samsung: this dragon is my best friend. will protect her with my life. just trying to share the magic orb. cute whiskers, cute horns, cute tail. i love her
emoji one: simple design, excellent execution. complete with adorable tongue and beard. a magnificent beast.
facebook: fierce, majestic flying serpent. a poufy tail, a lovely orange mane, long, flowing whiskers. this girl could fly away with my heart, and also a chinese river.
microsoft: lovely orange fans. he’s still growing and learning, but he’ll get there. steps on his own tail sometimes. doing his best.
emojidex: old dragon but good dragon. fur instead of scales gives points for uniqueness, as do the interesting horns, but our old guy seems to be in an uncomfortable position.
messenger: this dragon enjoys reading about history. seems to be missing her back feet. also could do with some core excersizes, as her head seems to be a tad big for her body. she has many passions, and gets easily distracted.
apple: while the design is there, the actual execution seems to have gone a bit off. tail is too twisted to be comfy, and the modeling is pretty badly done. greedy for the orb; loses points for unwillingness to share.
mozilla: this dragon is very confused, but she’s at least trying to share the orb. two arms on one side?
HTC: only dragon on the list with wings, however, this dragon is not only blind but seems to have a dysfunctional single foot and a stub tail. and a leaf for an ear.
twitter: designer seems to have a vague understanding of how hands work. the poor dragon’s head is far too big for his body.
LG: seems in theory a good design, but in reality, this dragon is fucking ugly.
google: basic misunderstanding of limbs and linework. an revolting mess.
“Some gringas have imitated me; they want to dress like ‘Mexicans,’ but those poor women look like cabbages, and to tell you the truth they look plain ugly”
-Frida Kahlo, The Letters of Frida Kahlo, 1995
This quote has a lot of relevance in respect to the recent events in the fandom. Too often Whites have stolen, taken, and appropriated the identities and cultures of People of Color for their brown paper doll oc’s. They bastardize them, filling their backstories and personalities with racist tropes and stereotypes. They ignore criticism of such actions, dismiss and trivialize concerns of People of Color as drama, and attempt to victimize themselves or dismiss their actions with shitty excuses and shitty apologies.
It is because of these recent events that I have decided to bring Not your White Fave’s OC back. People of Color cannot rely on whites in the fandom to do right by us, to stand up for us; we cannot rely on them to own up to their racism and take the appropriate steps to rectify their disgusting actions.
People of Color truly need a space for themselves, away from the racism, ignorance and indifference of the mainstream white fandom.
There have been many People of Color in the fandom and in general on Tumblr that call for the creation of “our own spaces” because we are ignored, harassed, stereotyped, etc in the mainstream fandom. However, once a said space is made, those same people leave it on read so to speak. Either it is performative, or they still desire white affirmation.
I’m here to say that we do not need white affirmation. Referring back to the original Characters of Color post, “ We don’t need to ask for acceptance from anyone. We are enough, we’ve been enough and we always will be enough.”- Taraji P. Henson.
The goal of this blog is still the same, to create a safe place in response to the othering, and exclusion of creatives of color in the white mainstream fandom. A place where people of color could share and celebrate their ocs and their work without fear of being spoken over.
A place for original characters of color made BY people of color, for any form of creative content made by people of color. A place to celebrate our races and cultures without having to censor it for a white audience. It is a place to encourage creators of color to share their work, to make oc’s that represent them, and to be surrounded by a community of people like them!
And so with that I’ll end with this:
Welcome to Not Your Yt Fave’s OC, a blog made for Creators of Color by People of Color!
wow my second ever headcanons (for @markiplier‘s egos obviously) yee yee here we go. this is basically just what the egos’ favorite candy would be.
tagging the lovely @markired and @intplier again bc i think they’ll enjoy these (im probs gonna tag you lovelies in like everything i post im so sorry please tell me if im bothering you)
Wilford: He loves literally all types of candy. The only exception is black licorice. According to him, that stuff is worse than eating tar.
Dark: Denies liking any type of candy, but is a hard core chocoholic. Rumor has it that he’s even snuck Kinder Surprise Eggs across the US border just to try the chocolate. He loved it so much that he orders about a hundred every few months and has them illegally shipped across the border. (He gives all the toys to Wilford and Bim, don’t worry).
Doc: He only really likes black licorice, much to Wilford’s dismay. However, they have a system where every time either of them gets massive amounts of candy (Usually just on Halloween. Usually. Wilford can be sporadic sometimes.), Doc gets all the black licorice while Wilford gets the rest. It works out in the end.
The Googles: They don’t eat often, but they all enjoy marshmallows, despite the fact that they’re not technically candy. Sometimes they throw campfire parties (which Wilford is always oddly absent from) just to roast marshmallows.
The Host: Likes candy corn (a very underrated candy) and sour gummy worms. He says they’re good snacks for when he’s writing.
Bim: He’s absolutely in love with tootsie rolls. One time, Wilford surprised him with a 5 foot long tootsie roll and Bim didn’t stop thanking him for days.
