#OC: Hanee

[blvckentropy]

Thiccc Daddies Thursday <podcast came up with this topic>

[thefigureresource]

HaneAme Dog Pet Girlfriend [cosplayer HaneAme illustrated by LoveCacao] 1/6 scale from Good Smile Company coming December 2023.

♡ Preorder Here ♡

[yhane]

Execution

Lyla is a witch born in fire

(Repost since some parts are modified)

[bandtrees]

a lot's been making me sappy about drrps lately - my hyperfixation on them and my ocs is back, i've been having fun appwriting and planning with my friends again, and today a group that's been with me for a Very Long Time died (peacefully), so have a commemorative little doodle of some ollie guys over the years :]]

i love this hobby and i love writing and characterbuilding and i love my friends and the people iv met and experiences iv had. here is to many more years of this nonsense that i would not trade for the world!

[overstims-dark-fictiom]

"He's dying to meet you both again"

Text: "He's dying to meet you both again"

(no warnings this time, just a little babble for Jax and Fox inspired by Darx's recent mini comic. Sorry if Rire is ooc, it's been a few years since I've written him. Warned this is mostly my oc, Jax)

Jax woke up in the cold gray of the basement, the dark surrounding him. He knew this. He just needed to stay quiet. Strade or Ren would be down soon and he'd be tortured again. So he waited... and waited. It felt far too long, longer than any before. Maybe he needed to initiate? "Ren? Strade?" He called out. No answer. "Guys! I... I'm sorry! Please just come down!" His voice echoed into the inky abyss. "Fox?Anyone?" He was starting to panic, squirming. He didn't know what to do. Ren was always home. Fox wouldn't leave him this long. What was going on?

Suddenly, the binds came loose, falling off his wrists. Maybe he needed to go up?Jax's nails clicked against the concrete floor, feeling for the wall. Once his hands finally made contact with the cold solid wall, he felt for the stairs. It felt like it went on forever. "Ah, look Strade. There's the pet's pet." A smooth deep voice emerged from the darkness. That wasn't Strade, far too calm and speaking to him. Too low to be Ren or Fox.

"Hello?" Jax called into the darkness, tail shifting to curl around his waste. His hair stood up on end. Something felt deeply, *deeply wrong*. Like something horrible just happened but he couldn't remember. He finally pinpointed something, a faint floral scent.

The was a snap of fingers, and suddenly a light flicked on overhead. Then others, spreading out. The wall was suddenly gone, and Jax fell onto the floor. Jax yelped in surprise.

"Well well, finally we meet. I've heard so much about you." The voice again, far closer now. It was a few feet away. Jax scrambled up, looking upon the dark figure on a cursed throne of concrete, the demon he knew all too well towering behind him. He always suspected, but it was finally confirmed. It was him. Oh god, it was him. This had to be hell.

"Ah, how history repeats. Soul after soul... it's quite amusing, honestly. What twists and turns." The figure tapped his foot for emphasis, sipping his tea.

"I... this is a dream. This isn't hell it's a dream! It's just another dream. I'm alive!"

The man smiled. "Hardly. What? You think you just walked out of those woods a couple pounds lighter? Lost an arm, got a couple scars? No, no little fox. You lived because *I* commanded it. You owe me your life," He sipped his tea. "And the cycle continues. You will barely remember this when you wake up, but I have a message for your master. Tell him an old friend, no, a *buddy*, sent you. And he's *dying* to meet you both again."

With a snap of the fingers, the room was plunged into darkness again. The floor gave way to the ceaseless void.

And he woke up with a cry, clinging his bear with a desperate grip. Fox was standing over him, hands on his shoulders. Jax went to bite him, but the muzzle stopped him. "Another nightmare, darling?"

Jax shook his head, beginning to sob. His face buried into his bear. "Yes? N-no. I- R- Fox. I-It." Jax couldhardly get anything out, breath quick. His entire body began to buzz from hyperventilating.

"Hey, Hey, whatever it was you're here now. You're awake dear, I'm here. I have you." Fox hugged him close. "You don't have to explain. Just breathe."

Jax didn't calm down, crying out again. "He's back! He's coming back! Fox!" He let go of his bear, clinging to Fox desperately.

Fox held him close. "It's okay... nobody is here but us, okay? You're okay, I won't let anyone else hurt you."

"Hey, Hey, whatever it was you're here now. You're awake dear, I'm here. I have you." Fox hugged him close. "You don't have to explain. Just breathe."

Jax didn't calm down, crying out again. "He's back! He's coming back! Fox!" He let go of his bear, clinging to Fox desperately.

Fox held him close. "It's okay... nobody is here but us, okay? You're okay, I won't let anyone else hurt you."

(this was so annoying to post but! there it is!)

[an-oc-machine]

MERRY CHRIS-MAS!!!

Yes, from now on. I will be calling your birthday Chris-mas.

Anyways, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I hope you have an amazing year!

