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sturnrm · 7 months

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I’m literally sending this to everyone I need to read this fic idea

So it’s where Matt and reader are bestfriends and reader has a date but has never kissed anyone before so Matt says practice on him then it semi escalates (smut or no smut idm) and reader cancels her date for Matt ???

~ ITS JUST A KISS ~

Matt sturniolo x bsf!reader

Warnings: swearing, kissing, ass gabbing, grinding, mentions of sex

I was at the triplets house sat on matts bedroom floor on my phone, matt was playing Fortnite and Chris and Nick had gone to get food.

I was messaging this boy who I had met at top golf a few weeks back and I was going on a date tonight with him but I hadn’t told Matt yet, although matts my bestfriend he is very protective with who I see and who I don’t and apparently ‘he just doesn’t wanna see me get hurt’ which is sweet yes but it has resulted in me being a virgin and never kissed a boy.

“FUCK” Matt screamed slamming his fist into the keyboard

“You lost again?” I asked

“Yes smart ass” he rolled his eyes at me.

I mocked him by mouthing what he last said and pulling a face.

“You wanna watch a movie and get doordash” he asks me switching his monitor off.

“I can’t today” I say biting my lip already knowing his response to going on a date

“Why” he furrowed his eyebrows

“I have a date in about 2 hours so I needa get ready” i say smiling holding eye contact with him

“Who”

“The guy from top golf he’s called Jack” I reply

“Alright have fun then” he scoffed, he picked up his phone looking away from me and fixated on his TikTok for you page

I didn’t reply to him I was definitely confused on why he didn’t ask any questions but if I kept my mouth shut I could just enjoy my date.

—————————

I had gone home to get ready and my date was picking me up in about 30 but I told him to get me from the triplets house since I wanted matts opinion on the dress.

I walked up to his room he was sat on his bed on his phone.

I was wearing a short black dress which was tight at the top but semi flared out at the bottom just barely covering my ass.

“What you think” I say spinning so he could see the whole dress front and back

Matts eyes widen “wow you look good” he smiles he sits up at the edge of the bed

“Thank you” I giggle

“What are you guys doing then” he asked

“Well he’s taking me for food then I’m going back to his to watch a movie” i say straightening the bottom of my dress out looking at myself in the mirror as matts eyes didn’t leave my body

“Here” he turns around grabbing something from his draw and throwing it at me “your gonna want this if your going back to his place” he smirked

I looked at my feet to see he threw a condom “seriously matt I’m not gonna fuck him” I pick it back up throwing it at him

“Why you can tell me allll about it after” he laughs

“Because I’ve never even kissed a boy let alone fucked one and I’m not gonna loose my first virginity to a guy I barely know” i say sorta embarrassed

“WHAT” his eyes widen with a shocked look on his face “okay I understand that you may have never fucked a guy but you haven’t kissed a guy” he asked making me more embarrassed

“Well you always crash my dates” I blame him

“Because the guy your with is always a dick and I don’t wanna see you get hurt”

I roll my eyes

“Well Y/N you better hope your decent at kissing or it’s gonna make things awkward between them” he says

“I don’t know if I’m a good kisser”

“Come here I’ll tell you” he smirks standing up

“What” I say confused

“Your my bestfriend I’m helping you out here, ill help you learn how to kiss them your date will be even better it’s just a kiss” he stepped closer to me “but only if you want my help”

Matt was the one person I trusted with my life and I knew he wouldn’t judge me but was I seriously about to kiss my bestfriend???

I stood there looking up at me not a word left my mouth

“Ive kissed a lot of girls they have told me I’m a good kisser it will be fine think of it as a lesson,a kissing lesson” he said cupping on side of my face with his hand

I didn’t know what to say I just nodded in approval

“Never seen u so submissive before damn” he laughed “but use your words I need you to use your words Y/N”

“kiss me teach me” i stared up at him

He used his other hand to pull my waist closer to him resting it on the lower of my back and pulling me in for the kiss

It was slow but I quickly got the hang of it moving my lips to the rhythm of his as my arms ran up his chest and wrapped around his neck.

I pulled back with my arms still around his neck his still on my waist and cheek

“Your not bad” he said pulling my hand to the bed as he sits down, I’m stood infront of him

“I’m not” I ask

“No but I think you need more practice” he smiles pulling me onto his lap straddling him

He pulled me back in for the kiss this time one of his hand on my waist other on my ass

My hands played in his hair, the kiss was stronger this time more passionate, he lifted the bottom of my dress up and moved his hands to my hips and pushed me down bucking his up feeling his dick against my cunt making me moan lightly

He pulled away smirking, he kissed my neck which sent shivers down my spine.

I could feel his hard dick against my clothes cunt, I knew I shouldn’t have liked it as much as I was but I didn’t want it to stop I wanted more, I needed more.

Matts hand went up my dress on my bare ass squeezing lightly still sucking on my neck, I grinded my hips slowly to feel some sort of friction, “fuck” Matt groaned as he froze squeezing my hips stopping me from moving.

“Don’t do that” he said looking down at my neck “you might wanna cancel your date y/n”

“If I cancel can we continue” I ask

“If we continue it’s gonna escalate” he whispered in my ear, I could literally hear the smirk on his face as he spoke

“Well deal then, I’ll cancel and you fuck me” i smiled, I don’t know why I said that but I was sure as hell being serious

Matt looked at me shocked but with a huge smile on his face “cancel it” he said picking me up and throwing me on the bed.

“I’m pretty sure we’re gonna need this” he laughs picking up the condom that he threw at me earlier.

————

this is pretty bad but leave requests if y’all want me to write something else 😭

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturn #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo imagine #edit #fanfic #matthew sturniolo #tumblr fyp

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vimeddiart · 1 year

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I DREW MY OC TOAST AAAAAA

The folks at XPPen sent me the XPPen Deco Pro (Gen 2):

XPPen is having its 18th anniversary, and is celebrating with sales and product promos, so it's worth checking those out.

My thoughts on the tablet (and purchase links) under the cut!

⭐ Review ⭐

First impressions: After unboxing the tablet, I thought it sleek and professional-looking, especially after setting it up with my PC.

The remote I LOVED right out of the box because I enjoy fiddling with buttons and wheels. The keys are super satisfying to press.

The pen and storage case are nicely complete, lots of spare nibs to switch out (though I mainly stuck to the default nib while drawing, the textured ones have a nice gritty feel similar to paper).

I had some troubleshooting when I started, as connecting to Bluetooth wasn't happening with either the tablet or the remote. I tested the Bluetooth connection with a different device and my phone successfully, but couldn't with my work PC. I was promptly helped by XPPen Support, and it turned out to be a Windows update messing things up, so I uninstalled it and Boom; I could connect both the tablet and remote, no problem. Up until then, I used both via cable, which was a convenient option!

The tablet: The XL model at 15 x 9 inches, with plenty of space to work (although you'll need space to put it, luckily I have a lot of desk to spare), and can connect via cable or Bluetooth. It also looks so dang pretty.

The tablet was so smooth, and the pressure (16k pressure levels) felt amazing to draw with. After fiddling around with the pen settings, I barely had to press down to get a nice flowy line.

I usually work on a screen tablet, so it took some getting used to returning to a pen tablet and looking at my PC screen again, but it came back to me quickly. It actually helped my posture, as I tend to shrimp-curl over my screen tablet while working.

As lovely as it was to work on, I feel this size may be too large for me, despite it being perfectly proportional to my PC screen. I like to draw quickly, and I noticed myself making more effort to travel over the surface of the tablet and tiring my arm out faster than usual. I needed to take more breaks and stretch often, although I could classify that as positive. That said, this tablet has a sloped resting area that helped. All my drawing tablets have been medium-sized, so I'm probably just conditioned to that surface area.

The battery lasted as long as it took to draw this piece and more! I didn't need to charge it the entire time.

The remote: I love this thing so much. It has ten shortcut keys and a wheel you can configure to your heart's desire. Five sets of key functions!!! That's fifty shortcuts!! I only configured four sets and struggle to memorise them, but it's very convenient. I have my keyboard right next to the tablet and would bang out shortcuts there, but this remote changed my life.

I've been using it for a month now, and it still hasn't needed charging!

The pen: Comfy to use, with a design I was already accustomed to, and one thing I noticed was that the nib wasn't scratching the heck out of the tablet. After all the drawing I did with it, not a single mark.

