#Love how loose the poses are and the expressions are great

[supertuna-sideblog]

🍓Pairing: Dance Teacher!Jung Hoseok x F. Reader

🍓 Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

🍓 Word Count: 9.2k

🍓Warnings: negative self thought/talk, swearing, dirty talk, smut, kissing, heavy marking, fingering, unprotected sex, some degradation, requited pining (please let me know if I missed something)

🍓Summary: It's been a year since you started dancing at Hoseok's studio, in that time an easy friendship has bloomed between you both, and maybe a bit more on your part. But Hoseok's just a friend, and there couldn't possibly be more there, right?

🍓 Comments: From the first time I heard Hozier's Eat your young I knew I had to write something with J hope for it. So here we are! Please enjoy!

“5, 6, 7, 8–” his voice carries over the pounding bass that hums through your muscles and bones. 

But you can’t think about his voice, you can’t think about anything. Right now you’re focused on the music on the next steps Hoseok planned in the routine. Not the way the sweat-soaked shirt clings to the muscles on his back as he moves from one energetic step to the next.

Your tongue, definitely, doesn’t slip out of your lips to trace along the bottom as your eyes watch a bead of sweat slide down the column of his throat to disappear beneath the collar of his shirt. 

You’re focusing on the dance, on the way your body moves in time with the tempo, and how the riffs of the guitar send shivers down your spine when they harmonize just right with the bass. Making sure your hands stay on beat.

Shoes squeak against the polished hardwood. You risk a glance at the girl beside you. Her movements are effortless, fluid, and graceful. A bolt of jealousy heats through you, but your eyes close and you focus again on just you and the music. Hips swivel in time to the chorus. Hoseok’s voice calls out over the music, “final stretch, make it count!” 

His favorite thing, to shout in the last measures of the song, the final encouraging push that gets everyone through the last grueling set of an hour long practice, because Hoseok loves to challenge his students and this one, an intermediate class, is no exception. 

Your hips chant to the side as your eyes slide open to catch Hoseok’s last moves. Drawn to the way his hands go from fluttering in the air to caress his inner thigh.

Your breath hitches as for a second your mind stalls. Gaze memorizing the way, his lithe fingers trace along the muscle there up to the seam of his hip, where his hand cups a subtle bulge. 

Before tracing up the line of his lean body, even in baggy sweats, he looks perfect. His shirt shows just enough skin to get your heart racing, the collar loose enough it’s slipped off his shoulder, the tender flesh stretched over his collarbone tempts you.

As your hungry ogling finishes its course and meets those intense brown eyes, you pale. Fuck, you’ve been caught.

You stumble on the last turn, but catch yourself just in time to face the right direction. Kae-in snickers behind you as heat blooms across your cheeks, and to the tips of your ears.

Thankfully, though no one else has caught your blunder. But pray that Hoseok hadn’t seen it... he didn’t make a comment.

Then again, the last time he’d caught you gawking at him during practice. He’d give you a cheeky wink before cackling at your dumb-struck expression. 

The dance finishes with a quick pose. Your legs quiver for a moment, unsure if they can hold your weight. You pushed yourself today, and your body is feeling it everywhere.

Not the smartest move, considering you have your private studio session after this. Other dancers around you pant and huff, catching their own breath. The music cuts and Hoseok claps, along with everyone else.

You manage a weak clap with the others.

“Great work everyone!” 

Hoseok's voice is energetically gleeful as he wanders over to the cabinet where the audio setup sits. Like he hasn't been dancing for 8 plus hours.

His fingers move effortlessly as he turns off the music. Shoulders rise and fall as he catches his breath. The sweat clinging to his golden skin making it to glow under the fluorescent studio lights. 

“Amazing as always class, remember to practice for next week. We’ll have auditions for the spring recital and all that jazz. I hope to see all of you there!” 

Everyone takes their time packing up. A gaggle of students having rushed Hoseok to ask about audition ideas. Most of them vying for the last few minutes of class, for his undivided attention.

He’s happy to converse with all of them, girls fawning over him, a few guys in there too. Eagerly asking for advice on their movements and audition ideas.

Which he happily responds with a critique that’s just the right amount of brutal and constructive.

You make it to your bag, a slight wobble in your step, manage a painful kneel, find your water bottle, and take some healthy swigs from the plastic container. Your throat is grateful for the cooling fluid.

Kae-in is beside you in a second, her hoodie already on. She’s put on the hood but left her ears out. She has that look on her face that tells you she saw the entire last measure debacle. Her eyes crinkled in a shit-eating grin as she grabbed her things to leave. 

“So wanna go over your little stumble in the last steps?”

You level a glare at her, half tempted to throw your sweat-rag at her, but you resist. Rather, rubbing it along your neck and face, sighing softly as you dry yourself. While you loved dancing, you hated the sweat that came with it.

“I tripped, I do that all the time–” she snickers, leaning close enough that the others packing up don’t hear her. 

“I saw the way you were eating him up, not that I don’t blame you–” now the sweat-rag comes out, as you shove the offending thing at her, Kae-in lets out a squeak falling on her butt.

You glare down at her. She has the audacity to pout, like she’s the victim of this!

“I was not, I tripped, and that is all you need to know,” you respond with a mocking pout of your own.

She gets back up and hits your shoulder. You turn to continue the fight sweat-rag at the ready, but she holds up her hands in mock defeat. 

“It’s not like you're the first girl to do it, certainly not the last. I mean, look, he’s still being swarmed and I know he’s answered their questions 20 times.”

She smirks as she glances over to the far corner where Hoseok still stands with his gaggle, smiling and laughing. 

“I didn’t–” she hushes you and winks. 

“You didn’t look, I know, you’ll have plenty of time to do that in the next hour–” you clap a hand over her mouth. 

“Kae-in, I love you, but you are a pain in the ass, you know that?” 

She smiles that squinted eye smile that makes you laugh. You give her one back before standing, removing your hand from her mouth, taking another few drinks of your water before glancing at your phone. 

A couple of messages, both from…Hoseok. 

How the hell did he send the texts while dealing with all the questions? But you’re checking them before you think to stop yourself. 

I’m undecided on food, stuck between bulgogi or jajangmyeon 😛…do you have a preference? 

Also if you’ve already eaten no worries. :3 

You can’t help the small smile that lifts the corner of your mouth. 

“Ohhhh dinner and a show–” 

“Kae-in, I swear if you don’t leave I’m shoving my sweat rag in your mouth and Jin Ho can help you fish it out,” she laughs as she skips just out of your reach. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” 

She’s gone with the last few stragglers from class. The flock has left with Hobi, probably to get food. You type a quick reply. 

I will love you forever if you get me some jajangmyeon <3 

As you glance around the studio and check the windows to make sure everyone is gone your phone buzzes in response. 

If I knew getting your love was that easy I’d have offered sooner ;) 

His texts always make you laugh, and while some small, tiny, insignificant part of you hopes he’s actually flirting you know he isn’t.

He’s your teacher, and yes, you’d consider him a friend at this point. After all, you'd been coming to the studio for a little over a year. 

You’d run into him hanging a flier at the local rec center and after a short conversation, he’d handed you a neon pink flier and given you a wide heart-shaped smile before going on his way.

You’d signed up the next week for a beginners class, needing another outlet besides working out on a treadmill. 

It’d been a year, discovering a love for dancing you’d never known you had. Also…getting the last hour of the studio all to yourself for a private session didn't hurt.

Especially when Hoseok had offered it to you when you’d mentioned wanting more time to dance besides just doing group work. 

“I think you have a talent, and I think if you went out for some competitions you’d surprise yourself,” you’d almost choked on your coffee when he’d mentioned competing. He’d laughed as you coughed. 

Hoseok was kind, it was one of the many reasons you’d stayed on with dance, even after being so self conscious about everything. The way you moved for a start, in the beginning the beat just seemed out of reach.

It seemed like your brain would command your limbs to move and it would be just a step off from everyone else. You liked to joke, you had two left feet, but through Hoseok’s diligent, and patient work you’d bloomed…At least you’d like to think you have. 

The buzz of your phone pulls you from your thoughts. 

At the restaurant, jajangmyeon is gonna be a bit D:

You smile again at his use of emoticons. He texts like a teenager. But you’re quick to reply, so that you can work on your set. 

No worries, you know how long I’m here till, also I’m not leaving till I get my promised food ;)

You stand taking your water to the front of the class, the mirrored wall reflects your tired self back at you. You don’t look too long, putting your water down to go to the stereo cabinet.

Phone in hand you find the aux cord, hooking up the device the speakers connect with a loud pop. 

Getting into your music app you ponder on what to dance to first, it doesn’t take long before you’re settling on some low and slow music. The songs are just mixes, without vocals.

Just music and beats to focus on, rather than lyrics to muddle your mind, thinking about what steps would go best with them. A deep bass pounds through the amps, vibrating the room with their depths before the subtle electronic chords join the hum.  

A cooldown from Hoseok’s fast-paced, hyped music is a welcome change your muscles need. Your movements are slow and languid, letting your body stretch into each move rather than a quick jab and jolt to the next. 

You loved Hoseok’s dances.

They lit up something inside you, got your heart pumping. His dances were a mixture of a work out and sex as Kae-in loved to joke. Hoseok put everything into his routines and asked his students to do the same. 

You tried hard not to think about all your recent classes with him, in the last few sessions when he’d done an observation he’d come so close to you, watching your every movement.

No matter how many times you’d danced in front of him you felt like a beginner all over again. 

Could feel the way his eyes assessed every maneuver. How his hand was quick to correct a move. Quick to straighten your posture, his fingers lingering against the swell of your hip as he demonstrated how to move your hips in the choreo.

Your skin tingled from the touch, your cheeks warm at the thought, the wish that his fingers had stayed on your skin, that they’d moved lower. 

You attempt to shake off the thoughts, trying to focus on your dance, matching your made-up choreo to the music. Your hands start at your hips, legs spread wide as you lower into a squat.

Palms cupping your thighs as you spread them for the imaginary audience, or just a singular audience member. A quick bounce and your back up hands trail up your body again, fingers card through your sweat-soaked hair.

Pulling the strands out of the messy bun, slipping the hairband onto your wrist.

You risk a glance to your form in the mirror, again a wave of insecurity takes over. Even as you try to avoid making eye contact. Rather just watching your body move in time with the bass, a roll of your hips that follows the line of your leg to the tips of your toes. 

Your body is like water, let the music flow from it.

Another memory, when you first started dancing, and Hobi had started letting you use the last open hour of the studio.

The one-on-one time helped immensely, but also made everything so much worse. From Hobi’s unwavering attention, to his many assisting touches.

How easily he’d stop you during a session to maneuver you, how he’d demonstrate a move you just couldn’t get the hang of.

The heat from his hands all but burning through the loose clothing you wore normally to practice. How you refused to look him in the eye when he had you practice a move in the mirror. 

Just watch yourself, that will help. 

Sure you try watching yourself in the mirror–

I do it all the time. 

You’d made the mistake of looking him in the eye at that moment, in the low green light of the background LEDs they were shadowed and intense.

The way you felt pinned and devoured in that moment, the tension rose and for a moment something stirred inside of you. Your knees shook, stomach swooping, mouth going dry.

The moment broke when Hobi’s lips pulled into his signature smile that didn’t reach his eyes. But that instance had you refusing to look him in the eye for a month.

The remembered conversation heats your cheeks as you try focusing on the last steps of your sultry choreo. Twisting your arms in a spin that ripples down through your body.

Muscles tense and release, the ache from the previous rehearsal is gone. Replaced by the heat of wanting to get started on another.

The song comes to a soft close and your cool down has done nothing to lessen the heat you feel beneath the oversized t-shirt you liked to wear to practice.

As you stretch you consider the time on the wall clock, the cool down took a couple of minutes. Hobi would still be out getting food. And you really hadn’t accomplished much in your session, besides frustrating yourself further.

You huff as your body throbs, in both exhaustion and restlessness.

Like it can’t settle on one feeling over the other, and that adds to your mounting frustration. Walking over to the soundbooth you stop the next track.

Phone in hand you pause over the playlist, not really sure what to dance to next. The usual playlist for you is slow and steady. It helps loosen you up after a hard class and sets you up to relax when you get home. 

But tonight none of the songs on the playlist are calling to you, so you leave the usual and venture out into the ever changing mood of your music library. You don’t know what starts it, but there is a song you’ve had in mind for a while now. A few flicks of your thumb brings you to the album. 

Another tap and flick, and there it sits. Eat Your Young by Hozier had taken vicious root in your mind ever since you’d heard the beginning scat. The sinful chord riffs and the melodic mournful husk of Hozier’s voice had awakened something, primal, in you. 

The lyrics certainly hadn’t helped, the grit and grime to them. Hozier’s music hit all the places in your brain that you needed while dancing. And you just wanted to dance. Not focus on how you are dancing and certainly not focusing on someone else watching you dance. 

“Let’s see if you can get me out of my head,” mumbled to yourself, setting the song on loop. You pause though considering the brightness of the dance studio, intent on getting the mood for this song.

Remember Hobi mentioning that sometimes all it takes is a change in lighting for inspiration to strike. This song called for something dark, something carnal. 

Taking the remote you turn off the main lights, the fluorescent bulbs flicker off, and with another push of a button the LEDs glow to life.

Hobi was quite proud of his LEDs; he'd spent an entire weekend sticking them to every inch of the ceiling, making sure they were perfectly aligned so that the room would be filled with the glow of the multicolor lights. He’d left them on a cool blue, probably when he was setting up for class earlier. A few clicks and blue bleeds into a deep red. 

Basking in the lights for a moment, your fingers toy with the hem of your oversized shirt wanting to just throw the thing off. Overheated from class, and relief seems like it’ll only come from losing the garment.

You consider for a moment, Hobi won’t be back for a bit. You get the dancing out of your system, and the heat off of your skin. Before you can talk yourself out of it you're shucking the sweat coated fabric off. 

Your skin cries in relief as it’s exposed to the chill of the studio, in only your sports bra and loose sweats you let the music overtake you. 

You let the first bangs of the drum move you, your shoulders jolting with the bass. Rolling into a leisure sway as Hozier's voice echoes in the small studio. The bass ripples through your body, you feel your heart matching its hypnotizing beat. 

I’m starving, darling, let me put my lips to something

Let me wrap my teeth around the world

Your fingers trace the edge of your lips. You take a soft bite of your fingertip, before tracing it down your chin, throat, between your sport bra covered breasts to wrap around your abdomen where your hips sway in a lazy pattern. 

Start carving, darling, I wanna smell the dinner cooking 

Wanna feel the edge start burn

You keep more to the middle of the room, exploring the small space around you. Your legs widen their stance as you dip down from your waist dragging your clawed hands over your legs back up your body to your throat. 

Honey, I wanna race you to the table

If you hesitate the gettin’ is gone

You close your eyes, just enjoying the movement of your body and the intensity of the song. As the violins pitch higher and their notes grow frantic your breath pants as you meet their dissonant call. 

Get some

Pull up the ladder when the flood comes

Throw enough rope until their legs have swung

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

Moves become more turbulent but there is still that underlying calm and control to your dance. Hobi is about precision in his seemingly erratic movements, yours have a much less practiced feel to them, even as you lull from one move to the next.

You’re so close to losing focus, letting Hoizer’s honeyed voice wash over your mind, the tickle of his falsetto sending a shiver down your spine. So close to losing inhibition, be free of the cage that is your mind, just dancing, instead of judging and stalling.

But you stumble a move not hitting at the time you’d hoped it would, and then like a line of dominos one move then another starts to crumble your resolve.

You huff, eyes scrunching in frustration as you attempt the movement again, a simple move, you’ve done it a thousand times in class, but your muscles won’t obey and your hips feel off, like they’ve slipped out of joint for a moment. And again while your brain signals to your body to move, nothing listens. 

You growl in annoyance, sweat dripping from your scalp, drops slithering their way down your neck, pooling uncomfortably in your bra. As you miss one beat then the next and now you’re behind in the music.

Left foot forward, sway your hip, let the movement flow from your hip to your knee to your ankle. But fail again as your joints lock and refuse to flow as they once did, your fingernails dig into the palm of your hands, wanting so badly for this stupid move to hit.

For muscles to relax and just get this dance done. 

Hands settle easily on your hips, and everything halts, a soft gasp leaves you. Music fading to the background as all you can hear is a high pitched chime in your ears. Your hands come up out of reaction, nails dig into the soft flesh of his hands in a panic.

Hobi grunts softly at the sudden pain of your blunted nails in his skin. But the panic ebbs as you recognize those long fingers beneath your own. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet, you had time, your mind races.

“Come on,” his voice is soft in the shell of your ear, “you know this move.” 

Hobi’s hands are solid as they keep your hips trapped between his palms. His thumbs settle just above the band of your sweats, the heat of him sparks across sensitive flesh. He maneuvers you with ease, rolling your left hip forward and letting the right follow.

The grip of his fingers as they press into the fat sends a shock of pleasure coiling up your spine. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he mumbles again, his breath is warm as it fans over your ear, cheek and neck. Skin prickling as goosebumps rise in its wake. The smell of him overwhelms, the sweet spice of a cologne you can’t name.

You finally muster the courage to open your eyes. Glancing down at Hobi’s hands still there on your hips. The pounding of your heart fills your ears, as you look down then up. Meeting his eyes in the red glow, your breath hitches, and your gaze drops again. 

“Oh no,” like lightning, he strikes, hand leaving your hip to grasp your chin between thumb and forefinger. His grip forces your face up, body tensing as he presses himself against you.

Your hand chases his grasping at his wrist. Your fingers find purchase on the multitude of bracelets there. Fingernail catching on the beads of a bracelet you know one of his younger students made for him. 

“Hobi–”

The fabric of his t-shirt does little to defend against the heat of his body, the hard line of his chest contouring to the curves of your back. Your mind can’t ignore the way he so effortlessly molds into you. Two puzzle pieces connecting together so easily, but while your bodies contour so easily, you feel trapped beneath his steely gaze.

You refuse to look at him; you feel exposed, judged and assessed by those eyes. 

“Look at me.” 

The order is spoken low in his chest, feel the vibration of his voice against your shoulder blades. The tone makes you shiver, another bolt of warm pleasure strikes you. Warming your cheeks, and sending your mind reeling.

You follow his command slow, and unwilling, your heart beats against your ribcage, a wild indeterminable pattern. His fingers clench, digging into the soft skin of your cheeks. You wince a bit at the pain, but finally you meet his eyes again. 

In the red light they look black, taking you in, those dark eyes burning a trail from your toes up your left leg, pausing at your hip, the hand there clenching for a moment. Thumb brushing along your skin above your hip bone sending a new wave of goosebumps along your skin.

