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About Digital Art / Hobbyist Premium Member キミ18/Female/Canada Groups :iconterra-mortis: Terra-Mortis
More badass than it sounds
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Deviant for 4 Years
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Given by DustBunnyThumper
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under awful construction

f | 18 | canadaland

i'm a poor history major in second term college hiding from my responsibilities by drawing CUTE GIRLS AND GARBAGE. i enjoy long walks on the beach and making badly-executed dick jokes

in my spare time you can find me reading wikipedia articles and roleplaying angry boys






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Your chibis are so adorable.! :heart:
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bori-cha Mar 29, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
(1 Reply)
bori-cha Mar 29, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
The first time he said those three words to Albion was an accident. He got uproariously drunk (and never, ever again questioned Mrs. Phillips' claim that she could beat the best of Ireland) and much too comfortable with some barmaid. She said to him, "A drink on me, sugar," with a wink, and he happened to blurt out, "I love you".
"MacNeil, let's go back to the flat before you propose to everyone in this bar," Albion hissed between his clenched teeth.
"Well," he replied, "I love you too, so where's the problem?" His lieutenant, becoming a shade brighter, gave him a quick smack.
He paid for that comment the rest of the week with an astounding lack of blowjobs and general petting. He wouldn't admit it, but Albion knew his taste better than anyone, and nobody could really replace his bossy fingers and angry kisses. Even if bossypants' fingernails sometimes scraped his skin, and he was okay with that. More than okay, probably.
The second time he said it, it was a dark, cold night. He remembered the cold nights in the cockpit when he was still training on English soil, but they could not compare to the darkness and balls-freezing coldness of New York City. It was a biting sort of chill, the kind that gave his scars and bad eye a crackling tension that pained him so much. He cut his afternoon classes and went straight back to the flat--the flat that was increasingly becoming a messy nest shared by two lonely men who had nothing better to do than teach kids and fuck around. Literally.
He was taking a nap on their only couch, a dingy old thing with fraying red corduroy covering, when Albion came back home. In his hands was a bottle of painkillers. He silently set them aside on the coffee table and threw his coat over the dining chair before he went to wash his face.
"I love you," the inert patient breathed, who knew Albion wouldn't hear it over the running water.
"What?" the apparent savior replied a few seconds later.
"I said," he paused to wet his chapped lips, "Don't forget to wash the behind of your ears too."
It was then Albion stopped the tap, with a skeptical pause, before he tossed, "Not everyone's as dirty as you. I'm speaking in both senses." He ran the tap again.
The lazy lover just laughed, as he took the bottle and opened it.
The third time was absolutely baffling. They were lying together, enjoying a quiet afterglow. It was nearly summer then, when both teachers and students alike had to worry about damning final examinations. It seemed that they increasingly had more stress relieving activity than any passionate ones, and they both excused it with age. They would take any reason to share the bed, anyway.
"Did you get the box of Chianti in the mail, by the way?" Albion said suddenly, just remembering.
He gave it a brief thought. "No... What, were you going to surprise me with a romantic evening dinner?" He gave him his trademark toothy grin that usually accompanied his awful jokes.
"It's for grading, idiot." Albion gave him his own trademark 'your jokes are awful' look. "You think I'm actually going to grade those papers sober?"
He laughed in reply, rolling over to lie on his stomach. Somehow, he felt a tiny bit disappointed. Not at the hypothetical evening dinner, God no, but at their lack of personal free time together. That was mainly his fault anyway. He spent the time on booze and other people.
He buried his face into the pillow before grumbling, "I love you." It was an apology, or at least, it was supposed to be, and he couldn't believe he said it like that. Surprisingly, it wasn't completely strange to say.
"Wh-" Albion stopped right before it registered, and he stared, completely stunned. He wasn't drunk, and he certainly was in his right mind, considering they just enjoyed one of his favorite hobbies. Albion could then only conclude that he finally fucking said it.
He could hear a muffled, confused reply from his lieutenant.
"... I love you too."
Seth stopped counting from then on.
Alibastar Mar 11, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Your... Your under construction zone is hillarious... :'D
(1 Reply)
bori-cha Mar 11, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
reminder that i would totally draw fanart of like a lady and rima can't spell : )
(1 Reply)
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