#he's burning LMAO

[artispeary]

TWO LESBIANS KILL SENILE WHITE MAN

[yiyuss]

i'm spreading about this because i'm so tired of the misinfo about him being a flirty playboy just because he likes to give compliments

[screwpinecaprice]

I already really like these two, but after The Return of The Pumpkin Rabbit, I have been smitten. (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*♡

[skybristle]

my burning spice update predictions /j

why are you, a battle axe weilder... trying to fight an aerial ranged attacker. I also may have drawn this in a daze because i was kind of pissed off over itb ut whatever it'll be .... Interesting

[paintedcrows-caws]

Front row seat to Alex Hirsch's InMotion London Talk!! Aaaa!! (The high quality close up photos were taken by the wonderful @stupidlittlespirit! Who was sitting with me and had a far better camera, haha)

You can watch the full thing here, recorded by the brilliant Topaz Animation!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hn_O7CMM67A&t=137s

[anniilaugh]

They’re 1000% flirting.

My swing on the @sibmakesart ’s DTIYS! 💚💛 Congrats for the 10k! Your art is always a delight, thank you for sharing!

[wtftaylr]

some 'on the boat back from fortification hill' goofs. This looks like the beginning of a beautiful one-sided friendship

[cxtori]

if the new deadpool movie has taught me anything, it’s that there is nothing sexier than a man in a skin tight, bright colored, probably impractical hero suit.

absolutely. nothing.

[smokbeast]

Been too slow for ut content but, I did try my hand at making an error, as I always and usually do. I don’t fully read the lore or follow up fully on how most aus canons/fanons work and just do my own thing. He’s called seam and he’s a passive error! He’s a bit silly but he’s got the right idea

[mobius-m-mobius]

#just a couple of equally fierce battles 😅

[withdenim]

Lullaby <3

[b4kuch1n]

THEE audiodrama disguised as podcast

[mktskii]

—Burnt Pancakes and a Loser in Denial

—Synopsis: As a newcomer in a busy restaurant kitchen, you’re a disaster waiting to happen, and Bakugou Katsuki isn’t shy about making that clear. The hot-headed line cook has no time for incompetence, and yet he finds himself begrudgingly stuck with you—his clumsy, relentlessly upbeat coworker who can barely crack an egg. Frustrated with your lack of skill, Bakugou can't explain the nagging urge to keep an eye on you or why your laugh sticks in his mind long after you’ve clocked out. Somewhere between burnt pancakes and late-night cleanups, Bakugou is forced to confront the unsettling truth: he just might be falling for the one person he insists he can’t stand.

—Pairing: Line Cook!Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB!Newbie Line Cook!Reader

—Genre: Slice-of-life, comedy, romance

—Tags: unrequited love (sort of), slow burn, workplace, oblivious crush, enemies to (one-sided) lovers, Bakugou Katsuki x reader, harsh Bakugou, denial, quirkless AU

—Notes: ..uh...hi everyone. soooo exuse my insanly long absence. i could use my excuse that I had lined up but would it really matter?? MOVING ON! i got this idea from @/tokenirainanfriend on tiktok soo go follow him ! THE SERIES WILL BE ON HOLD soly because..well..i need ideas. if you all have any, PLEASE message me! i would like to keep it going for a while. also, apologies to people who can actually cook, I'm taking away your skills for this one. ENJOY!!

Bakugou didn’t understand how anyone could be this goddamn dense. Not in a million years would he have guessed that someone who managed to survive in the world, breathe in and out each day, would lack the most basic ability to crack an egg without turning it into a massacre. And yet, here you were, assigned as his new coworker in the bustling, chaotic depths of the kitchen—his kingdom.

As the restaurant’s most efficient line cook, he’d established a meticulous routine to keep things running at the rapid pace they needed to. No time for nonsense. But now? With you around, it was as if the world itself had taken a nosedive into hellfire. He couldn’t go two seconds without hearing you calling his name over the clattering sounds of spatulas, saucepans, and the relentless sizzle of grills.

“Hey, Bakugou..uh,” you called timidly from behind him, holding a spatula in a death grip.

“What?” He turned, already bracing for whatever catastrophe you were brewing.

You offered him a plate of burnt, vaguely pancake-like shapes. “Do these look…right?”

He took one look. Actually— one GLANCE, and he felt two emotions. Disbelief and pure anger.

“Do they look right?" He scoffed "They look like somethin’ crawled out of a dumpster and got hit by a truck. What the hell do you call that?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, grabbing the plate and practically throwing it into the trash. “You don’t call it food, that’s for sure.”