Tracing the curve of your waist, pausing at the swell of your breasts, covered by your sports bra. Up to the dip of your collarbone, you watch as he leans forward his lips so close to your skin. His breath warm before he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. 

A weak gasp leaves you as the touch of his lips sends a throb through you. A heat grows in your innards, muscles clench, breath hitching as he meets your gaze. 

“Hobi, what–”

“No hiding from me tonight.”

Mouth agape as you struggle to find your voice, Hobi smiles. It’s a slow pull of lips over teeth, the glint in his eyes as he holds your gaze. His thumb rubs along the edge of your jaw.

The touch sparking a new sensation with every stroke against your skin, his breath warm over your cheek. You’re aware of every touch, every atom of him that’s against you beside you. You’re greedy for more.

“’m not hiding,” you finally mumble and he chuckles, another warm huff of breath over your skin, his lips brush against your neck. 

“You’ve been hiding every class,” he mumbles as he presses closer, the hand on your hip sliding along the edge of your sweats, slipping from under your hand, though you don’t stop it, coming to a stop over your abdomen.

You swear your heart stops as you feel the heat of his palm just beneath your belly button. Fingertips toying at the hem of your sweats, so close to slipping beneath the fabric.

“Thinking I don’t know you’re watching my every move, where your eyes linger a bit too long.”

He chuckles into your neck the tip of his nose traces along the length of skin. His lips find your pulse and he laughs softly as you whine, distantly you catch that the song has looped. The deep bass starting again. “Not that I mind.” 

“Who wouldn’t watch you,” a breathless retort as Hobi smiles, considering you in the mirror for a moment.

His eyes shine and then his smile turns sinister, his nuzzle pauses and then he’s biting your neck. A shriek of pain leaves you and you leap from his grip. He lets you get away, though by the clench of his fingers you sense he didn’t want to let you go that easily.

The distance helps, your mind clearing as you turn backing up into the studio mirror wall. Pressing yourself against the cool surface, fingers finding the bite mark on your neck. Pulse hammering against your fingertips.

The jolt of pain ebbs into a lingering throb. One that doesn’t help the pulse between your legs. It makes you want to tense your thighs to relieve the ache there. 

Leveling a look at Hoseok trying to get your bearings. He’s quiet, those eyes shadowed by his long bangs, you see his jaw shift as he considers you. You're teetering on the edge of something. Backed up to the cliff's edge and you're not sure if you’re ready to plunge off.

“Hoseok–” 

“If you don’t want this, I’ll stop.” 

His voice is soft, beneath the croon of Hozier’s voice, for a moment he looks like the Hobi you’re used to. The one you can handle. The friend who is always eager to laugh, the one you fall into easy conversation with, the one you figured would never consider you like he is now. 

“I–” your voice hitches, confusion clouding your mind as your fingers trace the mark of his teeth in your flesh.

You lean your head back, your head meets the mirror with a soft thud, the music swells again, eyes closed as you consider for a moment what continuing this means. 

I won’t lie, if there’s something still to take

There is ground to break, whatever’s still to come

You don’t hear him move over the thrumming bass. He cages you in, his hands rest above your shoulders as he encompasses you. His breath is warm as it glides over your face. 

Your eyes flutter open and take in the man before you. The chiseled perfection that is his face, the sharp jut of his chin, the soft rounded apples of his cheeks.

His lips, usually pulled in that sweet heart-shaped smile are drawn together in a firm line as those dark eyes watch you from under the curled mess that is his bangs. He’s still in his practice outfit, the same baggy t-shirt, and even baggier sweats. They overwhelm the lithe frame that you’ve so badly wanted a chance to see. 

It makes you want to squirm away to avoid his gaze as you’ve always done, he leans down nose brushing against yours. 

“Don’t hide away from me, I’m tired of trying to make you look.” 

His voice is soft and your heart stutters. As you look at him, truly look at him. The longing in those dark eyes, the downturn of his lips. The little freckle on his cupid’s bow.  You want him, hell you’ve wanted him since the day you took the neon pink flier from his painted fingers. 

“Hoseok, I–I want you–” 

It’s like you’ve opened the floodgates, he’s dropping down lips finding yours in the dim red glow of the lights. At first the kiss is soft, like he’s worried you’ll change your mind, pull away that you spoke before you could voice what you really wanted to say.

But no, you press into the kiss. Slot your lips against his with a fervor you haven’t felt for someone in years. Your fingers thread through the curled locks of his hair, pulling him closer. 

He groans into your lips, tongue slipping out to trace the bottom, asking entrance which you easily grant. The way his tongue swirls into your mouth has you whining, knees locking as your mind thinks for a moment how that tongue would feel against your clit. Which gives a painful throb in response. 

His tongue dances with your own, easily slipping along the appendage with ease, he chuckles as your tongue chases him as he pulls back. He presses closer, body molding to yours as you press back against the mirror. 

He huffs softly into the curve of your neck, where he bit you only moments before. He chuckles and presses a kiss into the mark. 

“Sorry, heard the lyrics and, well, I couldn’t help myself–” 

Your fingers pull on his locks still trapped in their grip, the groan that leaves his chest makes you shiver. His eyes roll in their sockets as they look up at you, with his jaw dropping you whine seeing the tip of his tongue trace the path along his bottom lip. 

“Hobi, please–” 

“Please what?” He teases, his hands sliding down the mirror back to your hips where he presses you against the wall.

His thumbs sweep against the joint where hip and thigh meet. His mouth goes back to press kisses against your neck. Finding where you pulse beats and sucking another mark there. 

You feel him smile against your skin as you whine, hands leaving his hair to grasp his shoulders. To move him to do something, because your cunt is empty and aching, and only getting words as his mouth makes new marks along your collarbone and neck. You need something more than just the teasing he’s giving you. 

“Hobi–” 

“Use your words baby, I need to hear what you want.” 

His voice is a muttered groan against your throat as he kisses his way up to your ear. Taking the lobe between his teeth, he huffs a laugh as your nails dig impatiently into his shoulders. 

“Want to feel you, need to feel you–fuck,” you don’t know what you want to say, though your hips pressing into the palms of his hands are an indication that you need friction.

He sucks on the shell of your ear, nipping the cartilage and smirking when you moan softly. 

“Then be a good girl, and listen,” his voice is soft, and your eyes meet his as he pulls back. Hobi is gone, back is the Hoseok who makes every muscle in your body tremble after a hard dance practice. The one that makes you shiver. “Turn around, face the mirror.” 

He pulls back, his warmth leaving your skin makes you tremble, but you’re quick to comply. Turning and pressing yourself to the mirror, hands level with your shoulders. Your legs spread shoulder width apart. You risk a glance up in the mirror.

Hoseok stands back observing you, eyes traveling down the exposed flesh of your back, eyes lingering on the curve of your hip, that disappears into the baggy expanse of your sweats. Before they drag back up and meet your gaze in the mirror. You’re quick to look away. 

“Uh uh, no looking away tonight baby, eyes on me.” 

You know he means it, the threat is clear in his voice, and all you want is for Hobi to touch you, to do something. So with reluctance your eyes come back up, meeting his gaze even as it makes you squirm. 

“Good girl, listening so well.” 

You preen at his praise, half tempted to spread your legs wider, but you resist as he returns to press against you. His lithe body molds, again so perfectly, into the curves of your own.

His hands find purchase on your hips, slipping forward to a stop over the ties of your sweats. His index finger curls the tie around toying with the simple knot.

Your gaze is still locked with Hoseok's in the mirror, watching his lips pull into another smirk as he leans forward pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Eyes never leaving yours as your hips press back into his, feeling the weight of a bulge between the globes of your ass. He lets out a grunt, grinding himself into you.

A breathy laugh leaves him. 

“So eager, aren’t you?” 

He whispers into your ear the hand not toying with your sweats, drifts higher. Fingers trace patterns along the curve of your waist stopping to tease the edge of your sports bra. The material is thin, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you as his finger traces up the swell of your breast.

The tip of his finger finding your nipple and swirling around the bud. He groans into your neck as he feels the flesh pebble beneath his touch. His lips and teeth attack your neck and shoulder. Marking the skin with nips, and then soothing the sting with his tongue and lips. 

His hand gropes at your breast enjoying the softness of your flesh as it molds to his hand. 

“Hoseok,” your voice is soft, a needy whine as your fingers flex against the mirror surface and your eyes watch his hands. Wanting so badly for him to loosen the tie, to slip beneath the waistband and delve lower. 

“What baby?” He mumbles into your ear giving the lobe another nip which you gasp at the pain of, your hips press back and you smile as he moans into your hair the bulge growing as he toys with you. “What do you want?” 

“Please, fuck, your fingers–” your plea is silenced by another bite, this one sinking into the meat of your shoulder. A wispy whine leaves you, and Hoseok soothes the mark with another kiss. 

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.” 

Another command and you obey. 

“Need to feel your fingers on my cunt, or just fuck - in my cunt, please,” the noise he makes has your knees locking, fingers curling, nails scraping against glass.

It’s like lighting a match, his fingers yank the tie, the hem of your sweats sag, loose enough he’s able to slip under the fabric. 

He cups your mound, the moan that leaves you is guttural, your body humming with need. Gasping as he cups you through your panties. The thin fabric soaked, his finger easily toying with your clit through the cotton barrier. 

“Fuck, if I’d known you were this wet, wouldn’t have taken my time.” 

He breaths into your ear, the tip of his finger swirling in indiscernible patterns around your clit. The friction is nice, but his touches are soft, delicate.

Not what you need even as you whine and attempt to grind into his hand. The hand at your breast teases and pinches your nipple. The pleasure and pain mingle in your mind. Your eyelids flutter closed as your fingers curl against the mirror. 

“Eyes,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Ever obedient you obey, eyes peeling open, finding his dark hazel gaze. Your innards stir, cunt clenching as you take in Hoseok’s appearance. 

His hair is disheveled, the brown locks curling around his face, the bangs sweeping over his brow, giving him a shadowed look.

Darkening his eyes, sending another throb of need through you, as his intense gaze burns every inch of you. 

His tongue flicks out every now and again wetting his bottom lip as he presses more kisses along the expanse of your shoulders. He leaves marks in his wake, the spots sting, but Hoseok is always quick to soothe them with a soft kiss or a kitten lick of his tongue.

You know you’ll be covered in his marks by the time he’s done. It makes your cunt flutter at the thought and you moan, pressing your forehead to the mirror.

You find Hoseok again, his gaze still locked onto yours. In the red glow of the lights he looks otherworldly, the shadows of his face almost black against the blood red of the highlights.

A demon you’d happily sell your soul to for nothing if only to gaze at his face a bit longer. 

You're pulled out of your musings when Hoseok’s fingers with a quick flick push aside the barrier of your panties to finally touch your clit. The soft stroke of his finger along the neglected bud has you keening. The sudden spike of pleasure makes you jolt away from the sudden onslaught.

But Hoseok’s prepared for your retreat pressing you up against the mirror, he traps your hips with his own. The hand at your breast moves to grasp at your hip, pinning you to him. Huffing a laugh into the column of your throat giving the skin there another bite. 

“No running away either,” he growls, his finger traces along the hood of your clit, before delving lower and pressing against the bud. The pleasure zaps through you, your cunt gushes, your knees quiver as you buck into his hand with another yelp of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Hoseok–” 

“Feel good?” He asks, watching his lips pull into a wicked smile as you mewl and pant against the mirror. Breath fogging over the smooth surface. The chill of it helps to alleviate some of the heat coming from both of you.

His pattern changes again, pressing again on your clit as your cunt throbs and your breath comes out in a quivering pant. 

“Yes–fuck yes, feels so good–”

Hoseok presses more against you, rutting his hips into your ass, the hard length of his shaft nestled perfectly between the globes of your ass. He pants softly into your ear nuzzling another kiss into the corner of your jaw. Groaning as you press back into him meeting his every movement. 

“Fuck baby, feel so good and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” 

You whine in reply as his fingers venture lower, the feeling of his finger slipping into your folds teasing your wet opening. He chuckles into your neck. 

“So fucking wet,” he whispers and you feel his lips sucking another mark onto your neck. Another gush of slick and Hoseok groans.

“What do you want?” 

“Please–” 

“Words, baby, I need to hear you say it.” 

“Need your fingers in me, please, please stop teasing–” 

He doesn’t wait for your plea to finish thrusting one long finger into you, your plea dies with a soft whine. He starts a slow steady pace, your cunt fluttering around his finger.

Just when you think you’re used to the first finger he adds another, your hips grind into his hand and his hips. All of his focus on fucking you open with his fingers. 

“F–fuck, so tight,” the whisper of his voice makes your cunt clench, the twitch of his cock against your ass makes you moan. Your eyes struggle to stay open, as Hoseok’s own bore into you, watching the way your jaw drops open your eyes roll back as the tip of his finger rubs just right against that spongy spot deep in your cunt again and again and again.

The heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every thrust. 

“Fuck Hoseok, fuck your fingers feel so good–” You babble, every thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The one you’ve been hanging on to for the last hour.

Hoseok presses closer, feeling the way your body tenses, the way your walls tighten around his fingers, and feels the warm slick dripping down his fingers, and your thighs, soaking your sweats. 

“You gonna come, huh?” 

He rasps against your ear pressing a kiss to the shell, the sounds of his voice makes your cunt flutter again. As his fingers thrust in again, he scissors the digits, there's a hint of pain cutting through the pleasure, but it only serves to push you closer.

As you gasp, fingers scramble against the mirrored wall. You whine, pressing desperately against him, he responds in kind, rutting his clothed cock against you harder.

“I’m so close, please,” your voice is a soft mewl as your hips grind desperately into his hand. Hoseok’s voice is breathless as he speeds up his hand. The wet noise of his fingers fucking you open mingle with the song still looping, again and again. 

“Come for me,” he growls, fingers flexing into your hip, and his teeth find the meat of your shoulder again.

The sound of his command, the tension breaks, your body stills mouth dropping open in a silent cry as your body twitches. Cunt quivering around his fingers as he fucks you through your release. He groans, fingers slowing, the heel of his palm coming to rest against your oversensitive clit. 

You let out a soft whine, as his palm grinds against you, fingers curling and rubbing against your walls. You pant, coming down from your high, finding Hoseok watching you in the mirror. 

“Fuck, so pretty when you come.” 

His praise makes you embarrassed, you go to hide from him again. The hand on your hip is quick grasping your chin and keeping you pinned beneath his gaze. 

“No hiding,” his fingers flex against your neck. You shiver finding his dark gaze, those deep pits devouring you whole. As you greedily do the same.

“Hoseok,” you whisper his name, and he groans softly pressing into you. His fingers still buried in your cunt, the movement makes you gasp. Still sensitive from your first climax. “Hoseok, fuck me, need to feel you–” 

He doesn’t let you finish, his fingers turn your head enough that he’s able to press a messy kiss to the corner of your lips. You follow his lead, pressing messy, needy kisses to his lips, wanting badly to reach more of him. But he only allows so much movement from your prone position against the mirror.

You jolt as his fingers slip from you, how empty your cunt feels without them. His hand leaves your neck, slipping down your back to grasp at the hem of your sweats, the other hand still wet with your slick goes to your other hip. 

With a quick jerk your sweats and panties are pulled down, you gasp into Hoseok’s kiss as your cunt is exposed to the cool of the room. His foot slips between yours and with a soft nudge he coaxes your legs further apart.

You try to ignore that you can feel the slick clinging to your folds, and trails of it dripping down your thighs, you're still soaked and quivering for more. 

Hoseok’s hands leave you for a moment, the soft rush of fabric, and then the heat of his cock settles between your ass cheeks again. He’s big and your eyes flutter at the thought of him filling you, Hoseok chuckles against your lips. 

“What’s going on in that mind baby?” 

You whine, pressing another messy kiss into his lips, as his hands find their way back to your hips, one slipping forward and finding your clit again to trace soft patterns into the bud.

“Need your cock, fuck, need it so bad Hoseok,” you gasp into his mouth, tongue slipping out to trace along his bottom lip, his own slips out to tangle with yours. He doesn’t reply, instead he maneuvers you both.

Backing up he pulls at your hips. Your front still pressed to the mirror, this new position forces your back to bow, and your legs spread, cunt all but on display for him. 

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, a groan of appreciation as his hands wander over the curve of your ass, and his fingers toy again with your weeping folds. You whine and buck into his hands. Wanting so badly to be filled again.

Hoseok chuckles before sliding behind you again.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel the head of his cock press between your folds. A sharp smack to your ass has you jolting, a pained grunt leaving you as your eyes snap open to glare at Hoseok, who gives you a wide smirk back.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Eyes. On. Me.” 

He gives a smack to your ass, punctuating every word, your ass cheeks sting from his strikes, soft needy whimpers leave you. Hoseok groans as he feels more slick drip onto his cock. 

“Gonna fuckin wreck you, baby,” he huffs and you nod, he presses in, the head of his cock stretches you like his fingers couldn’t.

A moan catches in your throat has he takes his time, fucking into you inch by slow inch. Feeling every quiver, throb and flutter of your cunt around him. Hoseok is panting above you as he finally bottoms out. He’s thick, his cock filling you deliciously full. 

Your eyelids flutter, but you refuse to look away, watching as Hoseok’s jaw drops, the groan that leaves him as he fucks fully into you. The delicious sensations overwhelming him for a moment as your cunt clenches around him. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck you feel so good,” he pauses, whether to let you adjust to him or to just feel you.

You don’t know, his fingers flex, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he presses himself into you.

“Fuck–wanted this for so long.”  

His mumble has you jolting, but before you can ask him what he means, his hands grasp your hips, fingertips digging into soft fat, finding purchase as he pulls out. Slow again, you both groan as the wet sounds of your coupling fill the room.

Your cunt clenches around him, needing him to fill you again. He pulls out till only the head remains inside, before fucking back in. Faster now that you're used to him. The slap of his hips against your ass echoes in the practice room. 

“Fuck, Hoseok, please, faster–need you to fuck me,” you beg him, tired of the foreplay. You need him to destroy your cunt. Need to feel that unhinged energy you’d witnessed so many times in class, been so close to tasting in the year you’d been dancing with him.

“Don’t have to tell me twice baby,” he growls, and it’s all he needs.

His grip tightens on your hips and his lips bare his teeth in a feral snarl as his hips set a fast, rough pace. 

He fucks into you with the abandon you’ve seen him dance with.

Taking his lower lip between his teeth as he thrusts hard and fast. Jolting you against the mirror, Hoseok pants and grunts with every thrust. 

