#gonna rest in between commissions to indulge back in my own stuff but i got 1-2(?) more orders to go

[fyllophobia]

commission of artemis in her hades 2 look!

[nananarc]

Gonna disclose my income as a freelance artist because I feel like it might give some perspective. And mostly bc I'm feeling a bit burnout and I want pity points ok? Lol.

Context 1: For sake of simplicity, all figures are net income (minused all fees, charges, insurance, benefits, etc)

Context 2: I live in a big city in Việt Nam and the cost of living is relatively low. A salary of 1000$/month is considered really good for someone living alone with one pet, no family or children, no debt or other liabilities. Entry level jobs usually start at around 200-300$/month.

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Let's start in 2021 because that's when it can be considered when I started doing art professionally.

In 2021 and 2022, I was juggling between art school, a part-time online side gig, building social media for my art, and of course try to get commissions. But coms were few and far between, mainly because I didn't have an online present before and I only hang in relatively small fandoms. So all I earn through side gig and art were only some change, in total avarage to about 40$/ month. Some months made up for no income months.

In 2023, things starts to be a bit better as I get more confident in my skill, but coms are still few and far between and months with no income is still common. Side gig was few and far between too and pay less. Overall I'd say it goes up to about 80$/month.

This year 2024, art school is done, I can finally do art full time. But I was severely burnout because all the accumulated stress since waaaaay before catch up with me and i couldn't cope anymore. I have to spend a lot of time resting instead. Fortunately, I received a decent amount of coms each month, and the new patreon surprisingly got a few supporters (I fully realistically expected it to sit at 0 for at least a year). Overall, I have an 8 hours 4 days work week: 4 hours a day on com and managing social media and other stuff that actually makes money; 4 hours a day on my own projects and personal indulgence that doesn't directly make money. As of now, my income is about 180$/month.

.

You are probably wondering how the fuck do one live like this in this economy.

It's because my family is middle class and can afford a freeloader like me in their house, receive their pocket money and tuition fee. I'm privileged.

But of course my family isn't rich and if just one catastrophic event happens to us, we'd be in bad shit. I'm constantly in anxiety of money, work, and the future. It doesn't help that I'm late 20s and many people around keep reminding of how I'm not making money yet still leeching off parents. It doesn't help that, for years all i hear about art is it will just lead to failure and no money.

.

But still, I am thankful of my family for letting me stay here. And all my friends and supporters for giving me money oc lol, but more importantly, believing in me more than I ever do in myself. I read all of your little tags, your keysmash and compliments, and I keep them all dear to my heart, and I went back to them everytime I need motivation. I can't see where my future as an artist will be, but I cling to your support and love as the will to keep going. Thank you all so, so fucking much. I'd have been literally dead in a ditch somewhere without you guys.

Anyway, idk, I've always been adamant about wage transparency (especially in a corporate setting) but I rarely see this in freelance artists. except to flex, to promote the hustle culture, or to sell some courses they made. Most of us don't want/can't subscribe to the grind and have nothing to flex either. All we have is this shit economy. I'd wish we could have been more open about this and many of us wouldn't have to feel so lonely and despair all the time.

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 19: Hands Off

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18

Word count: 2587

TW for self harm

"So you're tellin' me absolutely nothin' is goin' on between you two?" Between sessions, Harley had come to visit Elianna in her office for a chat. "Aren't you still staying at his place?" It seemed that the blonde still had yet to give up on the idea of El and Jonathan together; the only difference now was that she had ended up being right (a fact that the redhead had made sure to remind him of as they laid in bed catching their breath the day before. He hadn't found it quite as funny as she did).

"Yeah—wait, how did you know that?"

"I was pullin' into the parking lot behind you guys this mornin'."

"Uh-huh, we drove separately, stalker." El quirked an eyebrow with an expectant smile.

"Right, so you just happened to arrive at the same time? Just 'cause you didn't take the same car doesn't you're not comin' from the same place."

"Alright, alright," El laughed. "He's got some errands to run after work, so I promised to make dinner."

