#like will I ever be able to do decent enough art?

[that-dreaded-wolf]

.

[radarsteddybear]

I recently dug up a comment sheet written about me from my first grade teacher, and one of the things she noted was that my handwriting was terrible and that I seemed to really struggle with letter formation and also putting the letters on the lines properly (which are both still things I'm not particularly good at). And I can't help but wonder if I'd have benefited from OT.

[maxwellatoms]

Do you think were any kind of specific aspects of the culture, industry, economy, etc that made making cartoons in 90s / 2000s better or worse than trying to make them today?

They're literally different worlds.

As a 22 year old neurodivergent, I was able to pitch show ideas directly to executives. Part of that was because TV Animation wasn't a glamorous profession (quite yet), so the higher-ups were genuinely passionate about the medium. I earned good money for the time and was generally trusted to run my show and tend to the crew. I would periodically be handed portfolios, which I would personally review and pass on to other show runners. For the networks it was always corporate, cutthroat, and ultimately about the money, but as an artist you could still have a voice and make art while being paid a living wage.

The pay for a freelance storyboard in 2005 is almost exactly what it is today, but now you're likely to have less time and be required to do an animatic on top of it. Portfolios are online, and (beyond metrics) you'll probably never know if anyone looks at it or not.

Animation got big. Too big. The executives got "glamorous", then the talent got "glamorous". By then you probably wouldn't get a pitch meeting unless you were a celebrity or knew one willing to be connected to your project. Animation eventually got so big that it popped. And that's where we are now.

Most of the people I know from Kid's TV Animation are currently unemployed. I have been off Jellystone for over a year, and I'm starting to get genuinely worried. Like, "move away to save money" worried. Most of the employed artists I do know are on long-running legacy series, and they're concerned about their futures when/if those series end. Right now is not a fantastic time for "animation as a money-making profession". The "glamorous" part popped years ago.

That being said, there are still opportunities out there. If you're just starting out, apparently there's a planned surge in adult and pre-school animation. It's also a great time (as long as YouTube remains sane) to be crafting your own content. But I think that the time of Big Studio Patronage is over for most of the industry. It's up to the individual artist now more than ever, not only to make but to promote their own content.

Back at the height of Billy & Mandy, we mostly pulled fours and fives in the Neilsen ratings, but we occasionally got a seven. For reference, E.R. consistently got eights. It's difficult to say exactly how many people that actually was due to how those ratings work, but it was a big deal for the time. Millions. Enough people that if I had a dollar for each person that just watched that one episode, I would have been set for life. Now, nobody gets a seven. A four is huge. Back then there were maybe fifteen or twenty channels of programmed content as opposed to the streaming smorgasbord we were all just enjoying (and which now also seems to have popped). Point being, even though I wasn't paid-per-view, I was able to use those views as justification for an eventual raise. In modern times, streaming numbers are seemingly deliberately kept secret. You'll never really know how well your show was doing until it's over. Or maybe never.

In modern times, a million views on YouTube is enough to get you noticed online. It's a lower bar for entry in a way, but you've got to get there all by yourself. Once you're there (hello Hazbin) a network may indeed come and scoop you up. Even if they don't, you can probably make a decent living with numbers like that if you're savvy and willing to take the time.

I feel like I could go on all day, shaking my fist at the sky, gray-ass beard blowing in the wind. Was it better or easier making cartoons in the past? It seemed that way to me, but that was a world I knew. There was no AI to sell you out to, and the media was more of a "Wild West" than it is today. I do think that AI is going to continue to displace artists (and soon others), making it even more difficult to get anyone's eyes on anything at all.

Culturally, we lack the common touchpoints that bonded our society in the 20th Century. I suspect that the media landscape will continue to become more "bubbly" and disjointed unless some powerful force swoops in to mandate a common viewpoint. Those are two very divergent, uniquely tiring futures, each presenting a different challenge for an artist's survival.

Outside of whatever our modern world is, animation was made for a century by photographing drawings. If Émile Cohl could do it in 1908, you can do it now. It's a lot of labor, but maybe that's part of what makes it special.

[court-jobi]

Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 

He asks what brought this on~ 

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?" 

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop." 

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay." 

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 

"Hmm– kiss me?" 

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 

“Hell yes--" 

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 

Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him, 

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~" 

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 

"Atta girl~" 

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 

You laughed at the nature of it all. 

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~" 

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

[hestzhyen]

So, About That Drama...

After seeing the Kagurabachi community meltdown play out on Twitter, Discord, and Reddit, I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that the era of peace towards all is over. I'm so glad I put down roots here instead of the other places.

Whatever might have been true when the fandom just started out, the gen spaces are no longer safe for fujoshi/shippers.

Katsu, the biggest artist in the Western fandom -and someone I consider a friend-, was bullied out because of two individuals with personal vendettas and not enough resistance against them. Her final message is here:

https://x.com/Katsutacle_/status/1879888982886224206

I'm not going to write an in-depth essay about everything that happened. It's been less than a month since I got back from the hospital and the last thing I need in my life is stress over online "discourse". I've just been trying to help the main victim behind the scenes and speak up when I'm able. I so sincerely do not want to be involved in this bullshit... I just want my friend to be okay no matter what she decides to do in the future.

I usually don't get involved in fan spaces because I'm tired of trying to exist in places I'm not wanted. I don't expect everyone to enjoy things the same way I do. I just want to talk about them with the handful of other people who see things the same way... but it's so tiresome to be punched down on because I think it would be neat if two fictional guys fell in love.

I wanted to believe that Kagurabachi could be different. I did at the start, which helped me embrace the series wholeheartedly where I would normally hold back. And I don't regret letting this manga take over the precious few working brain cells I have. My only regret is believing the warmth and acceptance would last. As of now, the Kagurabachi fandom is far more interested in keeping a false peace that only benefits the usual suspects instead of making the space truly welcoming to all fans.

I won't stop posting about this manga and I won't write off everyone else- a lot of people sent well-wishes to Katsu and got their accounts banned on Avizie's Discord and subreddit to support her. I'm just putting expectations for the general fandom's behaviour back down to where they should have been all along.

I simply won't be telling people that it's worth joining the community any more or that it's wholesome compared to others. It's just more of the same with a thin veneer of acceptance over the same old tendency to belittle and ostracise. I'm glad I decided to keep to myself for the most part and only toss my thoughts out to the void instead of engaging on a deeper level. I should be sad or upset over this, but... I've been in fan spaces for long enough that it's just normal now. Not once have I ever felt at home in a main anime/manga space even if I didn't ship any characters from the series. Seems like I'll have to keep waiting for a place to belong.

And if anyone tries to cast this as a "ship war" because it involved the two most well-known shippers in the fandom and their "rival" ships, that's not it. That's misconstruing what actually happened to write it off as dumb fandom drama. Trying to cast the bullshit as a moral argument because Hakuri is 17 or because Katsu drew clearly labeled NSFW YuraChihi isn't the point- it's a deflection. Katsu was bullied out because Yuna (YunAris) and Avizie hated her guts despite her giving them every possible chance to act like decent people.

Avizie never liked her after she called him out for trying to get JJK-style leak culture in the fandom, and Yuna... I don't know her, but seeing how she stalked and harassed minors for weeks because they called Chiyuki and her art mid (without tagging her or anyone else!), then kicked off all this drama by pulling in Katsu and simbay who had nothing to do with it... she needs to get a grip on herself and grow up. Both of these individuals are adults, mind you. And both of them cannot stand Katsu for very personal and petty reasons.

So here we are.

It was never about the HakuHiro vs. Chiyuki nonsense, Hakuri's age, or anything else for Yuna and Avizie. All of it was merely an excuse to harass and slander Katsu until she was driven out. And good for them I guess because it worked. I hope they find the healing they obviously need to grow and become better people, but for now, I'm going to further distance myself from the fandom at large and be there for my friend.

Not much else to say really. If you have a choice, be kind.

[cats-artbag]

SwapOut/Webcomic/Twitch PSA!

