#ultimately if you start mass liking my art after reading this please dont. im not intending on guilt tripping anyone here :')

[kogameh]

whenever i draw fanarts, the biggest satisfaction to me is when i was able to draw...an idea that is unique to the source material, something that i cant just simply recycle to ocs or any other fandoms, and especially, something fans of the source material can appreciate the most... its also something i knew i cant achieve with ocs. because at least with fanarts, at least someone get the context behind the art. i couldnt care less if im not drawing for a bigger or more popular fandom if i was able to share my love for something like this to the same people who love the source material as much as i do... im fully aware that my artstyle is not the most desirable. or the most social media-favored. or just anything thats worth being stared at anything for more than 5 minutes, haha. thats why i rarely post my doodles or rarely draw headshots because...i often find to look the most boring... but thats also why i really. tried really hard to get rid of my shortcomings by focusing more on the composition and "story" side of it over anything else. i tried. again. really hard to put my style in the backburner so the flaws of my unappealing style wont overshadow the "story" i wanted to tell in my art....

but yknow i just...feel like lately its all pointless hahaa...

so just when my mimi fanarts gets the most attention solely because it has mimi on it and not because of the art that i drew...im starting to ask...whats the point anymore if i even spend any extra time beyond just drawing the character. i might as well just draw the most soulless headshot or even stickman of the character and i'd guarantee it'll still get as much attention only because of the subject i drew. and the last important thing being...my art.... and this isnt just limited to one character or fandom, haha. every time any more replies to any of my art starts focusing on the subject over anything i put in the art, i knew that i failed to deliver the "story" i wanted to tell. at that point its starting to feel like...my art is nothing more than an accessory to a conversation starter. haha. i get it. my art isnt all that appealing. and my composition is still extremely amateur. but i guess no matter how much love and soul i tried to put in my art, it still doesnt matter if the subject is not creating any interesting conversation...

and its lately more and more apparent when i start to draw more oc artworks and obviously? theres less things to talk about now since theres 0 prior attachments existing with my ocs! :')

you could say that its mainly because im drawing for a small fandom. you could say its because i drew for a fandom where 90% of its contents is untranslated. but i just cant help but think...its simply because im still not good enough.....

i cant translate. im not fluent in any languages that isnt my mother tongue. im not the most talkative and hardly ever fit in any friend group. and every skills i have any inch of knowledge of is barely useful to anyone. and i know that i’ll never be remembered for anything. so i just....in the end, when i love something, the last i could do to say that "i love it" is to tell them with my art, despite its shortcomings and imperfections... but i guess thats...still not enough... to prove even that... :')

so just. haha. idk. even right now i kinda...lost all my motivation to draw. every single time i tried to i started to ask "is this even worth it?" and wonder if i shouldnt finish the art and put the bare minimum on it now, even if its gonna be the most soulless thing i've drawn. ultimately, a part of me just felt like i shouldve changed my priorities and focus starting this year. haha.

(and i'll just be real. if someones gonna say "draw for yourself!!! not for others!!!!" i would...rather not just post them at all to solve that. period. saves MUCH more of my time and anxiety if i just stopped posting them!!! :'))

i just. really dont know anymore...

[dontshouta]

elegant obscenities

summery: Your tattoo session which you’ve had scheduled for months has finally arrived and you finally get to meet the man everyone’s speaking so highly of. pairing: tattoo artist!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 3,799 note: modern au! also,, this is ns*fw so please… if ur not into that... just look away alsoalso, my tattoo knowledge is very limited.. im goin based on what ive seen on t.v or what ive read.. soo sorry if anythings wrong lol i dont have the heart to do extensive research on it atm but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

To say you were excited was a massive understatement. You felt like your heart was gonna burst from how quickly it was beating, your stomach felt like the den of a thousand butterflies, and yet you couldn’t wipe the huge smile plastered on your face.  Today, you were going to see what all the fuss was about. Today, you were getting your first tattoo from the King of Tattoos himself-- Bakugou Katsuki. Just the mere thought of it shot a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You’ve heard so many reviews on this guy, you’ve seen his beautiful works on yelp, you’ve seen the clean and cut format of the parlor’s website- he was no joke. Though, his reputation seemed flawless, people did seem to not like his attitude. But of course, that would be ultimately overlooked, his work was just that good. 

