#Open Couple

[muscledmass]

Carson and Nate

Carson and Nate.

[extravapalooza]

pages from 'a world of plenty', a cyanotyped and handbound artist book using cyborgs to explore transness, gender, nature, technology + their intersections (and my last uni project ever !!!) ... gonna be posting more of the pages soon ^_^

[ghostsberry]

demoman!!

[paimt]

wanna help a poor bastard out? send me money and i'll draw you stuff

[jothemouse]

🌟I got commissioned!!!🌟

Thank you again so much to the wonderful @teddysboy !! It was such a pleasure to work with him to create this piece featuring Harvey from Stardew Valley⭐

And if you, dear viewer, would like something of your own, my commissions are still open!! I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to offer support that way. Or, as always, the best way to support me is just by reblogging!!

Thank you again so much, I had such a blast!🌟

[moskafleurart]

"It's NOT what it looks like!"

"It's exactly what it looks like"

If you like this piece, you can get merch with it on RedBubble! Or find it on my other socials: twitter and instagram.

So, about damn time I drew some One Piece. I intend to draw AT LEAST one illustration per ship (my ships).

[icantdothistodaybruh]

What a terribly dull ending this is.

[bibwak]

redid a piece I never finished in 2019, original below the cut

I gave up on the original pretty quickly because I discovered that casein is even more of a nightmare for portraits than gouache. I didn't save the original reference, unfortunately, so I had to cobble together several images of people during twilight to get a grasp of the lighting.

[shithowdy]

if you are an artist just trying out commissions for the first time as holidays come up, my advice to you to avoid burnout is have a clear ToS that states what you do and do not want to do.

not what you can and cannot do, but what you do and do not want to do. don't try to be the cheesecake factory of commission artists and take every single commission even if it doesn't suit your style or preferred subject matter. don't write a little disclaimer about how you aren't very good at backgrounds or vehicles but will do your best; that's how you get a client that for some reason wants a full brooklyn cityscape from you and suddenly you have spent five months stressed out and guiltily avoidant of other projects. just say you aren't offering backgrounds.

if you're not interested or confident in concept and design, be clear in your ToS that you need specific references for things like clothes and features. coming up with design ideas is a completely separate skill from rendering them; figure out with what you are comfortable before accepting the task. a lot of clients themselves don't understand that saying "do whatever" is basically tasking you to design for them, something for which you are well within your rights to charge accordingly.

pick your niche and hone it, and stretch your comfort zone with private work. you'll figure out as you go just how far your comfort zone stretches and can update what you offer accordingly.

[insanesonofabitch]

Thinking about how the plot of season 6 wouldn’t make sense if you do not acknowledge the fact that Cas and Crowley working together was an affair, or at least it felt like so to Dean.

Majority of the people that I heard saying that they disliked that conflict, say that it doesn’t make sense because Dean should’ve understood Cas’ point of view. And that Dean has also worked with demons before, more than once, out of desperation. Which is why he doesn’t have the right to be mad. And I understand that. But it wasn’t about working with demons. No. Not really. The thing that hurt Dean the most about Cas’ choice was how he chose to ask for help from Crowley, instead of him. Cas chose Crowley over him.

“Look me in the eye, and tell me you’re not working with Crowley…”

“You’re in it with him? You and Crowley?? You’re going after purgatory together??? You have, huh? This whole time!”

“No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.”

“I was there. Where were you?”

The plot literally doesn’t make sense if you do not acknowledge destiel or crowstiel or deancascrowley. And I think that’s insane, especially for a show from 2005.

[muscledmass]

Carson Moss - Gay bodybuilder and YouTuber. Carson and Nate.

[stasyalovem]

two ghost mates chilling in a hot tub five feet apart cause they're not gays

[jesuistrestriste]

Sage hear me out...

Divorced dilf art who calls his younger gf mommy

art stays cooped up in the house all day—everyday—when you’re out at your hot new job.

he thinks about all the guys your age who probably ogle you and try to make passes at you, not knowing that you’ve got a man pushing 40 waiting at home for you with dinner and a pair of warm, strong open arms.

sigh.

when you do get home, he’s there to greet you (as always). he walks over and holds you close; kissing your cheek, and then your lips and your neck. each one soft and sweet and attempting to wipe your mind of any flirtation from younger men that you may or may not have endured throughout the afternoon.

“hi,” he whispers, and you slide your fingertips down his lower back, making him tremble like a wet kitten.

“hey, baby,” you hum in return. you’re shorter than him, and so when he leans his weight into you his forehead naturally falls into your shoulder. he smells like warmth and outdated cologne and need.

he mouths at your neck in the next moment, his hands sliding to lovingly cup your waist, “i missed you so much.. can i have you now?” he breathes out, his voice shaking and pleading. you feel something thick and warm press into your hip from inside his sweatpants.

and you chuckle and shake your head. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a petulant whimper.

“i missed you too,” you nip at his ear, “but i need you to use your manners if you want something from me.”

he stiffens for a moment before he stumbles forward a bit, taking you with him and gently pushing your back up against the door. “i’m sorry.”

the apology spills from his lips with an earnest desire to make his obedience known. he’d never want to disappoint you. you’re all he has these days.

“can i… can i please have you now?”

a breath. a shake of your head. a rock of his hips against your body followed by a sorrowful, begging moan.

“no?” he shifts against you, his body aching for yours.