Hi everyone 👋🏻 Zk here >< or Cats, for older followers

So I've been getting back into doing SwapOut again, but I would like to appeal to everyone who reads and loves the comic. Much love to all of you who's still sticking around 🙏🏻💙 But something has also always been bothering me throughout this journey.

As many of us know, we artists do these comics for free (especially fan comics), starting them out of love and taking a LOT of time and energy out of our lives to continue making them.

And it's amazing how many of you come from translations or comic dubs on Youtube, which are also very well-done and take a lot of effort to make, much love to them too. There is a difference, however.

Monetization.

And I'm not asking for pity! I'm appealing for understanding.

Because some comic dubbers on Youtube are able to earn ad revenue from the videos they upload. From the beginning, we artists have given them the permission to dub our works. But we don't receive anything from it, nor do we usually charge them for using our art (against our better judgement).

We let them use our comic pages in their monetized videos for free. And occasionally these videos receive thousands and millions of views, which I imagine gives a decent amount of ad revenue, while the artists themselves don't usually earn anything from their own artwork, nor do we ever want to put it behind a paywall of any kind. (we like reading free comics too so don't worry x|)

... But doing full-colored comic pages for free eventually gets hard to sustain without any income from it, even more so when we need to give our time and energy to other jobs to earn money for a living instead. We legitimately keep going on our comics purely out of love. Truly, we would LOVE to do our own art for a living. There's things like Patreon but it's only feasible if we're also able to produce bonus content or show BTS, and only people willing to spend money for them can help us, and not readers who aren't able to.

And we understand that not everyone can afford to support us monetarily. And that's okay!

But if you love these comics and want to really help us to keep going, there ARE ways you can easily support us for free!

For example, affiliates on Twitch (like myself) are able to earn ad revenue very early on (they must have at least 50 followers, quite a requirement, but still easier to obtain than Youtube's 1000 subscribers).

(my Youtube, btw. not much rn but drop a subscribe?)

But simply put, if the vast majority of readers from the yt numbers visit and stay for ads on the artists' Twitch streams (remember to have adblocker disabled for the site, if any), they'll be making an actual, physical contribution to the artist themselves, at no cost whatsoever. We earn up to 55% from any ads that run on our stream, so the more viewers, the better!

(this is my twitch on average 8 viewers, with a 3 hour stream. again, the more the better!)

(ofc you can also buy subs to watch ad-free and supports me directly, but i'm typing all this to share the free ways people can support their fave creators ✨)

And even if that doesn't work out, I'd be happy enough to see most of you there 🙏🏻💙 I've been treating my streams as work, so I'm striving not to break the streak.

So drop a follow on my Twitch, and catch the streams when you can! They're great if you need company or background noise, and also great for co-working~

Currently streaming WEEKLY, Mondays, Wednesdays (SwapOut) and Saturdays, 10.30AM EST

(art by @cupcakepaints)

>> twitch.tv/zkcats <<

Anyway thanks for listening to my Ted talk, please share this around for others as well >< 🙏🏻 Artists, make this a reblog chain or something! Promo your stuff!

And apologies for the essay, I wasn't expecting to type this much sdghsgh this itself is not an ad for Twitch or whatev, I'm just a little frustrated with needing to juggle all this.

I was also considering hosting SwapOut somewhere that could get ad revenue, but I wasn't sure where until I realized I can probably earn that from my Tapas now (i think?? sdfhgh up to 70% ad revenue there but i haven't seen any yet) So maybe I'll post there a day earlier than here or something? We'll see. Go subscribe there! Check it out! Reread it! Help ME help YOU!

... Much appreciated ><

[mirensiart]

Sorry if this has already been asked. I get only an hour of free time a day right now. I like your art a lot! But I had a question about the Linked pain story... do any of the Link's have a sensitivity to certain types of pain? For example, I can handle a lot of blunt pain like sore muscles and bruses and such but have a low tolerance for sharp pain like cuts or that sharp pain you can get when you run too far.

My sister is the opposite. She crys all the time about little bruses or soar feet but cut her hand pretty bad (I'll spare the details) and just wrapped it in a towl and kept going like it was nothing. Are any of the boys like that? Like: "I'd rather take a sword over a moblen club." or vice versa?

Thank you for creating such adorable art! ^-^

Hey anon!

I haven't really gone into detail about this, like so far the only thing that's been established is that twilight has high physical pain tolerance and wind&four have low physical pain tolerance

But I suppose if I could divide the different type of tolerances then I can see it like

Wild having a high physical pain tolerance as well, maybe not as much as twilight, but like he comes completely undone and is defeated by stomachaches lol which he suffers a lot cause he keeps eating weird things lol also anything that has to do with his hair, hair pulling is his biggest weakness, that he can't tolerate lol

Hyrule is good with physical pain tolerance as well (he was pretty functional with a migraine in the last update), but magic exhaustion or magic related pains floor him. In this au, his healing magic spell is a self healing spell and thus when he uses it on someone else the magic hurts, hyrule does not bode well with that pain at all (but heals others anyway, as if that's gonna stop him) baby needs to lay down immediately after that though

Four has pretty low pain tolerance in general but the pain of burns or of being too close to fire doesn't bother him and he tolerates it quite well thanks to being a blacksmith!

Wars has a pretty good physical pain tolerance, but he's more used to sharp pain than blunt pain, like he won't really react to a cut but whines and complains a lot about body aches and sore muscles

Sky I feel is the same as Wars, sharp pain is ok, sore muscles and chest pain thanks to running out of stamina is not ok lol

Wind doesn't like any type of pain, but he tolerates burns really good, he has burned his hands countless of times with ropes while sailing, so he's used to them

Legend doesn't tolerate sharp pain at all, despite his veteran status and countless adventures cuts, stabbing, etc is a no no lol he can tolerate body aches, chronic pain, stomachaches, headaches and sore muscles really well though lol he has them A LOT

Time is somewhere in the middle, he is able to tolerate sharp pain pretty well and he is functional with a migraine or a stomachache and he fares pretty decently with his chronic pain, but transformation pains like the wolfie one is like The Worst Thing Ever to him lmao

Twilight is an outlier and shouldn't be counted, but the best way to describe him is that most physical things don't bother him, but one cute baby kitten being lost or one of the ordon kids saying something mean to him like say that he isn't Cool anymore is enough to break him lmao

I do believe they all hate needles, like the pain from stitches is hated universally here lol

[ponderingmoonlight]

Rengoku taking you on a date to some festival (like the on in my dress up darling) and watching fireworks with you + lots of fluff

Ahh this instantly reminded me of that official art I used in the cover, so cool! Please let me know what you think <3

Kyojuro Rengoku taking you on a date to a light festival

Pairing: Rengoku x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: Even though Kyojuro never saw more than a kind comrade in you, he decided to take you to the light festival he arranges every year for his beloved mother. All it takes is one evening for him to realize that you are way more than just a comrade to him...

Warnings: This is my first ever Rengoku fic so please take your time and leave a like, comment or reblog if you enjoy 🥹 fluffness overload, reader being shy, last part not proofread bc I reeaaaallyyy need to work on my university papers right now, hope you still enjoy!

One last glance in the mirror just to make sure you look alright while your heart beats out of your chest.

Finally. This is the day you’ve been waiting for since weeks. The minute none other than Kyojuro Rengoku asked you to accompany him to the yearly night festival in his hometown, you thought about it each and every day. What are you supposed to wear? Are you skilled enough to do your makeup? What if he doesn’t like you in something apart from your demon slayer uniform? It took ages to decide on a festive yukata you’ll wear, hours to do your hair decently enough. And in the end, you decided to wear no makeup at all.

“(y/n), he is awaiting you at the door”, your beloved mother gently announces into your room.

He’s there. Your fingers run over the soft fabric of your yukata frantically one last time before crossing the room and walking down the hallway.

“Oh... (y/n)”, the man at the door breathes out, eyes widen and mouth hanging open.

Huh, why is he looking at you like that? Is a stain on your yukata that you’ve missed? Is your hair already falling apart? Your mind goes blank, staring at him through doe eyes. What is wrong?