As excited you were, you were equally nervous. You didn’t know if you could sit through an hour session of what could possibly be him yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs. Or at least, that’s what some people have claimed to have happened. You wanted to remain optimistic though, and decided not showing up would be a waste of everyone’s time.

So, with determination and excitement fueling your resolve, you entered the tattoo parlor. You were greeted by an eager redhead, who smiled when you told him of your appointment.

“Oh yeah! Well, Y/N, if you could read over these papers and sign ‘em, Bakugou’ll be ready for you when your done!”

You took the clipboard with a smile and sat down. For a moment, you just stared at the words, not really reading them and letting the paper blur. You only hesitated for a moment, before grabbing the pen and firmly filling out the forms. You couldn’t possibly back out now, you’ve waited months for this opportunity! Just because some reviews said he could be a scary guy, psh, from what you’ve seen from the redhead, he couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? Just as you signed your last signature, someone cursed at the end of the hall.

“Shitty-hair! Is that client here yet?! I’m not gonna fuckin’ wait all damn day!” 

You froze in your seat, your eyes watching the redhead as he rolled his eyes.

“She’s here, dude, chill.” 

You gulped, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the papers again. Was this guy serious? He sounds like he could up and kill me with his tattoo gun! The redhead laughed, taking in your pale figure and offering a calming smile. You relaxed the slightest bit.

“Ah, don’t mind him. He’s all bark and no bite, you’ll be fine. It’s just a tattoo after all!” He laughed again, trying to get you to ease out of your frightened position. “Are you done filling those out? If you could hand me your I.D you’ll be all set!”

You nodded mutely, handing him your I.D and clipboard. His reassurances should’ve placated you but why were you so damn tense? Was the reality of getting a tattoo settling into your bones and immobilizing you? You let out a deep sigh, deciding it’s now or never, hostile artist or not, he still was the best of the best.

The redhead, Kirishima he said was his name, handed you back your I.D and beckoned you to follow him down the hall. The closer you got to the room, the quicker your heart beat. You were so nervous, so excited, you didn’t know what to do with the plethora of emotions surrounding you. With a deep breath, you entered the room behind Kirishima.

The room was covered in art and designs of the past on the walls, fat binders lining bookshelves and a desk spilling over with sketches and unfinished line work. You could tell just from the room alone the experience Bakugou’s had. The tattoo table sat in the corner, laughing at your hesitance,  which almost had you running for the hills at the mere sight of it. The air smelt sterile, and you took a deep breath again to try and calm your jolting nerves. Just as you did, the air caught in your throat when you finally laid eyes on your tattoo artist. His eyes were an angry red, brows set in a frown as he appraised your form. You were frozen at the door, not quite able to tear your eyes away. No one mentioned anything about how hot he was! Feeling very deceived by the reviews online, you shimmied yourself fully into the room, all the while staring at the famed Bakugou Katsuki.

“Took you long enough.” He grumbled with a click of his tongue, strong, impossibly tattooed arms crossed over a built torso. He wore a black tank top, not leaving much to the imagination and wore watching black jeans, which hung delectably low on his hips. Now you weren’t sure if you could sit in the same room as him for a completely different reason.

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Dude, she’s early. Impatience is so not manly.” He huffed, walking out of the room, giving you a thumbs up and smile on the way out.

Now you were left alone. With an insanely attractive man whose hands and eyes were going to be all over you for the next hour. Your earlier hesitance in the matter all but withered away and was replaced with a newfound excitement. 

You waved awkwardly, smiling slightly. “Um, hi, I’m Y/N! I’ve heard so many great things about you!” You greeted, hoping you didn’t seem overly eager. Now with your resolve restored tenfold, you wanted to get off on the right foot. His temper still looming over your head dangerously.

He clicked his tongue again, eyes roaming over your figure. “You better have, I don’t run this fuckin’ business for nothin’.” He mumbled, motioning for you to sit at that tattoo table while he prepared.

You watched him eagerly, eyes following where he slapped on his latex gloves. You drank in the way his nimble fingers worked with his equipment, sending you head reeling from thoughts of what else they could do. Goodness, this is embarrassing. Get yourself together, Y/N! You can’t be getting yourself all hot and bothered, this is a professional environment! And with that, you averted your eyes and focused them on your twiddling thumbs. 

“So’re you gonna take your pants off or what?” He finally asked, eyes slanting in passive anger at you.