@thatonegaybastard

[dna-d2]

ART DUMP TIME

I'M A WOMAN OF MY WORD, HAVE SOME MISCELLANEOUS ART FROM RECENTLY AND ALSO THE LAST COUPLE YEARS, SOME FINISHED, MOST NOT. THEY'RE PRETTY MUCH ALL OCs, BY THE WAY BECAUSE THAT'S KINDA ALL I REALLY DRAW

First, some people from my first story

And some miscellaneous ones from a few different other stories

Then my characters from some DND campaigns I've been playing lately (They're both from Pokemon-based campaigns, one in which I play a ninja that can fly, and the other being from a Pokemon/One Piece campaign in which I play a shiny Carvanha fishman who really likes fireworks and explosions in general)

And then lastly, from one of the stories I like drawing the MOST in case you can't tell (Or one character in particular lol. Lotus is a menace on my psyche)

And a fun comparison of how much better I actually got at drawing this bastard lol

A lot of them are from me trying to figure out new techniques, or from tweaking their designs, hence why a couple of them probably look awkward

And like I said, some of them are older. I actually didn't realize how old some of them were lmao

I couldn't believe I was drawing Lotus that janky in the beginning it's hilarious, but I also thought that last one was way more recent. I wonder how it'd look it I redrew that again

[snep-arts]

i have no idea where im going with either of these so. into the void with ye

[theauburndoofus]

I have obtained CHAOS

Both boys are mutated humans with abnormal powers.

The one on the left is Xen Ryker, he's loud bold and will tell someone to fuck off. (His gasmask says Fuck off as well-)

The one on the right is Nicolai Hanes. He's more reserved and keeps to himself but if you hurt his little brother Xen you will get your ass kicked-

[i-am-vita]

Fic Teaser: A Diversion Fight

So, Stupid Brain made me go into full new Ghost Rose and Phantom Pirates Lore just for writing some unconnected scenes. I promise I'm working on them but meanwhile suffer with me enjoy a little advance of next chapter:

If you haven't read Part 1 go before keep reading.

👉 My Masterlist & Oc Ghost Rose Masterlist.

.

Warnings: SFW but sexy, fighting with knives, smooching against a tree.

(...)

Upon seeing his arm rise towards Yoru's handle, you reacted immediately by throwing your knife towards him to halt his movement. You knew the moment he unsheathed his sword you'd be doomed.

With a swift movement, Mihawk detained the blade with two fingers. His eyes roamed the stylized form and elegant carvings in recognition.

"Bara no Toge... The Rose's Thorns..." He murmured, a hint of admiration in his voice. "It is said a swordmaster melt the O Wazamono twin swords Bara and Toge into a set of knives as a gift for his beloved, the ancient Queen of Daggers of the Shikkearu Kingdom." He toyed with the blade within his fingers, testing its perfect balance. "They disappeared from her tomb years ago." His sharp gaze focused back onto you. "This doesn't belong to you, little rose."

"Neither did to Do Flamingo, but they like me enough."

A sense of pride permeated your voice while the iron ring on your finger glowed and, with a flourish of your hand, the blade escaped Mihawk's fingers back to yours, the black metal pulsating in harmony with your Haki.

It had been one of your firsts and only infiltration to Dressrosa. The Phantom Captain was set to recover a treasure of his after "That Fucking Flamingo Bastard" stole one of his ships.

You have found the chest by mere chance, thrown away in Dressrosa's treasury like some minor antique instead of the lofty weapon from a queen that it was. They've been yours since then, honing your abilities and Hakis until mastering the knives to obey your will.

"You retrieved a Kuraigana treasure right under the nose of the King of Dressrosa and submitted them to you."

Mihawk stoic countenance softened with a flicker of surprise, eyes slightly widened and a knowing smile hinting in his lips.

(...)

His right hand pinned your left against the tree bark but your right managed to escape his hold, aiming your knife against him. His free hand halted your arm, stalling the sharp edge before it pierced the skin of his throat.

"A fitting master for a queen's weapon." He sighs appreciatively in your ear, his lips grazing your skin deliciously. "Although, the Queen of Daggers wore her rings on another finger." More nimbly than you could react, his fingers removed the ring from your middle and slipped it on your third finger. "My lady..."

Something in Mihawk's teasing tone nagged at your mind but his lips started wandering to your neck like before, when you dared to steal a kiss from him.

The blade on your right hand slipped away from your idle fingers and tangled in his dark locks to bring his lips towards yours once more.

.

.

.

To be continued...

Yes, that's my writing process. Throw around some scenes and find the way to make them coherent together. Sorry, not sorry 🤭

Originally, Mihawk was NOT suppose to catch Ghost Rose after the fight but, as we know, he does as he wants 😂

Yes, The Phantom Pirates have messed with Doflamingo (and viceversa) and came out whole and without witnesses. Doffy was not pleased but would die before acknowledge he was rob.

Tags I remember: @white0x0rabbit, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @gingernut1314, @cinnbar-bun, @jintaka-hane, @fanaticsnail, @writingmysanity

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 4

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, angst, alcohol, sensual scenarios, Bradley salsa dancing lol

WC: 2.8K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here; next chapter here

The first time it happened, Bob thought he was dreaming. 

