#Fuck your write offs

[ashleyishere24]

Best joke of the year right here

[sakitaru64]

I recommend boycotting Warner Bros. Discovery. Fuck you Zaslav. Cancel your subscriptions. Boycott and eventually pirate their movies.

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one

[bi-writes]

nah i don't fuck with ai generated fics because y'all don't sit there for weeks in front of your blank doc and cry like the rest of us

[zombolouge]

The thing is, it's not about the Therapy Speak. It's not that everyone who disliked DAV hates healthy communication as a dynamic in fiction. It's not even about only being allowed to be a good guy, really, because most of us did do that anyways (though the option not being there is a loss I grieve even if I never chose it myself, but that's another rant for another day).

It's that DAV does all that stuff at the expense of being believable. At the expense of characters being permitted to have personalities. At the expense of emotions behaving the way emotions actually work for people. At the expense of letting the plot build tension through the stakes we're forced to grapple with.

Half the fics out there take the conflicts between the characters in the previous games and resolve them. I do it myself ALL THE TIME because I like to find a path to resolution through just about any conflict, that's what fascinates me about telling these stories. But the higher the stakes, the harder a conflict is to resolve. You CAN resolve any conflict, you CAN communicate healthily through any emotion, but you can't skip the time it takes to process it all to even be able to communicate it. As someone whose got CPTSD and recovered from many Traumas, I can tell you that the TIME it takes to work through it is not something you can fast track, and the ups and downs of your emotions on that journey can't be skipped. It doesn't matter if you know exactly how to do it, exactly how it's going to feel, or exactly what the end state will be, you CAN'T speedrun it.

DAV has stakes that are astronomical, but nobody treats them that way. Nobody experiences denial - a common psychological reaction to being presented with information that shatters your worldview. Nobody expresses any distrust in the establishments handing out this information - something common among cultures that have at times been at war, even if those wars are "resolved" in the present. Nobody really ever breaks down - something that any person is capable of under extreme circumstances, especially when facing multiple crises of faith that challenge everything they thought they knew about themselves. Nobody blows their lid because they've been repressing the hell out of everything. Nobody grieves for southern Thedas, the entire thing dying off screen and giving you, the player, NO way to engage with it in any way.

Not to mention there are barely any inter-party conflicts, when there should be a lot more. Why is everyone (except Spite) fine with it if Emmrich sacrifices Manfred to become a lich? Why is everyone fine with Illario potentially being set free if he was working with the venatori and Elgar'nan, two sources that have actively attacked everyone in the party? Why doesn't Neve resent Lucanis if Treviso is picked? Why doesn't Harding get pissed off at Nevarra for having a secret society of liches that never helped during the Inquisition's war against the breach and corypheus? Why doesn't Harding feel ANYTHING about Ferelden and the rest of the south? Shouldn't Harding resent the fact that she's stuck in the north while her home dies?

All of these conflicts ARE resolvable, but not easily. And it's not believable that they're never brought up. It's not believable that these characters skip through everything that happens with like, barely a frowny face most of the time. In DAO, Alistair leaves if you don't treat his conflicts with respect. In DA2, your party members try to kill each other if you don't pay attention to their conflicts/emotional needs. In DAI, people can leave or betray you, Cassandra throws a chair at Varric and tries to body him out a window. ALL of these can be resolved but it takes effort, and the characters get to SHOW that they're bothered by them and struggling the way a person would when faced with those emotions.

The problem isn't the therapy speak, or that everyone is loyal and won't leave, or that they aren't mean to each other enough. It's that it's toxic positivity. It's toxic as fuck to imply that anger or grief should be smiled over or else you're giving up, and it's damaging to people to avoid engaging with their own negative emotional responses to extremely negative stimuli. It's pasting optimism over very real, very weighty issues, sweeping it all under the rug, and you keep waiting for the lid to blow off the pressure cooker that creates, but it never does. It never becomes anything that emulates real emotions, which is why the whole damn thing feels hollow. Everything's dying and nobody cares, not even about themselves, and that's NOT healthy communication.

It's bullshit, half-assed storytelling that didn't tell us the actual story, just the vague idea of what it could have been.

[liketolaugh-writes]

Thinking about a full ghost Danny AU where he just straight-up dies in the portal. I think there should be more of those. <3

Character death, obviously.

------------

The drive back to Fentonworks was a blur in Maddie's memory, keeping Tucker on the line while he sobbed and stammered, trying and failing to keep himself together and explain what happened.

"-doesn't h-have a heartbeat and he's f-freaking out-"

"It just turned on, we don't know w-what happened, he, he said it didn't work-"

"-trying to keep Danny c-calm-"

"Please come home."

Jack's driving was even worse than usual, veering through the streets in an undisguised panic. Maddie hadn't been able to discern much from Tucker's ramble; the portal had finally turned on, but the kids had been messing around with it and Danny had gotten hurt. How hurt? Tucker didn't seem to be sure, but all three of them were in a state.

Jack pulled into their driveway and flung himself out, half the GAV still sprawled across the sidewalk. Maddie was right behind him, hanging up on Tucker with a quick assurance that they'd be right there.

"DANNY!" Jack yelled.

"In here!" Sam called back, from the open lab door. Of course.

Maddie slipped past Jack and got there first, almost falling down the stairs in her haste. What she saw there made her heart stop.

Danny wasn't there. There were three teens crumpled on the ground in front of the activated portal (a part of her sang, it worked, it worked) but Danny wasn't one of them. There was Tucker, staring blankly at the floor, and Sam, with her arm around a strange, glowing white-haired boy that was in tears - a ghost. A ghost? A ghost!

"GHOST!" Jack yelled in delight. The teen sobbed harder.