I LOVE popping the case open to retrieve or store the pen, and it's one of those physical things that I find satisfying and so rare with digital products. I thought it would be nice to have a pen stand too, but I have pet birds that will (and have) run away with my tablet pens, so a storage case is a strong solution.

Final thoughts: This is a solid tablet with the potential to become an essential tool for industry professionals and freelancers. I didn't think I could be convinced out of a screen tablet, but I was offered a super strong contender. I can confidently recommend it, plus my experience with support was a positive one that boosted my trust in the brand. Overall, I had a great time using this tablet and really appreciate the opportunity I've been given to try it out!

⭐ Purchase links ⭐

US Walmart Store

CA official store

#mine #xppen #review #toast

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rojacatmisa · 5 months

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Chapitre 4 ➺ Hell Clasico

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking

4K words

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"You don’t come after training because we’re still grounded ?"

Misa’s text made my heart lifted. With the Clasico and games abroad coming, I had a huge amount of work that was keeping me out of the stadium. I had shut myself in my office for three days now, importing, retouching photos, thinking about the next games’s visuals… Due to the fact that resisting the goalkeeper was becoming more and more difficult, I had to admit I was relieved to be able to avoid her.

I thought a moment about what to answer. As soon as she had stood up from that bench on the evening at the park, Misa had been her funny self again. She had joked happily. We had said goodbye at the entrance of the parking. Like friends do. If she had been disappointed, she had been hiding it well.

And now she was texting about me for not coming to our photo meeting in a casual yet flirty way again…

"Feels like I’m the grounded one… work is having me trapped in my office!" I texted back.

"👉🤓"

"🫠👋"

She started typing and stopped. Her text bubble didn’t reappeared. I sighted. I hated having to be distant with her. I sighted again and buried myself back into work.

Fifteen minutes later, loud erratic knocks boomed against the door of my office. "What…?". Without waiting, Misa, Hayley and Sofie burst into the room. "Here she is ! You believed to could get rid of us that easy Nicky?" Hayley asked while the three girls came around my desk. Misa had bring a ball and severals biscuits with her. "What are doing here?!" I said already annoyed. I had a feeling they weren’t here to help me…

"We’re checking if you’re still Nicky and not a robot." Misa dropped the biscuits on my desk and started to play with her ball, making it rebound between her foot and thigh. Sofie was leaning toward my computer’s screen. "Do you have new photos of me?". Hayley was observing my cameras under every angles. "I’ve never seen this one, would you recommend it Nicky?" The dull sound of the ball rebounding rhythmically was constantly filling the room. I wasn’t believing how fast they had created such a mess.

"Guys, a girl needs to focus right now!" I said, eyes closed, a hand on my forehead. "Oh, you can keep working, don’t mind us." Hayley had taken a camera and was back at taking pictures. Sofie joined Misa and they went passing each other the ball. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate in this chaos.

Edit just ten more photos tonight. I said to myself. I grabbed back my pencil and graphic tab, opened a photo of Olga striking, and started to erase an unwanted grass twigs on one of her socks.

On the corner of my eye, I saw Misa’s face approaching the screen while chewing a mouthful of biscuits. "What’s this? Are you drawing?" She pointed at my tablet. The sound of the ball was still resounding, Sofie had taken over. A few crumbles fell off the goalkeeper’s mouth. "Misa! The keyboard !" I blowed hard on it to make them go away. "Perdòn!" She stood back and tried to swallow her snack. She gestured to me to explain again.

That girl can be such a pain !

"No, I can’t draw, I’m just correcting details. A pen is more precise that a mouse". I said to her.

"Oh vale ! Can I try It ?" I glared at her. "I mean not now! When you have the time. And… I can teach you football in exchange". She ended up showing an innocent smile.

That girl will drive me mad!

"Misa! Leave Nicky alone and come to my IG Live, the fans wants to see you !" Sofie called from the farthest corner.

"Coming! Nicky, take a biscuit, son muy buenos!"

They kept going like this until they were forced to leave with me. I had painfully managed to do half the work I wanted to be over. Tomorrow is another day, they say.

***

Alas, next day was just the same. They came after their practice and occupied themselves more loudly than ever until my boss finally came to have them go away. With all of that, it was miracle I had finished everything at a rather early time on the eve of the Clasico. That meant I could attend the motivation speech that followed today’s training session.

Sitting in the stands, the speech wasn’t captivating after all. Maybe I hadn’t enough knowledge of football to really get it but I found it lasting forever. The players weren't into it either. Olga’s legs were showing signs of impatience. Linda was slowly drifting. But despite my tiredness, I wanted to check on Misa and Hayley, so I kept waiting.

I caught them at the building exit. I could sensed their nervousness behind the frank smiles they both gave me as a greeting.

"Hey Nicky, great speech eh..?" Hayley hugged me, she was so tensed. "Thanks for waiting but I need go home. I’m off, girls, see you tomorrow !" Misa patted her shoulder as she left and she roughly brushed her hair in return.

I turned to the goalkeeper. "How are you coping?" I asked her gently. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "Estoy bien…", she answered peering down, her foot kicking at the floor vainly. She obviously wasn’t.

"Do you want to walk ?" I said without any back thoughts. I just wanted to help my friend to feel a bit better. She nodded.

We went touring the sport campus. We tried to talked about anything but the Clasico. At first, Misa was jumping in place every now and then to get rid of her stress. She relaxed when we started to tease each other.

"Misa, you can’t be with a ball without showing off! That’s insane!".

She smirked. "I’m athlete Nicky! Football is my life, of course I play with my ball all the time". She side glance at me, her mischievous tone and satisfied smile back. "I did 65 rebounds yesterday."

I giggled "Is that much ?". Misa’s both disappointed and irritated air had me laughing out loud.

She slapped me on the arm "Jajaja, muy divertido! Enhorabuena Nicky! I don’t care about what a girl who work al Real Madrid and knows nothing about football thinks!"

It was my turn to faint annoyance. "I see trainer Misa is long gone before she even started… you are a very reliable person." She opened her mouth but was out of answer. I had had her sulking again. Grumpy Misa was one of my favorite.

I took a pleading look. "All right, you are the best Misa! Now, when do we start training ?" I was sure the training part would lift her spirit.

She side-eyed me again, still vexed. "Have you at least ever play football ?".

I pretended to search my mind. "It happened... twice maybe. First was at school, and second on the alley in front of my parent’s house".

She snorted. "No es posible…" She shook her head and continued, her voice suddenly curious. "For real, why did you want to work for a football club?" Her mocking tone gone had me really wonder how much I wanted to tell.

"I needed a change in my life. Anything was… not going well. I had a rough break up and was really unhappy in my previous job…"

"I’m sorry to hear that" she said with a concerned look.

I half laughed half sighted. "It’s ok now. I’m glad to be here. I really like Madrid". We were reaching the exit of the building again.

"Bueno… and do you like your new job too ?"

"Yes, I’m quite found of it… and of my new exasperating friends" I went back teasing her a little as we headed to the parking.

"I’m happy you’re good with us", she said, not reacting on the teasing part this time.

We arrived in the middle of the car park. I didn’t know if we were going in the same direction so I gestured on the right "I’m parked this way".

"I’m parked over here but I’ll go with you to your car, I can do with walking a bit more " she replied although she sounded far less stressed now.

We reached my vehicle and faced each other to say goodbye. "Thanks Nicky" Misa softy spoke. Her features were less drawn. The walk had soothed her a little.

"You’re looking better. Are you sure you’re ready to go home ?" I inquired one last time.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Instead she simply smiled and looked away. "Misa?" I frowned not knowing how to help her anymore.

Her head turned back to me. She bit her lip and her eyes stopped on mine. Then she slowly moved forward. My brows went up, having me frozen in a surprised look as she took my hands in hers, and I knew that that was it, that there’s was no escaping this time, and that I didn’t gave a fuck.

I half closed my eyes, my head slightly bowed while she leant over. My gaze stayed on her quivering mouth as she approached mine. At last, she pressed her lips. I let out a short breath. I was surprise by the tenderness of her kiss. Her mouth was soft, its movements slow.

I kissed her back. Letting relief fill me up. Completely abandoning myself as her taste and scent washed over me. Our noses brushed against each other. The grip of our hands tighten as we went on kissing, softly still, slowly still.

