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pomefioredove · 2 days

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Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???

requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...

summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe

If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.

...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.

And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.

The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.

The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.

You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.

After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.

Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.

"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."

The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...

It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.

Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.

There's just the one thing, though.

"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."

Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."

Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."

"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."

"Guys,"

"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."

A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.

"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.

"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."

You groan.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #staff parents being EMBARRASSING and CRINGE compilation #queued

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 3 days

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hellooo I want to see the character's reactions to a teen!reader that almost never cries and who feels their emotions pretty weakly, and usually resorts to humor to cope (ending up in making dark jokes about the characters' pasts, but regretting it after they make it.)

this changes when they read chapter 87/see episode 3 of season 5. suddenly the reader is crying for at least an hour about Akutagawa's death, and they realize who the reader's favourite character is from that lmao.

I'm curious about both before and after they leave their world, but you don't have to write both.

Stoic! Teen! Reader

Self-Aware! Platonic! Akutagawa Ryunosuke x GN! Teen! Reader

Description: They get used to you not being emotional. But, one day, your emotions showed.

_______

🧥 You weren't an emotional one. They can't recall many moments, of when you were crying over reading about their past. Yes, your voice would tremble, but, no tears were shed.

🧥 They won't say, that you have a dark sense of humor. It's more that you don't think your jokes through. Many jokes would end in you apologizing to them. It was... endearing in its own way. You didn't know, that they were real, yet, you always apologized, if you thought, that you cross the line.

🧥 There was one thing, they wondered about. Who were your favorite among them?

🧥It was an important question to them. Okay, they simply are curious. And they have every reason to be curious! They were planning to make your life good and happy, and knowing who you will be most comfortable talking with, is essential.

🧥 One day...

__________________

The last pages of Chapter 87 faded on the Meeting Room's "otherworldly" screen. You (and them), finished reading it.

They were quiet. Despite the fact, that ever since Karma was spared, the "cannon events" wasn't happening (Pushkin was really happy not to get punched by Fukuzawa and Mori, Kunikida was grateful, that he didn't lose his hands...), it was hard to see them being hurt. Or mortally wounded.

And then, the cry came.

Akutagawa have Higuchi a side eye, but, it wasn't her. A cry came from above.

Then Little Light plopped down on Akutagawa's head, sobbing, hugging his head.

"No. No. No. Please, no."

Despite everyone being alright, Fukuchi felt guilty over something, he didn't do.

Akutagawa tried to per Little Light, calming you down, but, as usual, his fingers passed through Little Light.

He didn't like, that you were sad.

You continue sobbing.

Gin coughed.

"Well... At least... We knew, who is Guiding Light's favorite... Ango-san, get the camera. Guiding Light are in dire need of more cards of my brother."

________________

🧥 You cried for an hour. Later, when you open BSD Mayoi app, a few dozens new Akutagawa cards waited for you. Akutagawa felt, that they made you happy. You also changed all your cards in team selection and home screen to his cards.

🧥 During the next chapters, you were quieter, than usual. When, in manga, Bram turned Akutagawa into a vampire, you let out a hopeful

"Maybe... Akutagawa will be alright..."

Akutagawa was glad, that you felt better. And Bram apologized to him. Despite not doing anything to him.

🧥 When Episode 3 of Season 5 came out, you cried again over Akutagawa's fate. Fukuchi apologized again. And was planning to apologize to you.

🧥 And then, the day of their arrival came.

__________

The day was wild.

You were doing your homework, when your phone's screen started glowing white. And then, BSD Cast appeared in your room.

You spent the next ten minutes jumping from being confused to apologizing for making dark jokes. Everyone just laughed it off. Then, Fukuchi stepped forward.

"[Y/N], I want to apologize for what happened with Akutagawa in the manga."

You stay quiet. You nodded, scanning the room with your gaze. Akutagawa was here, well and unharmed. Human.

You felt your cheeks burning up. Akutagawa must have heard you crying over Chapter 87. And then over Episode 3.

You shyly looked at your feet. You didn't know what to say next. Then you felt a warm hand on the top of your head.

Akutagawa spoke.

