#just a 5 minute sketch on my phone but i needed to get it out of my head

[disaster-bay-leaf]

- From Eden, Hozier

coloured in

[ediesguidetoeverything]

digital detox - what you can do in your free time!

stop your phone addiction!! healthy and productive things/new hobbies you should start in 2025!

read 30+ minutes every day - reading improves your vocabulary so much and is a great alternative for entertainment. make a goal for the amount of books you want to read a year. i can put a link to book some recs here !

2. work out regularly - my favorite thing is to go on runs early in the morning. this is proven to boost dopamine levels and increase productivity in other areas of your life, including work and school. if you don't like running, I suggest going to the gym and getting a feel for what suits you and your needs best! if any suggestions/workout plans are needed, i can link them here.

3. journal - this is a really good habit to build, and is something you can make a consistent routine of doing, which will improve your moods and get out the goods and bags of each day. the key to journaling is that you don't always have to be interesting, but you should always be honest, its only for you to read!

4. yoga - this can technically fall into the working out category, but i tend to do yoga less for energy and more to destress, relax my body, or set focused intentions for my day. yoga is a great thing to do in groups and can allow you to meet new people!

5. spend time with friends - the human brain needs social interaction to going moving..people love people! you can make plans to spend time with friends and family in non-screen environments, and this can seriously improve your mood!

6. make art - this can be in the form of literally anything you want, and thats the best part. if you're in high school or live near a community theater, go join! if you like to make physical art pieces, try out painting, sketching, or working with clay. you could even try writing for fun, on any topic you could think of. having a creative outlet is important for personal growth and just makes you more interesting in general. cool points!!

7. learn to cook - cooking is such a necessary skill to learn, and why not start now? finding new recipes, improving skills, and the most fun, getting to make whatever you want, are all awesome benefits to cooking for yourself. and you do not need to be a total chef the second you start, i am certainly not, but it can be loads of fun to simply prepare food for others and yourself to enjoy!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

remember that while social media is perfectly okay and normal in moderation, too much of it can lead to poor mental health, addiction, decreased productivity, and unnecessary stressors in life. you can start limiting screen time now by starting some of these hobbies or whatever you find enjoyable!!

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension, toxic relationship, arguing

I woke up feeling groggy and disoriented. My eyes flickered open, it took me a minute to realise that I wasn’t in my room. Then it hit me, I was in Matt’s bed.

My heart sank, I sat up quickly, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling a weird mix of comfort and awkwardness. Why did it feel so nice to be here?

I didn’t ponder on the thought for too long. Pushing myself up, I walked out of Matt’s bedroom. I sauntered into the living area, and there he was, sprawled on the couch, one arm resting lazily over the back of the couch, the other holding his phone. His eyes looked up as soon as he heard me approach.

“How are you feeling now?” he said, his voice low 

I stalled for a moment, still caught between the fog of sleep and the awkwardness of the situation. “Better..” I admitted.  “Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed.”

He shrugged, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips. “No problem. You needed the rest.”

The atmosphere in the room felt.. odd. Not in a bad way, just unfamiliar. Too nice. The kind of nice that would make you second guess everything. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to shake the feeling.

“I should go grab my sketch pad” I said quickly, breaking the silence. “I need to finish off some designs.”

Matt nodded, his expression unreadable as he watched me. 

I gave him a quick side smile before turning and heading up the stairs to my room. I flicked on the lights and my gaze shifted almost immediately to the corner of my room. A white AC cooler now plugged in, keeping the room at a perfect temperature. My eyes then fell to my bed. Sitting on top of the neatly made covers was an eye mask and a pair of earplugs, placed carefully as if someone had intentionally left them there.

I stood there in slight shock. “Did Matt do all this?” I muttered to myself, picking up the eye mask and turning it over in my hands.

Maybe this was Matt waving a white flag. A quiet, small gesture of goodwill to make things easier between us. Maybe it would actually be easy to live here now. It was almost like a weight lifted off my shoulders, cutting through the animosity between us. I should go thank him,

Eye mask still in hand, I turned to make my way back downstairs. But just as I reached the door, the sound of voices carried up the staircase. Chris and Nick were back from their day of meetings.

“I genuinely should be your Director forever” Chris’s voice was loud and triumphant, with a bit of arrogance. “I would make such an impact working at Space Camp!”

Nick laughed, his tone sarcastic. “You took a few photos, Chris. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

I hesitated in the doorway, before walking down the stairs, all four of us now gathered in the living area, but I felt a shift in the atmosphere again. Matt immediately returned to his usual cold demeanor. He shot me an arrogant look. "Look who's finally out of bed"

I raised an eyebrow, questioning why he’d say that, especially since he knew how I was feeling, how he went out of his way, in multiple forms to try fix it. It felt petty.

Chris tilted his head, curious. "Did you sleep all day?"

I shook my head, brushing off Matt’s comment. "No, just a nap. I had a migraine earlier" I explained. "But I’ve nearly finished my sketches for the patches." I added, eager to prove myself.

"Nice!" Chris said with an approving nod. "Can you show me them?"

Nick flopped onto the couch beside Matt, giving me a quick smile. “Of course she nearly has them done, it's like witchcraft how she gets things done so fast.”

I smiled back faintly, trying to settle into the group dynamic, though Matt’s comment still lingered in the back of my mind. It was a reminder that even with small moments of truce, things could snap back to how they were in an instant.

’Yeah let me go grab them” I agree.

Before I can leave, Chris’ phone buzzes, the vibration loud enough to catch both of our attention. The screen lights up with a name: Nate.

Chris grins, already reaching for it. “Hold that thought. Nate’s calling. I gotta answer this first.” Without waiting for a response, he picks up and disappears toward the bathroom for privacy, leaving the rest of us in the room.

I wander upstairs ti grab my sketch pad, not wanting to sit in the awkwardness with Matt. I step over the AC cooler, carefully avoiding the tangle of wires on the floor, and grab the sketch pad from my desk. My hand lingers for a moment over the cover, my mind racing with everything I still need to finish. 

By the time I make it back downstairs, Chris has come back from the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear. His energy is even higher than it was before, showing a stark contrast to the tension that’s settled between Matt and I. Again.

“So, Nate’s in.” he says, sliding his phone into his pocket. 

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Nate” Chris repeats, his grin widening. “Nick and I called him earlier and convinced him to come to Hawaii with us. He’s flying into LA tomorrow morning since there’s no other available flights, told him he could stay here while we’re in Vegas.”

“Wait, Nate’s coming here?” I ask, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. He was only someone I met briefly once, but he seemed cool.

“Yup. He’ll crash here until we’re back, then fly with us to Hawaii.” Chris explains, looking proud of himself.

Matt perks up instantly, his face lighting up with a genuine smile, which around me was a rarity. “That’s sick!” he says, leaning forward with sudden enthusiasm. “This is gonna be good.”

I can’t help but notice the shift in Matt’s tone. It’s the kind of warmth and excitement he never seems to have when he’s talking to me. Amazing, really, how he can be so happy with five people in this house but act so cold when it’s just four.

I drop into the chair across from him, clutching my sketch pad a little tighter. The contrast stings more than I want to admit, why is he like this with me? I decide to focus on Chris instead, who’s still riding the high from Nate’s call.

Chris plops back onto the couch, gesturing toward the pad in my hands. “Let me see what you’ve got.”

I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I even have the energy to go through the designs, but I set the sketch pad on the table and flip it open to the latest pages.

Chris leans forward, his expression genuinely interested as he studies the designs. “These are unbelievable” he says after a few moments, nodding in approval. “Exactly the vibe I was thinking. We’ll go over colorways tomorrow, but this is a solid start.”

“Great I was thinking adding letters into the patches too, all we need to decide on a font.” I say, but realistically my thoughts are already elsewhere. 

It’s hard not to feel like the outsider in this group sometimes, and Matt’s solely the reason. But then days like today confuse me, I catch myself thinking about the small things Matt has done, the AC, the earplugs, the eye mask, letting me sleep in his bed. Maybe I’m the problem?

I glance over at Matt, who’s back to scrolling on his phone, his expression unreadable. I sit back in my chair, flipping through the pages of my sketch pad while the idea lingers in my mind. I really should thank Matt for what he did, even if he’d probably just shrug it off or make some snide remark. Still, it feels right.

But how do I do it without the awkwardness? Without it becoming another weird, tension filled moment between us? Especially with other people around.

I pull out my phone and open the Uber app, scrolling through nearby stores. Target pops up, and I click on it, searching for something simple, like a Thank You card. I scroll past the overly formal ones and find one that feels more neutral, a plain white card with a gold "Thanks" embossed on the front.

As I add it to my cart, I pause for a moment, debating whether to leave it at that or add something else. A thank you card alone might come across as too formal, like I've not made that much of an effort. My finger hovers over the snack section before I give in and start browsing.

Matt isn’t exactly hard to read when it comes to his tastes. I’ve seen him tear through a bag of jelly worms during one of his late night streams, so I add a pack of those. Then a couple of chocolate bars for good measure. It feels like a decent enough gesture, casual, thoughtful, but not too over board.

I double check the delivery address and confirm the order. The app tells me it’ll be here within the next half hour. Perfect.

I glance across the room at Matt again. He hasn’t looked up from his phone, completely absorbed in whatever he’s scrolling through. Part of me wants to say something now, just to break the silence, but I don’t trust myself not to fumble over the words. This will be easier, quieter, but hopefully meaningful.

Chris, meanwhile, is still flipping through the sketches. “Seriously, you’re killing it with these” he says, his tone casual but genuine.

“Thanks” I reply, though my mind is still focused on the delivery.

About twenty minutes later, my phone buzzes with a notification: Your Target order has arrived. I slip out of the living area as discreetly as I can and head toward the front door.

The small brown bag is waiting at the door. I grab it quickly and head upstairs to my room, where I can put everything together without an audience.

I pull the card out first, grabbing a pen from my desk. I keep the message short:

Thanks for today, and the new bits for my room. I really appreciate it. - Y/n

It feels slightly awkward writing it, but at least it’s honest. I slip the card into its envelope and tuck it into the bag with the snacks.

Now comes the hard part. How do I get this to him without making it weird? After a moment of hesitation, I decide to leave it outside his bedroom door. He’s bound to come across it eventually, and it saves both of us the awkwardness of a face to face.

I wait until the living area clears out, Chris and Nick head to their rooms, and Matt disappears into his. Then, with the bag in hand, I quietly creep toward his door and set it down infront of the door.

Now all I can do is wait, and hope this can smooth out whatever tension is between us.

I head to my room and for once, the air feels bearable, thanks to the cooler Matt got me. I drop onto my bed, sighing into the quiet. I grab my phone, ready to set an alarm for the morning. My thumb hovers over the clock icon when a notification pops up at the top of the screen:

Thanks for ordering! How was your order? Tip Ethan.

I stare at it for a second, my stomach twisting. Ethan. God, that name. It feels like it’s haunting me, popping up when I least expect it.

I push the notification away reflexively, not clicking into the Uber app. I set my alarm and toss my phone onto the nightstand, my chest slightly aching. Why does something so small feel like a punch in the gut?

Shaking my head, I pull the blanket over me, turning onto my side. Tomorrow is a new day, I tell myself. A day to focus on work, on designs, on anything but ghosts from the past.

I close my eyes, hoping to let sleep take control.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring on the nightstand. I groan softly, but I force myself up, knowing I can’t afford to hit snooze. I stretch, pull on a hoodie, and head downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet, which I’m grateful for. Matt’s probably still asleep, and Nick doesn’t emerge before 10 if he doesn’t have to.

I make myself some scrambled eggs and toast, moving quickly around the kitchen, aware of the time. Chris and I have a meeting scheduled for 9am to finalize designs, and I’m thankful we get to do it here, at his kitchen table. 

Chris walks in just as I’m finishing my coffee. His hair is slightly messy, and he’s wearing a black hoodie and joggers, looking like he just rolled out of bed.

“Morning” he says, voice husky.

“Morning” I reply, offering a small smile.

He gets himself a soda, leans against the counter, and takes a sip. “Ready for this meeting?”

“As ready as I can be for 9am” I say, grabbing my sketch pad and laptop from the chair beside me.

We settle at the kitchen table, Chris leans back in his chair, tapping his pen against the edge of the table as we go over the color options. The table is scattered with swatches, mockups, and half drank liquids.

“So” he says, holding up a navy, white and red combo, “I think this one is clean. It’s classic, but it’s fresh.”

I nod. “Agreed. Navy, white and red always works.”

We scribble down notes on the mockup before moving to the next pairing. Chris points to a pink and red combination I’d suggested earlier. “I actually love this. It’s bold but not obnoxious.”

“Right? It’s kind of unexpected but still wearable” I reply. 

We continue debating until we settle on a full lineup: navy, white and red, pink and red, lilac and violet, and an all black option. 

“All black is always a hit” Chris says, jotting it down. “This is solid. I think we’ve got something here.”

We sit in silence for a moment, both of us looking over the finalized ideas. It feels good to have something concrete, a sense of accomplishment settling over me.

Before we knew it, everything was finalized and sent off to the manufacturer for samples. I was filled with a sense of relief and excitement.

“Alright” Chris said, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I’d better get going to the airport. Nate’s flight should be landing in an hour.”

As if timed perfect, Nick appeared at the bottom of the stairs, yawning and stretching dramatically. He leaned against the wall, still in his pajamas. “You’re heading to the airport?” he asked, his voice groggy but intrigued.

Chris nodded. “Yeah, to grab Nate.”

Nick’s eyes lit up. “Take me with you! I need breakfast. Please.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “You just woke up, and you want me to detour so you can fill your face?”

Nick clasped his hands together in mock pleading. “Yes! Please!. It’s a win win. You get company driving, and I get tater tots. Come on, you love me.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange. Chris sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “Fine. But we’re not making a whole morning out of it. Quick stop and that’s it.”

