#I wanna draw this but motivation non existent

[space-person-frfr]

Real tho, if someone making a sans-centered sees a confession saying that that person hates sans-centered aus it would just demotivate that person to continue their au, people sometimes don’t realise that we need ANY AND ALL aus we can* get to have the fandom stay alive, it’s literally what the fandom is made of!

Don’t demotivate people just because you don’t like a popular trope and if you really wanna get it of your chest, say it without talking too negatively about it!

Also this has been said a lot but make the content you want to see! (or something like that I don’t exactly remember) (also this includes aus where sans is not in the spotlight, dead, killed off or just non-existent, especially if it’s your way of expressing the fact that you don’t like aus that focus around sans without discouraging others)

You have no excuse! If you say you aren’t creative, you just need more inspiration and time.

If you say you can’t draw, write! (I’m sure if you are motivated enough and actively want to do it you can make some lovely art anyway)

If you say ya can’t write than you can just talk about the idea you have without writing fanficion, just a post talking about how the au works and the personality’s of characters and how they look, eventually people will see it and maybe make designs for your silly characters.

I draw a bit but it’s time consuming for me, so I wanna make posts about the characters I’m making when I have done enough world building. I also don’t have an excuse.

Even though not everyone can like what you’re making, someone will. Just think about that when feeling demotivated, someone likes or will like what you’re making, maybe your friends or family or just a complete stranger on the internet.

* edit: ANY AND ALL NON-PROBLEMATIC AUS WE CAN GET (Or else it’ll lead to drama and negativity and that would just cause more harm than good)

Transcript: y’know what, fuck it, i’ll say it, i LOVE when people self indulge themselves in the fandom! i fucking LOVE the sans centered aus!! I FUCKING LOVE the overpowered ocs that could solo fiction!!!

even the stuff i don’t really like (mostly) is worth loving! because i just MOTHERFUCKING LOVE people expressing their love for a game in the way they like to do it!!

[lleaudau]

This is what I imagine what Remadora wore at their wedding

[bluupity]

Currently reading Ao Ashi for the first time. 100+ chapters in with no hint of stopping the binge and I can officially say that this is in my personal top 3 favorites in sports manga, alongside Eyeshield 21 and Baby Steps. It's got great art, thorough character development + interesting characters, and engaging matches that really gets you pumped!!!

[doodledrawsthings]

Do you plan on there actually being a story for soss

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe, most likely a comic.

[oschonseleven]

bride of frankenstein cidutha send tweet

[daydreamgoddess14]

Barrelling through the wall into your asks for a ficmas request! 🎄Please may I have:

💃 Office Christmas Party with River (and if you can find it in your heart for there to be smut I will be forever grateful 🤭)

Merry Christmas! xx

Christmas Sprit(s)

Ahhh Alex! I'm so happy to give you this 😄

For @cillmequick - shenanigans at the work Christmas party with River. F!Reader insert - no use of y/n, l/n, smut lies within. Squint and you might just see some Lamb/Standish as well 🤭

Can we all guess which motivational video enabled me to complete this today?!

Merry Christmas! 🎄

You hated organised ‘fun’. 

Mostly because it was about as far from fun as you could possibly get. 

Forced proximity, fake laughter, god-awful jokes… all made ten times worse at Christmas.

Why on earth couldn’t you just be on your sofa, with a bottle of Baileys and that new Netflix film that combined Christmas and Magic Mike.

Why did you have to be fraternising? 

You’ve made somewhat of an effort at least, you’d only be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t crack out the glittery mini-skirt. It was a truly excellent skirt, it deserved to see the light of day at least a few times a year.

Roddy Ho had nearly tripped over his tongue when you walked in. 

You throw back the remains of your cocktail - hoping the tequila will kick in soon and save you from this misery.

Across the room, you spot River’s arrival. Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way his shirt brings out the bright blue of his eyes. He claps Ho on the back in greeting and shakes JK’s hand, eyes scanning the room for the others. 

Catherine is apparently in a standoff with the head waiter about the table location.

Lamb is next to her, insisting he doesn’t give a shit where the table is, as long as there is one. You notice his hand on the small of her back as he leans into her slightly. The small gesture seems to work, she brushes off the waiter and turns back to give Lamb her attention.

“This is fucking miserable.” Louisa mutters as she shoves another Paloma into your hand. 

“Yep. Thank fuck for tequila.” You clink your glasses together.

At the bar, Shirley is very quick to put her drink on River’s tab. She wanders over to you, successfully brandishing a very blue cocktail, with River in tow. 

The expression on his face is unreadable. 

“What the hell are you drinking?” Louisa’s nose wrinkles in disgust. 

“Blue Hawaiian, wanna taste?” Shirley offers the straw and you take it in turns to give it a try.

Out of the corner of your eye, River is watching with amusement. You can feel his eyes on you, but you know it’s just in the hope that you’ll choke on the disgusting drink.

“Gross,” you declare, turning immediately back to your Paloma. 

“And yours isn't?” River asks.

You offer up the glass, salted around the rim. 

His tongue darts out to take a sip and you have to bite the inside of your cheek.

He keeps his eyes on you as he drinks.

“Nice. Tequila?” You nod, the power of speech is non-existent. There’s salt on his lower lip from the glass and if you weren’t in a room full of people, you’d lick it off yourself. Alas, he gets there first.

Who are you kidding? Of course you wouldn’t actually do that. 

You wanted to though.

But no one needed to know that. 

You kept your crush to the confines of your mind. 

And your bedroom when you’re alone.

If anything, you were remarkably proud that you’d kept your megacrush under wraps for so long. It was almost like a challenge to yourself at this point that you did have a real life secret you’d take to the grave. 

