#i can't even write my own ocs with their personalities

[jksoftii]

☆♡ JUNGKOOK FIC RECS ♡☆

this is a list of my favorite jungkook fics! most of these contain smut so no minors allowed. please show your love to all these amazing authors :) !!

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

SERIES

Birds by @missbickerbocker a f s strangers to lovers au (Doctor!Jungkook x TravelBlogger!Reader)

Summary - In Jungkook's world stability is key. He knows what exactly is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul's ER Unit. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his own ER unit, his stable world starts to shift. — the angst, the sexual tension, everything about this is just perfect!! doctor jk 😭🙌🏻

Gradation by @shina913 a f s bestfriend to lovers au fwb slow burn (Bestfriend!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your wedding day your fiancé leaves you at the altar. While reeling from embarrassment and heartbreak, your bestfriend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal. — i remember coming back to this fic again and again because the entire storyline in itself was so comforting, everyone around oc was so caring and jungkook especially made my heart burst in this one!

Friday nights and takeout by @ahundredtimesover a f s strangers to friends to lovers (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he — i love love love cute happy endings. there was a lot of scolding eachother but their dynamic itself was just endearing 🤧💖 @ahundredtimesover 's other works are also wonderful! you won't be disappointed checking them out!

Lost Stars by @yoongiofmine a f s strangers to friends to lovers au slow burn (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. — i read this in one sitting because it was so interesting! the twists in this story kept me engaged, i felt like i was in a movie.

Coquet by @shina913 a f s fake dating au strangers to lovers (Escort!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous. — another one by @shina913 because i can't get enough of their writing! the angst, fluff, smut everything was balanced so well. top notch literally. sexy escort jungkook made me get on my knees no joke 🙌🏻🤧

Once You Realize by @kooala a f s friends to lovers idol au (Idol!Jungkook x Idol!Reader)

Summary - Seeing your friend regularly turned out to be difficult because of your colliding schedules, but seeing him again after a couple of months something about the way you thought about Jungkook seemed to have shifted. If only you wouldn’t have started getting close with someone else before you had realized how you felt about your best friend — this indeed is the cutest falling in love story! it's a slowburn but not overwhelming. sjdhjsjs it's just adorable 🥲

ONESHOTS

In which drabble series by @onlyswan a f s established relationship au (Idol!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - this is the cutest collection drabbles of boyfriend jungkook!! i recommend all of the installments, the writing is perfect, it's packed with perfectly illustrated details and vivid emotions and you can feel the love radiate from them 🥹 Art is by far my favorite writer on here 🙌🏻 these are a few of my personal favs from the installments -

in which jungkook comes home drunk but bam can’t speak f wc: 2.6k

— no because drunk jk is a menace and we all know it. this was so chaotic and fluffy it made me want to scream!!!

in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes f wc: 2.8k

— jungkook with glasses. my weakness. but this was so cute and fluffy! it's his little journey figuring out how to handle his glasses with oc!

in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give a f s wc: 8.3k

— this is actually a angsty one but it shows their ups and downs as a couple and gives more insight into their relationship!

The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts a f s wc: 52.9k strangers to fwb to lovers au (Idol!Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader)

Summary - you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? — this has a LOT of angst, i won't lie i cried a few times reading this too. the character growth in this was just so phenomenonal. i go back a lot to this and read it again and again just to re-live the story. and ofc the smut is an amazing add on toooo 😭🙌🏻

My babysitters a quarterback by @ohpretty-baby a f wc: 30k enemies to lovers high-school au (Quarterback/Babysitter!Jungkook x Cheerleader!Reader)

Summary - after getting cheated on by the star of the hockey team, park jimin, your life (as expected) goes downhill. what you don’t expect is your parents being skeptical of whether or not you’re a good older sibling for your sister. you also don’t expect them to call jeon jungkook—the person you hate most—to babysit the two of you.

or, alternatively: jungkook babysits you even though the two of you are the same age. — i love this so much oh my goshhhhh this is one of the fics which will make you laugh and cry at the same time. it's fluffy and their dynamic is absolutely adorable. it's sooooo beautifully written!! :))

Spring will come again by @baepsaesbae a f s wc: 10.9k strangers to lovers au (Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!Reader)

Summary - Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever? — everything in this just feels so warm and comforting and jk is so sweet and so precious in here. there's angst but a very cute happy ending. the writing was so well done and so well articulated!! <333

Safety Net by @pradaksj (TWO-SHOT) a f s enemies to friends to lovers roommates au (Boxer!Jungkook x Reader)

Summary - On new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. — this is one of my favorite fics ever. it's hilarious and emotional at the same time. both are literally the definition of dumb and dumber 😭 @pradaksj did a lovely job at illustrating their relationship progression. boxer jk just has my entire heart 😵‍💫🙌🏻

Be-Ghoul-Ment by @dokyeomin f wc: 10.1k idiots to lovers university au (Blonde!Jungkook × Reader)

Summary - [beguilement (noun): an entertainment that provokes pleased interest and distracts you from worries and vexations] --- You hate haunted houses more than you’ve ever hated anything. You don’t understand the appeal. But this Halloween, you decide you might hate Kim Taehyung even more. — the cutest fic ever! jk and oc both being a nervous wreck in this was so relatable 😭, and I loved the side friendships with Taehyung and Hobi. It was so sweetly crafted and left me feeling happy inside.

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #tattoo artist jungkook #jungkook exes to lovers #jungkook fics #jungkook fic recs #fic rec #bts fic #bts #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fanfction #bts fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot

[kasarasun]

what if I made a thing or it already was that while Airplane wrote the world, Peerless Cucumber illustrated it (only the animals. And Binghe, fighting the animals.) And then then then

He'd totally do it on an alt account, right?? Peerless Cucumber can't be seen making fanart!! (And he's good at it. Like, wiki is using his art in the monsters and beasts pages (that Peerless Cucumber volleyed for. He also separated it from the plant section.) Because 1 its good 2 the artstyle is consistent 3 there isn't a lot of monster official art, other than that one with the black moon rhinoceros python and those other ones and 4 it's really that good)

Haha incomprehensible parenthesis nesting aside, Airplane is watching the forums, right? Not sure about other stuff in canon but he looks at the forums and the fanart and the fiction and most of it is probably corn and binghe and just a little bit of mobei-jun and also the wives tm but!! There's also that guy!!! The monsters guy!! (People would probably suspect 'Drawing the Beast's Ire'- or some other sex euphemism I'm not good at making those- of being Peerless Cucumber because 1 the writing style is the same 2 Peerless Cucumber is the number 1 contributor to the PIDW wiki and a lot of it is the monsters and beasts section and it makes sense, yes??) Anyway, Airplane shooting towards the sky suspects but not too seriously suspects Mr ire of being cucumber's fanart alt but uh uh that ends pre-transmigration section

So, Shen Yuan starts running about, right? Things seem really... familiar, maybe thats the word?- for some reason. This is because every animal and plant he's ever drawn, sketched- maybe even thought about but that's a stretch?- is his design. The firefly parallels hold their forelimbs like butterflies. That is how far down it goes. Maybe it doesn't come up until later, but beasts and monsters from fanfiction get involved, oc species, too... anyway,

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky transmigrates 30 years (iirc) before Peerless Cucumber. He was an avid enough follower of Drawing the Beast's Ire to recognize that these are their designs! Here's where it gets really crazy. Xiao-Mobei comes along, and while he's still pretty young, Airplane can tell that this is Drawing Ire's design! Some aspect, maybe his ears or teeth, (this isn't a well built theoretical tangent) of Mobei isnt canon. Its Drawing Ire's. From that one Northern Kingdom collection. Whatever stretched his world building into coherence, completion, didn't just pull from fanwork, official art, whatever it could find, it went for Drawing the Beast's Ire's designs specifically. Damn that's crazy Airplane ahahaha moving on,

This is getting really long so I'll be a bit more concise, (want to know more? Talk to me. Please talk to me. I want to interact with the fandom. Ask me questions. Poke your fingers into my cage.) This all comes to head at the Immortal alliance conference. The monsters and beasts really start pouring in! And Shen Qingqiu/Yuan remembers his creations. However, he assumes that this is because like 1 other person maybe was Drawing ghost head spiders.

Hey, Peerless Cucumber really liked the monsters, right? The deadlier, crazier, more intricate, the design the better! So maybe, when he was drawing, he... added some things, really believable, logical additions, really just small creative decisions...

Anyway, the monsters that Drawing the Beast's Ire made were where it came to a head.

Lets have another Canon divergence. Maybe, during or after Binghe gets pushed in, out of the rifts comes a species that Drawing Ire created. It's beautiful, poisonous, beloved, and really quite deadly. Shen Yuan/Qingqiu, Peerless Cucumber, Drawing the Beast's Ire... realizes, quite like airplane before him, that he's illustrated, practically sculpted with his own hands, monsters from the Endless Abyss with claws and teeth and poisons as deadly as Peerless Cucumber thought that the really cool monsters could deserve. It feels like he's the one cutting, biting, poisoning his sweet little sheep. It feels like he's digging out the marrow from his little white lotus disciple's bones.

Ok it is shut up time 👍

#svsss #shen yuan #shang qinghua #idea vomiting #mobei jun #my writing #long post #text post

[cepheusgalaxy]

"So, you wanna make them ace?"

Asexuality 101: Making your characters asexual

Indroduction: Ok, so, from what I've seen in fandom and in general, most people don't really know how to write an asexual character. Many just quit it and make them allosexual, others just struggle their way without having much of a guide. Prime example is Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, whom many people want to involve in sexual scenarios so they go with the "asexuality is a spectrum" route. Problem is, they don't understand how asexuality is a spectrum exactly and then they just end up writing their characters as allo. Now, how to avoid this? Teaching them!

If you're looking for a good way to get started with your own asexual oc, an ace headcanon or a media charater, I've got you! (i mention sex briefly here in some parts)

My credentials: I'm ace.

The basics

What is asexuality?

Asexuality is a sexual orientation that is generally defined by the lack of sexual attraction, or a very little amount of it. Sexual attraction is many times confused with libido, which is the sexual desire. Sexual attraction is more accurately, "the desire of having sex with this specific person." Therefore, some ace people do have a libido, and do want to have sex, but mostly are just not attracted to a person.

Myths and misconceptions

Asexuals can't have sex - as many shippers say, "asexuality is a spectrum", and while some aces don't have sex indeed, they can want it and have it as well. Person to person scenario

Asexuals don't know nothing about sex - unless the ace in question is a child, they probably may know, in fact, a lot. Many ace people like reading, watching or consuming smut, and by this and other means, even if they don't have sex themselves, they pretty much know how it is and how it works. Sex is everywhere, after all. Hard to miss

Asexuality is caused by trauma - it can be! Just not always, and most aces are simply born this way

Asexuality is a medical condition - much like homosexuality, asexuality is frequently treated as an illnes and many ace people are forced into conversion therapy. Some people also hold the belief that asexuality is caused by an anormality in a person's hormones, a mental illness, etc. But it is not true! Asexual people can obviously also be mentally ill in some way, but these are different things. It is just a sexual orientation like any other!

Asexuality is caused by HRT - hormone replacement therapy, ie. taking testosterone or estrogen, is one of the most common type of medical transition for trans people. Some hold the belief that taking hormones like those can "break" your sexuality (estrogen does sometimes decrease a person's libido, but it depends on the person's organism and it doesn't take your sexual attraction away from you), and turn you asexual

Asexuality is caused by autism - this myth may be originated from the fact that many autistic people are in fact asexual, or by the fact that both asexuals and autistic people tend to be infantilized a lot. However, as much as autistic people are very commonly also ace, asexuality is not, in fact, a symptom of autism

Basic terminology

Ace - short for "asexual".

Aro - short for "aromantic"; someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction, aka typically "doesn't fall in love".

Allo - somebody who does experience attraction. "Allosexual" is someone who is not asexual, and "alloromantic" is someone who is not aromantic.

Aspec - short for "a-spectrum". The a-spectrum is an umbrella term for anyone who is in any way ace, aro, aplatonic, afamilial, or other identities that fit here.

Acespec - short for "asexual spectrum/ace spectrum". It's a part of the a-spectrum and contemplates all asexuality.

Aesthetic attraction - finding someone pretty or beatiful, without necessarily wanting to have sex with them. Many ace people who didn't know they were ace report to having used to mistake it with sexual attraction.