“Fuck look at you,” he mutters, voice a panted growl as he fucks harder into you. The length of his cock fills you again and again. The head of his cock grinding just right against your soaked walls.

“Look so good up against the mirror creaming all over my cock, fuck knew you’d look so pretty getting fucked on my cock.” 

His words has your cunt gushing, and you answer his praise with little mewls and moans as he fucks you stupid against the mirror. His cock strokes against every part of your cunt, as he fucks you full.

The slap of his hips against your ass punctuate between lulls in the music. Your skin glows with sweat, your back arches as you press your hips back to meet his thrusts. 

Moaning, and crying as he fucks you. Hoseok answers your noises with grunts and growls of his own. Gasping when your cunt flutters around him, signaling you're close again. Hoseok wants to bring you there again, to watch your body give everything to him. 

“You close baby?” He growls between thrusts as his fingernails bite halfmoon marks into your skin. The pain only serves to pull you deeper into pleasure. 

“Yes, fuck, yes–I’m soclose–”

He leans over your form one arm wrapping around your waist, the other placing a hand above you on the mirror, and with another quick kiss to your shoulder he ups his pace. Fucking into you with a speed none of your previous partners had ever reached.

Your climax hits you suddenly, as his hips piston in and out of you, you come around his cock with a sudden broken cry. Your cunt convulsing around his cock as he fucks you through your second orgasm of the night, his hand slithers down between your legs finding your clit.

Rubbing the little bundle of nerves you keen. 

“Fuck! Hoseok!” Your body writhes attempting to get away from the sudden onslaught of pleasure as he keeps pistoning into your abused cunt. The pleasure rises again suddenly as your knees lock, and Hoseok’s cock throbs in your still pulsing cunt.

He gasps, as your cum again, sudden and blinding, white flashing before your eyes as you writhe in the prison that is his body. Warmth drips down your legs, and onto his. 

“Fuck–” Hoseok groans as his cock twitches in your cunt, the warmth of his release painting your walls. He buries himself inside of you, both of you softly moaning as you feel his come fill you. 

Your body shudders as you both remain there, your legs quivering, the only thing keeping you up at the moment is Hoseok’s solid arm around your waist. Muscles screaming for rest. Your mind rebooting as you process what the fuck just happened. 

Hoseok’s breath is warm as he remains hunched over you. His cock softening, as it weeps the last few drops of his release into you. When he pulls out you both gasp, you shiver as you feel the mixture of your releases leak from your abused cunt.

Hoseok pulls back from you.

There’s the rustle of fabric, Hoseok tucking himself back into his own sweats. You linger for a moment, your body unwilling to move just yet. Also, unwilling to look at Hoseok head on.

The sounds of his footsteps going to the cabinet. The bass of the song interrupted as he pauses your phone. He’s brought the original lights back on as the darkness behind your eyelids brightened.

You know you need to address whatever the hell just happened, but another part of you just wants to bury your head in the sand. Not think about this, maybe move to an entirely new town.

You jolt as you feel Hoseok’s hands on your sweats, pulling them up and covering you from the chill of the room. You don’t mind that your panties will be ruined…hell your sweats probably are too. 

“Come on, you gotta open your eyes at some point.” 

He speaks softly as he finishes getting your sweats back to their original position, you almost want to play dumb. You can keep your eyes closed as long as you want. But you also just want to get this over with.

Opening them you finally look at Hoseok in the mirror. 

He’s watching you, though this time not like before. Those soft hazel eyes looking at you like he’s waiting for the worst to happen.

You blink before turning around to actually look at him, he’s standing a bit back from you. Hands twisting behind him, so different from the Hoseok you’d very much just enjoyed fucking moments before. 

“Listen–” 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Hoseok shuts you up before you could even formulate a sentence. You blink at him, speaking before thinking. 

“What do you mean you’ve–” 

“Since I handed you the flier and you started coming to class.” 

He looks guilty, like he just pressured you into something, for a second your mind stalls, because you are a grown adult and you wholeheartedly consented to what just happened.

You don’t think as you step forward to press a kiss to his mouth, one he is quick in reciprocating. His hands find their way back to your hips as his tongue swirls with yours. You pull back your mind going fuzzy again. Your cunt is already wet at the thought of another round.

“I wanted to do that too, but fuck Hobi, you could have been a bit more obvious–” 

“Obvious!? I was all over you in class, my dances got a lot more risque when I knew you were watching.” 

You jolt, blinking up at him with something akin to the surprise Pikachu face. Hobi can’t stop the sudden laugh at your expression. But you’re melting into his hands as his thumbs rub circles into your hip bones. Your fingers clutch onto his arms as you blink owl-like in your confusion. 

“You…were?” 

“Oh my gosh girl,” he laughs leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours. “I was trying so hard for you to see me.” 

“Hobi I see you, you’re all I see, your dancing, your laugh…everything.” 

 Both of you standing in the middle of the dancefloor. Just ruminating on what’s been spoken. His hands are warm, as he pulls you closer nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head. Your arms wrap around his waist. 

“So…where do we go from here?” You mumble into the warmth of his chest.

He smells wonderful, the musk of his sweat mixed with the heady spice of his cologne. You would stay here forever if you could. You sense he’s about to answer, but the loud gurgle of your stomach interrupts.

The laugh that leaves both of you echoes in the dance studio. You look up and meet those hazel eyes again, as he shoots you a wide heart-shaped smile and gives you a soft peck on the forehead.

“Let’s eat first and then we can figure out the heavy stuff, though I recall you stating your undying love to me if I got you jajangmyeon.”

His smile somehow widens as you laugh, fully intent on showing him how appreciative you are for the jajangmyeon, and for everything else.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #j hope x reader #j hope x you #jung hoseok smut #j hope smut #j hope #bts fanfic #j hope imagine #jung hoseok #bts x reader #jhope #j hope bts #bangtan jhope #jhope fanfic

[alkalinefrog]

Hey Alka, I had a quick question for you (whenever you have the time to answer or even if you have the time), I've been taking some storyboard classes and with my illustration background, it's been hard to really find a good shorthand for characters to really get that anatomy/gesture looking right without it being too sketchy and unreadable.

How long did it take you to find your storyboard shorthand, and what exercises would you recommend to try to find it? I'm sure it just takes time and practice, I've been doing a lot more studies and gesture drawings (currently following along all the free Glenn Vilppu videos I can find on youtube) but I wanted to ask you as well because I am in love with how fluid your anatomy is, and how clear your storyboards read. And those hands my god you're a wizard!!!

Thanks a bunch, have a wonderful day!

Heya Secret, great to hear from ya! Well, what you don’t see online is how gross the rough stage of my boards can get LMFAO. Most of the boards I post are actually overly cleaned up because I'm just doing them for fun and can afford the time! I'm not really sure how long it took to develop my shorthand, I've never really enjoyed drawing detail to begin with, so when I decided to go into boarding I kinda just leaned into it!

I’ve covered a bunch of gesture drawing exercises already if you scroll through my advice tag, but ***once you have a good foundation*** here's some stuff you can try!

First you'll want to build up an arsenal of anatomy hacks you can always fallback on, particularly for complex parts of the body. The less time you spend on details, the more time you have to focus on the overall pose and storytelling. Aim to find ways to draw with as FEW lines as possible. If I had to make a list to streamline what to practice:

Head shapes - find the most efficient way to draw the front + 3/4 + side view in as few lines as possible (the challenge is still making them look structured with dimension)

Eyes - are SO important for expressions! Unless your project has characters with dot eyes, you're going to need to find a quick way to do the circle and iris in as few lines as possible. Make sure you can convey where they're looking

Hands - fists (you'll be drawing a lot of people holding poles), open palms at various angles, foreshortened fingers pointing at viewer, fingers making grabby motions----protips: 1) half the time all you need is a vague triangle/rectangle plus thumb sticking up and that's a hand 2) if the hand is relaxed, you probably don't need to draw the knuckles. Save some time!

Feet - just learn how to make sure they look like they're standing on the ground, and do some studies of what they look like when you're running. Otherwise you can usually get away with a vague shoe or boot shape (just add toe lines if they're not wearing any)

----everything else you'll practice as you go!

Jump from SUPER rough straight into clean boards to really force yourself to be economic. I've done each of these methods for work before:

Before you start boarding with a character, sketch them a few times with the intention of simplifying their design while keeping them recognizable:

You'd be surprised how little you need to recognize a character:

Depending on the scene, you can adjust how much detail you want to include:

Stay loose/more generalized with action, especially for the "inbetweens" between key poses. Clean up enough to communicate movement and make the character recognizable.

If the character's small on screen in a wide shot, edit out most details and focus on the silhouette

Save the detail work for character acting, when you really want to be specific with their expressions and gestures.

But outside of all that, be bold and fearless!! Everyone has that stage where their boards look like spaghetti! Boarding is like handwriting; you could have really shitty chicken scratch, but if you're writing beautiful poetry, who cares!

god I love drawing hands you don’t even know thank you so much!! Good luck dude!! You’ve more than got this!!

#my art #advice #ask #secretsivekept #you got this! #sorry this took a while! my mental health was in the pits for a solid couple weeks #getting better now though! #storyboards

[adobe-outdesign]

Will your review neopets the same way you review Pokémon? Will you review the beloved. The Korbat.

(I have a few requests for Neopet reviews, so I'll be mixing these in with the Pokemon reviews based on request order.

Neopets are different than Pokemon because you have the base color, which is usually pretty plain, and then dozens upon dozens of paint brush colors. I can't possibly review all the colors in one sitting, so I'll instead just review the base and pick out three of my favorites for that species. If you guys want a specific species + color combo, you can mention it in the requests or request afterward.

Also, no character reviews either, just the pets themselves. Characters can also be requested separately if it's something you guys would be interested in.)

Korbats are—you're not going to believe this—bats. They're fairly standard as far as bats go, but they do have the interesting addition of a long tail, something bats aren't exactly known for. What's really cool is that they use this tail to hang upside-down with, which feels like something bats would do if they did have tails:

(Side note: I love them hanging off the circle like this, but weirdly enough only two unconverted colors had this pose instead of the standard circle pose—not even non-standard body type colors either. Weird.)

I really like how Korbats are white by default, instead of the standard bat black. It gives the basic colors a nice pop of color instead of just making the entire body a single color the way most species of Neopets do. Yellow and red are especially good in this regard because the wing color is accented by the feet and ears respectively.

However, something about Korbats never quite clicked with me personally if I'm being honest, even though I love bats. I think the reason is the face—bats have very distinct noses and sometimes fox-like muzzles, depending on species, but Korbats have Kacheek-like faces and something about them feels kind of generic.

I think conversion doesn't help with this. Korbats benefited from conversion in the sense that their art was very old and dated, but things like adding eyebrows and making the eyes bigger and less dot-like looses something, even if it's technically more in-line with other Neopets. Also, putting the ears behind the heads was a big mistake—now their foreheads look gigantic. Not to say the converted version is bad or anything, as the art itself is a big upgrade, but those subtle tweaks throw it a bit.

Favorite colours:

Candy: I absolutely adore this color. It feels like an apology letter for the Halloween Korbat, which I always thought was pretty mid for the Neopet probably most associated with the color. The candy corn concept is great and the execution is perfect, with the tri-colored wings and tail.

Maraquan: Manta ray! Absolutely perfect concept and a great execution. Love the touch of bubbles under the "wings" to break up an otherwise plain design and help further convey the underwater aspect.

Relic: Another fantastic concept, and they went the extra mile by giving it an extra fierce expression. I also love how weathered the stone looks.

#neopets #neotag #korbat #neopet reviews

[bunnysbrainrot]

Your Rightful Place

Relationship: Crowley x Reader

Content: suggestive language, nudity, sexual content/foreplay

Summary: Years after making friends with the King of Hell, your relationship has taken many strides to get you closer. Now lovers, you feel distant from him as a mere human. Crowley urges you to grow alongside him, pairing the two of you together to become an unstoppable force.

A/N: this was meant to be a smut-free oneshot, but nothing went as planned :P

It was late evening, a glowing moonlight illuminating the floor of Crowley’s master bedroom. You twisted under the silk sheets to face your lover. The two of you had come a long way to get to this point, overcoming many obstacles side by side. It had been tumultuous but worth it. As long as it meant you could be by Crowley’s side to support him.

He gazed at you getting lost in thought, as you often did. A lot more often, lately, though. Crowley smiled knowingly at your slightly furrowed brows and stare intently set on the bed space between you.

“My love,” purred the King. “You seem like you’ve wondered off somewhere.”

Your eyes met his, realizing how deep in your head you had been. Placing a hand on one of his own, you tangled your fingers with his, your tone soft and distant.

“I’m here.”

He raised your conjoined hands and planted a soft kiss across your knuckles. His lips were as soft as the sheets you laid on, the rough stubble around his mouth providing a tickling friction against your skin. You smiled at him and his token of affection.

“You looked like your mind wandered off. Care to clue me in on what’s in that head of yours?” Crowley brushed a loose lock of your hair back to see you fully, framing your face warmly in his hands. Your hand found his again, processing what to say.

“I love you… being with you. What we’ve created and done together, I wouldn’t change for anything,” you started. The King looked at you intently, listening to your every word with earnest.

“Sometimes,” you continued, “I feel like… even though we’re together, and I know that I’m valued. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be equal.”

If Crowley had a true human heart it would’ve broken at your words. Yet, he did understand that pure human emotion: a hint of greed. Or perhaps, that wasn’t that case with you. But he knew humans better, knew that they wanted power. Hell, they had been fighting for it for thousands of years, all creatures had.

Even still, he knew you weren’t a selfish person. At least, not completely self serving. Anything you did was to make yourself stronger to support others. What you said hadn’t surprised him, he could sense that there was much more to you upon meeting all those years ago.

“My darling,” he whispered, “I am…. hundreds of years old. Hundreds. The position I am in was an uphill climb from the start.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer toward him.

“But, being who I am is not easy. I have made decisions, brutal and cruel ones, to have my power. Those kinds of trials… that you would have to endure… it’s not something I would wish upon you.” Though the words struck deep, his voice was kind and sincere.

“I understand. I just,” you cut yourself off, “I think I could do more. Be more than I am. And… I feel like the only way I would do that is with you. Beside you.”

Crowley hummed in acknowledgement as you spoke, raising his eyebrows as he assessed what you said.

“You do realize that you wouldn’t be human anymore, yes? Nothing human has ever matched that level of power. It would be a great toll.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” you replied softly, shifting your head closer to his, lips inches apart. The air between you became thick with tension. Would you dare to say what was truly on your mind?

“What are you on about, darling?” He posed to you.

“You can turn me into a demon. If you need to, if that’s what it takes.”

Crowley wore a new expression of shock, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. Your statement hung in the air, more akin to a declaration. The King grazed his fingers along your back with feather-light touch.

“Sweetness, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“But could it be done?”

“Regardless of that, it could be fatal-“

“Can you do it?”

He froze and gave you a stern look, his eyes flashing with a deadly seriousness, “I won’t.”

A pain spread in your chest as his words hit you. There was simply no way for this to happen, not in a way that he would assist you with.

“Darling, if power is what you long for, there are other ways.”

Though tears pooled and fell past your cheeks, you anticipated what he would say next. His expression hardly edged into anything remotely angry, much to your relief.

“What does that mean…?”

“It means,” he drawled lazily, “that there are other powerful entities out there that don’t require that torture of getting to where they are.”

Wherever he was leading with this you had no clue. The rankings of Hell seemed pretty distinct, but it seemed like Crowley was alluding to something else entirely.

“Have you ever imagined yourself working with potions, herbs, and a bubbling cauldron?” Crowley teased you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“A witch? You’re telling me that being a witch would be equivalent.” Your tone fell flat, unamused at his jest. He offered a shrug. “I didn’t think witches could be all that powerful.”

“Make sure to never say that to my mother, or she’d have you coughing out your insides with a single word,” he huffed out a breath with disbelief. It was true, though. His mother had spent centuries studying and evolving in witchcraft, and it had brought her a virtually eternal life and power beyond anything of a standard human.

“I think it would be worth a try. At the very least, safer than whatever foolishness you were thinking about becoming a demon. But, I still have a feeling that there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

That was also true. Although you had broken the ice on the subject, the deepest truth of it hadn’t been said.

You muttered, “I want to feel worthy of being with you. To be able to help you.”

Crowley rolled over until he hovered above you, his arms framing your shoulders. He lowered himself onto you to meet his face to yours.

“You really think you’re not worthy?” To this, you nodded your head slightly, though he smiled. “My love, I can assure you that the thought had never crossed my mind.

You gave him another unamused stare, “Sure it hasn’t.”

The King simply stared, a smile still plastered to his lips, “You can choose to believe me, or not believe me. But, it’s the truth regardless.”

A moment passed before he spoke again.

“You want to be my Queen, don’t you? Is that what you want?”

You froze beneath him, not sure how to reply. But your silence gave Crowley the answer he needed. Suddenly his lips crashed to yours, moving in a languid rhythm that brought a hum out of you. He broke away enough for your lips to part.

“And what if I did make you Queen? To let you rule by my side, it would be quite the role,” he murmured against your jaw, climbing his way to the soft spot under your ear. You wriggled beneath him at the sensation while a creeping blush spread across your cheeks.

His voice became more gravelly than before, rattling against your neck, “Picture it, sweetheart. You and me… on the throne, the epitome of elegance and power. Yes… I can picture it now.”

As his mind began to wander so did his hands. Crowley rested his weight on one arm while the other was free to roam over you - across your collarbone to your chest, from each perked nipple down to your stomach, stopping just above the tightening between your thighs. You let out a bated breath, once again overcome by his touch. Crowley breathed a laugh against your skin.

“Can you imagine the ways I could fuck you senseless on that throne? I can. And it… is… glorious.”

His mouth moved downward, leaving slow kisses along the way before reaching your breasts. Your back arched into his touch in an attempt for more friction. Crowley let out a laugh against a perk nipple, resting between his lips while his tongue lapped in circles across the bud. A cry fell past your lips.

“It fits, you know,” he muttered against your supple skin, “you being by my side. A Queen. The potential you hold, my dear…”

A stray finger made a path up your thigh, skirting upward to your sex, aching for him. He passed a single digit through your folds, a soft cry falling past your lips at the touch to your swollen clit.

Crowley raised his head from your chest to gaze at you, a longing look in his eyes. He hadn’t looked this entranced in a while, and it was only whenever he was with you. You gave him a breathy smile, your eyes half lidded with lust.

“Yes,” whispered the King, “You would make a perfect Queen.”