He looks even better than he did a few hours ago at the office, desire coils inside you and you instinctively draw your thighs together. It doesn’t help when he noticeably looks at your mouth, red lipstick is your ‘go to’ for a night out.

You’ve been in your brain a little too long, their conversation has moved on, and you haven’t been paying attention at all.

“... and then she went fucking ballistic that Ho had put mistletoe above her office door!” 

“Well if they weren’t sneaking around -” 

“Is it really sneaking if we all know about it?” 

“I didn’t know, did you know?” 

“Course I fucking did! And she does,” you manage to tune in just as the trio turn to you. 

“Yep. I knew,” you confirm. “What do I know?”

“Were you not listening?” Louisa chastises you. 

You hold the drink up.

“I was admiring Paloma.”

“We’re trying to work out who knows about Lamb and Standish.”

“Ohhh, that. Yeah I did know that,” you admit.

“How the hell did you know?” Shirley asks, outraged.

“I have eyes, Shirl.” 

“Are you seriously the only one who doesn’t know?” Louisa queries.

“Fucking looks like it,” she shorter woman grumbled. “I didn’t know he knew though,” she jabs a thumb in River’s direction.

“I have eyes, Shirl.” He repeats your explanation, looking at you over the edge of his glass as he takes a drink. “I’m very observant, actually.”

“Ha! Yeah, ok, dicksplash.” Shirley laughs.

“Oh yeah, super observant,” you can’t help but join in. He doesn’t say anything in response, but his eyebrows pinch together in a little frown. There’s movement in the room, Catherine is rallying everyone to the table. “Quick, let's get another drink before we have to sit down,” you step away from the group, making a mental note of the round.

Blue Hawaiian (gross).

Paloma (glorious).

Gin and tonic.

Rum and coke.

“I’ll give you a hand,” River follows. The restaurant has gotten busy. Plenty of other office groups with their own parties going on.��

A large man blocks your path on the way to the bar.

“Alright, love?” He asks loudly.

“Fine, thanks.”

“Buy you a drinky?”

“No, thanks.”

“Not even a dirty martini?” He leers, blatantly looking down the v-neck of your top.

“She said no, thanks.” River insists with his hand on your waist. With a little push, he guides you past the man. You’re half expecting a fight, but the man puts his hand on River’s shoulder.

“Fucking legs and tits on that, mate. You jammy bastard.” You hear him mutter, congratulatory. 

Your hand balls into a fist, ready to turn on the wedge heel of your shoes and throw a punch.

River’s hand slides down your arm and covers your fist, working open your fingers and intertwining them with his own.

“Come on, lets get to the bar before Catherine fucking kills us,” he tells you, pulling you along to the bar. His voice is low in your ear, and close enough to draw goosebumps.

It’s too busy to stand side by side at the bar, so he stands directly behind you. 

Even in the heels, he’s a head taller than you. 

You feel him lean down, his chest against your back as he puts his mouth to your ear.

“You look lovely.” He smells incredible. So good, you have to bite back a sigh.

“Thank you. Very observant of you,” you tease.

“If you only knew the things I’d noticed.” He declares, raising a hand to encourage the barman in your direction. You don’t grace him with an answer. Just a laugh and a shake of the head. “That colour suits you.” His head is close to yours again.

“Hi, double gin, double rum, a Paloma and a Blue Hawaiian please?” You ask the barman with a smile. “It’s a black top, River,” you roll your eyes, getting your credit card from your bag.

“I mean the bra.” He replies without lowering his voice. 

The drinks start lining up in front of you.

He traces a line down your shoulder blade alongside the strap of your bra, nudging it back into place from where it has escaped from beneath the strap of your top.

You dare not speak as you try and shake off the heat pooling in your belly from the touch of his hand. You wave your credit card at the machine, thank the barman and pick up two of the drinks. He picks up the other two and you follow him to the table.

Lamb is holding court at one end, with Catherine at his side. 

The others are scattered around and there are two seats left, side by side. 

While you’re busy handing Louisa and Shirley their drinks, he pulls out the chair for you. 

You’re about to thank him when Lamb stands up, demanding everyone's attention.

“Right then, gobshites. Merry fucking Christmas and all that, thank you for your efforts for another shitty year.” He raises his glass, “cheers.” 

You all join in the toast and the food starts arriving.

Catherine is the queen of organisation, a list readily available for anyone who’d forgotten what they’d pre-ordered. The wine flows far too freely and the table is soon sharing food, stories and laughter.

It doesn’t happen often at Slough House where the default tone is sarcasm and derision, so it’s actually nice to be nice to each other.

Everyone is very merry. Ho, JK and Shirley are playing a drinking game - rules unknown - but they appear to be spying on the other company parties going on around you. At the top of the table, Lamb has his arm around Standish who is nursing an orange juice. She leans against him with a soft smile. You’re contemplating a drink for the road with Louisa when you notice River watching you.

There’s that unreadable expression again. 

“I think I’m going to head off,” you tell Louisa.

“Nooo! Have another!” She pleads.

“My bed is calling,” you tell her with a giggle. 

“Paloma neeeeeds you,” she all but begs. She's not wrong. Tequila for the road makes sense, it's cold outside, the smooth agave would warm you up. 

“Go on then, twist my arm,” you bop her on the nose with a festive red-polished fingertip. 

“Gin?” She asks River, who nods and downs the last splash in his glass. 

The last drink is perfect, but you're on the drunker side of tipsy and ready for your warm bed. 

You frown at your phone like your granny does, and try to bring up the Uber app.

“I've got it,” he mutters quietly next to you. 

Chairs have moved around, tables pushed out of the way for the more social groups who want to dance, and his chair has ended up even closer to yours. You feel the muscles in his thigh as he leans into you to get to his opposite pocket. “10 minutes. Can go past yours on the way to mine?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmur. 