Sensual attraction - similar to sexual attraction; the desire to touch someone, but without wanting to actuall have sex with them. Many ace people also confused this with sexual attraction.

Aphobia - discrimination against aspec people.

Amatonormativity- the belief that everybody is happier in a relationship, wether they want it or not, and should want and seek to be in one, and the general root of aphobia.

The Split Attraction Model

If you are looking on the ace community for a while, you might have heard of the split attraction model--if you haven't, here it is:

Image description: The Split Attraction Model, a cross chart inside a square, with four ends. The first end of the cross is labelled "ace", its opposite is labelled as "alloce", the third end is labelled as "alloro" and it's opposite is labelled as "aro". The section on the "alloro" and "ace" square is labelled "alloromantic asexual", the section in the "ace" and "aro" part is labelled "aromantic asexual", the section on the "alloro" and "alloce" square is labelled as "alloromantic allosexual" and the section on the "aro" and "alloce" section is labelled "aromantic allosexual". /end ID.

The split attraction model divides all orientations in four groups: The aroaces, the aroallos, the alloaces and the alloallos. It is usually shortened to "SAM".

Many people find this model useful, because it sorts your attraction into two groups: allo- and a-, and yes and no. It's simple and easy.

Many aces do not use this model to explain their attraction/lack thereof though! Hence the first distinction of aces we have here: SAM-aces and non-SAM-aces. Basically aces who use the Split Attraction Model and aces who prefer not to!

A non-SAM ace may define their asexuality as their romantic orientation as well, or label themselves differently altogether. While a SAM ace could call themselves an "asexual aromantic" or an "asexual alloromantic", a non-SAM ace could call themselves just "an asexual". In this case, they can be neither "alloro" nor "aro".

If your character is aware of their sexuality and identifies as ace, it's good to know wether they use the Split Attraction Model for themselves or not.

The spectrum

You may have heard that "asexuality is a spectrum" a thousand times, but what does it mean?

Just like "non-binary", "asexual" can be an identity on its own, but it is actually an umbrella term for a bunch of orientations. When we say that it is a spectrum, we are saying that there is Nuance. "Ace who doesn't date", "ace who dates", "ace who experiences just a little bit of sexual attraction", "aces who like sex" and so on. 'But Angel', you ask me, 'didn't you say that asexuality is when people don't have sexual attraction?' It can be! But there IS nuance, and that's what I am here to tell you.

There are two more factors beyond the SAM that you can consider:

"Are they sex repulsed, sex favorable, or sex neutral?"

Here is the "aces can still have sex" thing. A sex repulsed ace is probably what the majority of people think when they hear "asexual". It is an ace person who doesn't like sex. Doesn't want to have it, is disgusted by it, despises sexual intimacy, etc. They are the aces who tipically just don't want to have sex, and are very happy without it.

A sex favorable asexual is someone who likes it. Sure, they don't feel sexual attraction, but who's letting it stop them, right? They like sexual acts, they are fine and happy with having sex in general, and that's what the "aces can still have sex" point means. Yes, they can, if they want to! Maybe your character themself doesn't define themselves as neither repulsed nor favorable, but it's good to know what their instance on sex is.

Inside the asexual spectrum, where do they stand?

Sex neutral asexuals are aces who are not repulsed by it, but are not really into it either. They may have sex, they may be fine with it, they may like it even, but they generally don't have a desire or strong feelings regarding it. It's just sex, after all.

Sex ambivalent asexuals are another thing I want to touch on. They are tipically aces whose instance on sex changes! Sometimes they may feel repulsed by it, sometimes they may want it, sometimes they may not care. They are neither strictly one, nor another. Their feelings change!

It's good to see where in this categorization your character or blorbo would be.

If I were to represent the ace spectrum as a linear thing, I'd do it like this:

Image description: A linear representation of the asexual spectrum, in the shape of an arch. In one end, it is written "asexual", on the other, it is written "allosexual" and on the very middle, at the top of the arch, it is written "gray-asexual". /end ID.

or like this:

Image description: Another linear representation of the asexual spectrum. One of the ends is a black circle and the other is a white circle. Between them, a gradient goes from one circle to another, passing through different shades of gray. The black end is labelled as "asexual", the white end is labelled as "allosexual", and the gradient with shades of gray is labelled "different kinds of Gray-As". /end ID.

What is graysexual, you ask me? We all know that the world is not black-and-white, and as so, sexuality is also not. Grayace is a term for a person that is also asexual, but not strictly: that is, they are the "feels a little of sexual attraction" part of the spectrum. It is called like that because when we put asexual and allosexual in two ends of a spectrum, graysexuality stands in this gray area.

Gray sexuals may:

Experience sexual attraction only sometimes

Experience light sexual attraction

Experience sexual attraction under certain conditions in certain scenarios, for example, when they are already very intimate with a certain person

And many more! Graysexuality is on itself a spectrum, but having an idea of allosexual -> graysexual -> strictly asexual is already a good guide. Graysexuality can also be described as "having partial sexual attraction".

Fun fact about gray-aces: The asexual flag has four stripes; purple, white, gray and black. The purple stripe is meant to be a color signifier of the community, the white means allosexual, the gray means the gray aces and the black stripe represents people with strictly no sexual attraction. Hence the term "black stripe asexual" (which is not very popular but I personally like).

Micro-labels

You already have a basic understanding of the asexual spectrum and how it works, so you can think on where exactly in the spectrum your character/blorbo is. To help you out further, I present you the microlabels! Much like non binary is an umbrella term with many microlabels like genderqueer, xenogender and demigender, that help one explain their identity with more and more specific explanations, asexuals also have a lot of microlabels! Here are some:

Cupiosexual - asexual person that wishes to have a sexual relationship (example: i am cupioromantic person and i am basically a hopeless romantic and a yearner. cupiosexuality is similar, but with sex)

Gray sexual - asexual person with partial sexual attraction

Demisexual - asexual person who can only be attracted to people they already have a bond with

Abrosexual - person whose sexuality is fluid, and may be asexual at one time, bisexual at another, gay at another, etc.

Aceflux - asexual person whose sexuality changes, like abrosexual, but only between asexual identities

Aegosexual - asexual person who likes the idea of sex or fantasises about it, as long as it doesn't envolve them

Lythosexual - asexual person who is only sexually attracted to people they are not close with, and their sexual attraction fades out once the become closer

Myrsexual - asexual person that uses multiple asexual identities to describe their sexuality

Aroace - aromantic asexual person

Alloace - alloromantic asexual person

Apothisexual - sex-repulsed asexual person

These are not all micro labels in the asexual spectrum, but they are quite a lot. Maybe even if your charater is not sure if they are in a certain label or not, you may find them in some of these descriptions.

Bonus questions

Links to resources with more microlabels: Tumblr post by @aroacesafeplaceforall (no images) /

/ A slightly longer list on asexuals.net (undescribed flags) /

/ Another guide for microlabels on lgbtqia.fandom.com (undescribed flags)

Is it okay if I make my asexual character autistic? Is it not stereotyping? Yes, it's okay. There are actual asexual autistic people, and I'm sure they'd love to get represented as well!

Is it okay if I make my asexual character have sex? Is it not erasure? Yes, you can do that too! As long as it is where they stand in the spectrum (as explained in the topics above), you are doing a good thing by representing sex-favorable asexuals.

Do I have to make a romantic orientation for them too? No. Your character may be a non-sam ace, and identify as ace alone!

I heard that it is erasure if I make smut fanfic of ace character X. I don't get it how! While it is true many ace people have sex, many people when writing that just ignore their sexuality when writing/drawing smut of them! The spectrum is wide, so when you are doing that, remember where they stand on it.

Why can't I headcanon this ace character as allosexual? I headcanon straight characters as gay/bi/pan all the time and nobody says it's wrong! If people don't like my headcanon why can't they just look away? Because asexual people are a marginalized group, unlike straight people, so it is as okay to make them allo as it is to take an asian or black or jewish character and make them white. Because it is not just an individual headcanon; it's a part of a much bigger problem, and by avoiding headcanoning ace characters as allo, you are confronting your own internalized aphobia, which is a good thing! If you still want to make them have sex, well, that's what I made this guide for! So you can make them have sex as you wish without erasing their identity.

I am ace and am basing myself or my own experiences here. Is it okay if I...? The answer is generally yes. If you wanna write about a different ace experience than your own, a little bit of research won't hurt, though!

Is this enough for me to write my ace character? It is a start. This is a general guide, and there are some things I haven't touched on this guide (like aphobia) so I'd advice you to do more in-depth research on topics you want to focus more on, but this should get you pretty far.

Extra

"Is Alastor from Hazbin Hotel canonically ace or aroace?" (slightly related, because some people looking for this guide to write this guy might want to know this too)

Answer: link to a post clearing this up this with some sources. Short answer though, is that he is confirmed to be ace, not aroace.

"If I didn't understand something here, or I have more questions, can I ask you?"

Answer: Yes! You can reblog this post with questions, and my inbox is also open, and I make sure to always let anon on. I will be happy to help if I can.

"One of the image descriptions on this post was off or confusing, can you change it to X so it is better to understand it?"

Answer: Of course! I will need you to signal me in either the notes or in the inbox what I need to change, though.

"Are asexual people queer?"

Answer: Yes! Because the queer community, as the name suggests, is for people who are different, odd, and are not considered "normal" because of that. Asexual people are not a part of "the norm", because we don't feel sexual attraction, and therefore, we, and by extension your ace characters too, are queer.

<2

#writing advice #representation #writing tips #fanfiction #fandom #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #radioapple #radiodust #radiohusk #alastor the radio demon #asexual #asexuality #asexual spectrum #sam ace #non sam ace #aroace #alloace #ace #acespec #ace spectrum #character building #writing asexual characters #queer #writing queer characters #ace characters #asexual characters #shipping #ace alastor #described

[illustromic]

My thoughts on drawing wings (an unofficial tutorial)

Do you want to get better at drawing your favorite winged character? Do you have winged OCs? Just want to learn something new? I can't promise this post will help, but maybe it'll give you some helpful tips.

I know, I knowww, wing tutorials have been done to death. I don't care. This was initially inspired by a conversation on twitter, but actually I've wanted to write down my notes on the topic for a long time lol. Basically wings are one of my special interests so it's very important, for me, to draw them both nicely and also realistically.

On that note, let me first show you my resume *distant sound of floodgates opening*

Like what you see? Read on! (Oh, and I will only be covering feathered/avian wings bc those are the type I know best.)

Now, I'm not here to give you a step-by-step guide on wing anatomy and aerodynamics, because there are plenty of other resources that cover this already, and I'll list my faves at the end of the post. Right now, I'm going to give you some easy guidelines and tricks that I wish more artists knew.

1: Wings do, in fact, have bones (crazy, I know) and are actually very rigid because they have to support the weight of a living creature. There are some positions you cannot physically force a wing into irl.

2: Flight feathers are not placed willy-nilly on the wing, because then they wouldn't catch the air properly. Again, like the bones, they are rigid and strong, so don't draw them like fur or ribbons. All wings have the same pattern of feather placement, with slight variation depending on species. If you learn the feather sections, it will automatically improve your drawings a lot.

2.5: Feathers overlap each other like a handful of playing cards, and this looks different depending on which side of the wing you're drawing. They always do this unless they're extremely untidy.

3: The size of the wingspan is important if you're going for a more realistic design. There is no "scientifically accurate" measurement when it comes to fictional creatures, but my general rule is when in doubt, you probably need to make them bigger. Personally, for my original winged human species, I give them wings that can be up to 12 feet long each (the artistic sacrifice is that it's really hard to fit the wings on the dang page lmao, so make your own call).

4: Get used to drawing folded wings. Most of the time, birds keep their wings folded because it prevents them from getting damaged and it conserves energy. The trick is to get good at visualizing how the joints bend and overlap (look at plenty of photos!) In general, they can fold much tighter than you think.

5: Wings and feathers take a lot of patience to draw, but the results are worth it. I've seen so so many incredibly beautiful and skillful artworks that are---well, maybe not ruined, but still negatively affected by a pair of wings that look like an afterthought, or not even like wings at all. You have no idea how much a little extra time and practice will add to your work until you see for yourself.

