Bby Main

🃏 and 🤴🏻

i must have flowers, always and always - claude monet // girls and flowers details

I find it kinda odd how people talk about writing “flawed” characters like the flaws are an afterthought

Like “cool cool we’ve got this perfect hero now to just sprinkle on some Irritability and Trust Issues then microwave for 6 minutes on high until Done”

But I’ve personally found it feels a lot more useful to just… think of the flaws as the Good Traits except bad this time

The protagonist is loyal? Maybe that means they have a hard time recognizing toxic relationships and are easily manipulated by those they want to trust

The hero is compassionate? Maybe they work too hard and overextend themselves trying to help people and then they refuse to ask for help when they need it themselves for fear of burdening others

They’re dedicated to their ideals? Maybe they’re also too stubborn to know when to quit and they have trouble apologizing for their mistakes

If they’re creative, they can also be flighty. If they’re confident, they can be arrogant. If they’re brave, they might be reckless. If they’re smart, they could be condescending. Protective can become controlling, and someone who’s carefree could very well also be emotionally distant

In my opinion, the best “flaws” aren’t just added on afterwards. The best flaws are baked in deep, ‘cause they’re really just virtues turned upside down

Pezzottaite “Pez” and Era 1 Peridot doing partial designs kinda chills me out so here’s a couple from the new ep

Martin Larmont, The Effects of Masturbation, Medical Adviser and Marriage Guide, 1861

Here’s these two hairs finally after hundred years of waiting. It’s a bit long post so rest is under the cut to not clog the tags up ->

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“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.

A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.

I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,

“I am the manager.”

🌸🌸🌸

Autumn in Edinburgh by folkenrose/Abbi