"Aww," Harley exaggerated the syllable, knowing it would get under her friend's skin.

"Oh, cut it out." El rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I already told you, nothing is going on." The blonde just laughed in response. "Hey, how's your big case coming along?"

As Harley enthusiastically began to tell whatever she could about her sessions with the self-named Poison Ivy, El used the distraction as an opportunity to recall the day before smugly to herself.

Already, the recent change in their relationships had its ups and downs. On the one hand, it almost seemed like a dam had burst; their dynamic flowed more smoothly, and for her part, she felt as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders. On the other, when he had told her that morning that he had to oversee the handling of that night's delivery personally (since Batman had effectively put Falcone out of commission), her usual worry for his safety had doubled.

Something that Elianna and Jonathan had in common was a lack of experience with real relationships. As such, they shared a sense of profound importance in regards to the new arrangement. It would take some work to balance the now heightened concern they held for each other.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was in his office trying in vain to occupy his mind by shuffling through the stack of administrative paperwork that the warden's office couldn't be bothered to sort through before sending it to him. Between the unexpected hitch in the master plan and trying as hard as he could to not think about El (on that count, Scarecrow was actively working against), he was struggling to make it through even the very basics of his job.

At that moment, for example, he was grappling with his schedule for the day. Falcone had been taken to Blackgate and apparently had been asking to see him for a few days. Jonathan had been putting off visiting the mobster since he had found out; he had been caught by a civilian in a cape and a mask; what could he possibly have to discuss with such a disappointment to the underworld? Today, however, he had received word that the older man had cut his wrists, and the administration at Blackgate had sent for him specifically.

As if that weren't enough, he had already had to clear his schedule for that night to oversee the shipment, given that Falcone was now indisposed.

There was no getting around it, though, he supposed, and found himself back in the car en route to Blackgate. However, the drive wasn't nearly long enough for Jonathan to quell his frustration in Falcone's incompetence, and before too long was meeting with the mobster's caseworker.

"Doctor Crane, thanks for coming." There was a thinly disguised urgency in her voice as she greeted him.

"Not at all," he replied, barely remembering to keep his tone patient. "He cut his wrists?" How irritating it was to fake concern.

"Probably looking for the insanity plea," well, at least the woman was pragmatic, "but if anything should happen..."

"Of course, better safe than sorry." He nodded as they approached the door to the private room that Falcone had been brought to. With that, the caseworker unlocked the door to let Jonathan in and let the door swing closed behind him.

Falcone didn't skip a beat. "Hey, Doctor Crane, I can't take it anymore. It's all too much; the walls are closing in, blah blah blah," the old man rambled dryly. "Couple more days of this food, it'll be true." Jonathan found himself steeling himself against the urge to let Scarecrow come out as he settled into his chair.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know how you're gonna convince me to keep my mouth shut." The ego of a powerful man is truly something indigestible, isn't it?

"About what? You don't know anything about the operation."

"Maybe not specifics, sure, but I know you don't want the cops to take a closer look at the drugs they seized. I know about your experiments with the inmates of your nuthouse." Jonathan listened and watched as patiently as he could as the tiresome man continued to talk. "See, I don't go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets." At this point, Scarecrow was banging against the proverbial walls of their brain, desperate to retaliate. "Those goons you used. I own the muscle in this town. Now I've been bringing your stuff in for months. So whatever he's planning, it's big. And I want in."

Can you believe the balls on this guy? Let me out, Jonny.

Not yet; he still doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"Well, I already know what he'll say. That we should kill you." Just because we haven't yet doesn't mean that we won't, old man.

"Even he can't get me in here. Not in my town." Jonathan was growing tired of this conversation very quickly.

"Your town." The psychiatrist repeated, not a question—a mockery. The older man's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh, did I forget to ask? How rude of me, I forgot the most important part. How is your little lady friend from the asylum?" here the mobster leaned in threateningly, "Does she know what you're doing? What's gonna happen to her once you go down, I wonder. Maybe I'll send some people to make sure she's not alone, huh?"