Finally, some notes on "stylized" wings: Of course it's perfectly ok to draw more simplified/cartoony wings if that's your preference!! BUT there is a difference between a stylistic choice and a lack of effort/poor understanding of the subject matter. Even cartoonists have to learn the fundamentals of realism so they know how to make their designs logical and appealing. Here are some examples of more stylized wings that I feel retain the core principles of anatomy/aesthetics:

And last but not least: A list of helpful links I use personally for reference and inspiration!

I made this pinterest board for general artsy inspo, and this board to curate my very favorite tutorials/refs/information, focusing on the scientific aspect of wings and flight in general. Feel free to use both! (I also suggest pinterest in general for pose refs and such, but try to only practice using photos at first and not other drawings.)

I highly recommend this blog and this blog if you want examples of artists who draw more realism-based winged creatures!! They are both huge inspirations for me and I think you should totally follow them even if you don't plan to draw wings lol <3

If you're REALLY serious about it, my favorite ref books are: Winged Fantasy, a lovely drawing book by Brenda Lyons; Proctor & Lynch's Manual of Ornithology; and Angelus vincens by R. Spano, which is essentially an artbook by someone who (I believe) designed biologically plausible "angels" for their senior thesis.

Ok, idk how to end this lol but I hope it helped! I know it's not my normal kind of post but I'm super busy with college stuff rn and this was all I had time for. If you guys have any questions or feedback, please let me know!!!

-Aloe <3

#my art #wings #drawing #tutorial #the way I could've talked for so much longer haha #but it's 3 am for me and I am fading fast so GOODNIGHT

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 2.3k | tags: rockstar!eddie, addiction, rehab, journaling, only Eddie's entries turn into letters to Steve | Part 2 to Carry You | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost by @yournowheregirl | AO3)

Edited for a big shout out to @steves-strapcollection whose lovely OC has a little cameo here. If you want to know who Tig is, you can find out here. Spoiler: he's amazing and we love him.

Day 0

Dear Steve,

Hi Stevie,

Apparently, it's not good to "bottle up" your feelings. They say it makes drinking or drugs or any other addiction so tempting. It makes it easier to keep all that stuff inside you and let it fester until you need more and more of whatever it is that helps you cope. So the first rule of rehab: Talk, don't take.

That's a long way of saying I need to keep a journal like a 13-year-old girl with her first crush. It's either that or a daily crying session with the other "inmates" here, and I'd rather not have to tell Terry the old gossip my own tragic sob story. She already told me the life stories of two other patients here at dinner.

Instead, I decided to write to you. You're the one person I regret the most pushing away, and even though you'll probably never see this, it feels good to tell you these things now. Like a dry run. Because, baby, when I get out of here, I swear I will let you in. I won't make the same mistakes.

You will never go another day without knowing how much you mean to me.

How much I love you.

You only left an hour ago and I already miss you. I can't believe I've survived six months without you. Well, I barely did. I wish I could call you, but phone privileges are only for those who make it through their first week here.

I know we chose this center together knowing that they don't allow visitors for at least three weeks. Maybe longer if my therapist says I'm not ready. Fuck, three weeks didn't sound so bad when we talked about it, but now? In this ugly, impersonal room that smells clean but is totally clinical. You know, that mix of disinfectant and sterile air with a hint of medication lingering in the background. It sounds like an eternity and then some.

Nothing here feels comfortable or warm, and I miss your face so much it physically hurts.

But I promised myself I'd do whatever it took. For you and Wayne, for the boys and the kids.

So, day 0, the journey begins.

Fuck, I almost forgot: I'm supposed to answer three questions every day.

How are you doing right now? Don't hold back.

See above. I miss you, that's how I am. I want this to be over. I hate that I'm here and even more that I'm the one who got me here. I feel like a fuckup. It's hard not to when I see how I've ruined everything good in my life. But then I remember the way you kissed me goodbye. The smile on your face when you told me how proud you were of me. The way you kissed my hand because you couldn't let go and whispered, "I'll see you soon," and I want to have hope.

What do you want to accomplish tomorrow?

Get through the day without doing anything I'll regret.

What are you grateful for in your own life today?

You. That you didn't give up on me. (And the Gummi Bears you hid at the bottom of the bag, you minx. Thank you.)

Day 4

Sweetheart,

I'm not doing so well. It's hard. Who am I kidding? It sucks. My body hurts from how much I want to use. My brain is so very loud, Stevie. So, so loud. I try to remember how you managed to calm me down when my brain got like this. What helped the most was to wear me out by fucking me senseless, but that's not an option. But maybe I will try to go for a walk or even do some of those exercises you always tried to get me to do. The ones that usually led to fucking because I could never behave.

My therapist is nice. Her name is Laura, and so far she's taking everything I throw at her in stride. Talking to her feels like pulling my own teeth and I feel like shit afterwards, but I sleep better. Who would have thought, huh?

I miss you.

How are you doing right now? Don't hold back.

Not good. I wonder if I can really do this. It doesn't feel like it right now. I'm afraid I won't make it. That I will screw up again. That if I do, it'll kill me and I'll be grateful because I couldn't live with myself if I did.

I don't want to die, Stevie.

What do you want to accomplish tomorrow?

Talk to the weird kid who always sits by himself during meals. He looks lost. Maybe he knows DnD.

What are you grateful for in your own life today?

Still you. Every day. Wayne, for taking me in when I felt like a failure too. Unlovable. Worthless. He never stopped believing in me. Even when I gave him every reason not to. I don't know how I deserve him or you, but I am so fucking grateful.

Day 7

Fuck, I missed your voice. God. I'm sorry I lost it like that. I didn't want the first thing you heard from me after a week apart to be me ugly sobbing into the phone.

I wanted to tell you so many things. I had a plan, you know? But hearing your voice when you said, "Hi, baby," it just broke me. You sounded like you missed me too, like you were relieved to hear my voice too, and you didn't even realize how scared I was that you wouldn't.

We just hung up, but I want to call you again. Just to hear you breathing on the other side so I know you're still there. Waiting for me. Your hand still gripping mine so I wouldn't get lost.

You said, "I'll hear you tomorrow," like it was set in stone, no doubt about it. It made me feel, fuck, I don't even know. Like this is real. I didn't die on that bathroom floor, and you giving me another chance isn't some kind of hallucination or afterlife dream.

I'm rambling, sorry. Even in writing I can't help it.

One day I'll write it all down in a way that makes sense, I promise.

I love how patient you are with me. No one has ever been. I was always too loud, too distracted, too weird, too complicated, too much. But not to you.

I wish you were here to take me in your arms, it's hard not to fall apart without you holding me together.

How are you doing right now? Don't hold back.

Better. Fucking determined to get through this and get back to you. Still scared.

What do you want to accomplish tomorrow?

Have a real conversation with you without breaking down on the phone. Here's to hoping. Detoxing and being sober has given me a hair trigger on my emotions, it seems.

What are you grateful for in your own life today?

Your patience. Your grace. Your voice in my ear. That you still haven't given up on me. DnD, for giving me a purpose when I needed one, a tool to give others the help I so desperately wanted. The weird kid's name is Alex, and he does know DnD. We'll try to find more people for a campaign.

Day 16

Steve, baby,

I am so fucking sorry. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. I'm such an asshole. Please pick up the phone. I need to tell you how sorry I am. I didn't mean it, I was just scared. When you said that maybe Laura was right and you shouldn't come to see me next week if I wasn't ready, I thought you didn't want me anymore. That you finally got tired of holding my hand and watching me do those damn baby steps. It's been over two weeks, why am I not better? Why am I not done with this shit?

I want to be done, I swear.

Please don't leave me.

Please pick up the phone.

Please, please, please.

How are you doing right now? Don't hold back.

Fuck this shit, what good is it if I keep hurting you?

What do you want to accomplish tomorrow?

Stop being a fucking asshole.

What are you grateful for in your own life today?

I want it to be you, but I'm not sure I even have you in my life anymore.

Day 23

Stevie,

I'm scared. Isn't this the stupidest thing you've ever heard? A few days ago I begged to see you. Fuck, I was so desperate to see you that I almost ruined everything. I'm still sorry, I hope you know that. I know, I know, you said that it's okay and that it can't be all smooth sailing, that you forgive me. That you'll keep forgiving me as long as I keep coming back to talk to you, to explain, to show you that I mean it.

And now I've got the all clear for you to come and see me, and I'm too scared to tell you.

I'm still not the man I want to be. The man who deserves someone like you.

Laura told me that love isn't something you deserve, it's something freely given. We don't decide if someone can love us, only they do. And that I have to stop pushing people away because I'm convinced they can't love me. It's their choice and I shouldn't try to take it away from them.

I think about this a lot.

I want to let you love me, I do. It's just hard for me to understand why you would want to do that at all. It's something Laura wants to work on with me as well.

There is so much work to do. I hate to bother you with it. To make it your problem. I wanted to come in here and two weeks later walk out a new man. A better one. One you can love easily and who can love you back in a way you can understand. A man Wayne can be proud to call his son. A man Gareth and Jeff and Grant want to have as a friend, as a bandmate. A man the kids can look up to as much as they look up to you.

Laura said I should take the hand you are holding out to me. It's a decision I make every day. I took it in the hospital. I took it when you drove me here.

I should take it by letting you in, letting you see the work in progress that I am right now.

I think I will call you after dinner to tell you.

How are you doing right now? Don't hold back.

Fuck if I know. It's a lot to feel when you've numbed your feelings for so long. I remember why I did it, but I won't do it again, I'll learn to deal with it.

What do you want to accomplish tomorrow?

Take you in my arms and hold you. Let myself be held by you.

What are you grateful for in your own life today?

Your hand in mine. The thought of you that keeps me going. Your bravery. Dustin and Mike and Will and Lucas. They call me all the time, you know. Asking me about my first campaign here, telling me about their lives. Keeping in touch, even though I failed them almost as much as my old man did me.

Day 31

Steve, my love,

You're on your way to pick me up and I can't believe we made it here. It's not done, it probably never will be. I know that now. I have to keep working on myself and being well. But it's so fucking worth it, Stevie.

I'm glad that Laura agreed to stay my therapist even if I leave the center. I trust her. She gets me, she knows when to push me and tell me the ugly truth, and when I need time to process things.

I haven't told you yet, but I'm not going back to Corroded Coffin. At least not right now. I talked to the guys and they all agreed that it's best if I take some time for myself. And for you. For my family and friends. They actually have a guy named Tig who auditioned while I was here and they like him. He's good, they sent me a demo. They asked me if it would be okay and I said it would be. It's true, even though it hurts. I have to do this for myself.

Because I am going to give this to you later, I want to tell you something here before I lose my courage.

Steve. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I know I haven't always shown you the way you deserve. Hell, some days I certainly didn't act like it. My worst days. But I never stopped loving you. I don't think I ever will.

But I also learned to like myself a little better here. I no longer want to punish myself for things that were out of my control, like my mom dying or my dad not caring enough for me to stay. I want to be loved. I want you to love me. I want to let you.

I want to finally leave the past behind and allow myself to think about the future. And whenever I do, you're in it. You're the anchor, the epicenter of all my plans.

Stevie, sweetheart, I want to marry you.

Don't worry, I'm not proposing. This is just something I needed to tell you. Someday I want to be your husband, if you want me.

You are my past, my present and my future.

This is me taking your hand every day until I die or you stop reaching for me.

How are you doing right now? Don't hold back.

So fucking excited to have you all to myself again. Seriously, I'm going a little crazy. I'm also hopeful about the future. And in love. I'm so fucking in love with you.

What do you want to accomplish tomorrow?

To start our life together without forgetting what came before.

What are you grateful for in your own life today?

My second chance.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 17 #Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost #my writing

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #atreides reader #dune #dune part two #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

[chubs-deuce]

I absolutely adore your art style! It's so beautiful and soft looking! And your Design for Dawn is so so GOOD omg you really did such an amazing job of giving her features of both parents while also still standing out as her own strong character design

I also love your interpretation of Alastor as a father, I feel like I've seen so much of him being like, a shitty dad (and while yeah I could see him being a bad dad, It hurts me because I have a need for soft domestic family fluff 😭) and I just love your take on him!

