#let him get creative

[riddle-in-time]

i just think mello would thrive in a full-contact sparring based martial art

[fisherrprince]

Instead of writing a fanfic like a normal person this oneshot turned into two separate, contextless things,

[tethered-heartstrings]

new favorite theory

[jjoneechan]

sorry for spoiling the surprise 😔

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[sideblogdotjpeg]

ive been thinking about the red string superstition recently and also sol bufo always and it makes me sick how uncannily caldwell tanner has made sol to perfectly target me personally

(+ cropped versions !)

[wejustvibing]

OH???

[crybaby-bkg]

Trainer Bakugou who you're a little terrified of the first day you're paired with him. when asking for a trainer at the gym, you had expected the friendly redhead who always looked so sweet and encouraging and cut as hell. you weren't expecting his grumpy looking blond counterpart, who was all glares and shouts for his clients to keep pushing themselves.

you were hesitant at first, before you quickly realized that it was all a ruse, for the most part. he pushed those who needed that extra encouragement, but was more lenient to people like you who simply wanted a professionals guidance. so, after a few weeks, you liked him for the most part, and his looks damn sure made it easier to cozy up to the big guy.

the only issue you've been having with Bakugou though are the...coregasms, as you've seen them been named on social media, that you keep experiencing. the first time, you weren't sure what it was, why your stomach and pelvis kept tightening up. you couldn't have...climaxed, or anything. you hadn't even been touched!

but, as the weeks go by, and the workouts get more strenuous, they've become harder and harder to subside and ignore, and so had Bakugou's commands to keep going when you suddenly stopped. you can only lie and say its cramps so many times before he realizes that something is up.

you're midway through a good morning, when that familiar feeling starts tightening in the pit of your gut. you clench your eyes shut, shaking your head a little, as if you could ward off the impending feeling. bakugou notices though, frowning at your almost pained expression in the mirror, walking up behind you to stop you as you pull yourself back up. his hands are on your waist, and as you come up, you feel his bulge glide over the curve of your ass, and something in you snaps.

you gasp, buckling over, one hand on your knee as the other reaches back for bakugou's hand to keep you up as your thighs shake. you can feel yourself spasming, clenching and unclenching around nothing, secretly wishing you had something that could fill you up, something that you felt throb against you as bakugou leaned over your form.

"Another coregasm, huh?" he asks you lowly, his lips brushing your ear as you bite your bottom lip to hold back your moan. your eyes buck open though, when his words sink in, head tipping back to look at him in the mirror, only to find his gaze already on you.

"You knew every time?" you ask quietly, panting now that its finally starting to pass over you. but bakugou doesn't let you up from this position, especially since the area you're in seems to be desolate for now.

"It's hard to ignore how pretty you look when you cum, sweetheart." Bakugou seals his words with a firm press to your ass, his cock rubbing the seam, and you can practically feel the heat and veins of it through your thin bottoms. you groan under your breath, getting lost in the feeling of him grinding against you, when he suddenly speaks again.

"You still feel it?" he asks, voice low as he looks at you through his lashes. you nod, biting at your bottom lip as you meet the steady rock of his hips, watching how he smiles before slotting his lips against your ear.

"Want me to help make it go away?" and he does, in the employee locker room after hours. he makes it go away, and rebuild, and go away again and again until you're hoarse and your legs are weaker than they typically are on leg day. bakugou helps the ache go away, but not for that sweet redheaded coworker of his, whose fists have fucked his cock the entire time of watching bakugou rail you over the locker room bench again and again.

[whatudottu]

Hello I put way more effort than I needed to into this, but have it anyway :P

Boniface meets Bonifire, what will they do :P

A version of this page without text because technically this was the first page I drew and put all my effort into that one first lmao-

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[feroluce]

So I spoke somewhat about my thoughts on Emanator Sampo here, but I never really thought of it from a design point of view or what kind of powers he would have until just recently. But I actually kind of love leaning into it from a "stage hand" perspective?

Because like. Aha's body in THEIR official art is completely black, giving attention to all the fun brightly colored things around THEM. And that's so fitting for Sampo! He usually prefers to be a side character. He likes to act from the shadows. His is a much more subtle hand.

So I wonder if as an Emanator, a lot of his clothes are actually very dark? Not necessarily plain, still extravagant and needlessly detailed in things like cut and quality with lots of different fabrics and textures and ornamentation, but dark. Or maybe even his skin itself becomes blackened further down his body; his hands in particular are dark, as a sort of sleight of hand reference.

The motif of a lot of straps wrapped around him like in his canon design is still present, but they're all loose and flowing off of him like paper streamers now instead of restraining him or holding him together. He is no longer contained! Or maybe they're still a bit more rigid/heavy, but just draped more like red stage curtains!

And this is like. Fully self-indulgent, but I love inhuman designs, and there's nothing in canon to say I can't do this, so screw it! Go for broke!! Maybe it's not visible to normal people, but Sampo having a second set of arms would be really cool, as further sleight of hand reference. One set is almost normal looking, but his hands are a bright, attention-drawing white, and the other is dark, set almost in the shadows of the first arms, to act less noticeably.

He also has something of a broken heart design to him in canon (the front of his black shirt with its jagged shape down the middle; his coat looks like a full heart shape in the back), and I actually like him keeping that element as an Emanator, because I think it suits him. Sampo says his taste in aesthetics and views on Elation involve human dignity,

and the story he helps create in Belobog involves the long and winding road of resistance and survival and eventual triumph in the face of some very adverse, oppressing odds. (I'm pretty sure I heard he once called Wildfire "artless" though, plus the man acts like he thinks Shame is some kind of dessert, so like ndkdjzjskkd) But the point being!!

