#oh god it's been a while...

[iceclew]

Did I spent all my f*cking free time and last week on drawing like a mad man? Yes I did. Was is Kaiju OC ref sheets only? Yes it was. And did I draw not one, not two, not three but actually four at a time? Yes I did.

Detailed Ref sheets of the Queens Squad below let's gooooo ... ᕕ(⌐■_■)ᕗ

I'm gonna show you in the order I drew it, you may realize I did change the style a bit. And they don't have surnames, I just gave 'em a random letter., lol

y/o = Char is .... years old y/o.s. in D.F. = .... years of service in Defence Force C.P. (w/#7)= Combat Power (with No 7 weapon equipped)

Meggiiiee :o She's a char I came up with in...like 2015 ╥﹏╥ (I'm old) and it was a char in the Legend of Korra-Universe. I sorta transferred her story into the kaiju-verse, and well... I love her a lot :D Also not me struggling with drawing guns/sniper rifles ... :) I wanted to give her a cool gadget but messed up xD Her name wasn't Megumi at first, but I had to change it to fit the japanese Kaiju-verse.

Anouk aka. Anu-chan :3 Yeah, also LOK-verse. She's from 2012 ಥ_ಥ (I'm oooold). Used to be a ice/waterbender, but I redid her skillset completely.. I just didn't feel it in this verse. She should get a special prompt too, but I forgot didn't do that as well :)

Panpanpan :O Pan is the oldest OC, but at the same time the newest I came up with (early 2024). I feel like OCs very often do have at least a little resembles with yourself, whether it's looks or personality. Pan is the character who most resembles me in both :D (very much because it's the newest, lol) But she's a bit over the top nice.

Kari ma gurl c: It's so weird, but I sorta forgot most of my OC's names... ╭( ๐ _๐)╮I mean Pan didn't have a name at first, and for the rest of 'em I had to look up old files, older work on dA and so on.. I hope I am right with 'Kari', I literally am not sure anymore :D Also a char I did early 2024, and it was initially for the BNHA-verse.

*struggles to find more words*

uuh... well... I'mma leave this here now..( 〃．．)

[emacrow]

Hey, did you lose this?

A gargantuan looming form that was black as the night sky, coated in stars, cosmic dust, planets, and nebula. Extremely long snow white hair defying gravity floating above the ceiling spreading across like a growing cloud. Bright blue eyes like jewels staring down at tim

Tim could only stare dumbfounded with his sleep deprived eyes after searching for the right summoning in his backup backup bunker to find batman after escaping the arkham asylum.

In its right thin hand holding like a wet napkin was batman unconscious, coated in deep blue ice.

"I believe this belong to your dimension, at first, I thought it was a miniature cat at first when it tried a pathetic attempt at fleeing my children's toy box was when I noticed it was just another misplaced humans and they don't last long in the infinite realm much less my children's toybox. It took me a moment to figure out the right dimensions where it originated, but you thankfully made it easier for me to find with the summoning." The bring lightly drop Batman down to the ground as the deep frozen ice easily melted away.

"D-don't you need a payment?" Is what Tim spoke after his mind reset back from shock.

"Oh no~, visiting this dimension is a grand payment considering this where I can finally nib the bud of those pesky sewage ectoplasm that been a pain in my ankle for long enough. At best, you would be rewarded for giving me such a gift." The being lightly tapped Tim's head with its glowing index finger, ruffling the black hair lightly.

"Should you need me for any favor, Call upon me, the High King of the Infinite realm, Danny Phantom, Protector of the Dead and Alive, Center of the Eternal Vast Sp" The be- Danny did a light bow, as his towering being faded away, the summoning circle disappearing as well.

Leaving only Tim alone with a Bruce coughing a bit, taking a couple of heavy breaths of fresh air which snapped Tim out of his stupor.