“you’re forgetting something, Art.”

it only takes a moment for him to process your words before he’s mumbling a slurry of “i’m so sorry”s into your neck. but apologies only go so far, don’t they? he needs to correct his behavior. he needs to show you that he knows what you want from him.

“please…” he whispers, “please, mommy..”

the honorific rolls off his tongue like honey, heavy and sweet. it hangs in the air between you two and then you let out a low chuckle, “much better.”

“mommy,” he breathes out again, his erection involuntarily pulsing against your body through his clothes, “mommy, mommy, mommy—ngh“

his tone grows more desperate with each mumbling of the word; higher in pitch and more urgent. your hands move up to stroke his short blonde hair, and then you whisper into his ear.

“what do you want?”

god, what doesn’t he want? he wants your hand down his pants, your perfect cunt wrapped around his unworthy cock, your mouth, your lips, your tits. everything.

but he knows you. he knows that this is a trick question. you’re phrasing it like you’re going to give him something, a treat—a reward, but it’s a bit of a trap.

there’s a right and a wrong answer here. pick the wrong one, and he’s in for a night of painful orgasm denial (coupled with a ruined one to end the evening).

but luckily, art is smart. he knows what you want to hear.

“i.. i wanna eat mommy out.”

you pull back gently from him; and judging by the look that spreads over your face when he says that, he picked the right response.

you smile, and then your hands slide from his hair to his shoulders. in an instant, art finds himself being pushed down to the floor in front of you. he can’t help but scoot forward and shove his boner against your ankle, rutting himself into your soft skin as he dribbles precome in his briefs.

you lean back against the door, hiking up your skirt, before you’re looking down to him expectantly.

“don’t make me do all the work, baby,” you practically purr.

art’s hands scramble up your thighs to your panties, which he peels off of your sticky core with wide eyes, letting the thin fabric garment fall to pool at your heels. you giggle.

you kick them off to the side, feeling your boyfriend’s hands clutched around your legs. you sling a leg over his left shoulder, spreading your folds for him to see, and he wastes no time in parting his lips and engulfing your heat with his mouth.

you groan, letting your head loll back, and you move your fingers wander to the back of his hair once more to push his face further against you. you grind on his eager tongue, feeling him flick it over your clit as he whimpers and suckles. what a slut.

his baby blues look up to you with weighted lids, lapping at your cunt like it’s something he’s been starved of for years. his pupils dilate intensely as he stares up at you like you’re a god; something holy and unreal. and when you shake over his mouth’s ministrations, getting close, he lets out a long, drawn-out whine into your core.

he’s murmuring something that sends vibrations up your spine from the coil deep in your gut. it’s hard to make anything out when he’s drowning in you and loving it, but you can decipher bits and pieces.

“please, mommy”

“come in my mouth, mommy”

“give it all to me, mommy”

“i can take it, mommy”

you’re everything he’s ever dreamt about. you bend his perception of time and space and reason and logic. how could a sweet, beautiful, young thing like you ever want a washed-up, older athlete like him?

he prays that you don’t only like him for his money, and then he closes his eyes and mouths at your sensitive bud. he drools all over it like a sick dog, his brows pinching up as he moans out incoherent pleas for you to finish.

and holy fuck, you come hard.

a strangled cry jolts out of you as your back arches, mixing with a helpless sob from art, and then you absolutely soak his tongue with your juices. it gushes all over his face and he swallows as fast as he can; hell, he nearly chokes on it.

“ffffuck! art! oh my god, good boy, good boy, such a good boy!”

you rock over him until your orgasm recedes, and you pull his head back from you shakily by your tender hold on his hair. strings of your slick cling to the lower half of his face and the tip of his nose; a lewd squelch echoing out as he’s forcefully disconnected from your body. a dazed smile graces your lips and you peer down to watch as art’s hips shake against the hardwood floor and a dark stain appears at the front of his sweats. it’s a pathetic sight, really.

but you watch him moan softly and keep his gaze trained on you as he wipes his chin messily with the back of his hand.

“was i good?” he whispers, like he’ll cry if you say no.

he needs to hear you say it when he’s not lost in the throes of your climax.

your chest is still heaving while you try to slow your labored breaths, but you lean down anyways and meet his lips with yours. you taste yourself on his tongue. he shudders and winces.

you pull back, your bottom lip brushing his.

“so good, baby..”

art kisses the corner of your mouth softly, just once. he’s melting into you.

he loves you. but he swallows that down for now. he opts to murmur out something that’ll sum up everything he feels in a more palatable manner. something that makes him seem less desperate to keep you all to himself for as long as you can tolerate him.

something that he’s earnestly dying to say.

something that he knows you deserve to hear.

“thank you.”

[k-wame]

THE VANISHING TRIANGLE | S1.E3

[iamacolor]

Casual touches between Sol and Sunjae 💛

LOVELY RUNNER - EPISODE 16

[cherryysundae]

the people that say sqq doesnt love binghe after the book is done are so interesting to me like this man is constantly horny for binghe, would rather die than let binghe be sad for more than 3 seconds, loves to do literally anything binghe asks for, teases binghe not because he enjoys his reactions but because he genuinely loves having fun with him, acts like he hates it but he actually loves pda, explicitly talks about how binghe makes his heart race, and that is after they get together cause before when he was about to die he thought it wouldn't be as bad if they died together... like that man is obsessed with lbh as much as lbh is with him