Bad guys w/ a daughter they're soft for is my bread and butter and UGH your art of them just makes me smile so much because it's SO GOOD

(like the one with him and her having a tea party akayjdgdjwhshe ❤️❤️❤️❤️ like I could just imagine her pulling him by his hand away from something important he was doing and telling him he's been invited and he CANNOT be late and he just rolls with it or something lol)

And the other art you did of Vaggie helping her to learn how to walk and Angel wearing cool sunglasses with her. I can't. Too cute.

But yeah! I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your wonderful art/Headcanons with us :D

And I was also wondering, do you mind if people draw fanart of Dawn? Full credit given, of course.

(also sorry this message got a little all over the place 😅)

lkjsdjkfgsöldkjfgsödlkjgösdfkjgs

omg thank you so much for this?!??! This made me so emo to read omg,, ;w;

I'm so glad you like what I put out about her!!! And I agree!! Soo many people make Al this cold and distant father and like.. I understand where they're coming from, but I personally just can't see him deny an innocent little girl her whims, even more so when it's his own flesh and blood :'3

And imo the whole hotel would pitch in when it comes to raising her so it only made sense to draw other members of the cast interacting with her too :D

ALSO I'D BE DEEPLY HONORED ABOUT ANYONE LIKING HER ENOUGH TO DRAW HER!!!

This goes for any of my OCs tbh!! I never expect anyone to, but it absolutely makes my day when I get to see other people give my characters love in the form of art like that!

Thank you so much for this lovely ask <3<3<3

Have Dawn discovering that her shadow is sentient and putting it to use for shenanigans :'D

(she doesn't yet know that it can deform and strech along walls, she just treats it like kind of a secret buddy until she has better control over it)

Normally a shadow entity like this must be bound via contract, but since Alastor offered up one of his lesser minions during her creation ritual, it reformed as an extension of her! I realized I never established this before so have it as bonus lore I guess xD

Again thank you so much for taking the time to write me something so lovely <3

#charlastor #radiobelle #charlastor fanchild #charlastor fankid #hazbin hotel oc #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #digital art #my art #art #chubs answers

[aventurinemybeloved]

Summary: Aventurine wouldn't mind being your personal mannequin forever if it meant having you this close to him

Fem!reader who's a popular fashion designer all throughout the universe, currently just "friends" with aventurine here, more like sugar daddy tho- very self indulgent because I have my oc in mind while writing this lol

"Not that I'm questioning your process when it comes to your craft, but aren't you tired?"

"Hm nope, not at all are you?"

"I've handled far worse than just standing for a few hours, don't mind me friend, continue"

While that wasn't exactly a lie, it has been a couple of hours since Aventurine was made to be a makeshift mannequin for you, this was supposed to be a day to relax and take both your mind off work.

But it seems that inspiration has struck the minute you laid eyes on a particular fabric store that just got a new stock on a handful of interesting designs, without a second thought you rushed in, your companion had looked away for one second and the next he sees that you've already made yourself comfortable shuffling through the many options to choose from.

As he made his way back to your side, the faint sound of you mumbling under your breath could be heard clearer and clearer, while he didn't quite catch all of it, he was able to piece some things, one of which you wishing you had your mannequin back at the boutique right about now.

"Hey, why not use me for a bit?"

While Aventurine obviously isn't a mannequin, he can sure act like one if you need it, and that you did so you agreed without putting much thought into it, making a mental note to make him a little something as thanks.

And now here you two were, in the middle of the store as you try to pin fabric with your hands on Aventurine's body, he expected this to happen after all he's not the type to willingly volunteer for something without it benefiting him in some way, but he was not prepared for how close you'd be.

Practically an inch away from him, chest against his as you maneuver the fabric in your hands all over him trying to come up with a design in mind, his nose catching a whiff of your shampoo as the top of your head was practically in his face, he's mastered the art of keeping a poker face but a couple hours of this, no one can blame the man for cracking as time goes on.

Luckily for him it seems you've finally finished whatever it was you were doing, he can't even remember even though you were talking about it earlier, his mind growing muddled with serotonin.

He managed to snap out of it as you call over a worker to place an order for your chosen items, and of course pay for it, Aventurine beat you to it though handing his card while softly smiling.

"It's on me"

"What? Aventurine I can pay for it myself, there's really no need to-"

"I insist, it's a treat for how much I enjoyed being your little helper"

Just as you were about to contradict him, insisting even more that you should be the one paying since he already helped you, the worker has already swiped his card handing it back to him and walked off to prepare your order.

You could only facepalm, this wasn't the first time that he has thwarted your attempts at paying for your own things, he's done it so many times you've lost count, and while it's a fact that all of it combined wouldn't make a dent in his wallet, you still couldn't hell but feel guilty.

Not for long though as you could feel a hand gently patting your head, peaking up at him you could see a soft smile on his face.

"You know the deal~" he said in a singsong way

You playfully rolled your eyes

"Yeah yeah, Just let me know when you're free and we'll hang out again"

It was weird to you at first how that was the only thing he wanted after spending so much on you, but overtime you've sorta started to understand it, and want it as much as he does as well.

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #belle writes

[ddollfface]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"You're as hot as the bottom of my laptop, mamas ;)."

Trigger Warnings; gaslighting, manipulation, somewhat spreading misinformation, hinting at yandere behaviors, fluff, PDA, reader is referred to as a girl, honestly this is pretty tame lol If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Just a few headcanons on a new OC. And, just so you know, when I was writing this, I had an afab!reader in mind! If you have any requests, idk why you would, but send them in! I hope you enjoy:)))

Never, ever refers to you as your given name. He prefers to call you by some type of nickname or pet name, depending on his mood. His go-to is mamas, sweet cheeks, baby cakes, hot stuff, good-lookin', and so much more. Honestly, he could go on all day, just listing different pet names he has for you. At this point, it's become a source of entertainment for you, trying to see what odd name he'll call you. Come on, you don't like that nickname, sugar plum? How about dolly? Baby girl? Pumpkin? I don't know, you look like an angel, baby.

Though you'll admit it, it's somewhat endearing to hear, especially when you know he's only called you these cute names. But at a certain point, it gets embarrassing... Like does your mama need to know that he calls you bubble butt, of all things? Let me answer that for you, no, no she does not. If anything, that's something she should never, ever know.

He demands that you come to his games; he doesn't want you to miss a single one. He'll show up to your house at the crack of dawn, on a Saturday, and drag you out of bed to bring you to his game. He doesn't give too shits if your hair looks like a mess or if you're still in your jams. Nope, not at all. If anything, he likes it. He thinks you're adorable with your Hello Kitty booty shorts.

He just wants you there, to support him. He wants to have his own personal cheerleader, someone who he can come to after the game, and give a hug too.

While the thought behind it is endearing and cute, that doesn't change the fact that he's just so pushy. He won't give up, no matter what. If he says you're going, then you're going. You don't get a say in the matter 'cause if you refuse to go, then he's going to bring out the waterworks. He's going to look at you with the saddest eyes you can imagine, there's even tears. He'll cock his head to the side and question you, asking why don't you want to support me? What happened to 'friends first? Remember when I went to that stupid party 'cause ya' didn't want to be alone? Where's my payback, yeah?

He'll use emotional manipulation to get what he wants, making you out to be the bag guy, instead of him. His guilt-tripping usually always works, well, so far it has. And now you're at some stupid hockey game, wrapped up in his jacket, wearing his team colors. Great, now people are asking how you bagged a guy like him. Jesus, where'd they get that idea from? You're not even dating...

Well, that's what you think. Little do you know, he's been going around town tellin' everyone about you. He'll hype you up to his buddies, rambling on and on about how you smell, how your cheeks puff up when you smile, and God, you're so pretty when you're sleeping. Wow, he doesn't mean that in a creepy way! Why would you think of it like that? Because he's just admiring the prettiest girl in school! Don't you know, mamas? You being here makes me the luckiest guy in town, yeah?

He's just so God damn touchy; people can't help but think ya'll are dating. Everything about your relationship screams dating. He's always got an arm around your shoulder, and if he's feeling really ballsy, he'll place a hand on your hip. Though those moments are far in between, seeing as you'll give him a hard side-eye when he does it.

But the PDA doesn't stop there. He'll hold your hand, claiming that he's just warming your hands. After all, it's pretty cold in the winter, yeah? He's just looking out for you, nothing to freak out over. Sometimes, he'll hug you a little too tight, and for a little too long. His touch lingers for such a prolonged time it causes you to look up at him with a questioning look.

Of course, he's the master of diverting your questions, shifting your conversations from his touchy behavior to finals. And this does nothing but piss you off, but it's hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that. The way he scoots his chair closer to yours, intertwining your pinkies together, and smiling at you like a dork. The way he'll bring you coffee (or warm tea, depending on your preference) during a cold morning, always making sure his baby's all warm. Or how he'll cover for you when you're late to a lecture, stalling the class for a few minutes, just enough for you to slip into class unnoticed.

All these small things let you forget about why you were even mad in the first place! I mean, what could he have done wrong? It couldn't be that bad right?

And just like that, you walk right back into his arms, not knowing that he's the one you should be running from. You're such a stupid girl, aren't you? Don't worry, I'll take care of you babes.

#bad writing #lovesick #obsessive love #yandere #lovesick!athlete x reader #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere headcanons #headcanons #yandere oc #original character #new oc alert

[chuluoyi]

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 05

✩°｡ ⋆ sinner's punishment

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, heavy angst, minor character death, description of panic attack, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort

notes: if i may be so bold, this is my favorite chapter so far. but please pay attention to the warnings and read with discretion

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter four : going downhill <- previous ✩ next -> chapter six : a longer dream

In hindsight, the first person you could’ve called shouldn't be your husband. You could’ve called the police, or informed the jujutsu headquarters that traces of a curse user were found in your mother’s humble cottage.

But you were on the verge of having a panic attack, and the first person you could hold onto was Megumi. He promised to come to you as soon as he finished his mission. And for the next agonizing four days, he was there with you.

And on the fifth day, when Itadori Yuji, who was in charge of this investigation, came to your doorstep to deliver the grim news, you felt yourself shaking, overwhelmed with the beginnings of hysteria.

"N-no..." Your breathing was getting harder and out of control. "T-there must be... a m-mistake..."

"I'm sorry, Sena-san," Yuji drooped his head apologetically and gritted his teeth, seemingly pained that he must be the one to tell you this. "We found the corpse at the west area of the river bank. And we've identified her as your mother."

It started with choked sobs, and then an almost inhuman scream erupted from your throat and you started weeping so intensely that you nearly crumpled, saved only by Megumi's strong grip that kept you from collapsing entirely.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt so tightly that your knuckles turned pale, almost ripping it, looking at him through your torrents of tears. "I-it's not true... r-right? I-it's just a nightmare! Please w-wake me u-up..."

"Sena." Megumi's deep voice resonated, reflecting his own struggle in processing this devastating news. He looked at Yuji, who was close to tears himself, and then at you, before pulling you into his arms tightly.

"N-no!" you wailed, thrashing against his hold. "Megumi! No! My mom―my mother! S-she can't b-be―"

Your mother, who used to brush your hair and pat your back to get you to sleep when you were little. Your mother, who stood against your father because he would marry you off to some bastard who could make your life hell and got shut away. And your mother―who cried in relief on your wedding day, realizing that you would be in good hands with Megumi.

The reality of her death suddenly hit your conscience, sinking in with profound gravity. You began to wheeze, your screams and sobs merging into a cacophony of anguish. You nearly passed out in Megumi's arms as your ability to stand forsaking you entirely, but he still refused to let you go. He continued to hold you, pressing you tightly against his chest, even as you sank to the floor and pounded his chest in agonizing despair.

"Cry it out," he whispered. "Don't hold back. Just cry. It’s alright."

How did it come to this? Who in the world would murder your kind, loving mother? Why did it have to be her? What had she done so wrong that she deserved this?

Or was this karma? A divine punishment? For trapping the unaware Megumi into this marriage?

You couldn't think straight, the sheer pain of it all numbed your very being and you wanted to die too along with her. Even when you knew you were using him, you couldn't help but hang on Megumi's strong grip as you cried your heart out.

The first days after the news broke were excruciating for Megumi as well.

He felt his chest ache whenever he saw you sobbing and crying in pain nonstop. It was a new form of torment, seeing you like that. He wanted to somehow alleviate your pain, albeit a bit. Or do anything to help you at all.