"Where's Danny?" Maddie demanded. Sam looked up sharply, her eyes wide like Maddie had never seen, her face dead pale under her makeup.

"I'm sorry!" Sam blurted out, looking nearly in tears herself. "I just, I, I thought it would be cool, it was just a picture, I, I didn't think-"

Maddie's heart skipped a beat. "Sam. Where is Danny?"

Sam looked at the crying boy next to her, huddled under her arm as if for comfort. The boy looked up, radioactive eyes swimming with tears and the water on his skin sparkling prismatically, and met Maddie's eyes.

"Mom," he croaked, his voice tripled and echoing with itself like a movie memory. "What happened to me?"

Maddie's knees gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, unable to take her eyes from the ghost in front of her. In a moment, she understood.

That was Danny. His colors had partially inverted, his hair turning white, the colors of his haz-mat suit - God, that was his haz-mat suit, the one they'd made for him and that he never used - reversing to white-on-black. He'd huddled into Sam, shaking and gasping, but now was pulling away, looking at Maddie like- like he thought she could fix this.

"I think something's wrong," Danny said, his voice trembling somewhere underneath all the alien reverberation. "Should we go to the hospital or, or something?"

"I don't think the hospital can fix this, man," Tucker said weakly, lifting his head just to stare at Danny.

The portal powered down with a whine. Maddie jerked her head up with a gasp, and found Jack at the control box, backing up silently. Jack stared into the portal. Maddie followed his gaze.

She couldn't stop the scream that tore itself from her throat. Jack yelled too, running inside, tripping over the bundled cables, and collapsing unceremoniously short of the body inside. Careless of that, Jack crawled forward the last few feet, scooped up the body, and then started to sob, cradling Danny's burnt and blistered corpse against him.

"...Do we call 911?" Danny asked, voice cracking. Maddie's head snapped back to him from the corpse, watching him stare in bleak, lost confusion at his father and the body he was hugging.

Danny didn't even believe in ghosts. Neither of their kids hid it, treating their profession with a lighthearted exasperation at home and plain embarrassment outside. Somehow, the fact made all of this worse.

"What's happening?" Danny asked helplessly. Shock, the stable part of Maddie's brain told her. He sees what's going on but his mind won't comprehend it. (He wasn't expecting to die today.)

"Y-yes," Maddie said at last, and then forced her voice to stabilize. "I'll... I'll call 911."

But first, she held out her arms, and Danny all but scrambled across the room to throw himself into her arms, still shaking. He was cold as ice, freezing through her haz-mat suit, and that was before he slipped forward with a yelp and tumbled through her. He scrambled back with a cry and tried again, and this time fell solidly against her, hiccupping. She wrapped an arm around him, shushing him softly, and groped for her phone with the other hand. She couldn't take her eyes off Jack, now carrying Danny out of the portal and staring from his corpse to his ghost, looking shattered.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My son is dead," Maddie heard herself say. Danny hiccupped and clutched at her tighter. There was a brief pause.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am. Where are you? Have you checked his pulse?"

"We're at the Fentonworks building, 18701 northwest..." She rattled off the address mindlessly, and reached down to fumble for Danny's wrist. He let her have it without complaint, too terrified to put up any resistance. She shuddered as she felt nothing, not even the tendons or bone that should be there. Then she looked up at the corpse in Jack's arms and swallowed. "Jack, h-his... his pulse."

Jack nodded mutely and fumbled for Danny's wrist, gingerly running his fingers down the burnt skin until he found the right spot.

"What do you mean, his pulse, his ghost is literally in your lap!" Sam half-shrieked, her mascara running and her fists clenched against her cheeks, her breath coming in short gasps.

"No pulse," Jack croaked hollowly, staring at Danny's ghost.

"Maybe they could..." No, it was a foolish thought, and she wouldn't put false hopes into Danny's head just to put off her own grief. She cradled him closer again, feeling him shudder. She spoke to the operator. "N-no pulse, ma'am."

"Ambulance and police are on their way," the operator said, calm and reassuring. "Can you stay on the line with me?"

"Yes." Maddie felt numb, her own hands trembling as she held Danny close.

"Thank you. Can you tell me your name? Is there anyone else with you?"

"Maddie Fenton," she said. "My husband is with me, and my son's two friends, and... and my son's ghost."

There was another brief pause.

"Alright, Maddie." Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought the operator sounded gentler there. They thought she was crazy, of course. Maddie shut her eyes. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I, I don't know. My son Danny was home with his friends, and they called and..." Deep breath. She started over. "There was an accident in our lab. Danny was electrocuted by one of our in-progress projects."

"Is the device still on?"

"No, ma'am. We had to turn it off to remove the, the body."

Maddie continued answering questions on autopilot, most of her attention on her son, her husband, and the body. Danny had stopped crying, but remained glued to her side, shivering and sniffling. Jack continued to cradle Danny's body, but his eyes were now fixed on Danny, grief spread across his face. Sam and Tucker had both quieted, watching them with fearful, guilt-stricken looks.

It seemed to take forever for the police and ambulance to arrive. Sam got up to show them inside without being asked, staggering up to steps on obviously shaky legs. Maddie was too grateful to insist on her or Jack doing it; with Danny's ghost cradled against her and his corpse in Jack's arms, well...

The paramedics arrived first, sharp-eyed and professional, but the first almost immediately faltered as he laid eyes on the scene. But Jack held up Danny's body beseechingly, his eyes wet and miserable, and they jolted into action.

"Thank you, ma'am," Maddie said to the woman on the line. "They're here now. May I hang up?"

"Yes. The paramedics will take it from here. Take care, Maddie."

