#dottie moss

[usernoneexistent]

Summer 1895: Colin is working at his grandfather's pub and he quickly realises that he might need to step up sooner rather than later.

Character featured: Mortimer Fraser @lifeofkaze.

Warnings: mentions of illness, child working at a pub.

The chatter of the customers filled the lively atmosphere of the pub at the edge of the cliff. Unfortunately, for legal reasons, Colin's grandfather Rabbie and his friend, Craig Doughlas, had to build it technically off the land. However, today it was all hands on deck, especially since his grandfather's partner was off ill with dragon pox. This summer, Rabbie decided it was time for Colin to learn how to man the bar. Previous summers had been filled with mopping the floor and carrying many crates. It was to toughen Colin up; at least, it was what his grandfather said though Colin had many doubts about it.

The door opened, and a man unabashedly wearing a bright suit entered. He carried himself with flamboyance. Mortimer Fraser was one of a kind, like everyone else at the pub.

"Alright Mortimer," the elderly man doffed his cap at the colourful younger man.

"Alright, Rabbie," Mortimer Fraser greeted back with the same respect. He nicked his head at the young lad. "Alright, Colin, hope your grandfather is not making you work too hard?"

Colin just nodded but carried on his job of cleaning the beer glasses. The boy hid his face, and he found it overwhelming, constantly being stared at while wishing for the ground to pull him down and hide forever.

His grandfather and Mortimer bantered about who was more proud of their grandson or niece. Usually, the conversation concludes with a business deal. The Frasers' whiskey has become a stapler at the Naughty Cliffs. Colin had once had a sip but found himself choking on the spiciness of the firewhiskey while the regulars laughed. Colin had never felt such humiliation in his life.

"Oi Colin!"

Colin turned around to see it was John Campbell. A regular and perhaps his grandfather's most loyal customer. He always sat at the bar to the corner to the left. His face was mauled, a scar covered the right side from a werewolf claw, and his nose stood crooked from being punched too many times. John scared Colin when he was a wee boy, but he realised quickly that he had a big soft heart. After a time, John slowly started to fill the shoes of a father figure. While neither ever expected it, it was embraced by both parties.

"Geez another round would you?"

"The usual?" Colin already knew John wanted his usual brand of scotch.

"Be kind tae the lad," his mother jokingly whacked John's arm. She was carrying the drinks and food from customer to customer. "You had enough tae drink."

"Come on, Dottie." He rolled his pale eyes playfully. "Another won't harm me or you. I'm bringing money tae, yer family."

It wasn't a lie, though. John had been more than generous to the Mosses despite barely affording anything for himself.

"How was work at the leaky cauldron?" His mother asked in a low voice. John always had difficulty maintaining jobs; his current job was as a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley.

John sighed, looking wearier than ever. "Had tae leave and almost got outed by a colleague."

His mother looked concerned. Colin handed over the scotch to John though he was never sure what John's relationship was with his mother. He had enquired about it once when he mustered enough courage, but his mother said they were just friends.

"Don't worry, Dottie. I managed tae find work at a broom factory." He assured her. A loud bang echoed through the pub while glass clattered.

"Colin!"

"Yes, Grandpa?"

Colin rushed over to the entrance, his grandfather hunched over spluttering. Mortimer had brought more supplies and offered to help, but knowing his grandpa, his pride wouldn't let him. In the past, his grandfather would have used his wand; however, shamefully, Colin returned it broken. His grandfather lent his wand when Copin started his education at Hogwarts. He felt so proud and terrified to use the magnificent though tired wand. Unfortunately, some older boys grabbed him and snapped the pear wood wand.

Colin almost cried, handing over the broken pieces to his grandfather. Though the unicorn hairstring barely held it together, his grandfather comforted and assured him they could quickly fix it with a bandage. They managed to gather enough money for Colin to get a brand new wand though he still felt shame over the incident.

His grandpa was hunched over with a crate of firewhiskey, letting out a series of heavy coughs.

"Are you alright, Grandpa?" Colin tried to help his hunched grandpa and spluttered out a series of coughs.

"I'm good, Colin."

"You don't sound so good."

"The lad is right," Mortimer rushed over as he witnessed the commotion. "Do you want to go to St Mungo to get it checked out."

"No, no. I'm good." He refuted the offer.

"Are you sure?" Mortimer pressed on.

"Mr Fraser is right, Grandpa. Me and Ma can man the place. You taught me so." Colin pleaded; it's not like a trip to St Mungo would cost them anything except his grandpa's pride.

"I'll be fine." He swatted away the gathering crowd. Mortimer looked at Colin with still concern, but Colin shyly shrugged back.

"At least let me carry this," his grandfather was preparing to refuse. Still, Colin decided to assert himself and lifted the crate to the backroom. Mortimer left their establishment though he did ask one last time if Rabbie was sure he was feeling well. Though he did agree to allow Colin, to do more at the bar. He did feel a little more confident about tending the bar. However, he couldn't help but worry about his grandfather's health, especially when he was away at Hogwarts the next month.

[bearchuckles]

One bit of advice that has stuck with me (I cannot remember who said it. Feel like it might have been Neil Gaiman? I'm probably wrong.) But it was something like 'If your ______ is more interesting you're writing the wrong ______ and should refocus the story on that interesting thing.'

