#heat blast

[tyquu]

I don’t draw the aliens enough 👍 (on a side note, my wrist is in agony)

Edit: the quality is messed up if you don’t click it :((

[mustasekittens]

gwen and kevin sketch ill color eventually

some older sketches from 2020 under the cut

old ass sketches but in case you wanted to see the first time i drew kevin lmao

[ash-arts-a-thing]

Drew @benjidrawsstuff her fave aliens 🥰🥰

[sun-shrike]

HEAT BLAST IS BACK AHHHH AHHHHH AHHH 🔥🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

i’m so tired today, the nerves of school and everything are so blegh but hey at least i have ben 10! it’s bringing endless joy and also i love drawing heat blast SO much

(this is the first time i’ve used the motion blur effect on procreate and idk how i feel about it tbh)

[photoscreencaps]

[xivartref]

Heat Blast

[playedcrowd5610]

Ben 10 Alien merge: Heat Blast + Ripjaws.

[bruciemilf]

I wonder how many times Clark and the batkids + Alfred revived Bruce with the Lazarus Pit and just never told him abt it

[genderfeel]

can i give it up to you? would that be okay?

[piconoodle]

👀

watch wrestling. for the plot

[tangerisms]

incredible no notes

[decaffeinated-heads]

A very smooth rock, like my brain

[definitelynotshouting]

woe, out of context scarian kisses be upon ye

Scar pauses. Pulls back to examine him, eyes flitting across his face; they backtrack several times, searching, an intense light growing inside them as Scar finds whatever he must be looking for. Grian endures it with reddening cheeks and a galloping heart that slowly sinks into his stomach the longer Scar studies him.

Grian opens his mouth– to say what, he's unsure, but something's got to give– when Scar finally stops, eyes round, and says, "Oh."

Then: "Oh, Grian."

And that's far too much to handle tonight. "Right," Grian says miserably, getting an elbow underneath him, "right, I'm just going to go then–"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Scar cries, lurching forward to grab Grian's wrist. "Hang on a second, I didn't even say anything!"

"You didn't have to, Scar, I can– I can read it in your face." Grian tugs at his wrist, but Scar doesn't let go; only tightens his fingers, dragging Grian back down toward the mattress. "Scar–"

"Grian." Scar matches him tone for tone. Then he smiles, sudden and blinding. "Can you hold still for a minute? Everything's fine, just trust me!"

"Trust you?" Grian snaps without thinking– then balks as a flicker of hurt darts across Scar's face. Ice fills the pit of his stomach, cold and stinging. "Sorry, I– I didn't mean to say that, I'm sorry," Grian stumbles out, frantic. Anything to erase that expression from Scar's face, that perilous stillness. "That's– that was rude. I didn't mean it."

Scar takes a deep, careful breath, eyes closing. "Yeah, it was rude," he says after a beat, "but I wasn't being very clear, and you're distressed. So I'm sorry too."

Grian's insides curdle. "Stop– Scar. I'm not distressed, you're making me sound like a damsel."

When Scar opens his eyes again, only a hint of that previous distance remains; instead they're brimming with warm exasperation, and a lot more patience than Grian deserves. "G," Scar says, far too gentle, "relax. Please. It's okay. Everything's okay right now, I'm not mad, I– I'm not upset." Another smile tilts the corners of his mouth; Grian's lungs flutter. "Quite the opposite, actually, if you'd sit still enough to listen."

Grian stares at him, throat drying out. "What do you mean?" he manages.

Scar eyes him for a moment, then carefully lets go of Grian's wrist. The warmth dissipates immediately; Grian misses it with a longing he does his best to hide.

It must not be enough, though, because Scar makes an aborted little sound in the back of his throat, and raises his hand to cup Grian's cheek.

Grian freezes like a startled rabbit, pulse thrumming in his ears. The foreign weight of Scar's hand radiates heat outward, spreading molasses slow through his skin and igniting beneath his skin. He stares, useless, at Scar's arm before trailing his gaze back up to meet his face.

The smile on Scar's lips has taken a wry turn. "I like it too, Grian," he says, and there's so much compassion in his voice that Grian nearly flinches. "I like spending time with you, and I especially like spending time with you here." He raises his eyebrows with a meaningful arch, glancing briefly down at the mattress they're sitting on.

"In your bed," Grian says anyway, flat as he can make it. The phrase nearly cracks against his teeth.

"Well when you put it like that–"

"Scar."

"So maybe I like cuddling you," Scar says mildly. "Is that such a huge crime?"

Grian opens his mouth to retort, but no sound scrapes out. He snaps his jaw shut instead, staring at Scar with huge eyes.