The preparations for the funeral mostly fell to him as you barely functioned. You were even more inconsolable after you saw the sight of blood on the white blanket that covered your mother in the autopsy room―you insisted on seeing her one last time, but you completely broke down afterwards and didn't dare to lift that piece of blanket. You feared the sight to remain in your nightmares.

And Megumi understood that. If he were in your position, it would destroy him too. Even though he had forgotten how his mother was like, he figured that should he lose Tsumiki this way, he could very well go feral altogether.

There weren't many that attended the funeral, and by the last day, your crying had subsided, replaced by this eerie silence and blank stare. You were dressed in all black and barely said a thing or two to the mourners. The only time your eyes glinted with something other than voidness was when your father had the audacity to come and pay his respect before the altar.

Cold fury. Megumi never saw you like that. You surged with so much hatred that when your father asked if you were okay you just turned your head away and refused to give him an answer.

"Please... look after my daughter," your father, the Hara clan head, said to Megumi outside the funeral house as the last of the mourners of the final day. He had looked so concerned and Megumi didn't have the heart to turn him away. He just nodded and bid his farewell curtly.

He would. Of course he would. What sort of husband would he be if he didn't?

When he got back, he found you staring at the altar in total stillness.

"My mother..." You croaked out, strained and barely audible. It was the first time he heard you saying something today other than many hollow “thank you” you muttered to each attendee. "She said... she'd rather take her own life rather than seeing me be married to Naoya."

Megumi's jaw tightened. Your voice radiated so much pain that it made his chest constrict and his desire to embrace you intensify. He approached you cautiously, aware of the anguish you were going through.

He turned to face you. "She was a great woman."

"She―was," you were quick to force the word out. You still looked so utterly heartbroken, but it seemed like you no longer had tears to spare. "I'm... going to find whoever did this," you muttered next, voice lacing with steel. "I won't let them free. I can't―this is the least I could do for her."

He nodded. Of course, he would extend his help too. All evidence pointed to this being the work of a curse user, which meant it wouldn't be long before you could find them.

It was easier said than done. Coming to terms didn't mean you would be able to go back to the way things were. A part of you was permanently shredded, and it would never be the same anymore. Megumi realized it firsthand when one night, a little over a week after the funeral, he heard quiet whimpers from your bedroom.

Truthfully, he also felt a sense of emptiness as well. Even though he didn’t know his mother-in-law that well, he remembered seeing her soft smile for him during the wedding, and of course the fact that she had sent many boxes of oranges just for you. He knew for a fact that she loved and cherished you so much.

And so, he tapped lightly on your door. Because the urge just got too much, and seeing you in grief made something in him want to rush to your side just to make sure that you were okay.

“Can I come in?”

Meanwhile inside, you had dampened your pillows with tears due to the dream of your happy childhood that just woke you up. Megumi's voice startled you as you tried to compose yourself.

You had noticed it. He had become even more considerate for you as of late, perhaps driven by sheer pity or sympathy. You didn’t care which—the fact that he did at all warmed your heart in a way you wouldn’t find the correct word to describe with, and you were grateful for his unflappable presence.

You wiped away your tears, and replied. “Yes.”

Megumi entered your room then, in his black sweater and visibly weary eyes. Despite his exhaustion, his concern for you was evident as his gaze met yours. “Are you alright?”

“…I’m fine. Sorry if I woke you.”

“No, I was getting the water,” he explained. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

“Oh no... Not really.”

He hummed. “Want some company?”

You blinked. You would have never expected that Megumi would willingly offer you his presence just because he heard you sniffle to yourself at the dead of the night.

It was tempting—to continuously take advantage of his kindness. You knew it wasn’t right. You swore you knew.

But tonight…

Fushiguro Megumi is still your husband. By name and law it might be, but he did all his husbandly duties perfectly regardless. He was there to defend you, and hold you when you lost the only thing that mattered in your life.

And so as any wife would, you took up the offer of being in his presence. “Yeah.”

Megumi closed the door to your bedroom and studied you intently, his dark eyes narrowing. "Have you eaten tonight? I'm sorry I missed dinner. My mission ran late."

You found comfort in that simple question. "I didn't have the appetite. Anyway, it's okay."

His brow furrowed at your answer. "You can't go without eating anything. You'll get hungry and miserable."

To your surprise, Megumi left your room and then returned promptly, holding a box of cheesecake from a popular bakery in his hand.

"When did you get that?"

"On the way after finishing my job," he replied curtly, offering the treat. "Here. Eat now."

You were slightly taken aback as the pretty cheesecake was now in your hands. "It's midnight. I'm going to build up calories," you whined but clamped your mouth shut when he threw you a withering look. With a sigh, you pierced the fork through the fluffy cake and took a bite.

It was tasty, and you shyly indulged in another bite as Megumi smirked, as if silently conveying an "I told you so."

"No longer feeling as miserable, are we?" he asked with a hint of laughter.

You just hummed in response, avoiding eye contact. He chuckled. "Good then. I'm glad you like it."

It occurred to you that Megumi actually didn't like sweet things. He always took his coffee black, and he rarely ate the pastries you'd bring back. So he must have bought this with you in mind.

A warm feeling enveloped you, realizing that someone still cared about you enough to consider your feelings and bring you comfort.

"Thank you, Megumi," you mumbled, looking down at the half-eaten cake. The loss of your mother still stung you and in the darkest corner of your heart, you barely managed to find the will to continue living. But Megumi's presence made it better, a hundred times over. And most of all, you feel safe with him.

"Don't mention it." He breathed a sigh of relief.

It wouldn’t have been easy, and he knew it was going to take time. Healing was a process, and he was willing to be there every step of the way.

“Your eyes are red,” he pointed out. “Do you want me to get you a cool compress?”

You responded while still chewing the cheesecake. “Mmm, no. That’s okay.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Last time you didn’t listen to me, you almost tripped if I didn’t catch you.”

“That’s purely by accident! And hey, did you remember when we—”

That night, you and Megumi sat together on your bed, reminiscing about various things before eventually basking in comfortable silence. You didn't know when you started getting sleepy, but you did and the next thing you knew, in the morning, the first sight that greeted you was Megumi's sleeping face.

He was here the entire night. And you realized that with him here, you were no longer overcome with the urge to weep as much.

What is this feeling? Why couldn't you take your eyes off him?

Megumi is fairly attractive. He looked grumpy and unfriendly by default, but even then he was still handsome. And now that he was defenseless like this, he looked soft. It was the sight only you, his wife, got to see. No one else could come close to see him like this as you did.

Because you are his wife, and he is your husband.

In this very marriage that you instigated.

Your chest twinged as a wave of guilt washed over you. How could you forget that? You were a sinner. All of this pain and suffering—you had brought it upon yourself, and your mother had paid the price.

A fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes. Your sweet mother. She was the reason of this whole sham marriage. Now that the reason no longer existed, there was truly no need for either you or Megumi to continue on this path.

It felt even worse because you were falling for your husband. You might have deceived yourself until now, but this was an undeniable moment of truth. You weren't exactly sure when it had started, but you had willingly let Megumi capture your heart and have it. He was blunt but reliable and treated you well. Truth be told, you were genuinely enjoying this new life too.

But this has to stop. You couldn't fool over him forever. For his sake, you had to let him go.

Today was Sunday, so neither of you had to work. You had gone to the kitchen to ponder how you should bring the topic up when he stumbled in, still looking half-asleep.

"Ah, I fell asleep in your room," he remarked, yawning. The sight tugged your heartstrings because he looked so unguarded. You wanted to smother him, hug him, kiss him even―

No. This fantasy ends here.

"Megumi," you began, your tone carrying an edge that instantly put him on alert. "We need to talk."

He visibly frowned. "Yes?"

And nothing would've prepared him for the words coming out of you next.

"I think we should get a divorce."

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter six : a longer dream

🏷️ taglist

@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi x oc #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #fushiguro megumi angst #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi fluff #series: unholy matrimony

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but you should make an OC.

You should make an OC. Specifically a Spider-Sona. Like now. Preferably yesterday. [A MEDIUM-LONG essay about OC's, fanfiction, and how to enrich and better your writing skills in literally every sector. Throughout this essay I reference my two characters Disco-Spider and Inca-Spider as examples of the way OCs can be used.]

_________________________________________

"But no one cares about OCs -"

OKKAYYYY??

IDK about ya'll but fandom is NOT my final destination no siree

I feel like a lot of the time we get so caught up in posting and notes we forget that for many artists and writers on this platform - fanfiction is not the true end goal.

Many of us write and draw fanart for years -

But the fact of the matter is if you want to be an author someday, if you want to be a graphic novelist, an animator, etc, etc - You're going to HAVE to make OCs.

If you want to study English in college or publish books - you're gonna have to write an OC at least once. If not hundreds of times.

If you want to study art - chances are at some point you're gonna have to fill a portfolio with original pieces, including some of OCs.

If you want to do something with your writing, if you want to get better - or make a career out of your art, you HAVE to make OCs at some point.

And this is especially true for fanfiction writers.

You can get very very very good at writing in your specific fandoms, you may have the emotions of the characters on point, and the ability to describe the scenery.

But if you don't know how to create and design a character - if you don't know how to worldbuild, or come up with scenarios without the help of characterai and ChatGPT - you won't be able to write a book.

If you're an artist and you don't know how to draw an original character from scratch, how to match colors, how to draw certain skin tones, certain hair, wheelchairs and mobility aids, how to design a character from looks, to clothing - it's going to be so hard to expand your art outside of fanart. You'll always be beholden to the notes and popularity of your particular fandom.

Do it - even if you've never written or never draw before. Even better.

That's why I CHAMPION Spider-sonas so much. They're basically OCs on easy mode.

Can't write backgrounds yet? Here's a bucket on canon events to pick from? Can't draw faces? Blank mask with eyes.

Hell, if you're really really new about it - just pick a character and make a slightly different variant. Make a Hobie of your own, make a Peter variant. Make a Mary Jane variant. Pick a something you like and turn that into a character.

Can't write? Just fill-in the 'My name is [blank], I was bitten by a [blank]' script that Miles does. Can't draw, just draw out a basic shape of a body and color-out the suit, no fancy pose needed. That still counts!!

Make a self-insert. Make yourself fit into the story, design your suit, write out how you fight crime, how you'd act at the Society, meeting Miguel or Miles.

That's still character design, that's still worldbuilding.

We always hear people say 'Make art for yourself' and yeah that sounds nice - but people also misinterpret it.

Make art for yourself doesn't just mean making art that you personally like.

Making art for yourself also means making art that develops your skills even if no one gives a fuck. It's about making art as practice without the intention of it being 'completed', making OCs that never get used, drawing locations you see or writing a random ass short story then shoving it into your Google Drive forever.

Making art for yourself means making art that invests in yourself.

It means making art that interests you, challenges you, or helps you develop.

And making OC's helps develop your fanfic writing skills.

In may fandoms we begin to fall into these routine 'tropes' between characters and their personalities. This is usually known as the 'fanon' characterization.

Because when you have a set amount of characters and people, there's also a set amount of interactions and relationships between those people.

Writing OCs and having those OCs interact with canon characters allows you to dig deeper into sides of the canon characters we'd never otherwise see.

That's why I wrote Disco-Spider Diane like I do. Often, we see Hobie characterized as the chaotic, rowdy, confident type - which is perfect characterization for him. But in almost all of his interactions - he's the wilder, bolder, extroverted one. I wanted to put him in a situation where for once, he was the calmer one. I wanted to explore more grounded and chill sides of Hobie, one where he's the one grounding the other, and thinking logically - because in canon, we're hinted at a side of Hobie who's way more methodical and slow-paced and willing to stop and wait it out and play it off. And I wanted to see that. I wanted to explore what he'd do if he was faced with someone just as chaotic, who put on a cheeky ironic act - just the same as him.

Because no other characters serve that purpose in canon.

If there are elements of a character or concept you think are interesting but outright ignored by canon and fanon, you can create an OC to explore those parts.

For Disco-Spider: I wanted to explore how someone like a militant Black Panther would handle being Spider-woman, when Spider-people are usually shown as pacifists - what that would look like or how it'd shape her morals based on era, etc. For Inca-Spider: I realized there were so many culture based Spider people like Pavitr and Spider-UK. But none for indigenous communities, and NONE from countries that only existed in other universes. So, I created an indigenous character from Tawanti - a country that's located where Peru would be for us.

