Hi™️

The Inspiration Challenge ▸ Create content for a creator who inspires you!  tagged by notahumanperson to create a piece of content for a creator who inspires me!

[as requested]

<<this one will be without mark + haechan since they were in the first one>>

where are all my plus size dreamies at? 🍑

this ones for you!

renjun

breakfast in bed every morning just to make sure that you eat in the mornings

long talks about how much he loves you and wouldn’t trade you for anyone else- not even someone smaller than you

if you were scared to eat, he would move you to a place where it was just you and him- so the two of you could eat together

texts throughout the day to remind you how beautiful you are to him

you wouldn’t have to ask for reassurance because he’d never let a moment go by to where you were feeling insecure.

if you weren’t having a good day, he would take you on a night drive and just let you rant about how you’re feeling

titty man- hickies and soft kisses would be your nightly routine

definitely missionary, with your knees pushed into your chest so he can see your tummy fold a little bit

sex with the lights on- just to make you more confident

would want you to walk around the house in your bra and underwear to remind himself that every curve on your body is his

jeno

would give your tummy a cute nickname and kiss it every morning

wouldn’t wanna get out of bed cause he loves holding you

constantly picking you up, as a reminder that you aren’t heavy to him

would write you cute notes to remind you how beautiful you are

if you were feeling insecure, he’d come home to cuddle with you and play with your hair

would want you to sit on his lap while he played video games

addicted to the way that you taste, so he would eat you out whenever he had the chance

definitely into juicy booties, so he would always be grabbing and slapping that DONK

would beat anyone’s ass if they ever said something about your weight

if you were scared to eat in front of people, he would sit directly in front of you and feed you so that nobody could watch you eat (i love this so much)

jaemin

would baby the shit out of you

kiss every part of your body that you didn’t like and would list all the reasons why you shouldn’t hate that part of your body

would cook anything you wanted, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger around this man

reverse cowgirl and backshots every night sis, do not play with him

would always have his arms around your waist, just to remind you that you aren’t “too big” to him

slow and sensual sex, issa love maker over here

always laying his head on your boobs

if you were feeling insecure, he would plan a pretty little picnic date for the two of you and give you a special gift

if you were scared to eat in front of people, he would excuse the both of you from the room and sit with you in private until you were finished eating 

hickies on your boobs in the shape of a “j” just to remind you that you’re his and you’re not going anywhere

chenle

booty man fersure but would be in LOVE with every curve on your body

would call you on facetime everyday just to see what you were wearing for the day

if you were feeling insecure, he would take you to get your nails and hair done- along with shopping

if you couldn’t find your size, he would have it made for you cause he don’t have a budget tf! his baby get her shit custom made. do not play with him

strip teases are a must

your closet would be full of lingerie just because he likes the way that it hugs your body

face riding, face riding, face riding

would always ask if you’re hungry and checking to make sure that you’ve ate

sex in front of the mirror so he could see you from the front and the back

would always remind you that you’re the most beautiful woman to him, no matter what your size is

jisung

would be confused as to why you hated your body because he thinks you’re perfectly fine

would force you to take his sweaters while he was on the road, even if you were scared that you wouldn’t fit them- just so you could have something to remember him by

if you were feeling insecure, he would start a bath for you- with candles and lots of bubbles and sit there with you so you wouldn’t feel lonely

missionary- definitely slow cause he wouldn’t wanna hurt you in any way

would want you to sleep naked with him

your thighs would be his favorite. always squeezing and kissing them

if you were scared to eat in front of people, he would ask everyone to leave the room so you could eat in peace (protect this man plz)

would force you to sit on his lap

would never want you to talk bad about yourself cause it would hurt his soul and he would want you to see what he sees

Before I get going, I’m 75% deaf, as some of you know, semi-reliant on hearing aids and lip reading. My first languages were Makaton sign and then BSL. I now use spoken English.

There are a lot of issues I find with how deaf people are represented in books, when represented at all. I would love to see more deaf and hard of hearing characters in the books I read- without having to read books specifically about deaf/HoH people- but when I find them, they’re grossly undercharacterized or stereotyped. Authors write them in a way that sets signing language characters apart from speaking characters as if they are inferior, and this makes my blood boil.

Some technicalties

I’ll keep this brief.

You may have heard that “deaf” is a slur and you should use “hearing impaired”. Don’t. I’ve never met a deaf or hard of hearing person who believed that. Use deaf for people who are deaf, and Hard of Hearing (HoH) for people who lack hearing. These can be interchangeable depending on the person. This is why sensitivity readers are a useful part of the beta process.

Sign language is incredibly varied. It developes in the same way as spoken language. Fun fact: in BSL there are at least half a dozen ways to say bullshit, my favourite of which is laying your arms across one another with one hand making a bull’s head sign and the other hand going flat, like a cowpat. It’s beautifully crude, and the face makes the exclamation mark. Wonderful.