“I’m sorry for staring at you so shamelessly. It’s just…You look strikingly beautiful.”

In an instant your cheeks heat up, skin turning dark red without mercy. Did he just call you beautiful?

“Oh…Thank you so much, Rengoku-san. I really don’t deserve your praise”, you reply, bowing down in gratitude.

In the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of his festive black yukata and white cape. How is a single man able to look so elegant and breath-taking? How is it possible that he invited you to this festival right by his flamboyant side?

“May I ask you to call me Kyojuro, please? No need for formalities.”

Your heart skips a beat. Are you dreaming? This is too good to be true. Over the last few months, you worked close to him, always admiring him from afar. Officially, he was never more than a hashira, the ideal you grieved for. But when you got to know him better, when you were able to talk about anything but the demon slayer corps…There was no way out of hopelessly falling for him.

He stretches his hand out, smiling at you so widely that you forget how to breathe to a minute. Why…

Does he want you to take his hand?

“Go on, dear. Have a nice evening and stay safe.”

With a gentle push, your mother draws you closer to him, making you grab his warm hand out of instinct. Despite you went on multiple missions with him, you were never this close to him, never meeting each other in privacy. But this…

This feels like a date.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? I hope I don’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

You hold onto his arm tightly, gazing at him through widen eyes. Oh no, you’re messing it up with being so nervous. Should you tell him the truth? Or just pretend there’s nothing wrong?

“Can I be honest with you?”, you mutter, making him tilt his head in a way that makes you see stars.

“Of course, you always can!”, he shouts back in the matter of seconds.

“You know…This is the first time a man ever took me out…”, you stutter, gaze fixated on the grass underneath your feet.

His eyes dart towards your face, looking for a sign of humour in your bright orbs. But by the way you blush so deeply and how you fumble his sleeve he can tell you are serious about your words. A gorgeous woman like you was never asked out? This is impossible, this is absolutely unacceptable. He clenches his hands into fists.

Kyojuro Rengoku will make sure to make you feel special throughout the entirety of this day.

“Then I am beyond honoured to be the first one”, he replies along with a bright smile that lights up his entire face.

You smile at him widely, that cute little blush still tinting your cheeks in the most admirable way Kyojuro has ever witnessed. He never thought about asking a woman out, let alone another member of the demon slayer corps. For all these months, you were nothing but comrades, a pair that worked really well together.

Until it became more for him.

Until he couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you left long ago. Until he started to ponder about your breath-taking smile and soft hair instead of your fighting skills. Until he saw more in you than just a demon slayer.

No, you are a woman. And what a gorgeous one. Maybe Uzui was right, after all.

“So you and (y/n), huh?”

“What are you talking about, Uzui?”

“Come on man, I see the way you look at her. And I get it, she is really stunning and pretty smart on top. She’d be a great catch for you, especially for the first one.”

“The first?”, Kyojuro repeated in shock, widen eyes staring at you shamelessly.

He never planed on having a single wife in the first place. Why would Uzui suggest something so ridiculous? You are nothing but a comrade to him with your shiny eyes, strong body, and the delicate way your body moves in the sunset. And oh, your character made of pure gold, how you treat others with infinite kindness. So delicate, so lovely…

“Oh my, look at all those delicious sweets”, you cry out in excitement, arm wrapping itself around Kyojuro’s tighter.

“You never told me that you like sweets”, he replies gently.

“Would you…Would you mind getting something to eat with me? I really love sweets and here are so much of them to try.”

The way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear almost drives the flame hashira himself insane, eyes glued to your delicate frame in nothing but admiration. How did he never really notice how unmistakably lovely you are?

“Not at all, let’s get you something to eat!”

Proudly, he watches how you slowly but surely get comfortable around him, telling him everything he needs to know about your favourite sweets while your eyes sparkle in sheer excitement.

“I love chocolate as well, especially the darkest one!”

“I heard that far away, someone invented a white chocolate. White! Can you believe it? How is it even possible to make something like that? I wonder what it tastes like.”

“Someday, I will take you to find out yourself”, Kyojuro suddenly blurts out.

Your eyes dart towards him, hands completely frozen in place. Calm down, don’t freak out, tame your excitement.

“Would you really do that, Kyojuro?”

“If it makes you happy, I very gladly will!”

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Maybe your endorphins are all over the place because of all the sweet you’ve ate, maybe it is the sake that was in the pralines from earlier, but you can’t contain yourself. With a swift motion, you put the last piece of chocolate in your mouth before wrapping your arms around none other than Kyojuro Rengoku.

Kyojuro Rengoku, the man you’ve been eyeing since joining the demon slayer corps. Kyojuro Rengoku, who seemed to never see more in you than a simple friend.

Kyojuro Rengoku, who instantly wraps his strong arms around you as well.

He didn’t expect you this close to him except for training. But oh does it feel good. How did he never notice how intoxicating good you smell and how warm your body feels? How did he never notice how much smaller your hands are compared to his? And the softness of your perfectly made hair. He can’t help but wonder how long it took you to make them look this way?

You are so beautiful.

“Thank you for taking me here. I never thought you…You would do something like that with me.”

Your hot breath tickles against his neck and makes shivers run down his spine.

“Of course! After all, I really enjoy your company!”

Discretely, you return to your own seat, the slight tint of red displaying your embarrassment. Did you really just hug him? Hopefully he doesn’t think you’re a freak. Or even worse: what if he doesn’t want to work with you anymore? You’d rather adore him in the dark than not seeing him at all.

“Excuse my outbreak. I guess I got a little carried away. Oh, where are all the people going?”

Your eyes follow the multiple people around you who seem to meet up on the other end of the well-decorated village. By now, it’s already getting dark, the sun is almost completely set.

“Didn’t you know! In just a few moments, the traditional firework will start! Follow me!”

He grabs your hand. Kyojuro’s warm hand wraps itself around yours while he leads you to the crowd, an excited grin plastered on his face.

This is what he waited for, finally he is able to show you the firework. Since you’ve mentioned in a training session that you never saw a firework before, he knew he had to change it.

“Here you’ll be able to see everything.”

Kyojuro”, you breathe out, eyes roaming around the lovely area.

Despite the fact that there is a crowd of people around you, you’re standing next to him in a small pavilion, decorated all over with the most delicate flowers.

“Many of the buildings around us are owned by my family, like the pavilion we are standing in at the moment. After my mother died, I arranged this festival in her honor. She would have loved to make other humans happy by the sight of fireworks.”

Your breath hitches, heart almost overflowing with emotions. Even though he smiles at you softly, you can tell by the pained gleam in his otherwise bright orbs how much he misses his mother especially today.

“I will enjoy every second of it just like she does. I’m sure she is proud of the man you have become, Kyojuro.”

You place your hand on his, fingers intertwining as you lean your body over the railing.

“I bet she watches over you right now from afar.”

“I hope she does”, Kyojuro replies unusual calm.

Then it begins. Your eyes dart towards the sky and the play of colours that lays itself out over your head. So many colours that sparkle like stars, the burnt smell in the air. You don’t know how you imagined a firework to be, but definitely not this exciting.

But unlike you, Kyojuro isn’t able to look at the sky. No, all that he’s able to see is you and how the fireworks reflect in your widen eyes.

This. This must be what dreams are made of, the reason why Uzui is married to three women. Just the way you carry yourself is enough to drive him insane, to make his heart jump out of his chest. And especially now, he just isn’t able to resist any longer.

Before he decides against it, he wraps his arms around you from behind, holding you close with one arm resting around your waist and the other on your shoulder.

“The fireworks will never shine as bright as your eyes, (y/n).”

“K-kyojuro…”

“I love you with all my heart. All this time I thought it is nothing more than sympathy, that I see nothing more than a comrade in you. But you in that delightful kimono, your eyes shining like the stars above…It’s love, (y/n). I love you.”

Suddenly the fireworks above are out of your sight, eyes locked with Kyojuro and his slightly redden cheeks. This can’t be true, right? You dreamt countless night of him, imagined what it would feel like to lay in his arms like you do right now. Is a man like him really able to love a women like you, are you worth his time?