Finally, she withdrew her lips from mine, a soft smile lingering on them, having me missing their contact immediately. My eyes couldn’t leave hers.

"I’m ready now" she whispered. I exhale and shyly smiled and she released my hands. "Good night Nicky ». She stepped back and turned over. My gaze followed her until she disappeared behind the birch trees growing between the parking spaces.

***

Aitana Bonmati was running fast, dribbling everyone coming for her. She armed her strike and shoot between Ivana and Olga toward the penalty area. The ball landed right on Salma precise foot who immediately kicked hard at the upper left corner of the goal. Misa jumped with all her strength and the tip of gloves deflated the ball, preventing Barcelona to strike once again.

The match had been hard and demanding from the very beginning. Barça team had been pressing Real Madrid players, having them constantly cornered near their penalty area. Misa had already saved five goals but as Mariona Caldentey had outpasted all the defenders for the third time and send a particularly well aimed kick to Caroline Graham Hansen, the goalkeeper had gone on the wrong direction and the ball had rolled easily in the cage. Misa had sweared, gotten up, and send a long clearance skillfully recovered by Hayley. Hayley was a fast runner too. She had passed the ball to Athenea, who had dribble passed Irene Paredes and used the one second of disorganization to find Linda. The kick from Linda’s head had miraculously flied through the expert gloves of Cata Coll, and crashed on the net behind her, filling the stadium with unexpected joy.

Returning from the halftime, Barça had pressed harder and harder without succeeding at scoring yet an other goal. After a clever discussion in locker room during the break, the real Madrid was holding well against them for the first time, Misa’s many saves putting and end to theirs brilliant sequences of passes. And the unbelievable had happened at de 78th min. Naomie had succeeded at loosing Alexia Putellas’marker to get the ball from Oihane’s throw-in. Her quick arched shot had found Olga on the left side, who had managed a shot worthy of the World Cup. She had stricken from her rather distant position straight at the right upper corner, giving Cata Coll an impossible job. The stadium had burst screaming, echoing Madrid players all hugging together to celebrate their first time ever leading Barcelona.

It was extra time when Misa’s body crashed on the grass again from saving Salma’s strike. The Madrid player were back at having a hard time. I could see they were physically drained, their feet barely touching the ball anymore.

They all took position, ready for the corner, Misa giving directions to her teammates as she prepared herself for the upcoming action. Salma struck. She crossed the ball back from the goal line. The ball descended on Alexia in a perfect neat curve before she sent it crashing to the net. Barcelona had come up to the score, victory slipping through the Madrid girls'fingers at the 95th minute. Now, the match was going extra time. I saw Misa down in her attempt to save to ball, kicking the grass with her fists in frustration. As well trained as they were, the team was exhausted. With Barça clearly dominating, the extra time was going to be a living hell.

Misa passed by me as she exit the tunnel to ran toward her goal after the short break. I took a shot of her face, a mix of deep concentration and extreme fatigue. My heart sank. I had been covering the match with other photographers from the start, trying hard to focus on my job rather than on the ongoing actions and the increasing pressure on Misa.

The game resumed. Madrid team formed two compact lines in front of the goal. They had received new guidelines: keep on defending and don’t take another goal at all cost. Their strategy, and Ivana’s agile foot prevented a new shot on target finding the net. The only two more attempts of Madrid met Cata’s gloves, her clearance sending the ball back on their half pitch again. But, they hold on again and again the entire the first half of extra time.

During the second, fouls and cramps multiplied on each sides, chopping the play in numerous sloppy actions and hardening the footballer’s job by giving them unnecessary minor injuries. Misa’s attempt to grab a shot by Mariona sent her rolling on ground and her knee hit the goal-post. The ball luckily found the cross-bar and was quickly cleared by Kathellen. But Misa was still down, grasping her knee between the puffy fingers of her gloves. I shuddered. No please! Let not it be a serious injury! I silently prayed. The medical staff came over after the referee had blown the whistle. With several of her teammates surrounding, I could barely see what was going on.

I waited, trying to breathe properly, not looking at the last picture I took of Misa, curled up on the grass, her features distorted by pain. After what was feeling like an hour, the med staff went away and the small crowd scattered, revealing Misa standing on her feet again, though she was breathing hard and slightly limping. I relaxed a little.

The goalkeeper settled back in front of her caged but she gave the ball to Ivana for her to do a long clearance. She clearly hadn’t the strength anymore. The ball was back in her penalty area in a heartbeat but the match had Madrid finally find the key to put up a very strong defence. When the whistle blew again, it was to put an end to the game at last.

The penalty shoot out would decide the winner of the Copa de la Reina. More than ever, the outcome of the match was now resting mostly on Misa’s shoulders.

The goalkeeper and the rest of the team gathered around the trainer near the bench. I crossed eyes with Misa and I smiled, my fist clenched up in the air to show her my support. She didn’t seemed to see me. Nothing exists apart from the game when she was playing.

Madrid opened the shoot out with Olga. She shot, scored. Cheers burst.

Misa jumped on her line. Caroline Graham Hansen scored as well.

Claudia kicked hard on her right but Cata had understand where she was aiming. Her body blocked the ball, having Barça yelling in triumph.

Aitana scored.

Athenea scored.

Mariona scored.

Hayley scored.

Last ball. All was resting on Misa. If she failed the ball, everything was over.

Alexia armed her leg. Kicked. The ball flew on the opposite of the goalkeeper.

It was it. Madrid had lost. I forgot to take pictures, focusing on the limp body of Misa still laying on her back, her gloves on her face. As the Barcelona players hugged together in victory, the sturdy figure of Alexia was crouched at Misa side, muttering to her words I could not hear. She heaved Misa to her feet, helped her taking off her gloves. I could see her face wet with tears, her eyes puffed and closed as she was still sobbing. They leaved the pitch, Alexia’s arm over Misa’s shoulders. One of other photograph was shooting restlessly at them while they headed toward the tunnel. I couldn’t suppress a surge of anger.

I got up, quickly took the steps that separated me from the man with the camera.

"Give her a rest ok ?!" I shouted in his direction. The man stared blankly at me, astonished. In addition to my strange behavior, he probably wasn’t speaking English.

Noticing my action, Misa and Alexia had stopped. When she saw me close, Misa lowered her head as if she couldn’t bear to look at me. Alexia stared kindly at me, guilt still her eyes as she knew she had partly caused the sadness of her friend.

"I can take her to the locker room if you want" I said, instantly shocked by my own words when I couldn’t leave my job.

Misa lifted her face again. Alexia looked at the goalkeeper to see if she was ok with that. Misa nodded and I took over Alexia to guide her through the tunnel.

I made Misa sat on the farthest bench of the locker room. Everything was quiet here, the screeches of the celebration only a distant echo. The goalkeeper had stopped crying. Her board shoulders and muscular body seemed so fragile somehow. I took a seat beside her, not knowing what to do now it was up to me to comfort her.

"I’m sorry" I simply said.

"We were so close!" she cried. "Let’s just go! I don’t want to be there, I don’t want the puta silver medal again!" She blown her nose hard and rubbed her red eyes with a towel laying by. Exhaustion was oosing from her at every levels.

"No Misa you can’t go" I responded and caught a surprised side eye, as surprise as she could be in her current state. "You can’t go because everything’s not about wining or being better or best ! You can’t go because football doesn’t have to be that. It’s not about the score, the cup or whatever. Football is an emotion, a battle, a shared experience. And first and foremost it’s a spectacle and you put on one hell of a show as a team and as a player tonight! If you go, nothing remain, it would mean nothing. You have to go back Misa."

Silence settled between us. I felt exposed and embarrassed by the words I had just spoken. It was ridiculous, saying obvious things like that to a seasoned footballer when I was barely discovering the sport.

The goalkeeper exalted deeply. "You lied to me" she said, gotten me confused. She chuckled softy "You acted like you didn’t know a thing about football". She painfully stood up and waved me to do the same. "But you do" she said smiling as we faced each other. The tall woman pulled me into a hug, her head resting on my shoulder and I hold her tight against me. I gently stroked her back, her jersey was wet and she was clearly stinking of sweat but I didn’t care. I just wanted us to stay like this, clump together.