Now that caught Jonathan's attention. The rest of Falcone's little threats were easily avoided; even he didn't have the power to endanger Ra's Al Gul's plans. He did, however, have the power to have unspeakable things done to Elianna. That would not stand.

Jonathan made his decision from there quickly. Scarecrow was overjoyed that El had been brought into the discussion, knowing that Jon would have to take it seriously, and was raring to be in control.

Jonathan sighed and removed his glasses, hearing the straw man begin to cheer in the back of his mind. "Would you like to see my mask?" He asked, opened his briefcase without waiting for an answer, popped open the false bottom, and reached for the mask, ignoring the several full syringes waiting to be used. He had added a new rig to the case, and it was as good a time as any to test it out. "I use it in my experiments. Now, I'm probably not very threatening to a guy like you," he continued, holding up the mask for emphasis, "but these crazies? They can't stand it."

With that, he made to put the mask on and let Scarecrow take over.

He could barely hear Falcone's quip about the nut taking over the nuthouse over the ever surreal feeling of taking the backseat in his own brain.

Once his face was secured, Scarecrow took great pleasure in pressing the button to release the cloud of toxin. The screams of terror began almost instantaneously, much to his delight, and he rose from his chair to loom over the mafioso.

"They scream, and they cry," he teased with menacing glee. "Much as you're doing now." Jonathan allowed Scarecrow a few more seconds of enjoyment before regaining control. They still had to leave undetected, and Scarecrow couldn't be trusted to be professional. As much as Jonathan enjoyed hearing the man who had dared to threaten El scream, he was more trustworthy when it came to subterfuge.

"Well, he's not faking," Jonathan cleared his throat as he reentered the hallway, greeted by the caseworker's concerned face. "Not that one." He was still a bit flustered by the rush of inflicting such horror upon someone. Move on, Jonathan, act normal. It was a bit of a blur after that, promising to talk to the judge and get Falcone transferred to Arkham before making his way back to the Asylum himself. He still had a few patients to see before he could punch out to oversee the shipment that evening.

However, once the rush wore off, Jonathan found his mind wandering back to what Falcone had said about El. Who knew what he could have told his people already? He stopped by El's office before returning to his own and was surprised to find her no longer there. A quick phone call to the secretary at the front desk told him that she had already left for the day—another phone call to find that her cell phone was dead.

Shit.

Jonathan forced himself back to the matter at hand, telling himself that she was fine, but the lingering worry stayed in the back of his mind.

For about an hour and a half at least, when he decided that he was done with work for the day. The sooner he could take care of business, the sooner he could rush home to make sure she was there.

In the car on his way to the meeting site, Jonathan tried calling her again to no avail.

I really need to get a home phone for the apartment; he cursed to himself.

He found himself unable to focus on the task at hand as he parked his car and got into the one being driven by the goons provided by Falcone. Any of them could have received orders at any point to take El, hurt her, anything. He had no way of knowing if instructions had already been given or what liberties were allowed should anything happen to her.

Behind his impassive expression, Jonathan was operating almost solely on autopilot, getting out of the car and entering the old apartment that served as a drop point. This one had already been used twice before, and given how close the end date was, he had already decided to eradicate any and all evidence once the job was done.

He looked disinterestedly over the pile of stuffed bunnies, appraising the shipment's size, doing quick calculations in his head to the best of his ability. After concluding that it was, in fact, the correct amount, he gestured to the goons to retrieve the substance from inside of the toys. "Get rid of all traces."

Jonathan couldn't help the disgusted look around the dilapidated apartment. He couldn't think of anywhere he wanted to be less at that moment. Distracted by the sheer quantity of distasteful thoughts swirling in his mind, he was almost startled when Scarecrow spoke suddenly.

There's someone else here.

That statement froze all other concerns as he tuned in to his environment. He barely registered one of the thugs telling the others to torch the apartment as he noticed a prickling on the back of his neck, as well as the open window.

Jonathan remained calm and in control as the other men began to douse the furniture in gasoline while he moved to examine the window.

Are you sure?

Before the straw man could answer, the sound of shattering glass from the other room stole Jonathan's attention from the window.