Nick grinned triumphantly and darted back upstairs, calling over his shoulder. “Give me five minutes! I’ll be ready!”

Chris glanced at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s like a child sometimes.”

I laughed. “That’s rich coming from you.”

As Chris grabbed his keys and jacket, he paused. “You good here?”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve got plenty to do” I assured him as he headed out. 

A few moments later, I heard Nick bolting back down the stairs, still pulling on his Ugg’s as he followed Chris out the door.

Now that the chaos of work had settled, I decided to take a rare moment for myself. I sank into the L shaped couch, grabbing the remote and began catching up on some shows. For once, it felt like I could truly relax.

Then all of a sudden, I hear this loud, insistent pounding at the front door, completely shattering any calm I created. I froze, unsure of what to do. I didn’t like answering the door in general. Maybe it was just a delivery? But the pounding continued, more urgent this time. Should I get it? I hesitated, glancing at the empty stairs. I mean, I did live here now, sorta. If it was something important and it was missed, it would be on me.

I hopped up from the couch, cursing under my breath about how Matt should really be the one to deal with this. Each step down the stairs felt heavier as the pounding persisted. I reached the door and swung it open.

And there he stood.

Ethan.

Of all people, Ethan.

The world around me started to spin. His face was the last thing I expected to see. He looked rougher around the edges, but unmistakably him. For a moment, neither of us spoke, just staring at each other.

“Hey” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes searching mine.

“What.. are you doing here?” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I needed to see you” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

My instinct was to shut the door, panic and adrenaline coursing through my veins. My mind spun. How did he know I was here? Then it clicked in my brain.

The Uber notification.

He was the driver.

“Wait!” Ethan yelled, shooting his hand out to block the door before it could fully close.

“Ethan, what the fuck? What the fuck are you even doing here?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw attention. 

“Just hear me out” he said, his tone becoming more insistent with every sentence.

“No. Absolutely not. You shouldn't even know where I am.”

His lips pressed together into a thin line, already getting frustrated. “It wasn’t intentional. I seen the name and recognised the address and I just couldn’t leave it so-”

“So you thought randomly showing up was a good idea?” I interrupted, my voice now raising.

Ethan sighed aggressively, leaning against the doorframe, his hand keeping the door open with his firm grip. “I didn’t come here to fight. I just.. I wanted to see you. We didn’t exactly end things on the best terms.”

I let out a pitiful laugh, trying to keep my composure. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Look” he said, his tone softening, “I know I fucked up, but I’ve been thinking about you. About us.”

I shook my head, stepping back trying to make the distance between us known. “Ethan, whatever you’re looking for, you’re not going to find it here. You’ve honestly lost it, showing up here like this. After everything you did? Trashing my apartment, stealing my things, making me homeless. You crossed every line.”

Ethan threw his hands up defensively. “I came here to talk. To explain.”

“Explain?” I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut. “Explain what? How you thought destroying my home was some way of winning me back? You’ve got to be fucking joking. I don’t want to hear it, Ethan. I just want my locket back. That’s it.”

Ethan’s expression darkened, and his voice dripped with venom. “You really are a bitch, you know that?”

His words hit me across the face, but I didn’t flinch. I’d dealt with his manipulation long enough to know how to stand my ground.

“Call me whatever you want. Just give me my locket.” I said firmly, trying to hold back tears longing for my locket.

Ethan smirked, taking a step closer. “I was going to give it to you. I really was. But not now. Not after you acting like this.”

I took a step back, my blood boiling. “Me? Acting like this? You’ve got some nerve, Ethan. Leave.”

He didn’t budge, his presence suffocating the space between us. I repeated myself, louder this time. “Go, Ethan. I’m serious. Leave. Now.”

But Ethan stayed firmly rooted in place, his defiance infuriating and almost threatening. Just as I was about to speak again, a voice came from behind me.

“She’s asked you to leave, kid.”

I turned to see Matt standing a few steps above me, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed, but his eyes told a different story.

Ethan’s face scrunched. “This isn’t your business, man.”

“It is when you’re standing at my front door,” Matt replied, his voice low and steady. “She’s told you to leave. I suggest you do before this gets embarrassing for you.”

Ethan’s stance finally cracked, and with a final glare in my direction, he muttered something under his breath before stepping back.

“This isn’t over” Ethan said, pointing at me as he turned to walk away.

“Oh, it is.” Matt laughed after him.

The door clicked shut, and for a moment, silence filled the hallway.

“You okay?” Matt asked, his face softening as he looked at me.

I nodded, though my heart was still thumping. “Yeah.. Thanks for that.”

Matt shrugged. “No problem. Guy’s a fucking loser.”

I displayed a small smile, but the feeling of the encounter lingered. Ethan may have left, but his shadow loomed, reminding me that he wasn’t out of my life just yet.

As we walked up the stairs at the front door, the sound of voices and footsteps echoed from the garage staircase. A second later, Chris, Nick, and Nate appear in the living area, their laughter bouncing off the walls.

Chris stopped mid laugh when he saw us standing there, his gaze flicking between Matt and me. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone curious.

a/n: protective matt unlocked

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[blobmanwhotries]

I wanted to reblog the og post and add the speedpaint there but ig Tumblr doesn't let you do that

It's here instead now ig, for those who want to watch (3 min.)

Notes, ramble, and fanfic updates under the cut

Video time: 3 minutes.

Total time: ~5 hours, 17 minutes.

App: IbisPaintX (ugly ass water mark in the corner).

Device/Tool: My phone and finger.

-

I like this speedpaint a lot. You can see how I improve and change things throughout the piece. I wish you could see just how much I use that undo button though - that button is my savior.

The starting sketch DOES belong to me. I want to make that abundantly clear (I use a lot of outside references sometimes). If I use an outside reference and it is in the final product (as in I use other art as reference), I will give credit if I can. The reaper picture next to it is not mine and belongs to the Subnautica devs.

-

Process (kinda):

1) Using a sketch makes this SO MUCH EASIER. It's a pain in the ass but jfc it's faster than trying to digitally sketch with your finger

2) Blah blah blah rough outline whatever

3) I swear I know how to use the paint bucket tool yall, that would've made shit so much easier, but there were gaps and i couldn't figure out where they were so my background kept turning fucking blue

4) SO PROUD OF THE BLUE TO RED FADE MARKINGS ON THE ARMS. I USED THE ERASER TOOL FOR THAT.

5) Realized the blue was too bright and i need to tone it down - tried to keep it from looking like the blue water was making him (the character) blue

6) i cant remember when the reaper reference is added it just lowkey appears

7) i wasn't trying to shade but i kinda did with the way i outlined some of his torso

8) color gradient for texture

9) scars. Tried to add more texture to the scars by adding color but i hated it.

face: his dad

(right) arm: small fish (biter? bleeder? unsure)

(right) axillary zone: prolly another reaper

(left) hip area: small fish (unsure)

front of the pelvis (kinda): scratch (prolly a claw)

(right) lower than hip zone: small fish (unsure)

10) at some point i added texture to the dorsal fin???

11) adjusting the face

12) turn off the lineart layer

13) While working on the lighting and shading (that wack white box and purple shit? yeah) I realized that I'm gonna need help figuring it out - I got on the floor behind one of the couches in my living room and tried mimicking the pose and realized that the anatomy was all fucked up and I had to fix it 💀💀💀

14) properly work on shading (kinda, still looks wack)

15) blend that shit (lowkey liked it better before) but thats fine

And there we go, you got urself a reaper Jeremy

-

I plan on working on Viktor next - might do chris first tho. I'm not sure yet. I still have other things to draw (and write, for that matter).

I'm currently working on getting a lot of my lore straightened out. I'm also trying to make character sheets for me to reference and use to write headcanon drabbles n whatnot. The world-buliding is genuinely crazy -

I mean, I made three OCs just so I could build up Chris' experience in the mafia, and that's not including Jubi. There's about 20 characters I have to write things for, and that's not taking the missing children (which is ALSO about 20) into consideration. I also have other AUs which really messes with the timeline.

All in all, I've been slowly working on more stuff to post in my oneshot book. Since I've thought about him the most, Scott's almost done. I believe Viktor will be done soon too.

-

Anywho, if you've made it to the end lf this, thanks. I like being able to post random thoughts and ideas I have, even if I know not everyone will read or engage with it.

As always, ask box is open - feel free to drop a note or smth in there. Have a fantastic day/night.

[sarahvincere]

I quite like using Tumblr because there's not a lot of people here to judge or hurt me.

I can scream into the void without fear of repercussion or someone dramatically changing my words.

well today I almost got cancelled.

but like on a niche... fanartist scale. y'all know what HSR is right? so I did a drawing on my alt on TWITTER (my first mistake) with 5 followers. FIVE! i didn't think anything would happen. then it blew up. hello?? like??

anyways since it was just a quick, warmup study to my 5 followers I didn't think anything would happen, and forgot to credit the artist who's work I studied.

and so they dmed me asking for credit and for me to change my pfp a couple days ago, but I legitimately just didn't see their dm. I didn't get a notification for the dm request or anything.

then they threatened to go public with it. but again, I just hadnt seen their dm yet. and they're a big artist, okay, and this is fucking honkai star rail you KNOW the community is toxic. and it's on twitter. so it's like twice as bad.

and I keep thinking, what if I had never accidentally clicked on the dm tab? what if I hadnt seen the message on time?

I've been having a panic attack. bad, this time. just within a month or so I started getting them almost everyday. and it was exactly when I started trying to grow my twitter.

the last time I had a panic attack before this was over 5 years ago. I was a very laid back and chill person before all this. now I'm just paranoid.

and I'm so fucking scared of getting cancelled. I'm way too fucking sensitive for this shit. I'm not cut out for fame or having any eyes on me. I'm not made for this shit. I can take hate comments or insults or criticism. I don't care about any of that.

but getting cancelled fucks up me getting into a good college! and it potentially fucks up my life!! what if I get doxxed? then it's not just me but my whole FAMILY that's in danger.

another funny story is that I'm not allowed to have any social media for that exact reason. I'm not allowed to even have a fucking phone and I'm SIXTEEN. when I was younger, this used to really tick me off. but I get it now.

if I could, I would chase my dreams of being an artist without social media. I hate how much I rely on it.

I'm so tired of the internet as a whole, really. I shouldn't be fucking scared to ruin the rest of my life just because I did a study. a 20 minute warmup sketch before I started painting.

no shade to the artist that dm'd me, I get it. it's rough out here, and you need to fight for your work to be seen and appreciated. I'm not mad or anything. I understand completely.

I'm just tired of how social media makes me feel. I don't even fucking use it other than to post once a day. even THAT drains me.

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Serendipity (CH 5)

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 2586

Warning: Mild language, fluff, smut, angst, graphic scenes, death, murder, gore, violence, mature material…

Prompt: You have a major crush on Gibbs, however you choose to push it away as you fear he doesn’t feel the same way. Suddenly there is a bunch of chances that lead to a happy ending…

I was calm now and Abby fixed my makeup for me. She had an extra shirt for me to borrow. It was a black crop top with a plunge neckline. I had more chest area than Abby so I pulled at the shirt trying to cover it some. It had some chains criss-crossing across it and there was a skull with a bow on the shirt.

"You look great! Now go kick some ass...and save that camera and sketchbook." She says.

I laugh, hugging her before taking the stairs. It goes silent in the bullpen as they look at me. I shift uncomfortably.

"I-I didn't have an extra shirt. A-Abby lent me one of hers." I mumble.

Gibbs walks to my desk, grabbing my blazer as he throws it at me. Tony catches it before it could hit me in the face like it would have. He gives me a small smile, handing it to me. I nod slightly, shrugging it on as I go to my desk.

I open my sketchbook, grabbing tissues to soak up some of the coffee. It was effortless, but it kept me distracted. I grab my camera, pulling out cleaning wipes to clean it up. I turn it on and was relieved to see that it worked. I move the pictures over to my laptop before sending them to Tim and Abby.

I open my sketchbook and work away at it in silence despite the tension I felt. I could feel his eyes on me and it made me want to shrink away and disappear.

I start pulling the sketches out, pinning them to my empty bulletin board. I study them, trying to ignore the coffee stain. I grab the sketchbook and throw it in the bin.

"Problem, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asks.

"Boss, she has to have clear paper. It bothers her if it isn't. I think the coffee is making her upset." Tim says quietly.

"Y/N/N, don't you have an extra in your drawer?" Ziva asks softly.

I hated this. I was being treated like a baby since this stupid accident. I pull the sketches down, shoving them in a drawer as I grab my keys and my phone, jogging towards the elevator.

I was in the closet art store within minutes. I stood in the sketchbook aisle for a good twenty minutes, just staring.

"Ziva said you'd be here." Gibbs mumbles, moving to stand beside me.

I continue staring at the sketchbooks. I was kind of mental over my sketchbooks. I knew I was. But, I've never experienced something this bad before. Not to mention on top of this last week.

Gibbs stands next to me silently, observing me. I tried to keep my cards close to my chest, not wanting him to figure me out. I was falling to pieces and the only person who knew was Abby.

I step forward, grabbing a pile of sketchbooks and adding them to the cart. I got three different sizes, all the same color. I got like ten of each one. Hopefully it'll be awhile until I need more. I push the cart to the pencil aisle with Gibbs silently following behind me.

"Your trying to find a sense of control." He murmurs from behind me.

I keep silent. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. Either way, I found myself angered that he was trying to profile me. I reach out, grabbing a pack of sketching pencils to read the back. It's the brand I always get, but I found peace in reading the description on the back before tossing a bunch of packs of pencils in my cart. I found myself drifting through the aisles, tossing random stuff in my cart before paying.

I get to my car, ignoring Gibbs. I drive back, aware that he was right there behind me. I grab the bags and head towards the building. I try going for the stairs, but he grabs my arm and pulls me into the elevator. I stay silent, even when he presses the emergency stop button.