"Bruce, Bruce, are you alright?" Tim rushed over and lightly shook Bruce's shoulder as Bruce's eyes opened slowly to see Tim, except there was something different about tim. His hair wasn't black but now a strikingly bright white with specks of stardust.

Fanart -> link

Part 2-> link

[hinamie]

green

[liketolaugh-writes]

It always kind of bothers me when people say that they like Bad Fenton Parents because 'it's just angstier.' There are flavors of angst, you know? Betrayal and grief and false hope and distrust and even recovery are all different flavors of angst, completely divorced from the intensity of it.

Like, I'm sorry, is it... not angst for Danny to spend fourteen years completely certain of his parents' unconditional love, only to have it cut out from under him the moment he becomes a half-ghost, leaving him floundering?

Is it not angst for Danny to grapple desperately with the knowledge that his parents love him to the ends of the universe and the certainty that his parents hate him with cruelty he didn't previously know they were capable of, and have no idea which one outweighs the other? For him to put up with their hatred because he's so afraid of losing their love?

Is it not angsty enough for his parents to find out who he is, and instantly be crushed under the realization that they have hurt their beloved son in ways they can never make up to him? Don't you want them to cry and sob with the knowledge, have nightmares about murdering their youngest child that make them wake up screaming?

Don't get me wrong - if you like what him being neglected from childhood brings to the table, I totally get that! If you like for him to have specific trauma around being ignored, and a closer relationship with Jazz, and an incomplete childhood, that's great. Have at it.

But don't 'teehee I guess I'm just a sadist' it because you are blocking off literally sooo much nuance

[swamp-gremlin]

RoadBlasters Incident 1987

[valtsv]

You allow yourself a moment to indulge in the fantasy of yourself as their chosen companion—their trusted right hand when their own fails them—before the sheer laughable impossibility of anyone finding comfort in such reliance on you clamours and shoves its way to the forefront of reasons why that can never be. You understand this. You truly do. It’s only that—

sketched some scenes from my fic

+ better quality under the cut:

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[bear-vi]

You're Not Here

[egophiliac]

been a while since i've heard anything about ride kamens, how's that going

they're just doing Hamlet now APPARENTLY

[dizzybizz]

mingling memeing for today 🥰

[theellipelli]

This time I’ll be the one protecting you!!!!!

[willowser]

HMMMMM bakugou being just. the absolute picture of sin.

he works overnight and comes home early in the morning, around 3 or 4 am or so, and you greet him and give him a kissy and ask how it all went. and even though it's still dark outside and he's been working for twelve hours—he's still coming off patrol, right ? so he's still got some energy left, and he eats something and takes a shower and winds down as you fall back to sleep.

and it's not until much later in the day that he wakes up, early afternoon, and you're kind of tiptoeing around so that he can get his much-needed rest. you slip into the closet of your bedroom for something and you think you're gonna get in and out without a sound, but his hearing is so attuned to just about anything and everything at this point.

so rough and raspy, he grunts out, "what're y'lookin' for?" and you whip around real fast and he's just—

half sitting up in bed, bare back leaning against the headboard. an arm behind his head, so that his bicep is tense and round and stone-solid. stretched like that, his obliques are more prominent, taut and rippling up the side of his ribcage. he must have gotten hot while passed out, as he usually does, because the comforter is all askew; one of his legs is bent, the fine hair a dark gold in the waning day; the other is hanging off the bed, lightly swinging as he watches you, and the blanket has come down enough that you can see the bulge of his thigh muscles beneath his stupid tiny black boxer briefs.

and he's just so. man. in every single way.

(his hair is flat on one side, too, and his eyes are still a little puffy from sleep—but you think that adds to it, all in all)

[reysasoup]

Mouthwashing doodles ✨️

I like to think this is how it would have gone, if Daisuke found out :)

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

was having trans marty thoughts again and i came to a realization about this scene

[kabukiaku]

malewife + girlboss dynamic.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Started a new book series, and has been a journey...an Odyssey, if you will.