"Hey, [Y/N], don't be sad. I am alright. And I promise that both you and I and all of us will be alright. You believe me?"

You nodded.

For now, you didn't know, that Akutagawa mentally add 'little sibling' at the end of his little speech.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #platonic #Self-Aware Akutagawa Ryunosuke #akutagawa x you #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #akutagawa x reader #bsd akutagawa #bungo stray dogs akutagawa

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jm-2406 · 3 days

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Questions.

Summary - late night study sessions in the library prove to be quite stressful if you don't know the subject very well. But luckily someone is there to ‘help’ you with your work. Prequel to “answers” but can be read individually.

Pairing - Theodore Nott x female!reader.

Word count - 625.

Note - beware of the stupid writing, i gave it my best. This is written in third person pov and has mentions of [Y/N].

Warnings - annoying Theodore and a poorly written kiss because I never had one.

Requests -> open || find my work -> m’list.

Life in Hogwarts was better than the muggle way in more ways than one. [Y/N] knew that from her friends’ and classmates’ comments but one thing that is common in both the worlds are strict professors who give the students a month's worth of homework to be completed in just three days. That's why she found herself sitting in the library at around midnight like an owl.

“Need any help?” A voice from above her head said. Looking up [Y/N] scrunched her nose in distaste as she looked at the most annoying and arrogant boy in her opinion. Actually that is a draw between him and Draco Malfoy. “What is it, Nott? Can't you see that I'm busy?” She sneered at him.

Theodore laughed it off and took a seat in front of her, picking up one of the books scattered on the table. “As a matter of fact, yes I can see, [Y/L/N]. Thanks for your concern. I just thought I'd help.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“You don't ‘help’, Nott. That word is not in your dictionary. Everyone in Hogwarts knows that.” [Y/N] scoffed. She was already feeling very moody because of all the assignments, add to that one egoistic boy trying to fry her brains. Yep, she was knackered and in need of a break.

“True that. I do have a motive, [Y/L/N].” Theodore smirked. That pretty tilt of his lips infuriated [Y/N] to no end but that one girly side of her brain found it hot too. She chided herself for even entertaining such thoughts. “Wouldn't you like to know?” he continued. [Y/N], already fed up by his antics, huffed in response and buried her nose in the papers kept in front of her.

Suddenly that was snatched away from her and looking up, she scowled at her housemate. Theodore merely shrugged in response and continued to pester her with his antics. [Y/N] leaped up unexpectedly and took him by surprise but she miscalculated her actions and it resulted in them landing in a heap on the library floor.

While [Y/N] was distracted by her hair, Theodore was gazing at her intently. “Look up.” He whispered in a deep voice. Their eyes connected and no words were exchanged. He moved closer, almost pulling her in his lap. Moving forward, his face was just at a hair’s distance. [Y/N] found herself doing something she never thought she'd be bold enough to do, she closed the gap between the two of them. She pulled away quickly.

Theodore tried to pull her back but she had already gotten up by now. “You have a girlfriend, Nott. What are you doing?” She hissed.

“Just continuing whatever you started, [Y/L/N].” Theodore answered nonchalantly.

[Y/N] had already turned around and left, not even bothering to collect her things. Her mind was a mess. All she could think of was Theodore, his annoying antics and her own feelings for the tall, cocky and mean Slytherin. She was still confused but one thing was sure, attending the party that night was going to be a mission in itself for her.

THE END.

#writers on tumblr #harry potter #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theo nott one shot #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys #𝐣 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

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mushroomnoodles · 3 days

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I think your content is wonderful! It's so wholesome, funny and angsty all at once in the best ways possible. Just wanted to spread some nice love in my ask! ^_^

Does Morrigan talk to any of their little siblings when they're in the womb? For example telling them about some butterflies they saw or just reminding them that they have the most radical big sibs (them and Marcy) ever. I'm not sure how you interpret this, but I like to imagine Morrigan as a very loving big-brother in the universes where he has little siblings. :D

thank you nonnie <3 this is a longer post about morri being a big sibling in multiple aus.