"I shouldn't of snapped at you earlier." He admits.

"Rule six." I mutter.

"I didn't say I was sorry. I just admitted I was in the wrong earlier." He says, quirking a brow at me.

"Sounded like an apology." I mutter.

"Maybe it was. Look, I shouldn't of snapped. I had no right. Your right though. I was jealous. It's hard not to be jealous though. The thought of losing you...it's a hard one to grasp." He admits quietly.

"Your the one who said we can't do this and I should just lose my feelings for you. Your the one who said I should find someone else. All because of your stupid rules." I snap.

"I know...can we talk after this case is done? At my house over some steak and beer. Please." He asks.

I stare at him for a moment before nodding slowly. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea. It probably wasn't. He probably was going to explain how we couldn't be together and why. Did I want to hear anymore bullshit? No. I didn't.

The elevator doors opening snap me out of my thoughts. Gibbs walks out, stopping as he waits for me to step out. I ignore the teams concerned stares as I walk to my desk. I sit on the ground, opening the drawer as I pull the coffee-stained drawings out.

"Next time I see that asshole, I'm going to deck him." I say.

"What?" Tim asks horrified from behind me as Gibbs chuckles.

"Who is she talking about?" Ziva asks surprised.

"Where has our innocent baby Y/N gone?" Tony asks.

I wasn't one for violence. I looked at the upside of...well everything. Even if someone made me upset, I tried to keep it together. I run out of room for my sketchbooks and sigh.

I look up when Gibbs grabs a pile. I was confused as he puts a pile in his bottom desk drawer before handing a pile to Ziva, Tony and Tim.

"There. You have plenty on hand and now everyone has them on stock in case you run out." He says, patting my head since he could ruffle it since it was up.

I pull out a new sketchbook, taking the plastic off it. I grab a pencil and start sketching the crime scenes away. I didn't like to redraw. It threw me off. It didn't feel right having to do it a second time.

Nonetheless, I finish them and hang them back on the bulletin board, tossing the other ones in the trash. I study the drawings, my pen between my teeth and my notepad rested against my knee.

I start writing away, glancing up at the pictures occasionally.

"Y/N?" I hear.

I look up and see the shrink. I let a puff of air out, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Yes?" I ask.

"I don't think we are done talking. You dodged all my questions. I won't let up until I get answers." She says.

"I died. Then Gibbs brought me back. I died again on the ambulance. They brought me back. Then I was in a hospital for two days. Alone on one. Talked to the shrink there. Went home. Dreaded not being able to work a week, but now I'm here. I'm fine. Can you please leave me alone now?" I ask.

"I talked to the therapist at the hospital. Who said you also dodged their questions. You never should have been discharged until you properly answered the questions. That is why I'm not letting up." She says.

"I'm this bloody close to decking you. Your really starting to piss me off." I grumble.

Thankfully, Tim only heard me and he slowly turned to me with wide eyes. I tilt my head at him, narrowing my eyes, daring him to say something.

"She's great! She's just a little grumpy from her run in with this guy earlier. He spilt coffee on her." Tim says.

"Your intimidated by her. From what I gather, she's typically happy and bubbly. However, she seems to be quiet, distant, agitated, on edge and even a bit angry. None of you are use to this side of her." She says.

I take a deep breath in before slowly letting it out. My phone rings and I give her one final glare before answering my phone.

"Hey Abs, what's up?" I ask.

"The shrink lady is coming to talk to you! She wouldn't stop asking questions and more questions and I snapped! But I was trying to understand why she won't stop prying because she doesn't even do that on Ziva or Gibbs! So I did some digging! She's the wife of the get-away unsub who tried to kill you!" Abby exclaims.

"Thanks Abs. I'll be down here in a bit. Relay the message to Gibbs." I say.

I smile, hanging up the phone as I look at the shrink. She taps her clipboard as Gibbs' phone rings. I stand, walking towards her. I heard Gibbs set the phone down and I pull my fist back, hitting her in the nose.

She sways before falling back. I look down at her before heading back to my desk. It was quiet and I look up, smiling.

"Boss!" Tim exclaims.

"The man who tried to kill Y/N...that's his wife. She wanted to see if she remembered her husband or not." Gibbs says, shrugging.

"Did you know? Is that why you said you wanted to deck her earlier?" Tim asks.

"I didn't know then. She was making me mad. I feel better now. A lot better. I think I just needed to hit someone!" I say, smiling.

"Let's not make this our way of letting our anger out." Gibbs says, giving me a lopsided smirk and I shrug. 

"You can always come with me to the gym. They have some punching bags there." Ziva offers.

"I'll take you up on that." I say.

"There is also other ways to let your anger out, Y/N. It can be with a lover, between the sheets, hot...passionate and anger. Ah! I'll stop boss! Please don't hit me!" Tony pleads as Gibbs slowly stands.

"I don't have a lover, Tony. So a punching bag will do." I say.

"You gonna fill us in on what you know, Y/L/N?" Gibbs asks.

"On what?" I ask.

"The case of course." He says in a duh tone.

I scramble up, my cheeks flushing red as he chuckles. I grab a random clear board we keep nearby just because I do my sketches and hang them up before putting them at the front of the bullpen. I stand, staring at the board from the end of the bullpen.

"Alright, the unsub stood between two big oak trees for awhile. I'd say he's been watching out victims the past two to three days at most from the cigarettes on the ground. He had perfect view through the window and the sliding doors. Through the window, he could see the kitchen and living room. Through the sliding doors, he could see the hallway. Our unsub slips in, walks to the living room, pulls the gun out, bam. Husband is dead. The wife was the target." I say, the scene unfolding around me once again.

"How do you know that?" Tim asks.

"The husband was shot execution style. However, the wife underwent extensive pain. She was stabbed in the chest several times, each wound reaching her heart. Maybe a way of communicating his heartbreak or jealousy. Then postmortem he went to overkill by one shot to the head, bam. He took his time with the wife from the report I gathered from Ducky. She went through tremendous pain and was awake." I say.

"Why was the living room trashed then?" Tony asks.

"Well, earlier that night before the couple was murdered, the neighbors filed a noise complaint which then turned to a domestic violence call once the dispatcher gathered that there was screaming and some furniture could be heard breaking. The officers came and went, hesitant. The fight picked back up after, before the two went to separate rooms. From what I could gather, they seem to be on rocky terms. Her ring was in the sock drawer and she had the bedroom. He was sleeping in the living room." I say.

"So, what about the unsub in all of this?" Tim asks.

"I'm going to say that it's safe to assume that the wife walks to her room to take a breather, maybe go to the master bath and splash some water on her face. Then the unsub comes in from the sliding doors. The husband, our marine sergeant, wasn't paying attention. He was trying to cool down himself and get a grasp on his temper. There's a painting above the fireplace. It's of their wedding venue. He was staring at it when he heard a noise. He turns around, bam. The unsub fires of a shot before he could fight. Unsub hides around the corner as the wife comes to investigate when she hears a big thump and finds her husband dead. Then the unsub attacks her." I say.

"I like it. Now, we need to determine who our unsub is." Gibbs says.

"I've narrowed it down a bit. I found a boot print and a bunch of cigarettes between the trees. Abby is still running some tests on the cigarette buds. However, the boot print is a size thirteen marine boot. The pattern is one to the marine boots. Could be a buddy of the husbands maybe. I'm going to estimate that he's about six two with a heavy build or he's heavier set because the weight left behind on the boot print." I explain.

"Any profile?" Ziva asks.

"Again, I think it's safe to assume the wife was the target. The couple is our only murder so far and hopefully it stays that way. So, it's kind of set it in stone that the unsub is more than likely an ex-lover, the baby daddy, a jealous friend of the husbands friend who wanted the wife, or maybe this man knew something we didn't and thought he was protecting the husband. However, that's a leap as he did kill the husband. The wife was the target. She was overkill. I'd suggest that it stems from betrayal, jealously and definitely anger. With how motivated he was for the murders, I'd also like to suggest that he's going to be quite cool and laxed about this. He's probably narcissistic, has strong views on a woman's role, temper-issues and I'd say even paranoid. However, I don't have enough to build on the profile so it very well could be wrong." I say.

"What does your gut say?" Gibbs asks.

"That I'm hungry." I say and everyone chuckles, including Gibbs.

"We will go get lunch soon." He says.

"Okay. However, aside from being hungry, I feel pretty confident about the case built and the profile I presented." I say.

"Then we will go with your word." He says.

I sit, feeling relieved we were closer to the end of this case. However, it did make me nervous at the thought of the end of the case. That meant I'd have dinner with Gibbs and I was dreading it. I knew how it'd go.

[popcornforone]

The Winners Circle

A Dieter Bravo Fan Fic

This was in draft form a while, not completed. I’ve always wanted to write Dieter during award season & with Pedro being nominated so much this year it was fitting. Also a huge shout out to @salgal78 she said ahhh I have an idea for a fic for you to write or incorporate & part of it appears in this so thanks my love.

Synopsis: It’s the TV BAFTAS & both you & Dieter are up for awards. Everyone thinks you’re just friends, let’s see if you can convince everyone that’s still the case & not something more.

Word Count: 5800

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV (passionate & kinda getting near rough) sex, oral male receiving, established relationship, cream pie, swearing, alcohol, mentions of party & Dieters previous life style, previously friends to lovers, secret relationships, teasing. Public sex, bribery.

Thanks as always for the read peoples it’s really appreciated. All feedback is welcome. I hope you enjoy.

Your silver heels sit in the corner of the hotel bathroom ready to head to the BAFTA’s. Tonight you are certain will be your night. You are up technically for 5 awards.

Best comedy show

Tv moment of the year

Best comedy actor (twice for your co stars)

& best comedy actress for you

You & your long time writing parter & first love came from nothing & wrote a hit sketch comedy show which has now reached its natural conclusion. You are both finally getting recognition for this & tonight as you walk the red carpet at the Baftas you will be validated. You strap your heels on & make sure your purple dress shimmers & makes you look fantastic. You leave the bathroom of the suite & see your husband sorting out his purple tie in the mirror. His eyes catch you in the reflection, & the (for once) smart Dieter Bravo turns around. His lips part as he sees you.

“Bloody hell” he says looking you up & down. “What happened to my wife & the comfortable leggins & hoddies she wears?”

“Oooh she’s here baby, don’t worry” you walk up to him & sort out his cufflinks for him. His pocket square as well matches the material on your dress. He is also up for two BAFTAS . For best performance In an international tv show & also for tv moment of the year. His death in the crime drama he was in last year got rave reviews & became an instant meme. It’s almost as iconic as Hans Gruber falling from the nakatomi plaza. “You do need to remember though Dieter, that no one even knows we are dating & just assumes we are friends” after confessing your mutual feelings for each other a few weeks ago, you decided not to waste any time & got married 8 weeks later. Only your immediate families & 2 friends each in attendance for the most romantic evening of your lives. You are meant to actually right now be on your honeymoon, but when you both got your award nominations 3 day’s before your nuptials, you postponed it by a few days.

“I will baby, don’t worry, remember I’m good at keeping these kinda secrets” he says with a wink & gets his phone out to take a selfie of you both before you head off to the BAFTAS. separate cars are coming to get you, as you are travelling with the people from your show who are in the rest of the rooms on this floor.

“I know you are, I mean people have seen us on the red carpet together before as friends…” you look longingly into his big brown eyes & this scruffy hair which you insisted he kept for tonight. It means if you can sneak a few minutes with him & you run your hands through it, it won’t look like you have done that. You do also prefer him scruffy. “But your mine now baby”

“& so are you my wife” he kisses you.

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing that husband”

“& I’ll never stop saying it” he smiles back. Click goes his camera as you both hold each other & take a romantic selfie. For your eyes only.

*

“To the left”

“Looking fabulous”

“Smile”

“How does it feel to be the toast of the awards?”

This is the craziest red carpet you’ve ever been on. There have been some properly famous people walk this in front of you tonight. But you seem to be the person everyone wants to talk to, have a selfie with, be interviewed by. It’s suddenly dawned on you that tonight will change your life. You are being taken seriously & as you pose you get more comfortable & confident in yourself.

“Dieter” a member of the press shouts. Because you’ve been doing so much fan service, interviews & stuff with your colleagues on your show, Dieter has now caught you up on the red carpet. “Pose with her” is shouted & that’s all it takes. Dieter stops his solo geeky pose he’s famous for & because you’ve always posed at events together, it’s not weird to anyone when he pulls you in close around the waist.

“Smile baby” he says as he kisses your hand & smoulders to you & then turns to the world’s photographers.

“I always smile Dieter” you beam at the press. Your hand is squeezing his bum, the cheek nearest to you. He winks at you & leans into your ear.

“Keep doing that…” he whispers seductively “… & you’ll remember tonight for more than the accolades you receive”

“Dieter” you say loudly in shock & suddenly realise people heard you outloud. “Oooh you know how he gets” you play it off & Dieter rolls his eyes. The press know Dieter is know for his slightly risky comments, that’s why he’s celebrity gold for the tabloids. He plays up to his perceived image, but that was just for your ears.

You continue to work the red carpet & eventually make your way into the auditorium & are handed a complimentary glass of champagne & then someone comes to take Dieter to his seat. You knew you weren’t sitting together but right now you wish he was sitting next to you for today. He wasn’t given a plus one & you gave yours to another member of your cast so they could come to this as well.

“Good luck beautiful” he kisses your cheek & is walked into the theatre. It’s only when you walk in that you realise how near the front you & your show are. You also see Dieter sitting about 8 rows back talking to an usher. You sit down next to your Co writer & ex Ciaran.

“So what are you predicting?” He says.

“Two, comedy show & best actor for either you or Pete” you reply.