I've kinda always taken it to heart. If my backstory is more interesting then maybe that's the story I should be writing. If a side character is more interesting then maybe that's who I should be focusing on. I kind of try to apply it to everything. I've even adjusted chapters in my original work off this premise. (like the beginning just seemed too slow so despite how I liked the start I ended up starting the book kind of 'in the middle' and it really works far better this way with the occasional throwback to those earlier chapters now woven in)

So yeah, if you like those side characters and they're interesting perhaps you need to change who you're writing about.

Aha...ha...I need to stop falling in love with my own side characters.

The way my stories tend to go this is setting myself up for pain.

[askthedreamyversegang]

Tada! I decided to draw every single oc in the tourney I can draw (+A few honorable characters that deserved a spot in the doodle sheet).

Credits under the cut!

Star by @c0ffee-7

Valfrey by @gethoce

Amaterasu by @zerosocialskillz

Rainbow Dee by @cali-kabi

Moonstone by @m0x1ez

Lemon Dee by @snazzyladreal

Starry Dee by @staring-at-a-blank-pagee

Rifty by @dizzy-dudd

Aphelion by @hadopelagicpsi

Aijo by @starstruck358 / @birby-blog

Dotty by @cauli-flawa

Shattered Reality AU​ Marx and Dokutaro (Actually Pecharunt​ from Pok��mon)​ by @poyoofthestars / @galactic-ambitions-jester

Starstruck Dee by @starflungwaddledee

Cosmo by @poppybros-jr

Sir Uther (Who is probably a pile of ash by now) by @quanblovk

Periwinkle, Ginger, Moss, Niru, Artist Dee and Honey Toast Dee by Me, @shibuyatoastedcursor .

And that wraps it up folks, I hope you don't mind the pings!

Bonus:

A​ placeholder Shade Knight I thought looked a little too good to leave out.

Shade Knight by @rosiegardenlove .

For: @kirbyoctournament

[shyfoxsky]

Photo Credits: rpbirdman, Wes and Dotty Weber, John Benet, Tom Vezo

I wanted to share some pictures that feel like me not because of conformation or pelt shape or coloration, but because of location. I've talked about how I feel like I come from the SE US due to being from there as a human, leftover from back when I considered my identity to be pretty much entirely spiritual, back on Instagram. That hasn't exactly changed, I still see a lot of my home state as my natural range, thanks to lumping red wolves into my ambitherian label, but I've come to see the specific region where I live within my state as my true territory less and less.

As a wolf, I don't really truly care where I am, as long as it gets cold and there's plenty of food. It's not in a hunter's job to be picky, but I do find myself most comfortable with specific plant makeups on the landscape. I also said this at one point over on Instagram, but I used to be huge on swimming in the ocean. Every chance I got, whether it was a beach, a pool, or even a puddle, I'd stick my paws in. Water is such a big part of my identity. I need water in the warmer months and snow in the colder months. It's just how I am, so when during summer classes for college we went on a trip to the great smoky mountains and I got to see mountains with my own eyes and swim in freshwater streams for the first time, it spoiled me, legitimately rewired my brain. Ever since, I've been unable to be excited to swim in saltwater or chlorinated water. I also got to see a forest made up of something other than slash and loblolly pines and saw palmettos. I got to see a whole forest of spruce and fir trees and moss for an understory. After that, the same thing happened when it came to the forests I once was head over heels for. The pines that I used to be crazy about are now just another forest, nowhere near as special as those. I can only imagine how it would feel to go back during the winter and see it when it's cold and snowy.

All this to say that although I consider the coastal plain to be my home as much as anywhere else in the Eastern US, I cannot deny that the mountains are where my heart lies. I long to wade in their streams, protected on all sides my their slopes and peaks. I just want to post about it here and give some appreciation for my hearthome.

Below is a video that perfectly encapsulates what I feel is my environment. It's in New York, far north of where I live, but it still has species I consider familiar as well as the mountains and streams I call my own. It's part of a very short list of pieces of media that I would concretely say are me in every way.

[dreaming-notsleeping]

Just gone back to the baby blanket after finishing the Dotty sweater. The border in moss stitch is done on one side and and making progress on the bubbles. The p5 together stitch gave me some problems at first, but I seem to be getting the hang of it.

[shakinthedust]

"i don't know, maybe because that's how conversations work? and i haven't made my mind up yet but that tone certainly isn't helping your case."

@shakinthedust

"well, why ask then? it sounds like you've already got your mind made up."

[kangaruined]

tagged by @turtle183 to share my lockscreen, last song i listened to, last movie i watched, and the last picture i took :]

im kinda cheating cause i cannot for the life of me remember the last movie i watched??? like at all? i feel like it couldnt have been that long ago but honestly...no idea 🥴

my lockscreen is some art i like, the song is a charming spanish ballad, and the picture is my cat dottie next to the second round of blackberries my partner and i picked in our backyard. we already made two pies before this, and have eaten sooo many fresh, and we're probably only a quarter of the way through the total production of the season...the brambles just keep em coming 😤

anyway! happy (northern hemisphere) summer pals, i hope ur all doing well inside my phone. im gonna tag @gentlelibrarian @buttfacemcgee @evil-ernie @fucking-pimberly-i-guess @knivescha0 @moss-wizard @bradleybaggins @callmepippin if you wanna do it, no pressure! and anyone else who might wanna share <3

off to eat some blackberries :]

[slutfortheeclaymore]

Our little fanfic passion project Drew’s Angels is rolling along! We just left Scotland & Dublin, a trip that saw so much happen, culminating in the weddings of Drew & Cherry and Sheamus & Phoenix! Now the team is back in Nashville, our next adventure has started with a mysterious jukebox!