After a minute or so, we parted and smiled softy at each other. In spite of her weariness, Misa was looking less drained. She was waiting for... something while expectantly looking at me. Her dimples back with her grin enlighten her tired face. I kept smiling, my mind racing to figure out what I should do, what I could do… what I wanted do to. When she thought I wouldn’t do anything, Misa’s smile faded a little and she started to turn around.

"Misa, wait…" I grabbed her arm and pulled her back against me. I only took a glimpse of her surprised yet eager face before I kissed her.

I grasped her face, pressed her mouth harder against mine. Misa let out a whine, the sound of it had my body set afire. I slowly made her step back until she hit the lockers room’s door. She gasped at the contact, put one of her hand in my hair, the other gripping the fabric of the bottom of my shirt. She opened her lips, her taste filled me up entirely and had me moan with want.

Our heated kiss had enlighten all my senses and turned my body into white iron. I felt my hand acting on her own as it went under Misa’s jersey and up her abs. She wimped again, her own fingers going under my shirt and touching the skin of my waist. Her soft and full lips were enveloping my mouth, our breathings had become jerky.

Fevered by my desire of her, I led my hand down her stomach to the strap of her shorts. She groaned and froze. "Wow! Nicky wait…" I stopped neat. She took her hands off my back and gently seized my face. "I have to go back" she said, a burning gaze on me. I breathed, trying to tame the flames devouring my insides. I smiled and repeated, "You have to go back". She placed a last kiss on my lips and got off the room.

Right now, Hell Clasico was finishing on a heavenly note.

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Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

#woso #misa rodriguez #espwnt #fanfic #futbolista #real madrid femenino #spain wnt #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez fanfic #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #womens football #hayley raso #fanfic art #woso blurbs #woso x reader

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cinnamontails-ff · 1 month

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Writing Interview Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @roguishcat ❤ I love getting to chat about these things.

When did you start writing?

I know this sounds cheesy, but the answer is probably as soon as I could hold a pen. My grandma still has stacks of little stories I wrote (and illustrated ...) when I was a kid. Very cute, but I'm glad I gave up on drawing in the meantime.

I've been writing on and off ever since, but it wasn't until I was in my mid twenties that I decided I'd actively pursue a career in writing. I wrote a few original novels, none of which were ever successful in the world of traditional publishing, then got into fanfiction as a way of rekindling my joy. Once I'm done with my current fic, I'm ready to try with traditional publishing again. Maybe it'll work this time, maybe not, but I guess the bottom line is that I'll always write in some capacity.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I really like stories that are a little unsettling. Not horror, per se (I'm a coward), but those underlying creepy vibes, especially when they come wrapped up in beautiful language and actually end up culminating in something cool toward the end of the story. "Uprooted" by Naomi Novik comes to mind, "The Devil and the Dark Water" by Stuart Turton, and "Portrait of the Pale Elf" by @larvasmoon.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Terry Pratchett is the person who first sold me on the English language. Prior to his books, I'd never seen anyone use English in such a fun, cheeky yet poignant way, and it's definitely something I find myself emulating (all while hopefully putting my own spin on it). I have been compared to him a few times and it's always made my day.

Oh, and I guess Stephen Sommers because people compare my fic to "The Mummy" a lot. Which honestly, is just as flattering.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

At my desk, with a mechanical keyboard. Not because I'm a hipster but because I have absolutely destroyed my laptop's keyboard and then the shop where I'd buy the replacement keys stopped selling my model and I refuse to replace the whole laptop.

I need a sense of quiet when I write. Usually, I write early in the morning before I go to work, and it's honestly my favorite time of the day. It's dark and quiet, I'm all alone, and the day still feels so fresh and full of possibility. I cannot write in public; I find it too distracting. Occasionally, when I'm very in the zone, I'll edit at work but it's never quite as productive.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Go and hunt that bitch down. I know many people love romanticizing their craft and if it helps them to light scented candles or play aesthetic playlists - go for it! For me, the most powerful tool is routine. Knowing that every morning I will sit down and I will write, whether I feel like it or not. Sometimes I drag my feet the whole time, sometimes things click into place and suddenly, I'm having the best time ever. But I will always put words on the page and for me, there's no better feeling than having written (past tense).

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

You probably know this, but I really, really love stories where a regular guy/gal saves the day. It makes me so happy to see the evil vampire lord taken out by the mousy accountant, the fountain pen striking harder than the sword. I think it's because I like to read about real people. People that you could have met in real life, that seem simple on the outside, but have all this strength locked up inside. It's why I dislike stories with picture perfect beauty goddesses that always have the perfect quip, always take out their opponents with 1 blow because they're just that special.

Normal people are special, too. You just need to look a little harder to see.

What is your reason for writing?

I believe it was Brandon Sanderson who said "Stories are like real life but with the boring parts removed". That has really resonated with me. I think the beautiful thing about stories is that they can portray very real issues and conflicts in a way that is infinitely more satisfying because it's all been arranged just so. It can give you closure, it can make you see something in an entirely new light without feeling confrontational. It's like a really, really good conversation with the author and I hope that's what my writing feels like as well.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Two things. I love when readers point out specific lines they enjoyed and I love it when they tell me they reread my work. The term "comfort read" makes me particularly happy because that's exactly how I reread my favorite stories as well.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I think the most important part to me is that my stories feel real. I dislike pretentious, over-the-top writing where you can tell the author is trying super hard to sound clever or sexy or just drowns you in heaps of cheap, undeserved drama that never leads anywhere. With my stories, I want things to feel earned. Natural. Maybe you wouldn't have made those choices, but it makes sense that these characters would have and now we're looking at the very real consequences of their actions.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Character voice, specifically in 3rd person limited. My favorite type of narration because I love getting into a character's head and making you see things through their eyes.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I think every writer struggles with their confidence here and there. I've gone through so many cycles in the past 1.5 years, it's kind of crazy. Going from constant failure in the world of publishing to writing your very first fanfiction just for fun and then having it blow up out of nowhere, all these people showering you in praise, only for the vast majority of them to disappear immediately afterward is a lot to process. We write for ourselves, yes, but as a writer, you can't help but take reader responses to heart. Fortunately, I've never let it influence what I write or how I write; it really only affects my mental state. I know what I like to read and those are the stories I am going to tell, whether they're successful or not.

Aww, this was fun! Tagging @larvasmoon @davenswitcher @pickel182 @karinamay @pouroverpaloma ❤ ❤ ❤

#ask game #my writing #cinnamontails

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catalinadearagonsblog · 1 month

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A musical portrait of the life of Katharine of Aragon, Henry VIII’s Spanish Queen, ‘K of A’ is an instrumental album by English composer and keyboard player Geoff Proudley, drawing on orchestral, classical, filmic and rock elements to paint some of the key moments and emotions in Katharine’s life.

As Geoff describes ‘It’s been a three-year labour of love. Starting with an original mysterious Spanish theme that came to me when I was reading about Katharine, I gradually started to write more, fleshing out episodes and moments of her life. I suppose it was a bit like writing for plays and getting inside the characters, what she was feeling and then painting musical pictures of events in her life’. It’s something I find I can do. It usually comes through in what I write, through my subconscious. For this album I think I wrote about 70% of the themes and main frameworks of the pieces in one weekend of piano improvisation. Again, thinking about the events in her life and capturing everything I played into Logic. Then going back and listening to what I had. I often write that way and I find it really productive.’

Track listing:

Why the Tudors and why Katharine?

“Well, I know they’ve been done to death (literally!). But it’s still fascinating five hundred years later. I mean you couldn’t write it could you? It’s easy to be appalled by the brutality of people and their thinking. But these people thought completely differently to us. Everyone was intensely religious. Kings and Queens had real power and the survival of their dynasties was a matter of life and death lest they be usurped by someone with an equally tenuous claim to the throne!

But I know what you might be thinking. Didn’t Rick Wakeman do Henry’s six wives back in the seventies? Well yes, but that was an album about all his wives. A whistle-stop tour of the matrimonial set. This is purely about Katharine and follows her life from leaving Spain as a teenager to marry Prince Arthur, through her subsequent widowhood and betrothal to Prince Henry. Then her coronation when Henry ascended to the throne and life as queen consort and then queen regent (when Henry was at war with France). It moves on through her fall from grace, her cruel banishment and divorce after failing to provide a male heir, the split with the Catholic church of Rome and her eventual death while under effective house arrest in 1536. It’s been a really interesting project. I learned a lot about her. I empathised with her plight too having been through a divorce myself. That might sound pretentious, but those sorts of emotions resonate through history. They are as real today as five centuries ago”.

