#I still do it sometimes but I'm making a conscious effort to stop because I really wasn't liking how it was looking

[ruuari]

trying out something more stylized and I think it’s cute!!!! ;u; that one picrew I made vanitas in stuck in my brain like glue, plus been big inspired by artists with a similar look to that recently

I BOUGHT A SWEATER THAT SAYS “QUEER AND TIRED” ON IT and it made me feel really... good!!!!! so this is inspired by that too

I’ve seen people do like... full body stickers, so I’m playing around with this kind of style!! I want to draw ven in a similar outfit, and maybe them both in binders too... and another idea I have of them together...

PRIDE SET PRIDE SET

[enchantress-arc]

It's really fun to torture someone with pleasure without giving them any warning. To snap my fingers and put them into heat, see that look in their eyes as they feel the arousal growing between their thighs, as their conscious mind finally realizes what's happening, what they're going to be reduced to for the rest of the day. Seeing them whine and begin to beg with those adorable little eyes of theirs, and leaning in to oblige, kissing them, rubbing the pleasure into them even further. Teasing them, making their heat even stronger, and taking out my girlcock as if to please them, to satiate their heat, right before snapping again and locking them in place. They can no longer move, at least not on their own, not without being ordered to, so I'll push them down onto their back. I'll tease them a little more, rubbing their parts with my hand, snapping again and ordering them to spread their legs, watching their body obey. Putting my girlcock right next to their hole, listening to those sharp little breaths they take when they feel it just about to enter, and their whining when it passes by. Kissing them on the neck, teasing, making their heat, their need to be used become more unbearable with every passing second. Finally putting my girlcock in, just a tiny bit, only to take it out almost immediately and put a vibrator inside instead. Telling them they aren't allowed to cum without permission. Thrusting it in and out manually for a bit before turning it on, forcing it in as deep as it can go, and just leaving them there, helplessly locked in place for an hour or two. Occasionally reaching over to tease them a bit more, biting, licking, sucking, applying pressure to the vibrator, making out with them, shoving my tits in their mouth, and sometimes acting as if I'm going to fuck them before pulling away yet again. Eventually I'll order them to place their head between my thighs and worship. Between the conditioning forcing their body to obey and all of the pent up pleasure they're feeling, they'll be desperate for any form of release, desperate to obey, they'll do anything I order them to with the utmost passion. Feeling them worship my thighs and my girlcock while they pathetically grind on my calf, hoping for a release that simply won't come. Eventually I'll tell them to stop, I'll reach down and pull the vibrator out of them, tell them how wonderfully obedient they've been. I'll order them to cum as soon as I cum inside of them. And then I'll allow them to position themselves however they'd like to be fucked. Just using them like the pathetic, slutty little fucktoy they are. And every now and then, when I feel close, I'll stop for a moment just to make them wait a little longer. Stopping over and over just to make sure they're not allowed to cum. And when I feel satisfied, like I've enjoyed myself enough, I'll simply pull out, and finish outside of them, even after all of that effort they put in. Just to hear them whimper and whine, just to enjoy seeing how pent up they'll be. I'll have them rest their head on my chest, allowed to thrust against my legs as much as they want, but still disallow them from feeling release. And while they're laying there, their mind barely functioning, just an adorable, thoughtless pile of pleasure and desperate submission, I'll order them and thank their mistress for denying them. And they'll obey, because they are nothing more than a good thrall, and good thralls obey their mistress.

[alessiasfreckles]

14 leah plsss xoxoxo

the ways i love you - leah williamson x reader

14. A kiss to the stomach

warnings: negative body image

-------

You sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You had bought a new bikini for your holiday with Leah, wanting something cute to wear at the pool or on the beach.

You loved Leah with all your heart, but sometimes dating a professional footballer was hard. Especially when you were very much not a professional footballer and enjoyed chocolate a little more than you should. She was incredibly attractive, and her body was just amazing, but occasionally you'd catch yourself comparing your bodies, which you knew wasn't fair.

She would tell you that as well - that it was unfair and unrealistic to expect your body to look like that of a professional athlete, and that she loved the way your body looked, not just because it was gorgeous, stunning, sexy, but because it was your body.

Still, you'd catch yourself frowning when you saw your reflection, especially next to hers, and lately you'd been having to make an extremely conscious effort to not talk or think negatively about your body.

You turned, looking at yourself from the side in the mirror. You knew, logically, that most girls and afab people carried some fat on their stomach. That it wasn't anything unusual, or anything to be ashamed of. You poked your stomach with a grimace, watching it in the reflection.

Leah's voice echoed in your head, telling you how beautiful you were, and you rolled your eyes. As if she could read your mind, Leah poked her head around the bedroom door.

"Woah, look at you!" she said when she saw what you were wearing, whistling appreciatively. "Baby, you look fantastic! Is that a new bikini?"

You covered your stomach with your arms self-consciously, shrugging. "Yeah, I got it for our holiday. But I don't know, I might return it."

"What, why?" she asked, walking over to you and stopping a few feet away to look you up and down again. Her eyes lingered on your chest and legs, pausing at your arms covering your stomach.

You shrugged again. "I just, I feel too, I dunno, exposed? I don't think this is the right kind of thing for my body."

"I think it's exactly the right kind of thing for your body," Leah said firmly, then hesitated. "Can... Can I do something?"

You squinted at her suspiciously. "What?"

"Can you lie down on the bed for me? I just want to see if I can help make you feel better," she explained. When you raised an eyebrow her cheeks pinkened slightly. "Not sex! I mean, I'm happy to make you feel better that way, too, but that's not what I had in mind."

"Uh-huh," you said, smirking at her, but you got on the bed anyway, lying down.

"Can you close your eyes for me?" she asked. "If you want me to stop, just say, okay?"

You nodded, eyes closed, and felt Leah climb onto the bed, near your legs. You jumped when her hands brushed your calves and thighs, stroking them, massaging them.

"I love your legs," she started. "I love your legs because they're beautiful and they're yours, but I also love them because they're strong. They let you walk, run, swim. They're powerful. They help hold you up."

She placed kisses up and down each leg gently, the soft touch making your heart swell with love. Then she moved to your arms, straddling you to reach both easily. You grinned as she straddled you, and you could feel her laughing above you.

"This is not sexual, remember? Not yet at least," she said, and you could hear the smirk in her voice. She touched each arm, in a similar fashion to how she'd touched your legs, caressing them gently. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, your arms, and your hands. I love your arms. I love how soft your skin is, the dimple by your elbows. I love them because they let you hold my hand, they let you hug me, they let you do all sorts of things to me. Your arms are strong, like your legs, they're powerful and beautiful."

Your throat felt tight, like you were going to cry. Leah kissed your arms, making her way from your shoulders to your wrists.

"Your hands are so perfect. They fit in mine like we were made for each other, like two puzzle pieces linking together. Your hands do so many amazing things," she continued, and kissed each fingertip, then the palms of your hands.

You felt her body weight shift as she moved down, sitting on your thighs. You tensed as her hands came to rest on your stomach, aware of every movement she made, everywhere her hands touched.

"I love your stomach. I love how it looks, I love that it's soft, it's so beautiful and attractive. I love that if i touch it a certain way, like this, it makes your stomach feel like it's flipping and it makes you giggle," she said, brushing her hand over your stomach to prove her point, making you jump and smile when your stomach flipped. "I love that it lets you eat yummy food, that it makes so many noises at night when we're going to sleep, that one day our baby will be in there."

You felt a tear leak out of your closed eyes as she pressed kisses to your stomach, gently, as if she was worried about breaking you. Sniffling a little, you opened your eyes when you felt her move off you, coming closer to you.

"Oh, I didn't mean to make you cry," she said, wiping away your tears with the back of her hand.

"No, no, it's okay," you shook your head. "They're good tears."

"Oh, phew! I was worried," she smiled, stroking your cheek softly. "I love you. I love all of you, all of your body, all of your brain, so so much."

"I love you, too," you said, and she leant forward, kissing you, her lips soft against yours.

"And, I really do like this bikini," she said as she pulled back. She winked and reached down to the string on the side of the bikini, pulling it open. "It really does look amazing on you. But... I think it'd look even better off."

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 12: Pregnancy Kink

Let 'em All Know

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, pregnancy (obvi), body image issues, Elvis has been drinking, also reader is drinking a tad while pregnant because it is period-appropriate, kissing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: ~1.2k

Kinktober Masterlist

“Baby, you about ready?” Elvis walks into the room as you're slipping your shoes on. He looks at you and frowns a little. 

“What? You don't like it?” You've chosen a very loose-fitting dress with an empire waist in an effort to hide your growing baby bump. For most of your pregnancy you've just looked like you had a big meal, but in the last few weeks you've really started to look pregnant. The extra weight has been a real hit to your ego, so you're not exactly eager to go to a party looking like this. 

“No. I don't. You look like you're wearin’ a tent.” 

“Elvis, this is what pregnant women wear.” He purses his lips. 

“Not my pregnant woman. Here.” You slip your shoes off as he goes into the closet and starts to rummage through your clothes. “Wear this.”

He comes back with one of your tighter dresses with bell sleeves that barely covers your ass. You shake your head emphatically. 

“Noooo. I can't wear that. My belly will be so obvious.”

“Yes. It will.”

“Elvis. I don't even know if it'll zip.” He takes the other dress off of you, stopping to momentarily admire your body and then hands you the other dress. 

“Mmm. Just try it, please.” You manage to get the dress on and he zips it. It's not as uncomfortable as you imagined it would be, but your baby bump is absolutely noticeable. 

“Happy now?” He smiles slyly. 

“Yes, I am. Now everyone at the party can see my woman with my baby in her belly.” You roll your eyes. Sometimes his possessiveness and dominance can get a little out of hand. 

“And that's a good thing because…?”

“They'll know you belong to me. And I did that. Besides, you look so sexy and cute with this li’l bump, Satnin. I want to show you off, not hide you in a parachute.” He helps you put your shoes on and you head for the door together. 

“A parachute?”

“Yes, baby, that dress looked like a World War II parachute.” You laugh and he kisses your cheek as you make your way to the car. 

******

You don't love the Colonel, but you'll admit his birthday party has been pretty enjoyable. Elvis is in a great mood, singing parodies of his songs and generally acting like a hooligan. He's right in the middle of filming the Singer Special and the party is on the set. You know he's feeling more like himself than he has in a long time, but you can't help but be a little self-conscious there in your tight dress with your belly so obvious. 

You're standing with your glass of champagne when Elvis comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. 

“Hey baby. You look good enough to eat tonight.” He whispers in your ear, running his hands over your belly. You cringe and try to pull away.  

“Elvis, you're drunk.”

“I am not! You've been drinking champagne too.”

“Yes, but this is my second glass. You've had four.” He giggles and kisses your neck.