tw/cw for sfw and non kink mpreg

morri talks a LOT to their siblings in the womb, especially golbaby morris, who remember how painfully boring it was sometimes to hear everyone talking around them and not being able to join in. (wizardbetty's morri has... no concept of normal babies not having their level of consciousness.) different morris have different flavors of big-sibling energy.

golbaby morris that get a sibling early on (wizardbetty) are initially concerned and a bit jealous, especially when simon can't carry them anymore and his belly gets in the way of them sitting on his lap. (they threw a little fit when simon first told them he couldn't carry them anymore until after the baby came) with ophelia especially (simon was always talking about how she would never stop moving) lil' morri would put their hands on his tummy and be like "not so hard, baby" because they remember simon telling them that when they would kick him. (side note, simon loves his golbspawn so much even if they bite him)

they're enamored by their tiny baby siblings, think they're stupid (wdym they don't have object permanence) and tries hard to "teach" literal 6 month olds how to read. gets cranky and wants attention when they feel their sibling is getting too much, but also gets fiercely protective of their "dummy" siblings, trying to prevent them from doing dumb things from experience "don't eat that stick, becca, it tastes like butt". as a teen they tend to be a little bit of a menace to their little siblings (who isn't?) but would still kill and die for them.

golbaby morris that get a sibling later on (plainvanilla) are absolutely STOKED to have a sibling, morrigan has always wanted one. much like early sibling morris, they make a point to talk to their unborn siblings often because of their own experience, but with a lot of added enthusiasm. entity pregnancies take longer than human ones, so they'd also be impatient ("girl, you are taking fivever. come out already") they also give me the vibe to poke their siblings back when they kick, partially to bug them but also to interact with them.

older morri's much more of a protective sibling than their younger variants, but with fellow golbspawn siblings morri at least is able to better relate to their baby sisters and brother. they are still the type to teach a 6 month old to read.

normal morris that get a sibling early on (vamparents, candyworld) are just 4 years old when they get their first sibling, and are very confused by their dad's bump (and extremely curious). these morris probably talk the least to their unborn siblings, but still do in part because of their parent's encouragement, mostly just "hi baby" or telling them about what they had for dinner. (vamp morri in particular was sooo excited to see ophelia, simon shared the enthusiasm to meet her but mostly because she was treating him like a punching bag)

(it took sour taffy five months, but they finally figured out what baby meant and where it was!)

vamp morri, when they're older, is much more laidback and totally does their siblings' homework for them, while sour taffy is more likely to just talk their ears off and braid their hair.

#a #i have a mproblem #cw mpreg #tw mpreg #mpreg #simon petrikov mpreg #golbaby #infoposting :d #wizardbetty #candyworld #vamparents

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bluwavez · 3 days

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YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO PLAY AS KIWOO !

THE DEEPDIVE EXPERIENCE is a simulation game where you will experience the members' lives up until now. Currently playing as KIWOO, the story will contain themes and situations of GRIEF, DEATH, SUICIDE, DEPRESSION, NEGLECTFUL PARENTS, and MANIPULATION. Please click off now if these themes and situations will be too much for you.

CLICK HERE TO CHOOSE WHO TO PLAY AS NEXT.

— 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝟏 ; 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃.

CURRENT INVENTORY:

Your favorite teddy bear named Lucy. A copy of "Weathered Blossom" by Park Wang-Suh. A cup of tea you'll share with your mother. A bandaid for your scraped knee. Your love for your big sister, Namjoo. Stickers you stole from Namjoo's room. Strawberries for later. Your favorite treat, gummy worms. A collection of CDS your father gave you.

The house you grew up in is dusty and small. Your parents work typical office jobs that you don't know much about. You just know they're tired and don't have much time to clean the house. You wish it was cleaner here, but that's only when you think about it for too long. You have an older sister, Namjoo, who loves to sing and dance like your father did, but only on the weekends. It's been a long time since you've seen your father smile.

You're the apple of your sister's eye. She cares for you like a mother should. She brushes your hair before school, helps you with homework, and even makes dinner for you when mom is working too late. You love your sister very much. She's your best friend. You smile every time you see her even when she makes you learn silly girl group dances.