You should probably check whether anyone else needs to jump in as well. 

“We're going to the cluuuuub!” Shirley sings loudly from the centre of a Louisa and Ho sandwich. 

“Enjoy -”

“You're coming too!”

“No, I'm not.”

“But you have to,” she insists with a pout.

“Nah, I'm too pissed -” this time it's Louisa who cuts you off.

“Fuck that, if she's making me go to a club then you're coming as well. River, cancel the Uber.” 

“But -”

“Cancel. The. Uber.” Louisa told him through gritted teeth. 

“Yep, done.”

“River,” Catherine appeared anxiously beside him. “You will make sure the girls get back safely?”

“Course he will, Standish. He knows I'll have his balls if he doesn't,” Lamb holds her coat out. “C’mon, I'll buy you a bag of chips on the way home. I'm still starvin’ after that poncy rubbish.”

“They'll be fine, I promise. I might even persuade them to drink some water.” River assures her.

“Fat fuckin’ chance, pal,” Shirley barks a loud laugh as she shoves your coat into your hands. “Get ya coat, you've pulled.” She winks with a subtle nod towards River. 

*

The bar she takes you all to is even busier. 

“More drinks!” Louisa shouts over the noise and points at the bar. 

You form a single file conga line. Linked hands and fingers hooked on belt loops holding you all together. 

River's hand is attached to your hip, simultaneously pushing you just enough to keep you close to Shirley in front, but also pulling you closer to him. 

At the bar, you crush up against each other. 

With the crowd, it's impossible for anyone else to see how low his hand has slipped on the small of your back. 

You chance a look up at him while he's looking past you to Shirley. He continues talking to her while you take in his profile. 

Stubble just long enough to be called a beard, angular nose. 

Those blue eyes. 

Your social battery is just about on its arse but once someone - Ho, obviously - passes you a fortifying shot of something disgusting, you and that sequined mini skirt are up and dancing. 

You can feel River's eyes on you but you’d rather keep your back to him and try and carry on as casually as you can, the drink tells you that if you turn around, you know you won’t be able to stop staring. 

At least with your back to him, you can't see him. Plus you know your arse looks great in this skirt, it was literally the sole reason for buying it in the first place.

He's taking the chaperone duty seriously, not wanting to get on Catherine's bad side. 

Roddy has managed to grab a couple of seats at the bar so you leave Louisa and Shirley on the dance floor and squeeze in between them. You take a sip of River's drink, yours is long finished. 

“Help yourself.” He smirks, his hand moving to your hip again, hidden by the darkness of the bar. You put a hand on his thigh and lean in slightly, taking some of the pressure off your feet. You’re close enough that he can see your breath hitch as his thumb finds a patch of exposed skin at the waistband of your skirt. 

You glance across at Ho, but he's distracted by a party of girls in tiny elf costumes. 

“He's not looking, don't worry,” River says into your ear. His nose nudges your hair aside, his lips brush your earlobe and your knees buckle. 

The hand you have on his thigh grips a little tighter, leaving crescent moon nail indents in his jeans. 

Your breath trembles as you exhale.

You turn your head slightly, feeling his stubble graze your cheek.

The tiniest of whimpers escapes your mouth. Impossible to hear over the noise of the bar.

The gentle kiss on the pulse point under your ear tells you he heard it anyway. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask quickly, pushing your nerves down. He nods, pulling back from you a little, and finishes most of his drink. He offers the last of it to you.

“Need to try and get them out of here,” he looked across at Shirley and Louisa who were doubled over laughing. “I promised Catherine.”

“I'll get them,” the pressure of your hand on his thigh lightens as you stand wholly on your own feet again, wincing a little. 

It takes longer than you'd like. Apparently Shirley is very into nostalgic Christmas party songs so she's currently moshing around the dance floor to Slade. 

Finally, you drag them both with you, one in each hand like naughty toddlers. 

“I don't wanna go!” Shirley stamps her foot. Literally stamps her foot. Ho thinks it's hilarious. 

“I do, I'm fucking knackered. I want to sit on my kitchen floor and eat a ham salad sandwich.” Louisa muses.

“Oh,” Shirley looks at her in wonder. “That does sound… sooo good, actually. Yeah let's go,” she holds onto River's arm, unsteadily letting go with one hand to pull on her coat, and swapping to the other hand. “Thanks, Riv,” she pats his cheek. 

“It's a bit unsettling having you be nice to me, Shirley,” he grins at her. 

“Back on form tomorrow, tosser.” She promises with a lopsided, tired smile. She lets him put an arm around her shoulder, his other hand reaches behind to take yours, while you make sure you have Louisa. Poor Roddy tears himself away from the sexy elves and brings up the rear.

Outside, the booze hits you. 

Fuck. 

Had you seriously just propositioned River Cartwright?

He was clearly just going to push you into the next taxi and go home, like any sensible person would. 

“Right then, Lou and Shirl, time to go, go, Ho,”

“With you?” Shirley squints. 

You're cuddled up to Louisa, keeping warm and upright. 

“That's right, Roddy Ho is hot to go and you ladies are coming with me.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you if you don't stop rhyming Ho and go,” Louisa tells him tiredly. She sounds somewhat sober.

“Yeah, alright,” he deflates a little. 

Louisa presses a warm kiss to your cheek and tilts her head to whisper in your ear. 

“Be careful,” she says urgently. “Do not be afraid to say no. He's not going to think badly of you if you do.” 

You blush, ashamed that you’ve been so obvious.

Bloody tequila.

“Come on then, let’s go. If I stay out here any longer I’ll need to pee.” Shirley bounces on the balls of her feet. They pile into a cab with Roddy reeling off the addresses one by one.