“Okay, well, maybe I'm a little tipsy. I still think you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen.” He not-so-surreptitiously squeezes your breast and you yelp. 

“Elvis!”

“What? They know we have sex. You're pregnant.” 

“Still! Can we go home first?” He nibbles on your earlobe, and you moan softly. You feel him smile against the skin of your neck. He knows exactly what to do to turn you on. 

“Baby, if you'd let me, I'd lay you right here on this table and fuck you in front of the whole party.” A shiver runs down your spine at the thought as you imagine it: fucking him where people could see. You rub your thighs together and your arousal starts to form. “You like that, don’tcha baby?” 

He drags his tongue up your neck to your earlobe again and your pussy clenches around nothing. The pregnancy hormones have made you significantly hornier and he knows it. All he has to do is push the right buttons and he can have you screaming his name in no time. 

“You want daddy to fuck you at the party? Give that little pussy what she needs?” He shifts a little and presses his hard cock into your ass. 

“Mmm, yes daddy.” You moan and bite your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet and composed. 

“Let's go to my car.” You shake your head and take his hand, dragging him away from the party to another part of the set. “Baby, what're you-”

“Ah ha!” You've found what you're looking for. He looks around at the set for the bordello scene. It's pretty much quiet over here. You can both hear the party as it goes on not too far away, but you also know you're alone. 

“Honey, we can't do it here.” You push him backwards onto a couch. 

“Oh, I thought you said you'd fuck me in front of the whole party if I let you? Undo your pants.” He stops arguing and goes to work freeing his dick from his pants. Most of the time he's the dominant one in the relationship, but every once in a while you find your power and he has no problem taking orders. 

Once his cock is out, he reaches up and yanks your panties down and your skirt up, guiding your hips down to him. He pulls his foreskin back and rubs his tip along your entrance, gathering your arousal. 

“Mmm, that's a good boy. Make sure it's nice and wet for mama.” You've never called yourself mama before, but it just feels right in the moment and his eyes go wide as plates as his dick twitches in his hand. 

“Y-yes mama. Whenever you're ready…” You slowly start to sink onto him, feeling every inch of him as he enters you. He has to scoot a little to make room for your belly, but it works and he's hypnotized by the scene in front of him as you begin to roll your hips into his. You already feel your climax gathering in your hips and you moan loudly, biting your lip to try to stifle it. All the extra blood from the pregnancy makes your orgasms mind-blowing, so you're afraid you might scream when it happens. He grabs the side of your face, tangling his fingers in your hair, and makes you look down at him. 

“Fuck it. Make as much noise as you want. Let ‘em all know that you're mine.” With that, you soar over the edge into an earth-shattering release, a primal cry escaping your lips as the waves of infinite pleasure crash and break over your trembling body. “Yes, baby. Just like that. Daddy’s turn.” 

In a split second, he's back to being the dominant one as he grabs your hips and pounds into you from underneath. He grunts and groans as your tits bounce while he fucks you and you whimper. He pulls you into a deep kiss and then mumbles against your lips.  

“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna make such a mess inside you. You want it?”

“God, fuck, yes, please.” 

He moans loudly as he slams into you one last time, his release spilling out of him. When he's finished, you both relax into each other, sweating and panting. You're in this position when someone from the party, Sonny maybe, yells. 

“Hey EP! You know you can't get her pregnant twice!”

Elvis smiles that mischievous lopsided grin at you, kisses you gently, and hollers back. 

“I'm Elvis Presley! You don't know what I'm capable of!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[majoliish]

i know the obey me boys are all pretty rowdy in their own ways, especially once they've combined forces, but I do genuinely believe that each and every one of them would do their own thing to make sure you feel included in conversations, even if you happen to be a pretty quiet and shy person by nature.

under the cut: the seven demon brothers finding ways to help a reader who struggles to be heard/listened to during conversations

Lucifer commands attention when he's talking, it's just a known fact of the world. Barely anybody ever dares to interrupt him. It may take him a while to notice that you struggle to participate in conversations and interactions, but once he has, it lingers non-stop in his mind until he figures out a smooth way to rope you into the subject. He'll scold those who interrupt you, and sometimes just may randomly ask for your opinion on things, a bit like a teacher randomly calling on a student. Though he can be a bit of a bulldozer at times, he does make a conscious effort to make sure you feel seen and heard, and you get an opportunity to say your part in every conversation.

Mammon struggles with this a lot himself, on both sides - he often talks over others, but also gets talked over in turn, so it really frustrates him to see when you're not getting your turn to speak. He takes a headstrong approach to it, simply demanding for everyone else to shut up so you can speak. If anyone argues with him or interrupts when you're speaking, they'll earn a smack upside the head and a surprisingly stern look ("What, you didn't think I could take authority like that? I'm the second oldest, c'mon, give me some credit!"). He won't hesitate to try and preside over an entire conversation just to make sure everyone is getting a fair turn, and nobody is going on for too long. If all else fails and he knows you're still struggling to break into the conversation, he's more than happy to just pull you off to the side and inform you that you're allowed to say whatever you like to him, the others just get to miss out because they were all absorbed in whatever they were saying.

Leviathan is almost painfully ignorant of how much he can talk at times. He can go for minutes at a time with barely a break to take a breath, especially when it's a subject he's passionate about. He thrives at first when you seem to just let him talk a lot, but over time he begins to pick up on the signs, because he's had it happen to him, too (albeit in a much more over-the-top way from his brothers), and he soon starts to fret over you - he may categorise you as a 'quiet character' archetype in conversations but it's like it hurts him personally to see you try to enter a conversation only to fail. He works really hard to push conversations towards your interests and things you'd know about so you'll be given a fair go and an opportunity to shine and show off your knowledge! (Bonus points if it's also something he likes as well)

Satan is on the ball from the first time he sees it happen, and he silently seethes on your behalf, even if you don't seem all that upset. He agonises over it for a while, trying to hold in his anger until it just pops a few minutes later, and he goes off at anyone who talked over you or wouldn't listen to what you had to say. He's been ignored and spoken over his fair share of times, so it's a touchy subject to him, and he firmly believes that nobody else deserves that sort of treatment. If it happens again, he's on it right away, pointing out that you had something to say, and whoever spoke over you needs to wait their turn (usually in more unfriendly words). If it happens a third time, however, he'll just take your arm and drag you off and insist that he's more than happy to listen to you for as long as you like.

Asmodeus finds it to be a pretty baffling conundrum at first, he just doesn't quite grasp what the big deal is, it's not something he really notices, but if it's pointed out, or there's a certain subject he really wants your opinion on, he starts to pick up on it more and more, and it just won't sit right with him. The more he thinks about it, the sadder he gets on your behalf - to him, not being paid attention to is akin to a dagger in the heart. It's not long before he's figured out his own 'Asmo-coded' way of making sure you stay in the loop. He'll stand close by you when he can, sometimes draping an arm around you, twining your pinkies or holding hands - he has no problem keeping attention on himself, so by including you in his radiance, it's like the both of you are suddenly being listened to - it works like a charm, and you'll have any chance you like to fully dominate the conversation.

Beelzebub isn't really on the ball with social situations - he's a demon of few words, and those words are usually some variation of "I'm hungry.". However, he's had a few incidents where he's had something he felt was very important or genuine that he needed to say and has been talked over by his chattier brothers, so he knows what it's like. You'll notice that he always pays careful attention to you when you're speaking, and will keep his eyes on you even if you trail off as you get interrupted. He's experienced the same situation with Belphie a lot over the years, so knows what signs to look out for, and doesn't want you to go through the same grief his little brother has. He asks follow up questions to your statements and pays careful attention to the things you say - he may not have the greatest memory, but he tries really hard, and his warmth and kindness has a sort of comforting glow to it.

Belphegor, while it seems like he always has the attention of the others, knows exactly how you feel (albeit in a slightly different way). While he's heard, he's not listened to, and others tend to brush him and his words off pretty quickly, only to give praise to someone else when they say pretty much the exact same thing. Once he's started to notice the pattern, it's like he's always got an eye on you (when they're not both closed, that is). It's kind of like a mimicry of what Beelzebub does, but in his own signature way. It's kind of like, when he notices you're being shunned out of the conversation, he's pulling you into a separate little bubble off to the side and making sure that you know that you've got his attention and you're allowed to speak as much as you like to him without having to worry about being spoken over or not listened to.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites and using it to teach bots!

[iamwhoami]

It Will Get Better (Grey's Anatomy)

Grey's Anatomy

It wasn't that bad. That's what you told yourself each time. But as the excuses start piling up, Amelia Shepherd can't deny what's in front of her any longer and tries to convince you that it was bad enough to finally do something.

Warnings: Domestic Violence/Abuse

Requested = Yes

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

WOW it has been a hot second. A very hot second. A burning second. Maybe I'm back? I'm so sorry to all the other requests that I just haven't gotten to but I'm going to try to make an effort to write more again.

Sometimes you felt stupid.

Here you were, a well accomplished and respected surgeon with a soaring career, yet you just couldn't seem to leave.

Sometimes, you would stop and wonder why you couldn't.

Because you loved him.

Because he loved you.

Sometimes you would convince yourself that you would leave. That when night came and he fell asleep, you'd pack a bag and walk out the door. Of course, that never happened, because each time, you'd convince yourself that it was your fault.

You upset him. You shouldn't have picked a fight with him. You deserved what he did to you.

That he was a good man. That he was going to change.

That he loved you.

After an especially rough night, you woke up groaning. Your body was on fire, resisting every move you made. Aching, you managed to get yourself to the bathroom and in the mirror, you examined the damage.

"Shit..." You cursed softly as your fingers traced the blaring purple splotch along your cheek.

This was going to be difficult to cover.

Sighing, you rinsed your face off with cold water and wiped it dry before pulling out your makeup bag. The bruise was already vibrant and you knew that make up wouldn't make it completely disappear. But you were hoping that between the light and the angle, you could make it work.

It was a routine you were all too familiar with.

~~~

"Y/L/N!"

You turned around, looking up from your patient's chart to see a grinning Amelia Shepherd walking towards you.

"Just the person I was looking for," Amelia grinned, her smile infectious.

Amelia Shepherd was the first person you met when you first started working at Grey Sloan after transferring from your previous hospital. She quickly became the first friend that you made too. Realistically, you trusted Amelia with your life.

"I feel like I haven't seen you around much," Amelia commented. "We should do something on a day off, I need some Y/N time."

You chuckled and agreed despite knowing that you would never spend time with your colleagues outside of work because he would never let you.

"What can I do for you?" You asked and began walking towards the nurse's station. Your body still protested every movement though and you couldn't help but let out a soft groan.

Amelia eyed you carefully but let it slide, "I just need a consult."

You nodded and she pulled up the scans, eyes still trained on your expression for any kind of sign of discomfort.

As you carefully examined the scans on Amelia's tablet, you could feel her gaze trained on your face and you felt yourself staring harder at the tablet than necessary.

However, just when you thought you could get away with it, Amelia spoke up before you could open your mouth.

"What happened there?" Amelia softly asked, her hand reaching to your cheek.

You instinctively flinched and Amelia's hand paused before she lowered it.

"Y/N?"

You blushed, "Don't worry about it Amelia, I'm just clumsy and slipped. I hit my face against the table."

Amelia, of course, was not convinced but she sensed the anxiety in your body and let it slide.

"You would let me know if something was wrong right?" Amelia quietly asked and you nodded before forcing a smile on your face.

"Of course I would."

You felt sick lying to Amelia through your smiling teeth but there was a heavy weight in your stomach that made you do it.

He loved you.