The two of you had grown surprisingly close during the first semester of sophomore year once he agreed to help tutor you in psychology. Bob had never had a friend like you before. You were sparkling. You quickly inserted yourself into his life in a way that nobody had before. Bob wasn’t used to someone showing up at his dorm room at eight o’clock on a Friday with a bottle of wine, dragging him to a party where he knew no one and you knew everyone. He wasn’t used to getting random calls from someone like you on a Monday morning asking to skip class and go for a drive down the coast.

Bob was mesmerized by you from the first moment you walked into his life. 

It was nearing the end of the semester, that small gap of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. You had begged Bob to go out to a party in the woods right off campus but for once he said no. He was drowning in work for his physics lab, and needed all the time he could spare to work on his final project. 

So when the door to his room edged open in the middle of the night, harsh yellow light from the hallway spilling in, Bob sat up in a blind panic. His hair was mussed, and he was wearing a loose white Hanes t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Quickly, he grabbed for his wire glasses on the nightstand, settling them onto his nose as you came into focus in the doorway, shutting the door noisily. Thankfully he had a single dorm room. 

“Reid?” 

“Shhh,” you muttered, stepping inside and kicking off your heeled boots. 

“Reid, what’s wrong?” Bob asked, swinging his legs out of the bed, sitting on the edge. He looked at you with concern creasing his soft, handsome face. “Did something happen?” 

You shrugged off your jacket onto the ground, revealing a pair of jeans and a tight sweater. “I’m drunk,” you whispered. 

“I can see that.” 

Your fingers went to the button fly of your jeans and Bob stood up, running his hands through his hair.

“What are you doing?” 

“Can I stay?” you begged, already sliding your pants down over your hips, revealing a bright pink thong. 

“Umm.” 

“Please, Bobby?” you murmured, yanking off your sweater to reveal a thin bralette. You walked over to where he was standing near the bed and put one hand on his cheek. “I’m so tired.” 

“OK, alright,” Bob whispered. He reached down and pulled back the covers. “Come on, get in the bed.” 

You smiled at him in your drunken stupor, crawling onto the far side of the twin bed, and looking up at him expectantly. 

“I’ll see if I can crash in John’s room,” Bob said, looking around for his phone. “He has a futon.” 

“Bobby.” 

He turned. 

“Stay. Please?” you pleaded. The way you were looking at him, he couldn’t say no to you, or to the way you held out your arms, just waiting for his embrace. 

Bob put his phone down, timidly sliding into the bed, staying on the edge. He was acutely aware of the fact that you were only wearing underwear. But he didn’t have time to chicken out or overthink, because you simply slung an arm over him, cozying into his side, your face resting on his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered against his shirt. 

“It’s OK,” Bob replied softly as your breathing started to even out. 

Your fingers tightened on his abdomen. “You’re my best friend, Bobby.” 

Softly, carefully, Bob let his hand stroke your shoulders where your blonde hair was tangling behind you. You sighed contentedly against him. “You’re my best friend, too, Reid.” 

You fell into a deep, drunken sleep in minutes. And for the first time, Bob knew what it was like to hold you in his arms. 

After that night, he made a promise to himself. He would never let you go.  

***

It was easier than you expected avoiding Bob after the fight. You spent the night in your room and when you ventured out into the kitchen in the morning, hesitantly, it was empty. 

There was a post-it note on the fridge. 

I’m sorry

-B

You took the note off of the stainless steel fridge and crumpled it up, tossing it in the trash. 

***

“Floyd, you good man?” 

Fanboy looked at Bob as they crawled out of the jets. Bob yanked off his helmet, running a hand over his hair. “I’m fine.” 

“Didn’t seem fine five minutes ago,” Fanboy added. 

“I said I’m fine,” Bob snapped, jumping off the ladder and heading toward the locker room. 

Fanboy turned to Phoenix. “You gotta talk to him. He’s going to get us all killed up there.” 

Natasha sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the cockpit, climbing out gracefully and tipping her head up toward where Fanboy sat in his jet. “It’s Reid.” 

“Whatever it is, they have to figure it out because we can’t take this with us on the mission. It’s fucking dangerous.” 

Natasha nodded, following on Bob’s heels toward the locker room. She slapped the door open, stepping inside, calling out, “Floyd!” 

Bob looked up, startled, from where he stood next to his locker, flight suit already unzipped down to his waist, revealing his black undershirt. “Shit, Phoenix, this is the men’s locker room.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Hangman emerged from the shower, towel tied low on his hips. “Looking for me, sweetheart?” 

Natasha rolled her eyes. “In your dreams Bagman. Now can you get the fuck out and let me talk to Bob.” 

“Honey, this is the men’s room,” Jake whispered as he grazed past her shoulder toward his locker. “At least let me cover up the little general.” 

She looked away as he dropped the towel, pulling on a pair of tight black boxers. 

“You can sneak a peek, I won’t hold it against you, Phoenix.” 

“Leave her alone, Seresin,” Bob said. 