The embarrassment on your face was plain as day, but you bit your lip, nodded, and set to remaking the pancakes with an exhausted sigh. Bakugou had half a mind to scream—honestly, just to get it out of his system. Why the hell did it bug him that you looked so damn disappointed? It was your own fault for taking a job you clearly had no skills for. And yet…

Goddammit, it pissed him off.

It shouldn’t have, but every time you tripped over your own feet trying to get out of his way, or when you muttered a soft “sorry” as if your very presence was an inconvenience, it lit some unidentifiable fuse in him. Not the usual, angry fuse—something else, something gnawing and ridiculous that had his stomach tying up in impossible knots.

And he wasn’t about to let that feeling win.

A few weeks in, the irritation only intensified. The kitchen was a battleground, and you were making him lose his mind. Bakugou was convinced you were planted there to make him suffer—some sort of karmic punishment for every curse he’d ever muttered and every rude remark he’d thrown.

But something was wrong.

Because somewhere between your second attempt at pancakes and your third night shift, Bakugou found himself…observing you. Watching out of the corner of his eye as you focused, cheeks red with effort, brow furrowed as you strained to not mess up. If someone so much as raised their voice at you (and he was well aware, he’d done more than his fair share), he felt his blood boil with some twisted, misguided desire to tell them to back off.

And he despised that feeling.

Every time he caught himself, Bakugou wanted to smash his head against the freezer door.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath, scrubbing a pan with more aggression than necessary. But when you glanced his way, offering that usual tentative smile, it was like the damn pan wasn’t even in his hand anymore. For all he knew, it had slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor—but it wouldn’t have mattered, not with the way his pulse thrummed a little harder, just because of you.

“Did you need any…uh, any help, Bakugou?” you asked quietly, probably hoping not to set off his temper.

It was so ridiculous, he almost laughed—almost.

“Pfft, as if I’d need your help. Just don’t get in my way, alright?” he shot back, trying to ignore the weird pang in his chest at the dejection on your face. But before he could stop himself, he added, “But, uh…I mean, maybe later, if you’re still here, you could work on, I dunno, keeping up with me. No sense in dragging everyone down.”

There was that smile again, softer this time. “I’ll do my best, then.”

Bakugou glared at the pan, willing his pulse to slow down, all the while knowing this was some cosmic joke at his expense.

It wasn’t until one night—one particularly quiet closing shift—that the reality hit him like a two-ton truck.

You were cleaning up the kitchen, humming softly under your breath, and Bakugou was stuck restocking supplies, fuming at the sight of you so…comfortable, so at home in the space you’d once fumbled around in.

And for reasons he could barely understand, he just…watched you. Not out of annoyance or critique, not out of irritation, but just because.

For once, you weren’t trying to make conversation, and he wasn’t telling you off. You looked…content. And when you laughed softly to yourself—at some thought he’d never know—his chest squeezed so tight he was damn sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Hey, idiot,” he muttered, so low he wasn’t sure if you’d even heard him.

You turned, eyebrows raised, that smile making his stomach churn. “Yeah?”

For a moment, he lost track of every insult, every complaint he’d been about to throw at you. Instead, he felt his cheeks burn, and he cursed under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

“Forget it,” he said gruffly, busily organizing the shelf with furious precision. But his mind was already spiraling into the depths of horror: Oh, no. Hell no. No way. This is not happening.

Bakugou Katsuki, a guy who’d barely thought twice about anyone, was…interested? Him? In you?

The thought was absurd. Impossible. But it sat there in his mind, solid as a rock, completely unmoving and irritatingly present. He wanted to punch something—or better yet, punch the feeling itself out of his gut.

For the next hour, he did everything he could to avoid looking your way, stomping around the kitchen like he was gearing up for war, trying to deny this…this idiotic pull. He wasn’t some clueless fool—he’d seen people fall over themselves, getting all mushy and soft around others. But that wasn’t him, dammit.

Yet the feeling sat there, mocking him.

And when you called out, “Goodnight, Bakugou. See you tomorrow!” as you walked out the door, he barely managed a stiff nod. He had an insane urge to follow after you, to make sure you got home safe. Stupid. You can take care of yourself. And it’s not like you’d want him hovering around, anyway.

He slumped against the counter, rubbing his face, silently willing this “crush” or whatever it was to just burn out like a candle in the wind. But he knew it wouldn’t. Not as long as he saw you, talked to you, heard that laugh and saw that damn smile.