“Ha” his wife Jess says “you’re always so modest, we all know full well you’re gonna pick up best comedy actress. If you don’t we all boycott the BAFTAs going forward”

“Jess!” You exclaim “you can’t say that while we are actually at the BAFTAs” you tut & roll your eyes & then you & Ciaran say the exact same thing in unisons. “Wait til we’ve at least won one bloody thing” the whole group of you laugh. It’s one of the lines from the show when you talk to others about how inappropriate they are but to do it once that person has left of the thing is over. If you get no other wins tonight this has all made you have a collective laugh.

*

“To present our first award…” the host goes on, you haven’t checked the program to see what order things are in, you were going to do that during the first award, but then you stop & put the list down & applaud as the words”… Dieter Bravo” are said. The room cheers. Obviously to you & your colleagues & friends they knew he was going to be here, they know your a couple probably the only people in the room that do, but the rest of the room is really enthusiastic too. It’s always good when a big megastar turns up for uk award shows. Out he walks in his charcoal suit, pocket square & tie that highlights the outfit, & he’s got his glasses on. That’s your man right there. He’s yours & you wish he was now sitting next to you to keep you calm tonight.

“Comedy is all about timing, something that’s not my strongest attribute, just ask my friends & how I almost didn’t get to my limo in time.”

“Well we’re a shoe in…”Ciaran whispers to you.

“What?”

“The opening award is for comedy show, Dieters presenting, the world knows your friends, they are doing this for a nice little on stage reunion” Your eyes pop open.

“Ooooh fuck” your hand trembles & Ciaran grabs it like he used to when you were a couple but it doesn’t calm you as it shakes anymore. Proving you work better as writers & friends.

“Breathe, it will be okay” Jess whispers, she has known you both long enough to know that there’s nothing going on between you.

After the little highlight package Dieter announces your tv show the winner & you all cheer & slowly make your way up to the stage. You’ve already made the group decision that the two people who will do this acceptance speech will be Ciaran (because you & Ciarán both know Pete is winning comedy actor) & James the next person with the most input. They all are congratulated by Dieter as they go up to the stage & you are last, & you hug him in a friendly way. You then with the other 4 cast members step back & let James & Ciaran talk& accept the award. You slowly feel Dieters hand go around your waist. You’re still listening to what your friends have to say, but you are suddenly much calmer now that you’re next to your husband.

“Congrats baby” he whispers “my little bafta winner”

“Thanks Dieter, the night is still young.” You’re trying to be professional but the way he just poked his glasses back up his nose has got you desiring him. You then slowly leave Dieters side & quickly leap into the microphone to do one last thank you.

“I know it’s a long night so I’ll be quick but I just want to say James & Ciaran are the reason we are here winning this, because let’s be honest they make us all look funny & you were never going to thank yourselves we’re you.” The room erupts into chuckles & you all leave the stage to do a few small interviews with the press back stage, before returning to watch the awards.

*

As you predicted earlier Pete wins best comedy actor. His performance as Grumpy Grandpa is going to be remembered long after any of you are relevant anymore. It is harsh on Ciaran & his characters he created. He is the better performer but Grumpy Grandpa is marvellous, mainly because of the way you & Ciaran wrote it. You sit there as the nominees for comedy actress are read out. You hate being recognised, you’re bad at self praise, but this was always a definite nomination as you missed out on a supporting actress bafta for something else last year because it didn’t meet the bbfc guide lines for international work. This year that rules has now been changed due to people protesting towards Bafta.

“& the bafta goes to…” says Nathan who is a tv show judge & currently flavour of the month looks wise in the British press.

He says your name.

You freeze.

You thought this might happen. But that still doesn’t mean it’s a shock to the system to hear your name be read out loud. The room erupts in noise & cheers & you sit there as Ciaran hugs you.

“Oh my fucking god” the room is filled with noise & people congratulating you but it’s all silent as your head trys to process what has just happened. You have a solo bafta. The room is a blur as you make your way to the steps to go & accept the award. But as you reach the stage & Nathan comes to hug you, you just catch a sight out the corner of your eye. Dieter is wiping a tear away a few rows further back. He’s standing up & applauding like everyone else but his eyes are glazed. He’s proud. He’s proud of his wife.

You are brought to an even more surreal reality of winning by a hug from Nathan. He tall dark & handsome even more so in person, smells divine & he gives you a hug.

“Congratulations” he says his eyes dancing “finally” he says & he hands you the BAFTA. Your BAFTA. You don’t need to share this one. It’s just where you’re gonna put it. You almost drop it. It’s so heavy. It doesn’t look it but it really is a weight. You get to the podium & put it on the stand & take a deep breathe.

“Well ladies & gents,I can confirm that Nathan does smell as good as he looks” the room laughs. You’ve broken the ice at the start of your speech. You have a rough idea about who you need to thank but you’ve not written it down. You’re going to speak from the heart & then you properly begin.

“Thank you Bafta. This is incredible. As are my 4 other nominees in this category. It’s hard enough to be a woman in this world anyhow let alone showbiz, but comedy is the hardest job of all so I want to say thank you to my fellow nominees & the women who came before us for giving us this opportunity.” You point & look at the rest of the friends from the show.

“I need to thank my guys & gals from the show, mainly Ciaran for being an amazing writing partner for over a decade & to his amazing wife Jess who let him just after they got married to go spend 10 weeks in a room with his ex & trust us.”more people laugh. “I also want to thank my parents, my brother & his wife & all the friends from the beginning who let me tell them bad jokes for years you are always my inspiration & to my new friends that I have now I’m a big shot apparently” you do quotation marks as you say that. A member of the press who doesn’t write fairly about women when they are successful said that you’d soon be a big shot & it would be the end of your tv show. You’ve waited 3 years to own them back.

“I also want to thank the viewers for sharing our show over the years, you watching meant we could do wilder crazier things, so thanks for the support, but the person I really want to thank is whoever it is who’s listening me right now. Be it a girl a guy a they or an I. I never thought I’d be here, I have always been told nah not today or well try this or be this. I may have changed a little recently but I’m am most me in front of my lap top typing. I may now be a comedian & actress but I am a writer, & my dream was to be recognised for that. So whoever you are out there, keep striving for the dream, be it you want to be a doctor or you want to complete the ironing tonight you’ve got this & I believe in you.” The room applauds & you smile & then you raise your BAFTA in the air & finish your speech. “Thank you so much BAFTA & D I adore you” you make eye contact with Dieter as you say that. You always say to each other that you adore him in public instead of saying you love him & he does the same. It does mean I love you to each other though. The room gives you a standing ovation & you walk off back stage to speak to the press about your well deserved win.

*

That’s it for your shows win for the night & Dieter doesn’t win either but next comes the after party & dinner. You are nowhere near Dieter for dinner, but you can now text him & you make a point to walk past his table & he does the same to you. Dinner is finished & the party really gets going. A world famous dj is mcing & the music is banging. You’re stood there chatting to Nathan who presented your award earlier, your bafta has been taken to be engraved & will already be at your hotel room when you get there later. It’s been replaced with a glass of champagne.

“Sorry about the comment about how you smelt Nathan, but you always look phenomenal”

“I mean I do judge a beauty show, I have a reputation to live up to”

“As do I with my comedy & ad libs” you both laugh. “But you do smell good” you then smile. Nathan assumes it’s for him but it’s not. Dieter is walking your way behind Nathan with the other judge from Nathan’s Tv show.

“Ahhh Nathan I thought you should meet the rather Dashing Dieter Bravo, he’s interested in having a new suit” Violet says. Nathan turns & sees the look on Dieters face & looks him up & down every detail taken in. Nathan shakes his hand.

“I know me needing a suit? Ironic” Dieter giggles sipping his whiskey, trying to to keep smiling at you. Violet then interjects.

“& congratulations to you, lots of wins today, you created such a wonderful show… have you watched it Dieter?” He almost chokes on his whiskey. He came to set a few days before you were a couple to watch how your show is made. He knows all too well the effort you put into making it.

“Oooh yes I have, I love it, she’s very talented with her hands…” he lingers & then shouts”… at typing” he’s blushing & you just stand there smiling, knowing exactly what he meant.

“I’m sure she is” Nathan winks “Violet let’s go mingle & Dieter you can get my information & I’ll do you a suit fitting” Nathan then shakes his hand again & then hugs you goodbye “I’ll leave you & your other half alone” your face looks a bit shocked as you pull away & look at him. “His face, your eyes & the similar styles & colours on your outfit plus that new glistening ring, I’d say you want some alone time”

“Wow Nathan no one else has clocked”

“Well they are all idiots” & he leaves & Dieter smiles at you before putting his glass down & flinging his arms around you, lifting you up & spinning you around in the air. You do a small scream. People don’t take notice this is what Dieter does to all people, he’s friends with. When your back in your feet he whispers softly.

“Congratulations to my my little miss double bafta winner” he kisses your cheek & you wish you didn’t have to hide your relationship at the moment. You would love the world to know that you are Mrs Bravo.

“Thanks Dieter, sorry you didn’t win”

“Oh but I did, the world wants to speak & be with you but only I get to do that.”

*

After dancing & networking, you leave the party. Both you & Dieter are now a little bit tipsy & not drunk. A line of limos are waiting outside, so you hold his hand & March him into the back of one of them & ask the drive to go the long way to your hotel.

“Have you had an amazing night my love?” Dieter asks as he tucks your hair behind your ear that’s come down slightly & kisses your neck. Your hand goes straight to his thigh.

“Yes Dieter, one of the best nights of my life”

“Well you deserve it”

“So do youuuuhooooo oooh Dieter” his teeth graze down your neck making you shudder with excitement.”im sorry you didn’t win though”

“Oh no I won, the world wants you for 5minutes ,i have you all to myself” you plunge one of your hands into his whispy hair before he hold you in place & you make out in the back of the limo. You know from experience that these driver keep thing’s professional & don’t over step the mark. But as you stroke his length from above his trousers, you can feel his anticipation building. He’s getting hard with each touch stroke & kiss. He wants you & the way he is sighing means he might cum in his trousers soon, if you don’t help him out.

You grab the intercom & buzz it to the driver.

“Complete disgression which will come with a very generous tip?”

“Of course just let me know when your done, traffic is a nightmare tonight so it might take a…”

“Thank you” Dieter announces & slams the intercom off as he unbuckles his belt.

“Dieter?! That was rude!” You scoff at him he likes it when you a bit moody, it’s a turn on but what’s not a turn on for Dieter. “Sorry he’s drunk” you apologise & then really turn the intercom off.

“I’m not that drunk my love, I’m at the right level” he says “& I hope you give me more than the tip”. He winks & he unzips his toruses & from the inside of his boxers out flops his massive erect penis. You lick your lips in excitement. For years you had heard girls & guys talk about how good Dieters cock was for blow jobs & he’d always said they’d been alright but the first time you took his length inside your mouth he came in seconds. Maybe it was just the idea or desperation for him to claim your mouth but he always repays the favour.

“Oooh my mouth likes to go all in baby.” You kneel on the limo floor & push your hair from your face. You spit on his leaking head. It’s angry & waiting to be welcomed for relief. You look up at him & smile. “All the way?” He stares in disbelief you’ve only done that when you were both high on lsd but you enjoyed it.

“You… you…sss…. You’re sure” he man spreads fully.

“Totally ” you’ve been stroking him for the last few exchanges & know it’s time. Down you go. Not all the way starting with the tip you want to go further down with each bob. You want him to get even more lost in desire the further you go.

“Oooh yesss, oooh fuck baby yes” he loves how your small little mouth which always is so polite, accommodates him. Your tongue lapping around it, how the saliva costs him. He grips the seat in the limo looking down as you take him further inside you.

“Fuck, I have won, you’ve not sucked anyone else tonight off” one hand has moved to his thigh, stroking it. Adding extra tension to him. His hips can’t be constrained as they start to gyrate. You know this is your cue to go deeper.

When he fills your cunt with his penis you wonder how it fits. Therefore you’re always shocked that when it hits the back of your throat that you don’t run out of air. It’s always a mess when you’re finished with him, but damn he always feels so good when you give him oral.

“Oooh baby, more, more, can you go further?” You flutter your eyes at him & nod & his hands go into your hair to encourage your bobbing. “good girl, my fucking good fucking slutty wife” he moans & his hips move & his hands go into your head too. The teasing blow job is now a face fuck. & he is grinding his teeth & snarling in desire. He holds your hair keeping you in place so you don’t Bob & he fucks further down your throat. “Eye contact baby” you reconnect as you stare at your husband. “Fuck oooh fuck” each thrust harder. Your taste buds already tasting some of him. He grips your chin in place so it doesn’t budge. He’s going so hard you’re worried about the mess you will make soon.

You gagging around him. Your nose is in his pubic hair when you reach the base each time. There is no relenting. Dieter is getting everything out in this blow job & his shirt is starting to dampen from sweat from the excitement it’s building up inside him.

“Baby I’m gonna,… gonna cum… so…so…” he growls but due to the change in his rhythm you already knew this. You’d pulled back slightly. You didn’t want to choke when he came, that had happened before, it was not a nice feeling for either of you. So he’s not fully down your throat, as his hips shudder. “Fucking fuck oooh fuck” he screeches & Dieter spills into your mouth. Funky & salty, the ropes of his seed have your taste buds standing to attention. Swallowing every drop. His eyes are closed as his pleasure is complete. He leans back on the limo seat, as you slowly let his penis go & give it a few last licks before taking a napkin to wipe it clean.

“Still tastes like a winner to me baby” you eventually state, swiping your thumb to wipe up a small bit of cum on your lips before softly & seductively licking it clean. You wait til his eyes are open before you do this. He lets out a soft giggle & sigh.

“I’ve slept with countless people who have performed oral on me & yet there’s something about your reflex & the way you slurp that always turns me on more than anyone else.” He helps you back onto the seat of the limo & redresses him bottom half.

“Before or after….”