Will it draw Cherry & Drew into its secrets?

How will Sheamus & Phoenix deal with adopting Alyssa?

Will Madcap Moss finally meet Krystal, his dream girl?

Are we about to get another wedding with Randy & Denise or Kevin & Lady?

Well, come read and find out! 💙💙💙

@wwechristina87 @denise63089 @ashkrystal

[sporadiceagleheart]

Everyone Welcome to my tribute edit for Suzanne Crough and all Actress and Actors Child actress and actors

Skye McCole Bartusiak,Marie Osborne Yeats,

Dorothy Ann “Dottie” Seese, Heather O'Rourke and Judith Barsi, Shirley Temple Black 1928-2014 and Baby LeRoy, Baby Peggy Montgomery, Peggy Cartwright, Darla Jean Hood, Jean Darling, Peaches Jackson, Mary Ann Jackson, Judy Garland, Margaret Hamilton, Billie Burke, Terry, Terry Burnham, Michael Gambon, Bob Saget, Betty White, Jack Albertson, Richard Belzer, Gene Wilder, Denise Nickerson, Lucille Ricksen, Lucille Ball, Lisa Loring, Lance Reddick, Alan Rickman, Richard Harris, Helen McCrory, Robbie Coltrane, Tyree Boyce, Cameron Boyce, Anne Shirley, Virginia Weidler, Jane Withers, Mary Kornman, Mildred Kornman, Dorothy DeBorba, Cammack"Cammie"King, Dominique Dunne, Samantha Reed Smith, Michael Lerner, Marianne Edwards, Shirley Jean Rickert, Rosina Lawrence, June Marlowe, Carl Switzer, Darwood Kaye, Jackie Lynn Taylor, Sybil Jason, Susan Gordon, Taruni Sachdev, Anne Whitfield, Sophie Firth, Anissa Jones, Bridgette Andersen, Dana Plato, Dana Hill, Julie Vega, Jeanine Ann Roose, Ed Asner, James Caan, Virginia Ann Marie Patton Moss, Sharyn Moffett, Adam Rich, Rose Marie, Janet Gaynor, Edith Fellows, Peggy Ann Garner, Anne Heche, Kailia Posey, Natalie Wood, Christine Chubbuck, Jacquie Jackie Lyn Dufton, Jackie Coogan, Gary Coleman, Matthew Garber, Sammi Kane Kraft,

[screaming-into-my-void]