“Wh- huh?!” You exclaimed, almost falling off the table in pure shock. Take off my pants?? Has he noticed my staring? Wait- can he read my thoughts?!

“I can’t tattoo your thigh over you pants, you know. Idiot, you should’ve worn shorts or somethin’.” His voice was laced with superiority as he chastised you, making your thighs clench unconsciously. You were not going to survive this session.

With flaming cheeks, you stood from the table, hands poised over the button of your jeans.

“R-Right.. Well um, would.. Would you mind turning around or something?” You asked quietly, the blush on your cheeks traveling to the rest of your face as you stared into his red eyes. Which he rolled.

“I’m gonna see you half naked anyway,  just take your pants off so we can get this shit over with.” He commanded, a brow raised haughtily as he sat on the stool next to the table. 

Now, you really didn’t think this through. You’d hoped he’d find you half naked in different circumstances, but here you were, jeans pooling around your ankles in contempt while the flush seemed to travel throughout the rest of your body. How could you forget that you wanted this stupid tattoo on your thigh? At first, you didn’t think anything of it, believing you wouldn’t be attracted to your artist. Fate had other plans though, and made your artist the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

You stepped out of your jeans, mumbling begrudgingly as you scooped the mass of fabric from the ground. Once you straightened up, you made eye contact with Bakugou. For a split second, it looked like he was staring at you ass. If you were bolder you might’ve said something like “Like what you see?” but instead, you shook your head, finding the notion preposterous as you sat back onto the table with curses being muttered under your breath.

“It ain’t my fault you wanted the damn tattoo on your thigh, no need to get all bitchy with me.” That comment might’ve brought down his attractiveness to you by about one percent, so any response that you had died in your throat once he started cleaning the exposed area on your thigh. Your lips were zipped tight, trying your absolute best and then some to keep any peep from coming out of your mouth. 

The breath that had been stuck in your chest finally escaped from your body once Bakugou pulled away, reaching for the readied transfer paper. You eyes softened at the sight of the design of your tattoo, heart fluttering at the way Bakugou had rendered it.

“It looks beautiful.” You whispered, smile blossoming on your face as he applied the transfer to your thigh, momentarily forgetting your qualms about the damn artist’s proximity. 

He hummed in response, clearly denoting an I know in his wake as he removed the transfer paper. “Look in the mirror and tell me it looks good.” He commanded, his tone clearly indicating he already knows it looks good. Probably just wants me to stroke his ego some more.

You got up anyway, not wanting to disobey him, and checked out the art that was going to be permanently etched into you skin in an hour’s time. “It’s perfect.” You breathed, checking yourself out in the mirror with renewed excitement. When you turned back, Bakugou’s eyes flickered up from your thigh to your eyes. He cleared his throat, motioning you to sit back on the table with a flick of his wrist.

“Duh, I strive for nothin’ but perfection.” He said, gloved hands patting the table impatiently.

Was that… a blush on his cheeks? Your heart rate accelerated, smile growing as you skipped back onto the table. “I don’t doubt it, Bakugou! Alright, now tat me up!” You were giggling happily, legs spread onto the table before the young artist, which, unbeknownst to you, had his heart rate going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, yeah.” 

With that, he leaned into you inner thigh, one hand gripping onto the soft flesh while the other poised the tattoo gun over it. 

“Brace yourself, it ain’t the most comfortable feeling in the world.” He warned, barely giving you any time to actually do so before getting to work.

A gasp escaped from your lips once you felt the tattoo gun connect with your skin, not necessarily in pain but to your horror, in pleasure. You bit your lip, trying to seem nonchalant but in all reality, heat was rushing to your core and you started to feel your body temperature rise considerably. You couldn’t really blame yourself, an attractive man’s face was inches from your barely concealed vagina while he gripped your thigh. How could you not get turned on? What was really going through your head though, was how you were going to distract yourself. You couldn’t possibly think about him and only him this entire time, right? He’d probably catch on and kick you out or something. You wouldn’t be able to stand the embarrassment that would come with that. 

While you did try to keep your mind occupied, you couldn’t help but watch the artist at work. His tongue slightly poked out his lips every now and then. Sometimes he’d blow out a breath which would hit your thigh deliciously and send you head spinning. He’d squeeze your thigh and maneuver it this way and that to get a better angle. Every little thing had your heart racing, your thighs needing to clench, your core needing some damn friction. You were, to put it lightly, going fucking insane.