Namjoo says, "I have dreams of being a dancer. You can be the singer. You're a good singer, you know?"

You didn't know, but now you do.

— 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝟐 ; 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒.

CURRENT INVENTORY:

A camera you bought at a thrift store. Depression and Anxiety, a blossoming friendship. An invitation to train at Angelico Entertainment. A journal your mother gave you. Your love for your big sister, Namjoo. Books, lots of books. Tea you drink by yourself.

At fourteen, you realize you're gay. It wasn't a shock to anyone else but yourself. Your mom was more understanding than you thought she would be, but deep down, you know it's because she doesn't really care about your life, just getting you out of the house. Your father didn't react, just saying, "Tell me something new." He went back to eating his dinner with nothing in his eyes. Namjoo was supportive but told you to keep it to yourself. She says, "People are mean to gay people. I don't want them being mean to you for something you can't change." So you didn't tell anyone else.

At fourteen, Namjoo drags you to an Angelico Entertainment audition. You didn't really care about K-pop or being an idol--In fact, you want to be a librarian, but Namjoo can't do anything without you, just like you can't do anything without her. You two sing "Give Love" by AKMU without missing a beat, and doing the choreography Namjoo flawlessly made you practice for weeks. You're good at dancing, even if it hurts your ankles.

The table of judges loves you two. They adore your sister, but they favor you more. You're younger and a boy, but you can hit high notes like a girl. The man who sits at the center of the table, Son Jinhwa, his nameplate says, tells you that you have the potential to be a star. You've never thought about being a star before.

You start training the next week and move out of the house at just fourteen. You think it's normal.

Training is hard—really hard. You get called ugly by the managers, a pig by the dance instructors, and useless by your vocal coach, but you pass your evaluations with flying colors every time. In fact, you're one of the top trainees in the company. Even being in the top ten trainees, you feel useless and tired. You're so tired.

When Namjoo fails her third vocal evaluation, she's cut from the trainee program. You see this as your way out, and without question, you begin packing your bags with her.

"No," She tells you firmly. You knit your brows.

"I'm going with you. I always go with you."

"Not this time. This is a big company, Kiwoo. You heard Jinhwa. You're going to be a star."

"I don't want to be a star."

"Sometimes we don't have a say in what we become." You had never seen Namjoo this serious before. You hate it. You start to cry because the thought of doing this without her sounds even worse than hell. You experience your first panic attack right there on the spot. Crying, gasping for air, feeling like your heart is going to explode, you can't breathe even with Namjoo counting down from ten to calm you down.

Despite this, you keep training and Namjoo goes to a different company. A smaller one. She's sure to debut there.

You're fifteen when you get put on the survival show. The New Wave. It's awful.

Most of the boys are mean and don't want to be friends. Everyone but you is desperate to debut; you're only desperate to get to your phone to talk to your best friend and sister. Namjoo's debut is coming up soon, and if you want to be there for her debut stage, not competing on a survival show, you have no chance of winning.

Or so you thought.

The people like you—they like you a lot. Your rank only gets higher every week, and by the finale, you're in sixth place. You barely made it, but you made it. You're debuting with six other boys you either don't like or don't know the name of. Either way, you're excited. You cry when Jinhwa announces your name because you just can't believe it. The worst is over, you think as you stand on that bright blue stage.

You were so naive.

— 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝟑 ; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒.

CURRENT INVENTORY:

The keys to your parents' house, you rarely use them. Tea bags for you and Noah. Matches because you hate using lighters. Hunger. The grief it's weighing you down significantly.

You never told anyone, but when you were 17 and Namjoo was 21, you two began planning how you two were going to kill yourselves. After only two years of activity, she brought it up first after her group disbanded. You were initially indifferent to the idea, but the more you two talked about it, the more serious it became. Truthfully, what did you have to live for?

DeepDive wasn't doing well. They weren't doing horrible, but they were underperforming to the point that Jinhwa often shipped you guys off to Japan. The group did well in Japan—nothing crazy, but better than they've ever done in Korea. You two texted about the plan daily since you couldn't see Namjoo in person. Every day, every hour, paragraphs about how and when you both will die and how freeing it will be to be dead, to feel nothing, to sleep forever.