“I’d love to kiss you right now.”

You hold your breath, head nodding ever so slightly when his face draws closer and closer until…

Fireworks around you explode in a grand finale when he presses his lips against yours softer than you ever imagined. He feels as warm and comforting as you expected, his grasp keeping you from sinking down to the ground.

“I could watch you for a lifetime, (y/n)”, he hushes against your lips.

“You…you are way better than a firework”, you breathe out.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez

[milehighmegs]

On the Subject of Fandoms: A Love Letter

So, I'm old. Well, oldER. I haven't entered the twilight of my years by any stretch, but once I entered that midlife wistful state of nostalgia, I knew that I had very likely reached the point at which it would be more past than future. And ya know, that's ok. I made peace with my mortality long ago. I don't fear death, I fear not living before I die.

So what's that got to do with fandoms? you may be asking. Fair enough. Here's what it's got to do with fandoms:

Before it was even a term, before I could do multiplication or write my name in cursive (I told you I'm old), I was part of a fandom and didn't even know it. My parents watched 'Star Trek: The Next Generation' when it was still on primetime; we even recorded the final episode on VHS and had it for years. (I told you, I'M OLD.) It was so incredibly formative for me that it's become part of my identity, part of my moral & ethical code, part of my personality. Is that ridiculous? Dramatic? Maybe even a bit of hubris? Perhaps. But it's true, nonetheless.

I've since joined other fandoms, of movie franchises (namely the MCU), TV shows (like Good Omens), and musicians (I'm a die-hard metalhead) over the course of my life, each of them creating/inhabiting a different part of what makes me ME. Though I've always remained the same basic person at my core (a decent one at least if not a good one, I hope), being a part of these fandoms has shaped the foundations of how I live my life, and how I've LIVED my life.

Being on the proverbial back nine of my earthly existence, looking back at what's come before, at how far I've come and all the things I've fucked up or gotten right, questioned, accepted, regretted, cherished... so much of that is filled with moments like, 'what would Captain Picard do? How would the Avengers handle this? Which Slipknot song would be most comforting right now?' With the explosion of semi-social media sites (like tumblr here, and its gateway drug, Pinterest), I've been able to dive even deeper into the fandom. The fic, the art, the theories & analyses... it turns my appreciation for all these things I love to 11. But it wouldn't be possible without the most critical element: the fans.

Because people have such a love for, and identify so strongly with the stories & characters of their respective fandoms, they go deep into hidden meanings, major themes, & what they imagine these stories would be like if they were able to direct the action. More than anything, what I love about fanfic/fanart is that while yes, we're creating what we want for the characters, it's more a reflection of what we want for ourselves, both in the same situation as the characters and in life in general. For example, I see SO MUCH art/fic of Crowley & Aziraphale being open & free in showing their love for each other. I see so many stories of them making up and living happily ever after. The art ranges from sweet & adorable to... ah... adult-themed, but the vast majority of the latter is passionate, tender, & clearly loving; rarely is it straight-up raunchy. Smutty? Totally. Raunchy? Not so much. And why? Because we know these two are IN LURVE, not just in lust. And we want what they (clearly) have, even if they can't admit it to one another. We, the fans, can live vicariously through these characters and these worlds, and there we can find what we're looking for.

I've had a rollercoaster of a life, emotionally speaking, especially in matters of romantic love, and much of that hasn't been pleasant. I've done so much soul-searching, shadow work, self-care and all that whathaveyou, but none of it- NONE of it- has come anywhere near to being as insightful as the fan-based art & analyses of the relationship between Crowley & Zira. I have spent the vast majority of the last week thinking about it, writing about it, going over & over how it applies to my life & experiences, and I gotta say... none of it would be possible without the remarkable Good Omens fandom. So seriously, thank you. THANK YOU. You've helped to make me a better person. You've helped to make me look back on my life, smile, and turn around... to look forward to what comes next.

Keep up the incredible work, creators. You never know whose life you could be saving.

[adobe-outdesign]

Have you done a Buzz review yet? Love that guy, but I feel like not a whole lot of others do.

The Buzz is only one of two insect Neopets, the other being the Ruki. Ironically, the two are kind of opposite in terms of design—the Ruki has a very insect-like body but a non-insect face, while the Buzz has a non-insect body but a very insect face complete with compound eyes (unusual for a Neopet design). Between the two I personally like the Ruki a bit more as I feel like it captures what I like about bugs more, but the Buzz is a worthwhile addition with its own flair.

In terms of design, the Buzz is closest to a dragonfly with its large compound eyes, four transparent wings, and cerci. However, the resemblance beyond that is closest to a reptile, with a scaled underbelly, spines, and anatomy that resembles a Krawk. The dragon/bug look is a rare combo to see in media, but it really feels natural here.

Color-wise, the base colours have green eyes and spikes with cream-colored underbellies. Personally I like it more when the eyes and spikes match the primary color, which most painted colours do, but the defaults are decent enough.

I think Buzz mostly benefited from conversion. While they have been saddled with a fist, they also received much improved art that fixes their anatomy and increases the size of the details so the entire design reads better. I also like the lighter-colored wings on the converted version; they feel a bit overpowering on the old art.

Favorite Colours:

Baby: Baby pets that lean into the natural life cycles of real animals are always fun, and the baby Buzz is no exception. (Entomology disclaimer: grubs are usually beetle larvae, but it doesn't really matter anyway as this is a fantasy creature.) It's hard to make a grub cute, but this design pulls it off, with a face that's still fairly Buzz-like and a tiny body to go with it. Both converted and UC/styled versions are good, though the styled is about 50% cuter.

Maraquan: Lobsters aren't insects but they are vaguely insect-like in terms of body design, with a hard segmented shell and lots of legs. In that respect, the Maraquan Buzz makes a lot of sense, and the design is able to adapt the Buzz's face and basic design onto a lobster-like body without it looking uncanny. I also really like the desaturated blue palette combined with the cream underbelly. Once again both versions are good, though I will note that the converted version subtly improves the marking consistency on the head a bit.

Faerie: More of a butterfly this time, the faerie Buzz sports a pretty pink, purple, and yellow-orange palette with lots of swirls and intricate details. The wing shape is really pretty and the body markings make it feel unique even when converted. While both versions are okay, the UC/styled is better due to both the original pose and details like the darker wings, curled jaw protrusions, and less spiky spines (which are constrained only to the head and not the back).

BONUS: The Darigan design gives the Buzz a wasp body, making it by far the most insect-like Buzz available. It's a great pick for the concept, and details like the stripes and the spines under the jaw feel really well thought out. Only nitpick is that the wings are too dark... and that the converted version is TERRIBLE, which is why this is a bonus pick. I guess there was nothing they could do to convert it without it looking bad, but like... yikes(TM). Thankfully, the styled version remains as good as ever.

[homunculus-argument]

Intelligence is a nebulous concept that can't be perfectly and exactly measured in numbers or other metrics, but there are things people generally agree as signs of at least some intellect. An ability to learn and employ new knowledge, adapting to new information, being able to notice patterns and correlations between seemingly unrelated things. Being able to adjust one's methods as needed, ability to make deductions and educated guesses based on incomplete data, being able to improvise if necessary.

And look. Don't get me wrong here. But I learned to read on my own when I was five, I literally have no memories of ever not knowing how to read. English is not my first language, I cannot officially call myself bilingual because neither of my parents was a native english speaker. I first picked it up by hearing it on TV. I could already read and speak english when I went into school, and for the rest of it I managed to get decent enough grades purely by improvising that nobody noticed that I literally never did my homework ever before I was 11. Nobody noticed that I have an attention deficit disorder before I was 27.

I learned to play the clarinet, the piano at some point, and though I lost my voice, I used to sing. If you gave me an instrument and played me a tune, I could repeat it playing by the ear. I could even write it down, note by note, if I heard it a few times and remembered it. If you gave me notes of a song I've never heard, I could whistle it from the notes.