Yes, came the smug response. Wasting no more time, Jonathan let the other goon move to investigate and instead moved into the shadows to retrieve his mask.

You're up again, Scarecrow. Do it fast; we have to get home.

Yeah, yeah, you've been annoying me for hours; she's fine. Would you shut up about it? Retaliated Scarecrow as he forced Jonathan out of the driver's seat and took over, relishing in the drama of wearing his face again.

That moment didn't last for very long before his suspicions were confirmed, and the Batman himself burst into the room, swiftly incapacitating the leftover thug. Luckily, Scarecrow's reflexes were just as fast, and he released a cloud of toxin from their sleeve rig, which hit the caped crusader squarely in the face.

The effects were almost instantaneous, judging by the wide eyes behind the cowl and the erratic, flailing movements. Scarecrow stifled a laugh as the armored man toppled backward away from him.

"Take a seat," he taunted, thoroughly enjoying his playtime, "have a drink." Here he seized a bottle of vodka abandoned by his now useless goons. The staw man snarled mentally, understanding Jonathan's intolerance of incompetence. They would be eradicated along with the evidence of their crimes. Splashing the booze on the caped man in delight, he continued to tease him.

"You look like a man who takes himself too seriously." Scarecrow abandoned the now empty bottle and replaced it in his hand with a zippo lighter that El had left in their pocket.

Wait, she loves that thing-

We'll buy her a new one, pipe down.

He had corraled Batman in front of the window and sparked the lighter, extending it in front of him menacingly. "Do you want my opinion? You need to lighten up." With that, he tossed the lighter, which ignited the caped crusader and the old rug in seconds.

This allowed them a swift escape, as Batman threw himself out the window and plummeted with the rain onto the pavement several stories below. Wasting no time, Scarecrow had them outside and in the getaway car. Luckily, there was a spare key in the visor, and they sped down the street in the direction of where they had left their car.

Slow down! We're attracting attention; we don't need that.

You're the one who's been bitching about getting home for the past few hours.

Not letting up for a second, Scarecrow turned a fifteen-minute drive back to Jonathan's car into a five-minute one before finally retreating to his place in the back of their mind. Of course, on principle, Jonathan was still irritated with Scarecrow for behaving so recklessly, then leaving him to deal with any potential consequences. Still, he was glad for the saved time.

By this point, Jonathan was so frenzied with panic about El's wellbeing that he couldn't even think about their own run-in with the Batman. Still ten minutes away from home, he tried to call her cell once again. Still no answer.

Why the fuck won't she pick up?

Scarecrow didn't respond, finally picking up just how agitated the whole situation had made his counterpart. Best not to rile him up further.

Jonathan nudged the car faster. Only a few minutes away, but it felt like forever. He was so frantic to get home and see Elianna safe that he couldn't even think of what he would do if she weren't. No game plan, not even a shadow of one because she's okay. Or so he kept telling himself.

[bakugou-ou]

雷 -Denki Kaminari x Reader-

Friendly neighborhood admin was freaking out as a result of a massive thunderstorm passing right over her house, so she wrote indulgent Kaminari stuff. Why am I talking about myself in the third person? The world may never know, but it just happened. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little thing I did to make myself feel better.

note: the kanji in the title is the kanji for thunder, read as Kaminari; however, Kaminari’s last name is written 上鳴 and doesn’t actually mean thunder despite being read the same way as 雷, it uses the kanji for up/above and chirping/ringing/sound, which is a reference to thunder and how it comes from above and booms.

“Are you okay?”

You heard a familiar voice as you laid in your bed under the covers; it was the middle of a thunderstorm, something you weren’t overly fond of, and you had taken refuge in your bed, hiding from the storm outside. It was passing right overhead, loud cracks of thunder shaking the building, bright flashes of lightning illuminating the room so thoroughly that even under a thick duvet it was easy to see. Why you were scared, you didn’t know, it just had always been that way. Maybe when you were small, you had enjoyed thunderstorms, you could have sworn you did at some point, but now they were unpleasant, especially when they seemed to be directly overhead like this particular storm.