Maddie hung up, and looked at the two paramedics as they filed down. They looked at each other, one inclined his head toward Danny, and they split up, one heading for Jack and the body, the other toward Maddie and the ghost. Both of them knelt beside their chosen patient, and Maddie fixed her attention on the one with her.

"Are you Danny?" the paramedic asked, unexpectedly gentle. Danny peeked up and nodded uncertainly, and the paramedic glanced at the body before seeming to make a decision. "Okay, Danny. My coworker June is going to check your body for signs of life to see if you can still be revived. Are you okay with that?" Danny hiccupped and nodded, though a new wave of tears welled up and trickled down his cheeks. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Danny hiccupped again, reaching up to wipe his eyes. "M-my friends wanted to see the p-portal," he managed, voice wavering. Maddie squeezed him, her own eyes welling up while the paramedic listened patiently. "A-and it didn't work so I t-thought it would be f-fine. I went inside a-and I d-didn't check if it was plugged in or anything, a-and then I tripped and fell and I think I hit a button and it turned on!" His voice rose until he was almost wailing. Maddie's throat tightened, and she hugged him closer. Her poor baby.

"You were electrocuted?" the paramedic checked softly.

"I guess," Danny sniffled. "I dunno. It just hurt. And then I felt really cold, and then I..." He looked down at himself and sniffled again, tears slipping nonstop down his cheeks. "Am I dead?"

The paramedic looked at his coworker, who met his eyes and shook her head. Maddie had to swallow a hiccup of her own, trying to be brave for her terrified son. The paramedic did a much better job at it, looking back at Danny and speaking gently.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "There's nothing we can do. June is going to call a coroner and explain the situation-" He caught the other paramedic's eye, and she gave him a nod. "-and we'll have your body taken somewhere it can be prepared for burial or cremation, whichever you prefer." Danny started crying again, and the paramedic exhaled and looked up to meet Maddie's eyes. "Obviously, there's no protocols for this situation. But, as his mother, I think it would still be appropriate for you to make a decision if he doesn't feel able to."

[trstalks]

Remus Lupin and Regulus Black are fucking nasty style in the back of a 1990 Chevy g20 btw

They’re driving across the country together in the hopes of finding Sirius, not really knowing how to interact with each other without Sirius present. They keep seeing the shadow of Sirius in the other’s eyes and end up fucking about it because what else do you do in that situation.

[vesperroo]

When pulling Ford into a sideways hug Stan sometimes pulls him a bit more against him, with not many regards for whatever Ford is doing at the moment, to bump his heads together. The joke is on Stan because of Ford's metal head.

50/50 chance of Ford managing to supress a snort on time, "suddenly" having to cough, or clearing his throat. And he continues doing his thing, of course.

Chances of success are lower if Stan complains about having a concussion (obvious lie, of course. He just saw the other's lip twitch upwards in a smile and is playing it for dramatics to get another reaction).

[bitegore]

I made a character sheet to plot your OC's development over time! (There's supposed to be a character name in the big white space next to "over time" but it got eaten a little lmao)

You can use this for whatever you want, and you don't have to credit me. Feel free to change or edit anything you feel like. Please don't tag me if you credit me - just link to the original post.

Credits, explanations & a transparent version under the cut :D

Credits:

The actual image was made with the free NBOS character sheet creator, which is a sort of dated but free and solid text-layout sheet maker intended for ttrpg style character sheet creation.

Fonts used were Bisdak (titles) and Rockwell (body). Both are free! You can use them to fill it out if you like.

Inspired by a comment @maybe-solar-powered-calculator made on this other post about filling it out for characters at multiple points along their arcs. Thanks for putting the idea in my head :D

This is explicitly released under a CC0 1.0 deed, ie: you can do fucking whatever you want with it and I don't care and you don't have to tell anyone where you got it from and no one gets to stop you.

-

Last time I made one of these I got a bunch of questions on all manner of things, and I can never keep up, so I'm just appending a set of notes for how to use it and a glossary because I know some of these phrasings will be confusing.

Ignore or change anything you don't feel like works for you here. You can do whatever you want forever.

Suggested / intended use & general notes:

This sheet could work for something story-level, if you want. But it's really only good for individual arcs; if the character goes through multiple arcs in your story, then they're going to fit poorly here. In that case, you're probably better off doing versions for each arc, or just adapting this to a different format more suited to your thing.

Also, if your arc has a nontraditional structure - divorced from the typical "rising action - climax - conclusion" type of structure where there's a clear 'important turning point' - it may not work as well either.

The mindset section is meant to come at it from a 'golden mean' standpoint - that is, everything on either extreme of the slider is 'too much' and therefore bad. It's not bad-to-good! The far right side is a flaw too. They're only grouped the way they are on basis of the specific OCs I personally had in mind when I put it together.

Growth is labeled 'worse'-to-'better' but it means, like, active decrease in that area vs active increase; if nothing changes, it should stay at the center even if it sucks. The category is about contrasting changes, and sometimes changes are for the worse!

The entire sheet is very deliberately subjective. It should really be answered from the character's perspective - how they feel about it, not what's necessarily true. Technically you can do whatever you want and I can't stop you, but it's a better tool if you approach it from the point of view that the character may believe things that aren't true - that will define their behavior way more than the objective facts of the story.

-

Definitions:

This part is long as hell - recommend using ctrl+f to find the specific words you're stuck on. I defined everything.

General categories:

Mindset: how your character thinks about themself and how they act. Their understanding of their own approach to life. Attitude, viewpoint, decision-making process, that sort of thing.

Circumstances: the relationship between your character and the world around them. Where they are, what that place is like, and how they feel about it.