I learned enough swedish in school to read the back of a shampoo bottle, but still enough to compare and contrast the nuance differences in the finnish, swedish and english translations of the same notifications at bus stops. I can summarise what is the unifying element between a long list of words with the same prefix or suffix, and name their mutual definition. I remember enough of the french I learned in school and spanish I learned on my own to roughly parse together portugese.

My parents met in university, but while I never made it to college, I've still made myself a career in something I never went to school for. I have no higher education in arts past high school art classes. I am a full-time professional in something I taught myself, working with a script I also wrote myself without any guidance past brief googling.

That being said, I can't read an analog clock. I've learned how to do a lot of things in my life, but that's the one thing I can't fucking do. You can show me a clock face and I won't know what it means. If I can't look at my phone and there's nothing with a digital clock available, I've learned tricks on how to get people to tell me the time without admitting that I can't read it. Like asking someone if they think the clock on the wall is on time, prompting them to look at their own clock and tell me what their clock says. Pointedly looking at the clock and remarking to people that We Have Plenty Of Time, and assessing from their reactions whether that is true or if I was sarcastic. I never learned to read a clock face, but I've learned plenty of ways to get people to read it to me.

And every single time I tell people I can't read a clock face, they start trying to explain it to me. Like look. I'm 29. You do not know any method to explain it that I would never have encountered in the past 20 years. None of them sunk. I've tried until I cried and I still can't do it. I could learn to translate poetry from french, how to put together a car engine, or how to skin a llama, but that is the one thing I cannot do. I do not know what the positions of the arrows pointing at numbers mean, and you can't make me.

[nitewrighter]

Hi, I’m studying to get my associates in library tech with the goal of becoming a children’s librarian. Is there anything that you wish you knew before becoming a librarian?

Well it's tough to say for sure because I had been working as a library assistant for a long time before I got my master's, so I actually did have a lot of 'on the ground' experience in libraries, albeit in a very immediate, lower-skilled customer service sense.

I would say, on a "librarian as a whole" level, try to get as much hands-on experience in programming development and assisting with programming as you can--a major part of advancing your career as a librarian (at least as a public librarian) is being able to plan and implement programming, and also evaluate the success of that programming, and while I got a lot of experience with that in theory in Library school, it wasn't something I really bothered with as a library assistant because I felt too intimidated by it and I felt it "wasn't my place"--even though it's absolutely something I'd have to do as a librarian. And it's something they ask you about at EVERY interview for Librarian positions! If I could go back in time, I'd go back to 2018 and thwack myself with a newspaper to tell me to elbow my way into more programming development--because there ARE openings for it! Libraries ARE always looking for fresh ideas for programming, and one day, I WILL get my Makerspace Cosplay Workshop For Teens idea launched, goddammit!!

On a more "Children's Librarian Specific" level, I realize I talk a lot on this blog about like... the basic thesis that Children Are Indeed People. And I realize in that last ask I got that I was complaining a lot about parents basically using library space as a space to shut down and recover--often at the expense of the space, or sometimes even at the risk of their children. But I do think in terms of like... practicality, respect, and humility, that you as a librarian have to acknowledge that these parents are caring for their kids 24/7 and a lot of the time, for all your dreams of "Youth Liberation!!!" they will, generally, know their kids' triggers and patterns of behavior better than you, Cool Youth Liberator Librarian, ever will. I'm gonna use an example I call the "Give a Mouse a Cookie" story:

So we have coloring sheets and crayons at our children's desk, right? And this little girl comes up to the desk asking for a coloring sheet and I'm like, "oh, okay, we have a puppy coloring sheet?" and she's like, "No, I want the kitty." And her parents are going, "Sweetie, just get the puppy, we need to leave," and I'm like, "Oh, I can just print out some kitty coloring sheets. It's not a big deal. It looks like we're running low anyways." So I print out a bunch of kitty coloring sheets, hand her the first warm-out-of-the-printer kitty, and she starts melting down, because it wasn't just a kitty coloring sheet she wanted, it was a Unicorn Kitty Coloring sheet (except she's like 4 or 5 so it's not really fair to act like she could articulate that), and this is where the story gets stupid, because I'm like, "Oh. Here." and I draw a unicorn horn on the kitty--and like, I need you to understand that this is me going off of babysitting experience where I'm used to little kids being psyched at me drawing something especially for them. And this would provide an immediate 15 second solution rather than however long it would take me to track down the unicorn kitty coloring sheet she wanted through our coloring sheet database and then send that to the printer. And like, I know how to draw a horn so that it meshes decently enough with the coloring sheet's art style. LIKE IT MESHED WITH THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE CAT'S HEAD. But still, the meltdown intensifies because that's not the unicorn cat that other kids were coloring. How dare I slap a horn on this regular-ass cat and try to tell her it's a unicorn cat?!?!? So finally her parents just go, "She needs a nap" and drag her off. I told this story to my brother and he went, "Oh yeah. You gave a mouse a cookie."

Like, yeah, there is something very rewarding in validating a kid's desires and meeting their needs just like you would any adult patron. I love that little flare of 'Yes! I did the thing! I asked the lady where the InvestiGators books were, and she showed me!" I love seeing kids light up when you take them to the nonfiction section they ask for and then you help them leaf through it for the right book for their desired content and reading level, but also... sometimes it's not about the unicorn kitty, and you have to be able to trust when the parents are picking up on that and be able to put up a united front. It's kind of like when you start getting caught up in your own anger, and you have to ask yourself, "Am I letting this burn out, or am I adding oxygen to the fire?" There is so much going on under the hood with kids! So much is happening! Developing brains and very little experience are a helluva drug! You do want to fight for and encourage the kid's agency and value when you can, but also they're part of a family! And families have their own unique dynamics and needs! Growing up and having to negotiate your wants and needs with everyone around you is a trauma in and of itself!

[michirukaioureincarnate]

You know, with discussions of Neil Gaiman and all the disappoinment that's followed, especially of his admirers that are struggling with him not being the basic decent human being we expected and believed him to be, there's a lot of inner reflection that needs to be done to prevent more heart ache.

Not only that, but this is a wake up call to stop putting human beings on a pedestal. No one is above causing harm. Not you, not your mom, not anyone. Especially men. I don't know if this is just my way of thinking, but every single man is a potential s*x *ff*nd*r.

It's not a generaliziation, but an indisputable pattern after years of social, biological, political, and systemic conditioning. It's not a matter of if, but when, and sometimes the when never comes because the man luckily dies without tainting his slate. And if he does commit the crime, he's more likely to get away with it than his victim ever is of healing from it. The richer he is, the easier it is, but even men without power and resources get off with a slap on the wrist.

But that isn't really the point, and bear with me as I try to articulate myself through the nausea I'm feeling since stumbling upon the recent news. If you're hurt, disappointed, confused, and struggling with it because you have so much love for this man and his works: good.

You're not brushing it off. You're not acting like it's okay. If you're finding ways to justify your love for his art amidst the small voice of guilt in your chest, it's because you're a human being who, at your core, acknowledges that you don't agree with what he did. If there's an iota of fear that you may harbor the same negative qualities he does that compelled him to act so heinously, no you don't.

Before Gaiman was ousted as a predator, you knew him as a creative, a visionary, whatever positive perspective you had of him, and you wanted to admire that. Undeniably, Gaiman's a wonderful storyteller AND a s*x *ff*nd*r. The latter doesn't negate the former. But it's possible that it may have dictated some of his creative choices.

But how would you know which ones? You're not him, and you're someone who is self-aware and accountable enough to not do what he did when he hurt someone.

On that note: you are not him. You don't know him personally, neither does he know you personally. There's nothing to defend about him, because he's not yours to defend. His works aren't yours to defend.

That's his job.

Have some emotional boundaries and decenter yourselves from his life so that you're able to swallow the truth of the matter: that Gaiman's hurt real people who have to live with lifelong emotional and even physcial scars.

His actions have nothing to do with you as a fan or admirer, and the least you can do is withdraw your support until he, by some miracle, proves himself innocent and regains your trust.

