I'm gonna be doing quick kofi doodles to help with moving costs!
So here's how it's gonna go:
Each $5 gets 5 minutes of doodle time.
So up to $20 for a 20 minute doodle.
I won't go over 20 minutes, so if you tip more than that, you will not get more time for your doodle.
Only 1 character per doodle.
If you want something specific of the character, keep it simple.
Make sure to provide a reference for the character if it is an OC.
I will do suggestive, but no full NSFW.
And no ship children of sanscest, font***t, or frans. (The latter two would be block on site.)
Ofc, you must be 18 or older for this. No minors here.
These will just be done when I find moments to do it! So if it takes a while to get to yours, do not worry, I will get to it eventually.
Example of a 5 minute doodle:
(I don't wanna bother with sketching more than that for examples atm, so this is all the example you get.)
I don't know how long I'll be doing these. I will let y'all know when I am closing them.
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teenage menaces
wc: ~850; context: set a few months into the last year of Aldera, Toshinori baits Bakugou into a fist-fight and they got in trouble with admin. this was mostly me testing out whether or not I could write Bakugou without stepping into the bashing zone. izuku pov.
//
The three of them wait outside the classroom: Kacchan impatiently, Izuku anxiously, and Yagi cheerfully.
“Yagi-san, what if you get expelled?” Izuku hisses, weaving his fingers together to stop them from twitching.
“Then I’ll get homeschooled? Honestly, Midoriya-kun!” He laughs under his breath, grinning way too big for a boy who got in trouble for beating up the star pupil of Aldera. Kacchan—looks small, next to him. Small and furious, like he doesn’t know the right way to get Yagi to shut up and sit down. Izuku prays that Kacchan never finds out that Yagi is actually All Might. Something might really break.
“Shut the hell up,” Kacchan snarls. “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”
“Ah, if I know my old man…”
“I told you to shut up!”
“You don’t want to place a bet on it, Bakugou-shonen?”
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING ‘YOUNG’?!”
The door swings open to reveal a pale-faced principal and a deeply unimpressed Gran Torino. The latter is out of uniform, but the clean-cut fashion of the button-up and slacks does an effective job at communicating Torino’s professionalism. He swipes the end of his cane at Yagi’s ankle, and Yagi yelps and jumps in surprise.
“Who are you calling ‘old man’?” Torino snaps.
“Sorry,” Yagi says unapologetically. “What’s gonna happen, jii-san?”
“You’re suspended for three days,” the old man announces, and because Yagi looks delighted at not having to attend school, meaning Kacchan looks furious at this apparent light sentence, the principal valiantly steps in.
“You’ll obviously have assignments over this period, to reflect on your actions. And Bakugou-kun must have an apology made to him.”
“I don’t want his stupid apology!” Kacchan spits.
“Fujita-san,” says Torino, “I believe I told you what was going to happen. I’ll get the parents’ permission. They might even be happy about seeing their son in action, if the boy wants to be a hero. Just get me two teachers.”
“Torino-san, this is a deeply improper way to handle the situation—!”
“The entire way you’re running your school is improper,” he drawls. “Don’t worry, it’s not an issue unique to your administration. I know what I’m doing, and I know my boy. He won’t be the one hitting below the belt.”
Izuku connects the dots faster than either Kacchan or Yagi. He blurts out, “Are you having them fight?”, and two blond heads whip around to stare (or glare) him down, then back at each other. Yagi’s grin widens.
Torino says mildly, “In martial arts classes, they call it a spar. Clears the head, knowing the hierarchy… of who’s better.”
The principal’s distress is palpable. “It’s not legal,” he protests.
“I’d win,” Kacchan declares, bristling. Izuku bites his tongue to stop himself from trying to intervene. This is not a fair fight that Torino is setting up; however Quirkless Yagi is, he hasn’t lost the experience of his time as All Might, and with all the training that Torino’s put them through, his muscle memory and reflexes are sharp. Just because Torino is promising to get parental and teacher supervision—god, it’s a whole trap. Kacchan can’t beat Yagi unless Yagi overestimates him. It would take a legitimate miracle for Yagi to lose.
“I don’t know, jii-san,” Yagi says playfully. “Isn’t that a little mean to Bakugou-kun? He won’t be able to use his Quirk in the fight.” Unlike today, his smile says.
“You need a Quirk to punch someone down?” Torino responds, and he rolls his eyes at Yagi’s tone. “That’s when you cross into villain territory. No. This is going to be good old-fashioned fisticuffs.”
Does Kacchan sense it? He must. He’s never been an idiot. The way his eyes dart down to Torino, assessing, attempting to reassess the old man’s threat level, to so casually propose arranging a fight between two fifteen year olds—Kacchan knows the shape of the trap, then. It just depends on whether he believes he can win.
And Kacchan, Izuku knows, believes in winning.
“Midoriya-kun,” the principal suddenly says, and Izuku flinches at the sheer hope in the man’s tone. “You’ve known Bakugou-kun for a long time. Did he start the fight?”
The weight of all their eyes is overwhelming. His loyalty is being torn two ways, and he doesn’t know who to save. If he stops this fight, and denies Kacchan the chance to show off his skills and heart, Kacchan will hate him. If he stops this fight, and affirms that Yagi threw the first punch, then—All Might won’t hate him. The wry twist to Yagi’s smile is basically a blessing to disavow his fellow Quirkless classmate.
But Izuku doesn’t want to disappoint All Might, or even Gran Torino.
He trembles, breathes shakily, and says, “Kacchan would never miss a fight he couldn’t win,” and in the time his audience takes to process, Izuku quite deliberately sides with Yagi. Not hiding. Standing elbow to elbow, in solidarity.
Kacchan’s face twists. “Deku,” he hisses.
“Focus, boy,” Torino says, and his cane clacks against the linoleum flooring. “Your fight’s with Toshinori. That is, if your parents agree to supervise.”
“What if they’re too busy?”
“We’ll find a time.”
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I think one thing I struggle with when it comes to wanting to write Solarpunk stories is like
I like writing conflicts. But I don’t know how to write large conflicts—so something like ‘dismantling the government to install a solarpunk society in its place’ is way too big of a fish for me to fry
But also small conflicts just don’t do it for me. I just can’t stay entertained with them long enough. So something like ‘little Maisy lost her favorite doll and its up to her older brother to find it. Oh btw they live in a solarpunk society’ wouldn’t get past like one page if I tried it
But how fantastical can one get before a society is no longer solarpunk but just… fantasy? How far out of the realm of reality can you get before it just seems hollow? But how close can you stay? How much conflict can you have before your hopeful vision of a solarpunk future is no longer hopeful and no longer solarpunk? How big of an issue can you create in a solarpunk society, what kind, while still keeping it solarpunk? While still having a problem that can’t just be handwaved with ‘that wouldn’t happen in solarpunk’?
And of course logically I know the answer is different for everyone. But like. Still. How derivative can you get, how much conflict can you add, before a story intended to be solarpunk just becomes ‘random urban fantasy but with round roofs stained glass and a lot more greenhouses?’
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