Growth: how the character and their impact - their attitude, their behavior, their immediate surroundings - changes over time.

Outset: the start of the character's arc.

Present: the 'center' of the arc. If you're planning something ahead of time and it hasn't 'happened' yet, then this is the near future.

End-game: where they are after the conclusion of the arc.

Mindset terms:

Center of the world: "If I have a problem, it's the only thing that matters to me." Self-centered, self-absorbed. Doesn't necessarily mean anything beyond that - they don't necessarily have to be unpleasant to be entirely focused on their own life.

my life isn't relevant: "Everyone else's problems are so significant, I don't pay any attention to my own". Someone who ignores or neglects their own life in service of some other thing, or doesn't consider their own behavior to have any real importance.

Only see enemies: Paranoid. Everyone's out to get them. Anyone who seems nonthreatening is hiding their potential for danger and everyone who seems threatening is a threat. The character must remain ever-vigilant, lest the cashier at the 7/11 suddenly stab them, or their best friend turn out to secretly be trying to poison them to death.

Only see friends: Naïve. Everyone is a good actor who wishes everyone else well, and if they don't seem like they're acting from a place of kindness or care then you probably don't understand what they're up to. The character is pretty sure the stranger holding that knife is, like, someone to chat up maybe, they're clearly only hanging out in this dark alleyway because it's a nice spot and no other possible reason.

overthink everything: Ten thousand thoughts per every single action taken. Maybe they never get around to acting at all. They have to consider every possible outcome. What if by eating lunch they accidentally trigger the apocalypse?! Who's going to think about these things if not them?!?!?!

impulsive to action: Act first, think never. What do you mean "consequences of actions"?

Unilateral decisions: "I will make every choice and no one else's opinions or thoughts are relevant". Discounts outside suggestions. Firmly convinced that they know best in any situation, and will brook no disagreement with their views when it comes to actually doing things.

Command me, please: "I don't know what to do and I don't know what to even start with, someone please tell me what to think". No confidence in their own views. Will not make any decisions unless forced and even then will beg someone else to please tell them what to do. Has no idea what's best and is pretty sure anyone else will have a better idea.

can't ask for help: No one will ever help the character; they have to do everything themself, even the things other people have repeatedly offered to do for them and have much more experience with. Doesn't necessarily mean that no one will help them or that they are explicitly barred by some real-world circumstance; just that, for whatever reason, they refuse to ask for help. This is an attitude thing - will they ever reach out? No? Then they're here.

too reliant on others: Have they ever solved a problem alone? Do they believe they're even capable of doing so? The character all the way at this end of the scale absolutely never expects to be able to do anything themself, has no trust in their ability to solve a problem, and needs someone else to come save them from it. The kind of person who needs ChatGPT to do their homework. Again - doesn't actually mean anyone will help them, or that the people they're relying on are reliable - just that they think they are helpless without ... well, help.

Weapon maker: This has to do with problem-solving strategies and not actual weapons. The weapon-maker is a character who views every situation as a conflict that cannot be de-escalated or solved by cooperation, and responds appropriately. The most fundamental weapon maker character turns everything into an argument, a fight, a war, etc. There are a bunch of other responses to conflict, though - they might avoid problems that need solving because they avoid conflict generally too. Fundamentally what you want to answer here is: when they see a locked box and they don't have the key, do they respond to it the same way they'd respond to someone telling them "you can't open this box"? And how do they respond to that? Typical weapon-maker approaches: - brute-force the box open or try and then give up if it doesn't work; and also get into an argument that might turn physical with the hypothetical person - shrug and give up immediately, in both situations so on and so forth. Another hallmark is that they kind of suck at problem-solving and give up if brute-forcing a problem doesn't work. This is not someone who is picking locks unless someone else told them to - they have one solution, it's to make everything into a conflict, and then to win that conflict by beating them or to give up because they think they'll lose.

Tool maker: This person approaches every situation like it's a puzzle, not a fight - up to and including actual fights. Tool-maker characters generally assume that a situation can be solved by just finding the right approach and doing it the clever way. There's the same fundamental question as above - if your character sees a locked box and has no key, would they approach it differently than someone telling them they're not allowed to open the box? 'Typical' tool-maker approaches: - I can trick the person into giving me the key by saying the right things, and I can also pick the lock because fundamentally there are 'right answers' to both of these - If i make friends with this person, they might change their mind, because now we're cooperating. I can still pick the lock because there are 'right answers' there. - The person has a reason for wanting me not to open the box, so I can definitely figure out what that is and solve the reason so then they'll let me open it. I can take whatever it is even if they really want to keep it if I just find the right answer. I'm going to break this box into little pieces because that's the easiest way to get into it but I could probably open it some other way if that wouldn't work.

A note - the center of this bar is someone who generally has different responses to different kinds of situations - like, in the box example, they'd approach the box and the person with two different general attitudes and processes - but generally responds to those situations using the same kind of decision-making process for each category every time. Most people are nowhere near either extreme. Characters tend to be classifiable into weapon-maker and tool-maker because they are fictional and it's easier to define one kind of approach than many. Approximately average approaches: - pick the lock if no one's around, but give up if someone is there because someone telling me not to open the box is a conflict i think i'll lose but a locked box is just a puzzle that i can solve - argue with the person, but give up on the box, because they're approaching the box as a puzzle and they don't think they have the skill to get into it, but the person is someone who can be convinced or bullied into handing over the key

I made this particular dichotomy up, which is why I think I get a lot of questions on it whenever I put it into anything, but I also don't know of any other snappy way to describe this sort of thought or approach variance, and it's genuinely useful for character writing in my opinion.