~~~

You made a conscious effort to avoid Amelia after that close call. It hurt your heart to do so but you couldn't risk it. You took longer routes to get to places in the hospital when you could. You avoided break rooms that she was in.

Amelia knew you were avoiding her too. She let you have your space for a while but when it became clear that you weren't going to let up any time soon, she began to try to reach out to you.

It was one missed call. Then two. Then you stopped answering texts. You contemplated blocking her altogether but couldn't bring yourself to do it.

One evening after a long shift, you let yourself melt into the comfort of your couch, your partner watching the Seahawks game next to you.

Your phone sounded and you glanced at your screen to see a text message from Amelia. Sighing, you closed your phone and turned it face down on the coffee table.

But it didn't stop.

A series of text messages resulted in a series of dings but as you were reaching out to grab your phone to silence it, your partner's arm pushed past you and ripped your phone off the coffee table.

"What the fuck is so important that it's interrupting the game," He grumbled and looked at the screen. "Amelia?"

"My coworker," You quickly responded. "She's probably just asking about a patient."

He eyed you and you thought you were going to get away with it until his glare hardened.

"Prove it."

You gulped knowing that Amelia's text messages weren't about a patient. Your heart raced as you stumbled for an excuse but your hesitation was more than enough for him to lash out at you.

You weren't sure how long it would have lasted had your pager not gone off. Maybe the whole night for all you knew. Mumbling that you needed to be more transparent with him, he backed off, leaving you to pick yourself up off the floor.

Your body screamed in protest as you gathered yourself as quickly as possible before rushing off to the hospital. A massive trauma had come in and they needed all hands on deck. On your way out, you managed to pop two Advils into your mouth before grabbing your bag.