A complete list of valid english words that are alphabetical

a

ab

abbe

abbes

abbess

abbey

abbot

Abel

abet

abhor

abhors

ablow

ably

abo

abort

abos

Abu

abuzz

aby

accent

accept

access

accost

ace

acer

acers

aces

achy

ack

act

ad

add

adder

adders

adds

addy

adeem

adeems

adept

adios

ado

adopt

ads

ae

aegis

aery

affix

afflux

afoot

aft

agio

agios

aglow

ago

ah

ahoy

ahs

ai

ail

ails

aim

aims

ain

ain't

air

airs

airt

airy

ais

ait

aitu

al

all

allot

allow

alloy

ally

almost

alms

alp

alps

alt

am

ammo

amor

amort

amp

amps

Amy

an

Ann

anno

annoy

Anns

Ans

ant

any

apt

arsy

art

arty

ary

as

ass

at

au

aux

aw

ay

BBC

b.c

be

bee

beef

beefs

beefy

been

beep

beeps

beer

beers

beery

bees

beet

befit

beg

begin

begins

begot

begs

bel

bell

bello

bellow

bells

belly

below

bels

belt

bely

ben

Benn

benny

bens

bent

Benz

berry

Bert

Bess

Bessy

best

bet

betty

bevvy

bevy

bey

bez

bi

bijou

bijoux

bill

billow

billowy

bills

billy

bin

bins

bint

bio

biopsy

bios

birr

birrs

bis

bit

bitt

bitty

bivvy

biz

bloop

bloops

blot

blow

blowy

BMX

Bo

boo

boor

boors

boos

boost

boot

booty

bop

bops

bort

boss

bossy

bot

bott

botty

bow

box

boxy

boy

brrr

BST

btu

buy

buzz

by

cee

cees

ceil

ceils

Cel

cell

cello

cellos

cells

celt

cent

cep

ceps

cert

cess

chi

chill

chills

chilly

chimp

chimps

chin

chino

chinos

chins

chintz

chip

chippy

chips

chirr

chirrs

chis

chit

chitty

chivvy

chiz

choo

choosy

chop

choppy

chops

chott

chou

choux

chow

choy

ci

cissy

cist

city

civvy

cloot

clop

clops

clos

clot

clotty

clou

clow

cloy

cm

co

coo

coop

coops

coopt

coos

coot

cop

cops

copy

coq

cory

cos

cost

cosy

cot

cow

cox

coxy

coy

coz

cru

crux

cry

cs

de

dee

deem

deems

deep

deeps

deer

deers

def

deft

defy

deist

deity

dekko

dekkos

del

dell

dells

delos

demo

demos

demy

den

Denny

dens

dent

deny

deo

dept

der

derry

derv

des

deux

dev

dew

dewy

dhow

di

dikkop

dikkops

dill

dills

dilly

dim

dims

din

dins

dint

dip

dippy

dips

dirt

dirty

dis

diss

ditty

div

divvy

dixy

do

doo

door

doors

dop

dops

dopy

dory

dos

doss

dost

dot

dotty

doty

doxy

Dr

dry

du

dux

eek

eeks

eel

eels

eely

eery

eff

efflux

effort

effs

eft

E.G

egg

eggs

eggy

egis

ego

egos

eh

ell

ells

elm

elms

em

Emmy

empty

emu

enow

envy

er

err

errs

erst

es

ess

est.

et

ex

fil

fill

fills

filly

film

films

filmy

filo

fin

Finn

finny

fins

fir

firry

firs

first

fist

fisty

fit

fix

fizz

floor

floors

floosy

flop

floppy

flops

floss

flossy

flow

flu

flux

fly

foo

foot

footy

fop

fops

for

fort

forty

fox

foxy

foy

fry

ft

fu

fuzz

g

ghost

ghosty

gill

gills

gilt

gimp

gimps

gimpy

gin

ginny

gins

girt

gist

git

gloop

gloops

gloopy

glop

glops

glory

gloss

glossy

glow

gm

GMT

gnu

go

goo

goop

goops

goopy

goos

goosy

gorsy

gory

goss

got

gov

goy

Gru

guv

guy

h

hi

hill

hills

hilly

hilt

him

hint

hip

hippy

hips

his

hiss

hist

hit

ho

hoo

hoop

hoops

hoot

hop

hoppy

hops

hors

horst

horsy

host

hot

how

hox

hoy

I

I’ll

I’m

ill

ills

illy

imp

imps

in

inn

inns

ins

io

iOS

IOU

is

it

itty

iv

ivy

ix

jo

joss

jot

joy

knop

knops

knot

knotty

know

Knox

kop

kos

lo

loo

loop

loops

loopy

loos

loot

lop

lops

lor

lorry

loss

lossy

lost

lot

Lou

low

lox

Loy

luv

lux

m

mm

Mo

moo

moop

moops

moor

moors

moos

moot

mop

mops

mor

mort

moss

mossy

most

mot

mott

Motty

motu

mou

mow

moz

mozz

MP

MPs

Mr

Mrs

ms

mu

mux

mx

my

no

noop

noops

nor

nosy

not

now

noy

nu

oops

op

ops

opt

or

ort

ow

ox

oxy

oy

oz

pps

pry

ps

psst

pst

qt

st

sty

tux

tv

there has got to be more words in alphabetical order than first. i have to make more bits in my coloring of the talliee

ABCDEFGHI KLMNOP RST W Y

20/26

[cunningmosswords]

#05 The Wolf With the Red Roses

Thorns Cut, Petals Bleed

"Would you fall for him, the way his eyes swallow you"

The fifth issue of Cunning Moss Words is focused on themes of hesitation, crushes, and prom. This one is for every wolf who offered flowers and either wanted too much or didn't even know how to ask for your hand to dance. You all deserve someone that equally admire you the way you admire them.

When he comes calling 

Running on fours to twos 

In his slick black suit 

With a banquet of flowers

Shimmering crimson petals 

Calling forth to you

Would you fall for him

The ways his eyes swallow you 

Will you offer him your soul 

The way he offers his own paws

To the cutting blades of lost traps

From the ones who before him snapped 

Would you hold him up in all his cuts

Until the wounds fade to scars 

And say yes he is enough

For the wolf with the red roses 

Would offer you more 

More than red roses 

Rabbit feets and feather wings

Winter's first spring 

And moon drop beams 

But one wrong step 

May lead to fallen flesh 

Being torn to unrecognisable pieces

By you, or him 

Who knows? 

When both carry sharp claws 

And a stirring silent pause 

For he howls to the winds 

And you- you crumple your emotions 

To only stomp on them forgotten red roses 

And carry on like he didn't hold the world in them

Love comes and goes anew whilst others beg to die in love's cinders. Ravens chase after never aging romantic dreamers, Juliets' write letters never sent to star-cross loving and gods miss damnation of muses eyes by parted seconds. Dates are asked, time is set, flowers are picked and crushes wonder if their beating, flirting hearts may lead to anything but awkward glances, with words left falling from thoughts before they have the chance to become spoken sonnets. Schoolyard kids tease, girls carelessly flirt unaware of the effects, rejected boys don't learn the dagger of their words- shielding their bruising egos. Teenagers get to celebrate getting wasted in the bushes whilst some lips stay pure from a drop or the need of a hangover cure. Whilst others are far from untouched, half filled by roaming souls and the other, the atoms of their own.