I think Sampo is someone who can appreciate heartbreak and angst and tragedy in a story, because it makes the victory at the end all the sweeter. And this would be another thing he shares with Aha, because I think THEY did bless the Mourning Actors partly just to be a little shit, but also because Aha does recognize tragedy as part of THEIR Path, too, and you can see it in some of the game. So a broken heart motif can still suit him, and I like him having elements of both comedy and tragedy. Like his clothing having a happy sun/sad moon (like the moon in Aha's art) or him having both of the traditional comedy/tragedy masks in his design.

And as Emanator, Sampo can maybe play with the stage settings environment, too. Like lights sometimes behave strangely around him, appearing blindingly bright to someone or dramatically dark. Sampo wills it and suddenly there seems to be a metaphorical spotlight right where he wants everyone to look. And when he doesn't want to be noticed, his face seems to be cast in shadow, he seemingly just fades into the background, no one notices or recognizes him and he sneaks away easily. He can create smoke or fog literally out of thin air without his bombs now, too, the air will just suddenly thicken until his stage is obscured, and Sampo can set the scene as he pleases or disappear without a trace.

And in line with being a stage hand, Sampo can direct attention like no other. He was already extremely good at this as a normal mortal, and becoming an Emanator only took it up to 11, past human limits. Sampo points, and all present feel compelled to follow his fingertip. He looks away, and they all follow his gaze. He can even affect the mood of an audience; he can influence everyone to be calm and placid or he can whip them into a feverish frenzy. Sometimes a crowd will start to become unsettled, agitation stirring until it boils over, until it incites a full on violent mob.

And in the middle of all that chaos will stand one perfectly calm figure, face cast in shadow, until they quietly slip away out of sight.

[sapphorror]

Zim, Dib, Gaz, and Tak are actually all horribly vindictive spiteful people to more or less equal degrees, but the interesting thing is that Zim and Gaz both exact vengeance in very specific, premeditated ways, which are often wildly out of proportion but once they feel like they've evened the score they will pretty much immediately forget about whatever pissed them off in the first place—whereas Dib and Tak are both ostensibly above being ruled by petty grudges, but very obviously boiling over with a constant resentment that sends them pouncing like rabid dogs at even the slightest opportunity or excuse to make the object of their ire suffer (and if they're both working towards their own self-serving end game that just HAPPENS to involve every terrible thing imaginable befalling their enemies, well... that'll just be a happy by-product of their personal success).

I don't I have any point to make here, I just like it when these freaks are all an overwhelming danger to society (and each other)

[seiwas]

Hiya! I love your writing and I'm so glad to be seeing you on my dash bc I haven't in a while! For your writing revival game, can I suggest:

"Incandescent" and either Ushijima or Osamu?

hi cheesy! 🥹 this is so nice of you to say, thank you 🥹 i've been a bit on and off here and there over the past few months because work has just been so busy 🥺 but i'm glad to be back here too!! thank you for sending in a prompt 🥹

contains: established relationship, halloween outfits, miya dynamics

osamu + incandescent

there are a lot of reasons why atsumu loves you for his brother―you bring osamu food when he barely has time to eat in the shop, and you send picture updates in the group chat you have with the two of them and ma. you also give him your extra onigiri when osamu says he's had too much.

you're there for osamu in times when he can't be, and for that, he's grateful.

this time though, he thinks he might just be indebted to you.

"people're g'na ask ya to sit on me," osamu glances at your costume before staring at the mirror again. from the dining table across the room, atsumu is holding in his laugh, doing his best to keep the water in his mouth.

tonight is onigiri miya's annual halloween party, and you've managed to somehow convince osamu to dress as a burner―red incandescent light and all.

"so i will," you smile sweetly, adjusting the foam handle of your outfit. the theme for the party is: onigiri miya, and truly, what is more essential to the shop than an electric burner and its pan?

from the side of the room, you think atsumu nearly chokes.

"it'll be cute," you step towards him, reaching for the black switch along his hip, "plus, you even light up!"

in an instant, he glows red, the spiral pattern along his chest lighting up like an electric burner heating up. atsumu snorts, erupting into a fit of laughter as he slaps his knee.

"shit," he wipes a tear while holding up his phone camera, "can't wait f'ma to see this."

osamu looks at him from the mirror, deadpan, "yeah, show'er ya shitty dye job too."

because atsumu doesn’t look any better at all, dressed as none other than osamu for halloween―black long sleeves with an apron, a pair of gloves and osamu's actual work pants. the cap on top of his head rests on temporarily dyed jet black hair, but he's done it in such a haste that his blonde roots are still showing.

you laugh, never quite getting used to their antics despite being a witness to it for years. halloween with the twins is always a memory you look back on fondly, and you don't think this year will be any different at all.

[whereismyhat5678]

Gustavo and Pizzahead in the same room, what would happen?

…

He will soon cease to exist

[maleficore]

My playstyle pretty much boils down to "Let's see how much suffering I can inflict on Cullen"

[ginger-ink]

Since none of the 'level-up' techniques names really apply to whatever the fuck Ichigo is doing at any given time—ie Byakuya calling out his pseudo-Bankai, him basically having Resurreccion over a Quincy's bastardization of Bankai, later being perma stuck in a shikai that Kubo confirmed takes whatever form he feels like, Horn of Salvation, the Final Getsuga being basically a Letzt Stil masquerading as a Shinigami technique, etc etc—I think Ichigo should give up on trying to make the existing terms work for his hybrid nonsense and just start calling them random shit.

Forget yelling Bankai. Just have him dramatically yell rock and roll references and titles of books or plays he's reading/translating. Maybe the name of whatever random western artist he was listening to yesterday. The title of his literary analysis thesis. Just. Whatever.