Aside from the endless Japanese promotions, you found great success in singing OSTs for dramas you've never watched. Your songs perform well; they chart more than your group's songs, but you can't even bring yourself to care. The impending thought of your own demise sucks every bit of energy from you. Your success means nothing because it's fleeting. Death is forever.

Then you're eighteen, and Namjoo jumps off the bridge over the Han River. The detective told you she most likely died on impact when you went in with Jisung to identify her body. Your parents weren't in the country, but for once, you were.

It's an awful experience. It alters your perception of life, death, and everything in between. Seeing your best friend's dead body, feeling how cold and stiff her hands were, it changes everything—Her death changes everything. After the funeral, you go on a hiatus. You can tell by the looks in your groupmates eyes they don't think you'll come back and you truthfully don't know either. This failing group of boys you can barely bring yourself to care about is the last thing on your mind.

After a week of not getting out of bed, Jisung calls your mom because he's worried. She tells you to move back home, saying, "We should all be together right now."

You throw a fit—a massive fit. You shout at your mother the loudest you ever had, screaming at her to leave you alone, spewing the unspoken truths at her, and laying your family's business out for the entire dorm to see. There's not much business to air out, and that's the problem. Your parents weren't there. Namjoo was. She was the only family you ever had, and now she's dead, completing a plan that was supposed to include you without you. Your mother had no right to mourn, and neither did your father.

After that, you stay in the dorm, mainly in your room, rotting in your bed to the point your sheets fuse to your skin.

Jisung and Noah take care of you. Jisung helps you shower no matter how humiliating that is; Noah brings you food and sits with you even when you don't say anything for hours; Jisung sometimes sleeps in your room on the floor to wake you from the nightmares that become a nightly occurrence. Despite their kindness, you wish you were dead. You fantasize what it would be like to overdose in your bed and have one of them find you, altering their life forever.

You don't know why you think this way. You just do.

It takes you six months to rejoin the group and step outside again. The small group of fans DeepDive has collected rejoice when you step on stage again, screaming and clapping for you despite not even opening your mouth. For a brief moment, you have a purpose.

Suddenly, you're nineteen, and Jisung looks at you differently. At that point, you've never had a boyfriend, never even kissed a boy, and you're too busy. You've always been working. He calls you cute, and it makes your heart flutter. He puts his hand on your waist during promotions and when you two are in the kitchen, and he needs to get by. He watches your lips when you talk instead of your eyes. It's love, you think every time you look at him.

It took a lot of convincing, pestering even, for you to agree to have sex with Jisung for the first time. You're nervous and don't know what you're doing, but it's fine because it's love, and by the end of the discomfort, you'll be his boyfriend.

You never end up being Jisung's boyfriend. When you ask about it, he looks at you with so much pity you'd think he was looking at a wounded animal, not you. You feel stupid and used. You hate that feeling, so you end up hating him.

After that, men become easy. You go through them like tissues. It's low risk because no one knows who you are. DeepDive is slowly gaining traction, but it is not enough to make your face notable.

2020 hits like a brick. DeepDive has topped every chart and won every award you're nominated for. You're unstoppable, quickly becoming the global face of K-pop. It's very jarring, but idol life seems to be that way. One day, you're living off cup ramen that tastes like plastic, and the next, you're on Jimmy Fallon telling him about how much you love Arthea Franklin.

You're so busy you forget you're depressed. For once, you really feel like you're living your life. You're not happy, but you're not depressed.

You're finally just living.

— 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝟒 ; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄.

CURRENT INVENTORY:

Books, you still love to read. Sweet treats you baked yourself; baking puts you at ease. Your journal. The anger, you don't know where to put it. The grief, you just can't let it go. It's too comforting.

You're twenty-three now.

You're wildly successful career-wise. You have a ton of money because of your golden voice. You're adored by your group's massive fanbase. Life worked out pretty well for you all things considered.