As you drove to the hospital, your mind raced with excuses to explain the growing bruises on your skin. You knew that in the moment, the hospital would be too busy to question the blotches but the aftermath would be an interrogation.

~~~

Exhausted and burning, you had finally made it through all the surgeries and now all the patients were in recovery. As you closed your eyes, you let yourself relax into the couch in the break room, a steaming cup of tea in your hands.

You felt someone sit down next to you and you didn't need to open your eyes to confirm it was Amelia.

"Let me guess, you fell again?" Amelia spoke softly and you knew it wasn't actually a question.

She knew.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything. To lie and deny what she knew. To tell the truth and confirm what she knew. You felt your throat tingle as a lump formed and a tear silently escaped your closed eyes.

"You don't need to keep doing this," Amelia said and gently placed her hand on your arm.

You still didn't respond and Amelia took the cup out of your hands before placing it on the table with a soft clink.

"Y/N, look at me," She said but your eyes remained closed.

"Y/N."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes even though one was beginning to swell shut.

"You deserve better," Amelia spoke with conviction, her gaze focused on your eyes. "It's not your fault, it was never your fault."

You swallowed and shook your head softly, "I can't."

"Yes you can," Amelia said. "You can. I will be here the entire time but you just have to trust me. It will get better if you just trust me on this one."

"He loves me." You replied but your voice quivered.

Amelia's heart broke at your words, "Y/N, this isn't love. Love doesn't hurt like this."

The singular tear that had slipped through your eyes seemed to have been an invitation for the others to follow as your body began to shake with each sob.

Slowly, Amelia wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to her side before stroking your hair.

"I promise Y/N, it will get better," She whispered. "You deserve so much better."

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath as the tears kept dripping down your cheeks.

"Okay," You mumbled back. "I trust you."

[thecoolerliauditore]

Going thru it. Idk I just think a good beefy breakdown of what Scott means when he says he "loves" someone would be really cool because you know if you asked that mf what love was he'd be like well ☺️ it's this beautiful thing in your heart and youll know it when it happens 💞 and we'd get absolutely nowhere.

Like Scott "loves" Pearl. According to him. And he obviously wants her to love him back judging by SL. And I'd argue him teaming with her and making the effort of coming up with cheesy lines is a sign of this too.

He "cares" about Pearl. He looks out for her in episode 2 when he throws her lapis to eat as soon as he realises it's edible and she's taking damage from hunger. He tells her to stop antagonizing people and compares himself to an overworked mother at one point -- implying he has to protect and manage her (mind you he was referring to the whole team with the mother comment but it's pretty clear to me he's not talking about Cleo, and Impulse has been getting on his nerves for sure but he never said anything of the sort when they were teamed in SL).

But right before he throws her the lapis in episode 2, he's throwing her a ton of other items for her to try and eat instead of trying them himself, making a conscious decision to let Pearl test the waters instead of himself. He speaks like he thinks highly of Pearl - sometimes with a tone of indignance, like when he refers to her "crown" that she earnt in DL, sometimes with a more wholesome tone, like the "best Pearl" comment -- but it's hard to say what scale he is judging by. You usually don't feel like you're "mothering" someone you look up to, after all. Or admire someone you claim is stressing you out and a "loose cannon".

He also doesn't Trust Pearl, he constantly challenges her version of events and her expressing how she feels. He claims her memory is selective and that she loves to paint him as the bad guy -- for how concerned he is that people outside of their circle will hurt Pearl for her antagonistic actions, hes awfully dismissive when she tries to voice that He is the one who's hurt her the most. He even challenges Pearls words directly to Pearl, as if expecting her to lie to him.

When Gem asks him to "control" Pearl, he doesn't try to defend her or even apologize but acknowledge Pearls autonomy like he used to in LL. He simply apologises and promises Gem he'll keep her in check. As if that is his responsibility in the first place.

Scott loves Pearl. And I think Scott might think he knows what's best for Pearl. That line where he says they're "family, whether (she) want(s) it or not" I think is a really good insight in terms of how he thinks about her.

She's a misbehaving child to him this season, and he Loves her, so it's his duty to correct her. He can't see how much he hurts her, because what he's doing is the right thing. He's more right about her emotions, her memories than she is. He's keeping her safe. And she'll thank him someday.

I think, on some level, he's convinced himself their LL dynamic was more stressful for him than it actually was, and that giggly, mischiveous version of him who followed Pearl around on her antics wasn't really him. That love he had is still there, just twisted to fit his narrative that has taken over every bit of him. That boogey curse took more than his life I'm telling you man

[paikothecateater]

What kind of unique magic abilities do you think Norway and Iceland both have?

They were both born with some and later acquired some, so I'm gonna break this down.

Norway was born with a few abilities, but they didn't exactly begin manifesting right away and when they did, he was more than capable of controlling them. Iceland's on the other hand immediately kicked in and he had absolutely zero control over them. They were also a lot more dangerous than Norway's, so it was really hard for him to even learn how to properly use them without hurting people.

Norway's powers were more psychological than physiological, so he wasn't really risking hurting anyone by using them.

I've mentioned Norway's ability to project thoughts and mess with people's heads, but I never explained it in detail.

His thought projection is pretty straight forward. He has pretty good control over it and it temporarily... Sort of shuts off the other's ability to think because their thoughts are replaced entirely by Norway's for the moment. This leads onto his ability to mess with people's heads and manipulate them into thinking what he wants them to. It's very seamless. You would not be able to tell he did it. He can make people see things too. He actually uses this to allow Denmark, Finland and Sweden to see his creatures. No, I don't personally believe Sweden can see them on his own.

There's also telekinesis but that takes a whole lot more effort and he has still yet to perfect it. He does use it to trip Denmark.

Now, unfortunately, given that his powers greatly rely on his mental and emotional state, when his control of either of those things is compromised, so is his control of his powers.

For example, say Iceland is missing. This is obviously going to cause him a lot of distress. He's panicking so sometimes things around him will begin to shake violently. The radius of how many things are affected depends on how distressed he is.

When he's shocked or surprised, things can just completely stop. It's not obvious unless someone's holding something and it just refuses to move or if it's raining or snowing and it just... Stops. It doesn't change the physical state though, so it's not like the rain becomes an unmovable solid. You just walk into water.

Iceland's powers are more physical and they're harder to control. Being the land of fire and ice I thought I'd give him some form of powers to reflect that. Fire and ice powers are pretty cliché, but I understand that it's a pretty common headcanon for Iceland's powers.

I wanted to put at least some sort of unique spin on this, but it's near impossible, so I did what I can.

Iceland can change the temperature of his body at will. It's a very wide range, and the switch is near instant. You also would not be able to tell he's doing it unless you're close to him in proximity because it doesn't have any effect in terms of appearance. Norway is particularly fond of this ability because it allows him to use his little brother as a microwave or freezer. Denmark also makes use of this by taking Iceland on his frequent fishing trips. It is a conscious decision that takes effort though, so it's very easy to control.

Iceland also has the standard ability to freeze and ignite things. He had no control over this as a child. Any strong emotions he felt would trigger it. Norway was the one who eventually helped Iceland learn how to deal with it.

This power is much harder to control in general. Even now, Iceland has slip ups. It's heavily influenced by his emotional state. Thankfully the fire responds more to positive emotions like excitement while the ice responds to the negative emotions. Iceland has accidentally lit things on fire before and it's not exactly a great time. It's a huge part of the reason he suppresses his emotions (or tries to) to stop himself from causing problems.

Even if he makes the conscious decision to drop his body temperature extremely low, it won't stop ignition. He's tried, but it doesn't work and it's super painful. He can't freeze and burn something at the same time.

Now that these are out of the way, these two also have traits that while not too magical are still very superhuman.

Iceland has very sensitive hearing. He also has selective hearing, so he can choose to tune out someone who's talking directly to him in favour of listening to what's happening in the next room over. This is also a conscious decision that requires effort.

Norway's intuition is scary good. He can instantly tell when something or someone feels off. Iceland has learned to trust Norway's gut feeling at all times because it has always been accurate.

These are the only two I have on the fly, but there are more.

There are also the powers they share.

They can both breathe just fine underwater. Iceland's vision is actually a little better underwater.

They're both incredibly strong swimmers. This one could fall under the last category, but I'm putting it here. It's not in any way human. They could swim from Norway to Iceland in half a day. They'd be absolutely exhausted no doubt, but it's something they can accomplish.

Here are a few downsides to their natural powers before we get into anything else.

The more worried Norway is about projecting unpleasant thoughts, the more likely it is to happen and it scares the shit out of him. It works a lot like with intrusive thoughts. The more he tries to force it to stop, the more it happens. He has avoided people because of this in the past.

Because of the very volatile nature of Iceland's powers it's very easy for a very devastating cycle to occur. Something bad happens to Iceland, Iceland freezes over everything and is too miserable to unfreeze it which causes him to be even more miserable and so on and so forth until he finally calms down, usually with the help of Norway.

Now, there are powers that they eventually acquired.

Norway has definitely learned more about his magic and is very good with a lot of it. He prefers making magical remedies to spell casting, though he uses both liberally.

Iceland only learns what he needs in the moment. That's how he gave Mr. Puffin the ability to speak human language. He was able to communicate with him before. Mr. Puffin was very interested by Iceland in the start, so he (in a move very reminiscent of meowth from team rocket) learned how to speak through observation, just so he can get Iceland to keep him. It was very broken and it seemed only Iceland could understand what he was trying to communicate, so he eventually gave Mr. Puffin the ability to properly communicate.

When it comes to the magical creatures, Iceland doesn't interact with them all that much. He feels that Norway can get away with being all mysterious and talking to creatures that no one else sees, but he can't. His reasoning? Everyone is already impressed by Norway. Norway is known as this super mystical guy while Iceland would look absolutely crazy.

Iceland doesn't ignore the creatures though. He really respects them and if they were to speak to him directly, he'd respond regardless of who's watching. Specifically Norway's troll has taken a liking to Iceland and watches over him whenever he can.

That's all I can think of at the moment. I can update this later, but that's all for now. Thanks for letting me yap about my children again.

[circular-bircular]

Sup! I’m not a part of the whole be nice to persecutors squad, but I do rehabilitate persecutors sometimes as an ex-persecutor myself and I would like to hear your thoughts on my opinions (genuinely I am open to change. Ik I'm harsh). This is going to be a long one and I’m sorry if I sound dismissive of other feelings it’s more of a how it all feels to me.

This is all persecutor discussion that may be upsetting. Please read with caution or delete from your inbox as you see fit.

So yes of course persecutors should not be treated like monsters they are a part of a system. They are people (or whatever word refers best to one’s conscious collective) and they deserve love and respect like anyone else. So are the people they hurt though. I feel that’s really forgotten in this positivity around the guy that hurts people.

So in my villain era I just chose to be an asshole. I was pissed at the system and wanted to make their lives hell. Letting me front was a mistake I was purposefully off putting around our friends (no they didn’t bloody deserve it I knew what I was doing. I also wasn’t mean I was off putting, to be clear). I wasn’t a confused protector. I wasn’t protecting us. I made the conscious decision and effort to hurt or disturb anything I came into contact with because I was mad. Not all persecutors are like this but my annoyance is at the whole persecutor positivity that includes people like me.

I didn’t change because the system was nice to me. I wouldn’t have changed because someone got me an ice cream or sympathised with me (and they tried) I changed because I happened to be fronting one night and someone was vulnerable in front of us. I’d been nothing but an asshole up until them but I was trusted because in that moment I wanted to change and trusting that I would try I was allowed to. I masked and helped the guy.

That’s not advice btw that’s just, what happened. No one being nice to me or trying to get me to change made me change it was having room for the decision to change that changed me. Getting mad at me for being an ass, making me say sorry for being an ass and treating me like someone who was an ass didn’t stop me from recovery. I whole heartedly believe that you don’t owe all persecutors kindness.