Pessimist spot-finder: Generally a downer but not necessarily. This kind of character just approaches everything with a close eye for problems, issues, reasons to find fault. If they're miserable, it might be why, but like, they can be a cheerful spot-finder if you want, I just wanted to get at "the glass is half empty" and "the glass is half full" more than anything.

Optimist upside fan: The opposite. "The glass is half full". If there are problems, they can find something about them that's not so frustrating or bad to focus on. Pretty damn good at overlooking minor issues if there's no reason to fixate on them. Not necessarily cheerful.

Abysmal company: could not give less of a damn about treating people the way they 'should' be treated. Maybe they take pride in that. Maybe they just think it's irrelevant. Either way, they know they treat people badly and they don't see any reason to stop. Does not necessarily mean that they treat people badly if they think they're doing the right thing and are wrong. Doesn't mean they're actually pleasant or unpleasant to hang out with, either, unless you really want it to mean that.

Decent to others: treats people well as a matter of course, or at least they sure think they do. Makes an effort. Would probably care and/or consider changing their behavior if someone said they were treating someone poorly. As before - they can be completely un-self-aware and just think they're doing right by people while treating them completely horribly.

Morality is irrelevant: 'abysmal company' for broader approaches to life and problems. Maybe they just know they're myopic and don't think other people's problems matter. Maybe they just gave up on trying to differentiate between 'good' and 'bad' and outsourced it to someone else or stopped paying any attention. Maybe they just like to take morally unjust actions and can't be bothered giving a damn when someone points out that they're morally unjust, or maybe they're proud of it. Kind of a villain trait generally, but not necessarily - it doesn't have to mean they act badly, just that they don't care if they do. Also, this is about how they choose their own actions and view their own behavior. They can think morality is relevant for other people as long as they ignore it when they act themself.

Always in the right: feels morally righteous in every decision they make. Standard superhero type of trait. Doesn't necessarily pass judgement on others, doesn't necessarily act well according to everyone's moral code (see: blue and orange morality), but they are extremely principled and will never deviate from the moral code they personally believe in. And they do genuinely believe in it.

Circumstances terms:

Generally terrible to generally excellent: how subjectively decent is your character's situation, overall? If they think everything is horrible, but the situation is charmed to everyone except them, then it's generally terrible.

Need for changes to passive tolerance: will they do something about it? Do they feel like they have to?

No agency in action to decisions are huge: agency being "how much power do I have to make changes here?", this just asks how much they have. No agency means that, no matter what they do, nothing will happen - they might be locked in a cage or somehow otherwise completely unable to use any sort of power at all, even the power of just leaving. The other end of the spectrum is where every decision the character makes makes a huge difference, not just to themself but to everyone around them as well. They can start wars, they can have anyone they want killed, they can do anything whenever they feel like it. If they think they have no agency even though they do actually have agency, they don't have agency here. If they feel like they have all the agency in the world and can do anything, then they do even if it's not true. It's perceptual again.

Stakes are deadly to mistakes solvable: what are the consequences of failure? Will you die, will you lose status you can't afford to lose, will you lose belongings, will you have to apologize, will nothing happen at all? Mistakes solvable is where they think every mistake is solvable forever - the character pushes someone through a woodchipper and they come out and to fix it, maybe an apology has to occur, but not much else. Does not necessarily mean no one gets hurt or killed as long as the character thinks there are no permanent consequences. This is the most important one on this section to keep subjective because it will greatly influence how your character approaches situations. A character who thinks everything is deadly-stakes may go to cartoonishly-extreme lengths to avoid turning a report in a day late. A character who thinks all mistakes are always solvable may push someone through a woodchipper and then just assume they can say they're sorry and it'll all go away. The setting and their approach do not need to be applicable.

Needs go unmet to attended with care: how do the people around them treat them? Do they pay attention when the character needs something, or do they ignore it? Does the character have to do everything themself around here, or are there people who will help out?

Regarded poorly to regarded well: how do they think other people see them? Are they respected, are they liked, or are they disliked? Do people broadly trust them or are they pretty sure everyone regards them with suspicion?

Nothing changes to changes in seconds: functionally the 'stability' meter of your setting - is the situation generally stable, or are things constantly changing? Does your character feel like every five minutes, there's a new problem that needs dealing with, or do they feel like nothing has ever happened ever?

Growth terms:

Changes in place: do they go somewhere else? Does the physical setting otherwise change (eg; earthquake, war, etc) ? Are there any other reasons that the 'vibe' or 'experience' of the place is different from before?

Change in power: does the character's percieved agency (see: no agency in action to decisions are huge) change? Alternately you can use it if they've gained or lost power in some percieved way (deposed, assigned a commanding position, etc).

Change in bonds: do their relationships with people change? Have they made new friends, lost old friends, changed the nature of their relationships with friends or partners, etc?

Change in beliefs: straightforwardly, have their beliefs, morals, etc, changed?

Change in hurts: have they undergone some horrible experience? Do they have past trauma from some pre-arc horrible experience they're healing from and/or discovering they're more powerfully subject to? Did they experience a physical injury that they're recovering from or which materially changed their life? Did something recent dredge up old issues? So on and so forth.

Change in hopes: Do their desires for the future look the way they used to? Do they care about different things now? This is something the character is not actively working for, but may be tied to actual goals.

Change in fears: are they overcoming fears? Growing past them? Gaining new ones? Are they scared of shit different from how they used to be?

Change in goals: Not the same as a hope because it needs to have a specific, achievable outcome the character is actively working toward. Do those material goals look different? Perhaps they no longer want to work against something, maybe they didn't have any goals and now they do. Or maybe they've realized the goal is impossible, or something has happened to make that goal unachieveable. Whatever it is, if there's a change, it's a change.