A crush desire turns one on their head wondering what is real but a fever of curiosity moulding to one another's hands. All leading to rehearsed narratives and sudden panic of wanting-unwanting while wanting to be wanted. Too many fires put out, too many letters unsent, too many daydreams that some outgrow and others infinitely power their sleep with. One’s crushing love that is crushed isn’t the factor- but too many hands happily picking and handing out flowers. How would one know to trust a smile and all the touches and the thoughts behind pretty words and growing advances. 

;

A bare throat stings from the summer night heat and quickening heartbeat that pushes and pulls at the skin. Eyes are smeared with deep black liner drawn by clumsy hands who are not used to such a ritual. Worn, is a navy blue knee-long dress and converse sneakers that match it. Worn down are the soles that are grass stained but still strong enough to dance the night away in. Hair is held back and untamley brushed to tame as eyes look for any misplaced strands that have lost their way. Once clipped back a bag is packed and repacked, shoelaces are tied and a silver chain clicked in place around her stinging neck. 

Her foot jitters and hands play with the chain that might just break from her anxious strength. She wonders why she said yes to a night of nervous fluttering, party shouting, loud music banging. This was a social gathering, talking, dancing, nothing to be fluttered by, yet the air clutches at her as she clutches her skirt. White dogs' hair stick out on the navy fabric and fall to the floor in her movements. Squint and small visible red skid marks from football pitches shine on her exposed legs that turn dotty, like strawberries beneath the blades. Their bleeding dots cloth and vanish with the fading redness, still they sting like that stringing neck when brushed against the fabric of folded slipping socks. Instead of slumping with them, a knock on the door pushes her to pluck a smile, loosen her grip and meet the boy at the door. 

He has scrubbed and cut his face in a similar red and tried to tame his own messy long hair. But those efforts don't leave an impression or the white rose flower in his hand- it's the look in his eyes. Smiling, honest and fearful of making some dreaded fumbling mistake tonight where he can't hide. She suddenly wishes she had waves of fabric to hide her face from that swallowing look as his arm reaches for her and they step to a walking. The sky is still bright and his hands touch cold as hers make her skin feel burning warm. Their eyes steal glances at each other and the air falls awkward with small introverted chatter that takes place in minds then spoken out loud in the quiet night. 

Somewhere they join their way into the crowds of teenagers, teenagers who spent too much on a night that they won't remember, new dresses, hired tuxes, hair done up in salon sessions, with the drinks gathered and attempted to be hidden. They make it through the halls, prom decorations, ticket handling, photo swapping, phones flashing. He smiles at friends he's known and her face becomes stiff, she doesn't recognise any of the energy filled people here. The drinks are spiked, the music loud, getting louder, groups gather left, gather right. Is she supposed to survive the whole night? She wishes she had more than desired fabric sleeves to hide behind- maybe she should set up camp under the stairs with blankets to wrap herself in. Excusing her from him, she wanders to the restroom sink for a splash of cold water, hearing girls whisper triumph and tips to ruffle under blankets with. Suddenly the idea of a blanket doesn’t bring comfort nor is the drink passed into her hand when she returns into the hall. 

Their voices follow as she hears the gossiping hiss of girls who know him and don't know her. Don't know this attempt at a dressed-up girl with a white flower at her wrist, untamed hair that's gone astrayer, face splashed to rid the panicked flush away. Their glaring eyes are burning and poisoned words dripping though they should be lost to themselves then on her oddness out of place here, standing statue still. She sees hands travelling, clothing slipping, drinks with other things swimming. She's lost but the crowd is loose on themselves and suddenly dancing seems too much with a stretched out hand-other meanings laced within it. The boy departed from friends, stands, hand out, an offering to dance- eyes hungry- but her appetite is null. The flower on her wrist is starting to drip red, petals falling, pretty gifts with not so charming intentions. 

This was wrong, this is wrong, she is odd, odd be unwanted seems better. She holds it together at the door, through the crowd and the loud panging sounds, holds it together when he follows and moves to hold her hand. Holds it together as his eyes fall to familiar orbs that are lost in her fleeing. Holds it together when he calls to calm her. Holds it together till she realises- she doesn't hold anything at all as no such event has occurred. She didn't enter the hall or step out of the door for he never said the question aloud.

No deep looking eyes, high skipping smiles or prom lights. She had not gotten up that evening dressed for a party. Instead, she wondered what she had done wrong and he wondered why he didn’t brave himself to ask and she wondered further why her thoughts are stuck negatively frightened on things that have not and won't occur. But she can’t help to think he doesn’t want to know her the way she wants to know and be known. She had sat waiting in their usual spot in drama club, sat on thorn chairs circling words on poetry pages when he appeared beaming nervously, sitting down into their weekly routine. Asking question after question, attempting to invite her on dates with badly chosen words while their core meaning seemed to be so obvious and oblivious to her, a paradox of un/said question marks. For words missing in his sentences are pouring from his eyes. Punished she feels, for the ache grows in his lack of straightforward questions and her lack of asking him bluntly to get to the point of it. She just nods, smiles and the conversation moves on. 