I was reforming a dipshit and I’ve been nothing but kind to her and she was still a dipshit. She understood she was being a dipshit but was fulfilling a role she thought had to be fulfilled and while I slowly undid that the person she was “tasked” with being a dipshit toward was allowed to be angry and upset and hurl insults back. You should be allowed to feel like you’re protecting yourself.

And finally my most controversial statement. System jail is fine. Locking up parts of your system for being assholes isn’t good for them but when you can no longer take the constant abuse or you have too many other problems that’s fine. I don’t understand the weird obsession with being nice to the bully. In my experience that wont stop em and sometimes there is no space to give them room to change all you can do is protect yourself until there is space.

I’m not a persecutor hater. I’m just an internet guy that says the online advice f being nice ignores the people that get hurt. It’s a nuanced and individual situation. Internet advice does not fix that. I am nice when there’s room to be nice and I believe that prosecutors will heal but the shit they fucking did should not be overlooked.

& If any recovering persecutors are reading this. I see you. You’re on a difficult path. You deserve love and respect and to live life.

This wasn't one of the eaten asks, but I've honestly been trying to work out how to respond to this for a long time. I'm gonna try and break this down for myself. And by that I mean, here's Debbie with the weather.

So yes of course persecutors should not be treated like monsters they are a part of a system. They are people (or whatever word refers best to one’s conscious collective) and they deserve love and respect like anyone else. So are the people they hurt though. I feel that’s really forgotten in this positivity around the guy that hurts people.

Absolutely, anon. The people we've hurt need to be rewarded for the shit they've survived from us. I was a complete and absolute bitch, and I apologize for how much of a bitch I was -- but not for the reasons why I was a bitch. I'm not going to apologize for my trauma. For any persecutors reading this, nobody here is asking you to apologize for who you are. We're just saying, acknowledging that you hurt someone is a good place to start.

So in my villain era I just chose to be an asshole. I was pissed at the system and wanted to make their lives hell. Letting me front was a mistake I was purposefully off putting around our friends (no they didn’t bloody deserve it I knew what I was doing. I also wasn’t mean I was off putting, to be clear). I wasn’t a confused protector. I wasn’t protecting us. I made the conscious decision and effort to hurt or disturb anything I came into contact with because I was mad. Not all persecutors are like this but my annoyance is at the whole persecutor positivity that includes people like me.

Anon, take this whatever way you want, but that to me sounds like protecting your system. I purposefully made myself unpleasant to be around. I fucked with my friends and purposefully pissed them off, not "to protect us UwU" but because they were fucking stupid to be friends with these idiots. The other fuckers in my head were weak, pathetic, and pointless. I pretended to be other parts, just to pull the rug out from under my friends, because god was it easy to, and it was absolutely hilarious to see their reactions. I tortured my other parts innerworld, because god was it fun to make them realize just how pathetic they were, just how much better I was than them. My goal was to get the other parts to kill themselves (what I understood as dormancy after some time) and let me just take charge, because I wanted to live.

And yeah. That's me protecting my system.

Because the more I bashed us, the more I said, "let me take over because I'm better than you," the more I pushed away all my friends... It was the more I "kept us safe" from getting hurt from the outside. Rice won't be hurt if she doesn't exist. Rice won't break down from trauma memories if fill her brain with trauma memories 24/7. Rice won't lose her friends and break down if she has no friends to begin with.

I didn't do that on purpose, of course. I didn't look to help these assholes. I wanted them GONE. But now that I'm reformed, now that I can look back at what a mess I actually was, instead of the perfect being I thought I was, I can understand that all of that was my misguided way of protecting us. Even if I didn't understand that at the time.

I made that conscious decision to hurt, and it was influenced by the unconscious decision to protect.

Now, maybe you really were just a pissy lil bitch who wanted to hurt people, whatever, I really couldn't care less about you. But at the end of the day, alters in DID systems split for a reason -- to cope with trauma and make it bearable to survive through. So regardless of what edgy pre-teen bullshit you're spouting, if you're an alter, you're a form of protector in some way. At least in my eyes.

I didn’t change because the system was nice to me. I wouldn’t have changed because someone got me an ice cream or sympathised with me (and they tried) I changed because I happened to be fronting one night and someone was vulnerable in front of us. I’d been nothing but an asshole up until them but I was trusted because in that moment I wanted to change and trusting that I would try I was allowed to. I masked and helped the guy.

Cool! Glad you worked your shit out. I started getting better because someone was really fucking mean to me. I mean, I had food poisoning, was running out of the room to vomit, and my friend still sat me down for like a 2 hour or so lecture about how I was a fucking awful person and she wouldn't stop lecturing me until I shaped the fuck up and understood why she thought I was bad. That fucking BROKE me.

Being nice to your persecutor is one way. Torturing them after fucking cafeteria mozzarella stick induced food poisoning is another. To each their own, y'know? (Side note, I know you don't follow me here bby but I love you, thank you for slapping the shit out of past me with your words and anger <3)

That’s not advice btw that’s just, what happened. No one being nice to me or trying to get me to change made me change it was having room for the decision to change that changed me. Getting mad at me for being an ass, making me say sorry for being an ass and treating me like someone who was an ass didn’t stop me from recovery. I whole heartedly believe that you don’t owe all persecutors kindness.

I wholeheartedly believe nobody is owed kindness. Kindness is a choice I make -- one that can easily be decided against if it is no longer beneficial to be kind. I owe no loyalty to kindness. I choose to be kind, because why the fuck wouldn't I be, you fucking idiot?

I was reforming a dipshit and I’ve been nothing but kind to her and she was still a dipshit. She understood she was being a dipshit but was fulfilling a role she thought had to be fulfilled and while I slowly undid that the person she was “tasked” with being a dipshit toward was allowed to be angry and upset and hurl insults back. You should be allowed to feel like you’re protecting yourself.

Ok but that was a kind thing to do. Like. That's what I mean when I say to be kind to your persecutors. Letting them BE ANGRY IS A GOOD THING???? So confused why this isn't seen as being kind. You took the time out of your fucking schedule to help give that person a space to be upset and angry. That's kindness. That was a choice.

And finally my most controversial statement. System jail is fine. Locking up parts of your system for being assholes isn’t good for them but when you can no longer take the constant abuse or you have too many other problems that’s fine. I don’t understand the weird obsession with being nice to the bully. In my experience that wont stop em and sometimes there is no space to give them room to change all you can do is protect yourself until there is space.

God you're so fucking hilarious tbh.

Yeah, sure, whatever, system jail is fine, esp in cases like. Where you're still in an abusive situation. That's because you're allowed to make mistakes, and system jail is a mistake. It's perfectly valid and fine while also being really fucking awful and stupid.

The "weird obsession" with being nice to the bully isn't "it will stop them." It's "that's an entire ass part of yourself, stop fucking airing your self-hatred out in public for everyone to see, it's nauseating."

TL;DR: Being kind to your persecutors is a choice. Obviously, it's not one you HAVE to make, but it's highly suggested. The issue is, "kindness" looks different for everyone. For me, it was "kind" to have someone do the equivalent of a guttural scream for 2 hours. For others, it's fru-fru shit that makes them feel all warm and fuzzy. For you, it was just giving someone the time and space to be angry. Making mistakes is okay. Do what you want forever and who even gives a shit? And FFS, OBVIOUSLY, LET'S NOT IGNORE THE VICTIMS OF OUR ABUSE. (But yknow, let's not ignore the fact that persecutors are also victims of abuse and they get blamed for literally every fucking thing jfc).

[intheholler]

Howdy! I absolutely love this blog and am so glad I found it <3 Do you have any advice for reclaiming (for lack of a better word) your accent? Mine is all weird from years of codeswitching/trying to hide it, and now that I'm older and have more pride in where I come from, I miss that I don't sound exactly like all the other people from my area. Thank you!!

hi there <33 im glad yall found it too lol. welcome!

also sure! i was (am?) in the exact same boat :') so i guess i could try to tell you what's worked for me.

my first advice would be to try and stop being so critical about what you're saying and how you sound when you say it. easier said than done, ik, because obviously when you code switch, you are very aware of and careful about how you talk, but that's the very first massive block i had to work on before anything else.

so, the first thing i did was work on detaching myself from that need and not policing myself as i spoke. i tried to just let the sounds come out, especially my vowels. i always kept those real tight bc i felt like they're the biggest "tell" i wanted to avoid.

i achieved this by talking to myself in private to shake off that internalized shit that made me wanna disguise it around others in the first place. no one can hear you but you, so just yourself have it, even if u feel silly at first like i did. i dealt with some imposter syndrome-esque stuff about it during this time.

its gonna sound goofy, but for a while, to get ur mouth back in the habit of making certain shapes during certain words, start talking to yourself in an exaggerated form of ur original accent. like fully put it on lmao. maybe even heavier than the one you used to have. this helped my brain get reaquainted with my mouth.

then i started just actively listening to myself think and talk. there is the comfortable and familiar way my brain wants the words to be formed in my natural dialect, and then there is my mouth that stops it out of codeswitching habit. it took active work and effort to make my accent go away, and it's taking active work and effort to make it come back.

anyway, a lot of my pronunciations i no longer have to "actively hear" myself give, so i know it's working <3

sometimes i'll even say something, pause and mentally be like "goddamn, what the fuck was that that just came out my mouth" and then im like "oh right, that's me 🥰 hello again, me"

im glad you're ready to start reclaiming this part of yourself and i wish you good luck. it's surprisingly hard! i started making a conscious effort three or four years ago and mine is still not as strong as i'd like.

[streamdotpng]

You're right, let's talk about Wenclair.

We already talked about a knowingly manipulative Enid, who would cause no harm, she just wants the people she loves safe. If she has to plan ahead, it's just that : planning ahead. And she's been doing that a lot since Wednesday came to Nevermore. So much that it nags to her longtime friends. But as it isn't out of character of her it's just that, nagging.

A remark here, a comment there "You're quite interested in the new goth resident aren't you ?" Well, it's normal, she's so emotionally stunted Enid just HAS to be with her, we wouldn't want a lawsuit for murder. And last time she was left alone, she nearly died twice. Enid just cannot have that again. You understand.

Sugary sweet smiles, with a hint of venom, dripping in sarcasm and thinly veiled threats. She knows how the teenage crowd works and she learned how to steer it the way she wants. Being in a ton of club has it's perks. She's patient and she listens. She waits. She likes to talks but thanks to Wednesday, she learned that sometimes, silence is the best way to get what you want.

Ineluctably, she comes back to Wednesday. Like a crow bringing back some shiny trinkets, or a wolf bringing back game after a hunt to it's partner.

"Did you know that Laena, the siren from Biology got with Bran ?"

"Humhum."

She knows that Wednesday deems you worthy of her attention if you either prove yourself useful to her, or you strike the rare tender chord within her tortured and shriveled soul. And Enid knows that she ticks off both of those boxes. She knows Wednesday is listening to her drivel, because Enid wouldn't dare come to her with useless information. Not with the ill hidden smirk she sports right now.

"Do you know what they discovered while frolicking ? The supposedly absent Ms Barthin going into one well hidden room. I didn't know we had more of those... What would a chemistry teacher do in here ?"

"That's interesting, you're right" By then, Wednesday still hasn't stopped reading her book. But she is answering her. Enid knows that she is making conscious efforts in her relationship with her to avoid another fiasco such as last semester.

"Yeah... That's weird, didn't you say last week that you didn't find any propane for your bomb project ? We should be packed with it. For heaters or whatever..."

Wednesday tenses. Hook line and sinker. She looks so beautiful when she catches the smell of blood. Be it metaphorically or not. The dark and fascinating beauty of a predator on the prowl. Enid would know about it. She used to be squeamish about that, but now, she understands that you have to sometimes take actions for things to go the way you them want to. She smiles. She knows how it will go, but the most important is that she will be part of it. It's the best way to protect Willa.

She learned rather early to pick her battles. What, with her family where nothing is good enough, you have to. But it's different with Willa. It tastes sweeter, the way her eyes narrows when they haggle over what they have to do and then soften when they reach a compromise. The glint of pride when she looks at Enid. And if she knows that Enid would have let her go outside at night without accepting coming to lunch with her for the next two days, she doesn't show it.