There are different sign languages. Knowing more than one would make a character multi or bi-lingual, even if they are non-speaking.

Makaton is basic sign language used by children, and it mirrors the very simple language used by toddlers.

Yes, we swear and talk shit about people around us in sign language sometimes, and no, it isn’t disrespectful to have signing characters do this. Just remember that we also say nice things, and random things, and talk about fandoms and TV shows and what we’re having for dinner, too.

Each signed language is different from another. ASL and BSL? Nothing alike. Just google the two different signs for horse.

Remember that sign language is a language, equal to the spoken word

Therefore, treat it as such. Use quotation speech marks and dialogue tags. You only need to explicitly state that this character uses signed language once, and then let your modifiers and description do the rest.  It isn’t a form of “sub-speech" or “making hand actions”- sign language is a language all on its own: it has its own grammar rules, syntactical structures, punctuation, patterns, idioms and colloquialisms. For example, “what is your name?” becomes “Your name what?” with the facial expression forming punctuation in the same way that spoken English uses alterations of prosodic tone (inflections). There is even pidgin sign; a language phenomenon usually associated with spoken language.

In the same way that you would describe a spoken-English character’s tone of voice, you would describe a signed-English speaker’s facial expressions and the way that they sign- keeping in mind that these things are our language’s equivalent of verbal inflection.

So please, none of that use of “special speech marks” or italicised speech for sign. If your viewpoint character doesn’t understand signed speech, then you take the same approach that would be used for any other language they don’t understand, like French or Thai. E.g “He said something in rapid sign language, face wrinkling in obvious disgust.” is a good way of conveying this. The proof that you’ve done this well is in whether or not you can switch “sign language” for French or something else, and it would read the same.

Don’t be afraid to describe how things are said, either. Sign language is such a beautiful and expressive way of talking, and to see a writer do it justice would be truly fabulous. Putting this into practise:

“Oh, I love maths!” She said, fingers sharp and wide with sarcasm. She raised her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry.” He replied and made his face small, but could not keep the grin forming. She was starting to laugh, too.

This is part one of two, for the sake of readability and keeping the information simple as I can. Part two- writing the deaf characters themselves- is coming up over the weekend. See you then and best luck with your writing until that point :D

"Susan."

She turned on reluctant feet. Peter stopped ahead of her. Aslan still stood in the shade of the colonnade.

"Yes, Aslan."

"Walk with me a while more."

Susan looked at her brother. His eyes were just as watery as hers and even more when he refused the tears to fall. Peter ahead and Aslan behind; she was stuck in between. She couldn't go back and she couldn't go forward. Why couldn't she just be left alone? Alone to let the words sink in: into Narnia you twice were called and into Narnia you shall not return. Alone to cry in a lonely pleasure garden and alone to smoothe the wrinkles from her dress--but the Lion's face was firm, and lovely, and lovable. She loved the black eyes that bore into hers so much she could feel her heart crack.

She gave one more shaky look to Peter and joined Aslan back among the colonnettes.

They walked the full length of the colonnade. Susan felt chilly in the shade, though it was already midsummer. She wished she had brought a shawl. She wished she'd worn longer sleeves, wished she'd worn the war dress she took from her own ruinous home and its ruinous, forgotten vault. Aslan led her through the shade of the courtyard to Miraz's lower gardens. Wide, circular swaths of soil marked the former homes of sleeping trees who'd awoken and walked away, walked away to seek Him. Still shaded, still cold, and still Aslan said nothing.

Why bring her here at all? her mind screamed. If she could let herself think it, she'd call it unkind. Feel it, call it cruel. But that was forbidden. Forbidden for the sake of His lovely face. But why? Oh, why couldn't He have left her alone?

"Susan."

His voice startled her, low against the dumb, twittering birds and deep as the slow rumblings of the sea. Susan's hands were shaking.

"Yes, Aslan."

"Your heart is heavy with many sorrows," He said. "Recount to me your sufferings."

She said nothing for a long time. "We're sad about leaving, Sir. Peter and I."

"I did not ask about your brother," said Aslan, stern but kind. "Give me your heart."

"I suppose I'm sad, then." She couldn't help but be a little angry; she clenched her muscles to keep the tremor from her voice. "But that's all that's to be said. We're not coming back and that's decided."

Aslan lay down in the grass. Susan had no choice but kneel with him. The grass was damp; surely it'd leave stains. A shame for such a fine dress. But it didn't matter anyway. Not now.

Susan waited until her legs fell asleep. Aslan was silent. Fidgeting, she watched the garden: the dumb birds in their nests and bathing in magnificent fountains carved with crow faces; dumb squirrels that chased each other across the remaining trees; honey bees and carpenter bees among vivid delphiniums and the last of spring's forget-me-nots. Everything seemed so loud in her ears, animals and water and buzzing wings, and her own broken, thudding heart, and her own shaky breaths, and she could no longer swallow the lump in her throat.