YOU, as the consumer, are the prize here, not him. Have some standards for yourselves, my goodness. YOU, as a human being, are a completely separate entity from him and his actions. Gaiman would be nothing without those who actively decided on giving his works a shot.

And his ideas, whether you decide to continue consuming them or not, do not completely belong to him. Artists channel inspirations of life as they go through it, inspired by people they meet and events that happen to them, most of these things being external factors that are open to interpretation regardless of the artist's internal perspective that they present it with.

What you should worry about is if your money is going directly to him and his team, which may be used to suppress the victim's voices and provide him an unfair advantage in the matter. This is something that's still in your control more than anything else. Hell, pirate his stuff and consume it in secret if you really can't let go of it.

The conversations around "separating the art and artist" are important, and I personally don't believe in separating them at all, but a more immediate concern is to stop contributing to the artist through their art as soon as something concerning crops up. He's a business man, and you're his investors. Take your space. Breathe. Rationalize. And let his social stock value plummet, jfc, he'll still survive without your money and adoration. As long as you're not directly contributing to his ability to inflict more harm, allow yourself the space to grieve.

And, please, you're your own person. If anything, you're probably going to be the next writer, director, artist, etc who creates stuff that's on par with his or even better. Only difference will be that you won't be someone who actively hurts people.

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 6

Art... and more! gird your loins, people! hold onto thy merkins! if i can pull it off, this should hopefully be the last fluff chapter before shit gets kicked to high gear. ao3! ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

My Head Is An Animal

Johnny’s career is rapidly expanding.

The art fair had helped make Johnny excited about making art again. That, combined with the compliments you had so freely given to him yesterday and a new round of about twenty orders has him ecstatic about maintaining his storefront.

Enough time has elapsed that the first person who made the first order Johnny ever shipped had written a review- perhaps making it fancier than it needed to be when they saw how barren Johnny’s Etsy page was, but that didn’t exactly matter. Not when they had raved about how you could feel emotions behind every pen stroke! Or how they went and bought a frame for the small piece of paper! Or how it was probably hung in the reviewer’s art gallery!

It was nearly enough to make Johnny print the review out and paste it on a wall somewhere if he was being honest.

The Etsy soon turns into a TikTok page he pesters Simon into helping him set up once the storefront has gained enough traction to warrant it.

Things happen, and somehow the TikTok account gains half a million followers. Somehow, someway, Johnny finds himself in a community within Tiktok. It happens suddenly with duets and slideshows(Simon thinks, at least). Still, Johnny is soon reporting back about online friends, art trades, and after a while, being invited to local art fairs after being sniffed out by organizers, even.

Johnny is very much excited. He’s getting busier and busier, and though Simon doesn’t enjoy his time away from home, it is good for both of them, he thinks. Something to focus on. And brings back a decent amount of money, too.

You’re obviously invited to the art fairs Johnny gets stalls at. Johnny’s always over the moon to see you and sneaks free trinkets- like a bookmark or postcard- into your bag when he’s sure you’re not looking. Of course, this earns him a stern talking to when you notice, but your worries are easily quarried by puppy eyes and matching pout; “but Ae wanted to give you sa’thing, bon?”, he’s said before, and it doesn’t take very long for your resolve to crumble again. Sure, you could have argued that you could have bought it yourself, but you know that would only be matched with an offended glare from Johnny.

Truth be told, Johnny’s becoming really rather fond of you. Simon as well- such as when you had come to the third art fair Johnny showed at and had gotten lost after leaving Johnny’s booth. You’d gotten turned around a lot and were just about to ask someone when Simon caught your shoulder. He had called you a few times and when you didn’t answer, he went to find you. He corrals you back with the gentleness a shepherd must have with a lamb.

You’re starting to notice that Johnny has really started to take off. He’s gone to café’s and art podcasts and presentations at colleges and now cons and he has even been invited onto live stream with other art content creators on TikTok that he can now solidly call his friends. He gets along with them well and is even able to make meaningful friendships. For example, he meets a man who makes beautiful knitted mixed media work named Sammy who’s nothing short of a sweetheart to Johnny, talking to him via DMS and supplying him with inspiration when he gets stuck in a mood. Sammy is there, talking to him in his silly American accent and showing him the new knitted beanie he made out of recycled plastic bags for his 60-pound Maine Coon cat.

Then there’s Gloria, a cross stitcher. She’s well into her years, with her TikTok account being run by her great-grandson who kept her young with his quips and jokes. She quickly establishes herself by cursing like a sailor when her grandson jokingly insults her works from over the years. She also makes quite a few phallic pieces which, to no one’s surprise, the grandson rather likes. She’s so charming to Johnny because she sort of feels like his grandmammy.

Gloria reassures and encourages Johnny about his artwork over calls, which her great-grandson sets up and orchestrates because there's no way Gloria’s little arthritis-stricken claws would be able to navigate modern technology.

Simon likes his new online friends, too. Simon has become a staple in Johnny’s fanbase’s culture and his livestreams, oftentimes poking in to say hi or leave a coffee while Johnny draws on stream. He becomes prominent; it's easy to say that his fanbase adores the two of them especially when they get to hear their backstory, learning about how they met. It's enough to make him even more endearing to the public eye.

Life’s going awesome for him. He’s been going to art fairs in the area every other week, and even though fall is rapidly approaching, he's never been in better spirits. The cool weather usually means Johnny stops making art for a while because the warm weather helps keep him springy and stops his bad elbow joints from aching terribly. Now, he feels more than willing to tough it out.

Life just gets better when a rather large creator on the platform, someone named Jessica Johnson, invites him to an ‘ArtTok Conference’ about 50 miles away from Johnny and Simon’s flat in Manchester, so they plan to pack themselves up for the week with the dog. The venue itself is beautiful, all natural light, sleek marble and wood, and Johnny’s there to talk on a few panels to fans and do some live art as an installation; he’s going to be paid for his work, to just sit down in the gardens of the venue with Riley and do his art stuff while people walk around and observe and enjoy his art. He’d do it for free, honestly.

After he accepts the offer, he starts packing after he tells you, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him. His cheeks are glowing and his smile lines have just become more defined as he's grown with his online career. When he announces that he’ll be at the con later that month, his Etsy shop completely sells out.

When the conference starts, Simon is attentive, caring and comforting. When Johnny gets ready for the first panel, Simon helps him steam the shirt he's gonna wear on the panel. When Johnny is signing prints at an M&G and his pen suddenly craps out, Simon’s there with an extra. When Johnny does his first day of sitting in the gardens and drawing, Simon stays with him, just standing there until one of the staff members brings him a chair. At the end of the first day, when Johnny face plants into the hotel room’s bed, Simon is quick to work out the knots from Johnny’s back. 

Johnny, if he’s being honest, is still a little sad that you weren’t able to make it, what with it being held in the middle of the work week and being an hour’s drive. You’re apologetic, of course, but he knows better than to be hurt terribly.  He feels better when you leave comments on all of the clips that he posts on his TikTok, and you still text whenever you can. He’s happy to be at the con and he’s thoroughly enjoying it, too. Simon’s like his own support system, leaving the conference building for coffee and bagels, and during the con, he’s like his own attraction at Johnny’s stall. People who don’t know Johnny are allured over by the six-foot-something man with the happiest-looking service dog ever and usually end up buying one of the many prints of Riley Johnny has done before.

Later in the week, he gets a panel all to himself where he talks about his charcoal art and how he made his style. Surprisingly, there’s a large turnout. He thought that nobody would want to listen to him ramble about the art he’s been making since high school or, even less, talk to him about his art. After the panel and a lengthy M&G, he starts planning when he’s going to release more things on his Etsy shop, just from how many of his prints he signed in less than three hours. In the time he has between panels and his live art installation, he finds himself doing thumbnails, just as an outlet for all the excess creative energy he has. It’s so fulfilling to see something he’s only ever seen something as a hobby grow into a whole community of his own, grow into a career and a plausible one at that.

Still, like all good things, the con comes to an end. He finishes the live art installation and then he and Simon say their goodbyes before making their way back home. Back to you.