Bakugou suddenly pulled back, his face screwed up in an expression you couldn’t place. An agitated groan escaped his lips while he made aggressive eye contact with you.

“Wh- ar-are you done-?!” Your eyes flickered to the unfinished tattoo, your expression turning confused when you met his eyes again. “What-?”

He shoved himself onto you, pupils blown wide with arousal. “You know what you’re doin’, huh? Don’t play dumb with me you’ve been acting like this since you walked in here.. You know how hard it is to fucking concentrate when I can just smell how wet you are? Huh?” He all but growled, eyes glued to yours while his large hands gripped your waist possessively.

You took in a shaky breath, breaking eye contact to watch his body hover impossibly close to yours. A sweat had built around Bakugou’s temples, body slightly shaking with restraint as he gathered your next reaction.

“Fuck.. you can’t blame me, can you?!” You yelled, hands gripping onto his strong biceps. “You’re over here gripping on my thigh and breathing on my coochie, how the fuck am I supposed to react?”

Your response shocked him, but was enough to confirm any suspicions he had and he immediately clashed his lips with yours. You melted instantly, hands roaming up to grip at his sandy hair roughly. Teeth clashed, tongues melded and fought for dominance, breath coming in hot and heavy as your bodies melted into each other. Bakugou was already hard against your thigh, member pulsing through his jeans and prodding closer and closer to your dripping core. 

You moved to wrap your exposed legs around his waist but was shoved roughly back onto the table, Bakugou breaking the heated kiss and roaming down. His hands left a trail of fire on your exposed skin, causing small, broken mewls to slip to your lips while he pushed your top over your breasts, his eyes drinking in your heated form greedily.

“Fuck baby you look so good like this. I’ve barely even touched you and you already look fucked out, all for me huh?” He purred obscenities into your ear, a shiver wracking through your body at his words. His hands barely skimmed over your bra, your breath held in anticipation as he slowed his rough mannerisms to admire your breathless body. A low growl emitted from the back of his throat, his hands pushing your bra down to expose your chest, your nipples hardening immediately in the crisp air. Deft, tattooed fingers toyed with your breasts, red eyes burning into your own as he watched you writhe underneath him, your legs rubbing together incessantly to try and gauge at least the tiniest amount of friction you could get. 

You whined needily, fingers fisting into his hair as you tried to connect your barely concealed pelvis with his.

“Nuh, uh, baby girl I’m gonna need you to be patient, yeah? Can you be patient for me?” His tone was laced with such dominance you were rendered speechless, a nod of your head indicating you understood what he was implying.

“No, that ain’t gonna cut it sweetheart, use your fucking words or else I’m stoppin’ right here, when we’ve barely even gotten started.” His fingers gripped your chin, forcing your gaze onto his.

“Y-Yes, sir..?” You were hesitant with the addition of the title but a hum of approval resonated from the tattooed man that had you relaxing back into the table again. Your eyes watched his every move while he lowered himself closer to you, a feeling of desperation slowly gnawing at you. His hands roamed every inch of exposed skin, from the apples of your cheeks down to your pelvis, his fingers toying dangerously with the waistband of your delicate panties.

Just as you thought he was gonna grant you at least some relief, his fingers skimmed past the waistband completely, ignoring the removal of the tiny article of clothing and instead moving to push a tattooed finger against your core teasingly. A gasp escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his bicep for dear life, the tiny amount of contact overwhelming you.

He chuckled dangerously, his face moving to hover over your clothed heat, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

“Oh, please, just fucking touch me, Bakugou.” You seethed, your patience growing incredibly thin. You wanted to reach for his wrist and just make him touch you yourself but you didn’t want to push your luck, having already yelled at the man already. 

He laughed at your command, his hands moving to grip your hips while his tongue poked out of his mouth to gently prod at your panties. An eloquent oh fuck rolled out of your mouth, his hands gripping harder as his tongue lightly grazed over your clothed cunt.

“Is this what you wanted, princess?” He murmured against your wet panties, his eyes lazily gazing up at you. The sight of his face buried in between your legs had you shaking, the hands in his hair impossibly tightening while you tugged him closer to you.