Today though, he brings up Prom, asks her about the colours, if she likes dancing, if she has been asked by anyone yet, if she is going- there the words get caught in his tongue. She can see it like the clearest ocean, will you go to prom with me? He turns away, and doesn’t complete his asking, resulting in a smack on the shoulder from his friend as he stirs the conversation in a different direction. The nodding stops, and her smile drops. She never thought he’d want to ask her or that he was going. But that chance thought, that look, a story tied together in her head like a blooming flower- shed apart, petal by petal, non existing thorns digging into flesh. 

She went from hopefully admiring any alternative possibility that he would ask and she say yes, to unravelling anyway he'd stay the person she has known. A boy with absorbing eyes, not one hungry for more than romantic loving thought. Playing a deeper game she wasn’t fully sure she wanted to be a part of. 

The aftermath of the dropped question plays out in her mind

Her "Why didn't you just ask?"

Him "Because I was scared" 

Her  "Scared I'd say no?" 

Him "Scared you'd say yes" 

Her “I’m tired of boys whose words stay stuck shut”

Him “Why did you not turn to ask me?”

Her “I am scared to buckle and fall”

Him “I wouldn’t have said no”

Her “Yes, and maybe you would have asked for far too much” 

For she wasn’t to give more to someone who may turn out to be a collector, handing flowers to other pretty blooming souls. So she should keep to growing and sharpening her own thorns till someone would prove to her, she means something more. Not locker room talk, not be chased like prey, or a lost romantic thought.  

Is it bad to ask someone to bare their soul if they ask you to bare your throat? Just to know someone isn’t asking because everyone before said no? Or that someone won’t drop all their flowers once they know your answer may be a yes? Pursue to be pursued, picked to be pricked, cut to be bled of some truth. 

© 2023 Cunning Moss Words - Written by Anayis N. Der Hakopian

[tricxet]

He could've bet that she would take the impetus to be honest and kind; Six was almost always the first as much as he had changed. She could nudge him, but she would never push.

And so in turn Loki wouldn't bristle as he stood hand-in-hand with her in the woods, his toes spreading in damp moss. Green eyes cast out again, thoughtful and suddenly somber. "I... no. Well, not particularly, but..."

"I consider this... preventative, Dotty. You know... placation before the inevitable turn. Getting in his good graces... sucking up, sort of, so he doesn't... decide to be ashamed of me, or whatever." his other hand lifted to scratch the back of his head. He sounded pathetic.

Patience was a virtue, and one of the few that Dorothy had in droves. It was bound to come up – she knew it was going to, but only when he might’ve been ready. With a gentle squeeze of his hand came the quiet promise: I’m here for you.

“It must be tiring,” she offered aloud. It was empathetic. He didn’t need to apologize. While she’d missed him, it wasn’t as if she demanded his time. Even if some cruel gods might’ve thought otherwise.

“ I know I can be honest with you, which is why I know I can say this,” it was a speech she’d been practicing since her dream with the Liesmith. Playing the game, so to speak. Better than not trying at all, “I’m worried about you. About all of Odin’s demands. I love you, and I just want you to be happy… is it making you happy, Loki?”

[askthedreamyversegang]

My second attempt at drawing every single Kirby oc in the tourney I can possibly draw (+A few characters​ that​ deserved​ a​ spot​ in​ the​ doodle​ sheet).

Credits under the cut!

Star by @c0ffee-7

Valfrey by @gethoce

Amaterasu by @zerosocialskillz

Rainbow Dee by @cali-kabi

Moonstone by @m0x1ez

Lemon Dee by @snazzyladreal

Starry Dee by @staring-at-a-blank-pagee

Rifty by @dizzy-dudd

Aphelion by @hadopelagicpsi

Aijo by @starstruck358

Dotty by @cauli-flawa

Shattered Reality AU​ Marx and Dokutaro (Actually Pecharunt​ from Pokémon)​ by @poyoofthestars / @galactic-ambitions-jester

Starstruck Dee by @starflungwaddledee

Cosmo by @poppybros-jr

Sir Uther (this doodle shows him before becoming a pile of ash.) by @quanblovk

Aife by @kosmic-autokrat / The previous host of the Kirby Oc Tournament

Noir Fontaine by @desultory-novice

Shade Knight by​ @rosiegardenlove

Anti by @boa35

Periwinkle, Ginger, Moss, Niru, and Honey Toast Dee by Me, @shibuyatoastedcursor (aka. @shibuya-toast / The mod of this ask blog).

Propaganda (and anti propaganda in Uther’s case) for the @kirbyoctournament !

And that wraps it up once again folks, I hope you don't mind the pings!

Individual doodles coming soon!