The others wouldn't understand the nuances and the layers of the character who is Wednesday Addams. And Enid prides herself in saying that she understands most of her language. And that's why she must stay with her. Someone already took the trust Willa so begrudgingly offered and look how it ended up. No, she must remain near. She will let Wednesday make her decisions, but that does not mean she will stay impassive to what's going on around her. Willa can get so obsessed, in her little bubble, not paying attention until the last moment. Enid will be here to help, to watch over her and every angle where an attack could come from.

(I'm sorry lmao, I lost it. Sorry if it's not well written or anything, brain just went brrrr and I just spouted all of that.)

NOO LOST DON'T WORRY

Brain going BRRR with random ass thoughts like these always help

Anyways, let's tip in a lil obsession(?) possessiveness? Just the want of Wednesday's attention I suppose

I do love the idea that while Enid is smart she isn't exactly the kind of plan ahead like batman kind of smart

Where she has a plan with specific tools and measurements. The kind of plan ahead with materials and specific probabilities

No, Enid is very very resourceful instead and quite socially aware

"you're interested in our resident goth, huh?" someone might call out and instead of fumbling like some newborn fawn, Enid shrugs

There's a knowing smile as she teases them, "why? You jealous?"

Deflect is a skill Enid has long since gotten used too. When you have a family that prods and pokes for an answer you cannot give, most either give the truth or nothing at all but enid can't do that; so she deflects.

It's cute at times, how Wednesday gets so hyperfocused on the little things, so busy in her own world

It feels like a drug to be able to get her to look up from that space, to have those eyes tears from pages and look at Enid.

Wednesday doesn't praise her but she doesn't need too. It's the tiny things: like how she's relying on the blond werewolf with closing up the dorm instead of doing so herself or the way her eyes pause from reading a page to fully listen

It's so tiny but it has Enid absolutely honored because she sees and she knows that she doesn't do it to anybody else

It's their little thing.

[concerningwolves]

I've been doing a lot of voice recording and speech practise today, and it's really got me thinking about what it actually means to have a speech impediment.

So, because of my russel-silver syndrome, my jaw isn't quite shaped right. I've had a lot of overcrowding with my teeth and although that's been fixed now, I still can't always get my mouth into the right shapes to make sounds. My "r" goes soft and my "w" sounds like an r, for example; I also get too much saliva going on when I speak and I'm often in danger of biting my tongue, which makes my s and sh sounds go slushy. (Incidentally, "slushy" is a nightmare word to say).

But the thing is, people who know me often say that they don't notice my speech impediment. I don't know if this is because they think they're being kind, or if they've just gotten used to it so they can parse my speech automatically, or some combination thereof. I've had people tell me that I sound "wonderfully clear for a deaf person", that my voice is "cute", and that "oh, your speech impediment is actually mild. I barely notice it!".

Lately, I've begun to consider that speech impediments aren't thought of as something someone has. They're thought of as something that other people experience. People tell me that mine is mild because they barely notice it, but you know what? I notice! I notice all the time! And I don't mean this in a self-conscious way, either (although I have certainly been self-conscious for a long time). What I mean when I say that I notice my speech impediment is, it's always there, constantly, when I speak. I can never stop thinking about it. Every time I have a conversation, I have to consider how I'm shaping words and whether I'm speaking clearly enough to be understood. It is exhausting. When I listen back to my own voice, I can really hear where I've started to get tired from speaking as the quality of my pronunciation goes way downhill. Sometimes, I reach a point where I'm so tired from the mental effort that I just. stop speaking. I simply can't do it anymore. I've had to scrap several recordings because this happened.

So.. doesn't this count as a speech disability, then? Because it is something that disables me. It hinders my speech! It wears me out! And no amount of being told that "it's actually not at all noticeable :)" is ever going to change that.

[womaninwinter]

Writing vs Visual Art

Prompts from @insidethekaleidoscope: if you both write and make visual art, how would you compare the experiences?

Have you always done both or is one a more recent hobby?

I've always been doodler and a storyteller, but it's only recently that I started thinking of them as Art. When I was a kid, I thought I was going to be a writer. When I was a teen, I thought I was going to be an artist. And now I'm writing again.

2. Do you prefer one over the other? Why?

I am a better (more practiced) writer than artist, so I am generally happier with the results of my writing than my drawing/painting. At the moment I'm on a writing kick, but there was definitely a long period where I preferred visual art, and I think this also had to do with the online spaces I was hanging out in. When I'm in fandom spaces, the primary way I can contribute is writing, so I tend to do that. When I was not into fandoms, and was just more generally into Insta art communities, I was seeing a lot of art, so I was doing a lot of art.

3. Are you drawn to the same themes in both?

Hm. Now, I never thought of myself as having Themes in my visual art, again because I'm not that good at it and thus I don't have a great deal of control. However, there are definite stylistic commonalities. My thought process tends towards gothic/intricate/exaggerated/intense and both my art and my writing have those characteristics.

4. Do you see them as connected practices?

This is funny. I've never thought about them as connected, mostly because I only seem to have the time/energy to do one creative hobby at a time. The times when I produce a lot of art are the times when my writing is fallow and vice versa. That said, I think that producing visual art sometimes helps unstick me in my writing, but then again, so does writing longhand on paper, so possibly it's just easier to be creative when I'm not taking psychic damage from the screen.

5. Do you feel more confident in one than the other?

As is probably obvious from my answers so far, I'm much more confident in writing than drawing/painting, but this is mostly because I've had more practice and training in writing. I've had almost no formal art lessons (until a couple of years ago when I did a life-painting class, which did actually rule), but writing was part of my education all the way up, and then it became part of my job, as a translator. Wish I had more time to practice/learn art, but alas, the brain worms are dead set on writing right now.

6. Do you do both at once or do you have periods of time where you only write or only make art?

Also mostly already answered. I can do both, if I really make a conscious effort to build it in, but it takes a lot of discipline and I don't have much of that. I really wish I had the brain space to do both, because I love painting and I miss it. But I do still make art in that I doodle constantly - all my notebooks have little scribbles in the margins, of castles and funny little people and flowers. My work diary is stuffed full of little scraps of paper like this.

7. Does one come easier than the other?

I would be tempted to say writing, but it really depends on what type of art or writing I'm doing. I doodle without thinking or even meaning to. If I have a pen and paper, the difficulty is stopping my hand from drawing. But a big writing project (like a chapter of a fic for example) comes more easily to me than an artistic project.

8. Do you feel more invested in one than the other?

This also varies over time and I think is hugely influenced by what I'm getting more feedback about/what forms part of my social life. At present, my social circle really revolves around writing to a great extent, so I'm super invested in that. But up until very recently, my answer would have been 100% the other way around. I have a drawer full of sketchbooks that I was so so painfully proud of.

9. Does one medium feel more true to you or representative of who you are as a person?

I don't think so, although I think I do tend to be more surprised to see myself coming out in my art. I'm often very conscious of what I'm doing in my writing, and I'm usually aware of a lot of what I'm revealing about myself in it. Because I'm less in control of my art, it's always a surprise to see how specific it is to me, that unbeknownst to myself, I was drawing an experience that I was having.

10. Do you decorate your house with your art and do you reread your writing?

I was going to say 'no' to decorating my house and then I looked up to the right at the massive portrait from my life-painting class stuck up on my wall and rethought that answer. So yes to the art, but not a whole lot. I do tend to reread my writing until I'm sick of it. And then I leave it a few months and come back reread it and think "oh hell ya, this girl knows my tastes exactly." (Actually, maybe this is why I'm less happy to decorate with my art. I'm not really good enough to cater to my own tastes there.)

11. What do you find the experiences have in common?

Flow state I think. It's been a long time since I reached it for either medium (creativity's always in bits and snatches with me, because that's generally all I have time for. It's easier for me to write 100 words though then it is to do a 10-minute sketch.) but the sensation of being totally absorbed, of not noticing time passing, and the burning pride and joy when you produce something good is the same in both cases.

All done! Thank you Mo for this very interesting and much needed exercise in self-reflection. I think I'll draw something now!

[organised-disaster]

Here you go @randosfandos and @baxieblur-turnip since you wanted it so much I'm ENSURING you see it the second you check your notifs

SNOWBIRD: CHAPTER II

I shower, scrubbing my sweaty body. The breeze from the roof of the Justice Building air-dried me slightly, but it feels nice to finally be showering. My hair isn't especially dirty, and it's irritating trying to dry it, so I make a conscious effort to keep it away from the water. The soap smell is soothing. I can't quite place it.

I scrub my face. I get soap in my eyes. I no longer feel happy about the soap. I wash the soap off of me and out of my eyes as I think about today. It's the day of the Reaping, meaning I need to be prepared, just like every year, to potentially be sent to die.

Or watch someone I care about get sent to die... Yumi would tell me that she loves me in a situation like this. She did every year before she passed away.

Yumi. My older sister. Never did well as a Career. Yumi was gentle, empathetic. A bleeding heart, even. She couldn't bear to hurt anyone. If someone hit her, she'd ask them why instead of hitting back.

I step out of the shower, wrapping my towel around my torso. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Yumi and I didn't look similar to each other. Yumi's nose was softer and rounder, her eyes kinder. Yumi's hair was a dusty black, much lighter than my charred colour. Yumi was cheerful and radiated warmth and welcoming.

I can't stop seeing her instead of me when I look in a mirror, though. I knew Yumi's face as well as I know Sera's. I know that while her eyes were warmer, they were still as narrow and catlike as mine are. They still looked just as harsh in the wrong lighting.

I know that while Yumi's default expression was a soft smile, her anger still looked the same as mine. Anger was so rare, so jarring, that I couldn't help but memorise it.

I know that while I rarely smile at anyone but Sera, Yumi had dimples and creases identical to mine. I can't stand to smile at my reflection anymore. It's impossible not to see Yumi.

Sometimes I wonder if Sera sees Yumi in my smile as well. I wonder if she loves her exactly the same as I do. I wonder if she blames me exactly the same as I do.

I wonder if Sera sees Yumi in her own smile also. Yumi's narrow face didn't especially resemble Sera's, but Sera's eyes and Yumi's were similar browns, although Sera's eyes practically glow from the inside. Sera's smile has the same comforting quality as Yumi's.

Yumi was just as good with people as Sera, just as patient as Sera. Just as kind. Just as sweet. Just as trusting.

I wanted to be like her when I was younger. I know now that Yumi's thinking never did anything good for her. She needed to be vicious. Capable of taking a life. She wasn't, not when it mattered most.

I'll give her that. Yumi passed on her own terms. Yumi knew what she wanted. Yumi stuck with it. With her love for humanity. She's braver than me in that sense.

She was so much like Sera, it's almost like they're the same person. Perhaps that was the reason I got so close with Sera after Yumi died.

Or maybe the reason was because Sera loved Yumi, too, and felt her loss as much as I did.

There's a lump in my throat. My vision blurs slightly. I wipe my eyes, clearing my throat. I splash cold water on my face. Today, of all days, is a bad time to think of Yumi.

I violently scrub my face again, this time with my towel to dry it. I look up into the mirror by accident. My fringe is completely soaked. My eyes are reddened. There's a brief flash of Yumi's face across my vision, angry and full of hate.

It's gone as quick as it arrived. I hurriedly turn away from the mirror. I dry myself, keeping the mirror behind me the whole time.

After I'm no longer sticky, I pick up my clothes from the floor and start to get changed. A nice button-up and trousers. The shirt is grey, and the trousers are white, both slightly worn as they originally belonged to... I glance at the mirror again.

Yumi glares at me. She sniffs and wipes her nose as she finishes putting the clothes she wore on the day of the Reaping on. I leave the bathroom, and my sister, behind.

Sera is sitting on my bed, toying with her hands anxiously. Her eyes are trained on my clock, watching every second quietly thunk by. The sound of the clock is almost muffled by her uneven breathing and the occasional thump of her heel when her bouncing leg makes contact with the floor.

She smiles up at me when she notices me in the doorway, stopping her jittering. Her hands continue to shake slightly, as does her leg. Her eyes dart to what I'm wearing, then back up to my face again.

Her smile vanishes, if only for a moment. It's back so quickly, it's almost like she didn't react at all. She remembers, then. Well, how could she have forgotten?

Yumi was just as much Sera's sister as she was mine. If Sera wasn't at my house to talk to me, she was here to talk to Yumi. If Yumi was out, chances were that she'd be doing something with Sera.

Sera screamed louder than I did. Sera's grief was known. Sera gained sympathy.

Such an apathetic child...

No reaction whatsoever..?

Her sister...

How awful...