You can give a canon character a sibling, to explore how they'd interact with family. Give them a partner that acts totally different than their canon partner, write how that'd change the way they show love.

OC's make your original writing better, AND your fanfiction writing too. They can help you understand canon characters on a deeper level.

And sure, nobody likes your OC. NOW.

But every single character you write about, is someones OC. Every character you write about was once treated that way. Once upon a time, Dean Winchester was just some rando character in the pilot script of a show that hadn't picked up yet. Probably no one gave a fuck until CW picked it up.

The writers had to not only make him and develop him - they had to BELIEVE in him enough to pitch him to a TV show channel to make people care.

That's always the first step. Believing your character's story is worthy enough of being told and presenting it as such.

ESPECIALLY if your OC represents a demographic you don't see represented. Cause yes if there isn't any black women in canon then I'll Thanos this shit and do it myself.

Make OCs.

Write them. Draw them. Even if it's bad. Who the hell cares. Big Mouth is on Netflix with multiple seasons, have you seen that show?? 'Ugly' art is not a crime.

Make piccrews, fill out OCforms or take quiz's as them. Write little blurbs of them hanging with canon characters then post it in the tag.

You don't need a huge Spidersona sheet or a long long fic explaining their backstory. They can just be there.

MAKE OCs.

Make them to explore more in your fanfiction, make them so future you can write that novel or draw or that comic or sell those prints or whatever it is you plan to do.

Make it so your fanfiction AND original writing can grow stronger. It isn't just about notes and content and follows.

Make an OC. Make a Spidersona. Literally you have nothing to lose but your chains.

"Nobody cares-"

Oh they'll care when you pop out with that 6-book publishing deal. They'll care when you're designing big characters for movies. Cause that's how it happens. Watch.

ANYWAYSSSS if you made it this far I hope this inspired you to at least play around with the idea of OCs and Spidersonas in general.

Here's Hobie.

BYE.

If you want to make a sona and are kinda lost on where to start, lemme know!! Because I think they're amazing starting places for those who have never written or drawn before. Or if you have a sona but want to develop them further.

I haven't seen a guide to spidersonas and i wonder if that's something some people might want/need.

Seriously if I can even get one person into writing or drawing I'll be over the goddamn moon.

MAKE OCS PLEASE.

#I wanted to write a little post of positivity and it became a boatload #You gotta believe in yourself fam you got to #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #spidersona #spidersonas #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fanart #ocs #oc art #fic writing #writing advice #writing #art #fan art #oc x canon #f/o #self insert

[dfortrafalgar]

Looooooved ILY! Kudos! It was chair-gripping, tear drenching, rot your teeth fluffy and a bunch of other things in between! Brava! 🥰

If you're still accepting requests (I don't know if you have already been flooded by messages or not) I would like a story about being part of the Kid Pirates but reader is in a really sour mood because it's the anniversary of readers's parents death (you can make up a story if you'd like) and reader disobeys a direct order from him and, to top it off, reader talks back at him in front of the crew, earning the reader a severe punishment (up to you). Eventually Kid finds out why reader's mood is so sour and tries to talk it out except Kid can't be soft and that just makes things more awkward. Could be SFW, could be NSFW, I'm leaving all this up to you. And the ending as well because I only got that far. I hope you like the idea and get excited.

I love your work! ❤️🥰 Thank you for sharing your talent.

HI ANON!!! thank you so much for your request and your super kind words over IMLY, that means so much to me!!!! i know i keep saying this but yall make me smile every single day when i log onto tumblr and see your messages <3

I also really loved writing this request! i really love Kid, but i also wanna kick his ass on the playground if that makes sense, and i think that sentiment came through in my writing ;w; I hope you like it!!! and thank you again!!! (Also, i kept the reason for your parents' death ambiguous, because i know some people (myself included) read fics with their ocs in mind, so you're free to fill in the vagueness with your own personal ideas if you want!)

Feeling Overhaul

Eustass Kid x Fem Reader

The anniversary of your parents' death always leaves you feeling shallow, but your boyfriend's lack of social and situational awareness crops up to make your day even worse.

Warnings: SFW, hurt/comfort, reader being understandably upset, descriptions of an argument with some veeeeery slight verbal abuse, once again hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort. communication is key loves

Your sour mood had been steadily building over the last few days, but your sorrow reached its peak on the last day of the week, according to the barely legible crew calendar that was based off of when the messenger coos arrived with the weekly paper.  It was a day you despised thinking about, the memories associated with the day leaving your throat tight, an uncomfortable malaise in the pit of your stomach.

All things considered, you thought you were doing a decent job at keeping your emotions in check while performing your usual duties on the Victoria Punk.  The bow of the deck needed a thorough scrubbing, a few spots in the walls of the crow’s nest needed repairs from a recent run in with a smaller, weaker pirate crew, and a few secondary sails needed their holes patched up.  It was a perfect day to distract yourself from your woes.  Drowning your discontent in your work had become quite a valuable skill.

Until you slipped on the soap that lathered the hard wood of the bow and fell flat on your ass.  When trying to stand, your hands gave out under you and you hit the deck once more, one of your crew mates tossing you anxious glances as you struggled to regain your bearings.  Climbing up to the crow’s nest, you were plagued with a sudden wash of grief over the day, so much so that you lost your grip and slipped down the Jacobs ladder, your foot catching on one of the wooden rungs beneath you.  Wire was directly under you, climbing as well to assist with the crow’s nest repairs, and his method of helping you after your slip involved gripping your arm so hard it left a bruise.  You bit back your tears at the pain of your crewmate’s hand around your limb and the humiliation of almost falling 12 feet onto the hard wooden hull, but you once again bit back your shame and finished your arduous climb up.

By the afternoon, word had gotten around the Victoria Punk that your work was lacking, that you were clearly struggling with something, that perhaps you weren’t feeling well.  When it finally got around to Captain Eustass Kid, who doubled as your beloved partner, he was less than pleased.

The last thing he wanted to do was deal with your emotions, and the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his abrasive, apathetic attitude.

“Care to explain why the hell the entire crew has caught you slacking off today?” he demanded, thundering toward you in one of the upper corridors of the ship’s hull.  You were still returning some of the tools you had used to patch up the ship’s sails when he accosted you in the hallway.  It was almost dinner hour, and many of the crew were bustling through the same corridors finishing their afternoon tasks before meal time.

“What?” you snapped back, caught off guard by his threatening question.

“Don’t ‘What’ me.  Why have you been tripping and falling everywhere?  What kind of joke are you trying to play?”  His face was angry, livid even, not granting you even one second to explain your plight.

Your eyebrows furrowed.  “I’m not trying to bumble around the boat like an idiot.  I’m just not feeling well and haven’t been able to focus.”

Kid scoffed.  “Then get over it.”

Perhaps you were being irrational, but at the same time, you had officially had enough of the entire day.  You dropped your supplies on the floor around your feet, heat radiating off of your body in waves.  “What did you just say to me?”

Your captain bent down to be at your level, which was insulting to your current state.  “Get.  Over.  It.”

Anger boiled in your lungs, lighting your heart on fire, blinding the corners of your vision with a fuzzy white light.  You tried to turn your back to him and escape down the corridor, but yelped when Kid grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” he asked.  He really couldn’t control the sound of his voice, regardless of his current emotion, and the volume of his shouts filling the space made your body tense up in fear.  Eyes watching the scene unfold around you widened.

Around the corner behind Kid’s back, Killer darted forward, alerted to the sounds emanating from the narrow passage.  “Kid, chill out!”

“Are you going to care about me any more if I tell you?” you demanded back, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip.  His flesh hand held firm, however, almost burning your skin.  He shrugged Killer’s own hand off of his shoulder forcefully, completely ignoring his friend’s plea to calm himself somewhat.

Kid rolled his eyes.  “It better be damn important if it’s got you almost falling off of the Jacobs ladder.”

You steeled yourself, sucking in an uneasy breath and facing your stubborn partner head on.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.  I’ve never been able to feel alright when I think about them.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence that floated between the two of you, the air in the hallway thrumming with a suffocating tension.  Kid’s grip finally relaxed on your wrist, allowing you to yank it away and rub your sore skin.  His red-painted lips finally parted, and all he graced your ear drums with was, “That’s it?”

Your heart dropped.  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”

“Parents die all the time.  What makes today so different?”  His narrow eyes were back to their scathing glare.

At this point, however, you had had enough.  You were practically shaking with a barely contained rage of your own as you stepped closer to your captain and spat in his face, causing him to stagger backward, giving you enough space to let your emotions bubble outward.  “I don’t have to tell you shit if you’re going to talk to me like that!  In front of the entire crew?!  Just because you’re my captain doesn’t mean you get the excuse to accost me in the hallway and berate me for slipping a few times.”  You frantically dug through your brain for words to add to your outburst, perhaps asking how he had the sheer gall to have such an attitude toward you despite dropping his walls and being so kind toward you on an average day, but all you could muster in response was, “Fuck you, Kid.”

You stepped away from him, narrowly missing another one of his lunges to get you to stay.  His voice was low and intimidating.  “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Then don’t tell me that my day of grieving is stupid!  Fuck!  You!” you spat back, finally turning on your heels and sprinting out of his reach, down the hallway and into the ladder well into the lower deck, desperate to get as far away from your captain as possible.  You knew he was prone to struggling with empathy, and kindness had never been one of his strong suits, but to be talked to in such a way, have your feelings belittled after you had almost severely injured yourself as a consequence of your lacking mental health, hurt more than a stab to the liver.

Kid’s burning gaze followed you as you fled, harshly turning on his own heels to slink to the galley and drown his frustrations in whatever liquor the crew had acquired from the last island.  He bumped Killer’s shoulder, forcing the blonde to the side.  The crew watched as their captain rounded the corner out of sight.

---

You didn’t arrive for the dinner call, your usual seat left unfilled and the plate uneaten.  A few crew mates who hadn’t witnessed the explosive scene from an hour ago asked around for your whereabouts, but the only one who bothered to stand up and search for you was Quincy who quickly ate her meal and abandoned the table.

Kid was pounding back alcohol like no one’s business, leading to many a concerned glance.

“Kid,” Killer muttered.  He rested his masked head in his hand, desperate for context at what he had previously run in on.  “What happened?”

“Nothing,” the red-head grumbled, throwing back another mug of golden beer, some of it dribbling down the side of his mouth.

The few straggling crew members who remained around the large dining table shared worried looks.

“It’s clearly not nothing,” Killer countered.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Kid.  Even at the age of 23, he was still no better than a bratty little child when things didn’t go his way.

Killer dropped the subject with a sigh, the sound escaping the holes in his mask with a subdued hiss.

Quincy, on the other hand, carefully opened the door to the women’s bunk room where she found you, curled on your side on the mattress that used to belong to you when you first joined the Kid Pirates, your face buried in a pillow and your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Darling,” she cooed, silently tapping across the floor to sit on the side of the bed, her gentle hand ghosting over your arm.  “What happened?  Why didn’t you come to dinner?”

The sound of her voice unraveled you from your coil, your tear-stained face and puffy red eyes meeting her concerned stare.  “Kid and I had a fight,” was all you said.

“About?”

You rolled onto your back, clutching the pillow that was thoroughly drenched in your salty tears to your abdomen.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death, and when Kid asked me what was wrong, he told me, ‘What makes today so different, parents die all the time.’  Like…?” your voice wavered, “Who says that?  And to his girlfriend nonetheless!”

Quincy made a disappointed tsk sound with her tongue, sympathetically rubbing your arm through the sleeve of your shirt.  “Honey, he’s stupid.  But still, he was wrong to speak to you like that.”

You sniffled, wiping some snot from your face with the arm that wasn’t being caressed by your close friend.  “I know… but it still hurts.  I wish he could just… I don’t know… be nicer to me?”

For what it was worth, both of you knew that Kid wasn’t truly ‘stupid.’  He was strong, strategic, and resilient, but when it came to matters of the heart, his brain dwarfed to the size of a peanut.  It was only a matter of getting the headstrong captain to realize how he had truly hurt you.

“Honey, sleep in here for a few nights to get a proper rest, away from him,” Quincy offered, standing up from her seat on your mattress to approach one of the wardrobes, pulling out a comfortable shirt and baggy pants to relax in.  “Let this blow over for a little while, and then you can try to talk it out with him.  We can help if you need it.”