But the depression made you mean, and the grief made you bitter. You belittle your friends' decisions, and you shoot daggers with your words at the man you say you love. You're not sure you can love anyone at this point. You haven't spoken to your mother in years, and your father hasn't spoken to you even longer. You have no plans to speak to your father ever again, but sometimes you long for your mother's hand through your hair when you're upset.

You live a good life, you suppose.

#˗ ˋ 🌊 dive deeper ﹕ underwater !#kpop oc #fictional idol community #idol oc #kpop addition #fictional idol oc #kpop au #oc kpop group #bts addition #idolverse

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sibylsleaves · 7 hours

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Ok can you describe their morning routine and perhaps their nighttime routine as well. 😃❣️

It definitely evolves over time and depends on what their schedule is/when their next shift is but this is how I picture it. Morning Routine:

Their first alarm goes off and they wake up and spoon for 20 mins. Sometimes this turns into morning sex but mostly it's just cuddling.

Their second alarm goes off and Buck always makes the same disappointed noise and is like just five more minutes 🥺🥺🥺

They cuddle for 5 more minutes and then they're like ok we really need to get up now if we don't want to be late.

Eddie gets Chris out of bed and they do morning exercises together while Buck makes them all breakfast.

They get dressed/get Chris all packed up and ready to go and either Buck drives him to school while Eddie stays home to shower/clean up/do more chores. Or if they have a shift, Buck and Eddie drop Chris at school together and drive to the firehouse. Sometimes Eddie will also tag along so he and Buck can stop at the gym on the way back and work out together.

They come home (or might stop to do more errands) and then sometimes have sex before they shower (also sometimes shower bjs) and get on with the rest of their day.

Evening Routine:

Chris does homework in his room or at the dining table if Buck or Eddie is helping him with it (this becomes a much less common occurrence the older he gets lmao because at some point it goes wayyyy over their heads)

Buck or sometimes Eddie AND Buck cook dinner. Eddie is SUPPOSED to have his own night to cook but Buck just hangs around the kitchen with him anyway so he might as well help

They clean up/do dishes and Chris goes to his room to finish his homework while Buck and Eddie relax on the couch together. They might have a beer, watch a show or a game, or they might just talk/gossip about stuff they don't want to talk about in front of Chris. Or they just make out.

If Chris finishes his homework early they might instead watch a show all together together, or Chris plays video-games (sometimes Buck joins) while Eddie makes him lunch for the next day. Once or twice a week they'll play a board game. I feel like Chris gets really into board games and joins a board game club at school so he's always got a cool new one to try.

Chris gets ready for bed and he's allowed to stay up and read in bed but there's no screen-time after 9pm.

Buck and Eddie stay up a little longer either finishing dishes/making Chris's lunch and going over their schedule and any important reminders for the next day (when Buck moved in he also bought them a big whiteboard that hangs in the kitchen that has a calendar, grocery list, meal plan, and weekly to-do list).

They check on Chris/make sure he's turned his light out by 10:30 and then get ready for bed (they always brush their teeth together and have gross toothpaste kisses) and either have sex or Buck reads in bed while Eddie cuddles him and dozes off. Sometimes Buck will read aloud to him.

#sibyl answers #eddiegettingshot #buddie established relationship spec

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she-weeb · 1 year

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#me #selfie #stay in bed #I have homework to do but I don't feel like it #NASA #nerd girl #otaku girl #nerd #weeb girl #weeb #girls

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totally-italy · 17 days

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Wherefore dost motivation hold deep hatred for me?

As the heading probably implies, I am currently lacking a lot of motivation, which is truly sub-optimal because I literally have my Italian GCSEs this week and I literally have not revised. Moreover, my End of Years are fast approaching and I have my French GCSEs in three week's time. Help.

Consequentially, even though my history teacher still refuses to believe that it is a word, I have decided to turn this into one of those posts where my dopamine literally just relies on the number of notes that I recieve. As promised, @the-red-planet-mars, the floor is yours you have been tagged.

Rules:

Please don't spam the comment section.

You can tag a maximum of 5 people.

Please don't spam reblog.