#catherine of aragon #katherine of aragon #catalina de aragon #geoff proudley

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troxlerfx · 6 months

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hello!! i am troxler (trox if you're nasty) and you might know me from my xwitter @ broadcastrelay or my old experimental art blog @hand-in-hand-again .

this blog is sfw. i have a more reblog-heavy nsfw sideblog, @heartshapedsignal , where i can place aesthetics, rb art that i like, Cronenbergpost & generally toss up more intense horror things & keep this one somewhat more tidy + personal-art-oriented. follow my alt if you please; although it's unlikely i'll ever post anything too explicit, there is nsfw/🔞 potential, so again, heartshapedsignal is 🔞 just to be safe!!

i have a throne account here if you'd like to support my work by helping with supplies & thereby earn my eternal gratitude:

commissions are currently closed & i will update here & on xwitter if that changes!!

i do have discord if you'd like to chat, you can DM me for my username. i'm vision impaired & it's a little easier for me than tumblr DMs (scalable font. properly mapped keyboard that allows me to hit the right keys occasionally. you know 👁️)

i am sometimes slow to respond to messages, but i don't expect you to be available all the time either--i answer things when i have a moment, & i assume others do too ✌️ i have the temperament of a displaced 11th century anchorite, am simply not adapted to the tone & pace of centralized social media.

i also unfortunately cannot voice call or stream/screen share because i am a millennial (just kidding, it's because my phone is almost 9 years old & it overheats when i check my e-mail)

learn a bit more about me under the cut ✂️

i was dropped into this simulation in the early 80s, i'm a disabled artist (vision impaired - [ask me about my atrophied optic nerves] - & have some other physical Issues so i use a cane) & my wife and i host two black cats, roughly 35% of a mannequin, and a whole lot of dolls.

all my art is trad/physical media (haven't figured out a way to make digital art accessible yet. maybe someday!!) i like to sculpt in epoxy, plastilene, polymer & stone clay, i like to mold & cast in resin, make & customize various types of dolls, & build puppets; i do custom framed work, mixed media & textile stuff like sewing & embroidery; i paint in oil, acrylic, watercolor, gouache & water soluble graphite & i love ink, markers, crayons & whatever cheap & weird stuff i can get my hands on.

i have a particular affection for props, prop replicas & hypothetical in-universe items, & i like things that are handsome, durable & believable. i'm versatile & innovative, & i'm at my happiest when i'm exploring technical processes. i have quite a bit of knowledge about techniques & materials. i love a challenge!! currently all my sewing is done by hand, i have trouble controlling pedal-operated machines.

my favorite thing is horror coated in a fine layer of nostalgia & sprinkled with history. that seems highly specific, but you'd be surprised how many things fit the criteria. i tend to fixate on characters & concepts & do a lot of art about it - a habit i developed while i was re-teaching myself to draw after the changes to my eyesight. my output is largely therapeutic. sometimes people like it. maybe you will too!!

a good amount of my work is fanart & will be tagged as such/otherwise linked to the appropriate project, original work will be specified & have its own tag.

at the moment i make a lot of work related to the independent psychological horror unfiction project Welcome Home, created by ' partycoffin ' here on tumblr.

that's all for now!! 👁️‍🗨️📺

#trox talks #artists on tumblr

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moki-dokie · 3 days

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so, hozier concert on thursday (yay!) that i am perhaps a little too excited for. i made a sign, as I'll be basically front row, just asking andrew to collab with another, very small and practically unheard of irish artist whom i adore (sam kelly & the lost boys, you're welcome). it's a pretty basic sign overall but...

it took me 3 days to complete it. i didn't realize how bad my tremors had become until now. i can't draw a straight line at all anymore. anything thicker than a pencil i drop very easily. lost count of how many times i dropped the markers. guess thats probably why i've been dropping my silverware more often lately too.

a couple of very depressing realizations hit me while making this. one, even if i wanted to, i'll never be able to do traditional art again. i rely so heavily on stabilization and undo anymore. unless i went and took a dramatic shift into abstractism, which lmao is not happening, then that's just done for. and two, if it continues progressing at this rate, i might actually be disabled to a degree in the not so distant future. like, 5-10 years. i'm seriously hoping it doesn't get much worse. i mean as long as i can still hold my hands steady enough to type that's all that truly matters to me. if i have to give up art altogether that'll suck but writing is my life. i write every single day. a lot. i think the longest i've gone without writing over the last 25 years that i've been doing my own little stories or roleplays or fics is... a little over a year? mainly because of meds. and i had to slow it down considerably last year from injuring my wrist. from writing so much. lmao. but so far i don't have any issues with the keyboard so fingers crossed it stays that way.

idk why it feels so embarrassing either. like most of the time i can't notice it much unless i'm physically writing something (which I don't do much at all anymore) or, apparently, when playing with markers trying to draw letters lol but then like, i'll be watching a show with my ex or something and he's like "you good? you're shaking like mad" and apparently my head is just wobbling around like a absolute lunatic. liiiike fuck me i guess. i hate being perceived most of the time and now i have something that makes me highly noticable. gross. i hate it. i don't even particularly care what people may think, i just don't like attention drawn to myself. i exist in everyone's periphery and i prefer it that way. now i get to be all fuckin weirded out and embarrassed over being noticed as mcwobblyfuck over here. ugh. like i wasn't already reclusive enough. less incentive to be out amongst people now.

but man, what a strange feeling this is. and all from making a silly little posterboard sign lol. i generally don't like to warn people away from antidepressants, different things work for different people and all, but absolutely fuck welbutrin and stay away from it if you can. sure, permanent tremors after discontinuing it is rare but, fuck, i was on it all of like three months, about 8 years ago, and it fucked me up for life. and, as per usual, i was not taken seriously when i first brought it up to my doc. not that anything can be done about it at all, but it's just frustrating.

#moki talks #blehhh #i would journal but that requires physical writing and that requires effort these days

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feyspeaker · 7 months

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Hii me again. I'm not sure if I sent the ask I'm talking about on anon, so maybe that's why you didn't see it? It partially got answered with a recent ask you got anyway so no worries. I was just wondering if you use 3d in your process and if so, how? I've seen other illustrators use it to varying degrees and it seems like a really helpful tool to push your work.

Oh that's so weird! No I periodically go through my asks in chunks and I didn't see anything like that. I've had a few people in the past few months send me asks that looked like the second half of something else with no context, so maybe it's Tumblr fuckery. Sorry!!

I recommend learning Blender so you can help sculpt shapes and render lighting onto them in order to get the weirder/more complex shadows right. You can also apply colors onto the things you sculpt in order to see how the colors act in different lighting. It's pretty much an invaluable tool to me as it keeps me from having to problem-solve too much. I did a lot of digging around in my house to build references to photograph but it was just impractical to achieve the things I want to a lot of the time. I still do that, and you would not believe how many goofy photos I have of my husband in the poses you've seen me paint Astarion in lmao...

I do think that it needs to be used in moderation if you are a more beginner artist- I think that using 3D is DANGEROUSLY close to becoming a massive crutch for a newer artist and improper usage or over reliance on it can lead to stiffness or artificial looking colors. You need to be able to train your eye to create compelling compositions by bashing things together, and train your hand to replicate/add/subtract as needed from your references with an organic feel.

I will say this as a total committer of this crime myself in the past, it's VERY easy to tell when an artist relies too much on, for example, Clip Studio Paint posed models as bases for pieces without a good enough grasp on their fundamentals. And I also used to prickle when I saw more advanced artists warn of this, so I do think maybe it just has to run its course sometimes, because I know that using 3D for reference seems like an easy-button.

I've taken a lot of in-person classes for live figure drawing and painting, as well as just totally done drills, basically, on sketching and painting from life before relying too much on static imagery/3D/etc.

I often fret over every piece I do looking too stiff even still.

You have to do a LOT of the boring hard stuff the old fashioned way. And I regularly go back to it over and over when needed.

For example, I recently did a stupid amount of rose petal/flower studies deconstructing and painting ugly little paintings/doodles over and over because I know that I've been horribly weak at painting flowers for years (actively avoiding them). And I've been doing a lot of floral stuff lately due to that.