“Be a good girl!” Ho shouts to you as they drive off. 

Bloody tequila.

While you’re admonishing the tequila, River has summoned a cab. He holds the door open for you to slide across the back seat. You give the driver your address and River does the same.

The driver is speeding through traffic before you even have a chance to search for a seatbelt. You haven’t moved quite far enough along the seat, so as he rounds each corner, you're pushed further into River.

“Sorry,” you mumble as another corner is taken at a higher speed than necessary. It smushes you into River’s side again. “Jesus, is this guy ready to finish or something.” 

He puts a hand on your thigh, “you ok?”

“Yeah fine.” The heat of his hand lights up your skin. 

You both look at his hand on your leg, and then back to each other. 

The streetlights illuminate you both and then send you into darkness again. 

You don’t know if it was an unconscious move or deliberate, but his thumb brushes gently in small circles on your bare skin. 

You’re sure he must be able to see your heart pounding through your top. 

As he leans into you, his hand moves up another inch and as you gasp at the sensation, he lightly kisses you.

“Here we are, then.” The taxi driver interrupts. 

River reaches for his wallet but you hand over twenty quid before he can get there. 

He steps out of the car and extends a hand to help you out.

“You coming back in, fella?” the driver asks. 

River looks down at your hand to find he’s still holding it.

“No thanks, mate.” 

You’ve barely got the front door closed behind you before he’s pushing you up against it and kissing you with a fierceness you were desperate for. 

Your hands worked fast, pushing his jacket down his arms and onto the floor with a thud, and pulling him back to you by his t-shirt. 

He’s got one hand up in your hair and the other is on your leg, halfway up the skirt while he kisses your jawline. 

His body presses against you and you can feel him, hard through his jeans.

You bring up the leg he’s got a hand on and he hooks it over his hip, it tilts your lower body further into his and he is so close to where you need him it sends you dizzy. 

It's impossible to disguise the neediness of your moans and the hand that he has up your skirt is moving further up to grip the fleshy soft spot between your hip and thigh. 

"God, River -," you whine, your hips canting towards his.

"Sure you want this?" 

You nod against his shoulder. 

"Talk to me, babe," he asks. 

A reasonable request given that your blood probably has an 80% tequila content.

"Yes, yeah I'm sure," you're pulling at his t-shirt, dragging it over his head.

When he mutters "good girl," against your collarbone, you're certain you could come there and then. 

He traces the seam of your knickers with his fingers, feeling just how wet you are for him, "jesus," he murmurs against your lips. 

He slips his fingers inside you and presses his thumb to your clit. 

Your knees buckle and he presses you harder into the door. 

The foot you still have on the ground is on tiptoes but you can tell he’s got you. 

He seems to know exactly what you need, and just when you're at the brink, grasping for the release that's just out of reach, he kisses you again. 

It's hot and rough and sends you right over the edge. 

“Fuck, River,” you moan against him, “fucking hell -”

He gives you a minute, a slightly softer kiss, and takes back his fingers from your still clenched thighs. 

When he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, you quickly realise you don’t need a minute, you only need him. 

Your shaking hands fumble with the button of his jeans until he takes over and does it himself, he's dug out a condom from his wallet. You're still fully clothed, still wearing the wedge ankle boots that, with his help, have you at exactly the right height for him to push into you. 

It's everything. 

Everything you've fantasised about since the day you were introduced.

He thrusts into you using your hips as leverage, your heel grazing the back of his thigh. 

Your hands hold fast to the back of his neck and his shoulder, 

"River, fuck, you feel so good," your name is reverent on his lips as he comes but he doesn’t stop until you’re there too. 

His pace slows as his hips stutter, and your head rests in the crook of his neck while you catch your breath. 

All at once, he's gentle again, carefully bringing your leg back down and making sure you're steady on your feet. 

He looks a little sheepish as he steps back away from you, taking your hands to help you stand up away from the back of the door.

"You ok?" He asks, still breathless. 

You pull your skirt back down into place, his eyes on your legs as you do so. 

"Yeah, yeah fine. You?"

"Yeah, course." 

He looks like he can’t get out of there fast enough, his hesitation and unease rub off on you. "I should go though -"

"Yeah, no I figured as much."

Partly true, but there is still an element of surprise.

"It's just been a fucking long day, y'know?" He explains, tidying himself up and looking around for his t-shirt and jacket.

"Yeah, I hate Christmas parties." You agree. 

He must have seen the brief look of hurt that crossed your face, "not that it was a mistake… but maybe, probably shouldn't have happened? Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a fucking dick. We’ve both had a lot to drink -"

"I get it, River. It was fun, but it didn't mean anything." 

It didn't mean anything. 

Probably the biggest lie you've ever told, and it's out of your mouth like you knew it had to be said all along. 

“Right…” He looks confused, almost as if he expected tantrums and anger. “So we’re -”

“We’re fine,” you insist. “G’night.”

*

“... I…” Louisa frowns, holds up a finger to prevent you from interrupting, and tries again. “I… didn’t picture him just… leaving.” You pass her the biscuits and wrap your hands back around your mug of tea. 

“Well, he did.” Another email pings in from Catherine two floors above your head. “Probably for the best. We drank so much -”

“Bullshit, we all had. You said yes, didn’t you? Like it was totally clear that you wanted to…” she raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh yeah, he knew I wanted to. Look, it’s fine, it’s out of our system now. We wanted to know, and now we do, end of story.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t hmmm me.”

“Is that why you’re hiding?”

“I’m not hiding, this is my office.”

“Which you’ve barely left.”

“Terribly sorry, I have work to do. You know how it is,” you brush her off with a grin and open Catherine’s email.

You’re halfway through her list of fraudulent bank transfers when you notice how dark it has gotten outside. 