He dipped lower toward your thighs, “Absolutely perfect.”

————

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, let me know; I have plans for this to become a series if you would like to see it happen. Happy reading!

#spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spnfandom #supernatural smut #crowley supernatural #crowley x reader #crowley spn

[csoisoi]

Lord Sullivan

character thoughts, buckle in this is a long one

he, is cool

please he's so cool

in his first appearance he's introduced as this demon who just wants a grandson and spoils iruma with whatever

and then you learn he's the chairman of the school, and then he's one of the Three Greats

like grandpa isn't as ditzy as we thought he was??

though with his humor comes with a side of seriousness and competency

usually we see the comedic reliefs, laughs, and funny characters as less competent or we see them as weaker than the other characters, but throughout the series we get some scenes sprinkled in of sullivan getting serious

and we all know how awesome it is to see the happy-goey character get serious

the time where he was taken in for questioning by the demon border control under suspicion of going to the human world, when robin sent the arrow and letter and sullivan needed to go immediately, the arrow literally went through everything and he just held it with two fingers it was so cool

and then when the fireworks happened and were going to crash down on babyls and the students, he stopped them single handedly and just, the way he was drawn in that scene radiates so much power even though it didnt seem like he needed to exert much of it

then in the canon ball execution arc and iruma got the ring and ali was draining everyone's mana, he stopped kalego and just, silenced ali so easily, i love the way he was drawn there too like the pose is so elegant while the ali was so scratchy and messy

and then when he was talking to bachiko after the harvest festival, they were just happy and fluidly talking and then they started talking in the code and the heavyness of that scene

it's SO awesome, the sudden twist in the dialogue boxes, the seriousness of both character's expressions, the way bachiko assumed he was asking her to bring out The bow and it was like she was full on ready to kill someone for him and then the twist in mood AGAIN when he says no and the topic was different from what she assumed

but minus those three scenes, the rest of sullivan's appearances are those of a doting grandfather, silly, makes you smile and wish he was your grandfather

it's really easy to forget how powerful sulli could be

we're impressed and thrilled at the strength the rank 8s, kalego, balam, and opera (though they remain officially unranked they're as strong as the two), imagine what the rank 9s could do, what sullivan could do

but ranking up isnt always power and strength there also has to be some level of knowledge and intelligence and some wisdom as well, but i dont think they just give out ranks so willy nilly to the strongest person in the room, all the highly ranked demons we meet are strong but are also intelligent, cunning, ang wise, because they aren't that highly ranked for no reason

in the heartbreaker exam we see him not as an active hunter but as a thing to be stopped from awakening, kind of scary y'know?? but then we loose sight of sullivan but focus more on the battle with mononoki and the underclassmen and the mana needed to stop sullivan, but not sullivan himself

we even get to see sullivan fake-crying and opera wiping his tears from outside the tank that was rlly funny

but then atori happened, and sullivan's furious

his school hired a teacher who brought deliberate harm to one of his students when babyls' boasted a staff that will guide and nurture students' growth

the way he's drawn going towards atori, it was scary

we even see his eyes for the first time and he was furious, so much anger drawn in his expressions which would usually be covered by his glasses and mustache, instead we see eyes and the expressions he makes are ones of the chairman of babyls, and one of the three greats

shivers down my spine

as much as im scared of this twist in sullivan's mood and personality, im equally as amazed by the duality and well-roundedness of his character. yes he can be a funny doting grandfather but he's still capable of doing THESE things like oh my god

i was gonna go on a tangent on his appearance and character design but i decided to leave it out bc i feel like i'll just be saying random things and not be clear at all so yeah thats it

need or just want a grandfather? sullivan's right here

#csoi posts #csoi talks too much #csois character thoughts #lord sullivan #also i posted this on my ig too everything i post will probably be posted on there and vice versa #mairimashita iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #mairuma #welcome to demon school iruma kun #welcome to demon school #iruma kun #mairuma talks

[thegreatwicked]

Shadows of Deception - Chapter Fifteen

The Great Wicked

Summary: In Gotham City, a world of secrets and danger, Belladonna finds herself embroiled in a web of crime when she becomes a witness to illicit activities at Roman Sions' exclusive club, Masquerade Noir. Instead of eliminating her, Roman sees an opportunity and spares her life, forming an unconventional alliance. They pose as a couple, using each other as alibis to deceive the police. But as they delve deeper into their charade, their connection intensifies, blurring the lines between reality and deception. As desire and danger collide, they discover unexpected love in the midst of a thrilling and forbidden affair.

Rating: Explicit; graphic depictions of sex and violence

Pairing: Roman Sionis/OFC; Belladonna Black, slight Zsasz/OFC if enough interest.

She Knows It by Steven Rodriguez

Roman sat back in a plush chair outside the glass-walled conference room, his dark eyes fixed on the meeting taking place inside. Ever stare at something for too long before your mind just takes it and runs with it? Or you say a word too many times until it loses all meaning? That was how Roman was feeling.

With each passing moment he sat in that chair ‘people watching’ his mind wandered further. The conference room began to look less like a conference room and more like a giant fish tank with its floor-to-ceiling glass walls and bland artwork that was supposed to be thought-provoking but only induced boredom. And let's not forget the generic, mass-produced paintings that were meant to add some color but ended up blending into the beige office walls perfectly. So stimulating.

The ergonomic design of the chairs in the room was reminiscent of strange coral furniture one might find in a fish tank. The potted plants in the corners probably aimed to add some vitality to the sterile environment, which likely saw many long hours and late nights without exposure to any natural stimuli.

Yes, the longer he looked the more it looked like a fish tank. 

The men in their suits became a school of angelfish, drifting aimlessly. The women with their bright colored high fashion frocks like Discus fish effortlessly floating through the water. 

And there, in the center of it all, perched on the table leafing through papers and glancing back at her laptop was Belladonna. Her inky-black hair flowing loosely, cascading down her shoulders like the elegant fins of a betta fish. Dressed in the black jacket, and silver jewelry that Roman had delivered for her that morning made for a striking contrast against that only solidified his odd comparison. Beautiful and elegant. And just like a female beta fish, she seemed to furrow her brow when approached by her male colleagues - he was well acquainted with the difference between her ‘resting bitch face’ and her ‘are you that fucking stupid’ expressions to know that her colegues were not impressing her with theri smart deas. 

Why was he comparing the woman he wanted to fuck to a fish? He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Goddamn it, Cobblepot.” He muttered under his breath, refocusing his attention on the conference room and trying to shake off his annoyance.

Fuck he hated fish.

Roman couldn't understand why people would choose to have fish as pets. 

Fish were about the most ridiculous idea for a pet Roman could think of, but people loved them. Maybe because they were cheap and easy to dispose of when they inevitably died - just a quick flush down the toilet. Some people went for the more exotic options like lionfish, piranhas and even electric eels. But at least those were interesting, lionfish were venomous, electric eels looked scary as fuck and he could certainly see the benefits of having something like piranhas floating nearby. Perfect for getting rid of unwanted guests...or bodies.

Roman didn’t personally like fish. In fact he thought they made horrifically boring bets and he had little interest in pets in the first place. He didn’t even have any as a kid. Though that might have been due to his parents not having any faith in Roman not using them as target practice or something. 

Bit extreme. He didn’t hate animals, he just found them like he found most living things; clingy and annoying. 

He looked back to Belladonna adjusting her glasses and combing a hand through her hair. He liked those glasses on her, he’d have to see if he could convince her to wear a sexy little pencil skirt, then he could live out the sexy librarian thing again, the first time it was for the novelty of it. Not because he particularly liked the woman but hey, a fantasy was a fantasy.

Betafish weren’t boring. 

Hell, females could be so aggressive that they would attack males, nip at them to establish dominance and it could result in injury and even death.

God, he loved a woman who wasn’t afraid to take a bite out of him. It was what he found fascinating about Belladonna, she was afraid of him, no doubt, but she didn’t act like it. Hell, she’d put a gun in his hand and all but dared him to shoot her. Fuck the woman had some balls, her temper flaring like the vibrant fins of a betta.

They were some of the most common fish in aquariums, but commonality didn’t mean less interesting. Hell, diamonds were as common as taxis but that didn’t stop everyone from falling all over themselves saving two months salary for one. Bettas in particular were well liked for their beauty, intelligence and their spunky personalities.

The problem was that most people didn't know how to properly care for them or keep them happy. Instead, they would see these stunning creatures and impulsively buy them, only to place them in tiny fish bowls that were unfit for their needs. Her shabby loft came to mind, a place far below her worth. She'd chosen to keep a low profile, to avoid the limelight that should have been hers. 

Eventually the shimmer in their scales would fade and they’d more than likely be forgotten about. Not Belladonna, she shimmered in a dark room.

Roman blinked, suddenly aware that his mind had been drifting into an almost absurd fantasy about fish. He scowled at the thought, silently cursing Oswald Cobblepot again for filling his head with such useless information. The man had a penchant for talking endlessly about his various collections and interests, and naturally, in his years of knowing Oswald Cobblepot he’d been forced to absorb information about things he didn’t care about whenever they spoke. 

Cobblepot had a thing for penguins and naturally with his collections of oddities at the Cyrus Pinkney Natural History Museum. He also collected seemingly useless information, which he then forced upon Roman in their younger years.

Roman knew far too much about fish for his own personal liking: including tips on how to care for betta fish.

He shook his head, his thoughts went to some strange places when his mind was stagnant like it was currently. 

His fingers tapped impatiently against his leg, the urge to barge into the meeting growing stronger by the second. But he knew she would bear the brunt of those consequences and then he’d be subject to hers. And while Roman was sure he could turn that frustration into something a little more fun with most people, Belladonna wasn’t most people. He sighed, forcing himself to remain seated.

He needed to get a gameboy or something, watching the meeting Belladonna was stuck in wasn’t good for his IQ, he could feel it dropping by the second. And by this point it had to have dropped at least by thirty points, because he’d been waiting for thirty minutes. 

Once he’d focused on their moving lips it had gotten a little bit better, he couldn’t quite read lips but he could make out some words:

"Emergency... Urgent... Expensive… Client… Fired…" Roman whispered under his breath, catching a few words. Roman's eyes flicked to Zsasz, who stood beside him with an air of stoic indifference. "You picking up anything useful?" he asked in a low voice.

“Nope.”

Zsasz shook his head, but Roman wasn’t surprised, he noticed that the man's gaze seemed to be following Belladonna's assistant, Daisy, as she moved around the room. Fair enough, he was Zsasz’s boss, not his goddamned babysitter, it he wanted to eye fuck Daisy; let him. Someone should.

She was too tiny for Romans taste anyway, he liked curves, hips, breasts. Daisy was just too petite for his taste. But judging by the way Zsasz was watching her, it didn’t seem to bother him.

Back to the meeting, it didn’t seem to be wrapping up or getting any better. He knew from the way her brow furrowed and the tenseness in her shoulders that whatever was the topic of discussion wasn’t a very pleasant one. It didn’t look like she was bearing the brunt of anyone's wrath but rather she was trying to untangle a mess. She hadn’t even noticed him there on the chair in the small waiting area and he hadn’t really said or done anything because at first watching her had been somewhat fascinating. Then he made the comparison of the conference room looking like an aquarium and then… Shit. He needed to stop this.

Roman checked his watch again, scowling. Thirty-five minutes now with no sign of the meeting ending. Roman's fingers went back to tapping impatiently on the arm of his chair as he watched Belladonna continue her heated conversation with her boss. 

She threw up her hands, clearly exasperated. His fingers tightened on the armrests of his chair. 

Maybe she finally felt his gaze on her but he seemed to catch Belladonna's attention and she looked at him, he winked at her and she at least smirked at his little flirtatious charm, but she was still clearly strained by the weight of the conversation she was having. 

He knew that look well, it was the look of someone who was surrounded by incompetence or someone who was forced to fix something that wasn’t their problem to begin with. Roman gestured with a nod of his head, urging her to join him outside the conference room. But she only shook her head softly, her expression remaining serious, before turning her attention back to her boss. 

Pulling out his phone, Roman quickly typed a message. 

'Problem, angel?' 

As he hit send, his eyes flicked to Daisy, who often had Belladonna’s cell in her possession, glanced at the notification. She offered Roman a little wave hand, held up a finger then showed the text to Belladonna, and after a brief pause, Belladonna texted back, as her eyes darted back and forth from the phone to whomever was talking 

'Can't talk.'

"Damn it," Roman muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. 

Well, he couldn’t necessarily be angry, it wasn’t like she was ignoring him. But he still wasn’t wild about being sidelined. He wanted her undivided attention, not this nonsense with clients and deadlines. Frustrated but simply too stubborn to quit, he decided to try another approach and texted Daisy instead. 

‘Everything alright, Daisy? Your latte is getting warm.’

She was sitting at the conference table looking up from a laptop then looking at her phone, her eyes met his as she read the message, and she offered Roman and Zsasz an appreciative smile. They could see the tension in her shoulders begin to ease, if only slightly.

She seemed in a far better mood than Belladonna and offered a smile and twirled her finger around her temple to convey the insanity of what was currently happening. Roman chuckled.

‘Everything alright Daisy?’

She looked like she was struggling to put her thoughts into words and after a minute she got up, whispered something to Belladonna, who looked back and forth between Daisy, Roman, and her boss before giving a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"Finally," Roman murmured, as Daisy excused herself from the conference room. 

The moment the door swung open, a cacophony of raised voices spilled out into the waiting room, as predicted, it wasn’t good.

Daisy emerged looking utterly relieved to be free from the chaos within. As she approached Roman, he got to his feet and held out her iced green tea latte, from the way she was looking at the cold drink one might be tempted to think that Roman was holding out a winning lotto ticket. She gratefully accepted the drink and a quick sip seemed to energize her a bit.

​​"Thank you," Daisy said gratefully, wrapping her hands around the cold cup and taking a long sip. Her expression softened, and she let out a frazzled breath, trying to shake off the tension that clung to her like a second skin.

Zsasz watched the exchange with an amused glint in his eyes, leaning casually against the wall. He gave Daisy a playful wink, which elicited a small smile from her before Roman's deep voice cut through the lingering tension.

“Daisy, Daisy… What’s got my girls so worked up?” She smiled at Romans' endearing ‘his girls’ note. “Bad day?”

She shook her head, “It’s one for the books, that’s for sure.” She took another sip, “Falls into the category of ‘its not our fault but it is our problem’ kind of thing.”

"What's going on?" Roman asked, charming concern coloring his voice.

"It's been absolute chaos since this morning," She began, sweeping a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Long story short, we had a huge post-fashion week photo shoot scheduled with the Gotham Literary Society, but there was some sort of paperwork snafu with the permits. Now we're out of a location and scrambling to find one to accommodate the client."

“Yes, I read about that, the site’s just been restored after a two year long renovation.” Roman added casually. Daisy nodded and emphatically gestured with her hand in confirmation as she took another sip of her coffee.

“Exactly! We need to find another location by tomorrow or we might lose the client, Lauren is pissed and well, everyone is scrambling to figure something out." She explained, frustration creasing her brow. "Her bosses are breathing down her neck, which means she’s breathing down our necks. There's talk that if we lose this client, several people might lose their jobs. It’s literally no one’s fault but someone’s gotta pay, right?" She glanced back at the conference room, worry etched in her features. "We're trying to find a place for the shoot, but it's practically impossible because most popular locations are booked already and have been for months. It's the week after fashion week, after all."

“Big client?” 

“Huge,” She looked around and lowered her voice, “Adrian Blackwood.” Romans face lit up in recognition. “He just debuted his entire collection and lets just say he had other offers for people to work with, we need to figure this thing out but we’re running out of time. He’s expecting the details to be confirmed by the end of the day which is officially in,” She paused and looked at her watch, “Six hours. Any place worth booking is booked out and any place available isn’t worth the trouble.”

"Are you or Belladonna's jobs at risk?" Roman's concern for their well-being was palpable, his fingers tapping against the side of his leg as he awaited Daisy's response.

She hesitated, biting her lip. "I'm not sure. Belladonna might be okay, but I can't say the same for myself. Assistants get fired all the time, we’re a dime a dozen but I’m pretty sure Belladonna would march out with me while giving them all the stiffest middle finger ever.”

Roman scoffed, of that, he had no doubts. Despite Belladonna’s claims of not having any friends, she was loyal, he’d only recently seen just how loyal.

"We can't have that," He said, shaking his head. He looked back at the chaotic conference room, his gaze finding Belladonna's once more. Roman furrowed his brow in thought before an idea struck him. "Daisy, I think I can help," He declared. "Tell her to come speak with me."

Daisy seemed uncertain, glancing between Roman and the ongoing chaos inside the meeting room. She took a deep breath, seemingly weighing the potential consequences, briefly opening her mouth to try and argue but Roman insisted and his tone of confidence seemed to convince Daisy it was worth the interruption. Finally, she shrugged, an air of ‘fuck it’ in her demeanor. 

"What's the worst that could happen?" With that, she turned on her heel and made her way back into the lion's den to relay Roman's message to Belladonna.

Again when the doors opened the tense tone of their words floated out, she whispered to Belladonna who looked between Roman and Daisy, confusion evident on her face. He was pretty sure she was telling Daisy she wasn’t going anywhere but Daisy appeared insistent. And she must have convinced her because Belladonna let out a sigh, rolled her shoulders and reluctantly approached her boss. 

They talked for a minute and her boss didn’t look very happy, clearly unimpressed by Roman's presence, waved her hand dismissively. But after a minute and some vague gesturing with her hands she conceded and Belladonna strode out of the conference room, back rigid and heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. Roman watched her approach, noting the tension in her shoulders and the tight set of her jaw. She wasn’t happy by any means, though she was doing her best to conceal it but the irritation was simply radiating off her.

"Ok, Daisy said you needed to talk to me. Make it quick, Roman, I’m kind of in the middle of something." She snapped, her patience wearing thin.

“I can see that,” He wore something of a smug smile and after a silence long enough to start to get on her nerves, he spoke again before she could bite back with something smart. "Daisy was just telling me about your little predicament. It seems you're in need of a new location for your photoshoot, and quickly.”

"Yes," she replied tersely, impatience and exasperation seeping through her words. "But can we please get to the point? My boss is already in a pissy mood and I’m pretty sure I’m next on the chopping block if I don’t get my ass back in there."

"Question?" He said, clearly not bothered by her eagerness to wrap up their conversation.

"Fine, what's your question?" His leisurely questioning was starting to grate on her nerves, and she couldn't help but glance back to her boss, who seemed to be keeping a watchful eye on their conversation.