10 notes: I will actually plan my English homework so that I can then do it without having to ask for an extension. It is due on the day on which I have two of my Italian papers.

15 notes: I will update my 'Aeneid' notes so that my virtual document is up to date with the translations that we have done in class. I should technically also revise the themes and how Juno is portrayed, but we don't talk about that right now.

20 notes: If I haven't done this yet, I will create both a Spanish Quizlet with all the vocabulary I need to learn and I will create a Latin one for all the vocabulary from 'The Aeneid' that I need to know.

25 notes: I will plan, in English, different things that I could say for the picture for my French IGCSE oral. Also, this is a picture I will be using for my Spanish End of Years, so that is doubly helpful.

30 notes: I will do an Italian listening paper though I will listen to it at a faster speed than what is asked because otherwise I will literally get so bored and lose all will to live.

45 notes: I will finish researching Virgil and the historical context.

60 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 10 minutes each day for each language.

75 notes: I really need to do this. I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in Italian.

100 notes: I will do an Italian Writing practice paper. This is going to cause me so much suffering. Help me.

120 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my French IGCSE oral.

130 notes: I will make physics notes on energy.

140 notes: I will make notes on quantitative chemistry.

150 notes: I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in French.

155 notes: I will watch the AQA videos on the Cold War and make notes on them.

170 notes: I will do a practice Spanish listening paper.

200 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 30 minutes each day for each language, including a written vocabulary test.

230 notes: I will do a practice Spanish reading and writing paper.

250 notes: I will do a practice Latin translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.

270 notes: I will do a practice Greek translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.

300 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Crime and Punishment.

350 notes: I finish my Biology notes on reproduction.

380 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Religion and Life.

430 notes: I will look through my history notes on Germany and finish them in accordance to the AQA book.

520 notes: I will do a practice Greek language paper.

530 notes: I will do a practice Latin language paper.

605 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my Spanish End of Year oral.

720 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Buddhism.

850 notes: I will make full notes on the Cold War.

Honestly, if you have even bothered to read through all of these, you have absolutely earned more respect that I thought I was capable of giving to a single human being. I technically have a lot more things I should do, including re-reading Things Fall Apart and actually making complete maths notes, as well as notes for the sciences, but I doubt I will never get this many tags anyway.

Edit: It has been five minutes and I already got 14 notes. I am actually terrified of this site. What in Tartarus? Y'all are crazy and I love you so much.

#Good luck #You guys are never going to manage this #I really need the motivation but there are some things that I really don't want to do #Studying is so hard #If you guys happen to have any tips #Do feel free to put them in the comments #Unfortunately #Those count as notes so you would actually be helping #Thank you in advance #I feel like this will never work #But we shall see #l'italiana parla #I'm scheduling this so that it sends after lunch #I need to go and eat now #I also have a couple of pieces of homework to quickly do #Oops

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spacedace · 2 months

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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

#batman #batman au #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #dc penguin #dick grayson #jason todd #jason todd robin #dick grayson robin #bruce wayne #the joker #tim drake #dc robin #gotham city #open season au #i don't go in for Jason being the 'angry' robin or the 'violent' robin #he was the lil chainsmoking ball of sunshin robin that made sure to do his homework first before going out to fight crime #dick was the scariest robin because he was BOTH incredibly violent & full of rage AND a ball of sunshine & unrelenting hope #Jason was a Gotham kid (an Alley Kid) and I think a lot of the rogues would have respected that #dick got his respect by teaching them how many of their bones a tiny 9 year old could break in a single kick #feel like there's a scene in the extended au in which Tim gets kidnapped but instead of being held for ransom or threatened #it's just the Rogues aggressively mother-henning him and trying to make sure he's alright #Dick gets a call from Harley later that the newest Robin is fine he and Riddler are coming up with deadly traps together #No she doesn't see anything wrong with that - it's just some enrichment activities for them - why do you ask?

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bonefall · 6 months

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post/734733274896809984/do-you-ever-worry-your-own-writing-might-come-off that makes sense. i was asking because i'm afraid of accidentally writing misogyny myself and i kind of admire what you do

Hmm... I wish I had better advice to give you on this front, but honestly, the only thing I can tell you is to consider the perspective of your female characters.