Whenever I start a new piece in new territory, I know it's going to mean several 3AM nighters where I have two other tabs open on Photoshop where I test out different textures or do a couple of studies. I'm working on a piece of my OC right now that has a lot of gore/medical instruments and I've been working on testing out different methods for shiny metal painting and some anatomical studies. I'll come to a snag in a painting and go "here we go" and work through it one piece at a time.

My Halsin piece, "Secret Spot" in the hot spring, was a massive undertaking with a lot of these moments. The Karlach x Dammon piece took 3 times longer than it should have due to me just having to go back and fix things knowing I could do better after doing some studies.

Ultimately I personally find art tutorials to be quite useless overall once you get to a certain point, unless they are teaching the use of a tool/software because you HAVE to figure out what works for you. And even then I use Blender like a monkey with a keyboard, I suspect, because I've just bruteforced through it, so I could probably use a tuneup from a good teacher on that haha. I hope this helps some, and sorry if I overstepped if I sound preachy.

#ask

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boxheadpaint · 7 months

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good: have been drawing a lot in my sketchbook lately, mostly with pencil. do you know how awesome it is to have a sharpener on hand immediately too. making smooth gem-ish shading is very fun and time consuming too, so its a nice way to distract myself. i need to get back into my pixel projects as well- i forgot that aseprite is still technically a steam game so my friend asked me why i have 6000 hours in it (i keep basically all art programs open to have them on hand fast). i want to get watercolor markers or something to make funny things more. i used to draw a lot back in school of course because it was easier than doing the actual work i guess- now i have some block about drawing traditionally where i forget it for a long while and also need to be in a very specific spot for it to be enjoyable (in this case thecorner of the living room couch). ill figure out how to use the scanner by myself at some point

bad: toenail is starting to hurt again, swelling, had a rough time yesterday with my heart blasting in spite of Actually No Anxiety for once and not even having a huge meals, just snacking until dinner (by which point i had weakened considerably but even before that when i had eaten it was like techno in there.) i still have yet to get the long ecg or whatever it is, though i do have a random app with the doctor on the 27th so maybe i can ask for a referral that isnt over an hour away from where i live. the gums of a tooth in the back of my mouth was hurting for a while but seems fine now, wasnt sure what i was gonna do about that so thats good. can go back to brushing normal now. still havent gotten lab orders.

the cats were grooming eachother on the couch a second ago and now theyre getting feisty and bitey and silly so i cant really stay depressed. dreams have been weirdly vivid as of late for better and for worse, even just during naps. makes it even more exhausting. for the past 3 weeks or so ive had a consistent thought whenever ive been stressed of "i need to go curl up in a dirt hole somewhere else", which while not good isnt the worst thing to think at least

2/20/2024, you can type a lot more with an actual keyboard

#diary

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ra-scheln · 1 month

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Writing Interview Tag Game

The lovely @kimberbohwrites tagged me – thank you so much!

When did you start writing?

I don’t remember a time before stories. Partially it might have been due to my environment, that I had to escape somehow – even if I could only retreat into my own mind and the worlds I could make up there. They weren’t really finished narratives, I was mostly into making up worlds that my friends would add characters to, and we would draw comics around the stories that developed from that .

Although that stopped when I was around fifteen or sixteen. The abuse at home kept escalating with my growing independence, and I couldn’t maintain the connection to myself necessary for true creativity and the willful ignorance regarding what was happening to me I had developed to protect myself. There is no writing or other piece of art from my time, because I just stopped being able to do it.

Stories I need to live, said ignorance I needed to survive, so it had to take precedence.

Ten years later or so, I’ve been reclaiming my own perception of events with, among other things, half a decade of therapy now. I can touch my own ideas again without them slipping through my hands.

BG3 is it’s own special joy here – it’s the first fandom I’ve really written for, recently, and that’s mostly thanks to the writer friends I’ve found through it (my pedipalps <3).

Are there different themes or genres that you enjoy reading than what you write?

Outside of fanfic, yes! I read a lot of classic stuff – Thomas Mann, Michail Bulgakow, Oscar Wilde are the last few authors I read in that department. Fiction-wise, I enjoy things that explore the more ambiguous sides of human emotion, or generally darker and more serious stuff – Das Parfüm by Patrick Süskind (The perfume) for example, although that’s something I also write about. I’d also count Accabadora by Michaela Murgia amongst that, though that’s also a historically inspired and socio-critical. Tbh I mostly read nonfiction though, Roberto Saviano’s works on the Ndragheta and other organised crime are currently back on my mind.

In fanfic, I’m pretty stuck in my tastes as far as themes go, but there are some characters that don’t inspire me to write, but that I like reading about – Rolan for example (though I might have something cooking for him), or Halsin.

Can you tell me about your writing space?

I often lug my laptop to the university library or onto my balcony, but I’ve also recently treated myself to new desk equipment – so I’ve started using it more, now that I have a second monitor, a nice mechanical keyboard and a chair that doesn’t kill my back.

One thing about my writing space though – it has to be spotless. I can’t deal with crumbs on my table or unfolded laundry lying around.

This all goes for writing itself. My ideas I mostly write down by hand in my notebook, wherever I am in that moment.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I don’t. I either have something to say and then I sit down and say it, or I don’t. Your mind also needs to lie fallow every now and then.

If the words aren’t flowing when the ideas themselves are there, it’s usually because something else is taking up my attention. Be it any kind of mess (as I said…) or something I’m avoiding in other areas of my life, that has to be taken care of first.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing?

Some are fairly common in fanfic – trauma, the aftermath of sexual abuse etc. I think some of my other patterns are characters that are neither good nor bad, the need to accept yourself and what you’ve done even if others may not forgive you, and love that is built, not found.

What is your reason for writing?

The words have to go somewhere, or I start to get restless.

In seriousness, I also think that stories are a chance to explore the things that often don’t have room in daily life. Especially fiction that doesn’t have to perform well, like fanfics, can leave the kind of room for the regular human messiness to breathe.

Is there any kind of specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I haven’t published a lot yet and I haven’t received that many comments yet; So it’s hard to say. But so far I can say that whenever I can feel that my writing touched someone and they take the time to share that with me it stays with me for a long time, and keeps me motivated to keep sharing my stuff.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I haven’t thought about that yet much, and the idea of someone developing a parasocial relationship makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but uh… I think I’d like my writing to feel safe to people? Not necessarily in the sense that they won’t encounter difficult themes and injustices in it, but that the darker themes I explore are handled in an informed and tasteful way.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think my compassion with my characters and their actions. Nuance, in general, seems to be my thing as well – I don’t do black and white.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I’m a bit frustrated that my fictional writing is all in English, currently. It’s neither my first nor my fourth language, and it’s not my favourite language to read in either.

Aside from that… I’m growing fond of my own style, now that I’ve found my voice, sort of. My sense of humour is starting to shine through, which is also nice!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

So far, what I want to write and say takes precedence. I do, of course, think about the “how” of writing – how style and vocabulary can help me get my ideas across. Who knows, I could try taking requests, that might be fun.

Tagging: @dutifullylazybread @blackjackkent @invinciblerodent @faerielli and @lewdisescariot

EDIT: AND @forget-me-maybe!!! As well als @cactusmisslittle

#writing #about the armadillo

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astarionancuntnin · 1 month

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✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Thank you for the tag @nyx-knox!! <33

When did you start writing?

Like wayyyyyyyyy back, I technically wrote my first story when i was 11. I didn't write again until i was 15 (original pieces + fanfics), then i stopped and Im back at it again at 26 ayoooo

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

if i really need to search further into my favorite books, i would definitely say psychological horror and dramas

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I don't know writers enough to really get an idea of how to compare myself to any of them, but I do know that i tend to emulate what i'm exposed to, so if I read an entire series from an author, and they used a certain syntax, i'll tend to also do it by force of habit. (i also consider it a flaw cause i see it as hindering my writing creativity ;-;)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

its my personal pc that doubles as my work space, so its a bit all over the place ngl haha, theres a lot of astarion stickers and posters, all the furniture (keyboard, mouse, desk, etc) is pastel purple (my favorite colour), i have three screens (mostly for work but its also useful in day to day life) and my three wallpapers are astarion, of course. sometimes when i feel a writers block, i found out that writing on my laptop does unblock me! in that case, youll find me typing away on my couch in my living room uwu

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

MUSIC. What I write will be highly dependent on what I listen at the moment, like I was really into boywithuke when i wrote my angsty fics, and then i moved to a dark romance playlist and that got me going for die for you but then i was unable to continue my other fic cause i wasnt in an angsty mood anymore ._. (i swear i didnt abandon it, it just isnt the playlists turn to play on repeat) and rn im a lot into sleep token and ari abdul

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

So. Much. Smut. And angst. not surprising! my writing will also often depict my current state of mind. dw im in therapy, im working on it

What is your reason for writing?