In the space between, everything moves on in a peaceful sort of bliss. He’s restocking the Etsy regularly now, because of how much demand has ramped up. The art fairs are slowing as the cool weather sets in and he goes to his last one right as you get some free time, so it’s perfect timing for a little catch-up outing.

You get dinner at the art fair together, eating traditionally made pasta dyed colourful colours by plants while Johnny tells you everything about his time at the con. It just makes you sad that you missed it, just from how *happy* he sounds from the… Well, everything. He shows you pictures with fans and the highlight reels said fans made of his panels and endearing videos littered over his TikTok feed. You’re fully caught up in no time.

You’ve just finished dinner when Johnny gets the invitation. Johnny looks down at his phone while both you and Simon are engaged in conversation while he stares down at his screen. Then he gasps; loud and cartoonish.

“Ae- Ae go’ invited to a residency! In a gallery! Holy *hells*-“ he says, before a long and very animated string of curses as he finishes the email.

“Residency?” Simon asks.

“Gallery?” You ask.

“Yes!” Johnny says. “Oh, bleedin’ Mary. Look!” He says before he shoves his phone screen in your face, before passing it to Simon.

And, for the first time ever, you hear Simon laugh. It’s husky, like a smoker’s, but it’s endearing in a way. He wraps his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and kisses his temples.

“Yeah, I think this counts for another.” He says, flagging down the waiters for another round of drinks.

<- back next ->

[slimyalienfreak]

Can we have nsfw hcs of deimos giving s/o a slap or a squeeze on the butt (bc he a perv)

Not really hc more like a oneshot

They were gonna do a mission and then he just noticed how thicc she was

Deimos NSFW Oneshot

Hey thanks for the ask!

Sorry for the long wait this my first nsfw request that I’ve done so I tried my best to make sure it look decent enough and not weird in a way. But regardless of that I hope you like this. ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned (Reader is referenced to be female/afab)

Warning: ⚠️NSFW/Smut Content Ahead: If You Are A Minor Or Uncomfortable With This Stuff Don’t Interact/Read This.⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Deimos + 2BDamned

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by ??? (Edited by d3v1_lolz on Pinterest) + Banner by nessiehir (Edited By Me) on Pinterest

———————————

“Alright [Name], are you sure you're able to handle this?” 2BDamned asked you as he slid the files which contained the information about your current mission across the table separating the both of you. You picked up the file quickly looking over the content before placing it back on the table “Of course I can. You can trust me 2BDamned!” You gave him a thumbs up “Don’t worry I trust you [Name] it’s your partner I’m worried about.” He sighed as he crossed his arms leaning further back in his chair. You see he thought it would be a great idea to pair you up with Deimos, why? He honestly doesn’t know but you two oddly enough get the job done in your own way and this mission seemed to require both of you so he doesn’t really have a choice but to send the both of you. You didn’t really mind it though you actually liked being around him, the two of you get along really well sometimes too well but who cares about that. As long as you two are together it seems like whatever the two of you do goes by quickly. “Just make sure to keep him in check during this mission, alright?” “Okay I will.” You gave him a smile to which he gave you a nod in return. Once you left 2BDamned’s room you went up to Deimos and told him about the mission set for the both of you. At first Deimos jokingly decided to make a slightly suggestive comment about the two of you being paired up. You started to notice that he would be making more and more suggestive comments recently. Well honestly you couldn’t really tell you just thought he was joking because you knew what Deimos was like. He was a tease. You’ve pretty much gotten used to his behaviour ever since the two of you first met. So with a chuckle you dismissed his comment and told him to get prepared so you two can head to the location. He gave off a hearty laugh and said that he will. Eventually the two of you got prepared and headed off to the location.

“So all we have to do is find that person and end them? Sounds easy to me.” Deimos chuckled to himself leaning against the car seat while lighting a cigarette for himself trying to keep the car ride to the place less boring “yeah it may sound easy but that place has top security so we’re going to either get rid of the guards or find a place that somehow doesn’t have any security and enter through there.” You explained to him keeping your eyes on the road as you held on the steering wheel. You were expecting some quick witted response but surprisingly there was silence coming from his end. “Hey Deimos, are you listening?” You looked over to him wondering what he was doing before releasing he was staring at you. More specifically at your body. As soon as you noticed this you immediately waved a hand in front of him snapping him out of his trance like state “hey Deimos, did you hear what I said?” Deimos quickly moved his eyes off of your body before awkwardly looking at the road. Trying to play off that he totally wasn’t staring you down “yeah yeah I hear ya, don’t worry yourself I know what to do” he said letting a slight chuckle out of embarrassment to which you sighed to yourself “alright just try and not get caught okay?” You warned him as he gave you a nod in return. Shortly enough you two managed to get to the location without being spotted so far. You two immediately prepared for whatever was in store for the two of you.

Eventually some time passes. Both you and Deimos managed to get through most of the enemies so far but much to both yours and his dismay the area you two were currently at was packed full of agents ready to fight someone who happens to be in the same eyesight as them to which you quietly expressed your feelings “shit…there’s too many of them Deimos, we need to change our plan.” You whispered to him so the agents wouldn’t hear you. You peaked around the corner trying to figure out how many agents there were and the best way to get rid of them or at least avoid them. However, something managed to snap you out of your thoughts. You started to feel a hand on your ass before being followed by a squeeze. You turned around slightly shocked to see Deimos close towards you. Very close towards you “Deimos…what the-” before you could finish your sentence Deimos placed his finger over your mouth using as a way to wish you “don’t worry yourself doll I’m not going to go to rough on ya” he said with a slight smirk on his face to which you couldn’t help but have a slight tint of red on your cheeks. You feel his hand inspecting every part of your ass like he was taking note of it “I know you're probably sick of hearing me say this but you look really good, especially right now when you're trying to do your job” he complimented you but you could tell that this one was different. It sounded like he actually means this compliment unlike the previous ones that he may or may not have said as a joke. This was made more apparent when he continued to press himself on you to which you started to question his motives. ‘Is he seriously planning on doing what I think he is?’ You thought to yourself before speaking up “Deimos…please don’t tell me you want to do it right here right now?” You asked him in a whispered tone to which he gave you another smirk in return, this told you everything that you needed to know. He was seriously planning on doing it. “We can’t! We’re on a mission and plus there’s a bunch of people near this area, what if they hear us?” You said in a slightly panicked tone “don’t worry about them [Name], we can keep quiet right?” He said in a teasing tone as he moved his hand from where it was inside your pants, easily getting past both the waistband of your pants and undergarments getting dangerously close towards your pelvis “and if we do just so happen to grab their attention then we can teach those perverts a lesson” he ironically said despite acting like one himself. Without further thought Deimos decided to get a little more frisky and move his fingers further down until he reached your clit immediately getting a slight groan out of your mouth. As soon as he has his hand in the right place he starts to slowly tease both your entrance and clit. Slowly circling, sliding his fingers inside of you before pulling out. “God…Deimos” you moaned out before quickly placing a hand over your mouth “feels good doesn’t it?” He teased once again before continuing the circling pattern keeping an arm around your waist “let’s just have a quick session and then we can get back to the mission, who knows by the time we are done they might have left.” He said trying to convince you to let him continue and to be honest now that he has riled you up you were thinking of letting him do it. So you decided to say screw it and let him do it. You placed one hand on a nearby surface keeping the other on your mouth to make sure you don’t get too loud.