The electricity in the dormitory had been knocked out by the storm, even the backup generators were out of commission due to the storm, despite being disconnected from the main grid. That alone was disconcerting, as the backup generators were supposed to keep the building powered on and protected in the event of a storm like this. At least it wasn’t an earthquake, or a tsunami, just an obnoxious thunderstorm. The building shook again, and you curled up tighter under the covers, a small noise of discontent escaping you as you buried your face in your mattress.

“I didn’t know you were scared of thunderstorms, ____.”

The last think you needed was Kaminari, the human embodiment of thunderstorms, seeing you like that. Of course he’d be fine right now, his quirk was essentially what was happening outside, he was able to discharge electricity from himself, like a Pikachu… Or a thunderstorm. He sounded so relaxed, it irked you. It was fine for him to be calm during a thunderstorm, of course it was, but you were having a bad time and didn’t need him teasing you for being scared.

Except, he wasn’t teasing you.

You felt your bed give a bit under the pressure of him getting onto it with you, and you wondered what exactly his plan was. Kaminari was always trying to be smooth with you, you doubted that this was an exception to that rule; still, it was comforting to have someone there, even if it was Kaminari of all people. You were friends, you got on well, it was just that he enjoyed teasing you, and flirting with you, and you didn’t need that sort of thing right now. You hoped he wouldn’t, and that if he would that he’d take the cue and leave you alone, better off alone than with someone making fun of your stupid fear.

“This one’s pretty bad, so I can’t really blame you for hiding like that,” He said, pulling the covers up and peeking into your makeshift nest; he paused as large flash of lightning came through the window, followed a second later by booming thunder that shook the building, a direct hit, “Jeez, I wonder how long this is gonna last…”

Kaminari, without asking for your permission first, pulled the blanket off you enough that he could slip in under and join you in your little haven, pulling the blankets back over the two of you and settling in as you continued to hide your face on the mattress. You had half a mind to object to him being under the covers with you, but another crack of thunder shook the building again and you found yourself moving closer to him without meaning to. Without missing a beat, Kaminari moved himself closer to you and began to rub your back in small, circular motions, propping himself up on his other elbow and looking at you, taking in the way you looked whenever the lightning illuminated the space under the blankets where the two of you were currently residing.

“Y’know, when I was a little kid, I used to be really freaked out by thunderstorms, too,” Kaminari told you as you stayed tense under his touch, “I hated how loud they were, and I didn’t like when they were strong enough to knock the power out like this one, which happened way too often at my place. But, when my quirk manifested, it was suddenly gone, the fear I had. I was just as powerful as an actual thunderstorm! I mean, I’m not stupid enough to go outside during one, that’s just asking to get messed up, but I like watching them. I get how they can scare people, though, especially when you know that sometimes people die during them… But we’re gonna be fine! It’s out there, we’re in here, the building is well reinforced. The electricity may have been knocked out, but it’s okay since nothing’s gonna short in here.”

“Not even you?” You teased, feeling a little better with him there, more than you wanted to admit.

“We’re still talking, aren’t we?” He responded, chuckling, “Sometimes I like to try and mimic the lightning outside with my quirk, but that’d probably freak you out right now, wouldn’t it?” You nodded. “Don’t worry, I won’t do it. But, I will stay here and keep you company.”

“Thank you, Kaminari.” You said quietly.

“No problem~!” Kaminari chirped, pulling you even closer, right up against him, “Besides, this is the perfect excuse to get in your bed, which I’ve been dying to do for ages now.”

You groaned at his flirtation, though you knew it was mostly a jest in that moment. You gently pushed him away, your hand putting pressure on his chest as you feigned trying to escape; you didn’t mind, this was nice, you wanted to be there with him now that he was there, and it was comforting for him to be his usual self with you even under that kind of circumstance.

“You know you love me,” Kaminari teased, laughing but slacking his hold on you in case you really did want to move away from him, “You feeling any better?”

“Just a bit…” You mumbled, moving closer to him and resting your forehead against his chest, curling up against him, “You’re an idiot, I hate you.”