A monster, that's for sure...

I block out the whispers of District Four as I sit down next to Sera. As she always does when we are close like this, she leans into me. I put my arm around her and let her rest her head in the crook of my neck. She sighs deeply, her breathing calming down.

I know how deeply Sera craves the comfort of touch. I have always been averse. In general, if someone is making contact with my skin, it's because they're trying to hit me until I don't get back up.

But I also know how good it feels to be near to Sera. For our hands to be locked together, for our shoulders to be touching, for her breath to be on my neck.

Sera is gently gripping the hand attached to the arm I'm holding her with. She carefully traces lines along my palm with her thumbs, following the creases. Sera likes repetitive things like that.

There are a million things I could say to Sera. But just like every year, I don't need to say any of them. Now is not a time for words. Words come later. Words come after. And some words come never.

Words used to express relief. Words used to state gratitude. It's considered awful luck to say things like that. Especially when the people selected only have a one-in-twenty-four chance of coming home.

No matter what, there'll always be at least one grieving family. Sera's family has always been so lucky. Seth, Sera's brother, is only about a year older than I am. He's too old for the Reaping now. He's never been pulled.

Sera hasn't been pulled before, either. I hope she stays that way. I don't know what I'd do if she didn't. I've never thought about it, either. If I think about something like that, it starts getting hard to breathe.

I can't really think about it. My thoughts just won't go there, and if I force them to, they don't stay for long. I don't like it. I stay away from things like that. They belong at the very back of my mind with everything else.

I don't have to worry about that. Sera won't be pulled. I won't be pulled again. We're going to be okay.

Sera's switched from massaging my palm to fiddling with the hem of Yumi's shirt. She's started her gnawing of her lower lip, the already damaged skin bleeding slightly.

Her eyes flick to my clock again. I once again hear her breathing grow uneven as some degree of panic sets in. I squeeze her a little tighter, pull her a little closer.

Sera tears her eyes from the clock. Sera has a death grip on Yumi's shirt. I gently pry her fingers off, squeezing her hand when Yumi's shirt is free. Sera's tenderising of her lip ceases. Sera sighs and surrenders as we fall over together on my bed.

Sera adjusts herself to be resting her head on my chest, her feet hanging off the edge of my bed. Sera only ever wears one pair of shoes. A clunky pair of worn leather boots that fall off her feet at every possible occasion. They slide off, one actually hitting the floor while the other clings for dear life onto her ankle.

I hope my heartbeat doesn't speed up too much. It'll probably make Sera's head bounce if it does. I let my head fall back onto my pillow, my neck already hurting from my observation of Sera's boots.

Sera starts to toy with my hair, running it through her hands. She's always loved to compliment how shiny it is, how smooth I keep it. She always goes on to say how she wished she could have her hair as tidy and clean and nice-to-the-touch as mine.

I never said anything to her. Perhaps I should have. I would have liked to tell her that her tousled mess was charming. That it framed her face. That it brought out her smile.

I would not have liked to tell her that it made her look like Yumi, who wore her unkempt, unruly disaster in almost the exact same way. I don't think Sera remembers, but her hair was kept neat once, too.

Back when Yumi was still alive and Sera's mother was still around. Sera saw her family a lot more when she was younger, her brother not yet graduated, and her father not totally responsible for their income.

She had to brush her hair every couple of hours and apply some sort of gel to it, but it stayed in place. The kind of cutesy style that made little girls an object of affection for all the little boys.

She was maybe around seven when she properly met Yumi. She had come over to my house and accidentally walked into Yumi's room, briefly forgetting which was mine.

Yumi was fourteen at the time. She had been so sweet with Sera. By the time I realised that Sera had gotten lost somewhere, she was already playing some sort of complex game that involved knots with Yumi.

I tried to join. I wasn't good with knots then. I'm better now, but I still struggle with complicated ones. Sera has always been so talented with her hands. She's always had such nimble fingers.

I finally tied a knot. Yumi couldn't untie it. Neither of our parents could untie it. Sera couldn't untie it. That memory has resulted in this sweet mental image. Of Yumi sitting on the floor of her room, her little sisters next to her, puzzling over a knot tied by the least competent one.

That mutual lack of understanding for how I created such a thing was a building block for their relationship. I don't quite remember what became of the knot. I believe I gave it to Sera.

Sera has always admired Yumi. Sera saw the way Yumi wore her hair and decided it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. She mimicked Yumi in other, smaller ways that she still does to this day.

A little flick of the hand here, a tonal shift there. Sera saw how Yumi played with her hair when nervous and started doing it herself. She does it automatically now, pinching and rolling her blonde locks between her thumb and forefinger.

I absently run my hands through Sera's curls. My fingers snag on knots, and I hear Sera wince as I work them out. I groan.

"Sera, did you brush your hair this morning?"

Sera doesn't respond. She's pretending to be asleep. I know from experience that Sera takes at least ten minutes to fall asleep; it hasn't even been three. I sit up, Sera sliding down my chest, then sitting up as well.

Sera won't meet my eyes. I sigh and rub her face.

"You need to take care of yourself, Sera," I say, disappointed but not surprised. Sera tends to neglect things like this. Only small things, and she doesn't really resist, but she doesn't do them if she's not prompted.

Brushing her hair is a bad one. She almost never does it. I have to do it for her most of the time. Once, I didn't see her for four days because of an especially busy week for both of us.

It took me ten minutes to clean the accumulated grime off of her body and at least an hour to work the knots out of her hair. I scolded her the entire time for her forgetfulness. I wasn't surprised that her family didn't remind her, considering that her father and Seth were out fishing for a good three days. I assume Sera avoided them on day four.

"I know, Rumes. I'm sorry," she mumbles. "It's just... I didn't have the time this morning." Sera's excuse is flimsy. I stand up and walk over to my dresser, locating my hairbrush. I walk back over to my bed and sit down. Sera obediently turns to show me the back of her head.

I start to slowly run the brush through her tangled mop.

"I think we both know that isn't true, Sera." I'm not trying to be accusing. But I'm not trying to be nice.

Sera winces, both at the fact that I've caught her and because of the knot the brush has just caught on. It rips out a little of her hair as I work it through.

"I... It's..." Sera sighs. "It's a little hard, you get it?"

I don't. I really don't get it. Self-care has never given me any trouble, but I don't dare mention this to Sera. Telling Sera she's strange for not washing her face won't help her. Reminding her that she needs to do it will.

I've never been completely certain if her poor care of herself was because of her faulty memory or something else. I'd love to blame it on her memory, but Sera's general... erraticness is probably to blame.

She'll start tasks and forget about them entirely, she'll lose track of time, she'll forget to drink water... It's not really a surprise that she forgets important things anymore. She remembers to eat, at least. That removes some level of worry I have for her.

"Yes," I lie. This seems to reassure Sera. A part of her hair bounces back into shape as I finish pulling the brush through. I start again at my next chosen section, running my hands through what I've brushed. For a long time, there is no sound but our breathing and the soft, gentle noise of the brush through Sera's hair.

"You remembered to wash it. That's good," I say aloud, recalling its pleasant smell and softness when I hugged her earlier. I should have praised her then.

"Thank you," says Sera, a little uncertain. I regret speaking almost immediately.

Sera sighs and fidgets. Her other boot fell off at some point.

"You look like her, you know," she says quietly. I force the brush so hard through her hair it slightly yanks her head back. It was an accident. I hope.

"Sorry." There's a long silence.

"You really do, though. You look like Yumi," Sera finishes.

"Can we not talk about this, Sera?" I ask. Sera huffs.

"You can't just pretend she doesn't exist because she isn't around anymore," says Sera, more certain this time.

"I'm not," I respond levelly.

"Then w-w-why do you keep acting like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you never cared." I yank the brush suspended in Sera's hair.

"Hey, look at that. It's stuck," I say, letting go of it. It remains in Sera's hair. She reaches around to the back of her head and pulls it free, handing it back to me.

"Stop doing that, Rumi," she says, sounding like she's dealing with a small child.

"Doing what?" I ask, starting to brush Sera's hair again. Sera sighs.

"You know exactly w-w-what I'm talking about, Rumes. Don't change subjects to avoid things," she says. I don't avoid things. I'm not avoiding anything.

I voice this. Sera sighs again.

"You do, though, Rumes. You are. It's okay if you miss her. I do, too," says Sera. I finish brushing her hair and throw my hairbrush at my back wall. It thunks onto my dresser again.

"Can we just not, Sera?" Sera turns around to face me.

"I think w-w-we should, though," she says. I don't want to listen to her anymore. "I think w-w-we need to talk about her."

"We don't. There's nothing more we could say," I mutter.

"Rumi, you get so... distant. Around this time of year, you just avoid talking about her entirely."

"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want to talk about a dead woman?" I snap.

"Yeah. Lots," Sera responds softly. "But you talk about her." I stiffen.

"You like to mention her from time to time, anyw-w-way," says Sera. "You joke about how Yumi w-w-would do this, Yumi w-w-would like that, blah blah blah."

I turn away from Sera, no longer enjoying this conversation.

"Rumes, you talk about her like she's just... aw-w-way," says Sera thoughtfully. "And I think that's good, I do, because -"

"Stop." Sera sighs softly.

"Rumes, can w-w-we just talk -"

"Stop."

"Rumi, it's not healthy to bottle these things up. If you don't w-w-want to talk now, that's fine, but -"

"I don't want to talk about it at all," I interject. "I don't need to, I don't want to, I won't. It's that simple." Sera needs to drop it. I'm fine. I'm acting normal. I always behave like this.

"She died for a good reason, okay? And I think w-w-we -"

"A good reason? You think it was good?" I interrupt. Sera looks startled.

"Rumes, that's not w-w-what I -"

"Oh? It's not w-w-w-w-what you m-m-m-eant?!" I shout, imitating her stammer.

"Rumi..." Sera's definitely upset. I've crossed a line. I don't care. Maybe she deserves it, just this once.

"Why don't we all just celebrate, huh?! 'Cause Yumi's dead! That's GREAT!"

"Rumi, just stop..." Sera mumbles.

"Sorry, you'll have to speak up! I can't hear you under all those extra letters!" I find the wound and tear it open.

"Rumi, w-w-w-why are you -"

"Oh, get to the point! How hard is it to talk?!" Sera flinches. She pinches the crooked part of her nose. She always does that when she gets self-conscious.

"Rumi, please just calm down," says Sera, voice gaining a pleading quality. I ignore this.

"Calm down?! You want me to calm down?!"

Sera's eyes start to water.

"Oh, don't you start crying AGAIN! You're so bloody emotional all the time!"

"You don't even have emotions!" she snaps back. Sera gets up off my bed.

"Maybe the reason you act like you don't care is because you really don't!" My sheets are pulled taught as I clench my hands. Sera angrily kicks her foot into one of her boots, looking for the other one. "Maybe you didn't cry at her funeral because you didn't love her!"

"Of course I loved her! She was my sister!" I shout, following Sera as I kick her boot from my bed into my wall. She snatches it off the floor and slams her foot into it.

"She w-w-was my sister, too!" Sera shoots back.

"No! No, she wasn't! Yumi was never your sister! No matter how close you think you were, you were never her sister!"

That's hurt her. She stops for a moment, tears threatening to start rolling down her cheeks.

"I loved her. Doesn't that mean something?" For just a moment, I feel a sliver of regret. It vanishes.

"Doesn't mean anything. You never meant anything to her," I snarl. This is untrue. Yumi did truly care about Sera. But now I just want to hurt her. Sera mumbles something.

"Huh? Speak up!" I demand. "You wanna say something? Say it to my face!"

"At least I'm not the reason she's dead," she says. There's utter silence.

"What?" Sera is completely crying now.

"At least," she repeats. "I'm not," she continues. "The reason she's dead."

"So you're saying it's my fault, then?"

Silence.

"N- no, I... No, I'm sorry. I got angry."

"No, I get it."

"Rumes, please, I didn't mean it. It w-w-wasn't your fault."

"It was, though. It's my fault. And it's always going to be my fault."

"It's not! I got angry! I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I've never been that angry before. I'm sorry. If it's any-w-w-one's fault, it's mine. I could've -"

"Just stop, Sera."

"Rumes..."

"You can go now, Sera."

"But -"

"You can go now, Sera. Go home. Say hi to Seth for me."

Sera nods. She tries to hug me. I gently push her away.

"I'm sorry, Rumes."

"So am I." Sera opens the door.

Sera hesitates, standing in the doorway.

"Yumi w-w-would have said you look nice."

The door closes.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

hi Ocelot

first of all, re: healers ...yeah

second,

if you have a particular trope(s) that pop up in all your stories, do you make a conscious effort to make sure you're writing it differently every time, or do you let it become its own version as you go, or do you not really care because you love this trope and you'll just have it the same way every time? (this is of particular interest to me)

I think I'm generally pretty happy to write slight variations on a theme. I'll reuse character archetypes wherever they're helpful (for example, I went through a real phase of writing femme fatales who were all cut from the same cloth), and often split two or three short stories out of the same idea by taking the premise in slightly different ways. If I come up with an idea I want to explore, I make sure that I fully explore it.