Change in self-awareness: their beliefs about who they are and what they're like, and what their circumstances are. Have they gotten more self-aware, have they gotten less self-aware, or has nothing changed?

Change in relationships: their relationships' overall health and resilience, as far as the character is concerned - which doesn't mean they're necessarily good, just that the character thinks they're how they're supposed to be. Have they improved? Have they gotten worse? Have they not changed?

Change in knowledge: do they feel like they know more about the world, their place in it, the people around them, etc? Not necessarily how to do things - just general information and awareness.

Change in social standing: how does others' regard for the character change over this part of their arc? Do people like them more or less? Are they respected more or less than before? Has nothing changed? And so on.

Change in skills and abilities: do they feel more skilled than they were before? Do they feel like they know how to do as many things as before? Again - not necessarily rooted in reality - a classic example of a character being wrong about this is a 'big fish in a small pond' character who used to be the high school sports star going to college on a sports scholarship and discovering they're not the best any more, and suddenly feeling like they're the worst - when they're better than they've ever been in an objective light. Use a subjective viewpoint for this.

Change in agency in life: how does the character's percieved agency change? Do their decisions matter less now than ever? Do their actions make way more happen than before? (See: no agency in action vs decisions are huge)

Change in outlook: Here's the upper/downer part. Are they more or less hopeful for the future? Do they think things are more terrible now? Are things improving as far as they're concerned? Or has that not changed?

Change in goal progress: how do they feel like they're progressing on the goals they've set for themself? Are they getting further and further away? Are they getting closer?

If some of this doesn't make sense and you want a clarification, you will have to tag me to get my attention, because I'm turning notifications for this post off the minute it leaves my immediate social circle.

Transparent version: (sorry you had to scroll so far)

[deimosatellite]

like idk it just seems actually nefarious to take one of the very few widely known instances of queerness in older history being a symbol to show queer people that we've always existed and aren't alone for CENTURIES and taking away the queerness from it. like. i know some people say that ''the queerness isnt important in the book" which i mean in my opinion i could go off for 10k words in an essay as to how basil's love for dorian is integral to the story BUT EVEN APART from that its really just. having a real explicitly queer character in such an old and widely regarded classic novel is HUGE for queer history and this is just. literally like. its 2024. why are you doing queer erasure to DORIAN GRAY

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[gromky]

'eusexua' is a creation of FKA twigs, a term born out of the need to describe a state of euphoria that transcends ordinary human experience.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’m obsessed with the idea of cult leader!geto pining for a reader who just fucking hates him ….... maybe it’s someone from his past that he left behind when he defected, maybe they’re bitter and spiteful and all they do is hiss and bite but he’s so smitten. you can do no wrong in his eyes. he deserves the curses and anger, he knows, and he receives them with a smile and eyes full of hearts. he gets giddy when you scowl at him. he just thinks you’re love personified. he’s so gentle and patient that it’s infuriating because nothing you do or say will get him to bite back — it’s like you’re a kitten gnawing at his fist but he does nothing but coo at you even when you draw blood

[ragnarockz]

Tip Jar 💰

Lock Me Up 💛🔒

Maya x Reader...

Something something pinging ideas back and forth with @lilithschosen and landing on the idea of Reader snooping around Maya's bedroom, waiting for Maya to return but, of course, they get a little nosy and find something that alludes to them taking matters into their own hands...until, that is, Maya comes back and catches them red handed 👀

And obviously punished for being a nosy, impatient brat 💛🔒

You've started to recognize her bedroom better than your own.

You've been in it a million times by now; have lost count how many times she's pushed you onto her bed or used her foot to get you down onto your knees. All those mornings and nights and late afternoons you've woken up twisted in her thousand thread count sheets with a dull ache between your legs and a hunger gnawing in the pit of your heart.

She's always been one to left you wanting more of her; never satisfied enough to stop coming around or accept her invitation to come over. And why would you? Why would you give up any extra seconds, minutes, hours and even, days with Maya Mason? You'd be a fucking fool if you ever turned her down.

And not like she would let you say no either.

She went off somewhere, mumbled something under her breath as she grabbed her purse and her phone and left you to your own devices in her room. That was fine, you didn't need to be babied by her. At least, not yet.

You pace around her room and take it all in; take her all in through a material lens. All the things she's been able to buy and obtain with her money; loads of it. She likes to live lavish and loud and show off who she is on the inside out. It's so painfully Maya that it feels like she's in the room with you even now.

You help yourself to picking up her jewelry and holding it against your neck; uncapping a perfume bottle to smell that all-familiar and sometimes overwhelming, suffocating signature scent that is Maya Mason. When she stands too close to you in a meeting or bends slightly at your desk beside you to peer at your computer screen, that's when you pick up on how she smells. You've associated it with her now and here it is, in liquid form in a very expensive and very heavy glass bottle. You push the cap back on and very carefully put it back to its rightful place among her things.

The same dresser, maybe two drawers down is slightly ajar in an odd angle. You try to shake it open and feel that it's not sitting on the track properly. Maybe she had been in a rush this morning getting dressed; trying to slam an overstuffed drawer shut. You jimmy it left and right and left until it moves and you can open it a little more towards you.

Maya is there again. Inside of the drawer. All too familiar and right in your face. Thrown in haphazardly from possibly the last time she took it out from its spot; pulled it up over her legs and hips and watched with a hungry look on her face as you, traced the stretch marks on her skin with your eyes. She had turned halfway to grab her toy. No. Her cock. She made sure that you knew it was her. Not a toy, not a piece of silicone. Her. Maya Mason in the fucking flesh as she secured it gingerly around the o-ring and stood with such power it made you weak in the knees and got your legs to bend.