Jake yanked on his shirt and tossed his hands in the air. “Alright, I know when I’m not wanted.” He grabbed his gym bag, sliding past Phoenix. “See you later, Nat.” 

“Seresin,” she replied, eyes trained hard on Bob who was now sitting on a wooden bench facing the lockers. The two of them waited in silence for the sound of the locker room door to close. Then, “Talk to me, Bob.” 

“About what?” 

“You know what.” 

Bob sighed. “Natasha. Can we just not do this today?” 

She squatted down in front of where he sat on the wooden bench, looking up with warm brown eyes. “You gotta talk to me, Bob. We’re not a team unless I know what you’re thinking. I can’t go into the mission next month without being able to predict what my backseater is gonna do.” 

He lifted off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I fucked up last night. Said some shit that I shouldn’t have. And now she’s not talking to me.” 

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” 

Bob shook his head. “I essentially called her a selfish whore.” 

“Oh fuck.” Phoenix sat down on the bench next to him. “You’re more of a dumbass than I thought.” 

“I tried to apologize but she wouldn’t let me.” 

“Do you blame her?” 

“No,” he said, dejected. “But fuck, I wanted to take it back the second the words left my mouth. The last thing I ever want to do in this world is hurt her.” 

“Why’d you say it?” she asked. 

Bob paused. “I don’t think she realizes how her actions impact others sometimes. She’s always been beautiful. People like her. That means she gets away with things that other people might not. She can be careless, sometimes. It’s easy to overlook, because she’s Sunny. She shines bright enough to overcome anything. But this time she can’t just run away if she makes a mess. This time, she’s here to stay.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

Bob turned to Phoenix. “No, actually, I’m not sure.” 

***

The doorbell rang at exactly seven thirty. You opened the door from your room into the hallway, looking both ways. Bob was still nowhere to be seen. 

You pulled open the front door to reveal Bradley wearing a tight polo shirt and a pair of khakis. He grinned, sliding his aviator sunglasses to the top of his head, letting his gaze roam over your figure, taking in your tight dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. 

“Wow,” he murmured, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You look beautiful.” 

You smiled, stepping out onto the front step, closing the door behind you. “Thanks. Looking pretty good yourself, Chicken Man.” 

Bradley laughed, sliding one large hand to your low back, guiding you over to his blue Bronco. 

“So where to?” you asked as Bradley pulled the truck out of the driveway. 

He glanced over at you. “How do you feel about Lebanese?”

“I love Lebanese food.” Bradley smiled. 

It was easy with Bradley. He was smooth and charming and had an infectious laugh and energy about him. It also helped that you felt like you had known him for longer. Bob had talked so much about the dagger squad that you felt like you knew each of them individually. 

For the first time since Denver and Lemoore, Bob had found people he truly loved. People he cared about. People who cared about him. 

You didn’t want to fuck that up for him. 

“What is your favorite place you’ve lived?” Bradley asked, dipping a piece of pita bread into a pile of hummus. 

“That’s hard,” you replied, taking a sip of wine, relishing the dark, borderline sweet notes of the wine. You had to hand it to Bradley. He let you take the lead on the wine, a vintage Chateau Musar, and he never once stopped to question the price tag. “I love Tokyo, for the food and the culture is so different. It’s unlike any other big city I’ve ever lived in. Clean as hell, but lonely in a way.” 

Bradley nodded thoughtfully. 

“As far as places in the US, I think I loved New Orleans the most. The vibe. The people. Oh God, the food. It was just a constant party, twenty-four seven. The rest of the country needs to adopt drive-through daiquiris. But fuck was it hot. You don’t know sweaty until you've done a summer in Louisiana.”  

Bradley laughed. “And I thought San Diego was bad.” 

“This has nothing on the swampy south,” you replied. “I did San Francisco for a while, but it was after the peak years I think. It was already getting crowded and annoying by the time I was there.” 

“No wonder Bob is as obsessed with you as he is,” Bradley said, swirling the wine in his glass by holding onto the fragile stem and shaking it. “You’re way too cool for any of us.” 

“Oh don’t even,” you replied, draining the last of your wine glass. You reached over and put a hand on his knee where the two of you sat in the corner booth. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too, you know, from Bobby. He admires you so much.” 

Bradley blushed. You didn’t think you would be able to make the handsome aviator blush like a schoolgirl. He leaned in toward you. “What do you say we get out of here?” he whispered. 

“Where to?” 

He smiled. “Do you like to dance?” 

Bradley was a goofy dancer. You should have predicted that. He took you to a salsa nightclub, but his idea of salsa was about as spicy as the Pace Picante your grandfather ate with his scrambled eggs. 

You swiveled your hips, Bradley’s hands heavy on your hips as you pressed back against him, the dark, damp heat of the room overpowering your senses. 

The club was packed. Dark walls, a band against one wall with a red stage, the music so loud you could feel it in your chest, like a second heartbeat. 

You turned around, tangling your fingers in Bradley’s, pulling him back with a box step. He fumbled and you tipped your head back in a laugh. When your eyes found his, they were bright and warm. You knew it the moment you saw it. He was falling for you. 