He can't hope. It's stupid to hope; they've been friends for years, only friends, and Scar has never– Grian can't think of a single time he might've once–

But Scar is giving him that look again. The soft one. The one filled with so much warmth it threatens to scald Grian's frostbitten fingertips if he reaches too close. His hands itch– he wants to hold Scar's hand, tap his fingers against his pulsepoint and listen to it tick; press his thumb into the hinge of Scar's jaw and lean forward, so he can–

"Can I kiss you?" Scar asks, quiet and tender, a spark of hope catching in his voice, and Grian's mind blanks.

"I– what?" Grian asks eventually, very faint.

It's Scar's turn to go red. "I mean– I'm not reading this wrong, right? Because you kinda just admitted to... liking me? Romantically? Unless I have completely misinterpreted that, in which case that is, um, very misfortunate for me, actually."

"No, I– you want to. Really?" Grian ignores the mispronunciation; instead, that little kernel of hope that Grian's been stubbornly trying to stamp out kicks back to life, fluttering around in his throat. "You're not joking, are you?"

"Grian, I would never joke about this," Scar says solemnly, and against all odds, Grian believes him.

Slowly, uncomprehending, Grian nods. "Yeah," he says, and it comes out hesitant, breathy, barely on the outskirts of sound. "I– yes. Please."

Scar's smile turns into a grin, self-satisfied and smug. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he says, and–

And his hold firms against Grian's cheek; his fingers tangle in the back of Grian's hair; his hand is guiding Grian forward, gentle but insistent, and Scar is leaning down–

It's not what Grian expects, actually– not that he was expecting much of anything. Scar's lips press soft against his own, a steady pressure that tingles onto Grian's tongue. Slowly, his lips part, urging Grian's open, and with that same, gentle insistence, he coaxes Grian into a slow, heady kiss, lips closing over his cupid's bow before opening again, sliding down to catch his lower lip next. Grian shudders into it, following Scar's rhythm; his head is tilted, just slightly, enough to deepen the angle and deepen the kiss.

Their lips slide against each other, and Scar's right hand comes up to frame Grian's face, winding through his hair and pulling him closer. Grian fumbles to cling back, hands fluttering until they find purchase on his shoulders; after a moment of hesitation, he loops them around Scar's neck, sinking his own fingers into the long hair cascading down his back. Scar melts into it, a soft noise slipping from his throat, humming against Grian's lips. It shoots straight into his stomach– Grian pushes closer, something hungry and desperate opening inside of him, clamoring to swallow Scar whole.

His head is spinning; when Scar sweeps a thumb across his cheek, Grian mentally chases the sensation, every point of contact between them a steady burn. He is fire, sparking and crackling, and Scar is the tinder– coaxing him into a proper flame, teeth tugging at his lower lip to make him hiss. Grian follows each sensation blindly, etching it into his nervous system; maybe if he keeps it here, hollows out his bones to makes a home for it, this memory will never, ever leave him.

It ends too soon; Scar pulls back eventually, but not very far. He tips his forehead to touch Grian's, their noses brushing; warm air fans over Grian's face, intimate and paralyzing. Grian doesn't quite pant, but he does end up needing a moment to catch his breath before he can speak.

"Wow," is what he eventually lands on. "Okay. You've been holding out on me, mister."

"Not my fault you never said anything," Scar murmurs, tapping his thumb against Grian's cheekbone. He leans back in, pressing another soft, sweet kiss to Grian's lips before pulling away again. "I've been gone on you for ages."

Grian sucks in a deep, shuddering breath; something beneath his sternum is beginning to crack, letting out soft, incredulous light. "You're telling me," he says, "that we could've been doing this from the start."

"Well, not the start," Scar says, clearly amused. "But pretty close to it."

"I hate you." Grian's voice is petulant.

"You love me."

"Kiss me again," Grian demands, in lieu of responding to that just yet.

"Jeez." Scar's eyes are twinkling in the low light. He slowly trails one hand down to Grian's shoulder, rubbing up and down his upper arm and leaving goosebumps. "Let a guy take a breather for a second. Patience is a virtue, y'know."

"I have never been patient even once in my life, Scar, and you know it."

Scar pauses, considering him with lidded eyes. "No," he says finally, but it's layered with fondness. "I guess not." He presses a quick, teasing kiss against Grian's nose; Grian wrinkles it, then musters his courage and dives in for another kiss. When he pulls back, Scar is beaming at him. "Good thing I like you anyway."

"Only because you have terrible taste," Grian informs him, before reeling him back in and kissing him again for quite some time.

[cat-cosplay]

Heat Vision or Concussive Blast?

[sun-shrike]

WATCH OUT ITS HEATBLAST!! 🔥🔥🔥

i was watching ben 10 classic and i just love the og design of heatblast SOOO much, and also heatblast is so fun to draw hello? hello? i need to draw him more he’s so fun

(edit- i changed the background colors to make him pop more and also i didn’t like his finger placement!)

[photoscreencaps]