“Oh, I can feel how much you hate me.” Kaminari snickered as you wrapped one of your arms around him, holding onto the fabric of his shirt just a bit and nuzzling into him, “You know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could have just told me. I’d have been here a lot quicker.”

“Shut up, idiot…” You grumbled, enjoying his warmth all too much; he smelled nice, too, was he wearing cologne? Or had he always smelled like that?

The storm wasn’t relenting, it kept shaking the building and sending bright light through the window, but it wasn’t as terrifying now, not with you bundled up under heavy blankets with your friend. Your flirtatious, irritatingly charming friend, who was doing his best to make sure you felt okay under circumstances that were clearly unpleasant for you. Kaminari was a good guy, he really was, he didn’t get enough credit for it. The occasional horrifying crack of thunder happened, ones that were louder and more intense than the rest of them, driving you to cling just a bit more tightly to Kaminari each time they happened, but he was more than happy with it, enjoying the contact.

He adored you, he really did want to date you, but he figured you were like everyone else he ever tried to flirt with, you wouldn’t take him seriously if he told you that he was serious. The fact that you seemed to be comforted by his presence was enough to satisfy him, though. This wasn’t about him, it was about you right now. The longer the storm dragged on, the more he wanted to say something, to do more, like play with your hair, or kiss you. But that wasn’t the right thing to do, you guys were just friends, you were just holding onto him like that because you were scared of what was outside, not because you liked him back.

It felt too good to be with him like this, did you always find him that enjoyable to be around? Would you have wanted anyone else to comfort you in that moment? The longer you stayed like that, the more it dawned on you that no, you wouldn’t have wanted anyone else there with you, you liked that it was him, everything about it. Oh, man, you were in deep and hadn’t even realized it. Or, maybe you had, and you had just pushed it off, not wanting to admit it to yourself, or to him, he’d be smug if he knew, wouldn’t he? He’d probably grin and say of course you like me!

Somehow, you began to relax, feeling the weight of your anxiety lift and instead be replaced with a much gentler sort of weight, the weight of exhaustion. You were tired, you needed to sleep, freaking out about the storm had taken a considerable amount of your energy from you. Kaminari was so warm, soft, comforting, it wasn’t hard for you to begin to slip into a well-needed slumber. As you began to fade, your grip on his shirt loosened, you took deeper, slower breaths, and you even moved one of your legs between his to be closer to him, to have more contact between the two of you. He didn’t mind in the slightest, he had always wanted that sort of thing and now he was actually getting it, getting to cuddle with you in your bed, you moving to make more contact on your own, without him asking. He moved the arm he’d been reclining on under your pillow and rested his head on it, watching you as you fell asleep completely. You were too cute, who allowed that? It should have been illegal for someone to be as cute as you were to him.

He thought you were completely asleep before you really were, jumping the gun a bit and leaning down to kiss your forehead. When your eyes opened just the slightest bit, he was mortified, he really thought you were out already.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

You tilted your head up and put your lips on his to shut him up, enjoying the surprised look on his face as you held the kiss. At first, his eyes widened, and he made a muffled exclamation of shock, but as he realized what happened, his cheeks began to flush, you saw it under the next flash of lightning, and then his expression began to relax, and he kissed you back, his eyes slowly closing as he tried to get you to do it again. And you did, you kissed him again, and he smiled just a bit into that kiss, a happy little hum coming from him as he made sure your bodies were as close as they could be without taking your clothes off.

Kaminari pulled away, just for a moment, “So, does this mean we’re a thing now?”

You laughed and smiled, enjoying the way he sounded so unsure, his usual confidence not present in that moment despite the fact that you’d just been kissing each other, “You have to ask?” You teased,

He felt his heart thumping excitedly in his chest, and he wondered if you could feel it, too, how excited he was that he was finally getting to be with you. Who knew all it’d take was a thunderstorm? He kissed you one last time and then sighed; he was tired himself, “Goodnight, Babe.”

Kaminari had been fond of thunderstorms since he was four years old, he hoped that maybe now you would be, too.