“You’re a terrible dancer,” you shouted into his ear, pressing your bodies close together, Bradley’s hand snaking around your waist to your back, large fingers pressed flat against the small of your back. 

He grinned. “I know. I just wanted to see you dance.” 

“Oh you’re evil,” you said and he laughed, grabbing your hand, spinning you out before pulling you back in tightly until you were pressed against his chest once again. 

Bradley’s hands floated to your waist and the two of you stood there in the middle of the dance floor, locked in a heated gaze for a moment, before you looked away. 

“I need some air!” you shouted, fanning at your neck for emphasis. Bradley nodded, weaving through the crowd, creating space for you to follow him out the side door of the club. 

The two of you burst out into the California night and you sucked in a deep breath, lifting your hair off of your neck, letting the breeze cool you. 

“Shit,” you whispered. “Didn’t realize how sweaty it was in there.” 

Bradley leaned against the brick wall. “It’s pretty late. Let me drive you home, we can keep the windows down, keep the breeze going?” 

You nodded, easily slotting your hand into his, letting him lead you back to the truck. 

The two of you chatted easily on the ride home. You asked him about growing up in California. He asked you how you and Bob met. You asked him to tell you more about the team. He warned you to stay away from Hangman like your life depended on it. 

Finally, Bradley pulled the truck into the driveway. Bob’s truck was parked on the left and you sucked in a breath, knowing that you’d have to face him the moment you walked through the door. 

You turned to Bradley. He had his hands on his thick, muscular thighs. 

“I had a really great time tonight,” you said. 

He smiled. “So did I.”

Bob’s voice clung to every crevice of your brain. Begging you not to fuck up the life that he had created. Begging you not to get mixed up with his friends, the family he had found out here. 

Begging you not to fuck Bradley, in not so many words. 

Against your better judgment, you leaned across the console and pressed one hand to Bradley’s thigh, brushing your face closer to his until your lips landed on his, one of his strong hands immediately coming out to grab your head, holding you close. His mustache tickled against your delicate skin, but he tasted like wine and his tongue slid expertly between your lips, padding yours softly, gently. You found yourself moaning into his mouth, fingers tightening on his leg, as Bradley shifted in his seat, free hand coming out to brush across your side, close to your breast and you pulled back after a moment with a grin. 

“Fuck,” Bradley whispered hoarsely and you smiled, leaning back and opening the door, jumping out. He slid out of the driver’s side as you rounded the front of the truck. “Reid,” he said. “Can I see you again?” 

You started walking up the drive, toward the door. Bradley followed you as you stood at the door, fidgeting with your keys, your back to the white brick siding. 

“Reid?” he asked. 

You looked up. Bradley stepped closer, one hand on the wall above your head, his face looming only inches from yours. “Yeah?” 

“I want to see you again,” he repeated. “If you want to see me again.” 

You reached out, tugging at the collar of his shirt, bringing his lips back onto yours as Bradley hitched forward, the hand on the wall migrating until it was behind your head, cushioning you from the brick. You sighed into his mouth as he groaned, free hand on your hip holding you tight against him. 

Bradley pulled away with a grin. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You gave him a shy smile, turning the key in the lock and grabbing the door handle, cranking it to the right. “Goodnight, Chicken Man.” 

The door swung open. Bob stood in the entryway, still wearing his khaki uniform. He looked at you and then at Bradley in silence. You looked back at Bradley, who had a shocked and tense look on his face. 

And then you faced forward again, sidestepping Bob, heading down the hallway in silence, leaving the two of them to stare at each other in your wake. 

Tag list: (or turn on notifications for my library @ereardonlibrary)

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite

@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @teacupsandtopgun @bobfloydsbabe @xoxabs88xox

@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16

@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation

@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @emorychase @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @evans-dejong @clancycucumber230

@storysimp

[yhane]

Monster

[hey-hamlet]

I am so incredibly in love with your let's kill sensei au, assasination classroom was one of my first animes I watched bootlegged on youtube and it will always have a special place in my heart. Since you wittled down the class size, do you have any plans for the rest of the gen ed kids? Making them other ua kids, oc's or maybe snatching some from the original assclass show?

Ah thank you!! I watched it when I was like 14-16 and remembered loving it - I've just finished season 1 and its so much stranger than I remember,,, still very funny though!

I tragically have an internal rule that yells at me to keep my AUs AUs and crossovers crossovers, so no assassination classroom students. I'm throwing in the only 2 other canon first year gen ed students, some other UA students and some OCs to fill out the roster so we have:

Midoriya Izuku

Uraraka Ochako

Shinsou Hitoshi

Kuroiro Shihai (the 1B student - he failed the entrance exam in this AU)

Togeike Chikuchi (canon gen ed student - girl - no official quirk - quirk: paper manipulation)

Agoyamato Tsutsutaka (canon gen ed student - boy - no official quirk - quirk: drill hair)

Furasu Maina (canon 1H support student - she tried for heroics in this AU - no canon quirk - quirk: polarity)

Ito Hikari (canon student 1C - girl - no official name/quirk - quirk: optic fibre hair!)