Louisa said goodbye at least an hour ago, you were only going to do a couple more and then leave right after her, but time had drifted. 

You’re only lit by the computer monitor so you don’t notice River until he’s standing right by your desk making you jump.

“Fuck me, River! Why didn’t you put a light on?!”

“I came in to turn your screen off, I didn’t know you were even here!” 

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Gone, it’s nearly 7pm.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise the time.” You’re cursing not leaving when Louisa did. 

Work has been fine in the few days since the Christmas night out, but it’s easier with a buffer. 

Without someone else filling the gaps, the lapses in conversation feel huge. “Trying to get this done before we break up.”

“Yeah. I’ve hardly seen you since…” he trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence he started.

“Since the other night,” you finish for him.

You feel your heart rate speed up as he looks at you.

There’s something in his gaze again, as there had been at the party, but it’s dark and you’re sure you’re just imagining it.

“Since then,” he agrees quietly. 

There’s a moment of silence that should really be filled, but you're damned if you know what to say.

You stand up so he’s not completely towering over you.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind is consumed by the memories of that night.

You can still feel the slight burn where his beard had rubbed against your skin.

The fingertip bruises on your hips from his tight hold.

The tension in your belly that you can’t seem to quell - no matter how much you draw on the memories of that night.

The heat coils tighter again as you struggle to ignore it. 

“Are you sure we’re ok?” He asks suddenly. 

There’s a hint of vulnerability in his question. 

He’s genuinely concerned about your feelings.

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. 

You know you should brush it off as a drunken encounter, but the intensity had taken you entirely by surprise.

The way your body had responded, the empty ache afterwards.

You hadn’t anticipated the effect he’d have on you in such a short time.

The thought of what you were missing out on both terrifies and excites you.

“I’m sure, River,” you reassure him. “I don’t regret it, I knew what I was doing.”

He looks visibly relieved, even in the dim light.

“No regrets. Huh,” he murmurs, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t seem to stop looking at it. 

“That’s good,” you hear him add. 

“How about you?” 

The question is out of your mouth before you can stop to think.

You really don’t need to know the answer.

“No. Not about that night.”

“Good,” you whisper. “That’s good too.”

“Well, possibly one, actually.”

Your heart sinks as you brace yourself for the inevitable. 

“Oh?” you manage to squeak, your voice betraying your anxiety.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have rushed off?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

You can feel his gaze on you, studying your face. 

His eyes land on your lips and linger there, as if he can’t help himself.

“That skirt was…” he huffs a little laugh, a shake of his head. “You looked incredible.”

The compliment catches you off guard, especially today when you’re wearing the biggest, warmest jumper you can find. 

“Bit of a contrast to today,” you point out with a small smile. “But this is much warmer.”

River laughs, “I can see that.” He takes a step closer, his eyes raking over your body. “You’re swimming in that thing.”

Your heart is thundering in your chest. 

There’s no alcohol to dull the senses this time, everything feels electrified.

You could go up in flames with just one look.

Your thighs press together desperately, clenching on nothing.

“I should have had a better look when I had the chance,” he says quietly. Hesitantly. 

His words send a shiver down your spine.

“Another regret,” you tell him. 

He smiles, satisfied that he hasn’t overstepped.

“Exactly,” he agrees, brushing your hair from your eyes.

He’s standing so close to you now that you can feel the heat from his body.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, you feel his fingers at the bottom of your jumper, toying with the knit. 

His breath ghosts across your cheek and you lean into it.

“Yes?”

He weighs his words carefully. 

“Did you want me to leave?”

You shake your head slightly, “no,” you whisper.

He lets out a small breath, his hands bunching in the thick jumper as they move to your waist.

“That’s good,” he mirrors his earlier response.

Your gaze is locked on his mouth as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

As he leans down to kiss you, you feel the edge of the desk press into the backs of your thighs.

The kiss is insistent and demanding, somehow more confident without alcohol.

He pulls you closer, his tongue parting your lips as he deepens the kiss. Your hands reach up to grip his shoulders.

The kiss turns more urgent, his tongue tangling with your own while one of his hands wanders underneath the oversized jumper to touch your warm skin. 

The evidence of his desire is hard against your groin and he shifts to push his thigh between your legs.

You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes as the pressure against your core sends a wave of heat through you. 

River kisses down your neck, biting gently at your pulse.

His hand under your jumper reaches further up to cup your breast over your bra. His touch is gentle and light at first but he soon grips you more firmly, one hand on your hip keeping your body flush with his.

He mumbles something against your skin, his breath ragged and uneven as he continues placing hot kisses on your neck. He brings his hand out of your jumper and cups your chin, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip.

“Want you now,” he insists, his voice rough. “But not here.”

He pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Roddy’s probably got cameras,” he explains on seeing your disappointed pout. “Besides, this time I want to be patient enough to at least take your clothes off first.”

“Let’s go then,” you push him away from the desk so you can stand properly. “You’ve got a present to unwrap.”

[abandonedvirtualfriend]

My motivation for drawing my answers to asks has been pretty non-existent lately, but I still wanna answer asks and keep the blog going, so I have a question

...I worded this so weird 😭

[rhytmrocket]

hey hey hey all! happy halloween and happy birthday to me, aaand happy last day of punchtober!! i decided to dump the prompts i’ve done today instead of tomorrow like i usually do because 1, i have rehearsal tomorrow and im gonna be so so tired after, and 2, i thought it’d be better to do it day of bc of the holiday and my birthday, so it’s cool

here are the rest of the prompts, then!

19, hoy quarlow

i'll start with some of the ones i've missed. hoy! uh, i don't think too much of this guy, he's kinda just scrangly grampa idk

20, childhood

this is kinda just a doodle i pulled out of my ass. i think if heike and dragon and narcis were friends when they were kids they'd play like this.