"Am I a joke to you?" Roman tilted his head looking both disappointed and confused. Sort of reminded her of a puppy with its ears half up and half down trying to suss out a high-pitched sound.

Belladonna stared at him, confused. "What?”

"Use my club," 

Belladonna stared at Roman, her dark eyes wide in surprise. "Use your club?" Momentarily thrown off balance by his unexpected offer.

"Yes," he said, his voice low and smooth. "It's mine to do with as I see fit, it’s empty during the day, and should have more than enough space to accommodate your shoot. You can use the space however you need.” Roman smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “and you can vouch for its legitimacy since it's up-to-date with all the necessary permits and licenses."

"Would that help?" he asked, a hint of smugness creeping into his voice.

"Yes, it would," Belladonna admittedly a bit lost for words

She hesitated, shifting on her feet. The offer would solve all her problems for the shoot and might even put her in a better spot for work. She’d obviously need to run it by her boss.

As if reading her mind, Roman gestured towards the conference room.

"Go. Run it by your boss." Roman said with a playful flick of his wrist, shooing her away as if she were a mischievous cat lingering too long by the cream. His dark eyes twinkled with amusement at her hesitation, a side of him few got to witness. "Do you need a slap on that gorgeous ass to get you moving?"

Her eyes flashed with something sharp, but she bit back a retort and turned on her heel, striding back toward the conference room before Roman could follow through with what she hoped was only a joke. As she spoke to her boss, he could see the shock register on her boss’s face. She glanced at Roman, then back to Belladonna then back to Roman, who allowed himself a triumphant smile, knowing he was about to be the hero.

Belladonna motioned for Roman to join them, trying not to let her surprise – or her gratitude – show too openly. As he stepped through the door, the room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. All eyes were on him, but this time, he was not the source of any problems. In fact, he was the solution – a role that felt surprisingly gratifying. With his charming smile and easy manner, he greeted Belladonna's boss.

“Ms. Preston, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” His smooth tone eased the tension in the room as effectively as a tranquilizer. 

"Mr. Sionis, this is a pleasant surprise," Laura said, her demeanor considerably improved as she reached out to shake Romans’ outstretched hand. 

“Oh, please, Roman is fine.” 

"Belladonna here, tells me you're interested in leasing out your club for our shoot." She crossed her arms over her chest, head tilted as though she wasn’t sure she bought it. 

Surely there had to be more to it, right? 

“Leasing? Oh, not at all. Can’t have a face this gorgeous wearing anything other than a smile.” Roman's gaze drifted to Belladonna before turning back to Laura. "I'm more than willing to assist, by providing my space free of charge," He responded smoothly. "It won't be a problem."

Laura was one of the most assertive people Belladonna knew, never one to be told what to do, never one to let a man swoop in and save the day… Yet, here they were… Either the situation was worse than Belladonna had initially thought and Laura couldn’t afford to lose this client, or her boss too, was drawn in by Romans’ charm, she wouldn’t be the first or the last. Hell, it happened to Belladonna more times than she could count.

Laura eyed Roman skeptically, her expression guarded "So let me get this straight, Mr. Sionis. You're offering us the use of your club; one of the most exclusive night spots in Gotham for our shoot, free of charge?"

Roman nodded, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips. "That's correct, Laura. Consider it my contribution to the arts."

Laura shook her head incredulously. "Well, I'm afraid I can't accept your offer without some form of compensation. Your club is a prime location, and we can't just take advantage of it for free." Laura stood clicking her pen several times as she contemplated her next move. "But, you know, Roman," She began, "I think we could generate some fantastic publicity for your club through the shoot. If you’re unwilling to accept monetary compensation, maybe some good publicity in the fashion industry might suffice."

"Oh? How so?" 

A smirk played on his lips as if he didn’t understand what Laura was proposing, he knew damn well. But he was at least smart enough to know that he had to let her feel like she had a say in this whole thing.

"Well, I have it on good authority that the designer behind the collection is a huge fan of your club. Since your club would be the backdrop it seems wholly inappropriate if we don’t see the man of the hour. And I happen to know for a fact that the designer has a fantastic piece that only a man like yourself could do justice to.” Roman's ego swelled at the thought of being part of a fashion shoot. “It would be great exposure for both the club and the collection."

"I like the sound of that," he replied, nodding thoughtfully. "But one condition."

Laura raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what's that?"

"Belladonna does the shoot," Roman declared, his gaze drifting to where Belladonna stood, sorting through fabric samples. "She's got the skill, the eye. She'll be perfect."

Belladonna's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden turn of events. She opened her mouth to object, but before she could speak, Laura cut in.

"I think that's a fantastic idea," Laura said, flashing a quick smile at Belladonna. "It would add a personal touch to the campaign. We all know Belladonna has quite the eye for male beauty,"

Belladonna hesitated for a moment, then nodded, reluctantly agreeing. She knew she didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Great," Roman said, extending his hand. "It's settled then."

"On behalf of the entire team, thank you, Roman. And I look forward to the proofs,” She turned to Belladonna, “Don’t let me down, Belladonna. This goes well and I think you’ll have earned that bonus we talked about.”

“You got it, Laura,” She replied coolly.

“Alright, then let’s go make the client happy, I'll let him know about the change of venue, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Roman offered her a card from his jacket pocket.

Roman extended his hand, sealing the agreement with a firm handshake. "My pleasure, Laura. I hope you’ll find time to stop by, and if your client has any questions, don't hesitate to give them my card. I'm always happy to accommodate."

As the bubble of stress burst open like a fragile balloon, the aquarium fish seemed to have taken a cue swimming away. Daisy wrapped Roman in a hug that could rival the strength of an ant and crowned him a lifesaver, before following the other fish out of the conference room. Belladonna collapsed onto the table, hands rubbing her temples in relief… or maybe just exhaustion at the fact that it was only noon. Roman playfully nudged her with his foot, 

“Look at me on my white horse, saving the day!” He mused so proudly, “Seems it got you a bit of cred with your boss, didn’t it? And what was that, something about a bonus too?”

“And now I have an entire shoot to direct.” She replied with a tired smirk and a nod. “And yeah, she’s been dangling that bonus since the beginning of the year.”

He shrugged, prowling closer, caging her in with his arms as he braced them on the table behind her. The scent of his cologne enveloped her, dark and sensual. 

“I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.” He paused, “You’re welcome by the way.”

She tilted her head at his playful remark, giving his belt a tug, pulling him into a kiss. Her lips brushed his several times, by now they were both used to the stares and quick little instances of phones being pulled out during his lunchtime visits. 

“Thank you.”

“You know angel, I have to say, I think these conference room meetings are starting to grow on me, I’m finding them very stimulating…”

“Keep it in your pants, Sionis, mama’s working.” His eyebrows shot up at that one, and his chest inhaled a deep controlling breath.

“Easy kitten, don’t forget who holds the cards here.”

“Let's see them.” Her mood had considerably improved but Roman found that was usually the case after he kissed her, “Full house beats a flush.”

Roman shook his head, a half-smile playing on his lips as he held out her coffee. Today, it was different - her usual rose-infused mocha, but iced. The cool container melted against her skin as she took it from him, the condensation leaving small droplets on her fingertips. 

"The girl at the shop insisted you try it iced with the warming weather," Roman explained, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"And you actually took her suggestion? Shocking," She replied, taking a whiff of the sweet aroma before taking a tentative sip. 

"Jokes on her, if you don't like it I'm burning that little cafe to the ground..." Despite his playful threat, she could tell Roman was only half serious. But the drink was surprisingly delicious, and she couldn't help but wear a pleasantly surprised expression as she took another sip. 

“Good?” He asked with a smug look, she held the drink out to him but he shook his head, so she took another sip and leaned forward to give him a kiss, slipping her tongue past his lips for a rose-infused mocha-flavored kiss. He seemed a little more interested in tasting the coffee now.

"And so the little coffee shop that could, lives another day... Have you eaten?" His concern might have been slightly pandering but it was still kind of cute.

Roman looked hard at her searching for any signs of deceit, Belladonna seemed very unamused at now having two people inquiring as to her dietary needs. “Been too busy.”

Roman reached into the small brown bag that had gone unnoticed until now, revealing a box of french macarons that were almost too beautiful to devour. After careful consideration, he chose a bright pink one adorned with delicate swirls and a sprinkle of glitter. The aroma of rich chocolate mousse wafted through the air as he playfully commanded:

"Open up." 

Belladonna licked her lips in anticipation before parting them to accept the treat. She nipped at his fingers, savoring the velvety texture of the macaron and the warmth of his skin against her lips. As she chewed, Roman chuckled and shook his head.

 "What am I going to do with you, kitten? Tie you down and force you to eat?" Belladonna shrugged nonchalantly, enjoying the banter between them as well as how Romans eyes did that thing again; where they flared up and there was a little surge of something dark trying to get out.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to drag him into the nearest closet.

Professionalism be damned.

“Kitten, don’t test daddy’s patience…” He warned her with a growl, his voice low and dangerous.

Belladonna wasn’t quite sure what came over her but she couldn’t stop the words that slipped past her lips. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

He jerked her forward into a hard kiss, and she was pretty sure she could feel that last little strand of his self-control pulled taut ready to snap as his tongue delved into her mouth and his hands slipped over her ass, lifting her onto the table. Standing between her legs, he pressed himself against her, feeling the heat of their bodies meld together. A guttural groan escaped his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tickling the nape of his neck.

Oh, this naughty little kitten of his…

“You like to tease me, don’t you, Kitten?” His voice was gravelly and strained in between kisses, panting heavily before finally breaking away just long enough to speak a few words.

“I’m about five seconds from dragging you into an empty office and bending that sweet ass over a desk, Belladonna, and I don’t care who hears." He kissed her again, harder this time, “You wanna play like that? Call me daddy?” He grinned a wolfish lear against her lips, “I’ll make you fucking scream it.”

A knock at the glass window pulled them both from the edge of the abyss they were standing on, looking over to the windows, Zsasz stood with his back to them, he had knocked on the glass, and several people in passing were hurrying away. No doubt they must have snapped a few pictures that would be splashed over the tabloids and gossip rags tomorrow, hell, maybe even today, it was still early.

“Kitten,” His deep voice rumbled through the air, causing her heart to skip a beat. He paused and straightened his perfectly-tailored jacket, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room before landing on her. 

“One of these days I’m not gonna care how many people are around, and if you get fired, I’ll just get you another job somewhere else.”

“My office is down the hall.” She tried to maintain a professional demeanor but felt her cheeks flush under his intense gaze.

“Temping as that is, Angel,” He used her nickname with a hint of amusement in his voice, “I did come for more than just your afternoon coffee and to check to make sure you’ve eaten.”

“Has something happened with the cops?” Her curiosity was piqued by his serious tone.

“No,” His expression turned grave, “Does the name Maria Lopez mean anything to you?”

She furrowed her brow, trying to recall any information about the name. After a minute of concentration, she shook her head. 

“No,” she answered honestly.

“No one? Not a teacher, a maid, a friend, nobody?”

“No, I didn’t get along with most of my teachers. Our maids were mostly Italian or Greek, and after what happened with Olivia, I didn’t have many friends. Plus, my father wouldn’t allow anyone with even a hint of Hispanic heritage near me,” 

Roman looked confused by this revelation. 

“His best friend was Spanish,” she continued, “They had some kind of falling out between their families a long time ago. My father saw anyone with Hispanic blood as someone not to be trusted.” Roman nodded in understanding; he knew the type of person her father was. “Why do you ask?”

Roman hesitated before offering up what he knew, “If I tell you this, you do nothing. Do you understand me?” 

His voice took on that hard quality again, the one that readied her fight or flight instinct, he was serious. She nodded slowly, but he looked expectantly.

"Okay, I promise. What's going on? Who is Maria Lopez?" She asked.

He lowered his voice, “I think that’s the alias your mother has been using.”

Her jaw dropped. “You found her?”

He shook his head. "Not yet. I'm still verifying some things, but I needed to know if that name meant anything to you."

"If it's an alias my father chose for her, I never would've known to look for it." Understanding dawned on Roman's face as he nodded. "Where is she?" She demanded, feeling a surge of hope mixed with fear.

"I can't say for sure," He admitted.

“I don’t believe you.” His eyes sharpened. "You wouldn't ask me something like this if you didn't have reason to believe she was out there."

He was amused by her straight talk and she was right, fact was he had a lot more than he let on. 

“Maybe I do have something. But,” She visibly deflated, “Nothing happens until I can verify what I’m looking at.” He seized her chin, “You do nothing. You don’t even so much as Google that name, do you hear me, Belladonna Black?”

She hadn’t been called by her full name in years and the way Roman said it… Well, it had her wondering if she could change his mind about the whole office rendezvous.

“You’re really gonna find her?” He was trying to be serious and maybe a bit intimidating but she didn’t see it, she saw him assembling pieces to a puzzle she hadn’t even been able to find pieces to in four years. 

“I said I would. Anyone jumping the gun could result in more blood spilled. Do you remember what we talked about the other night after Stan left?” She nodded and gave a feint, ‘Yeah’ It was easy in the span of an evening with Thai takeout and sleeping in the safety of his cozy bed to forget just how real the game they were playing was. 

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” She took hold of his hand that gripped her chin and kissed it. 

“Alright. You’re going to finish out your day and I’m picking you up at eight, not a moment later. Any other work you have to do will have to be done remotely, understand me?” 

“You kidding, I’m a hero by association today, it won’t be hard to leave by eight.”

“Be ready.” She nodded, “Now, I need to be going, Angel. I have some errands to run and before you ask; don’t.”

Roman pulled her in for one more kiss, his hands settling on her hips, maybe a little lower than might have been appropriate for a goodbye kiss but she didn’t seem to mind. It was slow and leisurely, a gentle exploration of her mouth and she could feel the warmth of his wet tongue teasing the seam of her lips. With a satisfied 'Mmm' and a heavy restrained sigh, Roman pulled back, leaving her wanting more. But before she could protest, in Roman fashion he kissed the palm of her hand, his lips lingering for a moment before he left the box of macarons on the conference table, a gesture of sweetness in contrast to his confident and seductive demeanor.

“Eat up kitten, but not too much. We’re going out tonight.”

The hands of the clock on the wall had inched closer to six pm, casting long shadows across the nearly deserted office. Belladonna, now left to her own devices after sending Daisy home with Lloyd, focused intently on her task at hand: finalizing preparations for tomorrow's shoot. The responsibility of running it all loomed over her, a weight she now bore thanks to Roman's influence.

Belladonna adjusted her glasses and diligently worked through the shot list, making necessary adjustments and confirming equipment availability. She double-checked every detail, ensuring that everything would be in working order for the big day. Somehow knowing Roman would be there not only watching but participating made her a bit anxious.

Her gaze momentarily drifted to the corner of her desk where the mostly empty box of macarons caught her eye. A small smile played on her lips as she recalled Roman's 'doting boyfriend' act earlier that day. She reached for the box, taking out the last one; a chocolate and pistachio macaron, and lifted it to her nose, inhaling its sweet aroma.

She’d never say it outloud but the Roman made one hell of a fake boyfriend when he tried, almost fooled her, before taking a satisfying bite.

As she chewed, her mind wandered back to Roman—his enigmatic presence and the powerful connections he held. She was putting a lot of trust in him, the feminist in her didn’t like how dependant on him she was and she felt a pang of unease. But at this point Roman had had multipl opportunities to either cut her loose or let her die and each time he did neither. 

The clock continued to tick away, marking the passage of time as she worked tirelessly to ensure tomorrow's shoot would go off without a hitch. And all the while, Roman Sionis' presence continued to linger in the back of her mind.

She redirected her attention to the list of garments for tomorrow's shoot, pulling out the photo of the piece Roman would be modeling, an intricately detailed, dark and alluring outfit that seemed to perfectly match his enigmatic persona.

"Damn, he is going to look incredible in this," Belladonna whispered under her breath, feeling a sudden surge of excitement at the prospect of capturing him on camera. 

The past week had been a whirlwind, and despite the chaos and danger, but oddly enough she felt perfectly safe. And the notion of Roman being close by while she worked, working in his club was oddly comforting.

She still knew practically nothing about him, and their entire relationship seemed to be built on a foundation of dependency and manipulation. 

Slumping into her chair she stared at the open search engine on her laptop thinking back to the last time she Googled him and how she didn't find much. At the time it had been disheartening but now she had more information on him, especially after her conversation with Cobblepot. She has a better idea of what to look for. She decided to try again, beginning her search at Gotham Preparatory School for Boys. 

As she browsed through the website, with some quick math she found the graduating classes section and quickly calculated which year Roman would have graduated. Once she located his year, her eyes were immediately drawn to his graduation picture – stone-faced, serious, and undeniably gorgeous. 

She studied the class photo, she noticed the space that people seemed to give Roman, as though he was a shark among a school of fish. It only confirmed Cobblepot's description of him – magnetic yet unnerving. People were afraid of him even at only eighteen. 

"Roman Sionis, man of mystery…”

Roman wasn’t Valedictorian and hadn't received any special awards or honors. However, his grades must have been decent enough for him to participate in extracurricular activities, and he was a busy boy. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she read the list – debate team, high-ranking chess competitor, social clubs, polo, squash, fencing, boxing, equestrianism, and swimming. 

None of those sounded like Roman but given the prestigious nature of the school, she suspected his parents likely had something to do with Roman’s busy schedule; something she could relate to. The thing that surprised her the most was the chess thing, she didn’t see Roman as having the patience for that sort of thing but by all accounts, he was very good.

"Of course, they'd want their son involved in everything," she mused, thinking of how similar Roman's upbringing seemed to her own.

Though she knew she should focus on the upcoming photo shoot, the enigma of Roman Sionis proved too enticing to resist. 

She clicked further into the archives next, finding a treasure trove of photos featuring Roman in his school uniform. The crisp white shirt and sharp black blazer and his immaculately styled hair seemed to be precursors to his current love for suits. Even as a teenager, he exuded an air of confidence and danger that was undeniably attractive. His stern expression, reminiscent of a young James Dean or Clint Eastwood, gave him a "resting bastard face" that somehow only served to heighten his appeal.

"Damn," she whispered to herself, unable to look away from the smoldering intensity in his eyes. Many of his photos possessed the quality to them that his eyes seemed to follow you wherever you went.

There was an alumni section dedicated to post-high school achievements like colleges, civic honors, and prominent family legacies where Roman was mentioned as a successful club owner, nothing more. There was no mention of any continuing connection with the school, but it did lead her to a page dedicated to significant contributors – including Roman's father, Richard Sionis.

