orang3s-n-blu3s is an independent artist creating amazing designs for great products such as t-shirts, stickers, posters, and phone cases.
if you've ever wanted a y0itsbri original as a sticker, print, shirt, water bottle (you name it!) in your possession, now is your chance! (i haven't uploaded Everything i've made, so if i missed one of your favorites, lmk!)
helpful hint: in the shop, you can filter by collection or type of product!
also a reminder that my commissions are open!
(i won't be drawing nudes, and i have the right to refuse any request, etc. etc.)
(this is my first official commission board, so some desired holiday pricing examples are below)
link to my art on tumblr here and on instagram here!
5. how many houseplants do you have?
right now i only have 4. i have um, killed a few. but i think i'm getting better? hopefully? we can hope.
8. tv shows you’re currently obsessed with
the last of us! it has me by the throat with a vice grip! also i've been rewatching breaking bad with chrissy and it's reignited my love and hatred lol!
11. ever been to any pride (activities)?
i sure have! multiple times. i missed all the things last year, but i'm hoping this year will be different 🥰
i know you said you read the book, but have you watched the lovely bones movie? my roommate and i watched it last year and it was 🤯🤯 young saoirse ronan!!!!
bri!!!! oh my god believe it or not i saw it in theaters when it first came out and CRIED LIKE A FUCKING BABY. young saoirse ronan my beloved 🥺 i think i was 12 the first time i read the book and 16 when the movie came out? talk about fundamentally changing yourself as a human 😭
48. “what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?” >:)
skflfkgl not bri immediately clocking me with one of my favourites. nsfw under cut!!
"what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?" ian murmurs into mickey's ear, harsh and panting. his hands tighten over mickey's hips, holding him in place as he thrusts up into him in slow, dragging pushes. mickey groans into his palm, his own nails digging into his skin as he tries to keep quiet, acutely aware of the gallaghers still puttering around the kitchen. "hm? what would they say?"
the blanket thrown over their laps is the only thing hiding their nakedness from the other party-goers. on the outside, they look like two newlyweds basking in each other's company, mickey perched on his husband's lap in an armchair tucked into the corner, both of them too tipsy to care about keeping their hands off the other. in reality, mickey is stone-cold sober, the flush on his cheeks born from ian's steady thrusts and wandering hands, the other guests far too drunk to notice the subtle rocking and muffled moans. mickey's free hand curls into the rough fabric of the blanket, pulling it hard enough to tear as ian's hand wraps around his dick.
"king of the southside, the great mickey milkovich, panting on my dick. letting himself get fucked in public because he's hungry for my cock." ian groans, his hips snapping up hard enough that the slap of skin against skin is audible. mickey drops his hand to grab ian's wrist, digging his nails in hard enough to break the skin.
"shut- shut the fuck up."
"fucking whore for me, mick. my little bitch."
"ian," mickey groans, holding on tight as ian's thrusts quicken, his hand flying over mickey's cock. "jesus christ."
"wanna see you come, baby. wanna show everyone here you belong to me."
mickey's hand flies back to his mouth, barely catching his cry as he comes on ian's dick, ian whispering, "good boy. so fucking good," as he chases his own orgasm. "fuck, i should rip this blanket off and let everyone know how much of a slut you are. shit."
ian spills inside him, panting against mickey's neck as they come down. they have about two seconds of bliss before kev is bursting through the door with a yell of "what's up, you fucking sluts?!" and the afterglow is ruined.
send me one of these and i'll write a little drabble
brii 🥰🥰 sorry this is so late, life happened 🙄 but here you go 💙
🔫 - for a Mickey’s crime kink headcanon
What Mickey finds most attractive are the small crime-like things Ian does. Nothing major, really; dumb things like stealing the grocery store’s bags, or pocketing that stupid coin when returning their shopping cart instead of giving it back. Ian’s hot while pirating movies, video games, music—hell, even when he manages to download one of his lame eBooks.
Of course he never tells Ian this. One, it’s fucking weird that Ian not stopping at a red light almost gives him a boner; and two, well—deep down he knows Ian knows. Of course he does, with his knowing smirk. The fucker.
👀 - for a Gallavich headcanon from the POV of another character
Carl doesn’t notice it right away, but when he finally does he can’t stop picking up on it every time they do it.
Whenever the whole gang gets together for a meal or a celebration, Ian and Mickey never fail to swap food, putting some from their plate into the other’s. And the most interesting part to Carl is that they don’t even seem to acknowledge it—they look like a well oiled machine each time, like Mickey pushing his carrots into Ian’s plate, and Ian scraping the banana frosting into Mickey’s is something they do so much it’s become second nature.
Carl knows he should find it cute or romantic, but if he’s honest it’s mostly weird. Not the gestures per se, but the fact that the ones doing them are Ian and Mickey.
There was a time he saw their relationship as a fucked up hood version of Romeo and Julien (that’s a gay story too, right?); there was once so much pain mixed in with their love it seemed almost impossible for Carl to discern the two. Improbable to think of them as happy and carefree.
Instead, Fiona places Ian’s plate down first, then Mickey’s, and there they go with their weird, well rehearsed dance. Here they are making sure the other’s plate is not only full, but filled with things the other enjoys—like every single time.
And it is weird, but it leaves Carl feeling good nonetheless. This simplicity—their domesticity is something they fought tooth and nail for. So be it, Carl thinks, let them be sweet and shit. They fucking deserve it.