Hai Kaze (canon 1C student - boy - no official name/quirk - quirk: big lungs

Kuzu Ono (oc - boy - quirk: plant body)

Kesshou Beni (oc - nb - quirk: crystalline)

Hane Tsuki (oc - girl - quirk: moth wing)

Yoku Kiteku (oc (appears briefly - unnamed- in an old fic of mine) - girl - quirk: gossip)

I love everyone on this list - even the silly BG characters that have no lines.

[raiden-makoto]

(18) Does your OC have a “type”?

(20) How does your OC feel about public displays of affection?

(12) What do you love most about your OC?

For any characters you want :)

Hi!!! Tanks for ur questions!

So I’ll choose both of my Mc cause I didn’t introduce the others yet.

(18) Does your OC have a "type"?

Hane: He doesn’t care about physics but personality is very important to him. He prefer kind, romantic and strong people who are not afraid to say or do what they want.

Noi: He likes people like they are, he doesn’t have a type (surely because he liked the same person for 9years, he was too shy and y’a know war is there too)

(20) How does your OC feel about public displays of affection?

Hane: He don’t really care about what others will think so it doesn’t bother him to show affection (in words and physical touch).

Noi: same but He loves to show everyone who he likes so he will always compliment his lover or hug/kiss them.

(12) What do you love most about your OC?

I didn’t finish to develop my characters yet so for now,

Hane: I really like his tee-shirt in the Elf outfit ( don’t ask me why ok?) and the fact that he is a rebel ( lol).

Noi:I love how he takes care of everything and believe there is good in everyone.

Tanks again for the questions <3

Tags: @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling

[an-oc-machine]

ROLE SWAP AU!!!!

Part 1: Takagi + Ritsu

All this AU is essentially just the same characters but if they swapped roles story-wise

Ritsu

Absolutely bonkers

His hair is extra shaggy + he has a teeny tiny ponytail

97 mental illnesses and is banned in most public spaces

Kills people for blood

Backstory:

Kinda the same as Takagi’s in the original. Except the roles were reversed. Takagi ran away and with no one to comfort him, Ritsu went insane and lost all sense of humanity.

Takagi

A (somewhat) normal person!!

Still has her fear of abandonment, like in the original, but it’s not as extreme

Also has blood cravings, since she’s still a vampire, but she controls them

She’s kinda wack but has good intentions

Backstory

She was nearly staked as a kid, so she ran away. She met Niko while at school and became best friends with her.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it. || myg

no. 2: breaking a sweat about it

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: kanako is an established idol with a growing career and a secret relationship with a producer from her label, haneul. when she’s asked to work with yoongi and rm to create a track for her, she gains unexpected feelings for a certain upcoming rapper. with her increasing fame, her controlling boyfriend, a set of six boys who seem to have grown an attachment to her, and a new boy who’d give her the world, how will she figure out a way to balance it all?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 2.5k

genre: ANGST, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn,

chapter warnings: toxic relationship (not w/myg), mentions of alcohol, small mention of oc getting groped

inspo song: night shift by lucy dacus.

FEBRUARY 16TH, 2012, 3:00PM

I plop on the floor and pick up my water bottle, taking a rather large swig before wiping my mouth and laying my head back. My chest moves fast as I try to collect myself. The rehearsal room is quieter than I thought, the only sound being my quick breaths and muffled music that’s still going. It’s a week before my new album launches and I get back to performing, interviewing, and switching to my other persona. The one that isn’t anything other than happy, the one that’s so glad to be here. 

I bend my knee to rest my head on it, closing my eyes for a fast minute. Just to rest. To clear my head and feel like a normal person. Like I’m back home. 

The door swings open and I’m met with a group of boys, all ready with water bottles and workout clothes. I shoot my head up and gain my composure, trying to act like I wasn’t moping. It takes them a second to notice I’m here, but almost like instinct, my eyes find Yoongi. He doesn’t have much of an expression if any at all. Not like he saw me over a month ago being absolutely devoured by Hanuel. He immediately goes to talk to another member like everything’s normal. 

I stand up quickly and grab my things, “S-Sorry.” I mutter and bow, rushing out the door before they get the chance to whisper a hello. I take one more glimpse at Yoongi before I’m out the door, and he catches my eye too. 

The moment is quick but it gives a sort of reassurance, an odd one. The simple acknowledgement has me spiraling as I walk back to my dorm.

Would it be better to know that he knows and he cares, or would it be better to know that he knows but he doesn’t care? I want him to care, for some reason. Like he could talk to me about it, like he could tell me everything I needed to hear. 

What am I even saying? 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2012, 9:34PM

It’s the day before my album launches but Haneul insisted we grab dinner. At 6pm. He also insisted he invite some of his own friends, whom I had never met. The friends don’t arrive until later, but when we started, it was actually fun. He smiled and shared words of encouragement and urged me to order whatever I wanted. Mid-way through he brought out a gift from his pocket, a small box that contained diamond earrings. 