Richard's gray hair betrayed his age, though there was still a strong resemblance between him and his son. Unlike Roman, Richard wore a smile in his pictures – but it appeared rehearsed and artificial, reminding Belladonna of the way her own father would grin for the cameras. It was clear that Roman had inherited his father's good looks, but there was something more genuine in his features, less tired and fake than the elder Sionis.

Belladonna continued to read about Richard's long-standing support of the school, noting his service on the board of trustees and involvement in numerous fundraisers. It seemed that the Sionis family had a history of influence and power, making her wonder what role Roman's upbringing played in shaping the man he had become.

Who was Roman Sionis before he became Roman Sionis?

She stared at the screen, not ready to pack it in just yet.

She didn’t know if he went to college or where to look and she really had no idea what happened to him after he graduated, only that at some point his family had severed all ties with him and Roman had begun a criminal life. He had mentioned he’d done time in Blackgate, but she wasn’t sure of the reason. The criminal stuff didn’t bother her at this point, she mostly wanted to know about his family drama. Because personal family drama was irritating, someone else’s family drama was entertainment.

"Alright then," She muttered under her breath, typing in the keywords ‘Roman Sionis’ and ‘Blackgate’ then hitting enter.

Over a dozen arrest records appeared on the screen, and Belladonna felt her heart tighten in her chest. Most of the records showed Roman posting bail up until he was twenty-one, but then the pattern changed. The bail postings stopped, and he started doing more time in jail. She suspected this may have been when his parents severed ties with him, but she couldn't find anything concrete to prove it. 

Not surprising, a family like his was likely to have as many skeletons in their closets as hers did and like hers; they stayed locked up tight away from prying eyes.

She clicked on the last arrest record, dating back to when Roman was twenty-three. Her stomach churned as the mugshot revealed several injuries to his face – a black and slightly swelling eye, bloodied cheeks, and a split lip. He looked like he had been beaten very badly, yet his smug expression remained intact, as if daring the world to knock him down further.

"God, Roman..." 

Despite his injuries, there was something about his defiant gaze that made her feel a flicker of admiration. It was clear that Roman refused to be broken, even when the odds were against him. She could practically hear him boasting ‘You should see the other guy.’

Aggravated assault, property damage, trespassing, criminal menacing, assault with a deadly weapon, possession of illegal weapons, resisting arrest, and battery – it was an extensive rap sheet that painted a portrait of a man prone to violence and chaos. 

"Roman, you really don't make things easy, do you?" Belladonna muttered under her breath, feeling a strange mix of concern and fascination. 

As she researched further into the dates of his arrests, Belladonna stumbled upon the court case where Roman was tried for these numerous charges. Limited to a mid-tier lawyer, she expected him to suffer the consequences of his actions, yet one by one, he managed to beat most of the charges. It seemed as though evidence had conveniently disappeared or witnesses had mysteriously chosen not to step forward.

"Interesting," She mused, intrigued by the power Roman appeared to wield even in his darkest moments. "How did you manage all of this?"

Her search eventually led her to the final charge that stuck: tax evasion. The out-of-place accusation left her puzzled, as it seemed far removed from the violent nature of the other crimes.

"Tax evasion? That's what they got you on, Roman?" Belladonna shook her head, disbelief etched across her face. Frustration gnawed at her as she tried to find more information on the bizarre charge but came up empty-handed. “Well, the permits make a little more sense now…”

The courtroom photos were grainy, like a lower quality paparazzi shot. His expression was one of pure disgust and irritation as he stood before the judge, his dark eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. The gavel came down, sealing his fate: three years in Blackgate Penitentiary.

She couldn't find anything on Roman's prison stint without hiring a private investigator or formally requesting court documents and that required the Freedom of Information Act which was time consuming and could be expensive and it wasn’t exactly subtle. And for some reason, she didn't want Roman to know she was digging into his past.

Her eyes narrowed as she typed in a new search query – this time focusing on Roman's initial arrest that had landed him in Blackgate Penitentiary. As she skimmed the articles, she discovered it was tied to an assault case against a local criminal named Tony Zucco.

"Tony Zucco?" 

A feeling of déjà vu washed over her. She knew the name sounded familiar but couldn't quite place it. Frustrated, she opened a new tab and quickly Googled the man.

As the search results loaded, Belladonna found herself staring at a squeaky clean image of Tony Zucco – a self-made man from Old Gotham with a very old school mafia gangster look to him. He looked like the type of man her father surrounded himself with. 

The more she searched, the less information she seemed to find about the altercation between Roman and Tony. It was as if their conflict had been purposefully scrubbed from the internet. However, one detail remained consistent throughout the scarce information available – Roman had lost the fight, but not without causing some serious damage.

"Damn," Belladonna breathed out.

What did Tony Zucco do to earn Roman’s wrath? What could have possibly ignited such a violent confrontation between the two? Her instincts told her it wasn’t exactly a fight over a seat at the bar.

The case was open and shut. As far as she could tell, he’d done his three years and he was released on the date, not a day more or less. There were a few pictures from paparazzi’s of Roman after his release and he looked harder, features darker and sharper, grittier. But she couldn’t imagine that three years of prison was easy on a man like Roman who had known luxury his whole life.

Gotham was almost pretty at sunset, if you didn’t think about all the scum that came out at night, the fading sunlight doused the area in hues of orange and gold. Roman lounged against the hood of his sleek black Maserati, scrolling through his tablet. A smirk played on his lips as if he were watching a thrilling episode of his favorite show, waiting to see what would unfold next. 

Zsasz, Roman's loyal assistant, stood beside him, taking a drag from a cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. For once not wearing his jacket in a departure of his professional look, he wore a shoulder holster but it didn’t hold a gun. No, where a small firearm usually sat tucked against a mans side instead was the scabbard of a very large knife. Scars on his arms on full display since no one was around to be scared by them, besides when it came to nightfall in Gotham, the scarier you looked, the less likely people were to fuck with you and there weren’t many men who looked scarier than Zsasz. 

"Tell me she's asking better questions this time," Zsasz asked in a monotone voice with a hint of reservation. 

“She started with my old prep school this time." Roman said, his eyes never leaving the tablet. "Nobody ever thinks keyloggers are useful until they are," 

“I prefer a more hands on approach.”

Roman chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You think she’ll find my list of extracurriculars impressive?"

“Hell no. Squash is dumb, and polo is for spoiled rich pussies," Zsasz countered, blowing out another puff of smoke. Zsasz scoffed. 

A bark of laughter escaped Roman. "You do remember I played Polo, right?." Zsasz shot him a sideways glance, the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “

Zsasz's lips quirked. "Wasn't calling you a pussy." 

"Damn right I’m not." 

Roman's attention returned to the tablet, watching in real time as Belladonna uncovered more and more of his sordid past. Part of him relished the thought of her reaction. The rest rankled at her audacity to dig into his business but he had done just that too her so he couldn’t blame her much. Still, pretty stupid to think she could dig into him and he not know. He knew about her previous day of Googling after his little adventure at the docks with Cobblepots men and he’s watched as she searched up his old school.

He had to give it to her, she’d gone right back to work after he’d left and he was pleased to see that she didn’t Google the name Maria Lopez, just as she’s promised not to. Nope. But she did take a second shot at Googling him. Her first attempt at digging into Romans past hadn’t yielded much, turns out when you write in the name ‘Roman Sionis’ into Google it’s mostly just papparazzi pictures and a few articles on his club. Roman had paid good money to make sure those articles on his arrest and his younger years were at least seven pages back in the search results. You couldn’t erase a criminal past but you could make it harder to find. 

He admired Belladonna's tenacity. She was resourceful, stubborn, and unafraid to dig into his past. Those traits only served to make her more attractive to him.

"Let's see what else she has up her sleeve," Roman murmured, his finger swiping across the tablet screen. 

A wicked grin spreading across his face as he noticed Belladonna had uncovered his criminal record. 

"Ah, there it is. She's finally found my rap sheet," He said, his voice low and amused.

"Should've been her first step," Zsasz commented, looking over Roman's shoulder at the screen. 

"Oh come on now, give the kid a break. She's new at this."

"True," Zsasz chuckled, leaning back against the car hood. "I’ll give her this, she’s has handled everything so far like an old-school mafia woman. Haven’t seen tears from her once."

“Thank God for that, I can’t stand seeing women cry.” Roman agreed, his admiration for Belladonna growing with each passing moment "Indeed, she's been a champ,"

Flicking through the rest of the information she'd gathered, he spotted something that caught his attention. 

"Look here, she's found Tony Zucco's name."

"Tony Zucco?" Zsasz mused, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "She won't find much. He's been out of the game since you shut him down.”

"Ah, yes. Good ol' Tony," Roman sighed nostalgically, a distant look in his eyes as if recalling a fond memory. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Not the least of which was the scar on his shoulder,courtsey of Zsasz's loyalty. Roman met his gaze. 

"Good shot, by the way. The ladies seem to like the scars." 

Zsasz's lips quirked again. "Following orders.” Zsasz reminded him with a sly grin as he flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “What else has she dug up?" 

Roman scrolled through the contents of the laptop. "She found the shooting at the club." His mouth twisted. "Hard to believe that lazy bastard was in business for so long, Tony never seemed to understand the value of paying your people what they’re worth..."

Zsasz chimed in. "You had a better employee retention program." 

"I did at that." Roman said smugly. They both chuckled, enjoying the memory that many would probably find deeply suspicious or deeply unsettling.

"Yeah, poor Tony never saw it coming. Shame you didn't kill him," Zsasz said casually. "Could've gotten the club for cheap if there had been a death on the property." 

"True," Roman mused, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at the thought. “A little restraint goes a long way Zsasz…”

His laugh died and Roman's eyes narrowed to slits as he zoomed in on an article that Belladonna was currently browsing. It was a piece the Gotham Times had published shortly after the shooting—one he'd somehow overlooked until now. The street lights flickered above, casting eerie shadows across his face as he scrutinized the text.

"Zsasz," Roman said, his voice low and dangerous. "Take a look at this and tell me what you see."

Zsasz took the tablet from Roman, his pale eyes scanning the screen with a growing sense of unease. He glanced back at Roman, his voice tense with anticipation. "Two very irritating names.”

"This makes it two times now," Roman muttered, a note of irritation lacing his voice.

"Two?"

"First, we miss Belladonna's hypoglycemia diagnosis," Roman said, tossing the tablet aside where it landed with a soft thud on the leather couch. “Now this.”

"Ah," Zsasz nodded slowly, his lips twitching into an almost-smile. "A determined woman does better research than the FBI. Maybe you should take Belladonna out for a nice dinner, thank her properly for her detective skills."

Roman's expression softened at the mention of dinner. The thought of her resourcefulness brought a rare sense of warmth to his chest. 

"Dinner?" he echoed, considering the idea. His hand instinctively reached up to adjust the cuff of his immaculately tailored suit.

Roman considered it. 

"Taking a half-Italian woman to an Italian restaurant... is that too cliché?" Roman inquired, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a semblance of amusement.

"Boss," Zsasz replied with a deadpan delivery, "clichés are clichés for a reason. But if you want something different, I know a place. Turkish."

"That little hole in the wall joint in the Bowery?" Roman's tone shifted with intrigue.

Zsasz gave a single nod. "That's the one."

"Karnıyarık," Roman mused aloud, a hint of hunger creeping into his voice as he remembered the savor of well-spiced eggplant and minced meat. "That does sound good."

"And don't get me started on the büyükanne's baklava." Zsasz's eyes gleamed with a rare spark of enthusiasm. "Better than any of those fancy restaurants, hands down."

Dinner was a good next step but there was a new loose end to tie up. Roman's amusement faded as he glared at the article again, picking out the names that had drawn his ire—Ramirez and Craven. The detectives first on scene after he'd been shot. 

Roman sneered at the article, muttering under his breath, "So that's why you've got it out for me..." 

His mind raced with thoughts of revenge and calculated moves, feeling the weight of their names pressing down on him. 

"This changes things," Roman said, the gears turning in his head. He looked at Zsasz with a new sense of urgency. 

"What do you want to do about it?" Zsasz asked calmly. 

"Call up the lawyers and our inside man. I want everything on Ramirez and Craven by Monday." 

"Got it, boss," Zsasz replied, nodding in agreement. His fingers were already reaching for his phone, ready to make contact and set things into motion. “You wanna wait on Metropolis? Left that doctor in pretty rough shape, he might talk, might not.”

“No, I think we’ve properly motivated the good doctor to keep his mouth shut. But let’s not take any chances, keep our travel plans as scheduled. And look into that other thing, I want that sorted by the time we leave, make sure she has everything she needs.”

"Now what?" he asked, curious about Roman's next move.

Roman's mind buzzed with plans and contingencies, the dark machinery of his intellect churning relentlessly. Craven and Ramirez had been the proverbial annoying thorn in his side since this whole damn thing started. He’d have figured out exactly what their beef with him was sooner or later but thanks to his little detective, it was sooner and he’d have to make sure he thanked her properly, wouldn’t he?

But he’d also have to tell her he’d been spying on her at work as well as her home, which really shouldn’t surprise her at this point. Well, she’d get over it.

The neon glow of the city reflected in Roman's dark eyes as he glanced at his watch, the ticking seconds a reminder that time was always moving. 

"Time to go pick up my angel from work." 

He pocketed the tablet and slid off the hood of the Maserati with predatory grace. Zsasz looked up from his phone call, nodding in understanding. Neither spoke of the growing reality, which was that Belladonna was quickly becoming a more central influence in Romans life, which made her dangerous.

Her beauty and courage had captivated him from their first meeting, and he found himself craving her presence more and more each day. 

"Boss, everything's set," Zsasz said, interrupting Roman's thoughts as he hung up the phone. "Our guys will get us what we need."

"Good," Roman replied, his voice low and intense. "We'll find out exactly what those bastards are playing at, and put an end to it. But for now… let's focus on something far more pleasant." He smirked, enjoying the idea of spending time with Belladonna, even if only for a brief reprieve from the darkness that consumed his world. “I’m hungry.”

When faced with virtually no information about Tony Zucco aside from his sterling reputation within the community and the many mentionings of his hand in local businesses, Bealladonna’s bullshit detector started going off. Jaded or not, a wise man once said if something seemed too good to be true then it was.

When one word didn’t work, she opted to cross reference the name of Tony Zucco with Roman Sionis and then she found it.

The words "shooting" and "Masquerade Noir" had caught her attention, and as she read, she began to piece together a story that had unfolded just months after Roman's release from prison.

The article detailed an incendent that had unfolded at the location that would later become Roman’s club, he had been looking at the building with a leasing agent when Tony Zucco and his men showed up.

The statement of the leasing agent told of how Roman instructed her to flee and call the police and when she ran Tony’s men persued her. She imagined Roman's tall, dark frame acting as a barrier between the fleeing woman and Zucco's thugs. Roman then inteviened and tackled one fo the men by throwing punches but was qickly overwhelmed when he second man attacked Roman from behind. The witness report stated she saw Roman taking a severe beating on his knees before she went for help.

Roman out-numbered two to one, those seemed like his kind of odds. The image of his strong, muscular body entangled in a vicious fight made her shiver with both fear and admiration. It was compelling but something about it just wasn’t right. Where was Zsasz? She hadn’t bothered to look up anything about Zsasz, that one she had been a little afraid to look into.

The article continued stating by the time the police had arraived the two men were dead from gunshot wounds, Tony Zucco was shot in the chest but still alive and Roman was shot in the shoulder. She could almost hear the gunshots echoing through the empty building as Roman and Zucco traded fire.

Her breath caught in her throat as she envisioned Roman wounded and bleeding. She thought back to earlier that morning when she’d caught sight of him with that towel draped around his waist. She’d seen a few scars, one in particular on his shoulder, it had looked like a bullet but she couldn't tell from where she was.

As she absorbed the information, she could almost see the scene play out in her mind: Roman, bloodied but unbowed, bringing down the older man before collapsing into unconsciousness. It wasn't long after this brutal exchange that the police arrived, taking both men to Gotham General Hospital for treatment.

"Both men were treated and held in medical hold with armed police officers until they cold be taken to the GCPD." She read further. 

While there was push from Zucco’s attourney to have Roman thrown back into Blackgate for the shooting and there was a potential civil lawsuit against him, the judge had ruled that Roman was out numbered, out gunned and he acted in reasonable self defense. 

"Tony Zucco was sentenced to ten years for conspiracy to commit murder, assault with a deadly weapon, criminal conspiracy, and criminal solicitation. " 

It had been, as far as she could tell, a slam dunk case mostly thanks to the severity of Romans injuries and the leasing agent who had witnessed the whole ordeal. She had stepped forward offering testimony, ultimately clearing Roman Sionis of any wrongdoing.

She moved from one article to another that talked about Tony Zucco’s release several years ago and he hadn’t been mentioned that much since, choosing to keep a quiet profile until almost all mention of him stopped. And a price reduction of several hundred thousand dollars had left the building vacant, which Roman swooped in to purchase it months later.

"Masquerade Noir opens its doors... quickly becoming Gotham's hottest night spot," She read aloud, her voice tinged with disbelief. The club had been born from violence, yet now thrived with people fighting to get in.

"Roman Sionis: Behind the Mystery" – another article title caught her eye, and she clicked on it eagerly. Scrolling through the text, she absorbed every detail there were interviews with staff, patrons, all speaking very highly of Roman as an employer who ran an immaculate ship. Didn’t tolerate any shady activity and overall, all who set foot inside his doors reported they loved the experience and felt safe and eager to return even if a martini cost almost twenty five dollars.

"From violence to prospering into an icon of the city; one thing is certain – he has built an empire from nothing, and many are drawn to the allure of his power and charm."

The sudden buzz of the intercom jolted Belladonna from her thoughts, her heart pounding in her chest. 

"Miss Black, Mr. Sionis is in the lobby to pick you up," The security guards voice came through the speaker.

"Thank you, tell him I’ll be right down." She managed to reply, quickly shutting down her laptop and packing her bag. 

As she stepped out of her office and made her way to the lobby, she considered what she might say to him, or even if she’d say anything at all. He’d never forbade her from looking into his past, never warned her not to go digging and what kind of idiot would she be if she didn’t at least do some light Googling into a man that she was growing more intimately connected with? Hell, she was all but sleeping with him at this point, she was living with him. 

Her steps slowed as she entered the elevator and waited for it to carry her to the first floor. He did, however, tell her to ask fewer questions or learn to look the other way. 

"Angel," 

Roman's deep voice called as he saw her, his eyes alight with a mix of desire and possessiveness and he wore a smile that could charm the devil himself. He crossed the distance between them in a few swift strides, pulling her into an unusually passionate kiss that caught her off guard. There was no one here aside from the security guard who wasn’t even watching, why the show? Something put him in a good mood. 