And even now the Lion was silent.

"Oh, Aslan!" she cried. "This isn't--this might not be because of me?"

"Say more."

"I mean-- we're not coming back, Peter and I; it's not... not because you might be angry at me?"

"What have you done, Daughter of Eve, for which I might be angry with you?"

"I--" Suddenly Susan felt she hadn't planned this far. She clenched her jaw and gripped her skirt until she could feel her nails through the fabric and into her palm. Anything to get herself under control. One deep breath, two. "Lucy told us to follow her and I didn't believe her. And then it turned out she was right all along. I... I haven't ruined it for us, have I? Because I didn't listen to her? It's not Peter's fault, you know," she added hastily, tripping over her words. "It was Trumpkin and I who took us the wrong way. Don't keep Peter out on my account, please--"

"I asked for your heart, not for his. What now, Daughter of Eve, did your sister tell you?"

"She told us to follow her." Susan paused. "Or... she told us to follow you."

"Why did you refuse, Daughter of Eve?"

"Because--" She blinked. "Because no one else had seen you! And no one had seen you in Narnia in a thousand years."

She heard the scorn in her voice; her cheeks heated up and she looked down in shame.

"So you believed, Daughter of Eve, that neither had your sister seen me?"

"I... I thought she believed she saw you."

"You yourself-- why did you disbelieve?"

"Because--I--because it didn't make any sense!" she fumed. "Why would you appear to her and not to any of us?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Susan didn't respond; Aslan didn't press her. Garden noise resumed once more, plaintive and ignorant and overwhelmingly loud until deep breaths wouldn't calm her, until her hands were so numbed that her nails couldn't hurt them and grinding her teeth couldn't keep her tears from falling, until all she could hear was Aslan's slow purr, until Susan wept.

"Daughter of Eve," He said again, softly, softly. "Recount to me your sufferings."

It was a moment before Susan could speak clearly again. "I thought... Surely you'd appear to us, if... if you still wanted us to. If you still wanted us."

"Hmm."

He let her cry a few minutes more.

"Dear heart," He breathed. "Fear holds you fast in its grip; it need not. Show me your hands. Lay your worries at my feet."

She held out her shaking hands. They were dotted with red crescents. Aslan lowered His great head and licked her palms. The crescents disappeared; her skin felt clean and fresh and new such as no worldly bath would suffice. Susan sobbed.

"You have pierced your hands with many wounds. You need not again; hands and feet have already bled for you, and have risen up again."

When Susan dared to meet His gaze she saw the large tears lining His large eyes. With another sob that wracked her chest she wrapped her arms around his neck. His mane dried her tears as they flowed; she had not lain with Him like this since He lay dead on the Stone Table. Oh, and she had not wept like this in years, and the Lion weeping with her, and the willows swaying.

"I'm sorry."

"Do not scorn your tears, Dear One, for they are blessed; they shall be returned to you."

"I don't want to leave like this. I don't want to leave you."

"Susan." She felt the vibrations from deep within His chest. "Though you depart out of Narnia one thousand times, though you be apart from me for one thousand years, I will never be apart from you."

"But what if I never see you again?" she cried. Her head was wet with Aslan's tears.

"You will. From the Giants who dwell in the Northern Waste to the Crown Prince of Archenland, from the lowest slave in Tashbaan to the Tisroc and the Tisroc's household, from the powers that war in your own world to the school children that torment you in their ignorance--all will see me as I Am." His voice had grown, and grown, and grown to that of a king of the world-- it shrank again to a murmur.

"You are no exception, Susan Pevensie."

"What if--what if I still can't see you?" she whispered. "If I don't want to see you?"

"You will." He kissed her forehead. "Let us remain like this for a while, until your tears are spent, as you remained with me before the night of the Stone Table."

Susan lay with Him until she fell asleep. There is no such pillow as the tufts of a lion's mane, much less of a Lion the size of a war horse, and she slept more soundly than she had in over a year. When she awoke, she felt like she'd slept for hours, though the sun was still the same height in the sky. Her eyes didn't burn. Aslan hadn't moved a muscle.

"Aslan," she said quietly. "I... I think I'm ready now."

Edmund Pevensie can climb into the rafters of the gym hall without breaking a sweat. His classmates stare and Edmund sits among the rafters with a satisfied smirk, his legs swinging high above heads. His teacher scolds him, but his classmates dare him to climb the side of the dorms one night and Edmund indulges himself. There is something in the curve of his smile as he looks down at them that makes their eyes focus on anything but him.

Susan Pevensie excels in her swimming lessons, and her classmates insist that there is something strange about her whenever she is in the water. Some girls whisper about mermaids, while others try to catch her out in cheating somehow. They never manage, and Susan comes out of the water with a sharp smile and never seeming out of breath. Her eyes spark with something unattainable and her classmates don’t look directly at her. 

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