25, kabuki

kabuki i also don't think about very much. but, i know well what it's like to like a character that at most 2 other people feel the same way about, so i shall feed the kabuki fan (and the hoy fan) that i am still certain exists

now for this week!

28, knock out (and also 18, vulnerability but i didn't wanna start with this one so)

so this one's a bit different. i wrote something! in french, so that my poor writing skills can just be chocked up to not knowing french too well! translations will be in parentheses

[gabby has just beat joe in a boxing match. joe lies on the mat, ko'd] joe: « bon travaille! tu me battes! » (good job! you beat me!) gabby: « t’es bien? » (you ok?) joe: « ouais, mais un peu blessé. » (yeah, but a bit injured.) [gabby helps joe get up] gabby: « je n’ai jamais gagné un match auparavant.. » (i've never won a match before..) joe: « maintenant, tu as! » (now, you have!) gabby: « t’as gagné des matchs auparavant, oui?— » (you've won matches before, right?) joe: « euh.. » gabby: « vraiment?! tu n’as jamais gagné?! » (really?! you've never won!?) joe: « non, pas un match vrai. vous élèves, je vous battes car je suis votre coach, mais dans le wvba… » (no, not a real match. you students, i beat you because i'm your coach, but in the wvba...) gabby: « tu n’as jamais gagné. » (you've never won.) joe: « encore! je n’ai pas encore gagné! je crois que je peux gagner! …éventuellement… » (yet! i haven't won yet! i believe that i can win! ... eventually...)

yeah, uh, sorry if the french isn't that great. still learning, yk

29, alice and ape iii (and technically 31, halloween but i have another one for 31)

theyre silly :3 they'd dress up as eachother i believe

30, frank jr

crying i didn't have much of an idea for him. but i do think it is a rare moment when he has a thought

and finally*, 31, halloween!

decided to go back to my roots and draw mahou again! and clown, cuz hes my silly :333 so, i drew them, my two blorbos, dressing up as each other because ermm its my birthday and i can do what i want

so that's it, right?

*oh, this asterisk. the only prompt i haven't done yet is 14, paparazzi. and that's because i want to do an edit for it. but, i haven't had the freetime and motivation this month to make it happen. so, that will come at a later date. can't guarantee when or how soon, but i swear that it'll be a thing. éventuellement.

[driftingmoonmenace]

Tw vent

I'm still gonna take my break but I guess I just wanna get my thoughts out. I'll probably delete this later.

I guess I'm starting to think or realize that I'm severely burnt out or stressed out because of the pressures of social media and being 'present' in the fandom. My creativity over time has tanked and getting motivated to work on my AUs or draw or write is like non-existent. I have other stressors going on irl rn too, but I've just noticed over time the amount of frequent breaks I have to take from social media anymore because of my mental health.

It's not to say I dislike creating fandom stuff or anything. I still love Sun and Moon dearly, even tho my hyperfixation is nowhere near where it once was! I still enjoy seeing what people create! I still enjoy creating things for the fandom!

I guess I just can't help falling into the habit of feeling like I need to be more active, more social, worry over whats the best time to post stuff, compare myself to others, stress over posting sketches instead of full finished pieces. Writing and feeling so embarrassed over what I write. I know it's no one's fault but my own. I shouldn't stress over things like that and create for myself instead of others. I just live off validation at this point from years of drawing for others or money. I rarely draw for myself anymore. Validation makes me want to keep creating.

I stress over my 'inadequacies' of being a slow artist with no spoons and little to no motivation most days or leaving people on read and not replying because socializing stresses me out even though I enjoy it. Saying I'll do things and then backing out of them, showing how unreliable I am over and over again.

Idk fandom is just such a double edged sword to me and is something I very much enjoy and want to participate in, but also i get so overwhelmed with the pressure and expectations I put on myself. Fandom has changed so much over the past few decades and i feel like by not posting im becoming 'irrelevant' within the fast paced hellscape its become. It's frustrating.

[carcasscounty]

Motivation to draw is through the roof

But the amount of art ideas I actually wanna commit to is near non-existent

[butterfilledpockets]

Haha fun question but uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

How does one get to drawing a comic?? Like how long does it usually take? Also motivation?

fun question indeed :D

How does one get to drawing a comic?

I usually start with doodling on paper, jsut quick and simple thumbnails to get an idea of the space you wanna use and the pace of the story. Comic's are just anohter form of storytelling, like learning a language, if you are already familiar with writing (song writing, book writing, poetry..etc) use what you know from there and translate it in your own style. I myself am a word writter, so I started by taking scenes from books, fics, podcasts, animated characters and trying to translte them into comic format.

How long does it take?

from weeks to hours, it will fluctuate, never feel bad about taking longer, every time you enact a process it will be different. The fully coloured comics I did took about about 8 hours each page, since I was doing backgrounds, shading, colour as well as non sketchy line art. But the one I am currently working on (which is greyscale with sketched line art) is taking around 4 hours a page.

Motivation?

I don't wanna say "just get to it" cause that is the antithesis of motivation.

For me personally my motivation is three things:

"I wanna tell this story, and I want to tell it right", I want my ideas to exist in a way other poeple can see.

Secondly, ALL ART IS PROGRESS, every time you sit down and draw, you imrpove.

Lastly, this isn't really motivation, but it's advice that has saved me over and over. "Don't wait until you are 'good enough'", there is no such thing as good enough. I drew shitty shitty eddsworld comics when I was 10, and I kept drawing shitty comics and maybe they aren't so shitty anymore.

There is always someone who is going to happy to hear your story, starting out is tricky, but you got this.