"Hi.” She said a little breathlessly.

He ushered her toward his black Maserati parked outside, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. "Hungry?"

"Actually, yeah." She replied, her previous queries now pushed to the back burner after that kiss and the prospect of dinner. She wondered what he had in mind but before she could ask he answered that with a question of his own.

"Ever had Turkish?" Roman asked, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

She wasn’t sure what it was but something had put him in a very good mood, it was hard to find any hint of those little tendrils of darkness that usually clung to him. It was then that she registered his question and her lips curled in distaste, the memory of her father's rants about 'those damned Turks' still fresh even after all these years. 

"No, of course not." She said it with an almost laugh, as if it was the dumbest question she’d been asked.

Roman's gaze sharpened, and she could almost hear the unspoken reprimand. “Excuse me?’ Who's never had Turkish in this cultural melting pot of a city? It’s almost offensive.”

“Sorry?” She shrugged. "Did you forget I'm half Greek and my father is something of a xenophobe?" She replied, unable to keep the slightly defensive note from her voice.

"What's that got to do with food?" He asked perplexed as the car pulled away from the curb.

Belladonna bit her lip. Did Roman really need her to explain her father's deep seeded, outdated, cultural hatred? She thought it was pretty self explanatory. On the other hand it was just as plausible for Roman to harbor no real hate for anyone unless they crossed him in which case that was most certainly a ‘case by case’ basis. He also seemed like an ‘I hate everybody equally’ type of man. He was a total social butterfly, floating between different groups without a care in the world. Old grudges and racial tensions didn't seem to faze him at all, personal grudges? Well, that was likely different.

"Turkish food," She finally said. "Greece and Turkey have been enemies for centuries,” She managed. "Ever since the Ottoman Empire conquered Constantinople in 1453, there's been bad blood between the nations. Even now they're still not exactly friends-"

"Despite both being NATO allies..." Roman interjected, one dark brow arched knowingly. 

His mention of something so political surprised her, Roman was smart but she didn’t really think of him as ‘politics smart.’ She had never thought of him as someone who paid attention to politics, let alone casually mention it. But in a way, it did make a certain kind of sense, the politics of crime.

"Just because someone is an ally, doesn't make them friends." 

She froze, hearing the echo of their own intricate affiliation in those words. The playful atmosphere evaporated, replaced by an awkward tension. 

Without warning, Roman's hand reached out to cup her chin and he silenced any concerns she had with a deep, passionate kiss. His lips moved slowly over hers, lulling her into a relaxed state, slow, smoldering, possessive and hungry. When he pulled away, she was left breathless, her mind pleasantly unfocused. 

"Trust me, you're gonna love it," He purred, low and seductive, his thumb stroking over her lower lip. 

He didn't acknowledge her earlier words or the uneasy parallel she had drawn between them. If her comment bothered him, he didn't let it show. 

“Was your father that much of a bigot to keep you from trying some of the most delicious food known to man?” Roman's disbelief was evident in his tone, and it surprised her. She had never thought of him as a foodie but he seemed all riled up over it.

“Roman, what do you think?” She asked dryly.

"Come on," he said. "Time you tried some Turkish delight."

“That jello thing that little prick Edmund liked from the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe?”

Roman rolled his eyes, and scoffed. “You know classic children's fantasy literature but you’ve never had Turkish?”

“You mean, ‘I know classic Christian biblical propaganda?’ Then yes, I do. I went to an all girls Catholic school, remember?”

A sly smile crossed Roman's face. “Oh, Angel, trust me. That’s a detail I’ve never forgotten.”

Just an hour ago she’d read through as much of Romans criminal history as she could find, she was still no closer to discovering what it was that happened between his family and him. She didn’t for one second buy the fact that he’d done three years for tax evasion or that there was no validity to any of the other charges against him. 

He did it. She was sure. 

And she knew for a fact that the shooting that took place in his club couldn’t have been as simple as the article had made it out to be. 

Roman protecting a curiously present leasing agent when someone he had a sketchy past with had just happen to show up? Not for a second.

She couldn't explain it, but somehow Roman had found a way to get away with murder and attempted murder. And now, he was doing it again with Jimmy. Even more unsettling, she was helping him - at times, even enjoying it. She could hardly believe how comfortable she had become in his presence, especially since learning to read him better. As they drove through the streets of Gotham, for what was sounding more and more like a real date, Roman wore something that hovered between a smile and a smirk. His hand rested possessively on her thigh, thumb gently grazing her leg through the fabric of her jeans. Electric sparks shooting between their bodies like lightning bolts. She couldn't deny the thrill she felt being by his side, despite the danger and moral ambiguity of their actions together.

Roman was a man of many qualities, but at the forefront of it all was his ability to survive. She couldn't imagine how much blood he must have shed to get to where he was. Despite knowing he was dangerous and having witnessed his quick fire temper firsthand, and even being mildly on the receiving end a few times. She was drawn to him. 

Everything about this man should have sent her running and screaming.

But it didn’t. 

First he’d spared her life, then he’d saved her life more than once, called down an armed assault when she’d been in danger and nearly declared war with another criminal over her. Yet, here he was, sitting beside her, taking her to dinner after a long workday, to try something new. She wasn’t bothered by his touch, in fact, she craved it. Despite the red flags every Cosmo had ever told her to look for and run from there was a warmth emanating from those flags, like a bullet-proof, blood red blanket. 

Roman Sionis was a pit bull. An angry dog with a penchant for biting and slicing off ears. Dropping bodies where it pleased him and something about that knowledge set every nerve of hers on fire. 

He was a criminal. A killer with blood on his hands. And a psychopath with violence in his heart. And if there was a God in heaven, let him help her because she was falling for him.

Sixteen

I woke up a little early so here's a happy surprise for you guys! So, we got a little more insight into Roman's past, eh? Anyone else get the impression we're missing some information???? Belladonna does. Hope you guys liked this chapter, I know I'm teasing you guys mercilessly but stick with me I PROMISE YOU the smut is coming in the next chapter or two, it just depends on pacing but it will be worth it! Y'all have stuck with me this far just hang on a little longer. I need to work on a few one-shots but I have the next chapter mostly planned out so it shouldn't take quite as long. I also had some family in town so writing was put on the back burner for a little bit.

I'm really loving how this story is coming together and I really appreciate everyone's support, especially my mysterious anonymous questioner who checks in on me, I don't know who you are but I appreciate you! Comments and interaction comes from such a small group so the feedback and check-ins really do keep me motivated!

How do you guys like the new look fo the story??? I finally got Canva Premium so I think I'll be playing around with some more fun stuff like the bars and dividers. You guys know what to do, reblog with those crazy tags, comment and like! Reblogs are the best way to circulate work on Tumblr so we can reach more Toxic Fangirls! And speaking of which a big welcome to a new potential member of the Roman Sionis Toxic Love Fangirl Club who is actually a pretty damn good writer her/their damnself! Looking at you @gilverrwrites and my other toxic fangirls too! @hereticpriest @daenerys-skywalker @tarrenterror25 @supernatural-lover and @keffirinneYou guys are my cheer squad!

Have a great day, let me know what you all think, and stay toxic.

#roman sionis smut #fake relationship #fanfiction is life #original character #close proximity #slightly toxic #slight power imbalance #medium burn romance #shadows of deception #belladonna black #belladonna fucking black #i have too many fanfictions #roman sionis toxic love fangirl club #black mask smut #black mask #black mask fanfiction #roman sionis #roman sionis x original female character #simping for the bad guy #dc #dc fandom #dc birds of prey #there will be smut #romansionisfanfiction #romansionissmut #dark romance #ewan mcgregor characters #alternate universe #yandere #roman sionis has anger issues

[cunn1ngboy]

I want to discuss Will and Hannibal

Or a reflection-summary on kinning, their relationship and natures.

Thought it might be useful to explain my point of view on them.

Kinning and Conjoiness

Many people view Hannibal and Will as pretty similar characters-you kin one, you automatically somewhat kin the other. I won't argue with that, they are indeed similar-at many points, even. BUT

They are conjoined. Together they create a full picture, their similarities make them understand each other, relate-for example, sharing worldviews or mind itself. From the other side, their opposites, or simply different characteristics work like a puzzle of two pieces, many connections which improve the strength of the hold.

A good way of expressing that I find the deleted scene from the season 3 final-where Will and Hannibal sit in that very church, coping one another's pose, yet they wear different clothes-black and white, but they share the sun, the view. They mirror each other, which shows their relation, yet they don't just copy-opposites which are the same, the paradox which follows them through the whole show.

Love and Consuming

One of the biggest opposites of their persons are their view on love and the crave of consuming.

The view on Hannibal from this very part is explained and throughfully reflected on by my friend, the point of Will's view is my thoughts, put in the box of theirs way to formulate.

Hannibal

Hannibal wants to consume-he craves it, but what does consuming actually mean at this point? It means to fully understand, perhaps for some people even controll, though I'd argue about Hannibal being one of them-not throughfully for sure. (He does controll Will, his becoming, he manipulates, but later Will starts to controll and manipulate back. We will come back to this.) It means to know, accept fully, to see. But after he consumed, maybe not wholly-he got consumed back. He doesn't expect that in the slightest-that explains his reactions on Will's obsence, how much he underestimates his love and need for Will-he got consumed, conjoined even, or started to be there and then.

Will

Will, from the other side, wants to be consumed. He wants to loose himself in Hannibal, loose himself in this connection, become one. He is ready to accept and understand, and with Hannibal and his will to consume and be accepted it is a perfect match, that is why they are so great for each other. Later, after he is somewhat consumed, Will bites back: Hannibal underestimated that when you consume, you are vournerable, and he simply acted back. Will manipulated and gained control on Hannibal just as he did to him. They conjoined, just had different pathes of coming to this state.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #will graham #hannigram #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #murder husbands #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv #hannibal and will #will and hannibal #hannibal x will #will x hannibal #hannibal reflection #hannibal analysis #hannibal theory #fan theory #analysis #reflection #william speaking #cunn1ngboy speaks #cunn1ngboys analysis #gifpicset #hannibal twotl #the wrath of the lamb #mizumono #hannibal the wrath of the lamb #hannibal mizumono #personal favs

[heliosrisingheroesimagines]

Hello! May I ask for Faith with yellow tulips, sweet pea and red rose? 🌹

thank you so much for running this blog, you’re definitely a warm highlight in many people’s life 🩷

Faith Beams:

🌻red rose: what turns them on the most? 

Having genuine, overwhelming affection suddenly filling his chest gave him an energy that he could only think of doing one thing with. It could be anything innocent, any show of love like doing a task he was actively avoiding, or having a conversation where it showed you truly listened to him. It made him want to kiss you all over, it made him want to return those good feelings by making you feel good in the way he knew how to. There is plenty of passionate, spur-of-the-moment sex where Faith couldn’t help but cling to you in a moment of weakness as he realized just how down bad he was.

🌻sweet pea: are they big on cuddling? what is their favorite position to cuddle their s/o in?

Faith could take it or leave it. He had never been a huge cuddler but it’s not like he’d ever deny you if you wanted to cuddle. He liked it much more after he began dating you, obviously, as he just liked dating overall more after he settled in with you. Expressing affection can still be awkward and mortifying and leave him itchy but it felt nice knowing it wouldn’t be held against him. You don’t push him to do things he doesn’t want to and that leads him to fulfilling your requests even if it’s not something he’s naturally inclined to do.

When cuddling he liked it best when you laid your head on his chest, with him on his back comfortably posed so that you could both be happy. It’s easier to talk when he doesn’t have to look at your eyes, finding he’s a little more loose-lipped when you’re spending time together like this. You get a lot of confessions out of Faith this way, knowing he hated when you saw him blush but keeping the fact you hear his quickening heartbeat with great clarity in this position a secret.

🌻yellow tulips: if their s/o is sad, what would they do to make them smile again?

Faith is pretty aware of your moods and what can improve them or make them worse. It can be as simple as him offering an apology and bringing a gift, or taking you out on a spontaneous date so you don’t just mope at home. It really depends on what upset you but he’ll find the time to improve your mood and hopefully get you smiling again, or his own mood would be suffering with you the next few days.

#Helios Rising Heroes #Helios Rising Heroes x Reader #Helios Rising Heroes Imagines #HeliosR #Helios Rising #Helios Rising Imagines #Helios Rising x Reader #Faith Beams #Faith Beams x Reader #Plant Meme

[forecast0ctopus]

hi there, I love your art! if you have time to answer, I was wondering if you have any tips or recommendations for drawing in a more expressive or cartoony style? I've been drawing for years but I always get caught up in the weeds and end up adding way too many details that don't necessarily look bad, but are too stiff and over-detailed. I really admire the way you capture so much in such clean lines, if you have any thoughts or advice I would love to hear them - thanks for sharing your art, have a great day!

ah thanks so much, i really appreciate it!! i totally get where youre coming from tho, i really tend to get caught up in the small things too (the amount of sketch layers i have on finished things is stupid lmao). anyways yes theres a few things i do to help myself out of that pattern!! im not all that great at putting things into words but hopefully the pictures help haha putting it under the cut because it'll probably end up long sorry

i cant speak for everybody but this is what i do! heres how i tend to approach my initial sketches:

i like to keep it minimal here so i can focus on the pose over everything else, i try to do it in one pass and not worry about the anatomy. usually i do a few of these kind of sketches before i figure out something i like. also something ive found recently is that, for me, zooming in and doing these sketches really tiny helps because i dont have the space to add in detail. i do this a lot when i thumbnail a sequence to storyboard (usually on paper tho) and it helps me focus on the idea over the drawing

after that i like to focus on shapes!

if theyre a character with loose fitting clothes i usually won't sketch out much anatomy and just get into the shapes of the clothes bc then i dont get too particular with proportions and all. im gonna state here that this is not an excuse to not study anatomy tho and the reason that this works out for me is because i have studied it haha

getting into details of things, i kind of try to walk the line between too little and too much? like with clothes the details i like to get are wrinkles at bent joints and obvious seams. with wrinkles i try to only do one, maybe two, because it can get excessive fast.

seams are really good for establishing the direction things are facing, like to read volume in 3D space. the ones ill pretty much always include (unless theyre not present in the clothing worn) are shoulder seams and pants seams. in my experience shoulder seams are great at telling the fit of a shirt without a ton of detail!

lmao heres a collage of expressions for an example. as far as faces go i like to exaggerate mouths and eyebrows a lot lmao its kind of hard for me to put into words my process here. i really like dot eyes bc i feel like i can do a lot with em in combination with lines. tho i dont usually use em on finished artwork. eyebrows and mouth are primarily what i use to establish a facial expression, though sometimes ill throw in a scrunched nose if the expression calls for it.

the whole "clean lines" bit really does help with making sure things dont look too cluttered, and the way to approach that for me is doing your line in just one stroke (maybe two if u want it darker but thats besides the point lmao) but yeah drawing from your shoulder, not having a hairy line, etc really helps not clutter your drawing anyways i think thats about it for expressiveness and clean lines idk if youve got anything more to ask ill answer to the best of my ability

TL;DR i try to focus on shapes and pose, and putting in just enough details to make action/expression read well

#ask #anon #i hope this is what you were looking for? im not that great at putting things into words haha #sorry i took a min to get to this ask haha i had to figure out what i wanted to say

[ssalballoon]

What are your favourite art books? 💕💕love your work

thank you! 🌟 oh artbooks?! that's actually a really interesting question hmm... I don't physically own any (expensive ⚰️) but I've seen them online for some games and artists I like! idk how interesting they'll be if you're not into those specific games but nonetheless i think the art is a treat to see even without context! i'll answer under the cut, this ended up being rly long

Dai Gyakuten Saiban 1 & 2 / The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles (Kazuya Nuri)

- Nuri's soft lilac shading is so beautiful + unique to his art! I also appreciate that this artbook is mainly full of sketches and renders you don't see in game. They're so expressive, I wish other artbooks had more doodles of the characters goofing off, you can tell Nuri loves these characters a lot hehe (how often can you say the lead artist drew april fool's furry designs + canon animal plushie designs for the mcs)

the doodles that really stuck out to me are spoilers so i won't share those, but they really feel like snippets from a slice of life anime which humanizes the characters so well

Fire Emblem Echoes (Hidari)

- Hidari's designs are so classy and elegant, the way his fabrics all have a palpable weight and texture to them, and his coloring is so warm... there's a good reason why his designs keep getting circulated with praise every once in a while hehe. I really hope they bring him back for another game!

a personal favourite... she's very pretty!!

(on a side note i rly love Nuri and Hidari's female character designs, it's refreshing to see! not to say that modest designs are inherently better than more fanservicey ones, but i find that the female character designs are even more memorable because of it! it's mainly a personal preference)

Fire Emblem Awakening + Fates (Kozaki Yusuke)

- god of drawing armor and anatomy in perspective... his poses are so dynamic because of his mastery of foreshortening. I love seeing his work in Heroes, it only continues to get better over the years! plus he designed Lucina and Inigo so :D

as much as i love his artbooks my favorite art from him comes from fe heroes! his units have the most unique posing in the game, it always makes me excited to see more of his art (i especially love how conscious/deliberate he is with body types in his designs)

Persona 5/ 4/ P4 Arena Ultimax (Shigenori Soejima)

- Soejima's art influenced my artstyle a lot back in 2017(?) and 2021! (I mainly enjoy his b&w rougher style since it's so bold and also a fun style to draw in, although his painted stuff is fantastic as well) I enjoy seeing the Persona designs since they're so different to what I usually draw and it's really hard to capture the grace he draws them with (especially P4's)

this video of Shigenori Soejima drawing live changed me in 2017

persona 4/arena ultimax have my favorite persona designs out of the modern games!

