Hey there, I'm Fruitfulmind or rather, 'Damien'. I've been writing for a while, since I've been about seven years old. (Lordy, the Fairly Odd Parent fanfics were REAL.) This is my art/writing sideblog, I typically follow back from @whadadonameskremylecroux
A little information about me:
I'm Damien. I go by he/they pronouns. I'm 30 years-old and a proud self shipper. Right now my major selfship is Magnus Hammersmith and Melmord Fjordslorn from Metalocalypse. (this is subject to change.)
My requests are currently: OPEN
I won't write anything NSFW featuring minors so if you're thinking of asking? Don't. This also includes 'aged up' characters; it just gives me the squick. Sorry.
I don't only do fandom requests, I also do oc writing requests, or even oc/canon requests.
Other places you can find me/Links of interest:
Ao3
Toyhou.se (Do a majority of my requests from here)
My Carrd
Discord: ringwolf (You can message me here for requests or even send me a message/ask on Tumblr)
”with our ai chatbot you can talk to your ocs!!” Dumbass. I’m already talking to them. In my head. “B-bbut what about your favourite charac-“ skill issue. In my head as well. get fucked.
Never be afraid to recycle an idea you had for a project you already completed. Sometimes ideas really are just that good and deserve to be used more than once.
Summary: Bailey and Sal are enjoying a walk, when they hear something that lights a fire in them. There, they encounter some bullies terrorizing a kitten.
Warning: Some animal abuse, nothing explicitly written, but implied.
A/N: Written for @baileythebean and their f/o, Sal from Sally Face!
Ever since the accident that scarred him emotionally and physically, Sal had a hard time letting anyone in; he hadn’t even meant to let Larry in, but circumstances and closeness made the two as close as blood brothers.
Even when Bailey came into his life, he’d always held the other teenager at arms length. Bullies didn’t do anything for Sal at this point, he always filed them away as ‘morons’ and ‘assholes’. But it was different when you opened up to someone as much as he had to his…
What were they, anyway? This was still fresh. They were boyfriends, right? Or had Sal misunderstood? Lovers felt strange, maturer than the teen felt at his age. But he’d been forced to grow up, ever since…
“Earth to Sal!” Bailey’s voice rang out. The other teenager stepped in front of him, nearly dragging his boyfriend. “You alright there?”
Sal blinked, slow and unfocused, from behind his prosthetic face. How long had he’d been zoned out? When did they even lace hands?
Sal cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “I’m fine. What were you saying?”
Bailey’s dark brow furrowed, their eye narrowing a little. Shit, why did he look so concerned?
“I was asking if you wanted to come by later.” Bailey’s fingers tightened around Sal’s, making the boy’s heart flutter a little in his chest. “I managed to snag a Z-Cube and I wanted to know if you’d like to shoot some zombies later.”
That sounded nice, almost… fuck, it almost sounded intimate, the way Bailey described it. Sal would love that.
“If you want, you can also invite Ashley and Larry; it’s up to four people.” The red ombre-haired man offered, a small smile inching on his face.
“Yeah. That sounds nice,” Sal replied. Fuck, it did sound nice. Sal didn’t know what he did to deserve Bailey. While he was still chronically depressed, there was something about the sixteen year-old that made Sal’s life just feel lighter.
Weird, right?
They continued their trek down the sidewalk towards the school, talking about things ranging from schoolwork, family, to the supernatural.
The pained sounds of an animal pulled the duo out of their adamant conversation about the zombie apocalypse, their heads whipping around to find the source. When Sal pointed in a direction, they both ran.
The fence to the basketball court was worn with wear and abandonment, grass sprouting through gaps in the mesh. Where there should have been abandoned blacktop, there was now three teenagers, two of which Sal recognized from his math class.
“C’mon, gimme the lighter!” One of them, a tall and lanky boy with a mullet, cackled. He made a grab at his friends’ hand, then held the lit lighter down. The same pained noise Bailey and Sal heard earlier rang out again.
“Is that a cat?!” Bailey asked, his voice a low whisper as he looked on in horror. His uncovered brow furrowed. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The trio made a grab for the cat, securing it from running away. One of them, an older male with patchy facial hair, turned to them. “Damn. I thought you were the cops or something.” He laughed. “We’re just playing.”
Sal’s hand tensed around Bailey’s, like an anchor for the other’s anger. While the sight lit a fire in him, he couldn’t risk anyone, especially Bailey, getting hurt. They didn’t know if the group had weapons on them.
It was still amazing how far his boyfriend would go to protect someone else.
Wait, did his heart just literally skip a beat? That only happened in movies, right?
Bailey stood his ground, glaring at the abusive assholes. “Right, playing. That’s what this is.”
Mullet rolled his eyes. “Relax. It’s just a stray. No one’s gonna care.”
“Bailey…” Sal said, softer this time. He was trying to remain calm, but the kitten’s struggling mewls were getting to him. What if Gizmo had escaped? Would these assholes torture him, too?
“Yeah, listen to your little boyfriend.” The teenager that hadn’t spoke yet said, his torn scornful. “Jeez, dude. I’d be embarrassed if I were you. Your little bitch is like a rabid chihuahua.”
“He’s not a bitch,” Sal said, his tone calm, but clipped. “And even if he was, I’d still love him.” He wasn’t really thinking when he said that. It wasn’t until after a heavy silence fell over the basketball court that the gravity hit him. “I mean…”
“We’ll talk about that later.” Bailey said with a prominent kiss to his cheek. “But I love you too.” He then turned to the trio, free hand balled to his side. “Now, where were we?”