If a trope still interests me, I'll continue to use it in different settings until I'm satisfied I've seen it from every angle. I wouldn't want to do it exactly the same, but I'm not too worried about a bit of overlap. I wouldn't want to write the same thing over and over again, but I do return to certain wells. For example, I really like trying out different genres (I've just finished a contemporary crime novel after starting out in epic fantasy, and am now working on a historical horror and a YA dystopia), but you'll see my short stories return to the familiar ground of fantasy subversions, sci-fi ideas and mini detective stories.

As another example in terms of characterisation, the main character in the novel I finished this year was this wet and miserable man who used humour to cover up his grief - completely unlike any of my previous fantasy protagonists, and therefore quite interesting for me to write. But I've now been asked to collaborate on a novel where I will narrative one of the POV characters, and he's effectively the same guy, to the extent where sometimes I have to remind myself to use the right name.

I'm feeling a little typecast, but I don't really mind, because I'm still exploring the possibilities of the role - I had more to say on the subject, and I'm still enjoying saying it. I'd stop if I ever felt I was repeating myself, and maybe a third of these guys would be too much, but I haven't yet reached that point. So no, I wouldn't be afraid to include similar tropes again and again in different settings, as long as I still felt that there was a new story to tell around them. Every story is unique, even if only in the way that you tell it.

[desultory-novice]

Have you ever just looked at a unimportant character no one cares about, and you just go

“They could have so much depth”

- the necrodeus anon

...I've been passively trying to come up with a compelling backstory for Brobo of all characters so yeah, I do...

Jokes aside (though I was being serious about Brobo!) I sympathize, Necrodeus fan! Some people might notice that I don't ever seem to draw the Dream Team as a whole? Or even all that much indidivually.

It's not because I don't love them. In contrast, I love them all sooooo much! But I also know that as a fan-artist (1) I don't NEED to do anything for them. They're so important to the, err, "brand" that I'm going to get my daily dosage of Kirby and others being cute by checking Twitter for merch announcements!

King Dedede, who is not as well loved by merch as the other three, gets a lot of fan-made content exploring his backstory, relationships, traumas etc, so I'm feasting on his majesty that way! (...I-is that phrasing too weird?)

--

It might seem weird to position myself like I'm some champion of giving minor characters depth when I draw a lot of Magolor and Marx, characters who are also showered in love and attention. But as much as I love jester boy, I know that for a variety of reasons, Marx is still in the exact same tier of cameo character as Daroach is, regardless of the difference in merch-love and fan content for the two. Neither of them are going to top the list for "characters to make important in the next Kirby game." That's just facts.

That's why, instead of producing a whole bunch of Meta Knight content, even though I do have ideas for him, I lean towards characters who were important once and are likely never to be important again. (The exception is Magolor, who has been made so important lately, he's likely to stay a reoccurring character. My excuse there is just that I'm biased. (2) Though even I start to feel his spread too much lately? He's trended on JP Twitter twice this last month and I don't even think it was for anything special.)

I LOVE Elfy but I didn't have much for them in the wake of FL's release because Elfy was everywhere I turned. A year later the fire has died down somewhat and I'm ready to write and draw more about Elfy in a relatively collected way. It's weird but sometimes hot news characters can turn into unimportant characters?!

I wasn't here for this, but Daroach was an important figure in two games, back to back! Imagine at that point, he must have seemed like frickin' Magolor to people! Isn't that wild? And the Animal Friends too! They WERE Kirby's friends, allies, family, supporting cast! They were Kirby's everything! ...Fast forward to the years between 64 and Star Allies and it's like... who?

And even then, trying to "spread the love around" is something I have to make a conscious effort to do, and I still know I'm WAY lacking in this department! I'm sorry, my other precious blorbos! Someday I will give you all each the visual masterpiece you are deserving of!

--

A thought struck me, as I watched a longplay of Kirby's Pinball, Kirby's Blockball and Kirby's Dream Course (three games I didn't play because even as a Kirby fan, young Dess avoided anything that reminded me of "sports.") that there are more "tiers" of Kirby characters than I typically think of!

If you love even the non-Dedede and non-Magolor last bosses or if you love the Dream Friends, you're still eating good. Because in the early games, our "supporting cast" to develop were things like the Poppy Bros, Squishy, Broom Hatter, and Kabu!

And I LIKE those guys! I like the Helpers! I like Wheelie and I like Bonkers! I mean, Chilly, right?! We all love Chilly! These guys were actually treated as kinda important in the older games! (The older manga gave focus to them too.) They didn't have compelling narratives out of the box, but they were staples in Kirby's world!

Have I ever drawn something for them? Have I ever stopped to think up a story about Simirror or Gim...? I'm not trying to guilt anyone or myself. After all, they really don't have compelling narratives, and I think you'd have to do some serious stretching to come up with one. (It might be a little easier for Gigant Edge and Bonkers and Mr. Frosty since they all spent time in the Forgotten Land...)

--

I think what I'm getting at is that we, who love characters who were important, if only for a single game, are kind of blessed to have that experience. Even if it's only for the length of the Milky Way Wishes sub-game or Mass Attack's main campaign. Our favorites were the shining stars with their own arc: triumphant rise and downfall.

So of course we want to plumb their depths! We got attached! And we're still better off than the Brobo fans or... dare I say it... the GRYLL FANS who dearly love a tough as nails last boss with a great design and... that's it...? We Gryll fans (because I am one of them) have pretty much had to make up their character whole cloth.

(On that note, even Gryll being non-binary is not a 100% canon thing. Gryll's just a character who we know so little about, even their gender is "unknown." There are artists all over the world who have settled on either a strictly fem or strictly masc interpretation for our onion witch. Though I prefer enby Gryll and am actually pretty confident that should they make a future appearance, the official localization will go that way themselves.)

For a long time, what informed Gryll's character was "Gryll introduces themselves with the same line that Marx does. Marx Soul and Drawcia Soul share the same attacks. All three use magic. Maybe these three who have never interacted know each other?!" That is, as far as I'm aware, the "origin" of the semi-popular HC that Marx and Gryll are friends/rivals/pseudo-siblings and both of them know/respect/fear Drawcia.

When Magolor came along and hinted he knew Marx, suddenly that lent some credence to all the magic-users knowing each other. Then Taranza came in with some weird hints of his own about knowing Magolor, and then Drawcia started to get pushed out because she was a little bit less "fun" seeming than the others...?

But I want to highlight that this is all made up!!

And I think it was made up because of people like us. People who still hold fondness for the characters that sparked their imagination and, because they were never likely to appear again, started making connections between other benchwarmers.

:cough: currently in the middle of a lengthy comic connecting Adeleine and Dark Matter Swordsman :cough:

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I'm not going to say that we "keep the fandom going" or are somehow more important than people who just draw gorgeous fanart of Kirby. Everyone please keep doing that, btw! (Although it's funny that prolific Kirby fanart master, Suyasuyabi, will often draw these bottom-tier no-personality characters alongside Kirby. We don't get to see what motivates Chip or Blipper but we do get gorgeous visuals of them just living their lives) But our weird little hyperfixations are valuable and do have a purpose!

Still, if we want depth for the non-tier 0 characters, we will need to act on it. We can be helped along by inspiration from other people via weird, off-hand ideas that will make you think "Oh my god, wait what?! Oh, that's PERFECT!"(2) but your brain is going to be the one that makes the most fulfilling connections to you. Thus, my "compelling Brobo backstory" quest.

(I'm currently thinking he could be made by King Dedede? His majesty has a way with robots, after all. Or DOES he? What if there's a person or a place or a Weapon Shop Waddle Dee or Planet Mecheye that his majesty goes to to make his golf robots, blockball robots, and rocket hammer??)

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Have I mentioned this about myself? As everyone knows by now, I'm one of the oldies. Not old as in I've been in the fandom forever. I've only been here for like, a year or two? But I am physically older than the rest of the people I know here, at least. But I only started drawing a few months before officially joining the fandom. (I did write fanfic when I was much younger but I hate all of it. Whee!)

Part of the reason I started drawing at my age was when it finally hit me that I would have these utterly brilliant ideas for cool things! "Oh my gosh, this would be SO perfect for X!" And I would patiently wait for someone to make this same connection and draw or write something for it that I could then love...!

:insert crickets chirping:

And...yeah... This could basically summarize my participation in my last fandom. Now, I actually wrote a lot of essays/answereds some ask questions. I didn't just sit quietly in the corner. But no matter how much I emphasized "This is a really cool thing more people should do something with!!" no one, outside of my one fandom friend, ever did.

I began to despair that maybe no talented artist/writer would ever come along and wave their magic brush/magic pen and fill me up with serotonin in accordance with my dreams. And it's a good thing I realized that because, oops, that's actually kind of true?!

Anyway, not to hammer on Dess's Philosopy of Fandom: that you should make the works you most want to see, regardless of how poor a job you do at the beginning but... yeah, actually. That.

Anyway, keep giving depth to characters! In whatever form you can!

I want to say once more to everyone who follows me and likes my art that I learned all this in like... two years. It just takes obsession :cough: dedication. But yeah, also obsession.

Also insomnia and sacrificing your free time to devouring every piece of beautiful art you come across and dissecting it lovingly. You can do the same with fiction, if you lean more towards writing. Not that I am recommending anyone pick up my regemin...

...Regemen? Regimin? RrrghI JUST looked up this word the other day. How could I have forgotten how to spell it so quickly?!

Aha! It's "Regimen."

...Wow. That's not how I pronounce it at all.

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(1) Note that I seemed to talk a lot about drawing fan art up above, because to me, that IS giving them depth. When you draw a character participating in a hobby, enjoying a certain food, or talking with another character, you are giving them depth! You're rounding them out and making them feel whole!

(2) Another reason I draw a lot of Magolor is that I follow a bunch of obsessive Magolor fans on twitter who seem to do almost nothing but speculate on things that could have happened to Magolor all day(?) Just the other day, someone wrote something like "What if Magolor didn't immediately threaten to take over Popstar in front of Kirby et al? What if he just calmly took over Halcandra on his own and then realized too late that he couldn't take off the crown?"

I found that idea so compelling that five minutes later, I was scribbling this script down...

So, yeah. I want to apologize because for all of my nattering up there, it really isn't all that fair across the board when you like an unloved, unimportant character because the popular characters ALSO get talked about more, which leads to more sparks of inspiration and opportunities to explore ideas and plumb their depths. And that does suck. It just does. It can drain the inspiration you have to work on growing your favorites and make you feel alone and unloved yourself until the love you once felt for your beloved fictional muse is more like a heart-shaped hole in your chest...

...On the bright side, sometimes you can use another character's popularity to grow the less important characters too! I saw another gorgeous and scary comic (in JP) the other day about Magolor and the Master Crown that treated Dark Nebula as a cruel, dangerous, highly intelligent and threatening rival to both of them!! How awesome was that?!

So yeah, try riding the coattails of popular characters to make your favorite blorbo more interesting! Merry Magoland as much as confirms that Magolor has interacted with a stunning amount of Kirby characters. Use the squishsy wizard egg's popularity for your own benefit! (You could argue that's what I do with Marx all the time! Use Magolor's constant appearances to loop Marx into his activities and keep Marx relevant/give him stuff to do...!)

So, what WOULD the fandom's darling think of X canon character we don't see enough of? Or King Dedede. Or Meta Knight. Make connections between the characters that everyone is devouring up content for and draw people's attention that way!

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This is a bit of a silly thing but... my Dark Matter + Adeleine comic-in-progress? The actual base comic did really CRAZY numbers! To the point that it's not even a month old and it's almost as popular as my most popular post! (That being my "moon's haunted" meme I drew when Forgotten Land came out - and oh.my.god it looks so bad?! I want to redraw it just to wipe off the shame... I feel that way about a couple of my more popular pieces tbh...)

Legitimately one of the reasons it became so popular initially was because it featured King Dedede in a sympathetic role. So it got boosted by certain Dedede fans and, not to diminish my own talent, spread way further than it would have on my art/storytelling abilities alone! (To which I'm thankful. And also, I love Dedede myself and love seeing him in serious roles, so it all worked out.)

Anyway, I hope that proved entertaining and maybe a little hopeful?