink Demon and those body horror B&W cartoon zombies and monsters etc, was the very demonic cartoon mascot that came out of that sinking barrel of the Joey Drew animation company’s living brands of ink and started spreading his animated ink plague upon the underwater lives of Bikini Bottom, thus making the survivors scream in shock and horror as they start running for their lives being chased all those ink monsters as if they’ve turned the victims of Bikini Bottom into ink zombies too, and how it was up to SpongeBob as InvinciBubble from SpongeBob Movie 2: Sponge out of Water, to save his family, his friends including Patrick Star and his movie love interest: Princess Mindy from SpongeBob Movie 1 of course, and all the underwater lives of Bikini Bottom from this ink plague, fight the ink demon, and save the day etc. I did some research on whether or not Ink barrel dumps in water places were criminally practiced too, just as much as Oil dumps have for years since they’re both Black, and I’ve to art shops that carried oil based ink pens too sometimes, if an ink dumping story in a SpongeBob pollution warning fan story could ever really make sense or not, but I hope you folks like my environmental message take with this bendy x SpongeBob fan art drawing I’ve made today, and I hope you like this song choice that I thought could reflect InvinciBubble fighting Beast Bendy and his ink plague to save the underwater lives of seven seas too of course. #batdr #bendy #spongebob #spongebobfanart #traditionalart #ecf #ecfartcenters (at Inglewood, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClhyXgwL6Qh/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=