That was then, this is now. Her legs aren't slipped through the straps and her cock isn't placed between her. She's left it here and most likely, didn't expect you to nosy around and find it.

Her loss.

You grab it like there's some sort of timer that will go off if you don't in time. You pull and shimmy your pants down as quickly as you can to pull the harness up and over your legs and hips and secure her cock between your own legs. You feel dizzy as you make your way over to her bed; shedding more articles of clothing as you move along until you flop onto her bed completely naked with just your underwear on underneath the harness.

You lay yourself down onto her bed; your back to the soft sheets and you look down between your legs at her erect cock. As you bite your lip, your brain tells you to move in a different direction with this new sense of desire. You grab the base and pull her cock out from the o-ring and hold it in your hand; turning it left and right and wonder how many times it's been inside of you now.

In, what Maya likes to whisper as she's bent over your back and fucking you from behind, that perfect pussy of yours that belongs to her and only her.

You swallow hard, look around, and move your left hand to pull your underwear to its side for easier access without having to take the entire harness off. You hold it there so you can, without much thought, guide her cock towards yourself just like you've done a million times on your own with your own toys. None of this is new; masturbating while laying back onto a bed.

This was routine until Maya came into your life and you no longer had to do much solo fucking anymore.

But this? Right now, as you tease your entrance with the shaft side of her cock against your folds and up to your clit and back down again, had been the first solo fuck in a long, long time.

Your eyes close as you sink into her bed; allow yourself to relax and picture her above you. It's the easiest thing in the world to do; you've mesmerized her by heart. The way her hair always hangs down over her shoulder or into her face; either loose or braided. Her nails scrapping and scratching and clawing at your skin on your shoulders and arms; the top of your thighs and under your calves and always without a doubt, at your hips and ass cheeks. Sometimes she's partially clothed in just a bra and underwear but sometimes she keeps whatever she wore that day to work to fuck you in.

That's where you always fold hard.

Outfits she put so much time and effort to get dressed in earlier that day become, to a point, ruined by you and her as she keeps them on to fuck you stupid. And that goddamn chain and lock around her neck never, if ever, comes off when she fucks you.

You've felt it hit against almost every inch of skin by now.

You've even watched her with a gagged mouth as she pressed the cold metal of the lock purposefully against your clit and watched you squirm from the sensation which, very quickly, melted your brain and made you come all over her manicured fingers.

The smile she gave you then almost caused you to pass out.

"So, you found Mommy's dick, huh?"

Your blood runs cold as your hand grinds to a halt; no longer pumping Maya inside of you. You clench around it as if that would make any different of being caught red handed with her cock deep inside of yourself; fucking to her on her bed. Masturbating to the thought of her with her harness on, her sex.

You choke back a whimper as your eyes slowly open and see her literally kneeling by her bed right beside of you with her eyes focused between your legs as if she can see right through your skin at how deep you've got her cock in your painfully clenching, wet pussy.

"...Maya..."

She shakes her head but doesn't drag her eyes away as she watches your now shaking hand. She can tell you want to keep going; impatient with the need to fuck yourself longer, harder, deeper.

At that moment you think her hand is coming up to wrap around your neck and choke you; put you in your place for being a bad girl. But you're wrong, painfully wrong as she pulls back her fingers except her pointer and middle and hook it ever so gently under your chin to make you look at her upside down.

Her gaze flickers away from your hand and down to your face; smiling with a grin that makes you move your hand with one solid motion to pump her cock inside of you once more. You don't even care if she noticed or saw; the edge building is too much to bear to just lay still.

"Sweetheart, you're doing it all wrong...you know, I could do it so much better."

The tips of her fingers press hard into your chin as you let a muffled moan escape your barely parted lips. Your hand falls away but her cock remains inside of you. You feel frozen, unable to make a move as you lay there helpless with her now up on her feet and circling as she quickly sheds her clothes.

When the fuck did she get another harness? Is the first thought that pops into your head as you stare at her sideways. It's identical to the one still around your hips. The o-ring remains empty. A singular disgusting thought plants into your head.

"Oh, don't you worry, I am going to do it much better than whatever the fuck you were trying to do...bet you didn't even get deep enough...not as deep like when I fuck you..."

She's crawling onto her bed now and over to you and that hand with those goddamn nails forcefully grab her cock and pull it right out of you. You feel a pang between your legs of emptiness and wetness; seeping out and the embarrassing clench around nothing.

"I...want you to fill me up again...please..."

That little whisper under your breath only makes her jeer at you; pompous and self-righteous. It's the same look she gives to clients and coworkers at work. Looking down at you like you're just a speck on Hollywood Boulevard. You're nothing to her and will never be anything to her.

And now she's got you under her thumb and begging.

it's just how she's always wanted you.

You watch in almost silence, heavy, ragged breaths of anticipation filling her room from your mouth, as she secures her cock into her o-ring this time. There's no foreplay; no means of going about feeling you up or petting or kissing you. She disregards you and any needs you may have to turn yourself on before she thrusts her cock deep into you without any remorse.

And that's exactly what Maya Mason does.

Hands and arms hooked under your legs to pull you right up to her so she has the easiest means of access to enter you. One shot and she's in; her cock already slick from seconds before. She grits her teeth and shows them to you as you don't fucking dare look away from her face.

You want to feel bad for what you've done. You want her to know that yes, she is doing a better job fucking you than you ever could on your own.

You're useless, you're pathetic. You're...

"Please...please, Maya...callmepathetic..."

You whimper louder on the border of crying as you twist and arch your back to try and feel her deeper; wishing she'd split you in two as she rams into you over and over again. She's laughing through her clenched teeth and pushes out her breath through her nostrils.