“Oooh the first time you sucked my cock I was like oooh this, this here is next level.” He smirks rubbing your hair in a hazy state. “Everyone before me must have been idiots…”

“Actually Diets…” you interrupt “you are the only man I’ve ever performed oral on”

“What!?” He’s shocked “this is a joke right” you shake your head.

“On mine & yours life…”

“Then why me… why no other guy before me”

“Because i knew you liked it, expected it & I wanted to return the favour, knowing how legendary the rumours were about your own mouth is at pleasuring cunts”

“Wow” Dieter leans in & deeply kisses you. “Well I appreciate it every time, & I will return the favour of making your clit quiver…” his hand goes under your dress & you feel his hand reach for your knickers, but the limo then stops.

“We’re here” the intercom voice announces.

“Probably best to do this in our hotel room actually, much more room” Dieter then leave a £250 in the back of the limo. “For your discression” he says & he then drag the two of you out of the limo.

*

You are woken the next morning by a knock at your door. You ignore it at first but then the phone in the room rings. You unhappily wriggle free of Dieters grip, those long muscular arms wrapped around you, not wanting to let go. Eventually you get the phone & gasp, grabbing Dieters Jacket from last night to put on & answer the door, you don’t want to answer it naked. Your face is full of joy as you sign the security forms & take the large black & gold box back into your room. Dieter has stirred at the commotion, your excitement & you slowly pulling yourself away from him.

“Babe?” He asks half asleep as you stand at the table & open the box. His eyes light up when he can see your bum cheeks popping out the bottom of his jacket. You turn your head & smile.

“Morning sexy”

“No your the sexy one in my jacket” Dieter replys with a big stretch before his hand goes under the bed sheet to try & calm his morning erection, but with the way you look that’s not going to happen, it’s just going to have to wait a few minutes.

You stand there & lift up your 2 Baftas which are now engraved with your name show & date.

“They are here,” you put one back in the box as they are both heavy & slide onto the end of the bed & do the thing you’ve always wanted to do if you ever got your hand on one, use it as a face mask. Both you & Dieter laugh at this. Dieter leans to his bedside table & takes a snap of you on his phone.

“For insta later baby”he says with a wink.

“But I’m all but naked Dieter?”

“You don’t need to hide your body beautiful” he’s taken the bafta from you to look at it but he’s clearly distracted. “What time is your tv show press shoot this afternoon?” He asks as he tussles his hair.

“4pm why?”

“Good” he kicks off the bed sheet showing he’s completely naked & aroused, & put the bafta on the bedside table. “We didn’t celebrate enough last night” he pulls you fully onto the bed so that you’re on top of him.

“Who ever said we did?” You smirk leaning your head to his for a sensual kiss. Your hands running through that crazy untamed fluffy hair.

“Oooh sweetheart” the words escape his lips as both your eyes close as the intense kiss continues. His hands go under the jacket caressing your body, making sure you’re in the right place for pleasure to begin. “My winner, my winner at everything” he slowly puts his hand on your behind & lowers you onto his meaty length, the stretch as always extraordinary. He’s so big & you gasp. He lightly pushes his hands into your bum so you start to rock down onto him, pleasure already spreading through your veins, pumping your blood. His hands after a few motions move to help you undo the few jacket buttons you have as he looks up at you as you both slide it from your body, tossing it off the bed.

“You’re so beautiful baby” he moans, his hips already at a good rhythm. He looks up at you as you ride him. Your pelvis rolling to meet his thrusts, as that special place is starting to be hit. His hands grip your hips. Finger marks will be there for a while after this is over. You trail your hand down your body, eventually stopping at your clit, stroking starts slowly but then gets more vigorous. Dieter would usually do this by he’s in a trace as you make oooh fuck noises, & your spare hand squeeze a nipple.

“Fuck Dieter oooh fuck”

“Yea baby like that, I like that, so fucking good” he pants back. “Why is your cunt so addictive?” He’s moving faster you know what he wants.

“Because your the one fucking it” you whine back your hands now on his chest, those hairs so fine but so nice to run your hands through. It gives you both goosebumps.

You then hoover over him & spread your legs a little more knowing full well what will happen when you kiss him next. He slows slightly his body knows it too.

“Fuck my pussy baby” you hold his face & lick it & he grabs your bum firmly. Your lips connect for a really exceptional kiss full of lust, tongues dancing together, faces almost melting into each other. But that’s all he needs. He thrusts, & pumps & is relentless. Hitting the spot every thrust, the motion of him pounding your cunt, has you screeching quickly.

“Oooohhhh fuck fuck fuck oooh yes yes yesssss fuck oooh fuck” are the only words you can say, as your body shakes as you approach your orgasm.

“Best cunt, my cunt” he crys as he bites your bottom lip not wanting your lips to be apart. “Fucking this tight little pussy til you can’t take me baby”

Your sweating & moaning & the blood inside you is boiling with this feverish sex you are having. You grip the pillow as he gently puts his hand around your throat.

“Dont cum yet baby” he asks but you can tell from the creaking bed & the sloppy sensation as he keeps sliding within you, that he knows you can’t hold it for too long. “Tell me baby, what are you”

“A winner”

“No”

“A slut”

“No”

“The best sex of your life”

“Erm… I was after something else”

“Your cum hungry wife” you whine & then open your eyes as his grip around your neck gets tighter.

“That’s it baby, now you can cum mrs Bravo”

“Dieter!!!!!! Ooooh fuck” you clamp the hardest you ever had, your release sends shives to all your never endings as you cum & your body stutters.

“Damn oooh fuck oooh shit ooooh fuckkkkk” Dieter follows suit, filling you up. Your walls coated in his seed a few thrusts later. Satisfying you both. Your sweat drips onto him as you lay on top of him as your softly take him out of you & you hold each other close. You can feel everything drip out of you onto him but neither of you care about the mess after that incredible spontaneous session.

“So” you eventually whisper when you can make a noise, & lift your head. “I’m the best sex of your life?” Dieter blushes.

“Well when you make me lose control, yes you are” he smirks & boops your nose.

“Hmmm it’s a shame you’re not mine…” you say with a pause waiting for a reaction, you both no that no man has got you off as many times as Dieter in the few months you’ve had sex. But he doesn’t for one instant believe you, his happy little face gives you some side eye. “Of course you’re the best sex of my life Diets & you know I am a very good wife”

“Do you think bafta would hand out an award for best sex?” he asks

“No they aren’t coming to watch us”

You say sternly, Dieters had several sex tapes leak.

“Of course not but we’d win hands down baby” he jokes & you rest your head on him again.

“Do you think that’s the only way you’d win a bafta?” You ask

“Nah I’ve got everything I could ever want to win, right here & turns out I didn’t need a prize to validate how much I’m in love with you” his kiss is soft & he rolls on top of you for a much more sensual round, before you have to come to the realisation that your world has changed so much in not just the last 24 hours but the last few weeks & months since you finally got your amazing husband.

[clowsvillesuckz]

“me and the bad bitch i pulled by being autistic”

(rambles under break!)

i really like using tumblr as a way to ramble abt my designs!! so here ^_^

i started with designing them both as a sketch on my phone

and guqqie actually had a few revisions bcs i wasn’t happy with the first version. as you can see the original is like pretty just boring and plain… I actually made aimseys first so after the first sketch i added it into illustrator and then blender to create aimsey and had completely finished and after making them i was like Hmmm i need guqqies to be more interesting too! so I used her design from the meet the artist video as a reference! I ended up with a silhouette i enjoyed way way more! (pink ver) it was a lot cleaner and just was a bit more unique!

Step 2 was vectorising in illustrator! As i mentioned i actually completely finished aimsey by the time i got to re-sketching guqqie but it was good because i was able to know what mistakes to avoid and it made the whole process so much quicker!

finally in blender i created them separately and then brought them into one combined file! Aimseys shirt was actually a fucking NIGHTMARE to make lmfao i started with doing what i know and using an image texture just a png of the stripes in illustrator but it just kept turning out… Wrong it looked bad and just didn’t fit at all! plus UV mapping was the worst thing ever bcs i had used sculpting for this so it was all very small tiny details!!! so after a bit of trial and error and some tutorials i landed on using colour ramps ! it also took a while to get the like size and rotation and all that jazz but i loved how it turned out!!! Their compensators were actually so much easier to make than i originally thought too! I watched a simple sneaker tutorial and was able to come up with everything myself following pictures online :D !! also lesbian socks Smile

Since guqqie has been talking about liking tie dye shirts a lot recently (esp the potential future merch) i wanted to incorporate it ! i watched a 5 minute tutorial and it was actually so so easy i’m so happy with how it turned out! it took a while to get the right saturation and brightness but i think it turned out nice!

[it-thing-mothy]

GREETINGS

Hello!

I realized I forgot to do this, I only posted about my commission sheet and that’s it, lol.

Don’t worry if things ever change on this post, it’ll only be things that I no longer need on here.

DNI LIST

No one under the age of 13, please, Zoosexual/zoophiles, MAPs/pedophile, Antis, Homophobes, Transphobes, Racists, Proshippers

Please follow this, it makes me uncomfortable if no one follows this. (understandable)

CAN INTERACT

Anyone who is 13 or older, Furries, Alterhumans, LGBTQ+ individuals, Artists, Writers, etc

There is more, I’m just a little brain-dead (to be fair when am I not?)

WHAT I PLAN TO POST

I plan to draw a lot of fandom art in the near future. I just need to drag myself out of the art block and get something better to draw on. Since what I’ll be doing on my phone will give me problems, [PS: already is >:(].

Anyway, other than that. I’m going to work on making a webtoon in the future. Like way in the future, might take me forever.

I already posted a post on how I’m thinking of making a COTL comic for fun. So there is my heads up for that. Be ready to see lots of posts about that soon, hopefully.

For the next, I don’t know how long, there will be lots of doodles I do when I'm bored. >:]

ABOUT ME

If no one has realized I like making my posts either funny or just silly with the way I type. It brings me joy when I do so.

I’m an artist and writer. Yes, I love to torture myself with being both a writer and an artist. What can I say? It’s fun.

I’m a digital and traditional artist. I only did traditional art until five years ago. So I’m still learning. I always like to push my comfort zone with art, so there may be weird art, and stuff when I do.

For being a writer, I write small stories and then backstories for my many OCs. There might be character sheets for them in the future. Don’t know.

FANDOMS

I am part of many fandoms. I am mostly within the COD[Mostly MW] fandom. Sooo yeah.

The other ones I’m in – Cult of the Lamb[COTL], My Little Pony[MLP], Sky: Children of the Light[Sky], Pokémon GO, and more.

Be prepared for many fanart for the fandoms. It’s the only way I can get out of my art block for only a few minutes.

MY OTHER SOCIALS

Tiktok – _i_3at_childr3n_

(We do not talk about the username)

That is what I have so far. The other socials I have, need to be set up fully. Like I said way before, my brain goes burrrrrrrr.

COMMISSION SHEET

Going to retype my commission sheet, since I need to add a few things anyway.

Commissions: Closed

Sketch

Headshot: $30

Half body: $45

Full body: $50

+$5 per character added

Full color

Full body: $60 – $150

+$10 per character added

Half body: $75

+$5 per character added

Headshot: $60

+$3 per character added

Extras

Clean outlines: $35

+$5 per character added

Cute animals: $45

+$3 per character added

[Cute animals can be anything. Like a stuffed animal or something that isn’t an animal.]

DO NOT ASK

Don’t ask for anything too nsfw. I am a minor

There should be more, just can’t think of anything, lol.

[darkmoonkestrel]

daily kestrel 10:

the spot the vet removed from Peggy a few weeks ago did contain cancer cells. she's referring us to a veterinary oncologist that she knows personally, so hopefully we'll hear more about setting up an appointment with her soon. we're trying to be hopeful about it all; Peggy is only 8 years old, and having one leg removed due to cancer in December hasn't affected her quality of life at all, so hopefully we can knock the rest of this stubborn shit out with some radiation and call it done

it's been a long day, not just because of that call at the tail end of work today. i agreed to go in early, so i got to work at 7 - lo and behold, the closing floater who usually takes my kids when I go home had a doctor's appointment this afternoon, and since I'm only working four days a week right now, I agreed to stay late too. i didn't get off until around 5:45 when the last floater got down to 8 kids in her room. i bounced around to the mobile and infant rooms for their lunch breaks today, which is always fine with me, but i'm kinda glad i'm in an older room now instead of with the littlest littles

on my lunch break i asked the d&d group if they wanted to confirm for doing my long-discussed (and little planned) oops all warforged one-off for tomorrow night and I got a resounding yes from most of the group, so i get to DM for the first time in my life tomorrow night

i called my mom on the way home from work because I needed to talk to someone about the cancer call - someone other than my director at work, who gave me a hug and told me to let them know what days I need for Peggy's appointments when I told her why I was upset. i was able to get my crying out to mom so I could put on a brave face for Paige and Peyton when I got home and not break down to them

i ditched my optional meeting for my online class tonight bc i just wasn't in the mood & instead used my time to send out character creation guidelines, set up a map on roll20, get a few enemy stat blocks, and draft the first encounter. there's still a whole bunch of variables and i'm honestly not sure where the story is going quite yet, but i've got a few different ideas so I'll see what starts to take shape tomorrow. i don't anticipate that we'll get super far, our "one shots" always turn into three or four session affairs anyway, so i think i've got enough together to go on for now. i've even tried my hand at drawing a regional map for the first time ever and i'm proud of it, even though it's only the most basic pencil sketch with a few labeled towns and a mountain range

it's almost 11 so i should go get ready for bed, there's a whole day of work tomorrow before i can even play d&d. i'm still in the office typing this on Wildberry Poptart, my phone is almost dead and i type faster on a real keyboard anyway, but inertia is a hell of a force and Peggy is standing on my lap and doing biscuits so it may be another few minutes before I actually close up for the night

[stillboredbuttrying]

I'm completely time blind and chronically late, so I feel you. Some things that help me even if they sound a bit silly:

Having multiple alarms/reminders during the day just about the time. Like, I have alarms on my phone that tell me when it's 9am, 1pm, 5pm during weekdays. I don't have to do anything in particular, it just helps me to have a better sense of time. I see that it's that time of the day and I can check if I have to do something or have been doing something for too long and so on.