Bakugou Katsuki, now a loser in love, was stuck. He’d be damned before he ever admitted it out loud.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[darkfluffydragon]

Here are some sketches I drew of Phantasmagoria Corrupted Burning Spice (Change) and Mystic Flour (Volition) :D

Just a fun lil thing while I debate to myself over whether to focus on the world-building or the story. Also Change as a cowboy..just for fun :')

[cherry-pop-elf]

Drink With Me

George Weasley x Reader

AN: For poor @im-trying-my-best-yall who needs some needed fluff

Sum: George has been acting pretty weird around you recently. He keeps trying to say something to you, but whenever he does he seems to switch topics right before he says it. You figured he’s just stressed about planning for WWW after school ends, but it’s getting annoying now. So you confront him

Warning: Short and Sweet

“Georgie! Hey, I gotta ask you something!”

There you hurried after him, to cut him off from heading to his next class. The rare times he and Fred weren’t glued to the hip. George took up new class that just wasn’t Fred’s speed. Was something about Baking if you recall correctly. Fred prepared to cook. Had to take the chance, while he’s alone, so no one could intercept you both.

“Hey shortie, what’s up?” He would ruffle at your hair, as you quickly fixed it. Those Weasleys and their string bean genes. Made him tower over you. Always left with a hurt neck if you talked to him too long. Hopefully this will be short.

“You’ve been trying to ask me something for the past few days, and I figured now that I caught you that you can tell me. So what’s up?” You asked him. Asking seemed to be what he feared the most out of you.

His wand was soon rubbing his neck, his freckles cheeks flushing, and his doe eyes darting. He just seemed to instantly clammer up. Just not seeming to be the confident ladies man he normally is. He is just a wet hand mess. What was going on?

“Oh yeah….That. Yeah uh….Um.”

Oh how his eyes were darting around. He was trying so hard to find an excuse to not Ben in this situation right now. To find something to make him shut up. To escape this pin. But no one was around. No one anywhere, not even Peeves to give mercy to the bastard in the Gryffindor Robes. He needed to face this head on.

“Was um. Just wondering if you wanted to hit up the Three Broomsticks together. That’s all.” He tried his best to act casual, and shrug. Made you all the more confused.

Why is this making him so flustered?

“Ok…..Werido. That sounds nice. We could hit it up sometime after class. Fred and Angelina should be-“

“Without them…..”

Oh…..Oh.

Just the two of you. No brother, no other friends. Just the two of you. Like a date. Like a normal date that normal couples do. Normal normal normal little dating. Just a date between two people. A date date.

“……I uh. Yeah, I think I can do that.” You swallowed, as this was starting to really register now. He wanted to ask you out on a date. Still, why was he so flustered over it? He’s asked out plenty of guys and gals before. Never sweat this much. Even Fred straight up called Angelina across the table to the Yule Ball, and that was the end of that. What made you different?

“You weren’t dared to do this, were you?”

He stared down at you with the most offended expression possible. As if you called him a blood traitor. Some kind of slur that would make Molly faint. He looked ready to smack you, but of course he wouldn’t. He never would lay a hand on you. Unless you asked.

“What?! The hell you mean ‘was this a dare-‘ bullshit? No! This isn’t some dare. What gave you an idea like that? Fred and I have standards. Pranks like that are not only overly simplistic, but there is no joke at the end of it. Who’s laughing? No one. Give me some respect-!”

He gave you a hip bump, and it made you laugh. Helped you feel a little better over the whole situation. Maybe you were different for other reasons. Maybe he was bashful because you two had been friends for so long. It is pretty awkward to ask a friend out. If they say no, well….You can’t really take back what you said.

“Ok ok, I’m sorry Mr. Weasley. I shall never question your pranking methods again. Now hurry to class, before you get detention. If you get detention we can’t grab butter beers. Go on and get-!” You hip bumped him right back, and he gave that cute crooked smile. One that showed there was no worries to ever hold. That he’s all laughter.

“Alright I’m gone! All gone! Poof!” And down the hallway he went. Vanishing around the corner, as you now were dancing a squealing. Flapping away at your robes in total utter glee.

George Weasley asked you out.

Had you stimming like crazy, unaware that a certain red head had his own stimming session all the same. Flapping his hands to try and calm down. So damn happy you said yes.

[kevindavidday]

i just know neil's ass thinks about his father or riko getting shot from time to time like some grounding memory and ends up with a freakish smile on his face (andrew's sad he's deprived of the visuals he'd have loved to see it too)