Immediately sensing your cooperation he quickly picked up the pace causing a wave of pleasure to flow through your body. “You like this huh?” Deimos said, his tone clearly being filled with lust as he continues to play with your clit. You gave him a nod as you did your best to not get the attention of anyone who passes by with the sound of your moans. But with how Deimos was currently acting trying his best to rile you up even more it was starting to become hard even for you, someone who has pretty much gotten used to his antics by now. You started to lean forward on the surface you other hand was currently on, putting most of your weight on it. You could feel your eyes closing as you let your body indulge in the pleasure flowing through your body from top to bottom. This only excited Deimos ever more. Seeing you willingly give your body to him made him feel things he never thought he would feel but here he was experiencing those feelings. “You look really hot like this [Name]. Trying to keep quiet while I use my fingers to fuck you.” He whispered into your ear as he moved his fingers further down and slipped them inside you. Curling his fingers making them hit every spot as he moved them in and out of you. Everytime you hear him whisper those types of words into your ear you couldn’t help but get more turned on by the second. It was like he knew which buttons to press in order to make you like this. His fingers were going deeper and deeper inside you making it harder to hold on any longer. “Deimos keep going” you panted out signaling to him that you were closer to which he noticed. “You're almost there?” He sensed your upcoming climax and was more than happy to give it to you. You gave him a nod to which he quickened his pace with his fingers “go ahead [Name], cum for me” he seductively whispered into your ear, resting his head on your shoulder. Eventually he managed to bring you to that point, you pressed your hand once again against your mouth as you came on his fingers. A few moans slipped out as you felt your legs slightly tremble before you managed to compose yourself. Deimos slowly but surely slowed down his pace before stopping, giving you a bit to calm down from your climax and eventually pulling his fingers out of you. “You alright there?” He asked making yourself that you were okay “yeah I’m fine just give me a second” you replied back managing to catch your breath before fixing your clothes to which Deimos helped you before looking out to see if the agents had left “See if told you they’d left” he said with a smirk to which you gave off a slight chuckle in response “oh shut up, let’s just focus on getting back on mission you said we could do that after a quick session right?” “Alright alright let’s go” he said, getting both his and yours weapons before returning back on mission like intended.

———————————

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

I’ve kinda already written about this before with the college AU I started a while ago but I have a mighty need for a life drawing workshop with Ghost and Soap.

Like maybe Soap runs some classes in a local bar venue space or something and he puts out ads every so often for models. Ghost meanwhile is discharged from the army with a shitty shoulder injury and no where to go. After going for a pint with Gaz to commiserate, and drown their shared sorrows of having to leave army life, Gaz tells Ghost about a new side hustle he has going ever since he’d had to leave months prior.

Ghost snorts out a laugh at first “are you bloody joking? You. A life model?”

Gaz pretends not to get too offended, but rolls his eyes and take a drink.

“It’s not as weird as you think. You stand in a couple different poses-“

“With your kit off,” Ghost chuckles.

“Yes, with your kit off,” Gaz huffs. “You get told how to stand and what props to use and then a bunch of people draw you for a couple hours. It’s totally painless and you get decent dosh for it. I do Soap’s class twice a month and Alex’s class three times - it’s easy money, plus it’s cash in hand so HMRC don’t have to be any the wiser bout it.”

“Hang on a minute, Soap?” Ghost says, shaking his head. “What kind of a name is Soap? He gives you props as well? What next, does he ask you to dance for him too? Give ‘im the old dazzle dazzle, do you?”

“Fuck off Ghost.”

“Aw, im only messing. ‘Sides even if I wanted to do little poses for your art class, I wouldn’t be able to. My shoulder’s buggered remember? I wouldn’t be able to hold a lot of positions for long.”

“Soap’s pretty understanding. He can pick poses that suit your body and he can adjust the times so that you don’t have to stay still too long if you can’t take it. You just have to tell him about your injury and he’ll be understanding.”

Ghost shook his head again and took another gulp.

“Fuckin’ Soap.”

“He’s an eccentric guy, but he’s cool,” Gaz shrugs. “Do you want me to speak to him for you? He’s usually on the lookout for new models.”

Ghost would say he’d need to take some time to think about it, but Gaz would take that as a yes. So a few days roll by and soon enough Ghost gets a text through telling him that Soap would be ‘well up’ for meeting him and said he should come by the next evening before class.

Ghost - I told you I’d think about it, you twat. Not to go on ahead and tell him I wanna join his little cult.

Gaz - show up or don’t, you can think about it all you like between now and then. You’ll thank me later 🤪

After that last text Gaz then sent him a picture of a wad of cash and few coins spread out over a blotted bar top. Ghost would sigh, but as soon as he saw that money he knew his decision was made. He needed something until he was able to figure out what to do with the rest of his life, something to tide him over till he received payments for his injury.

He’d turn up for Soap’s class with a flustered air around him and would step through the shadowy doorway to the bar with soft unsure steps. It was still early, there wouldn’t be many people inside. He’d ask the barman where the function room was and sullenly walk through the curtain, raising his brows when he’d finally lay eyes on Soap.

Ghost wouldn’t know what to expect but it’s not the mohawked barrel of a man that’s lugging chairs around the room and running around like a little worker ant. His eyes would linger on the muscles that were exposed from Soap’s paint and charcoal stained tank top and he’d watch on wordlessly, widening his eyes when Soap would finally notice him. He’d dig his nails into his palms to try to stop himself from blushing in embarrassment.

“You’re a bit early for the class’ mate,” Soap would huff, settling another chair around the raised stage. “Looking to join?”

“Uh sort of,” Ghost would say, frowning as he struggled to find words around the bodybuilder/artist. “My friend Gaz, uh Kyle you probably know him as - he said you were looking for more models and that I should come by…”

Soap’s eyes would light in recognition and he’d smile warmly, striding over to greet Ghost properly. Ghost wouldn’t be prepared for the warm grip in Ghost’s handshake and he especiallly wasn’t prepared for those big blue crystalline eyes to be roaming over him as if they were mentally taking him apart.

“Simon right?” Soap would say, revealing a perfect white grin. “I’m Soap, John’s my name, but I prefer Soap so you can go with that, yeah? Kyle mentioned you had a shoulder injury and that you weren’t sure you could hold certain poses.”

Ghost would straighten up then and nod, pointing out which one it was. From then Soap would take him through a few positions and would discuss the technicalities with him, were Ghost to join. Apparently it was easy to make accommodations for him, and Soap would be more than pleased to have him as a model, and like Kyle had already mentioned, the pay was pretty good.

Ghost would grow interested the more he would hear and eventually Soap would wear him down enough into taking him through a few practice ones. They would be relatively easy, and Ghost would find himself realising that Gaz was right - it was easy money. Plus Soap was no bad company either.

He’d be convinced into watching the class that night and getting to have a little taster of what he would be doing. The model that night would be a tiny little thing, a dancer, and would hold the most intricate stances for the eager artists to draw, contorting themselves into pretzel like shapes that Ghost couldn’t possibly hold. They’d capture his attention for a minute, but Ghost would always find himself staring at Soap right after.

He’d watch the way he directed the model, stroking the air to dictate how he wanted them and guiding them gently into form all without physically touching. He’d encourage the artists, complimenting a few people, and helping anyone that needed guidance. His favourite would be when the others would fall silent and Soap would take to gathering himself a pencil and paper and drawing for a little bit. The immense concentration, the way he’d clench his jaw and narrow his eyes would be so captivating and there was nothing that could stop Ghost looking away. Nothing that could stop him from wondering what it would be like having Soap’s eyes on him like that.

As it turns out it would almost steal all the breath from his lungs. Ghost would be sitting on that same stage the next week, stone faced and gritting his teeth through the slight chill in the air. He’d be used to resisting the cold, though he wouldn’t be used to all the eyes on his naked body, most of all Soap’s as his furrowed brow stayed glued to him. Ghost would swear that Soap could read his thoughts, could strip his mind just as easily as his body and he would know that Ghost was developing a stupid obsession with him (he’d refuse to think of it as a crush).

He’d look purposely look away on the next pose and would still feel Soap’s eyes on him still. They’d warm a path from the bones at his collar, all the way down the ridges of his pecs and right down to the pit of his belly. Butterflies would dance where his empty stomach should have been.

He’d love and hate it in equal measure, barely feeling the eyes of Soap’s gaggle of students because of the intensity of their teacher, but he would still show up again the next week and the next after that. Just hoping that maybe one night it wouldn’t be his own hands pulling the cord on his robe, perhaps he could embrace a pair covered in charcoal and graphite and entice them to touch instead of trace the air. He’d want to break through Soap’s page and show him new colours, tear the world as he knew it apart in only the way that Ghost could.