You sat up yourself, gratefully taking the clothing from her arms, a small smile on your lips.  “Thanks, Quin.”

The curly-haired woman left the bunkhouse to let you change, passing by Killer trudging through the hallway, a towel draped over his scarred arm.  “Hey, have you talked to Kid?”

“He’s drunk off his ass right now,” Killer grumbled, dragging his free hand down his mask in a display of exasperation.  “I couldn’t get him to tell me what happened, but he’s gonna be out of it for the rest of the evening.”

Quincy bit the inside of her cheek as she assessed the first mate’s message.  “I’ll tell you.”

---

It had been about three days since the argument Kid had blasted you with in front of your crew mates, your humiliation and anger toward your captain burning a hole into your lungs.  You couldn’t contain your tears for at least six hours after your initial outburst, the grief of losing your parents in the way you had all those years ago now partnered with the anguish of screaming at Kid… and spitting on his face.  The act was so beneath you, and yet.  Dive and Hip, who had seen the argument first-hand, had helped to assure you that you weren’t in the wrong for what you had said, reassuring your stance that Kid was far too intimidating when all he wanted was a simple answer for your strange behavior.

Heat had come to you with a covered plate containing the dinner you had missed, informing you that Kid still had a very poor system of managing his emotions.  While you understood this first hand, being his partner for the better part of a year, you still didn’t believe that was a proper excuse to diminish your emotions in the way he had.

After those three days of your absence, strategically avoiding him at all hours of the day, Kid was fed up.  He needed to talk.  His bed was too empty without you.

Killer told him it would be a bad idea to call you to his quarters, but he did it anyway.  And when your anxious knocking reverberated through the thick wooden door of his cabin, he was quick to call your name and grant you entry.

You stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you, keeping your head low.  Kid stood from his mattress, clearing the floor in broad steps and trying his best to lay on the charm, wrapping his large arm around you and cooing his best, casual greeting, “Hey, babe, I’ve missed you.”

You shrugged yourself away from him, your eyes downcast.  You looked… hollow.  “Did you want something from me, captain?”

Kid felt a foreign pang deep in his chest.  You hadn’t been referring to him as your boyfriend or partner.  Right now, he was strictly ‘captain,’ and that notion left him feeling far too empty and vulnerable for his liking.

Fuck, he wasn’t good at this in any way.

Your gaze bore scorching holes into his own eyes, silently demanding the apology that you knew you deserved to hear from him.  With a deep sigh, Kid turned around and stomped back to his mattress, dropping his head into his hands.

“I didn’t know your parents died,” he blurted.

You stayed quiet.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”  His voice was a low grumble.

You suppressed a scoff.  “How about, ‘Sorry for yelling at you in front of the crew?’  Or, ‘I’m sorry for saying that your feelings don’t matter.’  Something like that, maybe.”  Your voice, in comparison, was eerily level, your time to be physically upset with the situation having expired two days ago.  Now all you were left with was an uncomfortable feeling of unease, a hole in your heart where Kid usually sat now being emptied and replaced with a barren cavern that desperately wished to be occupied by the man you loved once more.

Because you really did love him.  You knew his lifestyle, his behaviors, his tendencies toward cruelty.  And yet, he remained kind toward you.  He allowed you to open up to him and did the same in turn, and he nestled himself perfectly, albeit clumsily, into your life.  You didn’t want to lose that.

Watching as Kid clearly struggled forming those two little words on his tongue was like watching someone perform self-surgery.  His pride had impeded his sense of empathy for so long that the simple notion of apologizing was such an estranged concept for him.

How stunted.

But you held firm, remaining in front of his closed door as he kept his head in his hand, his thick fingers teasing through his slightly greasy red hair.  After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked his head up.  “I’m sorry.”

There it was.

He continued, sucking in a shaky breath.  “I really didn’t know it was the anniversary of your family’s death.  I wish I asked you about it sooner instead of… that.”

You stayed quiet.

“... Instead of yelling at you like that.  And attacking you for something that was out of your control.”  He kept his voice low, as if he was carefully picking out his words from a small bucket inside his thick skull.

After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, you released the tension in your shoulders with a sigh.  “And I’m sorry for spitting on you.  And for cursing you out.”

“No, you shouldn’t apologize,” Kid stated, finally picking up his head and gazing at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  “I deserved it, really.”  His fingers anxiously rubbed the rough fabric of his pants.  “Killer sat me down and gave me a bit of a beat down.  Physically and verbally.  Because I know I’m not good at this.  I’m not a good person.  And I really fucked up with you.”

You remained firm with your feelings, but you finally approached his bed and sat next to him, leaving a comfortable gap between your bodies that your captain, your partner, didn’t try to close.  He kept his distance from you, silently ensuring that you were allowed, and encouraged, to open up to him when you were the most comfortable.

“I just want to make sure that you actually mean it,” you whispered.  “And that you’re not just saying that without believing it.”

“I mean it,” Kid confirmed, his voice unwavering.  “I really do.”

You gazed at him apprehensively.  “... Promise?”

Silently, Kid held out his pinky toward you.

You looked at his finger, confusion glossing your features.  “What are you doing?”

“Have you never made a pinky promise before?” he asked.

Your mouth threatened to curl into a small smile.  “Can’t say that I have.”

Kid released his hand only so he could take yours, folding your fingers down so only your own pinky stuck out from your fist.  He repeated the motion with his own hand, curling his smallest digit around your own.  “It’s a promise that I mean what I said.  Killer and I used to do this all the time as kids.”

Your composure finally broke as you snorted, your own finger curling around his.  “That’s sweet…”

“The point is that, if I break the promise, you get to break my finger,” he explained.

“Suddenly everything makes sense,” you uttered, your lips finally curling into a grin.  “Don’t give me an excuse to break your finger.”

In response to your lighthearted plea, Kid raised his hand with yours still attached and pulled back down in a handshake gesture.  “Never.”

Your finger stayed curled around his as you gazed at your hand.  “I’m still kind of upset with you.”

Kid’s shoulders stiffened.  “I get why.”  After you stayed silent for a few extra moments, he finally asked, “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Your eyes bore into his once more, his gaze remaining steady as well.  “You can start by not jumping to conclusions… or being accusatory without any context.”  You sighed.  “I’m not telling you to change your entire personality, Kid, because I know who you are.  And I fell in love with the normal, regular You.  But I just ask for a little bit of kindness.”

Kid released your pinky in order to lace his entire hand with yours.  “I’ll give you more than a little.”

“Or I can break your pinky?” you asked once more, another small smile breaking out on your face.

Your partner grinned.  “I’ll throw myself overboard if you ask.”

You finally closed the gap between your bodies, tentatively laying your head on his shoulder.  “No… I wouldn’t want to lose you like that.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #one piece kid #request fics

[ohheythisisagoodname]

write your name with hearts

featuring: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, tamaki amajiki, shinso hitoshi note: so sorry their all kinda short so i could fit them all without doing a second part

izuku (i can't tell if this is a person of broccoli....)

~ he was taking notes on you and your quirk one day

~ poor baby didn't even notice it because he was going on and on about your quirk until uraraka pointed it out in curiosity

~ his face lit up like a tomato

~ he tried to explain somehow but failed... horribly...

~ he actually ended up doing it a few more times

~ you caught him doing it once and he closed (slammed) his book faster than the speed on light. At least he didn't say he didn't do it.

~ after that you would always look over his paper sometimes to try and catch him in the act but after that he's never been caught again, doesn't mean he doesn't do it though.

~ it's just something he can't get over now

bakugo (the angry pomeranian. best friends a simp so might be a little bit oc-ish)

~ even he doesn't know what happened but one second his writing with his head in his hands and the next he's a blushing mess.

~ you had walked past his desk and when you saw it you pointed it out.

~ bakugo would extremely blush, but then he would try to hide it and start yelling at you telling you to mind your own business and start saying your delusional.

~ afterward after class he would go straight to his dorm a blushing mess.

~ like deku you would never find him doing it again.

~ for weeks after that you would be on his mind, he would think about that god awful moment.

~ he tried to play off the thoughts running in his head about your pretty little face as you had asked about it.

~ god he loved that curious glint in your eyes, but he'll NEVER say so.

shoto (it's icy thought on thursdays)

(help i have no idea how he would act, soo soo soo sorry this is gonna be so ooc, but all of them are soo...)

~ deku finds him doing it and asks him about it quietly so you couldn't hear shoto was writing your name with hearts.

~ he automatically erases it and stares at deku with a poker face "who's y/n?"

~ deku would automatically fall silent. "eh... um... nevermind." deku would say ending that awkward conversation.

~ of course somehow word about it would get to you, how? no idea. don't ask me.

~ you could ask shoto about it but he would just ghost the question.

~ like bakugo he would never be seen doing it again but his feelings for you would escalate from that day.

denki (my cute little sparky boy who lit a spark in my heart)

~ kiri found out about denki tending to write your name (yes in yellow hearts. get it? haha, i'm so funny... ha... ha... i'm delusional and a idiot...)

~ denki openly admitted it with an energetic smile

~ after going on and on about for a full hour with bakugo and kiri just staring at him like he's a simp (but i'm a bigger simp)

~ after that he just sat back down laughing awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.

~ if you had asked him about it though his brain would fry like when he uses his quirk and he would become a blushing mess

~ if you didn't though he would just stay cocky about it thinking that if you ever found out he'd just have a chance to ask you out but as you can see... it failed... horribly...

~ he would still ask you out though... in this brain... his fried brain...

~ but all that you would get was a blushing mess and incomprehensible babbles.

~ he would try again once he's brain wasn't on the fritz but his brain fried again thinking about it... holly ratatouille he's cute

tamaki (no.1 shy boi of my heart, ligt changing songs just for him, now playing "i can't handle change" by roar,)

~ you thought the others were nervous? oh boy... ignore getting your brain fried, ignore turning into a tomato, ignore whatever shoto and bakugo were. this shy boy right here is the real deal.

~ mario *ahem* i mean mirio caught tamaki in the act and asked about it.

~ of course tamaki blushed, with that quivering smile appearing on his lips.

~ tamaki being mirio's best friend told him about his feelings for you and mirio being mirio promised not to tell a soul

~ but once nejire told mirio about your little crush on tamaki mirio told nejire about tamaki's little crush on you. and then the word spread like wildfire

~ once tamaki had figured it out he was in a full blown panic attack

~ poor baby didn't even consider you liked him back and thought it was all a prank on him for liking

~ it took a lot of convincing for him to finally understand you liked him back

shinso (my beautiful insomniac who would keep me company through those bad nights)

~ umm... so who's the worst person to find you writing your crush's name with hearts? stop thinking its aizawa.

~ as soon as he catches shinso writing your name with hearts next to it.... damn... his own Protégé having a crush on his own student...

~ aizawa doesn't exactly hate the idea of shinso getting a girl/boyfriend but at the same time they could get in the way of hero work.

~ aizawa keeps it to himself that he knows shinso's crush but shinso had noticed something was off about the way mr.aizawa would act when he and you were together

~ once shinso had asked about it and aizawa explained shinso had birds over his head

~ after that he makes a deal with aizawa, he works as hard as he can and aizawa will help shinso get to go one a date with her and boy shinso kept his word

bye bye

none of it is my art

#my hero acedamia headcanons #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #shoto todoroki #denki kaminari #tamaki amajiki #shinsou hitoshi #izuku x reader #bakugou x reader #shoto x reader #denki x reader #tamaki x reader #shinsou x reader #horrible jokes

[saintsenara]

As someone who isn't the biggest Hermione fan and keeps it quiet because greater fandom LOVES her, I'm honestly gagging for more of your Hermione takes. Especially your takes on fanon Hermione, who I can't STAND. Have a good one x

thank you very much, anon - there are dozens of us!

hermione is certainly the character i struggle to find common ground with the most - and this has been the case since i first read philosopher's stone as a child.