I had never expressed I wanted earrings, nonetheless diamond earrings. I was grateful for the gift. Eternally grateful. But I couldn’t help that all it was...was flashy nonsense. Did he actually ever listen to me and my desires? I shook away those thoughts, afraid they would spoil my meal. But it’s those exact thoughts that keep me awake at night, that linger in my brain like an undiagnosed disease. I put them off and we continue dinner like normal, smiles and laughter exchanged like a normal couple. Because that’s what we are, right?

A few moments and courses pass until he gets a text. He smiles, “My friends are here.” he says. He gives me a pat on the back, leaving me with a weirded expression. He stands and waves his arm to a group of men and women, all much older than me. I get a feeling in my stomach, the first impressions one. Especially because I don’t know who these people are and they could very well spill to the tabloids about me and Haneul.

But again, he seems to mind much less than I do. 

“Oh Kanako, hello! I love your music!” One of the women says and I hear a chuckle from a man behind her, “It’s hardly music, no offense Kanako. You know how it is.” He holds a hand out as if trying to console me. The table erupts in laughter, including Haneul, who I give a slight look to. He looks down at me then back up to the table, passively. He moves his hand from mine and takes a sip from his glass. I wait as if we’ll interlock once again but he doesn’t. I wait, wait, and wait. But he never does. If anything, he brushes me off whenever I try to touch him. Like he’s embarrassed. I feel a dark flush in my cheeks, suddenly the walls caving in on me. It’s like I don’t know anyone here, not even Haneul. 

“Oi, isn’t your little girlfriend not even old enough to drink?” Another man says, causing a domino effect of howling amongst the group of people. “Hey, hey…she’s old enough for something else. That’s all that matters, right? ” Haneul says, making me back away from him in disgust. 

“I don’t think she liked that one, bro.” The same man says, covering his mouth to contain his laughter. I look at the different people sitting before me, as if trying to connect to any one of them. As if trying to say help me. But they all think it’s funny. They think I’m some source for their jokes. My breath decreases and I feel much smaller than I usually do. They talk amongst themselves and I look down to my hands, trying to escape the situation by simply daydreaming. 

Thinking of home, my mother, my bed. Sleeping and being unconscious, if I’m being frank. I try to drift off. But a hand…a hand is on my thigh. I turned my head slowly, wishing that somehow Haneul was the one on that side. That it wasn’t a complete stranger. But to my luck it’s a stranger, another one of his friends. The man looks at me with a sinful grin, “So Kanako,” He begins, but I shake my head and get up aggressively. The table shakes from my sudden movement and one or two glasses tip over. 

“What the fuck, Kanako?” Haneul yells. I grab my purse and my coat, sneaking past everyone to leave. He grabs my wrist, making me think of that night. My birthday dinner. His soju breath and sweaty palms. Him yelling at me, cursing at me. Making me feel bad at something he did. 

“You’re never going to change, are you?” I whisper, a slight crack in my voice from attempting to hold back my tears. His eyes dart around the table, as if his facade is cracking, his perfect mask, ripping at the seams. 

“Baby..come on..” He trails off, but I dash out of the restaurant. 

Everything about this night is too familiar, the biting air, the cars, the glowing buildings. I hold myself in an attempt to self-soothe, my breath hitching up to my throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. But all I can think of all those other times he’s mistreated me, each memory burning into different parts of me. Will these wounds ever heal? How long is it going to take for him to stop treating me like this? Is this really what I deserve? 

I’ve wasted so much of my time thinking of how I can better myself for someone who doesn’t even care about me. And then an awful thought creeps in my mind, like a monster behind a closet door. 

He’s the only one who can love the real you, the fucked up you. Isn’t that right?

I sit on a bus bench, shutting my eyes closed. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I purse my lips tightly, wishing I could call my mother to protect me from monsters again. I wish I could walk to her house, only to sneak inside her comforters while she holds me. To have her check under my bed and kiss me goodnight. 

Goodnight? I check my phone, 10:52pm. Shit, I have to be up by 8am. 

“Kanako!” A familiar voice calls out. I turn my head and see Haneul, his button up loose and untucked, his hair ruffled and his cheeks red from the cold. 

I stand up and hold my hand out, “I cannot deal with you right now. I need to get home.” I say. 

He walks closer to me, taking my hand and interlacing it with his. I look down at our fingers, remembering just a second ago he was refusing my touch at dinner. I let go, gently this time. 

“Baby let me fix this. I’m sorry my friends were acting like dicks. They just didn’t know what to say or how to talk to you because you’re so-”

“Young? I know, Haneul. And you do too. You know what you are?” I spit out.

He chuckles and throws his head back in amusement, “What, Kanako?”

I clench my fists together, “You’re a fucking vampire. You’ve sucked the life out of me, you know that? I’m NOTHING now! I’m…I’m…” I pause. Holding my hand on my belly as my breath quickens. He fills the space between us again, his hand trailing to my face. 

“But you love me.” He whispers. My eyes follow his and I part my lips. 

“It’s killing me, Haneul. I can’t. Just…” I stop and turn away from him, stuffing my phone in my pocket and walking away from him. 