She's sick of you and all the stupid little games you like to play with her. Whiny and bratty and begging so fucking helplessly she wonders how the fuck you even managed to get this far.

And it's all thanks to her and the way she fucks you and plays with you and makes you realize time and time again that there could be no one else after her.

It'll only be Maya Mason; could only be Maya Mason.

"Call you...pathetic? Honey, you're...fucking pitiful...fuck, look at you with your legs open and begging for my cock..."

She scoffs and you moan in response but she just keeps fucking going as she pushes you deeper and harder into her mattress.

"...You thought you'd be able...to do a better job? Fuck yourself on my cock without...me? You're fucking stupid...aren't you? So fucking dumb...from being fucked like a little slut...by me...over and over and..."

You cut her off with how loud your moans are getting. Face turned painfully to the side; you moan and whimper and cry into her sheets and feel the raw, burning sensation deep inside of you.

You're so

fucking

close.

Swallowing hard, your hands creep down to grab at her sheets as you use whatever energy you have left to tighten your legs around her hips and hold her close.

All that gold of her jewelry hits your eyes with a glint; the lock bouncing against her chest with each thrust. She looks like something out of a dream, a movie. Too big and too real and nothing like the big stars you've seen on screen.

She's bigger than that, realer than that.

She's fucking you so hard you're starting to slip until she breaks you.

"That's it, Sweet Thing, you got this...you got this...just let go...just come for me...you've been trying all night to come...all...over my cock, haven't you?"

She reels you back in as your back arches one more time; eyes open and peering at her as you allow yourself to relax.

She gasps loudly as if she can really feel you come on her cock; can feel that warmth and wet against her skin. You're picturing her head twitching deep up inside of you and your cheeks flush.

Sweat and cum coat your skin and you know she can see that all over you; glistening and shiny as you try to fall from your orgasm. She's still rocking her hips; wanting you to feel completely numb. Clit useless to any sort of touch; overstimulated and swollen. Your labia puffed out and tender; coated with your slick and lubricated completely around.

You feel her hands move up your legs and thighs; tugging down hard on the harness around your hips. You moan in response and feel your clit achingly pulse. She's still fucking toying with you even after all of that.

You deserve it, you know that you do.

You deserve it, as she rakes her nails up your abdomen to grab and grope from the underside of your tits. Your nipples stiffen a little harder and your breath gets caught in your mouth. She uses those goddamn fucking nails of hers to rub over your nipples and make you, coat her cock once more.

You think she's going to keep going; keep pleasuring you but the second her words fill the small gap between you both, your blood turns cold and a new wave of desire courses through your veins.

"If you ever touch my things again...use my cock to fuck yourself...oh, Sweetheart...Mommy is going to split you in two...and I'll actually make you beg me for it until you're a whimpering, moaning fucking mess...useless on my bed and fucking yourself down into my mattress as you hope and beg and pray for me to put my cock inside of you...inside of your perfect pussy that belongs to me. Always will, belong to me...got it?"

She doesn't even let you answer her in words or actions as she completely pushes herself off and away and out of you. The sudden shock of being empty of being alone hits you as she scrambles off of her bed and fixes her necklace around her neck. Lock sitting heavy on her chest you know, as you stare at her in silence, that she means every fucking word out of her pretty, dirty mouth.

[ilostthewar]

I think when Simon is seriously considering a long term partner, probably one of the main things he needs to know is that you’ll call him on his shit. He knows he can be an asshole, he knows sometimes his sarcasm comes off mean, sometimes his brooding and personal issues can make him standoffish and snippy. So he needs to know that the person who is prone to being exposed to those parts of him most consistently will tell him when he’s being too much. Will tell him when his tone is too sharp or his words overly cruel, will tell him to get his head together before trying again. Because a lot of the time that’s all he needs. He just needs a moment to organize his thoughts, to put them in an order that he can verbalize, to recognize the emotions he’s feeling and from where.

He’s been told enough time to know that he isn’t his dad. But that doesn’t stop the fact that sometimes he sees his father in himself. In his anger and violence, in all of Simon’s worse habits. He likes to imagine he has channeled those parts of himself into something better, or at least is trying to, but he can never be sure with himself. He never wants to hurt his partner, but it comforts him to know that if he ever missteps you’ll clock that shit immediately. His mom was docile, and he never wanted to be angry with her for it, but he saw what docility did to her, what it did to them. He can’t stand the idea of the person he cares for allowing him to walk over them because they want to keep the peace.

However!!! This also can lead to him being manipulated in ways he doesn’t realize. I think he could be convinced that almost any criticism of his character is valid, especially if it’s coming from someone who is close to him. Tripping over himself to make up for minor mistakes, struggling to atone for any perceived sins. It’s almost like he wants to be punished and when someone is willing to do it under the guise of love I think he could fall into it.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Hollysugar might be cannon because this fucking grandma came into my shop, and ordered a STRAWBERRY CAKE with a TON of SWEETS, you know what is in sweets? SUGAR, LOTS OF SUGAR. the closet is glass, actualyl it never existed

also burning spice came into my shop too and asked for a chocolate cake with YELLOW and MINT frosting. these two arent slick,

I got the same cake order just now 😭😭😭 grandmama thinks we don't see her smh

And I've gotten that chocolate cake order from Burning Spice, too!!! Chocolate... which is a well-known and loved aphrodisiac 👀 and a common and beloved gift for romantic partners/love interests 👀 plus lemon and mint frosting, aka GOLD and TEAL... His wife's colors....... So cringe, honestly. Burning Spice is now the Most Cringe Beast after Shadow Milk, it is decreed