[which has actually been a really fascinating pop-culture experience - i think we tend to overlook, both because the media landscape and its representation of child and teen girls has changed since the 1990s and because of jkr's increasingly harmful views on gender, just how groundbreaking hermione was as a female protagonist in media which wasn't marketed primarily or exclusively towards girls. there is a reason why so many girls and women identified with her when the books were coming out - and it was very interesting for me growing up to not be one of them.]

the cause of my beef with hermione is for the incredibly petty reason that i find people who possess many of her more... striking traits quite difficult to deal with in real life, particularly if they don't acknowledge [which people in the hermione vein often don't...] that these traits are things it might benefit them to work on in their interpersonal relationships...

but this doesn't prevent me recognising that canon!hermione [and any real person like her] is interesting - and that her more annoying traits work well with her more straightforwardly admirable ones to create a fully-rounded character who, from a fanfiction perspective, is a great vehicle for all sorts of tropes, themes, and storylines.

which brings us - of course - to fanon!hermione...

fanon!hermione is, at her core, another brick in the wall of mary-sues. she's beautiful, and so clever she can solve millennia-old puzzles without batting an eyelid, and she's preternaturally emotionally intelligent, and she's morally spotless, and she's always right, and the story's preferred romantic partner worships the ground she walks on, and anyone who doesn't like her is punished.

i don't think - to be clear - that there is anything wrong, per se, with people wanting to write fanon!hermione [nor, to be frank, with other flawless fanon versions of female characters, oc mary-sues, or self-indulgent self-inserts - i'll defend the right to have fun with characters to the death]. this is a hobby, and people's way of engaging with that hobby doesn't have to appeal to me - it's fun escapism sometimes to write a character who is wonderful and perfect and beloved and has a sexy partner; and when it comes to accusations of writing someone "out-of-character", let she who is without sin cast the first stone...

but i also think - and [sigh] here comes some discourse - that fanon!hermione is part of a slight... girlbossification of female characters in the harry potter fandom [and presumably in others, i just don't follow closely enough to know] which i've always been a little uneasy about.

i understand why this happens - this fandom, like many, has an overwhelming preference for making blorbos of male characters and for imagining these characters in slash relationships. the treatment of female characters in slash subfandoms - i.e. tonks in wolfstar spaces; lily in jegulus spaces - is often straightforwardly misogynistic, and even in cases where it isn't, female characters are often shuffled quietly to the sidelines, except when they pop up - often suddenly in a queer pairing of their own - to benignly cheerlead the male couple.

and i think it's good that this is challenged - as i also think it's good that the heteronormative vibes of a lot of slash are challenged - and that we, as a fandom, are increasingly interested in female-centric works [whether focused on a romantic pairing or otherwise] and discussions. i hope these continue to take up fandom space.

but i have also noticed that the way female characters are written and talked about in these context is - as i've said - quite #girlboss in its approach. the focus is on women as clever and competent and feisty and unruffled and brave.

[including female villains, there are a lot of girlboss bellatrixes knocking around...]

and great! it should be! - but from what i've seen this also comes accompanied by a resistance to the idea that women can also be boring, unintelligent, self-infantilising, vain, arrogant, ignorant, talentless, meek, domestic, rude, dislikable, conservative, incurious, complicit in their own victimisation, plain wrong, and so on, and not only still be worthy of exploration, but be worthy of these characteristics not being automatically considered bad things for someone to possess and it not being seen as letting down the sisterhood to explore a woman who possesses them.

and, sure, hermione cannot be described as many of these things - but she is...

self-righteous; cruel; petty; from a privileged class background in the muggle world which blinkers her understanding of the class structure of the wizarding one; stubborn; terrible under pressure; shown by the text to be intelligent largely due to an ability to rote learn; a people-pleaser with a tendency towards a slightly hagrid-ish blind loyalty; extremely deferential to authority and willing to tolerate cruel treatment from authority figures [i.e. snape]; the most childlike of the trio [she takes her schoolbooks on the run and reads through them for comfort! she's an enormous animal lover!]; interested in one of form of stereotypical femininity [knitting! wearing pretty dresses!] even if she rejects the form of stereotypical femininity liked by e.g. parvati and lavender [and anyone who thinks she's not going to get along with her mother-in-law because molly's a housewife is dead wrong - she's having the time of her life helping put together a sunday lunch at the burrow]; possessed of a filthy sense of humour [i will never understand why emma watson said that the key to playing her was to be prim...]; someone who obviously wants to be liked and to be loved; and so on...

[and also, by the end of the pre-epilogue narrative, eighteen. she's often written in fics in a way which makes her sound like she's seen a lot of life - especially if the fic wants to claim she's "too mature" to bother with men her own age... but she hasn't - she's a teenager, and the reason she's so unpolished and abrasive is because literally all teenagers are unpolished and abrasive. it's just one of the mortifying agonies of growing up.]

we should love this. it makes her thorny and messy and mixed-up and human - and i am perfectly delighted by explorations of her character which delve into unravelling this tangle.

i just like her less as someone who is there to be right and beloved and uncriticised.

unless it's by ron. everyone should be uncomplicatedly adored by their wife guy.

#asks answered #in defence of... #hermione granger #annoying canon version only #we love unlikeable women in this house #reject the girlboss paradigm

[oddinary4bts]

November Sun | jjk

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.

☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

                The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.

Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.

It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?

Jungkook thinks it is.

He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?

Jungkook doesn’t want to know.

Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.

Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.

He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.

He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.

You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.

Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?

*****

                “I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”

He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.

“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”

“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.

“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”

Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.

“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”

You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.

For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.

“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”

“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.

So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”

You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”

He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”

An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.

“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.

“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”

You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”

“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”

*****

                The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.

Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.

Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.

But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.

He did find you again, only you never knew.

*****

                Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.

He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.

The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.

He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.

His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.

He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.

He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.

He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.

And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.

You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.

The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.

The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.

Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.

He would have rather not known the name.

Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.

Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.

*****

                When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.

He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.

He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.

And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?

Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?

It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.

Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.

If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.

You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.

He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.

He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.

Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.

And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.

All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.

Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.

It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.

He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.

He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.

That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.

The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.

Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.

Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.

Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.

“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”

The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.

“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.

What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?

“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.

He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.

“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”

“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”

Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.

Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.

“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”

“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.

He doesn’t think it’s himself.

“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.

“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.

Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.

“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.

Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”

Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.

“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”

Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.

He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.

Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.

And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.

☆☆☆☆☆

I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

#november sun #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jjk #jjk angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk one shot #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook one shot #btswritersclub

[empressofthesunslittlecorner]

A rant about Aang and Byrke

WARNING NOT KATAANG FRIENDLY

CONTINUE WITH PRECAUTION

Hello my loves!

Here I'm with a new blog entry.

This time we will talk about Kataang, Aang and Byrke.

Since I'm writing a FanFic where Aang is paired with an OC, I thought I could tell you why I prefer Aang with OCs instead of Katara.

Just to be clear.

I like Aang.

I love Katara and would for this girl sell my liver.

But them together as a pair...please no!

Kataang is one of my NOTPs.

In my Let's Talk about Zutara post I pretty much said why I can't stand this pairing.

One is the age and maturity gap.

What does a 14-year-old want with a 12-year-old? It's just creepy, no matter the gender and it would have been better if they got together at like 22 and 20.

Even if I think Zutara is superior, I could grimly accept Kataang.

Second Aang and Katara are the worst version of their self together.

I haven't read the comics, but what I saw on Tumblr and on Legend of Korra was enough to make me angry.

Katara was reduce to Aang price, girlfriend, housewife and mother of his children.

The warrior girl we all loved, who never turned her back on people who needed her, became in the name of love (and Byrke) a shadow of herself.

Our real Katara would smack this wishy-washy version of herself to kingdom come!

Then we have Aang. The boy clearly turns into a Nice GuyTM when it's about Katara.

He kissed her TWICE, TWICE, without her consent and never said sorry for this.

He thinks he deserves her love because he is the Avatar (the hero) and that's how it be.

Till Season 2 Aang wasn't that worse about Katara, a lot of plotpoints pointed out that Aang obsession, I'm not calling it love, on Katara was not good.

He replaced the love for his people with Katara.

Erm, that's not healthy at all.

What Aang expierendec was traumatic, he is the sole suriver of a genocide, but he can't shove all his love for his people to Katara.

How can only one person hold this standards?

It's impossible.

Katara is a bandaid on a ripped arm.

A bandaid isn't going to fix Aang trauma.

He needed to really face it and accept it and let Katara go.

Guru Pathik told him he to let Katara go, but I don't think it was meant to say, don't love that girl anymore.

No, it was more like: you clearly are obsessed with her and think if she loves you all your hurt will go away, but this isn't the case!

Aang could still love Katara, he just needed to stop to put her on a pestal!

Then we know what happens, he let's her go, seems to get the Avatar State, but turn it down because Katara is in danger and he must save her.

Alright, we all would run to our loved one if they are in danger, but Aang, you are the Avatar.

The Avatar is the peacekeeper of this world.

Sadly he can't put his own desires forward, he has do to what was for the world right!

In the Crystal Catabombs he realizes this.

So he let's go of Katara to get the Avatar State and then gets shot down by Azula.

Then when the first episode of season 3 rolls around, you get the feeling that Aang learnend his lesson.

Because he was selfish, he lost his greatest eapan.

He needed to be better.

Only...after the first episode season 3 was really...bad.

I can't say it better.

If you compare it to the other two seasons...season 3 has mayor problems.

A lot of plotpoints get forgotten, Aang didn't learn from his mistakes, he acts entitled for Katara love and he gets his Avatar State back thanks to Deus-Ex-Machine Rock and even finds a way to handle Ozai thanks to Deus-Ex-Machine Lion Turtle.

How, HOW, did the creators look at this and want a golly what an awesome final?

It was not!

It was rushend and not earnend!

Because Aang is a selfinsert from Bryek.

They statet once in an interview that Kataang was reflection how they had a crush on their babysitter, who of course didn't wanted them and would go out with the "bad boy".

The bad boy here in question is Zuko, which is hilarious since Zuko is the most awkward dork.

So they wanted to create a story were the young hero gets the hot older girl.

No normal 14-year-old girl would date a 12-year-old and if she did call the police on her ass!

Avatar was only amazing because of writers like Aaron Ehasz, who turned Toph, who was supposed to be a boy and a love rival for Aang, into this badass girl who didn't let her disabilty stop her to become the greatest earthbender and inventer of metalbening in the world.

They truned Iroh into thee loveable and wise uncle and not like Byrke wanted into a spy for Ozai.

Also Azula was supposed to be a boy too, but she became the female villain we all loved and wish we would see in other media's too!

A lot of writer wanted also Zutara to happen and not Kataang.

If I remember right season 3 was so rushed and lacking because the movie-who-shall-not-be-named was in production and Bryke wanted the series to end before it.

A lot of concept were thrown out the window for it.

The writers wanted to make even a season 4, where Aang would even find other airbenders, but noooooooooooooooo we can't give Aang the healing he deserves, we must live out a fantasy trough this boy.

Looking at you Bryke.

Anyways we got, what we got and I'm so not happy about it.

Zutara should be canon and Aang should have found a girl who loved really, who was his equal and who didn't needed to be a broodmare for the air nomads, becasue there where still air nomads around.

Here we get back to my preference to ship Aang with OCs. Since I'm a big fan of the theoretical season four we would have gotten, it's only naturel to imagine own characters, since no canon characters exist for it.

I would have loved to see Aang with a descendant of Air Nomads. She learning from him, he learning from her, cute!

But let's be real if Aang is writing good he could work with a lot of characters.

Even canon ones like On Ji. I found her really cute with him.

The only thing I want for Aang partner is that the girl doesn't get reduced to a broodmare.

So the airbenders have always to come back/stop from hiding.

IT'S NOT THE COMPLICATED!

BUT WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!

WE LIVE IN THE DARK TIMELINE!

AVATAR COULD HAVE BEEN THE MOST REVOLUTIONARY CARTOON EVER, BUT NOOOOOO TWO MEN HAD TO MAKE THEIR WEIRD FANTASY REALITY AND DIDN'T LISTEN TO THEIR TEAM OF WRITER WHO WERE LIKE, FAM THAT'S NARRAVTIVLY SPEACKING HUGE STEPS BACKWARDS!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

Yeah, I think you all guessed how much I hate Bryke.

Fricking pricks!

Also, people who make fun of their own fans because they ship a pairing themselves not like are the worst!

That shows have much respect they have for their fans.

Zero.

They just wanted to live out their fantasy and be done.

Again, fricking pricks!

So for now, that's from me, I needed to get it out of my chest.

Till next time my loves!

#avatar the last airbender #anti kataang #anti bryke #katara deserved better #aang deserved better #zuko deserved better #the whole gaang deserved better #bryke critical #avatar the last airbender season 3 was a trainwreck #zutara