everyone should attempt an artisan craft at some point in their life because it would cut down the number of comments questioning why handmade goods like ceramics or textile craft or woodworking are so expensive
and this is an unrealistic expectation, but I think the attempt should include seeing through to the end at least one "finished" item, no matter how clumsy or lumpy your first attempts might be. like to me, there's a huge difference in perspective between attempting to learn how to crochet or throw a pot for a few days, acknowledging that it's harder than it looks and giving up, versus committing to finishing that scarf or clay pot you started and working on it for weeks while you painstakingly learn from your mistakes and grow attached to your project while also simultaneously hating it.
once you finish the latter, your perspective changes from "why does this crocheted blanket cost $200" to "holy shit I can't believe they're charging $200 for this crocheted blanket instead of $2000" because you may have known crocheting is hard, you may have easily agreed with the idea that "handmade goods take time and effort" even before attempting a craft, but now you know firsthand the absolute time sink it takes to make things. like yeah dude, that one item took you 2 months to make and probably wasn't even an ultra complex item if it was the first thing you made, now imagine attaching an hourly wage to that time to calculate the cost (and this is ignoring every nuance of the artistic element and master crafters being able to work faster/charge higher because of their years and years of experience)
anyway this rant has been motivated by a comment I saw on someone else's ceramic post asking why a mug was $60 and they understand it's handmade but $60 just seems overpriced, and bro do you know how long ceramics take to make. that mug probably took at minimum 3 weeks between how long it takes to throw the mug, dry partially, trim the mug, dry fully, bisque fire, wait a day for the kiln to cool, sand and paint and glaze, glaze fire, wait a day for the kiln to cool, take product photography of the mug, write description and list the mug online for sale, im not even including the skill needed to complete all these steps without the mug literally exploding or collapsing while also making it an appealing piece of art, aaaaaaaaaaaaa
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18+ mdni; fem!reader
wolf!yuuta kneeling in front of you a second after you step inside your shared apartment bc he's missed you so fucking much. he paws at your thighs as if he's a puppy and not a fucking wolf, who could easily devour you if he so desired. but here he is, staring up at you like he's completely at your mercy (he is).
you pat his head and he leans into your touch, his eyes falling shut as he inhales your scent. fuck, he really did miss you... it's so sweet, it's so addicting – he doesn't say he fucked your pillow just a few hours prior because he just couldn't take it anymore. your dirty underwear smells good but it's nothing compared to what he has in front of him now, only mere inches from his so very sensitive nose. oh, how he wants to to just shove his face into your crotch and inhale like it's his last breath of air, but he can't.. he has to be behave. he can't be too haste, it's rude.
and you deserve better than that.
so, he forces down his innate need to pin you down under him right then and there, he forces down the need to sniff and lick, to eat you out until you're crying out from overstimulation, begging for him to stop because it's just too much. the scratch marks you'd leave on his cheeks wouldn't faze him at all, if anything they'd be a sign that he's doing his job well.
"yuu.. ?"
he snaps out of his little daydream, your voice cradling his mind like a soft cloud of pure sweetness. he meets your gaze and gives you a reassuring smile, letting you know that he's here. that he's ready to serve you.
he'll get to play out his fantasies later.
but now, he'll just help you get all cozy. he'll feed you and clean you and make sure you're all taken care of before sinking his sharp teeth into you as a reward for being so good for you.
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Hiding the rest of this HUGE comic behind a readmore for ur sanity
Hes got the keenest eye for these things!
Now that this is hiding behind a readmore i can justify writing an essay in here. Nothing big tho i am just very chatty :)!
Postgame where Peppino still gets visits every now and again from the bosses of the tower. I already drew one for the noise (lmao) but i wanted to draw each of the main four interacting with him in some way.
Pepperman is a refined and well renowned artist. His art is highly sought after and his advice is not taken lightly. He has many MANY fortunes to pull from to make his visions a reality and to influence anyone to do anything. Except for Peppino.
From the very first fight, Pepperman is immediately, overwhelmingly obsessed with this stout little brawler. He is much much more than what meets the eyes. He is initially extremely offput and annoyed that a human so boldly decided to waltz into his domain, and he expects to be able to steamroll and bully this…beast…out of his place of work. He is refined when he wants to be, but he is quick to use his brute strength to get what he wants if only bc he knows he can do it
And so when he decides to fully charge and thrash this little trembling human, expecting him to skitter away the second he gets struck, he is completely unprepared for when he gets launched to the other end of this room. The human looks so incredibly PISSED, like a bull seeing red, and suddenly this little altercation suddenly became a real actual ‘knock your teeth out’ brawl. This human is only like half his height, but his punches and bashes fucking knock the wind out of him.
And like ! To add insult to injury!!! After he wins the fight! He visibly deflates, the adrenaline seemingly wearing off. Hes just this trembling fuckin whelp again !!! Whimpering as he fucking runs back out through the portal to do god knows what. And Pepperman could not be any more fucking intrigued. Like this no name came in, whooped his fuckin ass, and went about his day. Its unreal
While Peppino is running around climbing the tower, Pepperman is in his room losing his mind. Hes obsessed. No one has challenged him in this way. No one has fought him and WON. He is ALWAYS able to bully people into submission either through brute force or with money, and he got his ass handed to him !! He needs to know more. Its quite literally consuming him.