Bonus:

It looks like Noir is having a bad time over here, because y’know. ;)

[7-omen-7]

Here are some names that aren’t strictly for females or males

Alpha Astrix/Asterisk Axis Blur Bolt Brick Cube Cyan Data Delta Echo Entity Error Exa/Exo Form Friday Hazard Idea Impulse Infinity Ion Kilo Kite Limit Name Nebula Neon Obsidian Plastic Point Quartz Qwerty Radar Retina Reverb Rocket Scavenger Sigma Sonar Swing Tank Tax Tera Valence Vertex Virus Vortex Audience Beat Binary Brass Cable Canon Canvas Chord Clash Coarse Crash Discord Double Feedback Forte Genre Hack Hollow Hook Impulse/Pulse Ink Key Lyric Mellow Memory Neon Noise Note Omen Phase Quaver Riddle Shallow Sharp Shiny Snare Treble Tune Twang Aloe Arrow Atlas Azure Balsa Bee Beetle Branch Bread Bridge Candle Cedar Cello Chameleon Cherry Cloud Clover Coffee East Echo Egg Ember Fern Finch Flannel Forest Gecko Gem Goose Grey Jay Kale Lake Leaf Mango Maple Moss Oak Pond Poppy Rain Raven Rock Silver Topaz Violet Wednesday Willow Wood Frog Max Alex Shawn/Shawne Kai SCP 834 Nyx Ares War Criminal Cas Sky/Skie Bee Ash Arson Vin Sal Cat/Kat Tax Fraud Liminal Dream Fade Angel Glitch Tooth Centipede Chlorine Crayon Fever Bones Ghost Eye Omen Nurse Band-aid Tape Glow Legs Decay Poison Blowfly Needle Finger Mold Doll Wasp Moth Dirt Bunny Trinket Shell Cicada Ariel Astra Aurora Celeste Luna Nova Starling Starr Stella Sunshine Aldrin Apollo Callisto Castor Comet Hercules Leo Neptune Rocket Solar Aries Eclipse Galaxy Halo Mars Mercury Moon Saturn Star Sun book strawberry cherry tea soup lace butters melody lyric bunny slime apple Saturn star venus kandi/kandy/candy glitter monster zero/zee/z neo gutz/guts brainz/brains trixie roxy rex Moss Bones Arson Rain Feather Cloud Deep Raven Fall captain bone/bones patch/patches sparrow flynn skipper boots hook reef treasure Winter Midnight Crow Corvid Raven Siren Shade Nova Veil Salem Ash Aster Devin Day Hyde Dagger Knife Psyche Osiris Pandora Haven Jade Blade Gray Ember Ebony Blue Dee Day Dove Sky Rain Ash Coin Pax Rex Mick Reef Rory Ari Bug River Dane Finn Lumi Lux Ore Roux Note Tone Melody Piper Sonata Violin Coda Riff Alto Lyre Lyric Calypso Cadence Chorus Canto Chanson Harper Lorelei Octave Song Muse Canon Clef Motif Legato Nonet Pan Rhapsody Trill Vevace Dusk Indigo Orion Onyx Obsidian Somnus Hypnos Morpheus Noctis Noir Nero Umbra Ash Omega Orpheus Crow Jinx Hex Grey Pandora Morrigan Shade Silver Zephyr Storm Crimson sprinkle Bunny cloud Skittle kitty birdie bee flower Grass peach strawberry cherry Berry Apple Berry Apricot Huckleberry Mulberry Honeydew Lychee Peach Cherry Basil Bayleef Pepper Anise Clove Coriander Ginger Nutmeg Rosemary Rue Sesame Thyme Saffron exe/txt/pdf/gif web/website tech emoji sci beta dell chip zip Arson Blue Blur Brick. Cloud Detective Dice Egg Elmers Error Gremlin Icon Jester Lake Leaf Mischief Nike Nintendo Pi Royal Skull Spark Ten Tesla Vortex Yoshi Zero Zoom angela/angelo/angie angelonia/angel andy/andi ann/annie/anny antares andromeda bone/bones biscuit/biskit paw fluffy fetch scout chase skull corpse blade jinx hex bat bandit rogue trick/tricky smoke lee leo/lio pluto mars orion redd avery aster cyrus cleo miles quinn indigo amber ruby sugar lace/lacey boba rosie mae merry dottie plush/plushie cinnabun pompom teddy peach smile/smiles/smiley alphabet blocks bug snail paint crayon slime sticker rainbow gummy candy/kandi button bandaid glitch static disc pixel robot/bot glitter wire/wires code key/keys virus byte bunny/bunnie/bun kitty/kit/kitten plush/plushie milk fluff cloud bubble/bubbles angel ghost tea cookie bow / ribbon bonbon puff / creampuff Nintendo Mossy Quill Spark Vermillion Cotton Candy (or C.C. for short) Cocoa Indigo Sunset Elmers Snowy Sketchpad Frost Jester Poltergeist Spirit Cricket Poem Puck Mischief Truffle Golden Clay Feather Hatchet Gremlin Stone Brad Chad Thad Zoom Crayon Detective Otter Sonic Armadillo Ocelot Puggles (name for baby platypus) Dylan Logan River Fince Ellory Finn Converse Sage Saint Sal Saturday Saxon Scan Scatter Scoop Scorpion Scout Scream Sea Senti Sentinel September Serene Seven Shade Shadow Shake Shatter Shaw Silent/Silence Silver Siphon Skill

[foxglovesound]

Fennel Summertune of Redthicket Grove

Name: Fennel Summertune Past Names: Mason Jar (housecat name); Dotty (kit name) Age: 38 months (3 years) Rank: Medic Identity & Pronouns: Molly, she/her Orientation: Lesbian

Family:

Madrone || wife, outlaw

Nimble || sister, Redthicket Grove resident

Maple || brother, Redthicket Grove cavalry member  

Residency: Heartbeat Den Network 

Accessories: Traditional floral and moss medic collar; a mistletoe earring on her right ear that matches her wife’s and was gifted to her during their union ceremony.

originally designed by @/donnyclaws 

[usernoneexistent]

Summer 1895: Winona uncovers something she shouldn't have in her father's desk. Welcome to the first chapter. Its a wild ride.