Death Stranding (Yoji Shinkawa)

- It's a shame you don't see Yoji Shinkawa's artwork in the game much (to my knowledge) because it's stunning how vivid, gritty, and yet effortlessly elegant it is. The monster designs are so haunting gahhh it's so cool! The mastery he has with ink and brush is insane he can be so loose with the lines and yet it conveys everything you need to know

the full body ink sketch of die hardman... it's so loose and yet it's very controlled aghh it's so impressive (i saw hunter schafer got her portrait drawn by him and like. imagine yoji shinkawa drawing you. ohmygod)

Okami (Takeyasu Sawaki, Kenichiro Yoshimura, Mari Shimazaki)

- when I was in middle school I didn't even know games could look like this?! The obvious traditional Japanese art influence makes the designs really unique even compared to modern games. The calligraphic brush strokes are so striking and I especially love the subtle ink bleed outside of the outlines, it honors traditional media so well. honestly this game's style in general is one of a kind

love how playful these are! i forgot how much i loved this game

Journey (Matthew Nava)

- (although it is an artbook I've only been able to see a few of the pages! Nava does have an archived GDC talk where he presents the book that I still have to take a look at) I found the color script for the complete story interesting since it shows both the color corresponding with the literal height of the mountain for the hero's journey that the game was so inspired by. Plus the alternate designs for the iconic main character are so cute!

masterfully crafted experience... i think this is the first time i've seen a color script for a game? (although i guess i'm not that familiar with games)

These aren't actual art books but I really like the concept art for them:

Transistor (Jen Zee)

- my favorite Supergiant game! It's a shame there's so little of the concept art out there (I'm pretty sure I saw more years ago but I couldn't find them more recently... link rot grr...) Jen Zee's painterly style is gorgeous and the colors are so warm, so uncharacteristic of the cyberpunk genre we're typically familiar with! her art was also a big inspiration for me when I was younger

Apex Legends

- apex does have an artbook but l mainly enjoy looking at the character designs and the transition screens for compositions (especially the season 4 Revenant's trailer ones, one day I hope my background/environment art can reach a level anywhere close to that). The character designs and overall setting are different from my usual style so it's cool to see the attention to detail in fabric texture, prop design, worldbuilding, etc. and try to apply it to my designs

this transition has such a strong sense of narrative in the illustration, it impressed me so much i drew something inspired by it (i'm not sure who the original artist is, i thiiink it's liam mcdonald...?? i really hope i'm not misattributing it;; out of the concept artists his illustrations look the most similar...?)

I'm interested in Outer Wilds' artbook and Disco Elysium's but I don't think I can look at those without spoilers! both phenomenal games that i really need to finish (i know outer wilds' main story but not echoes of the eye)

hit the limit on pictures 😔 and i've been sitting on this ask for a while... I feel like there are more artbooks that aren't coming to mind ahh I should really keep track of them better! thank you for the ask, it was nice to revisit these again 💞

#my asks #anonymous #this took a while bcs i wanted to hunt down the artbooks + write my thoughts on the art instead of just listing them

[bio1]

I'm starting a new series were I review random transformers figures in my collection.

Transformer review 1: Earthspark deluxe twitch

The figures appear is very accurate to how she appeared in the show, With her skinny body and there adorable face. I love the fact they gave her a smile instead of having the usual default stoic expression most transformer have.

There is a bit of hollow spot on the back of the arms and legs but they don't bother me at all. especially since the alt mode kibble fill out most of the space.

Her articulation is pretty great for a deluxe. With have all the stuff you expect from a modern transformer figure (like waist swivel and ankle tilt) with stuff that helps her pose even better, like ball jointed head able to look all the way up, ball jointed feet, ball jointed wings and fans, and a deep knee bend.

As for the few negative, her chest can sometimes easily untab and her legs can be loose pending on the qc of your figure.

Also see has amazing light piping!

As for accessories she comes with her blaster that covers one of her arms or can be store on the back of the figure.(though it pops off if you use the waist swivel)

Her transformation into her drone mode can be difficult at first but you can get used to it. If you are having problems keeping together, make sure you put the blaster on there and if that doesn't work you can sand down the two tabs next to her wing's.

Her alt mode great by itself but I highly recommend getting a flight stand for it.

My final thought is this is a great figure and I highly recommend getting it, especially if you like the character. I give it a 9/10

#transformers #tf earthspark #transformers earthspark #earthspark #tfe #maccadam #earthspark twitch #transformers toys #transformers twitch #twitch malto #transformers figures

[2hoothoots]

Just wanted to say that I absolutely adore how you draw Older!Raz. The energy you give to his facial features is so expressive and I love how dynamic the lines-of-action are in his posing, even when he's doing something fairly restrained/static. He feels like A Guy That Moves and his mood/thought process comes through in his body language even at a glance.

thank you so much!!

my biggest inspiration for how i draw older Raz is the eponymous Lupin from Lupin III. i just love the energy in the character design and acting; there's a kind of looseness but also so much motion these noodle-y poses, like a rubber band or a coiled spring. like, look at these, these are so great!!! that motion and energy is exactly the thing i try to capture when I'm drawing FSAU Raz, so I'm really glad to hear i hit my mark!

#when i'm drawing the trio i try to give all three of them their own shape language #lili is a trapezoid #dogen is a circle #and raz is a cooked piece of spaghetti someone threw at a wall #BUT FOR REAL thank you so much! those are really kind words #i'm still picking away at learning to draw humans so it means a lot to hear i'm getting some of it right lol #ask

[alena-draws]

Hello Alena! i Love your loose sketchy but colorful art style! 😍 I'm a fellow artist but for years i've struggled with trying to just sketch and be loose. I'm always taking even just a post-it-note sketch so seriously and automatically try to be a perfectionist and add in all the details! it's frustrating since i also can't get all i want to sketch done because i'm being meticulous with each sketch. even with just a simple lineart sketch. you're so great and wonderful at what i'm trying to accomplish. do you please have any advice?? 😫😩😵🥴 I love how you do the smooth lineart and expressions for the Bnha characters btw!

Hi! First of all, thanks, I'm glad you like my stuff! <3 I actually have a friend who's quite similiar in that aspect, she can draw super well, putting hours of work into one drawing until it looks perfect. That's a dedication that I admire, because I'd never have the patience to spend so much energy for one artwork! On the other hand, I see how that could get in the way of wanting to work faster and looser. I've always scribbled and sketched a lot, so when I struggled it was always the other way round, having to learn not to rush things. But I'm sure it's something that can be learnt as it is with pretty much everything :) I'll try to give you advice of what I think might be helpful, but different people like to work in different ways, so some of that might end up just not working for you, while other stuff might. (I'll be putting this under a cut, this could get longer)

One thing that might be helpful could be the medium you draw on! When drawing in a new sketchbook or having a nice white sheet of paper in front of you, I tended to get intimidated and think that I need to fill this paper with something nice and beautiful, so as not to "waste" it. Especially with new sketchbooks, I think everybody knows that feeling...Now, nearly all drawings and sketches I do are done on left over paper from me and my partner, stuff that would have been thrown away otherwise because one side is already printed on. It takes away the pressure of having to give it your all, because, if it would land in the trash either way, I can't ruin or waste it by doing only sketches and little doodles.

While we're talking about mediums, you might try changing the pencil. I'd try something that won't give you such clean lines, so that simply by using this pen, you are already limited to how detailed you can get. I enjoy using coloured pencils now and then, like a red polychromo, they allow me to make light sketches and then, when I put more pressure on it, I can simply draw with the same pencil over the sketch, but making the newer lines stand out more and thus putting focus on special parts of the drawing. This is sometimes not that easy with a normal lead pencil, black will always stand out more than a light red for example. I also like to draw with 2B or 4B for sketches, and don't sharpen the pencil too often. :) Keeps the line a bit blurry sometimes, and I can put a quick shading on if I want.

Now, getting more to some actual drawing advice, learning to be quick with a drawing, without caring so much about how it might end up looking, this might be something you'll have to properly learn doing...like, for example, setting yourself time limits for a drawing. A classic, though still good way to do this, is by using figure drawing videos like this. It will show the person being in different poses for maybe 1, 2 minutes (later on it will get longer) and that's the time you have for one pose, not longer. It's tiresome and overwhelming at first because you won't know where to start, but it will actually give you a feeling for movement of the body, learning which lines to draw, and which you can leave out and still convey the body language and make it a convincing, realistic sketch. In a way, what you want to achieve with a sketch is often quickly show a scene, or a pose that you want the character to be in. It doesn't have to look beautiful or cleaned up, but it must be (or at least it would be nice if it were) convincing, using only a few lines, but conveying what a finished drawing will or could look like in the end. That's where figure drawing lessons are really helpful, because it will help you get a feeling for how you can quickly make a character look like they are e.g. sitting, or angry, or ready to jump in the air...and so on. Phew, I could talk a lot more about this, and I would eventually end back up at me advicing everybody to learn anatomy, but it's always a question of what you want to achieve in the end, and if that is really necessarry for you and where you want to go with your drawings :)

Hm, another small thing might be no try not using your eraser for sketches? Just put it out of reach, and if there's a line you don't like, either ignore it, draw over it, or start anew. I'm wondering if this is actually helpful or just stressful, but it might be worth trying out. It might help to get past the idea, that your sketches have to look good!

For now, that's kinda all I can think about. This topic is super interesting though! I might not be the best person to give advice here, so maybe ask different people too for their approaches. If I can think of any more stuff, I'll write that in another post, for now I hope this is someway helpful, even it's not that much! Good luck with your art!

#asks #drawing

[thetrashywritingwitch]

Eyy I've also studied animation lol though mostly for games. I wanna ask, what's your favorite and least favorite part of the animation process? Personally I love storyboarding because of how loose you can be with it and I find that's when I'm at my most creative! Btw love your works! ❤️

so i'm not actually an "animator" i guess, but i'm a part of the "animation" pipeline. officially, my title is Character Rig Artist and I work 99% in Harmony making character rigs for animated shows that THEN get sent off to the animation team. I also do minor character design, character turns, expression and mouth sheets, etc.

I've never done storyboarding and also have -1000 desire to learn even though being in SB greatly increases your chances of advancing up into higher positions bc, in my experience, storyboarders are like the "golden children" of the pipeline. of course, that comes with a ton of pressure and it honestly seems like one of the hardest positions to sink your teeth into. so the fact that you like it is GREAT bc i dont!!! kljaldfj i hate drawing landscapes, perspective, CARS???? no!!! i'm squarely in the "i wanna sketch and take a character to final" camp. my position at my prev job was basically as a keyframe artist, drawing static poses with finished, clean art that animators would tween.

the thing is, i never saw myself going into animation?? i didn't study animation at all lol but DAMN DID I NEED A JOB AND HEALTH INSURANCE HUH??/!!! got very lucky, learned a lot, and overally i do enjoy what i do... just wish i had more time and energy for *my own* creative stuff. i've never made a rig that's just MINE. honestly, it'd be so fun to make a lil Dynamy rig and have him boppin along crying for crepes.

also THANK U FOR LIKE MY WRITE!!!!

[grabmyflabs]

My introduction into this world was an interesting one. For the longest time (a few years to be exact) I hid away from any interaction that would make me visible to others. I sat at home and spent my nights at comedy clubs. Taking advantage of every pizza special and half priced wing night the world I occupied had to offer. I felt myself grow. Slowly. But all the evidence was there. Tighter pants. Shirts that were too tight around the armpits and chest. Pants that were regular or loose fit now becoming slim fit. Crushing my goolies and inducing sweating I dare not speak about. I felt the weight as well. My knees would hurt. And a brisk jog up any set of stairs would take its toll on my ankles. I felt my body jump and jiggle when I made quick movements, sometimes throwing me off balance. I felt ashamed of myself. And with this shame followed a plethora of late night food outings where I would gorge myself to the doorstep of suffocation. I could not let any food go to waste as I couldn’t even afford to buy it in the first place. I enjoyed this punishment, and hated myself at the same time. Both felt great though.

You’d be hard pressed to have me take my shirt off. It was never going to happen. It was my safety net. What an image that is to think about. A pasty white fat standing at the edge of the bed. A sweaty carcass, heavily breathing with a deprived pud in his hand. For the sake of saving the stories for a later time I’ll keep it short and say that I was shamed for how fat I got. It was infuriating. I couldn’t do anything about it. I literally couldn’t help myself. Ever single instance burned into my memory for an eternity!

This feeling of shame ultimately changed when I met my girlfriend. Our first date I thought I’d pose for a photo she was taking in a funny way by sticking my undercover gut out and grabbing it as if I was proud of being this fat. I hid it so well. There was a pause in her execution of the photo. I saw it for a moment in her eyes that she genuinely enjoyed what I had just pulled off. Nevertheless, it became an afterthought till about a few weeks later when she asked if she could share something with me about what she enjoys in the bedroom. Surely what I thought was coming was that she enjoyed being pissed on or enjoys a bit of ass play. To be completely honest I would have totally obliged. But the bombshell she dropped truly changed me in a way I would have never imagined. “I like being fed” and am really into feedism. I didn’t understand at first. Thinking this was some sort of code. But no. She liked eating. And having food “involved”. A wire was crossed in my mind and the erotica brain took over. I began to recite fantasies on the fly. Each suggestion was met with a meaningful moan through the phone. As if every word I was saying to her was something she needed to hear and gave her more and more life with each syllable spoken.

Once this revelation had come to light I began to notice how much of a spell my eating habits put on her. With each portion forced into my mouth she’d cease everything she was doing and observe me. Like I was some circus freak that she’d never seen before. And let’s face it, I was. I am a bottomless pit when it comes to good food and she was beginning to see that with ever meal we had together. Each burp i’d hide would make her back arch and every moan expressing my delight for what I just inhaled would make her shoulders relax and forget where we were and what we were doing. She may not admit this but every time we enjoy a buffet style meal she always piles a Mount Kilimanjaro worth of food on her plate and never finishes it. I know what she’s playing at when she does this. Knowing I’ll never say no, she looks over at me from across the table and asks “can you finish this for me?” I smirk because her and I both know what she really wants to say is, “eat up, you fat piggy”

So now I find myself with a inexplicable sense of comfort and arousal. She embodies all the things I love and enjoy, and prods me towards exploring this avenue I did not know existed. And let me tell you. I love it. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be able to openly gorge myself and inhale everything she throws my way, only to be rewarded with her bent over the bed, begging me to lay my freshly filled gut over the arch of her back. It fits so well.

#feed me #stuffed fatty #fat gut #hungry #fat belly #fatty #fat piggy

[inceptionart]

Featuring Mo @archangelgabriel​ today for the artist highlight! Read on for their thoughts on art, and you can find all of their wonderful artwork here!

🎨 When did you start creating art for the Inception fandom, and what is your inspiration?

i started making art when i joined the "you're waiting for a train" discord server, so i want to say… 2019? some of my inspirations have gotta be the wonderful whirl @noitsnacktime, who is an awesome person who makes awesome art, and salt @ffc1cb, whose artwork and poses and expressions are just so lovely and fluid. another inspiration of mine who i followed really closely back in my supernatural days (which are not very far behind me) is @clickbaitcowboy​. he has this awesome rendering style and way of drawing bodies that i definitely try to imitate sometimes.

🎨 Tell us about your creative process, and which part do you enjoy the most about it?

oh, god. i have so many different styles and i make art so haphazardly that it's hard to say. first i generally have a dumb idea, and i try to get it down as soon as possible so i don't forget it. a lot of the time i don't have drawing materials with me, so I end up writing it down. then generally i do a kind of "thumbnail", which for me is usually just a stick figure i draw to get my poses down. then, i blow up my stick figure to the full canvas size (thank you digital art!) and i draw a sketch directly on top of it. depending on what kind of look i'm going for, after that i either line over my sketch or i just start a new layer and go straight to painting. i'm a psychopath who can't ever keep my layers organized, so i often do all my painting and rendering on one layer, and make more as needed.

my favorite part is probably rendering skin and fabric. i draw a lot of people and not much else, so other materials (including HAIR) are generally hard for me. folds are tricky but when painting you can kind of bullshit it until it turns out alright.

🎨 Link us to your first and latest artwork, and how your style has evolved since then?

my actual first digital artwork has definitely been lost to time. i might have a couple of old sketchbook gems i can pull out for y'all.

oh yeah, baby. none of my sketchbook pages are dated, but i'm pretty sure this is from when i was ~13. i think it's supposed to be me? this one is from when i was 11. look at that shitty anime! also from when i was 11, i remember my best friend signing the adjacent page of this in the courtyard, actually.

but for what i'll call this phase of my artistic life, my oldest artwork on tumblr is… pretty recent, actually. probably this drawing of castiel from mid-late 2019. my latest artwork on tumblr would be these arthureames sketches and i guess my latest artwork ever would have to be this drawing i did of a character for artfight just last night (5/29), though it was pretty rushed and low-effort. [find me on artfight under icedhotcocoa, btw!!]

i can't really pinpoint what's changed as i'm kind of constantly changing and growing, but i'm definitely more comfortable with drawing now. i'm also way better at using reference and capturing likeness. plus, i know my strengths and i play to them more! portraits and more sketchy, loose styles are honestly way more for me than anything as cleanly lined as that cas. switching from autodesk sketchbook to procreate was a pretty significant jump for me, actually, and i think i really started putting more effort in then. that castiel was the last sketchbook drawing i ever did. sayonara, autodesk.

🎨 What is your absolute favorite piece of art that you've made, and why?

sadly, i have chronic "don't post art" syndrome and a lot of my artwork has been lost in the great art purge of 2020 (I left my ipad in a rental car and never backed up any of my work so it's gone forever). but i think i can scrounge something up.

since i actually finish works semi-infrequently, my favorite art always tends to be my most recent art as i'm still studying! I think this welcome to night vale portrait or this arthureames drawing are my top two, both from mid-late last year.

i'm now realizing i've only made one actually complete 100 percent finished artwork this year. that's bad.

🎨 What is something about Inception that you really want to make art for someday, and why?

OH! I've actually always wanted to make fanart for some of my favorite fics, but i get insecure because part of me is like "mo this fic is from 2011 what are you doing". i know, it's dumb. a couple i have in mind are orbit by @finelydressedspacemen​, and my most favorite fic of all time, through centuries of nerve by ester_inc.

🎨 Give a shoutout to your favorite Inception artists here!

AH FUCK! well, the aforementioned @noitsnacktime​ and @ffc1cb. i've never spoken to @mizunoir personally but their art is just jaw-dropping, and an artist i've just discovered on tumblr is @birdlawco, whose work is really cute and wonderful.

🎨 Anything else you'd like to talk about art and the Inception fandom in general ❤

art is hard, and awful, and terrible, and i hate it. but also art is wonderful and amazing and incredible and i can't think of anything else i'd rather do, and every time I say "UAGHRGEU I HATE ART I'M NEVER DRAWING AGAIN!!!" someone always says "no you don't, no you won't" and it's true! so to all my lovely and talented artists and fanartists out there, keep on keepin on!

just struck me that i joined this fandom when i was 14 and i am, like, fully 17 right now, which is crazy. i'm still pretty young compared to a lot of veterans, but this fandom has been a pretty massive part of my teenage development as much as the fanart i've made for it as a part of my artistic development. stay awesome, yall. thanks for the years. happy dozenth inceptiversary, gang!

#inception artist highlight #inceptiversary #inception #archangelgabriel