It's my favorite creative output/the one im most experienced in! i wanna start drawing but i never find the time to really get into it and also terrified of failure which brings me to my second reason, its all i think i can do and i get dopanine reading nice comments teehee

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

when people tell me about a favourite part, when they liked the tension i managed to create, how i convey some characters, and most of all when i get told they loved a character i created!! this is so encouraging and pushes me to continue <3

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

i dont know how to answer to that .-. uh, i guess i want to be liked? seen as a good writer if anything? idk man ;-;

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Definitely descriptions, and creating a build up in a scene. I feel like it comes naturally to me and people have often told me that they are never lost when reading my scenes which reassures me so much LMAO I feel validated I also think I make really fun dialogue, especially banter with my ocs/tavs

How do you feel about your own writing?

i often self criticise my own work a lot, and i get that imposter syndrome where ill reread my work before posting and go "what the hell" in those moments, im grateful im not writing on paper cause that sheet would find its way to the trash real quick ^^ ' im sincerely truly blessed that my partner offers himself to read my pieces and beta read them, and tell me his honest opinion (there are things i wrote i wish i could forget and yall better be thankful he was there to stop me from posting first versions)

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

mix of both definitely. initially i wrote my own ideas and if people do end up liking them hell yeah!!! glad im able to find people that vibe the same way i do! then again, when i write for people, even if most of it comes from my silly little imagination, it was initially influenced by the request itself and is going to guide the writing specific to this piece, which honestly makes sense imo

Tagging 🏷️: @marlowethebard @roguishcat @anacdoce @charmandabear @marimosalad

#tagged

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blackwolfstabs · 10 months

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30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 28

THE CHAIR

Tara finishes a paper and has Sam proofread it.

“Hey, Sam?!” Tara shouted from her desk in her room.

“Yeah?!”

“Can you come here?!” she answered, leaning back into her chair and arching her back to stretch the stiffness in it. She heard her sister’s footsteps come down the hallway and glanced over to her open door, where her figure soon appeared.

“What do you need?” Sam asked.

Her sister nodded to her laptop that sat glowing on her desk. “I finished my paper. Can you read over it for me?”

She nodded and came into the room to make her way to the desk, “Sure.” When Tara got up, she sat down and reviewed the layout. “When is this due?”

“Tonight, at midnight.”

“You realize that’s in 10 minutes, right?” Sam’s gaze broke away from the screen to glare at her. “Why did you wait so long to write it?”

The other rolled her eyes, “Because that was the most boring prompt ever! Just be glad I even made an effort to complete it. I was tempted to just turn in my outline.” She stretched her arms above her head with a gratified groan. “It’s not that long, it’ll probably take you, like, 5 minutes.” When she was answered with a scoff, she dismissed herself to let her paper be proof-read accordingly. “I’m going to get water now. Correct any grammar mistakes you see, because I’m sick of looking at it.”

Sam spent the next few minutes reading and making minor edits to her little sister’s essay, until she came back in.

Tara placed her water cup down and looked over her shoulder to monitor where she was at. “You’re only this far?” She was surprised.

“Grammar isn’t exactly your strong suit, Tara,” was the flat reply.

The younger Carpenter just huffed and moved to nudge the propped arm that Sam was leaning her head against. When she earned a confused look, she took it upon herself to briefly explain. “Move. I wanna sit with you,” she ordered.

Sam glanced down to the single-person chair, and then looked back up at her. “Uh, this chair’s for one person?”

“That’s fine.” Tara’s invited herself to slip between the occupied seat and the desk to sit down on her lap. “I’m small, so you can just hold me.” She grabbed her cup and took another sip, trying to hide the amused smile pulling at her lips while her big sister blinked at her.

“Are you serious?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded and put the cup back down on the desk. “Absolutely. Now, quit staring at me and stare at my paper, yeah?” she playfully reached behind to poke her side.

Sam smirked and rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m the one doing you a favor, remember?” she teased and returned the prod. “I could make you read over it yourself.”

Her little sister snickered and twisted away at the contact. “Nooo, I’m too tired to do it myself,” she whined, dramatically.

Again, her sibling scoffed and shook her head, letting Tara lean back into her, to which she rested her chin on her shoulder to continue reading.

While she did so, Tara took the arm that wasn’t controlling the mouse and guided it over her torso to hold her in place. She tilted her head, studying the skin of her sister’s forearm. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

“Mm– not really,” came the quick answer.

She began tracing random drawings and designs on her arm, continuing to space-off into the idea. “We should get matching tattoos. We could do, like, matching emojis, or each other’s birthdays, or our initials. Ooh, or what about a knife and phone—”

“Tara, I have 4 minutes to read this,” Samantha cut in. “I can’t focus when you’re talking.”

“Sorry.”

The younger Carpenter sighed and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. As she blinked at the shadows from the popcorn detail, she listened to the sound of Sam’s steady breathing and the occasional clicking of the mouse and keyboard. Then, she shifted herself to the side, draping her legs over the other’s and holding onto her neck, like she used to do as a kid. Sam shifted a little but didn’t seem to mind, which allowed her to nuzzle her head into the crook of her neck to watch the screen with weary eyes. “You’re almost done,” she pointed out, “This is the last paragraph before the conclusion.” When she wasn’t answered in any way, she asked, “Am I heavy?”

This got her a response. “No,” her older sister shook her head, the arm around the other’s waist pulling tighter to hold her close. She knew whenever Tara was tired, she became clingy and seemed to regress into her pre-adolescent behaviors—when she’d want her attention and affection. She never minded, though.

“But heavier than when we were little, right?”

Still, the older Carpenter denied it, “Nope.” She scrolled down the screen to move on to the conclusion. “Never has there ever been a time when I couldn’t hold you.”

This made Tara chuckle. “You say that like you think it’ll be that way forever.”

“It will be. I’d hold you no matter what, my love.”

“Even if I told you not to?” she tested.

“Yep.”

“Even if I yelled at you and made you cry?”

“Mm-hmm.”

And then her challenges started to become darker.

“Even if your arms were broken?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Even if the world was falling down around us?”

“No matter what.”

“‘Forget the world, there’s just us,’ right?”

Sam finished reading her sister’s essay and looked away from the screen to kiss her head. “Mm-hmm. That’s right.”

Tara then lightened the mood. “You’re so drama-coded, Sammy,” she teased.

“You’re the one who climbed in my lap, because you wanted my attention,” she countered.

The other turned her face to hide it in her sister’s shirt. “How do you know?”

She chuckled. “It was the chair, Tara…”

Because the chair was only meant for one person to sit in it, Tara chose to sit on her lap.

“It was the chair…”

Because of the chair, Sam was able to hold her like this.

And that was just the way it was.

short but giving soft!carpenter sister vibes so it checks out

All my best! ♡ - parker

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #scream v #scream vi #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #scream fanfic #30 day writing challenge #the chair #AU: All My Heart

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shipmistress9 · 3 months

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Made to Order - 2

Chapter 2 of my fluffy Bakery AU. Enjoy. 🥰

AN: I made a detailed plan about what needed to happen in this second chapter. And after finishing off point one of four, the chapter was already twice as long as the first chapter. 😆 So I decided to split it into more chapters. Currently, the count says five chapters, but depending on how former chapter three plays out, it could still get longer.

(Previous Chapter) (AO3)

. o O o .

When noon approaches the next day, I don’t know how to feel. Which in itself is already ridiculous. She’s nothing special, just another customer. There is no reason at all to feel anything, and certainly not this weird mixture of looking forward to and at the same time dreading seeing her again.

And yet, when I hear the entrance bell ring, I suck in a sharp breath, my heart racing. “Just a minute,” I call over from where I’m busy passing raspberries through a sieve. It could be anyone, but somehow I know it’s her. It’s like something tugging at my mind, pulling me toward her.