[hangingoffence]

so many questions i have, but i wanna ask about the oc in that unknown soldier piece ur published! who is he? any strong ideas of his character/plot or is he more of a vague oc for drawing purposes? also, any oc uve made for entirely self-indulgent reasons? not for a story or specific idea just 'it would be so cool'/'theyre just like me' kind of motivations

<333 MWUAH MWUAH

His name is Patrick and he exists in the same bubble as Michael and Ronnie.

They all do have backstories but they don't really have like a coherent plotline or a story with a message. They all represent different things. They all have a long long history of being different characters and changing and growing as i grew. There are different iterations of them and these "newest" ones mostly represent my own struggles with adulthood and also they represent my want for male friendships bc ive never really had that.

Patrick form all the three might be the one that I myself relate to the most and the one i project myself most to. He's my fav even if I like almost never draw him <333

Patrick is very quiet and non confrontational. He goes with the flow and doesn't really stick out. He doesn't voice out his thoughts that much and usually gets along with anyone. He's like that one kid in school that you see all the time but don't really know anything about.

He lives with his mother and his step-father. When he was about 12 years old his father died in a car accident, which left his mother depressed and vulnerable. (there's this scene that im debating over where a few weeks after his father's death, Patrick's walking home and see what he thinks is his father at their house's window. He runs in and sees a figure for a second before it disappears. this is just me consuming paranormal content thought lol) His baseball cap was originally his fathers.

When his step-father came into their lives, it was more of Patrick's mother needing a person her age to lean onto and that man taking an advantage of that situation. From the start Patrick and his step-father did not get along. Or more like his step-father did not like him. He became very verbally and physically abusive towards Patrick.

During his teenage years he started drinking which slowly it developed into alcoholism. He also got addicted to painkillers because of his constant headaches. After he turned 18 he immediately left his childhood home and moved to his own apartment in another city. His addictions got even worse when he lived on his own. Though he was able to hold a job, he still found himself being drunk rather than sober.

The main shtick is his struggle with addiction and more directly alcoholism(theres a direct link to finnish alcohol culture in him bc of my background but i wont get into it now). And i like to explore it from Ronnie's perspective. In their 20s they reconnected after having a falling out in high school and Ronnie witnessed first hand the brutal grip that the addiction had on his friend. And knowing that he truly can't do anything unless Patrick himself wants to get better (bc thats the way with addicts they will never recover if they don't want it themselves. you cant force them to quit bc they will go back). Eventually he lost his job and needed to get help from the goverment to survive and to pay his bills and have food. Ronnie at first helped him out finacially but then he realized it's just enabling Patrick's addiction bc all that money he got was spent on alcohol, so he stopped that. But still gave him emotional support but refused to help him out financially.

Through years and years of struggle and after many stern talks with Ronnie, Patrick started to realise his own illness. He saw how bad his health was and how alcohol had fucked him up in every level, he started a recovery journey.

After he got out of the chains he returned back to his hometown and to see his mom. But he was greeted by his childhood home turned into a dumpster. His step-father had left his mother years ago and she was left to take care of herself alone. She had started hoarding due to the stress and depression and had developed early signs of alzheimers. Patrick took her to a hospital and got her some treatment. He struggled with his own guilt of leaving her and letting her get to that stage.

Also he's like the one oc that fears every time i look at them bc they know they will go through some shit

[just-vibing-in-the-milky-way]

Star Saviour Star Shooter Concept Drawings

Was fun to design. I wanna make animated version somedayyyy... but motivation is non-existent rn.

[idontdanceisit]

So I kinda wanna do fake art assets for a Fnaf fan game cause I don’t know how to actually make games.

So basically I want a fnaf fan game combining mechanics from an obscure game from the 2000’s on Dreamcast Called Illbleed. (If you want to search up what that is Go ahead; I recommend The Illbleed Video by Nitro Rad on YouTube: Which probably made me think of this in the first place. Also warning for the heavy gore, violence, and sexual themes from it, also that game gets weird as Hell and feels like a fever dream at some points. However I wanna like get rid of the sexual themes and lower gore and violence for my fake fan game assets so don’t worry I’m just using mechanics inspired by it. I also have no idea how to make games what so ever! (I only know how to draw okay?) So if I have motivation I can do fake death scenes of all of the playable animatronic characters for my non existent fan game and y’all get to rate my art and my writing skills. Yay.

Also in my non existent fan game you would play as Withered Freddy, Toy Freddy, Withered Bonnie, Toy Bonnie, Withered Chica, Toy Chica, Withered Foxy, and Mangle (who have multiple strengths and weaknesses) who get themselves trapped into a survival horror game ( like actually getting sucked into a survival horror game from a console… because of a certain chubby bear thinking it would be funny to play a cursed survival horror game.) And would have some elements from Illbleed like the panic/heart rate and traps. I have so many ideas to show y’all along with my fake fan game concept art. But it’s basically like almost 2 am for me and I NEED SLEEP ( I think weird stuff like this on the daily btw.)