Not being in charge of time management when possible. I know this is hard, but if you have someone you trust that is good with time, ask for help. For example, my sister helps me a lot of we have to go somewhere together by setting specific times for when to start to get ready and leave. Or I can just ask her how long she thinks I'll need to prepare for something, so I can set alarms and stuff. Or I can ask some friends to meet me or pick me up before an appointment so that they can help keeping me on time. Of course this is not always possible, but you'd be surprised by how much people can be willing to help.

Timing regular things with songs! This is one of my favourites and a very common technique. You can use playlists if you want to be very precise, or just average song time. Like, showering last 3 songs, so if the fourth one starts or the music stops and you are still in, you know you got distracted and it's time to get out. Your playlist is 1:30h long and last from waking up till leaving the house for work. You know that when this song is on, you should be having breakfast and so on. It works as a time reminder but it's pleasant.

Count extra time as part of the schedule. Like, your appointment is at 5pm, but you have +10min of extra time, so you need to be there at 4:50pm. If you think of extra time as being on time it won't work because you know that it's not the real time. The extra time is for emotional need. Like, you walked there so you need a moment of quite from all the chaos in the street. You need to drink your water or have a gum. You won't be able to check your phone during the appointment so you want to check before. It's going to be stressing so you need to read a little bit to relax. You want to go to the bathroom. You need a little snack. Whatever works for you. But counting extra time will give you leeway. Best case scenario, you arrive at 4:50: not only you will be on time, but you also have plenty of time for whatever your personal needs are. Most likely scenario: you will arrive between 4:50 and 5: you don't have as much you time as planned, but will still be on time for the appointment. Worst case scenario you will arrive at 5 or shortly after: on time or almost, that is still more than usual, so progress.

Have something with you at all times that can fill waiting time. I hate waiting. No one likes it, but adhd people often are even worse with it. Sometimes I am late because even if I got ready on time, I didn't leave until last minute because I wanted to avoid having to wait. Having something to fill waiting times is very helpful. Idle or puzzle games on the phone or Webtoons are good for <15min waits. Books (especially digital since it's easier to have at all times), webtoons, a sketch pad or yarn for longer times.

At the end it really depends on why you are usually late, and solving that will be the best way to solve the issue, but I hope some of my methods can help you or at least inspire you.

perhaps the most important question i’ve ever asked:

does anyone have tips for people trying to stop being chronically late to everything in the world that aren’t weirdly judgmental and aggressive or flat out lies

[antonia-gergely]

advice from writers to become a writer

translated to visual art

On his podcast, Benjamin McEvoy discusses how to start writing literature (Hardcore Literature a Episode 68) and on top of deciding to begin a daily writing practice, it has taught me a lot about my visual art practice.

Many writers recommend writing every day

Alice Munro wrote at any time she could find between housekeeping and child rearing. She collected short stories and didn't publish a collection until the age of 37. She worked steadily and quietly. Her success did not come overnight by any means.

nor does that of a great artist.

consider the importance of the work you're doing

consider it to be work

set aside space and time when you are not distracted to engage in deep work.

cal newport's book Deep Work - importance of blocks of uninterrupted time. task switching leaves attention residue. if your flow state is ruined or compromised it is much harder to get back into it.

many writers resorted to being either very early risers or very late sleepers. the world is still sleeping, you do not need to focus on anything else.

shallow work is emails, media, phone calls - unfortunately as an artist this is slightly more influential than it is for a writer. it has to be done but it can be minimised and set aside until deep work is done. neal stephenson left a notice on his website apologising for his poor correspondence - he was too busy writing to focus on shallow work.

ernest hemingway wrote while it was still cool, would finish up when the sun rose.

haruki murakami rises at 4 a.m. writing for 5-6 hours straight. then goes about his day and sleeps early.

output-focused workflow

it's good to allot a certain amount of time each day for working, but some writers prefer(red) to adhere to a certain daily quota of work. this is where i drew the most parallels with visual art.

stephen king and anthony trollop are successful examples.

trollop would put a wristwatch on the table in front of him and aim to write 250 words per 15 minutes. he worked for two hours, writing 2000 words each day. some of it wasn't great, but if you do that often enough, there has to be something good within

the same can be said for visual art. artists mention daily practice and daily sketching, but never regimentally like this. i think i'll find it much easier to stick to a schedule that's just challenging enough.

one blind drawing, one black and white detailed sketch, one coloured sketch a day (or something similar) our minds do a curious thing when faced with a simple task. we think it's too easy or small to make a difference, but the consistency of work changes your brain over time, until it becomes automatic

this free sketching coupled with more laboured painting is a sure formula to make SOMETHING decent. to be a great writer you need to be a prolific writer, and the same can be said - i believe - for artists.

writer's block

it does exist. different areas of life, anxiety, stress, doubt can all affect creative output.

ernest hemingway told people to write 'one true sentence'. once you've written that, focusing only on truth and not on the language, the structure of the sentence or anything like that, write another true sentence, and another, and so on.

this gets the mind moving and the physical flow going.

similarly for artists, yes we can get stuck. some days we want to do nothing

but we CANNOT indulge a creative block, because we are then defining ourselves by what we are not doing. aristotle said 'you are what you repeatedly do'. if you paint once a month you are not a painter.

paint an egg. paint your hand. paint the sky outside. but focus on it. really paint it. paint what is truly there.

i've made the mistake of trying to force myself out of a block, but allowing the internal narrative of frustration and futility to control the work. this leads to a piece of work that you are not satisfied with, and which enforces your belief that your work is bad, or declining, or uncreative.

its not enough to write thoughtless words, nor is it enough to paint thoughtless images. creative endeavours such as writing and painting have a massive production overlaps in this way.

serial writers often wrote on the fly. they wouldn't know where the next instalment would go. they would look at what readers expected and subvert it. creating and creating and creating.

you can write fast and write well. same with painting or drawing. large quantity doesn't have to mean low quality.

it's crucial to keep creating, but it hasn't been enough to tell myself that - achievable daily goals make the difference.

[chlerc]

times it mattered ; charles leclerc

— summary; 5 times where Charles showed you what it’s like to be on the receiving end of love with his actions and words.

pairing — charles leclerc x art-student!f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1899.

content — 5 times you realised that being in an arranged marriage with Charles Leclerc wasn’t that bad. Actions speak louder than words, but what if he has a mix of both?

NAVIGATION + author’s note: i awfully love this one because i’m soooo an acts of service girl and this is exactly what i want in life but no one gets what they want.

— I.

THE SOUND OF THE television drains out with her head in her hands, the table with an array of paint and colour pencils. The sketch, she thought wasn’t good enough, had been staring at her for the past twenty minutes. Under the sky of midnight velvet, she had been in this very exact position since the morning blues.

It was only when the sound of the door slammed shut that broke her out of her trance, she didn’t need to turn to know that it was Charles. “Hey, bella.” He greets, sitting on the couch behind her and she turns to give him a small smile. He knew that smile even though she had hardly smiled at him, the same exact smile when she can’t get a sketch right.

“I bought you these, it was on the way home.” Charles holds out the bouquet of baby breaths in front of her, scratching at his nape and a small grin on his face that displays his dimples. “Thanks, you didn’t have to though.” Her eyes creased into crescents, taking in the sight of the bouquet. “I know I don’t have to but I wanted to, let me do my thing as your husband yeah?”

Husband on paper but not really her husband though, doesn’t matter as long as things are working out and thank god it’s going well between them. It was an occasional thing where Charles would always arrive home with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, saying it’s on the way home and that it would be a waste if the florist didn’t sell them out.

The smile on her face probably said everything there was left unsaid and god it left Charles weak in his knees. “I’ll go and take a shower, long day today and I probably smell bad. The sketch is looking good, hope your projects are going well.” He ruffled her hair before jogging away into the master bedroom but the smell of his Creed perfume remains behind.

— II.

Mornings had never been her favourite thing, not when she knew lectures were awaiting her the whole day or projects piling up on her load. Golden rays of the morning sun came as invitations to the day, yet she only felt dread in leaving the duvet that kept her warm and acted as a protective layer from the world beyond.

The house is empty and quiet as always, leaving her to savour the hours of mornings in freedom and solitude, not that Charles had ever been bothersome to her morning routine. The only sign of Charles that was left behind was the scent of his Dior Sauvage cologne that she had gotten him, adding to his growing collections of perfumes.

Her door left ajar when she finally untangled herself from the comfort of her sheets, dragging herself towards the kitchen where she would always find an avocado bowl and a cup of tea ready for her. There’d always be a message on her phone accompanying Charles’ gesture although she thinks of it as bothersome for him to prepare breakfast for her if he never has some of it.

It started off as a one time thing where it subsequently happened everyday after she bought him a belt in return for his actions. Everything then just happened naturally as it became a habit for her to buy him things and he’d prepare her breakfast. She’d like to think that Charles liked her taste in whatever she bought him, perfumes, jeans and dress shirts.

That one time where she caught Charles pouring a cup of tea only and putting the kettle back in place, then she only realised he never drank tea. He’d always say “It’s okay I drink some of it too so I made more and we can share.” but he never drank some of it, all of it was for her because he had a cup of cappuccino daily.

— III.

“Bella today’s my day off, let’s go somewhere should we?” Charles pokes his head around the corner of the living room as she glances up from her sketch to catch his small grin. “I have 2 more sketches to complete but we can go. Where are we going, have you thought of it?” There had rarely been days where they ever went out together, their schedules not complying with each other.

There’s excitement in his eyes as they glint in the light, a deep happiness in the well of his dimples where she found home within, a spark that would always lead her to thrive once more. “Of course, I planned it beforehand and even if you were going to disagree, I would have come up with some other plan to drag you out.”

A giggle left her lips as Charles walked forward, hands outstretched for her to hold onto when standing up. “There’s a desk in your room, why do you always wanna make your back suffer by sitting on the floor with nothing to lean against and hunching over the coffee table.” His voice laced with concern knowing how often she had complained of a backache from the long hours sitting down.

“I just like it there, you can’t stop me because you’re not home mostly.” It wasn’t supposed to hurt but it had been like a jab towards him that made him realised his tight schedule. The least he could do to make up for the time loss was bringing her out when he was home, preparing her breakfast, tucking her into the duvets before he left or came home.

Truthfully they both knew that they never wanted to end up in an arranged marriage but what could he do except to make the most out of it? Especially when someone as gorgeous and beautiful as her, he wasn’t letting the chance slip through. “Where are we going?” She pivots on her heels to face him, her brows cocked up while looking at him. “Art Museum.”

“But you said you didn’t understand art and paintings the last time we went.” Charles only shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before walking to his bedroom. “You’re there, you can explain everything to me. My art student for a reason, aren’t you?

— IV.

Leaving everything on the coffee table was something she always did with her colour pencils, brushes and paints all over the table. Charles had been used to that though, that’s why he had always been the one cleaning after her mess. “Leave it, I'll clear it up later.” Yet she’d always return to an organised coffee table, the packed dinner he brought back or those he cooked when he was free were already on the table.

“I’m home with dinner, go wash your hands and we can eat together.” The shuffling of Charles’ footsteps can be heard from the living room while she makes her way towards the bathroom, washing her hands of different colours and doodles. The rustling of plastic bags were heard, the sound of her colour pencils being kept away.

Yet when she rounded the corner of the living room, Charles sat there with her sketchbook in hand, flipping through where his eyes were enlarged at every sketch he flipped through. “Charles, are you snooping through my sketches?” Her eyebrows cocked up with her lips slightly lifted at the ends.

“Nooo, not at all. I was just, what do you call that? Interested but openly looking, not snooping.” He shuts the sketchbook close at her voice, pushing it to the far end of the couch and raising his hands in surrender. “Leave it there, we can look through it and I’ll explain it to you later. The projects, the drawings and everything else.”

He had eyes that spoke of all things newborn in the spring, glimmering with the small hint of excitement that hid behind the windows of a soul. “Really? You’d tell me all about it? Everything in between too?” Her smile grows of its own accord and she can either let him see what he ignited or hide it, either way, he's the most fun and adorable thing in her world.

“I would if you finish your dinner first and take a shower after, then we can go through everything you said and everything in between.” The glasses that sat on the arch of his nose only worsened the palpitations within her heart, every nook and crevice filled with adoration for him. “Then what are you waiting for? Come here, have a seat and start digging in!”

— V.

Nothing on earth beats the atmosphere of a concert, aside from a race where Charles wins, nothing comes as close to this feeling. The crowd has a life of its own, the vibrant clothes shine in the track lights and the people move like enchanting shoals of fish.

Charles stood by her side, hands on the small of her back where he occasionally tugged her closer from the crowd. Being here, at The 1975 concert, with Charles was definitely not something she had expected since they ever got married. The back of her heels hurt from the bite of her shoes she had horribly chosen.

“You okay? I’ll get us out of here soon, my car’s parked far though, it might be quite a bit of a walk.” Charles peers down at her, oblivious to her pain and watches her face scrunch with her eyes wincing while nodding in response to him. “Are you sure you’re okay, are you tired?” And he only gets a meek smile in return, not quite like the same person he had been with during the concert. “Your feet hurts, don't they?”

She acts like it’s nothing she couldn’t handle, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly when they walked out of the concert venue. He stops his tracks along as she does by the bench nearby, then bending over to remove his Jordans and pushing her gently to sit on the bench. “What are you doing, Charles?”