“Bakugou, please, please, please, eat me out I can’t take it anymore, I want you to fuck me so-!” You cut yourself off with a hearty moan, his fingers snatching your underwear to the side and delving his tongue into dripping core. One of his hands massaged your hip, while the other snaked to toy with your entrance. You were already gasping for breath, legs spasming against his head while he dug himself deeper into you. His tongue laved other your clit, alternating between drawing lazy circles and sucking it hard. The juxtaposition of movements drove you mad, your head falling back against the table with your back arching, you hips bucking into his mouth greedily. His finger finally pushed into you, the combination of his thrusting finger and suckling lips pushing you further and further towards the edge.

All too soon, the friction was gone just as you felt your climax rush over you, causing a shriek of disapproval to sound from you. Your head was up in a flash to shoot a look of desperation to the teasing man. His gaze shook you to your very core, almost undoing you just then, with eyes completely clouded over with unadulterated lust. He smirked, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. A whine emitted from your throat, the display downright lewd and having you begging for more.

“Baku-”

“Call me Katsuki, darling.”

“Katsuki, please.”

And with that statement, his tank top was off. His pretty fingers worked to smoothly take off his belt and pants, the mere sounds of the rustling clothes bringing more excitement in between your legs. You crawled toward him, moving to help but he quickly pinned you back down onto the table.

“Now, now, let’s not get too hasty. I plan on fuckin’ that pretty pussy of yours real good, yeah? Don’t you worry that pretty little fuckin’ head of yours.”

Bakugou picked you up with ease, flipping you around and bending you over so your ass was up in the air for him to lay a resounding smack onto it. He hummed while you whined desperately, his abusing hand rubbing the skin immediately to soothe the reddening cheek. You legs felt wobbly, barely able to keep yourself up for him. He was rubbed languid strokes against his angry cock, angling it towards your entrance and prodding at it coyly. He tapped the appendage against your folds, chuckling as your hips bucked up against him. A smirk played on his lips, his eyes dark and dangerous as he started to shift his hips forwards to meet yours. You watched the muscles in his beautifully inked stomach flex as he moved, the feeling of slowly being filled just too good.

Once he was fully inside you, you gasped hotly, trying to accustom yourself to the sensation of being so thoroughly stretched out. His eyes watched attentively, flickering from your stretched hole and to your face. He moved his hips back tortuously slow, setting a pace so agonizingly good that you could barely open you mouth without moaning desperately.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You half-sobbed, clinging to the table for dear life as he rocked into you. He moved to hide his face against the back of your neck, latching onto the juncture of her shoulder and throat in a way that made you sure he would leave a mark. The feeling was almost too much– the slow drag of his cock inside you, the ministrations of his lips, teeth and tongue on your shoulder, the quiet and low growls leaving his perfect lips– you were done for.

His large hands gripped your ass, alternating from hard gropes to rough slaps that resounded about the room and arousing you tenfold. Broken moans fled your lips, your fingernails scratching at the table hopelessly. His cock pulsed within you as he quickened his pace abruptly, his hand fisting into your hair and forcing your back to arch up into him. You cried out in pure glee, your breasts bouncing while he pounded mercilessly into you. 

His hands held your hips in a bruising grip, the pain mixing deliciously with the absolute pleasure that was Bakugou’s pace. His lips were muttering obscenities into your ear, alternating from suckling your earlobe in between his teeth and littering your neck with pretty purple bruises. You have ascended, your mind gone due to this tattoo artist’s godly dick. 

You were sputtering, moans never ceasing to escape from your lips as you tried your best to keep up with his pace, your body becoming hotter and hotter with every deep thrust. You felt your climax building, your walls clenching around his thick cock, causing him to curse into your ear.

His unoccupied hand snaking around your waist to rub quick circles into your clit, sending your body into overdrive and making you see stars.

“I’m go-gonna- oh my goodness- I’m gonna f-fucking come-!” Your body was on fire, your mind short-circuiting with the amount of pleasure wracking your body as you finally came. Your moans came louder with it, your body spasming against his still pistoning cock.

He came soon after, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he rode out his high within your overstimulated walls. Bakugou released your hair, your body falling limply onto the tattoo table. You were gasping for breath, his seed pooling out of your pussy and onto the table. His fingers circled your folds and gathered the come from it, holding them out in front of your lips.

“Now, be a good girl and swallow my cum, huh, princess?”