Women are people. They have thoughts and feelings of their own, so like... just let them have their own arcs. A lot of the worst misogyny in WC comes from the way that the writers just don't care about their girls (or, in the case of tall shadow, actually get undermined and forced to rewrite entire chapters), so they're not curious about their lives, or WHY they feel the way they do or what they want, or any direction for their character arcs.

Turtle Tail as an example. She'll often just end up feeling whatever Gray Wing's plot demands. She's gotta leave when Storm dumps him to make him feel lonely. She shows up again to love him in the next book. Lets her best friend Bumble get dragged back to Tom the Wifebeater, but is sad enough about her death to be "unreasonably angry" with Clear Sky, and then calms down and accept Gray Wing is right all along.

And then she dies, so he can have his very own fridge wife.

In this way, Turtle Tail's just being used to tell Gray Wing's story. They're not interested in why she would turn on Bumble, or god forbid any lingering negative feelings for how she didn't help her, or even resentment towards Clear Sky for killing her or Gray Wing for jumping to his defense. She isn't really going through her own character arc.

She does have personality traits of her own, don't misunderstand my criticism, but as a character she revolves around Gray Wing.

So, zoom out every now and then, and just ask yourself; "Whose story is being told by what I wrote? Do my female characters have goals, wants, and agency, or are they just supporting men? How do their choices impact the narrative?"

But that's already kinda assuming that you already have characters like Turtle Tail who DO have personalities and potential of their own. Here's some super simple and practical advice that helped me;

Tally the genders in your cast. How many are boys, how many are girls, how many are others?

And take stock of how many of those characters are just in the supporting cast, and compare that to the amount you have in the main cast.

If you have a significant imbalance, ESPECIALLY in the main cast, fire the Woman Beam.

It's a really simple trick to just write a male character, and then change its gender while keeping it the same. I promise women are really not fundamentally different from men lmao. You can consider how your in-universe gender roles affect them later, if you'd like, but when you're just starting to wean yourself off a "boy bias" this trick works like a charm.

Also you're not allowed to change the body type of any girl you Woman Beam because I said so. PLEASE allow your girls to have muscles, or be fat, or be old, or have lots of scars. Do NOT do what a cowardly Triple A studio does, where the women all have the same cute or sexy face and curvy body while they're standing next to dwarves, robots, and a gorilla.

Or this shit,

If you do this I will GET you. If you're ever possessed by the dark urge, you will see my face appear in the clouds like Mufasa himself to guide you away from the path of evil.

Anyway, you get better at just making characters girls to begin with as time goes on and you practice it. It's really not as big of a deal as your brain might think it is.

Take a legitimate interest in female characters and try not to disproportionately hit them with parental/romance plots as opposed to the male cast, and you'll be fine. Don't think of them as "SPECIAL WOMEN CHARACTERS" just make a character and then let her be a girl, occasionally checking your tally and doing some critical thinking about their use in the story.

(Also remember I'm not a professional or anything, I'm just trying to give advice)

#I wish I had more succinct and practical advice to give you besides the woman beam trick #Honestly I just kinda feel it out because I like telling stories about girls #I made it fun for myself by clapping and cheering and whooping and hollering whenever a girl does something #because it's not fun to write like a monk in a monastery #With the spectre of Brother Smockbimble looming over your shoulder telling you to Write Perfectly Every Time #Characters aren't real people. You can just fix it if you happen to fuck up or do better next time with what you learned.#Making mistakes is just part of acquiring skill #and writing is an art just like painting or drawing.#So don't make a fun OC project into homework! You should be enjoying making your own art! Express yourself!#Please understand that when I'm ripping into the series I'm being so harsh because it's bestselling corporate media #Read by HUNDREDS of thousands of kids worldwide #Raking in millions of dollars a year. Written by a TEAM of professionals.#So I have higher expectations of it than of a fandom rando on the internet. Or even a self-published author who's just One Guy.#Hence why I'm infinitely more charitable to Ratha than I am to Battle Cats #bones gives advice

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