He calls out to me multiple times, but never follows me. Never stops me. I wipe my tears away and continue my path, wanting to leave him far away from me for as long as I can. The love I have for him is breaking down, the only thing bringing me back to him is the feeling I get when apologizes to me. We get tangled up in this mess over and over again and I convince myself I’ve learned something every time I leave. But our mess is so magnetic, I feel like I can’t feel the ground when he loves me properly. When he swears up and down that says those words just because he loves me, when at night he worships me like a god. When the curtains are closed and he cries in my arms because he knows I deserve better. 

When he’s asleep in my embrace and I can’t stop looking into his face, wondering if this is what his mother thought when he grew up to be a fucking monster. Devastated, heartbroken. But he was just a boy once, one who needed and seeked for love. But that’s not my job. To fix him, I mean. 

It never was. 

And how did he end up being the one who needed healing? Apologies? How was it that at night, I was the one that held him? I’ve kissed his forehead so many times and have consoled his cold, beating heart. I’ve ran my fingers through his hair and wiped the hot tears from his face.

I remember when he let me drive his new car even though I had just gotten the hang of driving just weeks before. He tossed me the keys so confidently and beamed at me like I was the love of his life. Wasn’t I? I felt so special when I placed my hands on the sleek, black wheel. He placed his hand on my thigh and gave it a loving squeeze as he watched me drive through the barren road. It was just us. 

He used to give me so much, but now all he does is take. He takes, takes and takes. I gave up all my blood for him and now I’ve been hung up to dry. How could he possibly want more? I wrap my arms around myself, tightening the grip. Wanting some sort of comfort. My eyes look to the cars and pedestrians still out. I wonder what it’s like to not deal with something like this, to be a normal person walking down the street after a night of clubbing and fun. But I remind myself to keep my head down, just so no one recognizes me. It’s one thing to be recognized by fans, but another to be caught by them with mascara down your face. 

I attempt to walk faster, time fleeting and the night growing darker. I need to get home or else I know I'll sleep in tomorrow, and I cannot, under any circumstances, be late to performing my first show of the year. As I walk, I accidentally manage to shoulder-check someone. 

My body jolts back from the force and I look up, afraid of who I’d see. I don't know what’s scarier, someone I know or a complete stranger. I rub my shoulder and meet eyes with-

“Yoongi?” I say, not realizing I said his actual name which he’s never told me. Hopefully he doesn’t remember. There’s someone else next to him, someone I saw in the rehearsal room as well, earlier this week. He looks much younger than me and Yoongi, which catches me by surprise. Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly and his mouth parts, “Ah-Kanako. What’re you..” He trails off, looking me up and down. 

Usually I’d be blushing but because of my current attire and the status of my makeup, I’m more self-conscious. I maneuver my hands that settle in my pockets to move closer together, attempting to cover myself up. Although I’m not sure why, it’s not like I'm naked. “I just got done with dinner.” I state simply. 

I’m also not sure why I’m so defensive at this moment. I look at the boy who stands next to him, “Oh, Jungkook. This is Kanako-well Kanako, this Jung- nevermind.” Yoongi fumbles, which makes me crack something of a smile. Jungkook grins, “I, um, really love your music.” He says nervously. His comment is genuine and kind, but it only takes me back to dinner. Nothing can scrub my brain of what happened tonight, unfortunately.  

“Thank you Jungkook. I appreciate that.” I express, my hand stringing from my pocket to my hair, trying to busy myself to seem less awkward. As I run my fingers through my hair I feel tiny droplets. Then medium droplets. Then, a pour. 

“Oh shit.” Yoongi mutters, looking at Jungkook. The boy throws his hands over his head as the rain doesn’t hesitate to cascade onto us. “Rain, I thought it was supposed to be snowing?” He shouts over the loud droplets. 

Yoongi looks around and sighs, “W-We have to go home, do you need a ride?” He asks, looking into me like he really doesn’t want to be asking me that.

I bite my lip and stare off for only a moment. Haneul would lose his mind if he saw me in a car with these two guys. But I'm cold, in the middle of Seoul, and I can't take any chances.

“Um, yeah. Probably.” I reply. 

JANUARY 22ND, 2012, 11:45PM

Yoongi parks his car and sighs, leaning back into his seat. He seems to sigh a lot. I grab my things and prepare to leave before hearing Jungkook, “Hyung, Kanako’s dorm is all the way around the building.” He speaks. I’m unsure of what he’s insinuating, but I stay still in my seat. 

I look over to Yoongi who is almost unwanting of eye contact with me and I suddenly realize what Jungkook means, having me and Yoongi speak at the same time. 

“It’s okay, the walk isn’t too far-”

“We can let her stay in the dorms-”

We both pause and finally look at eachother. “Well-” He says, running a hand through his hair. My lips part just slightly. Am I really going to stay with seven guys I barely know? What kind of person does this make me?

"You guys, I mean, we all can get in a lot of trouble over this." I attempt to shut down this wild notion.

“It’s alright, we just have to be quiet.” Jungkook gives a reassuring smile. 

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