Warnings: affair, threats, victorian misogyny.

Sunlight beams streamed through the office windows. The large muslin curtains waved gently through the opened window allowing the fresh Edinburgh countryside air. Near the East Lothian and on the edge of Edinburgh are a collection of manors where only the upper echelons reside. Stormview Manor is rich with history; once belonging to the Rowles landed in the hands of an American wizard, Scott Rosewood.

The large panelled door creaked open as a head peaked at a relatively empty office.

"Papa?" The young witch cautiously entered.

"Oh, papa?" She continued in a sing-song voice, but there was no response.

She walked towards the mahogany desk, where a framed picture of her and her family stood. Winona Rosewood grinned at her younger self, pulling a face at the camera. Her mother told her off, but her father said it was a good character and kept it.

She noticed the golden brass key of the usually locked drawer placed on the desk. Her father was somewhat overprotective of the office, and it was a rare occasion for her father to be absent and have the desk key in plain view.

Winona wanted to know what her father was hiding. She thought about all the possibilities, like the hidden secrets of his clients. They were criminals or poor people who couldn't help but resort to crime to feed their needy families. She envisioned a poor man having to steal a loaf of bread to feed his starving family.

She turned the key to open the forbidden drawer. To her disappointment, she found letters addressed to several women and erotic books. The most common name that appeared repeatedly was Dottie.

Sounds of a couple of footsteps walked swiftly as Winona hid under the desk. She heard giggles that she recognised belonged to the maids of the household.

After the close call, Winona dared to open the letters and read each content carefully, word by word. She audibly gasped at each profession of love and lust to this woman whom she later found out was called Theodora and was once a secretary of her father. The dates go back to 1879, when her older brother, Glenn, was born.

Winona read something she probably shouldn't have in the last dated letter. Her father not only had an affair but also had an illegitimate son. His name was Colin Robert Scott Moss. Her chest tightened. She realised it was the same Colin with whom her maternal cousin, Lysander Mercury, shared a dorm. Blue hair and was rumoured to be a part werewolf, but Lys had told her it was just a rumour.

"Nona?" The tall, sturdy man stood by the door. Winona panicked and tried to hide the evidence, but all the available contents were spilt around, almost encircling her. His hazel eyes sharpened.

"What are you doing, young lady?!" He hissed as he rushed over and dragged her by the arm. His grip tightened as he recognised the handwriting.

"Nothing, papa." She found her voice to be shaky. Winona had never seen her papa this angry, and it frightened her.

He snatched the letter out of her hand, and the paper was torn and crumpled in his hand. "Does this look like nothing to you?!"

"Fine!" Winona yelled. Her father covered her mouth before throwing a glance over his shoulder. She grabbed his hand away, and her arm was covered in ugly red marks of his hand prints on her white skin.

"You shall breathe not a single word about this." He emphasised each word. Scott went over and closed the office door.

"Will you tell mama?" She asked.

"She already knows. About the affairs." Her father clarified. Winona's hazel eyes widened in shock. At this particular, the illusion of the love her parents had growing up crumbled before her very eyes. The fact her father betrayed her mother really sunk in. He slowly started to pick up the letters.

"Why? Why did you do it?"

"Because Winona," he sighed, throwing his hands on the desk out of frustration. His daughter may be only fourteen, but she certainly wasn't as naive as he believed her to be. "Men have...certain needs."

"And women don't?" She responded back sarcastically, almost angrily.

Scott threw back his head in laughter as if he had heard the greatest joke of all time.

"Women don't have the same level of need as men." As much as Winona wanted to argue back further, another question still loomed over her.

"But she doesn't know about Colin?"

"Don't you dare say his name again." His glare intensified. "He is not part of this family. He is not my son."

Winona trembled; she wanted to be brave. She really did, but the fact her world what she knew was no more. She didn't feel courageous like a Gryffindor should. Scott softened and, in contrast to earlier, gently touched her shoulder.

"Now, now Nona. I will tell your mother in time so you don't need to tell her, alright?" Winona nodded. "Now be a good girl and run along now will you? I have a mess to clean up."

Winona ran without looking back. Down the long winding corridors, the maids and house elves push past. All she wanted was to run into her mother's arms and tell her everything that had passed in her father's office. Though ultimately, she is decided to place her trust that her father will tell her mother.

She slammed her bedroom doors shut and locked before crying into a pillow. Once a few minutes passed, she felt her tears dry up and her pillow soaked. Winona didn't even dare to think about the betrayal of her father or the fact her mother idly accepted it. Is this her fate if she ever marries a man? Sitting by the side and merely taking their infidelity. Or how men generally get away with social behaviour, but if a woman does the same, it means a social death.

Winona vowed at that moment that she would make sure she won't be like those other women, letting men do their own thing while women must be repressed. She made a second vow right after to find her half-brother, Colin, at Hogwarts.

Next story: Secret Keeper