Ridiculous!

She’s just another customer, I remind myself again. Nothing special. Grinding my teeth, I finish off this batch and place everything into the fridge for later before cleaning my hands and walking over into the front room.

Fuck, she’s even prettier than my memories made me believe.

I give myself a moment to watch her as she meanders through my shop, gazing at all the decorative cakes with those inquisitive eyes, before I make a deliberate noise to draw her attention. “Hello again,” I greet her, enjoying her little blush at the reminder of how we skipped any greetings yesterday.

“Hey,” she greets back, and her little smile is already enough to make me lose my sanity. “Thanks again. For squeezing my order in and meeting with me on such a short notice.”

I force myself to shrug and reach for my work notepad to give my hands something to do and myself the chance to regain my composure. What in Amari’s name is happening to me? “Don’t say that until you got the bill,” I joke, earning a tiny snort from her, then invite her over to the small alcove where I set up a comfortable sitting area exactly for these conversations. “But let’s get started, I have a lot to do.” It’s only half true. I do have a lot to do, but I’m also eager to talk to her. Eager to have this meeting over. I don’t even know.

“Can I get you something to drink? A coffee? Tea? Water?”

She’s not getting any special treatment here, I have to remind myself. Offering customers something to drink is just common practise. I’m not trying to impress her.

But why does it feel like I want to?

“A coffee would be wonderful,” she all but sighs. “I barely slept last night. Ah, one sugar and a drop of milk, please?”

I nod and try not to examine her too closely as I prepare her cup. She does indeed look tired, exhausted even, dark shadows under her eyes marring her beautiful face. And are her eyes bloodshot? Did she cry?

And that is none of my fucking business.

Just like it is none of my business how sweet she sounds practically moaning after her first sip of coffee.

“Okay, first things first,” I focus on getting back into professional mode as I start a new order form on my tablet. “Your name?”

“Violet Sorrengail.”

I type in her name on the attached keyboard. “All right, Ms. Sorrengail, for how many—”

“Just Violet, please. I’m sick of formalities.” She throws me a pleading smile that does weird things to my heart.

So much for my professionalism.

But at least calling her by her first name shouldn’t be a problem. Just everyday routine, whatever makes the customer more comfortable.

“Sure. Violet. And I’m Xaden, by the way.” I hold out my hand for a formal handshake. As a lark, I remind myself. Not to feel her skin.

Chuckling, she takes it. “Hello, Xaden. Nice to meet you.”

Nice indeed…

I pull my hand back quicker than I should, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and I quickly turn back to my tablet. “Okay, now that that’s settled, we should first pin down some basic information. How many people are going to be at your wedding? How big does this cake need to be?”

Violet snorts, humourless, and shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

I blink. “Pardon?”

She sighs. “‘When the Colonel’s son marries, there will be too many people for just one cake.’ And yes, that is a quote.“ She rolls her eyes. “But yeah, this cake isn’t supposed to be for every guest. There will be countless other deserts. This cake is just… just the centrepiece. Just a symbol, you know? For the show of cutting the wedding cake. So it doesn’t need to be big, just… impressive.”

I raise my eyebrows but try to hide it by making another note into the order form and mutter, “No pressure.”

“Ah, it’ll be fine. From what I see here, even the Colonel will be more than satisfied.” Another roll of her eye.

I get the distinct impression that she’s not the biggest fan of her future father-in-law.

“Well, if we’re talking about ‘impressive’ I do have ideas.” Liam will be ecstatic when he can get creative with gum paste on the clock again. That reminds me though… “There is, however, the question of the budget. How much do you want to spend on this wedding cake that is mostly for show?”

At that, Violet’s face turns into what can only be described as a devious smile. “Since ‘Daddy’ is paying for it all, Dain told me there is no budget limit. We can go completely overboard here.”

Without my help, I let out a whistle. I bet she didn’t get to mention that when she enquired at the other bakeries. But I won’t complain.

“Okay, I have an idea for this cake,” I say as I search through some files. “How about you tell me a bit about you and… what was his name? Dain? For long have you known each other? How did you meet?” Just to get a feeling for them, I remind myself.

A shadow flickers over her face, sorrow and pain, and for a heartbeat I wonder whether I got something wrong. But before I can be sure, her expression settles on a soft smile, her gaze drifting off as she dives into her memories.

“We’ve known each other since forever,” she says, quietly, the smile around her lips growing warmer. “Or that’s what it feels like, at least. We’re both from military families, you see, and since we were five and six years old, our parents were always stationed together. We moved often but no matter where we went, Dain and I always had each other. He’s my best friend, and…” She chuckles, shaking her head. “And ever since I was eight years old or so, I regularly imagined marrying him, how our wedding would be, the whole thing.”

The smile comes easy onto my lip at her words. No matter what impression I got from her, maybe she’s happy after all. “And is it everything you dreamed of now?”

At that, she snorts, more humourless. “Not exactly.” She sighs and shakes her head, her eyes fixed on her hands. On a ring that seems pretty—but to my eyes looks more like cheap costume jewellery. “He gave me this ring when he ‘proposed’ to me,” she adds as she notices me starring. “In fifth grade.” She chuckles again, though with an edge this time. “Silly, isn’t it?”

This time, my smile is more forced. “I’ve heard sillier stories,” I say truthfully. I do wonder, though. Is she only going through with this wedding because she feels indebted to a promise she made when she was ten? Because despite her story, she still doesn’t seem happy.

But, again, it’s not my business. It shouldn’t matter to me whether they’re just going through a rough patch or will be miserable for the rest of their lives. It mustn’t matter to me.

“All right, here’s a suggestion,” I say, getting back to business. “When all you need is a few pieces for the wedding couple and presumably the closest family, best man, maid of honour and such, then that’s easy to do. No issue at all. And the decoration, we can prepare in advance over the next two months. Me and my coworker,” I explain at her curiously cocking her head. “So, what we can do is make a huge cake stand of sorts, one that looks like the cake actually has many layers. Three, five, seven, you name it. They’d only be fake, only styrofoam for example, but decorated to look exactly like the cake layer at the top.”

Violet wrinkles her nose for a second but then nods. “Yeah, that sounds just perfect.”

Perfect for people who value appearance over reality, I want to add, but I bite back that comment. I really don’t want to make her feel any worse about her own wedding. Instead, I add this information to the order form as well, then move on to the next steps.

“Okay, then I have a few more questions. For once, what kind of style do you want for this cake? Romantic? Flowers? Modern? Abstract? Is there a specific theme for this wedding? Some colour palette to work with?”

I glance up at her and am surprised to see her getting ready to leave. “Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head, not looking in my direction, but she sounds tight when she answers. As if she’s fighting back tears. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just… I need to go. I’m sorry.” She hesitates, then scribbles something on a piece of paper. “This is my number. Could you send me a list of all information you still need? I’ll coordinate with Dain and then get back to you.”

“Sure, no problem,” I say slowly, confused at her sudden mood change. Within seconds, she’s at the door and out of my shop, and as I follow her with my eyes along the windows, I see her wiping her eyes with her hands. So she is crying.

A bit stunned, I clear the table, all movements mechanical as I go through our conversation and try to figure out what upset her. I’m used to customers getting emotional but this was… different. All day, I keep thinking about her, ignoring the memories of her smiles, how her lips would tilt upwards and her eyes sparkle, and instead focussing of what she said. But no matter how many times I replay our conversation in my mind, I can’t find an explanation for her behaviour. So it must have been something else.

After closing off the shop, I send her the list she asked for, including questions about allergies and intolerances, which filling they would prefer, the usual. She doesn’t reply, but I didn’t expect her to. Not when she first has to talk to her fiancé and probably other family members since I doubt they already have put much thought into this.

There’s no reply when I close the shop the following day, either, but I remind myself that’s not unusual. Organising a wedding is a lot of work and not everything can be done within a day or two.

For nearly a week, I hear nothing from Violet Sorrengail. I debate contacting her, asking whether her order still stands. Whether she’s okay. But I decide against it. Inquiring after her personal life, that would be overstepping a line.

And I’m already doing too much of that when it comes to her.

Next Chapter

#riorgail #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fanfiction #Bakery AU #Modern AU #fluff #the empyrean #rebecca yarros

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