Cut to the final fight, set up for a rematch; and he knows he is going to get steamrolled again but it is SO exhilarating to get another chance to see this humans form up close again. This time he can try to commit everything to memory. Its all such a blur though, and in a quarter of the time it took to end their first fight, its over. He gets to watch the human fight the gunslinger with his bare hands, no gun necessary, and he doesnt even bat an eye at what looks to be a clone of himself. He is a force of nature tearing through every single defense, and when Pepperman watches the actual final fight with the bizarre little pizza man, its like hes caught in a movie. The rain, the storm, the atmosphere. He wishes he could burn the entire scene into his mind.
So when everything returns to normal, he takes the time to travel for days to come and find this little human named Peppino. The memory is still strong and vivid but eventually, details will start to slip his mind. He needs to find this human, convince him to sit and do some still life sessions with him to help cement the humans appearance in his head. He hasnt had to resort to…asking for permission for anything in a loooong time…he bullies people into doing what he wants but Peppino is not your average person, and if he wants something from this man, he’ll have to meet him at his level.
He...can make an exception for Peppino...he supposes.
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HMMMMMM interesting to think about arranged marriage with prince shouto...............
i think he wouldn't know. what to expect with you. i think he'd have an idea, as in, what his father, the king, has taught him; the duties of a wife, where your importance ranks in relation to his duties. what he's not meant to discuss with you, like politics and matters at court and foreign relations. how you will speak to him. what to buy in the event that you become...unhappy. a nuisance.
("and she will," enji had muttered, briefly glancing up from the parchment on his desk to fix shouto with a look he didn't understand. "they always do.")
you don't meet until the royal wedding, when you're coming down the long aisle of the grand cathedral, dressed up in a swathe of silk and lace. a thin, gossamer veil hides you from him, but he can feel the ardor in your eyes, the intensity burning through the material. it doesn't seem real until your bare face is only a breath from his own, until he has to see the earnestness in your stare, too.
your kiss is simple and chaste, nothing spectacular, something that leaves his mind as soon as it's over. ever a todoroki, a hundred other things enter his mind, all regarding his now iron-laid obligations: it's vital he meet with advisor keigo to reiterate the plan to establish his authority among the council; general aizawa is in attendance to the wedding, and shouto has not yet received word on his opinion of the new king's ideas to modernize their armed forces; midoriya is somewhere, no doubt wanting to go over state affairs again.
truthfully, shouto doesn't spend long "celebrating". there's already too much that's required of him, hardly enough time to even scarf down a few bites of the banquet laid out before he's being chartered off into discussions on foreign relations and infrastructure development. maybe once or twice does he look back to check on you, chatting pleasantly with his mother and sister at the front of the great hall, and that's satisfying enough.
it's not until much later that he sees you again; freshly bathed and wearing something sheer and long and white, atop his bed.
or his marriage bed, he must remind himself.
enji didn't spend long going over consummation, with him or either of his brothers—natsuo, red-faced and annoyed at the very subject, always storming off, and touya had seemed well-aware of the process, at the time (back before he'd been ex-communicated). it had sounded simple: strip off your dress, get his cock out and into you, and only retreat once he was sure his seed had been spilled.
—so he's not exactly sure what to do or think or how to feel, when you're laid bare and reaching up to hold his face.
it's so startling that he sits back on his knees, to frown where he's looming over you.
you stare at him quietly, like you're expecting him to say something, and he only has a moment to wonder if this is you becoming an unhappy nuisance—what had been the answer, to solve this, anyway?—before you let out a soft laugh.
"c'mere," you tell him, sitting up, too, when he keeps his distance. "i want you to kiss me."
"i already have."
"yes," you laugh again, amusement glowing in your eyes, like the warmth off the fireplace, as you reach for the ties on his trousers. "but you're meant to do it again."
and up until then, he'd felt confident in his achievements, his executions; he'd managed a lot today, in one evening, and he had a lifetime to manage more. it was a good a start as any, he'd thought, but now—
shouto almost can't get the words out when he feels your hands ghosting up the inside of his shirt, nails tickling over his ribs. "a-am i?"
you wrap your arms around his waist in what could be a hug, scooting forward to look up at him with your chin against his chest. "yes," you smile and—it's familiar in a way, how touya would whenever he was teasing. "you're my husband, you're meant to kiss me whenever i want."
that—was not something his father had ever said, he was sure, and it was a too-rare exchange between his own parents. now that he thinks about it—and he does, then, because he's faced with the reality that he doesn't know as much as he should—he's not sure the former king and queen even sleep in the same room, much less the same bed.
much less hug and touch and even smile, the way you do now.
there's no argument he can make against it, aside from finding keigo to find his father to verify the truth to such a statement, and he's only meant to retreat from this bed on one condition.
and if this is what it takes to meet that—then shouto supposes he'll have to do it, for now. he's a brand new king, after all, and it would seem he still has much to learn.
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I like to believe that the reason we never saw a Huntlow kiss/confession/anything of that sort and that it was left to subtext/everything we did get to see, was that it’s a parallel of how queer relationships are typically portrayed in media
How many times has the queer relationship been left to subtext, or confirmation after the fact, or restrictions from networks limits it to only hand holding/blushes, if that? While the straight relationships usually have no such restrictions?
Now the owl house can come here giving us all the queer confessions, kisses, hand holdings, confirmed marriages, everything we could want. And the straight relationship is left in “subtext”. Idk, it’s a weird poetic subversion of the trope and idk if it’s intentional or not, but I’m going to pretend it is and make the most out of the situation
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