“Fuckin’ weirdos,” Mullet mumbled under his breath. “You really want to die for a fuckin’ cat?”
“I wouldn’t attack us if I were you,” Sal warned, tone calm and collected. “If I remember right, you said if you’re arrested one more time, they might try you as an adult.” It wasn’t a total lie; he’d heard rumors that the guy had been to juvie before; anything bigger, and he might land in hot water.
“Psh, like we care about that,” the one that called Bailey a bitch said. But his other two accomplices didn’t look so sure. “Guys? Come on, we’re not really listening to Sally Face of all people. Right? Right?!”
“I dunno, man… there’s something weird about him,” Patchy said, still holding the kitten. “Whatever, just don’t… I dunno! Curse us or something!” He tossed the kitten with a swing of his arm.
In a feat that even surprised himself, Bailey lunged across the blacktop, rescuing the airborne cat before it hit the floor. He cradled the frightened kitten, who tried to claw, then nestled into his chest with pitiful, frightened mewls. The teenagers stalked off, grumbling about the pair of ‘freaks’.
“Is the cat okay?” The blue-haired man said, coming up to his partner. He watched as the older boy cradled the cat and spoke softly to it, mumbling how it was safe and no one would hurt it.
Again, Sal’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. He didn’t know how, but Bailey was unlike anyone he’d met before. He was cool like Lars, damn good looking, and… he made Sal feel things like nothing before, all without asking anything in exchange.
Sal never thought he’d find something like this in his life. He’d always waited for something to go wrong, for Bailey to realize Sal wasn’t all that—but it never came. Bailey was there: long night talks about nothing, worrying about the bullying, worrying about Sal.
Maybe nothing bad is going to happen, Sal thought to himself, his body feeling as though he’d just released a weight from it. He plonked himself beside the ombre-haired man, hand stretched out to let the kitten sniff it. Maybe I deserve something like this. Something good.
“I guess Gizmo has a little brother now,” Bailey joked, laughter mixed with his words as the kitten tried crawling inside his jacket. He picked it up gently to look at it, admiring the black and white fur and emerald green eyes.
“Yeah, I guess so… hope I can convince my dad.” The pigtail-haired teenager chuckled under his breath. “What should we name him?”
Bailey admired the now purring kitten, a small smile on his face, then looked at Sal. “Kouki.”
“Kouki?” Sal parroted back. It sounded nice, though his mouth struggled to pronounce it as fluently as Bailey had.
“It means a couple different stuff, but it means hope… kind of like the hope I have for him.” There was a gentle smile on his face now, his eye half shut. Then, he looked at Sal. “And the hope I have for us.”
Sal didn’t fluster easily, it took a lot to knock him off his feet. But Bailey, looking at him with that expression? It sent a shock through his body. “Yeah…”
A silent moment passed over them, the duo watching the kitten try once again to find a home in the ombre-haired boy’s hoodie.
“I meant it earlier, y’know,” Sal said, under his breath. “That I…”
“I know.” Bailey’s hand found Sal’s, linking his pinkie with the other’s. “And I do too.”
They stayed that way for several moments, heads leaned against each other’s, enjoying the company of one another. Sal knew he’d have his work cut out for him when he got home, but for right now? This was perfection.
Shoutout to selfshippers who ship with conveniently attractive characters that fell in love with them for their personality, and their looks are just an added bonus! 🫶🏻🩷
selfshipping isn’t a competition, but if it was, you’d be winning.
(this post is not an authorization to harass doubles. it was made for your personal comfort, not for you to use to target others. best practice is blocking, distracting yourself, and moving on.)
Oh this sounds like fun, thank you for doing this!
The first one is Magnus Hammersmith from Metalocalypse
And the second one is Melmord Fjordslorn from Metalocalypse (I have MTL brainrot, don't even ask)
(Magnus is the ex-rhymthic guitarist of Dethklok who got kicked out for being an asshole and stabbing the front man (Nathan Explosion) in the back, literally. He wants Dethklok to suffer and go into obscurity like he did. Very grumpy.)
(Little about Melmord is he's a drug-using, laid back 2nd manager of Dethklok who doesn't give a fuck and let's the band get away with whatever they want. He later fights the primary manager (Charles Foster Offdensen) in a fencing duel, and loses, getting run over by a train.) (Tragic bastard meow meow who deserved more screen time imho.)
I'm opening up comms for free yumeshipping/selfshipping/insert stories! This includes romantic, platonic, and familial. Or if you just want you in some zany situations.
I just need some info about you and your f/os relationship, any details you want added in your story, what kind of story (NSFW allowed for 18+), and anything you want to share with me!
It's open for any character. If I don't know your character/fandom, tell me a little about them! I'll try doing my own research, too.
You can find examples of my work on my Ao3 and Toyhouse!
"what's the worst thing you can do as an artist" is not "shade with black" or "not use references" or whatever the worst thing you can do as an artist is hate yourself. and that includes the person you used to be
"look at how bad my old art is" "this was so cringe" "it's embarrassing to look at this" what are you gaining here? belatedly being your own bully? is it more acceptable to hate a kid if it's the kid you used to be? shut the fuck up. be kind to yourself or don't say anything at all. people are really not laughing with you when you mock yourself and if they are maybe consider hanging out with nicer people. imo.
this also goes for having your personal blog tags be like "nobody cares (name)" or "shut up (name)" or whatever. why are you being mean to yourself. its not preventing other people from being mean to you just because you get the first shot in it just means you get shot twice. how is that better. how is any of that better