King: Will only eat Paydays and refuses everything else. He says it’s for his squirrel’s sake, since they won’t go near him if he doesn’t smell like peanuts. Wilford tries to tell him he definitely does not have to worry about not smelling like peanuts, but he still only sticks with Paydays.
Alec knew it wouldn’t be for long, something worse always lays in wait around the corner, but following Valentine’s arrest, life had settled.
And he was, for the most part, loving it.
He loved that Izzy was getting healthy again; he loved that Jace wasn’t a Morgenstern with demon blood in him; he loved that the Institute was running with some semblance of normalcy.
He loved that he had the time to be with Magnus, and that that time was rarely interrupted.
Nights were spent in Magnus’ arms, more often than not. Alec had gotten used to waking up surrounded by Magnus in every way possible – his arms, his scent, the constant buzzing that was his magic settling in the air around them. It had quickly become one of his favourite routines after their declarations of love following the slaughtering of the Downworlders by Valentine’s hand.
Alec had been awake on and off for about an hour before he decided to get up. Magnus hadn’t moved from his position spooned up behind him – it seemed like the warlock was in for a rare sleep-in.
That was why Alec so carefully extracted himself from Magnus’ embrace. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to his lover, when Magnus rolled onto his front, arm outstretched over Alec’s spot.
It wasn’t rare that Alec found himself struck by just how much he loved this man, so when it happened again in that moment, he smiled and let the feeling wash over him.
The realisation that he couldn’t spend the day watching Magnus always pulled him away from doing just that. He sighed as silently as he could and started the task of finding his clothes. They’d at least started in the bedroom that night. The previous morning, Alec had been forced to duck around every piece of furniture Magnus had, trying to keep his bits from any eyes that might’ve seen him through the curtain-free windows.
Alec managed to find every piece of clothing he’d worn the day before, except for one sock. Which was odd, because it wasn’t like they threw their socks while undressing. Where one sock was, the other normally wasn’t far away.
He dropped to his hands and knees and searched under the bed, then sat on the edge of the mattress (gently, so as to not wake Magnus) to feel along his legs to see if it was trapped in his pants, then searched through every nook and cranny the heavily-decorated room had.
It wasn’t until he turned with a defeated huff that he finally found the darn thing, held tightly in Magnus’ hand, right over the spot where Alec had been sleeping not ten minutes before.
A barely-there grin adorned Magnus’ face – it was the only thing he was wearing. There was no makeup, no jewellery, and when he’d open his eyes, there’d be no glamour, either.
“Cheeky Warlock,” Alec admonished fondly and slipped onto the bed to retrieve his sock, only to have Magnus’ smile grow as he rolled over and away from him. “C’mere.”
Magnus tucked the hand under his chest when Alec crawled over him. “What’s the password?”
“As much as I’d love to play with you in bed today, Magnus,” Alec said, dropping down to kiss Magnus’ bare shoulder, then another to the bare ridge of his ear, “I have work to do. Demons to kill; bureaucrats to placate.”
His cat eyes shone brightly, playfully. “What’s the password?” Magnus repeated.
Alec straddled his hips and urged Magnus to turn over, but Magnus just stuffed the sock behind his back. He took a guess at the password and kissed Magnus, just a soft peck to his lips.
“Not it, darling; try again.”
So Alec did, bending down to kiss him harder, nipping at Magnus’ lips, slipping his tongue against Magnus’, enough that Magnus’ cheeks were flushed when they pulled away.
“Hmm,” Magnus hummed and nuzzled into Alec’s chin. “Still not it.”
Alec rolled his eyes, but started to pepper Magnus’ jaw, neck and shoulders, leaving a mark or two where they would be visible if Magnus felt like wearing one of his tunics instead of a shirt.
“Not quite, my love.” Alec’s breath caught at the endearment. It always did.
Love. They were in love.
It didn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow at Magnus, though. “Oh?” he asked and started to trail his mouth lower. He nipped at a nipple, then the other, and felt the rumble of Magnus’ chesty chuckle against his lips.
“As much as I love the direction you’re taking this in,” he paused to gasp when Alec’s kisses brought him to his belly button, “but that’s not it, either.”
Alec wasn’t too sure of that; he could feel Magnus’ hardness against his him.
“My Alexander, it is a password. What your mouth can say, not what it can do to me.” Magnus stifled a yawn and it might have been the most endearing thing Alec had ever seen. “Actually,” he continued, “this password from your lips does all sorts of wonderful things to me.”
Alec crawled back up Magnus’ body, cupped his face with his hands, and placed a long and languid kiss to Magnus’ mouth.
“I love you,” he said, meaning it more than ever, as he did with every time he said it, and Magnus positively glowed under him.
“I love you too.”
They kissed a little while longer, the sock and the day forgotten.
On their first date Jim asks permission to hold Spock’s hand and Spock thinks that Jim doesn’t know how Vulcans kiss and is just being super courteous, so he starts explaining, and Jim’s just like “I know that, I’m trying to kiss you, you idiot”