He whistled to the song he had heard in the concert earlier instead of replying, kneeling by her to slip off her shoes and fit them in with his Jordan’s instead. He then turns around, patting his back as a signal for her to hop on. “C’mon, let’s go and it’s late.” But she only stared at him with her jaws hung open, processing what he had just done. “Hey come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

And when she finally relaxed herself onto his back and the comfort within her arms around his neck, his left hand carried her shoes whilst continuing his whistle and walking towards the car with only his socks. “Why are you doing this Charles, doesn’t your foot hurt with only the socks?”

“Doesn’t really matter as long as you’re okay, besides the walk to the car isn’t that far so I can handle it.” Her fingers meddled with the necklaces he wore, mostly from his sponsored brand. “Sleep with me tonight.” His abrupt remark had caused a gasp to leave her mouth, throwing him a soft punch on the shoulder.

“Isn’t that a little too straightforward?” Charles shook his head and chuckled, swaying her from side to side. “I meant together in my room, like moving into the master bedroom.” She only hummed in reply, teasing him with her short and unclear response which left him desperate. “Sure.”

[astroluvbug]

MEANT TO BE, rafe cameron

✶ synopsis: when rafe notices a girl at school he’s never seemed to have noticed before rafe falls for her like he never has for any girl before

✶ warnings: none!

✶ a/n: hi! this is my first fic im posting on here… i’ve had it in my drafts for a while so i decided to stop being a scaredy cat and post it, idk if im gonna do a part two tho so yeah :)

rafe sighed opening his locker placing his bag in closing the locker and leaning against it as he pulling his phone out.

"rafe!" the boy looked up from his phone to see his two best friends.

"sup man" kelce grinned doing their usual hand shake.

"hey we gotta get to class" topper spoke after he greeted rafe after doing their hand shake.

"yeah yeah we know" rafe laughed along with kelce as they started walking down the hall towards their first class of the day.

"good morning everyone hope you all enjoyed your summer" ms. smith spoke as she looked as her class full of tired students the truly did not want to be here.

"now, i know that you're all tired from summer break…” the teachers voice was quickly blocked out of rafes hearing as he pulled out his phone.

after the the classroom phone started to ring the teacher stepped out of the class as rafe placed his phone down looking up.

only to see the girl i front of him turned around towards him.

"do you have a pencil?" she asked.

rafe being rafe sat there gazing at her completely in his own world.

"hello?" a voice snapped him out of it, he blinked.

"um yeah here" he spoke his voice higher then it usually is handing her the pencil that was in his hand.

"thanks" she smiled before turning around making rafe sigh at the disappearance of her face from his vision.

"hey do you guys know who she is?"

rafe spoke from the kook boys table as they all sat in silence who rafe looked at the table outside the large window where y/n sat by herself.

"who her?" topped looked where rafe had pointed.

“i think her name is y/n” the two looked towards kelce “i’ve seen her around but she never talks to anyone, not like they’d want too”

“what do you mean?” rafe raised an eyebrow.

“she’s basically a pouge, but mr. whitemore is her grandfather do he pays for her to go here” kelce contented before drinking some water.

“so she’s a pouge living off her grandfather” topper scoffed “pathetic”

"yeah" rafe spoke out of instinct looking down at his food to pick up a fry before looking back up at her.

the cameron boy now sat in his final class of the day, art.

as much as he hated it he didn't have a choice seeing as he needed to take at least one art class to graduate next year and he wanted to just get it over with even though most of his friends were going to wait til last minute.

he usually sat in the class on his phone and paid no attention to the class but since he barely passed the tenth grade with his marks he decided on leaving his phone in his pocket, actually putting an effort into trying to listen as he walked to his class.

now sitting in the back of the class at one of the many tables, the class was waiting for the teacher to start the class.

“is this seat taken?” a voice came from beside him.

rafe looked up from his hands he’d been staring at for the last 5 minutes trying to pass time, looking up he quickly recognized who it was.

“uh yeah” rafe quickly snapped out of it and corrected embarrassed himself “i mean, no but yeah you could sit here”

you’re so stupid, rafe though about himself

“o-okay thanks” y/n smiled placing her bag on the floor beside her chair as the teacher walked into the class.

“good afternoon class, i’m sure you’re all happy the days almost over, but it isn’t yet so let’s get started”

after y/n, rafe and the class had to through their art teacher for the semester ‘ms. peonie’ and her very long speech she assigned them to do a small sketch of something they had with them on hand.

rafe first thought was to draw the disposable he had sitting in his pocket but quickly reminding himself he was in class he pulled his airpods case out instead and started to sketch them on the peace of paper that he was given.

glancing at y/n out of the corner of his eye he watched as she so gracefully drew the beaded bracelet she’d slipped of her wrist apart from the hundreds of other ones she had on.

he watched as she gently drew the bracelet so skillfully like it was a stroll down the street, while rafe’s drawing looked something along the lines of a beat up potato.

sighing he looked up at the clock the sat on top of the doorway.

seeing there was 5 minutes left before class ended, rafe placed his pencil down on the table and leaned back as he moved his gaze back towards y/n drawing again, which had almost been finished.

“that’s amazing” rafe blurted without thinking.

y/n turned her head towards rafe timidly “this?” the girl laughed at her drawing a she locked back at it.

“yeah, i mean it least it do look like mine” the cameron boy chuckled as he watched y/n look towards him.

“you have the right idea..” y/n said as she took in the drawing “you just need to actually try” she giggled looking back at rafe.

“i tried?” rafe tried to reason with y/n.

“no you didn’t” y/n playfully rolled her eyes placing her pencil down noticing the time.

“i did!” the cameron boy exclaimed lowly grinning completely forgetting about the clock he was watching a couple of minutes ago.

“you didn’t, you took 7 minutes to draw it then stared at the clock” she chuckled.

rafe bit his bottom lip and looked back up at the girl surprising himself “yeah, i uh” he stuttered for once in his life “maybe”

before y/n could reply to rafe the school bell blushed through out the school.

“well maybe next es class you could actually try” y/n giggled before grabbing her bag and taking if before rafe come say anything else.

tomorrow rafe spoke to himself grinning for the first time in a long time.

[shirozora-draws]

I posted 53 times in 2022

49 posts created (92%)

4 posts reblogged (8%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@trashquisitor-shirozora

@shirozora-writes

@shirozora-draws

I tagged 53 of my posts in 2022

#shirozora draws - 46 posts

#the mandalorian - 33 posts

#star wars - 32 posts

#din djarin - 31 posts

#luke skywalker - 28 posts

#dinluke - 28 posts

#skydalorian - 27 posts

#shirozora awkwardly responds to asks - 9 posts

#our flag means death - 9 posts

#tbobf - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#you ever love something so much you just wanna cry and scream and claw at the walls bc it's so hard to breathe?? that's me with din

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

an exercise in "thinking about vague shapes and gestures, how do i flesh that out" that took 4 days longer than i can spare. the companion sketch to the staircase AU scribble that i tinkered with almost every day since Sunday and now it's Friday and i had to tweak the layers 2 minutes ago, so.

seriously though. I really need to stop drawing and actually write like I've been meaning to since last month. get with the program, brain.

1,536 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

#4

Episode 6? What episode 6? I don't know what you're talking about. Din needed help not slicing himself open with the Darksaber and went to the one person who seemed most willing to help.

They have a cheerleader and a snack.

Okay but real talk - I sketched the idea on my phone while waiting in the ER (it was an eventful Tuesday morning - for my mom, I'm all right and so is she!) and had been turning it into a finished doodle when TBOBF ep 6 dropped. Canon can do whatever it wants because I can do whatever I want, too.

P.S. the name of this file is "broad v twunk".

1,649 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

#3

So. I said I wanted to clean up and color one of my sketches and uh. Um. Well. Remembered a post about the "leggy blond" and the whole thing got away from me.

I really need to stop listening to my brain.

Post-S1 cozy warm weekend vibes anyone? *walks into the sea*

1,756 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#2

"Din needs to do some maintenance on his midlife crisis space bugatti and just happened to be near wherever in the galaxy Luke, Grogu, and Artoo are."

As irritated as I am with how The Book of Boba Fett is being handled, I'm also vibrating with so many thoughts and ideas and cannot draw fast enough. I also have a project with a looming deadline and also, uh, an entire fic to write, if you wanna know how bad I am at self-control.

This doodle came out of some very... spicy thoughts about the Naboo starfighter and negotiating tight spaces. I'm just horribly weak for sleek starships (looking at you, USS Enterprise).

2,359 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

16,159 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[xxlost-cityxx]

ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

Ship/Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki

TW/CW: Rough anal sex, virgin Katsuki Bakugou, slight choking, slight piss kink/bladder control, brief spanking, rimming, bottom Katsuki, dom Kirishima, begging, crying, anal fingering, degredation and praise

I posted this on Ao3 literally last night, so enjoy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stupid fucking Kirishima with his stupid fucking face and stupid fucking body-

Again. Once-a-fucking-gain. Katsuki was hard at work. Kirishima had simply aided Katsuki in a surprisingly powerful villain attack- even though everyone knew Dynamight had it under control. But Eijirou's help...made it easier to take down the villain- NOT that Katsuki needed his help in the first place. 

The villain landed a hit on Katsuki and he flew into a pile of concrete and wooden rubble, and the next thing he saw was Red Riot, unhardened, nearly body slamming the guy into a wall, digging his forearm and elbow into his neck and his knee between his legs. It looked painful for the villain and it looked like Ejirou was definitely holding back from completely crushing the dude's balls...But. The way Kirishima was looking at the guy, a stone cold face, a deadly glare he hasn't seen since the last time Eijirou had heard Monama talk back in U.A. He was mad. And Gods if that sight didn't make him pop a boner-

So now here he was. Virgin Katsuki pretending he was too good to be around all his druken friends who were surely getting laid tonight, meanwhile, all Katuski would do tonight is ride his dildo until the sun came up. 

Bakugou couldn't jack off. It wasn't really a fact, but he's pretty sure that any man would avoid jacking off with even a small risk that you might blow your own dick off, especially if you were gay. Gods bless the prostate. And really, it takes forever to cum riding 6 inches of colored silicone without touching your dick, but the point was, it got the job done and no one knew his secret to having 'thunder thighs' or some shit. He still remembers the first interveiwer who asked about his leg day routine, stating that he had entranced everyone with his thighs or some shit. He never thought he'd be referred to as 'thick' or whatever it was.

He took another shot of vodka, ignoring the pestering jealousy as he watched Kirishima dance with Denki. It was obviously platonic, not only did they repeatedly state in multible interviews that they were 'strictly bromance' and that they liked fucking with their fans's minds, Denki was dating Dead Eyes and Earphones. 

Bakugou wasn't even a little tipsy really, it took a lot to get him drunk. It took a lot to get any of them drunk, but that didn't stop anyone from trying. But Bakugou wasn't going to go home drunk and have drunken masturbation for 5 hours, never was his thing. So he'd stick to being sober for tonight. 

He growled as Kirishima's hand was on Denki's hip, Kaminari's back against Eijirou's chest. The much smaller blonde wiggled his hips against Kirishima's surely soft dick. Sero and Mina were laughing their asses off from their seats, Denki smirking and trying to be as dramatic and intimate as he could, a few phones recording them. 

Katsuki growled to himself, slamming the shot glass on the bar top so hard it slightly cracked. He stood up and grabbed his coat, oblivious to how red eyes quickly switched from watching the smiling and laughing faces of his friends to laser focused on the ash blonde in a split second. 

As Katsuki left the bar, he grumbled to himself until he was outside his place. 

An hour later, he was panting. It felt like his entire body was covered in lube by the time he was bouncing on the silicone properly. He frowned, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the head bump into his prostate with practiced movements, usually a feeling that would have him gasping and shuttering, but he wanted this cock to be Kirishima's. He was sick and tired of riding an inanimate object that didn't praise him, didn't make noise, didn't cum. He wanted to be pinned and fucked so hard he would have to call off work the next day.

He whimpered as his toned thighs easily let him travel up and down the silicone. Silicone. He couldn't even get himself hard, he was soft, even with his ass stuffed and his prostate stimulated, he was soft. There wasn't a twitch, and even his prostate felt dull. 

He groaned to himself, sliding off the dildo and reaching for his phone. He quickly unlocked it and pulled up his gallery with his singular 'clean' finger, quickly going to his hidden folder and clicking on the picture that always got him hard. Kirishima did a photoshoot nearly 6 months ago, he was in a kimono that was completely opened with white pants that banded to his stomach. He stared at Katsuki through the picture, a belt in his big, tanned hand. He already felt his cock harden slightly, a small frown painting his face as that was like a weak attempt at mimicking his usual reaction to the picture. 

He slid back on the dildo propping his phone against his wall and started bouncing. He imagined those toned hands sliding against his back, barely touching him, and it was almost like he could feel it, his body twitching with slight interest. He imagined his voice, telling him to ride the dildo, training his hole for what was surely a monster cock, Eijirou too nice to let Katsuki destroy himself on his cock right off the bat...unless… What if he would just fuck him? And that got his reaction. His dick was fully hard now, but it wasn't aching with need like usual. 

What if Eijirou would slam into him as soon as the dildo was out? Would he let Katsuki adjust, or would he pound him into oblivion with the raw power his body held? 

He let out a moan, but the pleasure didn't last long as his phone started ringing. He nearly flinched, scowling at his phone for ruining what he worked hard for, but his face sofened as it was Kirishima calling him. 

His mouth went dry, his eyes slightly wide. He doesn't know what really compelled him to answer the phone, but as Kirishima's voice rang through the other end, he couldn't help but bite his lip and shift on the dildo. "W-What do you need, Dumbass?" He asked, cursing himself for starting his sentence off weak. "Haha- Hey, Kat! I just wanted to made sure you were okay. You hit that rubble pretty hard today, and you left earlier than usual." His cheery, sober, voice said. Katsuki closed his eyes, slowly rolling his hips up the dildo, the familiar arousal burning in his stomach, finally. 