Edit: it’s finally done, my first character sheet is finally done and now i had to repost it cause I didn’t like the time I posted it. Here’s link to it:

[i-got-poisenality]

ok actual intro post frfr bc i just realized that i don’t have one

hiya fellas! the name’s Finn but y’all can call me just about anything and i’ll be chill with that :]

i’m 16 (A MINOR) so pls don’t be creepy

i use he/they pronouns (as in “mostly “he” but idrc if you call me other things as long as it’s not ‘she’”)

i’m a trans guy, i’m ace, i’m somewhere on the arospec (probably grayromantic), and i’m gay

this started as a newsies blog (and is still mainly newsies) but has branched out to just be my theatre blog where i can be a nerd :]

my fav muicals are

newsies

tuck everlasting

hadestown

illinoise

the outsiders

crumby tag system

finn’s rambling again - non newsies posts

finn’s newsies nonsense - i’m talking (probably too much) about newsies

finn’s upsetti spaghetti - some level of vent (i will also tag vent and applicable cw/tws)

thats all i’ve come up with presently but i’ll hopefully improve with this

my aus with links to the masterposts (ask me if you wanna know anything abt them, i will explode with happy) (pretty pretty please ask me about my aus, if i don’t have anything written about the character you wanna know about i will write it upon receiving the ask)

newsies fantasy au - newsbians centric fantasy au

modern newsies au - what if sounds like lol, haven’t done any story work yet

newsies apocalypse au - crutchtrack centric mildly angsty au with a lot of splitting the party

i’ve done stage crew for 6 shows thus far and my first production as an actor starts rehearsals tomorrow as of posting this :D

i play a butt ton of instruments and write songs sometimes (i’ve never posted any anywhere but i may in the future), i also write other stuff and draw (requests welcome though no promises i’ll have the time/motivation to do them)

asks and dms always open and i love to get em

i’m a little stupid and don’t get things sometimes so pls be patient

i am smart about random useless trivia tho :D

DNI: normal dni criteria (homophobia, transphobia, racism, p3d0s, etc.), generally just dont be a jerk

one last thing, i may disappear at random bc i don’t have object permanence and i forget this blog exists

yeah, i think that’s it, welcome to my blog :D

[chlmvqn]

-~ office ~-

description: it's your first day at work, but who would've know that your boss would be your fiance? pairing: joshua (hong jisoo) x reader genre: fluff ; just a cute relationship in general a/n: dk will be appearing here as well!

you stood in front of the mirror as you fixed your collar. you dusted off the non-existent dirt on your skirt and breathed in deeply. you gave yourself a confident smile and mentally prepared yourself. 

today was your first day at work. you never really were the type to have actual physical work, you always preferred editing, drawing or writing. you always found physical work exhausting. you always had trouble with motivating yourself to do something, so this would be an obvious change of scenery.

as time went by, living with your lovely husband– hong jisoo, or joshua, you became a tad bit guilty that he was the only one working for your future family and household. just a month ago. you gathered up a ton of courage and decided to go to work. you always had a decent record back in college, so your application went by in ease. your interview as well flew like a breeze without any problem. 

you snap back in reality, you didn’t wanna be late on your first day, so you grabbed your bag swiftly and rushed to the bus station.

although you had a car, your lover took it to help himself to his workplace. you might be wondering, why didn’t you just go with him? well, you weren’t exactly sure how far your workplace was with his’, and he doesn’t know about any of this. you didn’t tell him that you got a job. keeping this a secret just for yourself was difficult, but you really did want to surprise him. 

staring out the window bus, you noticed how lovely it is to be outside. 

finally, you arrived at your workplace. you asked for assistance from someone on while your desk was located. you found your station and fixed yourself time for comfort. 

you had a couple smiles coming your way, you politely return them back. you sit at your office chair, now doing your work. (i really don't know anything about office work, i'm so sorry).

______________________________

the sound of the door opening captured your attention, averting your eyes to while the sound came from, you see the head of the department standing time.

"i heard that we have a new employee here. do you mind if you give us an introduction?" you give a shy nod to the head before you went to the front.

"wayen, wayen lasnim. i just started today. it is a pleasure to be acquainted with you all."

just after you spoke, you felt someone's presence behind you, their presence felt awfully familiar to you.

"sir? do you need something?" the head asked the man behind me.

'sir?'

you turned your head to meet familiar, heart melting eyes. your orbs widened off the man in front of you.

"oh, nothing. i was just curious to see the new employee in this department."

'this prick'

you sent a glare to him as he simply smiled in return.

"nice to meet you sir, i'm wayne, wayen lasnim.'' you extended your arm which he gratefully accepted. "a pleasure to meet you as well ms. lasnim." his big hands were perfectly wrapped around your small ones.

he leans into your ear level. "or should i say, miss hong." he whispered, hoping no one else heard it.

you turned on your heel, leading back to your seat.

________________________

"ms. lasnim. you've been called by the president." you see a man with a sharp and long nose calling out to you.

obviously, you knew who this man was. you give a quick nod before following beside the lad.

"i didn't know you worked here!" seokmin– or in which you call him, “dk”, exclaimed as he ruffled your hair.

"i didn't know that idiot worked here as well." you sigh as your friend was left in confusion.

"you mean shua?" nodding at the man as he makes an 'o' face.

the both of you talked while walking to your fiance’s office. he opened the door for you as you gave him a quick bow.

"i have her~" dk sings as he plops down on the sofa. joshua lifted his gaze, as he smiled seeing the sight of you.

"what do you want?" you coldly said as you placed your arms over your chest.

he stands up as he walks behind you. wrapping his arms around your waist, head flopping down your shoulder as he coos on your ear.

"oh, don't be like that, hun." your blushing face could be easily seen.

dk simply just laughed at the sight.

"oh, keep quiet both of you." joshua leaned down and placed a quick peck on your cheek before landing multiple more all around your face.

.

.

.

"i better get going, i don't wanna get fired on my first day." chuckling as you stand up from your lover's lap.

"aw, if they fire you, joshua can just handle it." dk pouts as the other nods in agreement. "now that would just be unfair to the others."

finally able to leave from the room, you head back to your respective department, continuing the work you left off to.

you didn't notice that you were smiling until one of your officemates snapped you out from your thoughts.

"well you seem happy." a chuckle was heard by the person you were sitting beside.

"xu minghao, pleasure to meet you." a warm smile was given to you as you simply replied. "wayen lasnim, the pleasure is all mine."

'this office life isn't going to be difficult after all"

.

.

.

.

<3