He stifled a whimper, "M' fine, Shitty Hair…." He pretended to grumble out, desperate to think of something to keep him on the line as long as possible. "That's great! I was a little worried, y'know. Didn't want to lose the manliest man I've even known since highschool!" He said, and Bakugou's heart did a mixture of dropping and fluttering. He felt guilty for trying to get off to his voice, clearly ignorant and innocent, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that he didn't refer to him as his best friend which would usually put him down. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his hips, gasping as he accidentally his his prostate. He dropping the phone, slapping a hand over his face. "Katsuki!? What was that?" Kirishima urgently called. Bakugou's dick was on fire, his body was alight with arousal, if only Kirishima knew. 

He hesitantly picked up the phone. "I'm f-fine~ Shitty Hair!" He replied, cursing himself for not stopping himself from slowly bouncing on the dildo again. 

Silence. 

He slightly wondered if he accidentally hung up, but there was still static. "I'm not stupid, Katsuki." Kirishima suddenly said. Bakugou froze. His voice was lower but soft, almost like he was hesitant to say it in the first place. "W-..What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, not daring to move on the dildo, even though he wanted to take advantage of Kirishima's tone so fucking bad. 

"Are you getting off right now?" Kirishima asked, Bakugou suddenly became aware of how slick and schelchy the lube was. Bakugou's throat closed up, his mouth too dry to produce words. "Fuck…" Kirishima whispered, the sound making Bakugou's eyes widen. "Are you trying to fuck with me…?" He asked, but Bakugou wasn't deaf to the distant sound of Kirishima nearly break checking himself. 

Bakugou whimpered quietly, but a part of him prayed that Kirishima heard him, and as his breath hitched over the phone, he knew he did. 

"Fuck-" Kirishima groaned. Bakugou gasped at the sound, bouncing on the plastic lightly once again, the lewd noises surely reaching the phone. "C-Come over." Bakugou's stern voice said, once again sounding weak in the beginning. "Already on my way." Kirishima nearly whispered back. 

Bakugou's body was on fire, every part of him was twitching. The call ended only a minute ago, and suddenly Bakugou's night was going to change who he was. He was hard, nervous, excited but horny above all else. As soon as he heard his front door open and nearly slam shut, Bakugou gasped, trying to let out his nerves. Heavy, fast footsteps made their way down his halls, and suddenly Bakugou was conscious about how he should present himself. 

He didn't have time, and so he let himself be cocky, leaning forward on his hands, arching his back and rolling his hips on the silicone gracefully, and it probably looked a little too good based on how smooth the action felt. But he didn't have room for his usual pride, Kirishima was stuck in the doorway with his mouth slightly open and wide eyes. Bakugou looked at him in the mirror to his side, and his eyes were staring at him. 

"Holy fuck.." He groaned, his hand slowly moving to his crotch, but he gripped the inside of his thigh. Mid. Thigh. 

Bakugou's eyes widened as he finally had the rough sketch of Eijirou's cock in his mind, and fuck he wanted to go stupid with cock. 

"C'mon…" Bakugou nearly whimpered, rolling his hips a little more dramatically. Kirishima groaned in the doorway, slowly walking into the room, Bakugou's position giving him the perfect view of his pink, glistening and stretched hole swallowing the silicone easily, the dildo's girth seemed pathetic to what Eijirou knew he had. 

Eijirou knelt down behind him, and as Katsuki smiled, expecting him to caress his body, that didn't happen. 

Kirishima quickly wrapped his hand around the smaller man's throat, yanking him back to meet his still clothed chest. Bakugou wheezed at the unexpected and sudden movement, but fuck if his own cock didn't love it already. 

"Riding this pathetic dildo while I was out there concerned about you, hm?" He darkly whispered, his finger tips lightly digging into his neck. Bakugou whimpered, wiggling his hips back, trying to get a feel for the man's clothed cock for himself. Kirishima sighed, almost in disappointment. "Tell me.. What were you thinking about? Riding this pathetic excuse of a dildo." He asked, talking right into Bakugou's ear. Bakugou let out a stuttering breath, squirming in Kirishima's sturdy grip. 

"Tell me." 

Bakugou gasped at his dark tone paired with his hand gripping his entire neck roughly. He wasn't used to feeling so small compared to someone else, but fuck he was loving it. 

"Y-You…" Bakugou gasped out as Kirishima loosened his grip just enough. "What about me..?" He asked, only slightly softer. 

Katsuki's cock was aching, begging for the same attention Eijirou was giving his throat. "H-How hard you would fuck me- How big your cock is…" Bakugou finally admitted, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Kirishima hummed in his ear, his hand moving to the back of Bakugou's neck instead and pulling him up to his feet. Bakugou let out a guttural moan as he was ripped off the dildo still suctioned to the floor. 

Kirishima hummed, noting how the dildo really did look like a pathetic version of himself. 

Kirishima dragged Bakugou to his bed, glaring at the blonde when he tried to move. He pulled off his own shirt and pants quickly before joining him on the bed. Bakugou's eyes quickly widened at the sight, his mouth slightly open and his face slightly filled with fear and shock, but quickly replaced with determination. "Better fucking prep me, asshole." Bakugou spit out, laying on his back. 

He didn't expect Kirishima's rough nature to continue though. Eijirou glared at Bakugou before swiftly gripping his neck and pinning him further into the mattress. "Excuse you? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to right now? Order me around again, I fucking dare you." Kirishima spit out a look of fake disgust on his face. Bakugou was shocked by the moan that left him, more than happy with his decisions from tonight, at least so far. 

He yelped as Kirishima's hand left his neck and grabbed his hips instead. Kirishima pulled his ass into the air, Bakugou's legs spreading automatically, falling to almost meet his chest. "W-What are you gonna do?" Bakugou asked, eyes wide with arousal. "None of your fucking buisness." Kirishima spit out, digging his thumbs into the stretched pink muscle. Bakugou gasped as Eijirou pulled his rim apart, testing just how stretched he was. 

Bakugou saw his cock when he took off his pants, the way it weighed itself down, how his fingertips would definetly have trouble touching each other, and the fucking length- he wondered if Kirishima would actually show through his stomach…

As Kirishima added a finger to stretch and play with his rim, he decided to take down the roughness, only for a couple seconds though. "Use the traffic light system, okay?" He almost ordered, wanting to keep the same sexual energy but also let Bakugou know there was a safe way out. Bakugou's breath stuttered and he quickly nodded, having read enough fanfiction about being fucked by Kirishima and having done enough research to know something as simple as the traffic light system, and he's so fucking green.

Bakugou didn't expect a tongue to enter him though.

Bakugou nearly shouted, gripping at the sheets before pathetically trying to reach for the other man's head. "N-No!" Bakugou shouted, but it was moan filled and an empty request. Kirishima's eyes shifted to Bakugou, lapping his tongue over the blonde's rim before softly shoving it inside as far as he could. 

Bakugou was squirming around at the foregin feeling, gasping every time he moved his tongue, it felt so warm, soft and perfectly wet. 

Kirishima took his mouth away, licking his lips as he roughly slammed 3 fingers into the unsuspecting hole. He quickly spread them as far as he could, Bakugou's gasp turning into a pained moan. As Kirishima softly stroked his slightly pulsing insides, Bakugou was panting with wide eyes. "Beg." Kirishima ordered darkly, jamming his fingers into Bakugou as far as he could, hitting his prostate hard. 

Bakugou moaned out, caving in on himself because of how Kirishima held his ass up. But he wouldn't beg. 

After a few seconds of soft finger thrusting and no begging, Kirishima picked up the pace, slipping one of his fingers out, knowing Katsuki won't like the lack of fullness anymore. He jams his fingers into his prostate every time, Bakugou's eyes nearly crossing as he tries to arch his back but just keeps caving in on himself. 

"Fucking. Beg." "F-Fuck you.." Bakugou responds, his voice shakey, the defiance fake and fragile. Kirishima's eyes narrow, a frown forming on his lips. "Fine." He replies, shifting one hand to Bakugou's abdomen and pressing, pleased with the slight fullness under a specific layer of muscle. He continued to slam into his g-spot, Bakugou's eyes widening and getting slightly watery. "W-Wait-!" Bakugou moaned out loud, slight panic coating his oh so beautiful face. The tip of his penis kept rubbing against Kirishima's arm, and he knew so much stimulation was working against him. He was either going to beg or piss himself. 

"S-Stop! Too much- T-Too fucking much! I have to go you f-fuckkk-ing lunatic!" He moaned out, grabbing at Kirishima's arms. "Beg. Beg for me to fuck you, or you're going to piss yourself, get your clean sheets dirty, all unsatisfied and embarrassed. Poor little Katsuki couldn't hold his little blatter while I fucked you with my fingers." Eijirou cooed, tiliting his head a little before bending down and licking along the back of his thigh to the crease of his ass. He travels up to his sack and licks him firmly with the flat of his tongue. 

Katsuki screams.

His clawing becomes frantic, and he's sure he's sobbing, but he's no match for even Kirishima's strength. "N-No! Ei- Stop! I-I'm gonna pee!" Katsuki cries, thrashing around as much as he can. But as Eijirou gently sucks in one of his balls, his resolve snaps. "Please! Please, please, please!" Katsuki finally cries, Eijirou's fingers slowing down and his hand letting up on his blatter. He moves away from Katsuki's cock and smirks down at the red and teary face below him. 

"Please what?" He asks, Bakugou's eyes widening. "P...Please… Please fuck me… I want you to fuck me with your fat cock!" He cries, tears falling from his eyes. 

Eijirou sighs, content with his work. "Good boy~" He coos, swiftly plunging 2 more fingers inside and spreading them. Katsuki gasps, looking up at Kirishima who refuses to look away from his face. 

As Kirishima slowly pulls out, he bends over and grabs the lube from the floor, popping open the cap and pouring it into Katsuki. He flinches and wines at how cold it is, and Eijirou just travels the bottle to his cock, rubbing his hand over it and coating everything with lube. 

As he sloppily closes the bottle, he moves Katsuki onto his stomach, Bakugou groaning as he was finally out of that horrid position. 

Kirishima places the tip at his entrance, kissing Bakugou's nape, and right as Bakugou prepares for a dreadfully slow slide. Kirishima slams into the hilt. Bakugou's eyes shoot wide and his thrusted up further into the bed with the force, his mouth dropping open as a horrid moan filled scream leaves him. 

This is it….he's not a virgin anymore…

He feels nothing but cock, painfully perfect cock that makes it hard to breathe.

Kirishima groans at the tight feeling, his body shaking as he convinces himself not to fuck Katsuki into oblivion. 

Eijirou starts off slow, dragging his cock out halfway before pressing in again, the pace making them both groan. God, Katsuki's back tooks so fucking pretty all arched like that, delicate but strong all in one. He always knew Bakugou would look so pretty with his face burried in sheets, his ass high in the air and filled with his cock. 

He feels himself slipping, his thrusts slipping into violent, angry lust every so often before he catches himself quickly. 

But as Katsuki's sweet moans keep reaching his ears, he finally gives in, grabbing Katsuki's wrists and pulling them back, lifting Katsuki off the bed and using his wrists as leverage, pulling his weak body back onto his cock as he slams his hips into the man's ass. 

"Holy fucking shit~" Bakugou's voice calls out as Kirishima's thrusts get rougher, violent. His voice bounced with the thrusts, his moans cutting each other off as Kirishima no longer cares about hitting the man's prostate, pounding into him purely for selfish pleasure Bakugou didn't know he was capable of. 

"Fucking pathetic cocksleeve- Such a fucking whore for dick, huh? You fucking-love! -taking my fat cock like this!" Kirishima spits out, pulling on Katsuki's wrists harder. Bakugou's eyes are crossing, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

'Ruining me-'

"Not a single thought going through that head of yours, huh? Just taking my cock so good like this, loving how I ruin every other cock out there for you! Only my cock can make you cum, can make you feel so fucking good!" "Y-Yes~" Bakugou's broken voice cries out, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

The bed is slamming into the wall so hard the pictures are rattling, and Bakugou can't register anything but cock, pleasure, Kirishima and cumming. 

"So fucking good, so~ fUCKing go-od~" Bakugou sobs, not caring of the searing pain in his arms and shoulder blades. But as Kirishima angles his hips, he starts slamming into Bakugou's prostate, and as Bakugou tries to arch in Kirishima's hold, he cums. He clamps around his cock so hard Kirishima moans, letting go of Katsuki's arms and letting him fall face first into the bed as his entire body rocks with unbroken thrusts, shaking with the ongoing orgasm that never seems to end. Eijirou hears the sobbing and groans with pleasure, swinging his hand down to Bakugou's ass, growling as he watches the muscle and fat ripple with the perfect impact. 

Kirishima puts his hands in the curve of Katsuki's spine, pressing him down and shifting forward, slightly sitting back on his calves as he jackhammers into Bakugou's swollen, red and oh so fucking soft boy cunt. 

Katsuki is screaming but it's so distant to Eijirou, all he can hear is the squelching of his ass and all he can think of is cumming. 

"FUCK- EIJIROU~" Katsuki screams, sobbing and begging for him to slow down, not to thrust so hard, not to be so brutal. He can't feel his limbs, all he can feel is the overstimulation as his body is pounded so hard he inches forward on his bed, only to be pulled back just as quickly. He feels like a cocksleeve because he is one. 

Kirishima groans, finally slamming into Katsuki with all he has, his cock pulsing inside Bakugou almost like a slow vibrator. As Kirishima completely fills Katsuki's intestines with cum, his own cock spurts out a pathetic amount of it's own cum, his balls drawing up tight and his cock twitching with painful interest. 

Kirishima and Bakugou are panting, and as Eijirou gives another overstimulated thrust for good measure, the both moan out. 

"F-Fuck…." Kirishima groans, Katsuki panting into the sheets with wide, tired eyes. 

He really did ruin Katsuki's chances at fucking anyone else. There's no way he can go back to toys, and there's no way he can fuck anyone else.